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"Happy New Year" has become a standard greeting and a common expres- 
sion of kind wishes when a New Year dawns upon the world. The New Year 
suggests a time of beginnings and contemplates a closing of the door on the 
mistakes and difficulties of the past, except for those elements of good we 
may have extracted from them and upon which we may better build our 

The expression "Happy New Year" becomes a natural manifestation of 
one's feelings and desires for his friends and associates. It is indeed an 
exemplification of the spirit of the second great commandment: "Thou shalt 
love thy neighbour as thyself." 

The General Presidency of Relief Society extends to Relief Society 
women throughout the world its very sincere wishes for a Happy New Year. 

Relief Society women have so much to make them genuinely happy. They 
have the sure knowledge of the truthfulness of the restored gospel, with its 
plan of life and salvation clearly delineated for them. Thousands of our 
Father's children find themselves in much the same position as the great 
Belgian playwright, Maeterlinck, when he exclaimed, "If we knew but one 
thing to be true, would we not give our all!" 

Relief Society members may be happy in the forward march of the work 
of this great and divinely inspired. Priesthood-directed organization. 

Happiness will flow to Relief Society members in the days ahead as they 
contemplate the development of their individual talents and characters 
through their Relief Society activities. They will also find happiness added 
to their lives in boundless measure through the sweet association of their 
Relief Society sisters. 

Surely every sister with mind and heart centered on the abiding truths 
of the gospel and devotedly engaged in the work of Relief Society, may 
look forward with confidence to much happiness in the New Year. 

The General Presidency and the General Board continually pray for the 
happiness and well-being of Relief Society sisters throughout the world. 
May they ever be blessed of the Lord with the joy which their unselfish 
devotion to our great work so much deserves. 

General Presidency, 



I must write to thank you and tell you 
how thrilled I was to open the cover 
of my November Magazine and see our 
beautiful Mount McCaleb of the Lost 
River Mountains as the frontispiece. 
Our little town of Mackay rests at the 
foot of this lovely peak, and the moun- 
tain stands as a sentinel over our 
valley. The mountain is also my favorite 
view from my kitchen window. All of the 
Magazines are lovely and such an in- 
spiration to all who read them. 

Leona B. Anderson 
Mackay, Idaho 

The wonderful Relief Society Magazine 
has been coming to our home for five 
years, and the teachings, both in love 
and spirituality, have helped tremen- 
dously in building our marriage and 
home. My husband has been attending 
school since we were married, and 
living on the kind of budget students 
live on, the Magazine has helped me 
greatly in figuring shortcuts, inexpen- 
sive food items, and sewing ideas, not 
to mention the uplift I receive from the 
Magazine when I need encouragement. 
Mrs. Marsha Ball 
Urbana, Illinois 

I am only twenty years old and single, 
but subscribe to The Relief Society 
Magazine. I think the Magazines 
would help the young women, for they 
could understand the appeal to the 
heart and to the personal being. They 
could learn of their roles as tomorrow's 
leaders of the women of the Church. 

Allien Wlinn 
Smithfield, Utah 

I do love The Relief Society Maga- 
zine — the greatest of all magazines for 
women. Without it I would be lost. It 
gives me great inspiration each time I 
pick it up. It makes one feel close to 
the Heavenly Father. Its beauty, both 
inside and out, is beyond expression. 
Mrs. OIlie M. England 
Logan, Utah 

I would like to express my appreciation 
and thanks to a wonderful missionary 
sister from Utah. We had the pleasure 
of her company in our home, and we 
grew to love her very much. After she 
returned home she very kindly had 
The Relief Society Magazine sent to 
me, and I receive it regularly each 
month. I enjoy reading it so much, 
especially the poems and serials. To 
Sister Beth McEwan and all the wonder- 
ful missionary sisters and elders I've 
had the pleasure of meeting and having 
in my home, I would like to say thank 
you most sincerely, and God bless you. 

Doreen Burrows 

Port Kembia, N.S.W. 


The poem "Yesterday's Gold," by 
Dorothy Roberts (September 1963) 
still stays with me. Rarely does a poem 
affect me as this one has. After two 
full years, I am unable to get it out of 
my mind. In this poem, as in a perfect 
painting, you catch the pathos of poig- 
nant grief. It is a touching poem, a 
great one. I have not read a poem in 
some time that I think can compare 
with it. The poem "Requited," by 
Bertha Kleinman is also outstanding 
and beautiful. There is a delicacy about 
it not often found in poems. 

Rose A. Openshaw 
Mesa, Arizona 

I am happy to report that more and 
more of the young homemakers in our 
ward are reading the educational and 
inspirational Magazine and also partici- 
pating in Relief Society meetings. This 
morning I was reading again the Sep- 
tember 1965 issue. I enjoyed Frances 
C. Yost's story "A Dress for Sherry 
Lynn," just as much this morning as 
when I read it about three weeks ago. 
The warmth of family love, the joy of 
sharing and taking turns written about 
in this lovely story, are indeed heart- 

Ida Andersen 
Soda Springs, Idaho 

The R^li^ff Society Magazine 

Volume 53 January 1966 Number 1 

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

Special Features 

1 New Year's Greeting General Presidency 

4 Teaching the Gospel Joseph Fielding Smith 

9 Award Winners — Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest 

10 Letter to Viet Nam — First Prize Poem Eva Willes Wangsgaard 

12 Legacy — Second Prize Poem Julie H. Beecher 

14 Prelude of Promise — Third Prize Poem Pearle M. Olsen 

16 Award Winners — Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest 

17 For Barbara, With Love — First Prize Story Evelyn Elizabeth Vesterfelt 

34 The 1966 March of Dimes George P. Voss 


24 Wheat for the Wise — Chapter 1 Margery S. Stewart 

35 The Blue Crystal Vase Betty Lou Martin Smith 

General Features 

2 From Near and Far 

30 Editorial: "And Tell of Time" Vesta P. Crawford 

32 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

33 Notes to the Field: Bound Volimies of 1965 Magazines 
51 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities 

80 Birthday Congratulations 

The Home -Inside and Out 

42 Quantity Cooking for Relief Society Functions — Part III Rosa Shurtz 

44 A "Quick" Quilt for a Child's Bed Min VanBrandwijk 

46 Get Acquainted With Watercress Elizabeth Williamson 

47 Catherine B. Pratt Finds Many Uses for Greeting Cards 

48 Our Little Nest Egg Helen M. Peterson 

79 Uncle Time and Auntie Inclination Vilate R. McAllister 

Lessons for April 

58 Theology • The Word of Wisdom — A Lif e-Giving Revelation Roy W. Doxey 

63 Visiting Teacher Message • "For What Doth It Profit a Man. . . ." Christine H. 

65 Work Meeting • Cleanliness Is Next to Godliness (a Continuation) Hazel S. Cannon 
68 Social Science • "Seek and Ye Shall Find" Alberta H. Christensen 
73 Literature • Facing Death, Part I Robert K. Thomas 


How Have We Followed? Christie Lund Coles, 7; Sea Gull Monument, Dorothy J. Roberts, 8; 
January, Linnie Fisher Robinson, 29; Samaritan, Sylvia Probst Young, 33; Shifting Sands, 
Ethel Jacobson, 34; Traveling, Zara Sabin, 40; My Little Bread and Butter Life, Catherine 
B. Pratt, 41; Hespite, Rowena Jensen Bills, 45; Across the Miles, Gladys Hesser Burnham, 
49; Opportunity, Ora Pate Stewart, 77; To the One in the Middle, Mabel Jones Gabbott, 77; 
If I Were a Blue Jay, Vesta N. Fairbairn, 78. 

The Cover: Winter in the Wasatch Mountains, Utah, by Dorothy J. Roberts, lithographed in 
full color by Deseret News Press; Frontispiece: Wintertime Splendor, by Eric M. Sanford; 
Art Layout 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. 1965 by the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main 
Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone 364-2511; Subscription Price $2.00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c 
a copy, payable in advance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers can be sup- 
plied. 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 Oc- 
tober 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 manu- 





Joseph Fielding Smith 

of The Council of the Twelve 

(Called to the First Presidency 
October 29, 1965) 

[Address Delivered at the officers meeting of the 
Relief Society Annual General Conference, September 29, 1965] 

(Read by his wife, Jessie Evans Smith, in his absence) 

Sister Smith: Thank you, Sister Spafford. I don't know whether I am 
grateful to be here this morning or not. I was looking forward to it yesterday, 
but like Brother Doxey, I have \\een watching the door over here hoping 
that the brethren would come in, but they haven't, but I love you and 
I am grateful to be here with you this morning. My husband doesn't 
generally write his speeches, but he said, "I feel that I should do something 
this time in order to give the sisters the message. I don't know why I feel like 
that," he said, "but I think I should just put down a few remarks." So, with 
your faith and prayers on my behalf, I will give what President Smith has for 
you sisters. It is entitled, "Teaching the Gospel." 

■ My dear sisters, I hope and 
pray that I may say something 
that will be upbuilding to your 
testimonies, and I ask that the 
Lord will bless me with inspira- 
tion to give the things that you 
desire. The Church has two 
great responsibilities. That is, 
the members of the Church have 
these responsibilities. It is our 
individual duty to preach the 
gospel by precept and by ex- 
ample among our neighbors. In 

Section 88 of the Doctrine and 
Covenants, we are informed that 
even those who are warned are 
under the obligation to receive 
the message and also to warn 
their neighbors. 

The people who are living are 
entitled to hear the message, so 
this responsibility to teach the 
world is an outstanding one. We 
cannot get away from the obli- 
gation. The Lord declared that 
his coming is nigh at hand. It is 


our duty, then, to do all we can, 
and the Lord will bring to our 
aid other forces besides our mis- 
sionaries, that his work may be 
advanced and his words be ful- 

I speak of this responsibility 
at this time for fear there may 
be some who think the work they 
are doing is the great work of 
this dispensation. The people 
engaged in the Relief Society 
and other auxiliaries feel that 
they have great responsibility 
and they have, but their work 
does not overshadow this great 
duty of preaching the gospel to 
the world. 

Now, there are many debts 
which we owe the Lord. There is 
the debt of preaching this gospel 
to a wicked and perverse genera- 
tion, and those are the words of 
the Lord, so do not accuse me 
of calling the world wicked. It 
is. I can testify to that from 
what I have seen of it, and I 
have seen of the wickedness but 
a small part, I assure you. The 
world today is filthy, drunken, 
saturated and stinking with to- 
bacco. The world is full of im- 
morality. It is a fallen world. It 
has been a fallen world since 
Adam was driven from the Gar- 
den of Eden, and yet we are in 
it, and the Lord has given us the 
mission of assisting him, of being 
agents in this world, to regenerate 
it, as far as it is possible to bring 
to pass that regeneration. It will 
never be fully accomplished, so 
far as we are concerned. We are 
not going, by our preaching, to 
save very many souls. 

The Lord has given unto us our 
agency. We may act for our- 
selves, we may choose to do good 
or we may choose to do evil. The 
Lord said that men love darkness 

rather than light because their 
deeds are evil. Yet our mission, 
I say, so far as it is within our 
power, is to regenerate, to bring 
to repentance, just as many of 
the children of our Father in 
Heaven as it is possible for us to 
do. That is one of our debts; 
that is an obligation the Lord has 
placed upon the Church. It is 
the duty of every member of this 
Church to preach the gospel by 
precept and by example. 

The purpose and duties of the 
Relief Society are many. I am 
going to repeat myself again be- 
cause there may be some here 
today who were not here when I 
made this statement before, and 
I also have the backing of my 
father. President Joseph F. 
Smith. "This is an organization 
that was established by the 
Prophet Joseph Smith. It is, 
therefore, the oldest auxiliary 
organization of the Church, and 
it is of the first importance. It 
has not only to deal with the 
necessities of the poor, the sick 
and the needy, but a part of its 
duty — and the larger part, too 
— is to look after the spiritual 
welfare and salvation of the 
mothers and daughters of Zion; 
to see that none is neglected, 
but that all are guarded against 
misfortune, calamity, the powers 
of darkness, and the evils that 
threaten them in the world. It 
is the duty of the Relief Societies 
to look after the spiritual wel- 
fare of themselves and of all the 
female members of the Church. 
It is their duty to collect means 
from those who have in abun- 
dance, and to distribute it wisely 
unto those in need. It is a part 
of their duty to see that there 
are those capable of being nurses, 
as well as teachers and exemplars 


in Zion, and that they have an 
opportuniy to become thoroughly 
prepared for this great labor and 
responsibility. I have heard of a 
disposition on the part of some 
of our sisters to become a law 
unto themselves in relation to 
these things. I would like to say 
that it is expected of the Relief 
Society, especially the general 
authorities of that great organi- 
zation, that they will have a 
watchcare over all its organiza- 
tions among the women of Zion. 
They stand at the head of all 
such; they ought to stand at the 
head, and they should magnify 
their calling, and see to it that 
error is not permitted to creep 
in, that cabals are not formed, 
that secret combinations may not 
get a foothold, to mislead the 
sisters. They should see to it 
that the other organizations of 
women in the Church correspond 
and are in harmony with their 
organizations. Why should this 
be? In order that the women of 
Zion may be united, that their 
interests may be in common, and 
not conflicting or segregated, and 
that the purpose of this organiza- 
tion may be realized and the 
organization itself be effective 
for good in every part of the 
Church throughout the world, 
wherever the gospel is preached. 
... I commend the Relief So- 
cieties to the bishops and say, be 
friendly to these organizations, 
because they are auxiliary organ- 
izations and a great help to the 
bishops. . . ." 

It is the duty of the Relief 
Society **to look after the inter- 
ests of all the women of Zion 
and of all the women that may 
come under their supervision 
and care, irrespective of religion, 
color or condition. . . . Today it 

is too much the case that our 
young, vigorous, intelligent wom- 
en feel that only the aged should 
be connected with the Relief So- 
ciety. This is a mistake. We 
want the young women, the 
intelligent women, women of 
faith, of courage and of purity 
to be associated with the Relief 
Societies of the various stakes 
and wards of Zion. We want 
them to take hold of this work 
with vigor, with intelligence, and 
unitedly, for the building up of 
Zion and the instruction of wom- 
en in their duties — domestic 
duties, public duties, and every 
duty that may devolve upon 

The matter of teaching is one 
of the greatest importance. We 
cannot estimate its value when 
it is properly done; neither do 
we know the extent of the evil 
that may result if it is improperly 
done. The greatest qualification 
required of a teacher is that she 
have faith in the principles of 
the gospel; that she believe in 
the principles of revealed truth 
as they have come through in- 
spired prophets in our own day 
as well as in times of old; and 
that he or she shall exercise their 
privilege as a teacher in the 
spirit of prayer and faith. 

I am in full accord with the 
commandment as it is written 
in this revelation. Unless a man 
(or woman) does have a knowl- 
edge of the truth, has faith in 
the word of the Lord and his 
power, and is guided by the 
Spirit of the Lord, he should 
not teach. We are commanded 
"to give diligent heed to the 
words of eternal life." For we 
"shall live by every word that 
proceedeth forth from the mouth 
of God. For the word of the 


Lord is truth, and whatsoever is 
truth is light, and whatsoever is 
Hght is Spirit, even the Spirit 
of Jesus Christ." 

I was handed a poem the other 
day by Sister Pauline Marie Bell 
which fits in with Relief Society 
and I would like to give it to you 

Ancient mothers, God has blessed you 
With a hope so mighty strong 
Thou didst give a glorious pattern, 
Courage filled our hearts with song — 
Relief Society in faith united 
Walking where the Savior trod. 
Gazing upward to that Giver, 

Praising ever Israel's God. 
Daughters of those faithful Marys, 
Sharing woe with Christ so true, 
Faith undaunted, God has given — 
Blessings are fulfilled in you. 
Zion's daughters, meek and loyal. 
Children of that chosen band. 
True and faithful, God has called you. 
To assist his mighty hand. 

May we all strive to keep the 
commandments, and the Lord 
will bless us in our work, and 
may he bless each of you with a 
desire to follow in paths of right- 
eousness, I humbly pray in the 
name of Jesus Christ, our Re- 
deemer, Amen. 


Christie Lund Coles 

These words he spoke, "I now turn the key, . .' 
Others admonishing and wise, as he said 
We should have charity, relieve the poor. 
We should partake of all spiritual bread. 

We were to be patient; we should share, 
And walk as sisters of mercy and light, 
Healing, administering to the needs 
Of others, as a kindly mother might. 

How have we followed? How have we kept faith? 
How have we met the call of those who. came, 
Asking for a nourishment more real 
Than any food or drink the lips can name? 

How have we given aid, how have we shown 
True depth of understanding, and the sweet 
Friendship that heals a solitary way, 
Or puts new courage into ageing feet? 

How have we shared our portion with the least, 
Giving — as privilege and not as ration — 
And, oh, above all else.we followers, 
How have we given love and true compassion? 

f * 


Dorothy J. Roberts 

Bird on the bough of winter, 

Call back the century, the summer day. 

Snow on straining wing. 

Eternity of granite sphered beneath your airy tread, 

Paint on the leaden wind 

The posture of arrival, the meaning of mercy. 

Leafed in gold, repeat, repeat, 
Lest one mind remember not the small company, 
Knee-bent in almost-surrender 
To the fear of winter-hunger. Then, answer- 
Above the creeping black stain on their isolation. 
The wheeling cloud of all-consuming birds. 
The fluid arc of wings which rose and fell, again, again. 

Declare, though pinions wear the weight of frost, 
Bird on the bough of evening, west. 
That grain grew after, gold 
As the leaf on your breast. 


■ The Relief Society General Board is pleased to announce the names of 
the three winners in the 1965 Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. This contest 
was announced in the May 1965 issue of The Relief Society Magazine, and 
closed August 15, 1965. 

The first prize of forty dollars is awarded to Eva Willes Wangsgaard, 
Ogden, Utah, for her poem "Letter to Viet Nam." The second prize of thirty 
dollars is awarded to Julie H. Beecher, Martinez, California, for her poem 
"Legacy." The third prize of twenty dollars is awarded to Pearle M. Olsen, 
Salt Lake City, Utah, for her poem "Prelude of Promise." 

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 leader. January 
was her birth month. 

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

award winners 


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. Wangsgaard, beginning in 1939, has received an award in nine of 
the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contests. Mrs. Beecher is a first-time winner, 
and Mrs. Olsen placed second in the contest last year. 

Two hundred seventy-two poems were submitted to the contest this 
year, representing nearly every State in the United States and several other 
countries. Seventy entries came from Utah, forty-three from California, 
twenty-three from Arizona, eleven from Washington, seven from Colorado, 
and six from Oregon. Seven entries came from Canada; and England, 
Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa were represented. 

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 highlights on the prize-winning con- 
testants, are published in this issue of the Magazine. 

First Prize Poem 


Eva Wiiles Wangsgaard 


The summertime was rich — the sorrel foaled, 
The Guernsey yielded twins, the crops were lush. 
Each hour fitted well the patterned mold 
And high stars twinkled over midnight hush — 
A summer like all others, picnic-true. 
We fished the Blackfork, iced a worthy load. 
We swam and boated. Bear Lake was as blue 
When we looked backward from the canyon road. 
But I walk two dimensions — one aware 
Of outer fullness blessing stall and bin, 
While my insurgent heart denies its share. 
Its threshing leaves an emptiness within. 
Abundance harvested, the beasts' content 
Without your nearness seem inconsequent. 


Now leaves are making music overhead. 

The winds raise slender flutes above the beat, 

A plaintive number saying, "Summer's dead," 

While still the grass is green beneath my feet. 

The willows drop long tears where leaves are thinned; 

The lindens twist in Spanish pirouettes. 

The Norway maples whistle with the wind 

And sycamores shake balls and castinets. 

Where locust blossoms filled the April night 

With fragrance, penetrating, intimate, 

Now pod-harmonicas lift strains as light 

While leaves twirl grace notes, golden, intricate. 

In loneliness breathed through these vibrant reeds 

Another year leans where the mallard leads. 


Today I walked across our stubbled fields 

While still the frost flakes sparkled everywhere. 

I strode along to where the mountain wields 

Its stubborn strength against our spade and share. 

Do you remember from the years gone by 

How golden is our valley in the fall? 

How aspens, poplars, elders, shrubs all vie 

To be more golden than a warbler's call? 

I played a childish game, a thin pretense 

That you were with me striding hand in hand. 

Did you draw one crisp breath? a moment sense 

This brisk, bright freshness pass through jungle land? 

A wild goose honked, and in that spike of sound 

I read "Return" and felt my faith rebound. 






Prize Winner 

Eliza R. Snow 

Poem Contest 

Eva Willes Wangsgaard, Ogden, Utah, has had several books of her poems 
published, has received prizes in many state and national contests, and is 
one of Utah's best known and best loved poets. "I am still living in the 
home on 28th Street," she tells us, "and am still enthralled with the garden 
in the growing seasons, where several organizations hold their summer 
parties. All three of the children live in Cache Valley; the thirteen grand- 
children are growing up. Two are married, with two children each. One, the 
oldest girl, finished college last year and is teaching in Salt Lake City. Her 
brother Joseph David Evans is in West Germany serving a mission. Michael 
Wangsgaard, my son Dee's eldest, is back from a mission to the Northeastern 
States. He was married this past August, and both he and his wife are 
finishing their college courses at the Utah State University. Jim, my son 
Reid's son, is also attending Utah State. 

"I am still writing poetry. My chief outlets are the national literary con- 
tests and the various church magazines. My latest achievement "Night in 
the Mountains," a sonnet, was chosen to illustrate the poet's approach to 
nature in a new text "Science: a Key to the Future," for junior high schools, 
published by the Macmillan Company. I have a biographical note in Who's 
Who in Poetry International, and in International Biography, both books 
compiled and published by UNESCO." 


Second Prize Poem 


Julie H. Beecher 

Apart, those days and these, 

Great-grandma's nearly hundred years stretch thin with turning hours 

And lengthened days until the merest link remains. 

Apart, her life and mine .... 

This present brightness seen through dimming lens, her ageing eyes; 

The drifting colors blended low to soft pastels, 

There is no harshness here. 

All sight and sound are tempered, cushioned, soothed 

By senses slower now but still aware . . . 

So justly delicate. 

Made fragile by the twisting, tumbling, turning on and on of time, 

So many years alone spent cloaked in memories. 

How good that time is not all, 

But only part. 

And that's the harvest then ... 

The good thick grass, the golden crop . . . 

Time is not all. 

We are not separate in the end, 

This woman from another world and I. 

The years affect us only now; 

She leans nearly double . . . withering porcelain, 

I am yet tall and strong with beginnings. 

She has lived for all the years I'll live 

And has been many things I'll be; 

Some day my hours will be reflections, too, 

Another circle, different thoughts, but close 

Because the retrospect is quiet, inward, sacred . . . 

Recalling birth and smiles and conversation. 

Holding these inside until expression is lost; 

It's all the same her world and mine. 

All, in the end is harvest. 

Only time's wedge is between us, 

And it, too, will be pried out. 

We're bound together not by only blood. 

But tied by tears and grief and growth 

As women sisters are. 

We are united, touching, reaching out and back. 

Below and upward, on past time, through layered years 

Toward eternity with all our kind . . . 

How good that time is not all. 






Prize Winner 

Eliza R. Snow 

Poem Contest 

Julie H. Beecher, Martinez, California, is a first-time winner in the Eliza R. 
Snow Poem Contest. She speaks of herself as a "beginning writer." 

" 'Legacy' is the first poem I have ever submitted for publication, although 
I am deeply interested in writing and hope to improve and expand my ability 
in the future. 'Legacy' was inspired and is dedicated to my great-grandmother 
Catherine Heggie Griffith, who will be ninety-nine years old this spring. Her 
family helped to settle Clarkston, Utah, where they established their home 
soon after crossing the plains. My parents are Mr. and Mrs. M. D. Hammond 
of Preston, Idaho, and my sister Rhonda is the reigning 'Miss Idaho.' My 
husband is Dick H. Beecher, who is a music instructor at Diablo Valley College 
in Concord, California. We have a son Mark who will soon be three years old. 
We enjoy our Church activities in the Martinez Ward, where I am presently 
serving as education counselor in the Relief Society presidency." 


Third Prize Poem 


Pearle M. Olsen 

Forming The boundless ocean groaned! Its heaving strength 

Moved restlessly with bidding will of moon 
And wind, in ever-changing tidal length! 
Waves whipped in furious widening typhoon 
While roots of future islands, being born 
In darkest layers rupturing earth's core 
Spewed high again! Only the ocean, torn 
And timeless, knew the forming on its floor! 
Relentless effort, claiming right to be — 
With inch by painful inch of straining birth; 
Volcanic base, fringed coral filigree — 
A subterranean chain of writhing earth! 
The child of violence, risen from the deep — 
Mature and willing, luring nature's leap! 

Adorning The youthful surfaces of earth's marred shell — 

Nude islands, raw and waiting, empty-armed, 
Were swept by winds without a parallel 
And pounded by the force of rain's alarm! 
Their milling acts, on lava newly born. 
Made fertile soil for growth of migrant seed 
Let fall by halting bird, long weather-worn, 
Into a niche where sprouting could proceed. 
A few insects, wind-borne from distant land, 
With fragmentary green, wilting from strife — 
Found ways to give sweet growth to bare, unscanned 
And pregnant soil's potential — beauteous life! 
While poised on far-off shores, hoping to span 
The ocean, strained the earth's exploring man! 

* * * * 

Delighting We traveled into other lands where strange 

Unheeding eyes were set in alien clay. 
We sought for words within a bounded range 
Of verbal comprehension — to convey 
A strengthened lexicon in daily fare. 
We felt endearing warmth in cultures' ring; 
Considered remnant nations melting where 
East met West, in nature's subtle blending. 
We found within the cauldron those who knew 
The plan of life we cherished in our hearts. 
We loved and understood, as children do, 
The others whom a mother's womb imparts. 
Our love identified to kind — beyond 
The barriers of speech, in spirit bond! 






Prize Winner 

Eliza R. Snow 

Poem Contest 

Pearle M. Olsen, Salt Lake City, Utah, former president of North Sanpete 
Stake Relief Society, and former member of the General Board of Relief 
Society, is a second-time winner in the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. "I am 
delighted to be an award winner again this year," she says. "I find the years 
are challenging me for continued self-expression in the fields of creativity, and 
I especially enjoy the writing of poetry. A two-year mission call shortly before 
my nineteenth birthday interrupted my formal schooling. When marriage and 
family responsibilities ensued, I found that teaching in the Church auxiliaries, 
and educational classes, as I made time for them, helped to satisfy my quest 
for learning and development. Actually, the various positions I have held in 
Relief Society provided the greatest opportunities for intensive study and 
continuing education during most of my life. The past few years I have turned 
to writing classes and writers' organizations for stimulation and enlightenment. 
"My husband, William Carlyle Olsen, is a member of Ensign Stake High 
Council. Our three children are: Mrs. E. G. Jenkins (Billye) of Nampa, Idaho; 
John K. M. Olsen, Los Altos, California; and Mrs Robert Morris (Carlyle), 
Salt Lake City, Utah. We have fourteen grandchildren, seven girls and seven 


■ The Relief Society General Board is pleased to announce the award 
winners in the Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest, which was an- 
nounced in the May 1965 issue of The Relief Society Magazine, and which 
closed August 15, 1965. 

The first prize of seventy-five dollars is awarded to Evelyn Elizabeth 
Vesterfelt, Sudbury, Ontario, Canada, for her story "For Barbara, With 
Love." The second prize of sixty dollars Is awarded to Venda Brown Castle- 
berry, Rigby, Idaho, for her story "A Time to Every Purpose." The third prize 
of fifty dollars is awarded to Lael J. Littke, Monterey Park, California, for 
her story "The Search for Katie." 

The Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest was first conducted 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. 


The three prize-winning stories will be published consecutively in the first 
three issues of The Relief Society Magazine for 1966. 

Forty-nine stories were entered in the 1965 contest, including submis- 
sions from Wales, England, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, Mexico, and 
Alaska. Mrs. Vesterfelt is a first-time winner in the short story contest, and 
the General Board of Relief Society is pleased to see a Canadian sister 
among the winners. Mrs. Castleberry received the first prize in last year's 
contest, and Mrs. Littke placed second last year. 

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 de- 
velopment 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. 

Gratitude is extended to the members of the General Board who served 
on the short story committee, and to the judges who evaluated the stories 
and selected the winning entries. 



The Relief Society 

Short Story Contest 





Evelyn Elizabeth Vesterfelt 
Sudbury, Ontario, Canada 

■ Barbara took down the box of 
letters, choosing one carefully 
from the rather untidy collection 
within. The outer page was torn 
a little and beginning to take on 
the color of age. Opening the 
letter slowly, she began to read. 

''Darling, at last I can tell you 
where I am and why you haven't 
heard from me for quite awhile. 
This is D-day plus seven. I left 
England for the Continent on 
D-day plus three. (Isn't this a 
ridiculous way to describe time?) 
I keep thinking of that last night 
we were together at Winchester 
and the 'heavenly' meal of beans 
on toast at that old-fashioned 
restaurant. We had so much to 
say to each other and time was so 

"Darling, before I left England 
I mailed a book to you at your 
army address. Did you receive it 
O.K.? Will you read it and let me 
know what you think of it? Re- 

member our discussions on this 
subject and your utter amaze- 
ment at my 'credibility'? 

"Do you recall our standing in 
the rain outside your billet, with 
your twelve-o'clock deadline, and 
so many words left unspoken? I 
told you I loved you and asked 
you to wait for my return. You 
touched my cheek gently with 
your Hps and whispered, 'It's 
impossible, I've been so careful 
not to fall in love, especially with 
an American soldier!' 

"I love you, Barbara, and we 
will have a future together. Be- 
cause of this love, I want to share 
my thoughts, my dreams with 
you. Darling, you'll like America, 
and I'm sure you will be happy 
there with me. I have written my 
family and told them about my 
'English sergeant.' I'm not going 
to write of the fighting here, or of 
the unspeakably sordid aspect of 


"Thank you for your poem 
and for your overly kind com- 
ments on my poetry. FU try to 
write often. Read the book I sent 
. . . please. 

"Love me in absence as I love 


Barbara brushed the tears al- 
most surreptitiously away. Her 
thoughts went back to those war 
years. It was November 1943. 
Barbara and Monica, her closest 
friend, were planning their long 
week end in London. Monica, 
looking rather worried, turned to 

"I hate to tell you this, but I 
got a letter from Cam — you know 
— the American I met on my last 
leave. He wants to see me this 
week end in London. I've been 
wanting to tell you all week, but 

I knew we had planned this week 
end together and. ..." 

"Oh, Monica, don't feel badly 
about it, I can visit my aunt. She 
lives just outside London." 

Monica looked forlorn. "But I 
do feel awful! I know, why don't 
I write and ask if he has a friend 
... a sort of blind date? That's 
what I'll do, I'll write tonight!" 

Barbara shook her head fierce- 
ly. "No, no, I really don't approve 
of blind dates, they often prove 
embarrassing to both parties, 
especially if they don't hit it off." 
She smiled reassuringly. 

Monica was insistent. "Listen, 
Babs, Cam is a decent fellow, and 
I'm sure he will bring a nice 
friend. Do say you'll come with 

Barbara thought of the long- 
anticipated week end, and the 
prospect of spending it in Aunt 



Selina's huge, lonely house. "All 
right, but there's no obligation 
attached. Impress this upon your 
American friend." 

Now they were both on their 
way to London, Monica bubbling 
with excitement, and Barbara 
feeling apprehensive at the pros- 
pect of the unknown blind date. 

Their room on the top floor of 
the Y.W.C.A. on Baker Street 
was small but spotless. Monica 
had arranged for them to meet 
their dates in the downstairs 
lounge at eight o'clock in the 
evening. Dressing was no prob- 
lem, it simply meant a change of 
uniform, shirt, and shoes. 

Barbara felt a surge of excite- 
ment within her. This really was 
different, preparing to meet a 
blind date. 

Promptly at eight they de- 
scended the narrow spiral stair- 
case leading into the lounge, 
Monica well ahead, eyes shining 
and anxiously scanning the room 
for the two American uniforms. 
Barbara hung back. 

"Monica, I don't see any 
American soldiers, they didn't 
turn up. . . ." 

Monica hadn't heard. Forget- 
ting her lady-like descent, she 
streaked across the room and into 
the arms of a husky, dark-eyed 
American soldier, previously half- 
hidden by a reception cubicle. 

"Cam, oh. Cam . . . how nice 
to see you again!" Monica hug- 
ged him joyfully. 

"Monica, honey." Cam held 
her at arms' length. "We have an 
audience. This is Mac, full name. 
Glen McKinley. . . . By the way, 
Where's your friend?" 

Barbara stepped shyly forward, 
extending her hand to meet 

"Hello, Barbara, I'm very 
happy to know you." 

His grip was firm. Barbara 
raised her eyes to meet his, and 
to take a better look at her blind 
date. He was tall, well over six 
feet in height, with deep blue 
eyes and a broad smile. His hair 
was red, flaming red! Thought 
Barbara, one couldn't really call 
him handsome, but he has a cer- 
tain boyish look which is ex- 
tremely attractive. 

Mac was also taking stock. 
How tiny she is, about five feet 
high . . . and I'll bet she doesn't 
weigh over ninety pounds! His 
eyes photographed her features. 
Not vividly beautiful, he thought, 
dark hair tucked neatly beneath 
her severe army cap. Tiny, 
piquant face, wide-set gray eyes, 
a friendly smile ... no, not 
beautiful, but certainly appealing. 
He gave her a warm smile. 

Together, they left the resi- 
dence after deciding unanimously 
to go dancing at Covent Garden. 

Mac held Barbara's arm pro- 
tectively as they edged along the 
crowded street. He seemed reluc- 
tant to start a conversation, and 
Barbara felt rather shy and quite 
conscious of the warmth of his 
hand on her arm. The ballroom 
was comfortably filled. As soon as 
a table was secured, Monica and 
Cam got up to dance. Mac smiled 
at Barbara. "I'm not the best 
dancer in London, but shall we 
try this one?" 

The orchestra opened with the 
sweet, haunting strains of "Be- 
same Mucho," and Barbara 
glided into Mac's arms. 

Oh, dear, he dances differently 
than I ... I do hope my feet be- 
have themselves, she fretted 



He held her close, yet not 
uncomfortably so. Her steps 
blended magically with his, and 
they were no longer strangers. 

How quickly the evening 
passed, and, as they walked back 
to her billet, through streets 
black and lampless, Mac asked if 
he could see her again the next 

"Do you really want to see me 
— or is it because you feel you 
ought to carry this 'blind date' 
role to the end?" Barbara quickly 
touched his hand. "Vm sorry. I 
shouldn't have said that, please 
forgive me." 

"Now look here, sergeant, if I 
didn't want to see you again I 
wouldn't ask for a date!" He 
threw her a puckish grin. "After 
all, I've always wanted to get on 
good terms with a sergeant. I 
couldn't pass up such an oppor- 
tunity. And, incidentally, how 
come a half-pint like you ever 
made sergeant?" 

Barbara laughed merrily, "I'm 
asked that question dozens of 
times a week! My anwer is al- 
ways the same — I sat on the 
colonel's knee!" 

He ducked as if from an im- 
aginary blow. "Ouch, I deserved 

They climbed the steps of the 
residence. He held her hand in 
his, seeing her face dimly in the 
darkness. "Goodnight, little ser- 
geant, I'll see you tomorrow at 
twelve noon, Trafalgar Square." 

That night Monica and Bar- 
bara talked for hours, and Bar- 
bara fell asleep with the memory 
of Mac's gentle arm around her 
as they danced. 

Monica and Cam had made dif- 
ferent plans. They were to see 
the changing of the guard at 

Buckingham Palace. Barbara ex- 
plained her arrangements with 
Mac. "Oh, Monica, how are we 
going to get together? I forgot 
to ask about your arrangements!" 
Monica airily waved her hand. 
"Think nothing of it. ... I gain 
the distinct impression that Cor- 
poral McKinley wants to be 
alone with his sergeant." She 
smiled slyly. 

Once again Barbara experienced 
a surge of excitement as she 
walked towards Trafalgar Square 
and her second meeting with 
Mac. Would he be there . . . 
would he change his mind? There 
were so many diversions for the 
American soldiers in London. . . . 
Would he feel it was worth his 
while to keep the appointment? 
Her heart leapt as she saw him 
standing there, watching the 
strutting pigeons. He hurried to 
meet her with a broad smile of 
welcome on his boyish face. 

"Gosh, I was getting anxious!" 
Gently, he squeezed her arm. "Is 
there any special place you'd like 
to go, or shall we take the day 
as it comes?" He smiled question- 

"No special place," Barbara 
quickly added, "but what about 
you? You're an American, and 
perhaps I ought to show you the 

They turned into Piccadilly. 
"Honey," Mac replied, "I've seen 
all the sights, honest! What about 
lunch and an afternoon dance 
somewhere . . . and then the 
theatre . . . O.K.?" 

"Mac, you'll never get tickets 
for the theatre unless you book 
months ahead!" She shook her 
head at his naivete. 

"Ah-ha. . . . abracadabra and 



voila!" He waved two tickets in 
front of her. "Sheer bribery, 
that's what it is!" 

Barbara's eyes shone. ''Tickets 
to 'This Is the Army'. . . .How 
did you manage it? . . . No, don't 
tell me, that would be collusion, 
an accessory after the fact, or 
something like that! " She hugged 
his arm impulsively. 

Mac's heart did a somersault. 
Why did he feel such tenderness 
towards this girl who was almost 
a stranger? 

That night, as they walked 
along Baker Street, he told Bar- 
bara of his reluctance to accept 
Cam's offer of a blind date. His 
hand found hers. "I sure am glad 
I came, little one!" 

It had been a memorable day, 
spent in discovering each other, 
sharing each other's hopes and 
dreams for the future. Barbara 
told him of her attempts to write 
poetry, and felt a warm glow 
when Mac confessed also that he 
wrote poetry. 

"I make a wild stab at it. I've 
done it for years, but I'm no 
Walt Whitman!" He laughed. 
"What about you?" 

"I'm no Christina Rosetti . . . 
and I've also penned my poor ef- 
forts for years!" 

He told of his Sunday School 
work, and of his unwavering 
faith in God. Before they 
parted, he kissed her for the first 
time, somewhat shyly yet quite 
thoroughly. Barbara felt a strange 
stirring within her breast. She 
responded warmly to his kiss. 

"Goodnight, Barbara. Tomor- 
row we will have only a few 
hours together. What time does 
your train leave? Mine leaves at 
8:35 P.M." 

"Our train leaves at 7:30 p.m. 
worse luck! The week end has 
simply flown!" She opened the 
door of the residence, closing it 
quickly behind her so that no 
light would pierce the blackout. 

Their last precious hours were 
spent walking through St. James' 
Park, kicking the dry leaves, talk- 
ing, enjoying long moments of 

"You'll write to me?" His ex- 
pression was serious. "I don't 
want to lose you now that I've 
traveled thousands of miles to 
find you!" He grinned impishly. 
"That sounds corny, but I mean 

Barbara pressed his hand to 
her side. "Of course I'll write, 
and I'll send you one of my poems 
if you will send me yours, only 
. . . promise not to laugh at 

"That goes for you, too. I am 
afraid you'll chuckle when you 
read mine!" 

They both expertly jumped a 
puddle. "Come on!" She tugged 
at his hand. "Let's feed the 
swans. I saved two biscuits for 
this momentous occasion. Race 
you to the lake!" 

"Lake! Which lake . . . you 
mean that little creek down 
there!" Barbara threw a handful 
of leaves. "That, my dear Amer- 
ican, is a lake, and I'll not listen 
to any tall tales of Texas." 

He adopted an air of injured 
innocence, "I am not, repeat not 
a Texan, I'm from Oregon!" 

"And this is a lake, not, repeat 
not a creek!" Barbara stretched 
to her full height. "And I'm from 
Yorkshire, riot from London!" 

They both laughed as, with a 
great show of ceremony, she 
handed him a biscuit. "Mr. Mc- 



Kinley, your ration for this week, 
and half must go to the swans!" 

He scrutinized the golden 
wafer in his hand and, turning 
to her with a mischievous glint, 
exclaimed, "Ah, a cookie, a gen- 
uine English cookie!" 

Barbara exploded, "It is a bis- 
cuit, not a cookie! When in Rome 
. . . etc. etc!" 

They sat by the edge of the 
lake, the November mist giving 
them an unexpected privacy. 
Each grew silent, thinking of the 
parting so close at hand. 

As the train began to move 
away from the platform, Mac 
whispered something softly a- 
gainst her cheek. "This is crazy, 
but I think I'm in love." They 
watched each other until the 
train rounded a curve in the 
tracks. Did she really hear those 
words, or was it just imagina- 

Afterwards, there were letters, 
many of them, some containing 
poems, and one bulging with 
snapshots. There were outpour- 
ings of the heart, and a growing 
understanding of each other. 

There was a final meeting in 
Winchester, and a declaration of 
love. Both knew there was some- 
thing big about to happen, some 
great push, or the opening up of 
another front in some far-off 
theatre of war. 

A week after their meeting and 
subsequent reluctant parting in 
Winchester, Barbara received a 

parcel from Mac. Twelve bars of 
precious chocolate and two bars 
of soap. Nestled in the centre of 
this treat was a book similar 
in appearance to the Bible. On 
the fly leaf was written, "For 
Barbara, with love. Because I 
know that our future belongs to- 
gether, I am sending you this 
book. I want to share my faith 
with you, and ask only that you 
read with an open mind, praying 
for understanding of those things 
which may seem incomprehen- 
sible to you. I love you, Mac." 

She kept the book in her room 
in the sergeants' mess, looking 
at it only occasionally, under- 
standing nothing that was writ- 
ten there. The history written 
therein was totally alien to her. 
She was puzzled by its literacy, 
but too engrossed by the war to 
delve deeper into its mysteries. 

Twenty-nine days after Mac 
landed on the Continent of Eu- 
rope with the invasion forces, 
Barbara received a letter from 

"Dear Barbara: This is a sad 
assignment for me. I must be the 
one to break the news of Mac's 
death. He was killed in action on 
D-day plus eleven. I myself am 
in a base hospital, but not badly 
hurt, just a few scratches. I'm 
terribly sorry. I really don't know 
what else can I say. God bless 
you. Cam. . . ." 

Barbara folded the faded letter 
and replaced it at the bottom of 
the pile in the box. 

Her small son threw his arms 
around her legs. "Mommy, did 
you fall. . . . Why are you cry- 
ing?" He looked up anxiously into 
her face. 

"No, dear. Mommy is just re- 
membering someone, a very nice 
person whom I knew a long time 



ago." She moved her finger along 
the rows of books, stopping to 
take out one similar in appear- 
ance to the Bible. She traced the 
embossed title on the cover. 
"What is it called, Mommy?" 
asked her son. "Is it a fairy 

She sat down by the telephone, 
lifted the child into her arms, 
and read the title slowly to him. 
"The . . . Book . . . of . . . Mor- 



'Is it a fairy story? May I hear 

Barbara opened the book to 
the fly leaf. As she read the in- 
scription, the past became the 
present for her once more. 

"For Barbara, with love. . . . 
Because I know that our future 
belongs together, I am sending 
you this book. I want to share 
my faith with you, and ask only 
that you read with an open mind, 
praying for understanding of 
those things which may seem in- 
comprehensible to you. I love 
you, Mac." 

Absentmindedly, she ruffled 
her son's hair, thinking of the 
years between. Of the new love 
she had found, of her subsequent 

marriage, and the birth of this 
dear child. 

On the telephone pad was a 
number which she slowly dialed. 

"Hello. This is Mrs. Barbarst 
Thomas. You gave me your num- 
ber to call in case I should change 
my mind. You knocked at my 
door earlier today, and I said I 
was not interested. Well, I have 
changed my mind. I'd like to hear 
what you have to say. No, I don't 
require a Book of Mormon. I had 
one given me during the war, but 
I never got around to reading it. 
I know nothing about your re- 
ligion, really, although the per- 
son who gave me the book must 
have been of your faith. He said 
he'd been on a mission or some- 
thing like that. . . . We didn't 
have time to talk much about it, 
and I'm afraid I was reluctant 
to discuss religion, so he didn't 
press the issue. . . . Yes, any day 
will suit me. Wednesday will be 
just fine, two-thirty. Thank you. 
Goodbye. ..." 

Barbara opened The Book of 
Mormon at the first chapter and 
began to read aloud to her son, 
"I, Nephi, having been bom of 
goodly parents. ..." 

Evelyn Elizabeth Vesterfelt, a newcomer to the pages of The Relief Society 
Magazine, lives in Sudbury, Ontario, Canada. "I am most honored," she writes, 
"to receive first prize in the contest. I feel quite humble and surprised that I 
was chosen. I was born in Leeds, Yorkshire, England, and served four and one- 
half years as a sergeant with the British Army, before coming to Canada as a 
war bride in 1946. In February 1950, I was converted to the Church, and 
shortly thereafter was instrumental in bringing my sister into the Church. All 
my family live in Leeds. 

"I have been writing poetry since my kindergarten years, and contribute 
regularly to the poetry section of The Sudbury Daily Star. I have also con- 
tributed to The Improvement Era. I have one son, Colin, age eighteen, and 
now in his sophomore year at Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah. He is 
hoping to go on a mission next fall, when he will be nineteen. I am active in 
Church work, being a Junior Sunday School teacher and music conductor in 
Junior Sunday School, and also chorister in sacrament meetings. I teach 
literature in Relief Society and conduct the music for this organization. 

"My hobbies are reading (mostly non-fiction), listening to classical music, 
and occasionally attending a good play." 


Wheat for the Wise 

Margery S. Stewart 
Chapter 1 

■ It began on an October after- 
noon. Jennie, wheeling the new 
car homeward, in the South 
Temple Street traffic, felt the 
change in the weather. She 
looked with love on the leaves 
flowing past her from the flaming 
trees. The year was a river rush- 
ing toward the white silences. 
She snuggled under the soothing 
mink of her collar and touched 
her bright hair carefully. What 
would Rex say to the new color? 
Laugh probably, with the lines 
raying out from the comers of 
his eyes. Rex was maturing in 
such a charming way, even his 
graying hair was an advantage 
against his glowing tan. But of 
course, thirty-five was not elder- 
ly, to say the least. 

Jennie looked at her watch. 
Sabra's birthday! The cake not 
frosted, the ten candles not 

bought, and here it was five al- 
ready! How the afternoon melted 
when the girls all got together. 
In all the feverish feminine chat- 
ter everyone seemed to forget 
that they would all be together 
again in just five hours at still 
another party. Jennie hurried 
the gas pedal and raced for her 
own driveway. 

She shivered when she saw the 
house. She still could not over- 
come her delight in its newness 
and beauty. She stood for a mo- 
ment on the curved brick walk 
to enjoy the smooth good looks 
of the place. Oh, she was the 
lucky one . . . she, Jennie Starr, 
was one of the lucky women in 
America. . . . Let the headlines 
wave black banners ... let the 
far-off tumults shout from the 
television screens ... let the riots 
and the seething mistrust rise 
and fall . . . she, Jennie Starr, had 
a sanctuary for herself and her 
family. She lived in a fortress 
on this lovely street on this Oc- 
tober day. Whatever the morrow 



might bring, today this beautiful 
four-bedroom, two-bath house, 
with a family room and a family, 
was hers. All the charming peo- 
ple inside were hers, from Rex 
the tall, to Johnnie the newest. 

Jennie ran up the stairs out 
of the crisp cold and flung open 
the door. "I'm home, my dar- 

The shout of welcome came 
simultaneously with their cata- 
pulting bodies. 

"Did you bring me a s'prize?" 
demanded Lora, and without 
waiting, "Look, what we have!" 

Jennie looked cautiously and 
kept herself from leaping on a 
chair with an effort. "Darling, 
mouses belong outdoors." 

"Mice," corrected Lance grave- 
ly, "and besides. Mother, this is 
white and you buy them at the 

"All mice," said Jennie firmly, 
"white or brown, store or other- 
wise . . . out . . . out!" 

Lora looked at her in disap- 
pointment. "It will die," she said, 
"do you want it to die?" 

"It sure will die," echoed 
Lance, "and it cost me a dollar 
and a half." 

Johnny puffed from the kit- 
chen. His diapers dragged and 
he clutched a toothbrush in one 

Lance put in quickly, "The 
new baby sitter is real good." 

Jennie examined the tooth- 
brush. She looked at Lance 

He nodded. "I think so. I 
heard him in the downstairs 

Jennie sighed and confiscated 
the toothbrush. 

The new baby sitter came in 
from the kitchen. Jennie made a 
mental note of the red ring on 

the rosy cheek, caused by the 

"They were real good, Mrs. 
Starr. I didn't have a bit of 

"Thank you, Ann Frieda." 
Jennie fished in her purse for 
money. She lifted her head, 
suddenly aware. "Where is Sa- 

The children looked about and 
absently counted each other. Ann 
Frieda flushed to her hairline. 

"She went out, Mrs. Starr . . . 
she said it was just for a minute." 

"But I told you she was to 
stay in bed . . . her throat. She 
couldn't even have a party be- 
cause she was so ill." 

Lance said quickly, "You know 
how people let Sabra have her 
way. Mother. I'll go find her." 

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Starr." 

"Was Sabra bad?" asked Lora 

"No!" Jennie stopped and bit 
her lip. "Sabra is . . . Sabra . . . 
absent-minded. She wouldn't 
mean not to obey . . . she just 

Ann Frieda vanished in a great 
breath of relief at being done 
with the afternoon. Lance went 
off like a rocket to look for 
Sabra. Lora took the candy bar 
surprise and went back to her 
room and the paper dolls. 

Jennie picked Johnny up and 
took him to the downstairs bed- 
room to take care of him. Then 
she washed her hands, and 
ploughed her way back to the 
kitchen. She must look for an- 
other sitter. 

The birthday cake she had 
baked that morning waited for 
frosting. Jennie pushed John in- 
to the high chair, searched for 



The windows above the sink 
looked out into the back garden. 
As Jennie watched, Sabra came 
through the trees. The place 
had been an orchard before the 
house was built, and Jennie had 
pleaded that all the trees possible 
be left untouched. The depart- 
ing sun had left something of 
splendor in the air, and it clung 
in gold light to Sabra's smooth 
dark hair. Jennie leaned against 
the sink, the thin sword of love 
and fear running through her 
chest. Without her sweater as 
well . . . and walking so slowly 
through the chill . . . would the 
child never learn? What did she 
find to think about in all the 
hours she hoarded to herself? 

wlennie looked at her daughter 
with troubled eyes. How could a 
child be one's own and yet be a 
stranger? Sabra was too thin . . . 
like a small wraith against the 
trees. Her long hair lifted on the 
wind, glossy and glowing, combed 
back from her forehead and kept 
in place by a band. Sabra's fore- 
head was high and clear and her 
eyes, Jennie sensed, were gath- 
erers of beauty and that was why 
they had the changing colors. 
They took the shine from what- 
ever they looked upon, hills or 
water or skies. 

"Sabra!" Jennie went to the 
door and called the name sharply. 

Sabra looked up and smiled. 
"Mother . . . how beautiful you 

Jennie took a step backward. 
Sabra was the only one of the 
children who had noticed her 

Sabra broke into a leaping run. 
Jennie knew it was the new hair 
color that drew her and not her 
harsh command. 

Sabra put her fingers lightly on 
Jennie's hair and on her cheeks, 
as if sight were not enough and 
she must, through fingertips, 
draw to her the essence of her 

Jennie blinked fiercely. She 
held the bird arms in her cupped 
palms. Cold . . . the child was 
frozen. "How is your throat? 
Let me see." 

Sabra obediently opened her 

Jennie groaned, sighting the 
angry red. 

Sabra pulled away. "Oh, moth- 
er, the loveliest thing happened 
to me today . . . the very love- 
liest . . . ." 

"How do you expect the peni- 
cillins to help you, when you 
dehberately go against them by 
getting chilled like this?" Jen- 
nie realized she was speaking in 
the high, hard voice she hated. 
She went on, "Your father and I 
pay good money for the doctor 
... we do everything in our 
power. ..." 

"Listen, Mother ... I know it 
off by heart . . . the whole . . . 
whole thing." 

Jennie rolled her eyes skyward 
and went back to the mixing 
bowl. She braced herself to hear 
one of the interminable poems 
Sabra adored, or a new Brownie 
song that made her limp with its 

"Are you listening. Mother?" 


Sabra planted her feet firmly 
apart. She looked out the win- 
dows. Jennie saw that tonight 
the eyes were darkly blue and 
too bright. 

" *. . . Blessed are the poor in 
spirit: for theirs is the kingdom 
of heaven. Blessed are they that 



mourn: for they shall be com- 
forted. Blessed are the meek: for 
they shall inherit the earth. . . .' " 

Jennie held the electric mixer 
silent in her hand. She looked 
at Sabra, and slow waves of pain 
went through her as the words, 
beloved and cherished of Sabra, 
fell from her lips and seemed to 
linger in the dusk. Sabra knew 
the Beatitudes to the end. 

"Where did you learn them?" 
Jenny asked stiffly. 

''Over at Jean's." 

''Did they make you learn 
them?" She kept impatience from 
her voice with an effort. 

"No." Sabra was trying a back 
bend now. "Jean's church gives 
them cards with pictures of mar- 
tyrs and the what did you call 
them? Beatitudes?" 

"What made you memorize 
them?" Jennie asked slowly. 

"I wanted to," Sabra said, 
"Jean has a big picture of Jesus 
over her bed, and she told me 
he was the holiest one who ever 
lived. Is that true?" She stopped 
in the act of another back bend. 
"What is holyT' 

Jennie bit her lip. "Someone 
who is very good." 

"Blessed are the pure in heart," 
repeated Sabra carefully, "for 
they shall see God." She smiled 
at Jennie happily, "That's the 
best one. That's the one I'm 
going to keep." Sabra went out 
of the room, and to Jennie it 
seemed the child drew with her 
all the softness and light of the 
fallen day. 

Jennie flipped the switch. The 
kitchen was immediately bright 
and glittering with chrome and 
copper. She browned pork chops 
and made sauce and rice and 
emptied frozen vegetables into 
steaming water. 

Her mind was filled with mem- 
ory and with apprehension — 
memory of that radiant moment 
when Sabra was first placed in 
her arms — apprehension and 
worry over Sabra's future. Even 
in the beginning a sacred ordi- 
nance had been denied. Sabra 
had not received her name in 
fast meeting before the saints 
assembled. She had been denied 
a father's blessing. Her early 
years had not been lighted by 
the gospel. 

The kitchen still seemed hol- 
low with Sabra's going. Jennie 
chopped lettuce . . . "Blessed 
are the poor in spirit . . . for 
theirs is the kingdom of heaven." 

She looked quickly in the cor- 
ner, she felt guilty, as if her 
father might be standing there. 
But then she saw it was because 
his chair was against the desk, 
the chair that she had chosen 
when they were dividing his 
things, because he had used it 
so often. So now she could feel 
him sitting there still, with his 
Book of Mormon and his Doc- 
trine and Covenants . . . and his 
far-off look, like Sabra's, that 
look of inward seeing. How the 
two of them would have got 
along . . . like a house afire. 

Jennie felt ill. How her father 
would have looked at her ... a 
grandchild of his having to go 
to a neighbor's house to learn 
the Beatitudes. 

Jennie peeled the tomatoes. 
Her father, though, was so strict. 
He had thought there was a pen- 
alty for not teaching children. 
He had taught her . . . oh, so 
carefully, but in the end she had 
married outside the Church. But 
she had loved Rex. When she 
saw him she knew there could 



never be anyone for her but Rex 
... it didn't matter what he was 
. . . only Rex. When one married 
outside the Church ... it was 
only natural to put away the 
contentious things ... as she 
had done. They didn't count. 
That is, one just didn't think 
about those things any more . . . 
that is . . . when one's father died, 
and there was no one to remind 
and help. 

"Blessed are the poor in spir- 
it " 

She heard Rex's car in the 
drive and, in a moment, he came 
charging in, filling the house 
with his own brand of electricity. 
He stopped on the threshold 
when he saw her and made a 
great thing of covering his eyes 
when he looked at her hair. 

He pretended to grope his way 
to her, "I'm blind ... all that 
brightness. I can't see anything! 
What did they put on you? Lady 
Carolee's Sunburst or Lavender 

"You don't like it?" 

"Sometimes I feel wistful for 
the old days when ladies bought 
hats instead of hair . . . but then 
I'm a reactionary." But he was 
laughing at her ... as he loved 
to do, rejoicing in her femininity 
and her pretty follies. "You 
dazzle me, darling!" He took her 
in his arms and hugged her with 
a great and joyous energy. "Pet- 
er Mills saw all you ladies having 
lunch at the Roof today. He said 
you looked like a convention of 

"You mean the minks?" 

His grin teased her. "Now 

that everybody has one . . . where 

are the status symbols?" 

"Joan's is newer . . . and a 

He came over to peer at the 
cake and to run his finger ex- 
pertly around the frosting bowl. 
"Put the music box in?" 

"Yes, I did." 

He went over to Johnnie who 
was beginning to make sounds, 
lifted him out. "He's wet." 

"Your turn." 

"O.K. Where are the others?" 

"Sabra was out this afternoon 
. . . after I told her . . . ." 

He stopped short, his brows 
together, "What was the baby 
sitter doing?" 

"She's new . . . she doesn't 
understand Sabra." 

"She didn't have to understand 
her . . . just keep her inside. Did 
I tell you what Sabra's tempera- 
ture was last night?" 
"It was 104. She scares me." 

Sabra came into the kitchen. 
She had put on her nightgown 
and slippers. She leaned against 
her father. 

"Why did you go out?" he 

Jennie hurried to mute the 

"Your father was worried about 

But Sabra looked at him with- 
out fear. "I went over to see if 
I knew all the words . . . and I 
did," She snuggled against him. 
"Jean said I could belong to her 
church . . . since I didn't have 
one of my own." 

"You whatT' Rex's voice rose 
to a shout. He looked accusingly 
at Jennie. 

Jennie hesitated. There was 
the agreement she and Rex had 
made before their marriage, no 
religion ever. But Jennie looked 
at Sabra's thin face. Does a child 



rise up from a sick bed and go in 
search of words for which she 
has no need? What was it that 
Sabra had to have that sent her 
out in the chill October after- 
noon? Jennie shivered, remem- 
bering her father's warning, "A 
parent is culpable if a child grows 
up in ignorance." Culpable . . . 
culpa . . . mea culpa. Her fa- 
ther's assertion, "The spiritual 
hunger in man is God's own 
longing for his child." 

"What's going on?" Rex was 
on the verge of one of his angers. 
Placate him, said Jennie to her- 
self, but instead she said directly, 
"Your daughter went to a neigh- 
bor to learn that which she was 
not allowed to learn at home." 

Rex glared, "With a whole 
new set of Encyclopedias! Come 
off it!" 

"Listen," said Sabra in her 
light, quick voice, "Blessed are 
they which do hunger and thirst 
after righteousness: for they shall 
be filled." 

Rex exchanged a glance with 
Jennie. He gave Sabra a swift 
pat, "Run along up to bed. 
We'll discuss this later." 

Jennie watched the child dance 
away. She looked at Rex. He was 
girding himself, she could tell it 
by looking at him. He was sum- 
moning all the logic and argu- 
ments and refutations. 

Jennie straightened her shoul- 
ders. She was stepping out on a 
tightrope. She felt the air under 
her, and the long fall if she stum- 
bled. The pity of it was she had 
never taken tight-rope walking 
lessons. How did one, so foohsh 
and so unready, guide herself and 
her family safely to the other 
side. There was no question in 
her mind as to what was required 
of her, Sabra had only brought 
it to the surface, the family need. 

"No," said Rex firmly. "We're 
getting along just fine." 

"Are we?" asked Jennie. 

(To be continued) 


Linnie F. Robinson 

January comes knocking at my door 

Where scattered fragments of the year remain, 

In tasks attempted or left undone. 

And where discouragement had grown to pain. 

But January pushes wide the door — 

A calendar of days is in his hand; 

My troubles fall like paper to the floor — 

New time Is mine — the glass is full of sand. 

And so I take the legacy of hours 
And treadle at the waiting loom of day; 
How blithely did I use the springtime up, 
How prodigal of every summer way. 

But now these hours in new dimensions shine 
For I have learned to husband and to ply; 
The world has in it so much to learn 
But best of all is time again to try. 



And Tell of Time" 

"Our times are in his hand, who said a whole I planned. . . ." 
■ When we consider time and speak of its many meanings, we find no 
other word that can take its place. Time can be described, and its 
various elements given individual significance; it can be said that time 
is a period, a duration, a point of passing, an allotted portion of days 
or years, or of infinity — thus are definitions given. Time for us here 
upon the earth is that interval between leaving the Father's "courts 
on high" and returning home again. To the Latter-day Saint, time has 
a revealed and sacred meaning, for we have been given instruction on 
times past, our pre-existence; the present, our earth life; and the 
future judgments and glories. 

Now, at the time of the New Year, there comes a moment in the 
summation of days, a midnight time of turning, a forward view into 
the morning of the year, fresh and new, and waiting the inscription of 
thoughts and deeds, ideals, and accomplishments. 

It is in this moment between farewell and beginning, that we are im- 
pressed again with a blessing of great worth — our families — our 
ancestors and our posterity. Again we rejoice in the deep roots of the 
family tree, and in the beauty of the spreading branches — even the 
tremulous uncertainty of the newest twigs. 

In our home evenings, in presenting the gospel heritage to each 
other, it is well to remember that we are the inheritors of a great 
treasure of enlightenment; we are the keepers of the treasure; and 
we are they who must give its shining glory to our children. 

Recently, as part of a home evening presentation, each member of the 
family was asked to describe one of the ancestors, to tell where the 
loved one had been born, his appearance, and his occupation, how and 
when he became a member of the Church. Then, the other family 



Volume 53 January 1966 Number 1 

• Belle S. Spafford, President 

• Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 

• Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 

• Hulda P. Young, Secretary-Treasurer 

members were asked to make identification of the man or the woman 
in the line of ancestry. This was a turning of the hearts of the children 
to another time and place, and to one of the early strong and noble 
branches of the family tree. 

Sometimes it is possible to evoke a rewarding evaluation of gospel 
principles by asking the person, making his description of an early 
family member, to consider the particular principle of the gospel which 
first appealed to one newly converted to the Church. In one family, 
where a ten-year-old had been reading the diary of a great-great-grand- 
father, he noted the enlightening statement: "It seemed to me that the 
principle of continued revelation stood out in great beauty before me, 
and I felt as if the windows of heaven had been opened wide." 

The realization that our families, even in pre-existence, were in- 
structed in gospel doctrine, that the Church presently blesses our 
family organization, gives us strength and wisdom and direction, 
sheltering us with faith — that by the principles and ordinances of the 
gospel, the family units can be forwarded into the great stream of time 
beyond mortality. In all of the family, from the eldest down to the 
smallest twigs, a sense of strength and security and continuing bless- 
ings can be instilled so that all the branches of the family tree shelter 
and protect the earthly home, and project its counterpart into the 
timeless eternities. 

So, in this beginning of the New Year, let us weave together into 
our lives the treasures from the past; let us live in the present to the 
full extent of our opportunities; and may we walk by faith into that 
promised future when the gospel light still will bless our families. 

— V.P.C. 

^S^I-e^^sr-"^ ^=^^ 

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 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 


EIna P. Haymond 

Hazel S. Love 

Cleone R. Eccles 

Mary R. Young 

Fawn H. Sharp 

Edythe K. Watson 

Mary V. Cameron 

Celestia J. Taylor 

Ellen N. Barnes 

Afton W. Hunt 

Irene C. Lloyd 

Kathryn S. Gilbert 

Wealtha S. Mendenhall 

Anne R. Gledhill 

Verda F. Burton 

Elsa T. Peterson 

Belva B. Ashton 

Myrtle R. Olson 

Fanny S. Kienitz 

Zola J. McGhie 

Alice C. Smith 

Elizabeth B. Winters 

Oa J. Cannon 

Lucile P. Peterson 

LaRue H. Rose!! 

Lila B. Walch 

Elaine B. Curtis 

Jennie R. Scott 

Lenore C. Gundersen 

Alice L. Wilkinson 

Marjorie C. Pingree 

Irene W. Buehner 

Darlene C. Dedekind 


Ramona W. Cannon 

Helen Hayes, beloved American act- 
ress, has written her biography A Gift 
of Joy (M. Evans and Company, Inc., 
Publishers) in collaboration with Lewis 
Funke. She shares with her readers the 
treasures of love and friendship, favor- 
ite people, beloved passages from 
plays, books, and poetry, indelible ex- 
periences on stage and in solitude, 
personal thoughts, sorrows, and radiant 
moments that have filled her life. 

Mrs. Herta Levy, a prominent stock- 
broker, associated with Paine, Weber, 
Jackson, and Curtis (New York City) 
is also a wife, mother, sportswoman, 
and world traveler. Her sympathetic 
understanding of the needs of the 
woman investor permeates the forty- 
seven offices of her company. Her 
special assignment is to help wives and 
widows, business and professional 
women, to establish investment goals 
and set up programs to meet them. 
Active in many philanthropies, she 
serves on the Women's Board of The 
Foundation for Hearing and Speech 
Rehabilitation of The Michael Reese 

Ora Pate Stewart, a Latter-day Saint 
writer, has on the market a charmingly 
bound and illustrated book of poems 
covering a wide range of subjects and 
published by Paragon Press, Incorpor- 
ated, Salt Lake City. The title of the 
book is "West Wind Song." 

Maria Anatassova, a Bulgarian, thirty- 
five years old, has become the first 
woman captain of an airliner. In mid- 
October she flew a commercial air- 
liner from Bulgaria to London, England. 

Miss Marie Moua, of the Latter-day 
Saint French Polynesian Mission, be- 
cause of her beauty and personality, 
became Miss Tahiti for 1965. 

Mrs. J. Armont Willardsen, Salt Lake 
City, Utah, business woman, has be- 
come the national president of the 
Women's Division of the National 
Apartment House Owners Association. 
She was the only woman speaker at 
the organization's national convention 
in Oakland, California. 

Beatrice Majors Van VIeet Burns, 
wife of the Governor of Hawaii, a busy 
official hostess, and mistress of the 
twenty-four room mansion where Queen 
Liliuokalani lived after the Hawaiian 
monarchy was overthrown, conducts 
her numerous responsibilities from a 
wheel chair. She was stricken with polio 
thirty years ago and has been unable 
to walk since that time. She was born 
in Oregon, a descendant of Colonel 
Alexander Majors of Pony Express 
fame. As an army nurse in Hawaii in 
1930, she met the present Governor 
of Hawaii, John Burns, then a student 
at the University of Hawaii. Mother of 
three children, an admired homemaker, 
social and civic worker, as well as a 
companion and helpmeet to her hus- 
band, she is greatly admired for her 
graciousness and courage. 

Miss Sharon Moline, a Mormon girl, 
is Miss Wool of America, and on her 
tour was received by President John- 


Notes to the Field 

Bound Volumes of 1965 Magazines 

Relief Society officers and members who wish to have their 1965 
issues of The Rehef Society Magazine bound may do so through The 
Deseret News Press, 1600 Empire Road, Salt Lake City, Utah 84104 
(See advertisement in this issue of the Magazine.) The cost for bind- 
ing the twelve issues in a permanent cloth binding is $3.25, leather 
$5.25, including the index. A limited number of 1965 Magazines are 
available at the offices of the General Board of Relief Society, 76 
North Main Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111, for $2.00 for twelve 
issues. It is recommended that wards and stakes have one volume of 
the 1965 Magazines bound for preservation in ward and stake Relief 
Society libraries. 

Copies of The Relief Society Magazine index for 1965 for personal 
binding can be secured from the General Board office for 20^ prepaid. 

Volumes bound at the Deseret News Press include a free index. 


Sylvia Probst Young 

You came in that dark hour of my grief, 
That hour of poignant loneliness and doubt, 
When hope's small candle suddenly burned out. 
You came — and was it strange I found relief 
In tender eyes that spoke your sympathy. 
And warming strength within your healing hand? 
i should have known that you would understand. 
For you have had your own Gethsemane. 

You had no words to give me, but instead 
You listened to my torn heart's longing cry, 
And shared my tears, I cannot wonder why 
Having you listen left me comforted. 

My faltering feet you guided — ^then we found 
A path of peace — a quiet vale of dawn. 
You gave me light when all my light was gone — 
By your solicitude my wounds were bound. 

I could not tell you then, but oh, my dear, 
God knew my need and surely sent you here. 


1966 March of Difnes 

George P. Voss 

Vice-President for Public Relations 
The National Foundation — March of Dimes 

■ The 1966 March of Dimes campaign, which begins January 2 and 
lasts the entire month, will again be directed against birth defects — 
the nation's second greatest destroyer of life. 

Not long ago, no one talked about birth defects. The subject 
was taboo — never mentioned in conversation, in print or on the air. 

But afflictions that disable more than a quarter of a million live- 
bom American babies each year cannot be ignored out of existence. 
The nation's second greatest killer — causing 60,000 deaths each 
year among children and adults, plus an estimated 500,000 deaths 
before birth — cannot be dismissed in silence. 

The public has begun to talk about birth defects, to read and 
listen with interest, and to take action to correct or prevent these 
destroyers of bodies, minds, and lives. 

The National Foundation-March of Dimes is well on the way to 
meeting the vast challenges presented by birth defects. Public 
support of the March of Dimes will permit expansion of programs 
of research to find causes and means of prevention. Public support 
will help improve the quality of medical care to help today's children 
whose lives are limited by physical or mental defects. 

The conquest of polio proved that an aroused public, working with 
science, can speed victory over disease. 

Research can lead toward prevention of many defects. Highest 
quahty medical care can often help children bom crippled in mind 
and body. The March of Dimes supports both. 

The success of the work of the National Foundation — March of 
Dimes has always depended on a partnership between the public 
and scientists. 


Ethel Jacobson 

Dunes move here, there .... 
Housewife wind always rearranging 
The furniture. 


■^ k 


The Blue 
Crystal Vase 

Betty Lou Martin Smith 

■ Elizabeth Kirk walked the 
length of her front porch to see 
if Mr. Jonas, the mailman, was 
on time. As usual, a woman 
could set her clock by him. Com- 
ing down the block at his steady 
gait, he waved ahead at Eliza- 

"Nice morning, Mrs. Kirk," he 
called in his cheerful way. "It 
looks as if we have a letter for 
you today." 

"Thank you, Mr. Jonas," EH- 
zabeth said, as she reached for 
the envelope. "It is always nice 
to receive mail, especially when 
one is alone." 

Mr. Jonas smiled as he turned 
to leave. "Have a pleasant day, 
Mrs. Kirk." 

The comfortably warm May 
morning allowed Elizabeth to 
enjoy the pleasure of her front 



porch. She spent many lovely 
afternoons and evenings there, 
sipping lemonade and eating oat- 
meal cookies. 

Instantly Elizabeth recognized 
the handwriting of her daugh- 
ter, Camille. She smiled to her- 
self as she looked at the writing. 
It could hardly be called neat. 
Camille, the charming, warm- 
hearted, gay one in the family 
had never been noted for her 
scholarly ambitions. She was a 
lovely young girl and had now 
grown into a lovely woman. Her 
daughter, Lisa, was a younger 
version of Camille in looks and 
personality. She, too, was blonde, 
blue-eyed, and charming; how- 
ever there the similarity ended. 
She was noted for her scholastic 
record, and for her accuracy and 
speed in accomplishing whatever 
she set out to do. 

Elizabeth was proud of this 
mother and daughter, and she 
was happy to learn that Lisa, an 
only child, would be married in 
the fall to a young lawyer for 



whom she had been working dur- 
ing the past year. It was well 
known in the city that this young 
lawyer came from a very success- 
ful family that occupied an im- 
portant place in the social life 
of the city. 

The letter lay on the porch 
swing beside Elizabeth, still un- 
opened as her thoughts turned 
to Lisa. She hoped that being in 
such a prominent family would 
not change Lisa; she had been 
reared well, but her family could 
hardly be called wealthy in the 
material things of the world. 

Elizabeth carefully opened the 

The last paragraph of the letter 

Lisa's fiance will be in the East on 
her birthday, and her father will 
be away on business, also. It is un- 
fortunate but there is not any way 
that they will be able to change 
their plans. Therefore, Lisa and I 
thought that we would spend that 
week end with you. She feels that 
this will be the last time that she will 
be able to be with you for awhile. If 
this meets with your approval, and no 
other member of the family plans to 
visit you at this time, then we will 
come. Let me know as soon as you 
can. Love, Camille. 

Elizabeth, widowed for a num- 
ber of years, was excited and hap- 
py. She went into the house and 
immediately answered Camille's 
letter. It would be pleasant to 
visit with Camille and Lisa again. 
It had been such a long time since 
they had spent a week end with 

Elizabeth gazed about the 
living room. She must busy her- 
self cleaning before the arrival 
of Camille and Lisa. 

The sun cast warm rays about 
the room, making the worn spots 
in some of the older furniture 

even more noticeable. It had 
been such a long time since Eliza- 
beth had bought any new furni- 
ture. She smiled to herself. Some- 
how she couldn't make up her 
mind to trade the old furniture 
in on something new. 

Slowly Elizabeth walked over 
to the old china closet in the 
corner of the room. This she 
should clean first thing. All of 
the old dishes must be washed. 
Opening the glass door, Eliza- 
beth reached inside and tenderly 
touched one or two of the dishes; 
then her hand rested upon a blue 
crystal vase. She picked it up 
and held it to her. 

Such a lovely vase, she thought. 
It had had a great deal of mean- 
ing in each of its past owners' 
lives. It was a wedding present 
to her Grandmother Daniels. 
How she had treasured it in her 
comfortable home in the East. 
The vase had had a special place 
upon the mantel, its color com- 
plementing the rest of the room. 

Elizabeth remembered her Grand- 
mother telling her of their con- 
version to the Latter-day Saint 
faith. They had left their com- 
forts and their successful life 
in the East to come to Zion. 
There just was not room enough 
to bring luxuries, only the neces- 
sities. When the time had come 
to leave, however, Elizabeth's 
Grandmother had decided to 
bring along the vase. 

Many times in their journey 
West, Grandmother Daniels had 
opened the dusty trunk, reached 
down to the bottom, and brought 
out the vase. It grew to be a 
symbol of hope for a bright and 
beautiful future with their new- 
found faith. 



As a child, Elizabeth recalled 
seeing the vase standing on the 
table in the modest Uving room of 
Grandma Daniels' home. Always 
when she did her cleaning, Grand- 
mother Daniels would dust the 
vase first. 

After Grandma Daniels' death, 
Elizabeth's mother took the vase. 
How it had survived the hands of 
little children wanting to touch 
it, Elizabeth marveled. Finally, 
in desperation, Elizabeth's moth- 
er had put it above the reach of 
small hands. It was too much a 
part of the family to risk having 
it broken. EUzabeth wondered to 
whom she should pass on the 
vase. Carefully she put it back in 
its place in the closet and gently 
shut the door. 

The ensuing days went by a 
little too slowly for Elizabeth as 
she anticipated her daughter and 
granddaughter's visit. Then, at 
last, the day arrived, and Camille 
and Lisa were walking up the 
sidewalk to the old two-story 

"At last you're here!" Eliza- 
beth hugged her kin affection- 
ately. "I thought that the time 
would never come. I've been 
counting the days. Why, you 
both look wonderful!" 

''Thank you. Mom. It's won- 
derful to see you, and you get 
prettier every day." Camille still 
had her arms around her Mother. 

Lisa walked about the living 
room. ''This room never changes. 
Grandma, and I hope that it 
never does. I love everything 
about it." 

Elizabeth smiled at the words 
of her granddaughter. "I'm 
afraid that it is quite old-fash- 
ioned, but I like it. And more 

important to me, it is just as your 
grandfather liked it." 

The evening was spent remin- 
iscing over past days, some happy 
and some sad. All too soon Lisa 
yawned and excused herself. "It 
has been a long drive. Grandma, 
and I worked extra hard at the 
office so that I could leave early 
to drive here. I think that I'll 
turn in. Goodnight, both of you." 
Lisa kissed her mother and then 
her grandmother. 

"You should be extremely 
proud of your daughter, Camille; 
she is a fine, young woman." 
Elizabeth gently touched Cam- 
ille's hand. 

Camille responded in her warm 
way. "I truly am, Mother. She 
has been such a good daughter. I 
only hope that she will be happy 
in her marriage. You must plan 
to come to their wedding. They 
will be married in the temple and 
then have a reception later on 
that evening. I hope that every- 
thing works out. We are trying 
to make some plans, and I must 
admit that I am bewildered al- 

"Now, don't start worrying; 
you know that things will work 
out just fine," EUzabeth reas- 
sured Camille. 

Camille walked to the edge of 
the porch and looked up at the 
stars blinking at her. It seemed 
to Elizabeth that they, too, re- 
sponded to this lovely lady's 

"I know things are going to be 
fine. It is just that the family 
she is marrying into is so socially 
conscious and proper that it 
worries me." 

Elizabeth walked to her daugh- 
ter's side. "Do you remember 
what I always told you when 



you were growing up? Just be 
yourself. People should not ex- 
pect that you be any less or any 
more. I hope that Lisa will re- 
member that." 

Camille's eyes met her moth- 
er's. "I am sure that she will. I 
don't think that this marriage 
will change her, but one never 

"Oh, come now, Camille, you 
don't think that she has changed, 
do you?" Elizabeth questioned. 

Camille suddenly changed the 
subject in her known fashion. "It 
seems like only yesterday that 
she was bom, and, just think, 
Sunday she will be twenty-one 
years old. Where does the time 
go. Mother?" 

"I don't know, Camille. It 
seems only yesterday that you 
were a little girl yourself. I can 
still see you running into the 
house excitedly from school with 
some earth-shaking news to tell 
me, or trying to beat your older 
brothers and sister out of the 
frosting bowl." Elizabeth paused. 
"You see, my dear, this house 
is full of memories. I will be 
standing at the kitchen sink 
doing my dishes, and I can almost 
hear your Father's footsteps 
coming up the walk and his call- 
ing out, 'I'm home; where's my 
family?' " Elizabeth's voice sud- 
denly became choked. It was 
more than she could bear to go 
over the past. It seemed so much 
a part of her present. 

"Let's go in now, Mother. It is 
getting chilly out here." Camille 
sensed her mother's mood and 
took her by the hand. 

In the middle of the night 
when Lisa and Camille were 
asleep, Elizabeth tried to plan 
Lisa's birthday celebration. She 

expecially wanted it to be pleas- 
ant for her granddaughter before 
they had to return to the city. 
They would start out the day 
with Sunday School and return 
home to a birthday dinner. I 
should give her a present, Eliza- 
beth mused, but what could it be? 
I don't have the money to buy 
her anything elaborate, and I do 
so want to give her something 
which she will like. I'll have to 
find something tomorrow. Eliza- 
beth dropped off to sleep. 

"Can't anyone ever get up be- 
fore you do? I thought that you 
would sleep in this morning, 
Lisa." Elizabeth walked down the 
stairs to see her granddaughter 
admiring her dishes in the old 
china closet. 

Lisa turned to her grand- 
mother. "I had such a wonderful 
rest last night, that I couldn't 
stay in bed another minute. 
There is just something about 
this country air." 

Elizabeth made her way to the 
kitchen. "Well, I'll have break- 
fast ready in a moment. I see 
your mother is still a late sleeper. 
I guess that we will have to eat 
without her." 

"May I help you. Grandma?" 
Lisa followed her grandmother 
into the kitchen. 

"No dear, but you can sit 
down and talk to me." 

The early morning light reflec- 
ted upon Lisa's skin, making it 
appear almost transparent. "You 
know. Grandmother, your dishes 
are just beautiful. I'll bet they 
mean a great deal to you." 

"You are right, my dear. Some 
of them belonged to your Great- 
grandmother, and many of them 
were wedding gifts. They are 



beautiful." Elizabeth loved her 
pretty dishes, and she was always 
ready to show them off. 

"I am especially fond of the 
blue crystal vase you have. It is 
so elegant. It is almost too 
beautiful to touch," Lisa praised. 

"Oh, that is my favorite, too, 
Lisa. It belonged to my mother 
and to my grandmother. They 
both guarded it diligently. I was 
so pleased when my mother 
wanted me to have it." 

The rest of the day was spent 
leisurely with mother, daughter, 
and granddaughter going into 
town and meeting old acquaint- 
ances. Elizabeth still couldn't 
find anything that she felt was 
suitable for Lisa. She bought her 
a birthday card with a meaning- 
ful verse; however, none of the 
items that she looked at appealed 
to her. She did so want to give 
Lisa a gift. She would just have 
to find an appropriate present. 

Sunday bloomed bright and 
clear, and Elizabeth arose a few 
minutes earlier. She dressed care- 
fully into her best dress, and 
slipped a cobbler apron over it so 
as not to soil it while she pre- 
pared breakfast. She walked to 
the dresser and gave her hair a 
last-minute touch here and there. 
Silently she went down the stairs. 
Camille and Lisa were still sleep- 
ing. She hoped with all her heart 
that Lisa would like the gift that 
she had chosen for her. Elizabeth 
had qualms about it as she 
wrapped the package beautifully. 
Maybe it wouldn't be good 
enough to put in Lisa's new home. 
I could just give her the card, 
Elizabeth rationalized. Lisa would 
understand her position. 

Elizabeth added the finishing 
touches to the package just in 

time. She could hear Lisa stirring 
in her room. 

"Grandmother, dinner was just 
scrumptious, and Sunday School 
gave me such a good feeling. The 
day has been one I'll always re- 
member." Lisa pushed herself 
away from the table. "I am so 
glad that we decided to come. It 
would have been a lonesome 
birthday with Jack in the East 
and Daddy away also." 

"I hate the week end to come 
to an end, Lisa. You don't know 
what it has meant to me to have 
you and your mother here," 
Elizabeth expressed herself. "Oh, 
I have a little gift for you, my 
dear. I wish that it could be 

Going to the buffet, Elizabeth 
reached inside and brought out 
the package wrapped in different 
shades of rose and handed it to 

Slowly Lisa opened the present 
and then exclaimed. "Oh, Grand- 
ma, the blue crystal vase! I could 
never accept it!" 

Elizabeth felt herself sinking 
inside as she slumped into a chair, 
Lisa had changed after all. She 



didn't want the gift. It was not 
good enough now. When she had 
been a Httle girl, she had always 
been so grateful for the least little 
show of affection. Elizabeth let 
her thoughts run rampant. 

"Mother, you shouldn't have," 
Elizabeth heard Camille saying 
as if she were somewhere in the 

Lisa rose from her chair and 
walked over to Elizabeth, kneel- 
ing before the older woman. 

"Grandma, I couldn't take 
this beautiful possession from 
you. I know how much it is 
treasured by you, and how much 
you hold it dear." 

"Lisa!" Tears appeared in 
Elizabeth's eyes. "I wanted you 
to have it. I know that it won't 
compare with the gifts that you 
will receive at your wedding. . . ." 

"Oh, Grandma, it couldn't be 
compared with the other gifts. It 
will be far superior to them. I 
have always wanted that vase, 
ever since I was a little girl, but I 
never dared hope that it would 
ever be mine. It will have a 

special place on the mantel in 
our new home for all to admire. 
You will see it, too, when you 
come to visit us." 

"Well," Camille said, "how do 
you like that? I have always 
wanted that vase, too." She 
laughed. "But I am thrilled that 
you gave it to Lisa." 

The sharp ring of the tele- 
phone pierced the atmosphere. 

"That must be Jack; he was 
going to call me here at three 
o'clock. I can hardly wait to tell 
him about the vase." 

Camille walked over to the 
table and picked up the vase. 
"Mother, if this vase could only 
talk, it could tell quite a story, 
couldn't it?" 

Elizabeth stood by her daugh- 
ter. "It is telling a story, Camille. 
Why do you think that it appears 
more beautiful as the years go 

Camille held the vase up, and 
it seemed to reflect even more 
brilliantly than before. It did in- 
deed have a story to tell, this 
blue crystal vase. 

Zara Sabin 

Oh, I have been far-traveling 

Unto a foreign land; 
Took pictures of the public squares 

And buildings tall and grand; 
Stood countless hours in galleries, 

Silent at beauty's shrine. 
Storing my heart and brain and 

With color, blend and line. 

I loitered in the little shops 

That dot each thoroughfare 
And fingered linens and fine lace — 

Exquisite and rare; 
Then strolled about the market-place 

And down the avenue, 
Sought signs that told of language 

And thought of home, and you. 

Yes, I have been far-traveling, 
But hope to make it plain 

The best of all the journeying 
Was cominig home again. 


inside and out 


Catherine B. Pratt 
Age eighty-three 

I love my bread and butter life 

Nor would I change it for another. 

I'm just an average sort of wife, 

An ordinary sort of mother. 

I feel that fancy things are vain 

Like caviar on gold-trimmed dishes, 

Contentedly, I find my plain 

Old bread and butter is delicious. 

For me there's no monotony 

Because of one-meal repetition, 

And I look forward gratefully 

To each meal's pleasure and nutrition. 

I know that others yearn for more 

And find my bread and butter meager; 

But, often, all they're looking for 

Leaves them somewhat more bored than eager. 

And I have friends that I love dearly, 

Whose lives are bread and butter, too. 

We share our simple tastes and clearly 

Old-hat, old-fashioned point of view. 

So let those who desire their pheasant 

With its accompanying strife, 

Have all they want. What I find pleasant? 

My little bread and butter life! 

Quantity Cooking 
for Relief Society Functions 

Rosa Shurtz 


4 c. reconstituted dried milk, lukewarm 

1 c. sugar 

4 cakes dried yeast 

4 eggs 

4 tsp. salt 

1 c. cooking oil 

14 c. sifted flour 

Dissolve sugar and yeast In warm milk. When yeast becomes active, add well- 
beaten eggs and enough flour to make a medium batter. Beat well and let set 
until bubbles begin to form. Beat in salt and cooking oil and add rest of flour, 
beating well. When too thick to beat, pour onto floured board and knead until 
smooth and elastic. The secret of this dough is to use only enough flour to be 
able to handle it. It should be as soft as possible, almost sticky. Place in 
greased bowl and cover with damp cloth. Let rise until double in bulk and 
punch down well. Let rise again. Divide dough into easily handled portions 
and let rest about 15 minutes. Pat out on floured board to about V^ inch 
thick. Cut with biscuit cutter. Place close together on greased flat pans. 
Let rise until light. Bake 12 to 20 minutes (depending on size) in 425° 
oven. Brush with melted butter when they come from oven. This dough can 
be shaped into any form desired. The rolls freeze well. 


Add to basic mixture: 
2 tsp. nutmeg 
4 tsp. dried sage 
8 tsp. caraway seeds 

Let rise as in basic recipe, make into loaves. Let rise. Bake at 375° for 
35 minutes. 




After second rising, roll dough into oblongs, spread with some of following 
filling. Roll as for cinnamon rolls. Place some of filling in pan and put rolls 
in cut side down. Let rise. Bake at 375° about 25 minutes. Turn out on 
large tray at once. 


2 c. sugar 

4 tbsp. grated orange rind 

1 c. orange juice and pulp 

1 c. butter 

Cook 2 minutes, cool until thick. 


When mixing basic dough add: 
4 tsp. powdered cardamon 

1 c. chopped citron 

2 c. golden seedless raisins 

Bake in round loaves 350° 30 minutes. 


After second rising of basic dough, turn onto lightly floured board and knead in: 

2 c. slivered almonds 
1 c. cut-up citron 

1 c. candied cherries 

4 tbsp. grated lemon rind 

Pat out dough into ovals 8 by 12 inches. Spread with soft butter. Fold in two, 
the long way. Form into crescents. Press edges firmly, place on greased, 
heavy, baking sheets. Let rise until double. Bake at 375° 30 minutes. Brush 
with melted butter. 

Fruity Filling 

8 c. chopped apples 

4 c. golden seedless raisins 

4 c. brown sugar 

2 tsp. salt 

2 tsp. cinnamon 

Boil one minute and cool. Use to fill tea rings, braids, twists, and kolach. Nuts 
may be added. 


After second rising of basic dough, knead in: 

4 tsp. grated lemon rind 
V^ tsp. mace 

2 c. golden seedless raisins 
2 c. chopped nuts 

Divide dough into equal strips about 14 inches long. Place on greased baking 
sheets about an inch apart and braid loosely, beginning at the middle, working 
toward the ends. Seal ends well. Let rise until double in bulk. Bake at 350° 
about 30 to 35 minutes. Ice with powdered sugar icing while still warm. 


A "Quick" Quilt 
for a Child's Bed 

Min VanBrandwijk 

■ An inexpensive and handy quilt for a child's bed can be made quickly 
from used cotton material and discarded nylon stockings. The quilt can be 
entirely machine sewed. It is warm, but light in weight, and can be machine 
washed. Children find the quilt convenient to take outdoors for use when they 
are sitting on the lawn. It also makes a "cushiony" mat for the floor when 
children are playing or watching television. 

Make 8" x 8" squares from old sheets or other washed cotton material. 
Fold each square from corner to corner to make a triangle. Cut a nylon 
stocking down the back and fold and fit it into each triangle. Stitch the triangle 
by machine along the edges and down the middle. Do not turn in the edges of 
the padded triangle. 

Make a square by stitching four triangles together, lapping the thin edges 
on the machine. You may use a zig-zag stitch or a plain stitch for this. Then 
stitch into strips of as many squares as you need for the desired size of quilt. 
(Five strips of six squares each will make a quilt 40"x48".) 

To cover the quilt, lay flat on the table a piece of new material or used 
material double the size of the desired quilt, with small allowances for turned 
in edges. Lay the padded strips, which have been stitched together into one 
piece, on one half of the covering material. Fold over the other half, and pin 
the edges. Mark a pattern (a series of rectangles in graduating sizes, or any 
design desired) on the quilt and stitch the pattern on the machine, or by hand, 
if preferred. Turn in the edges and finish with stitching. 

The quilt makes an acceptable gift for a baby shower or for a child's 

Bath mats can be made in a similar way, by using toweling for the cover. 
Ties of yarn or colored heavy crochet cotton could be used for attaching the 
cover of the mat, since the toweling might be too heavy to stitch on the 
machine. If preferred, the "quilting" for the mat could be done by hand. 


stocking in lower half 
fold over and stitch 

make 4 of these 
triangles into a square 



make strip of these 
squares to required 
size — all by machine 

Stitch pattern when covered 


Rowena Jensen Bills 

Restlessly I wandered where the mountain 

Skims the sky, 
Heard the echo of my loneliness in 

Soft winds passing by, 
Felt the well-deep crush of heartache 

From a last goodbye, 
Then in the hush of memory I hid 

My face to cry. . . . 

Till silent prayers assuaged my sorrows. 

Comforted me at length. 
And I walked down into tomorrow with 

Renewed and lasting strength! 

ERRATUM: Credits for the Christmas decorative items on pages 917-918 
for December 1965 should go to Marian Johnson, work meeting leader 
of Hillside Stake. 


Get Acquainte 


Elizabeth Williamson 

I If you know of a meadow that is fed by little streams, you are more than 
likely to find watercress growing. You will also find it in the produce section 
of your market, where it comes from farms which grow it commercially. This 
peppery-tasting and many-leaved plant adds zest to salads and hors d'oeuvres. 
It also adds to the nutrition in the diet because it is very rich in minerals, and 
particularly high in vitamins A and C. 

The people of the past, the Persians, Greeks, Romans, and Chinese recog- 
nized this plant as an important part of their diets. They knew that it im- 
proved their health, but they didn't analyze it in terms of vitamins or minerals. 

The Chinese make a delicious soup using watercress. It is a light and ap- 
petizing prelude to a meal. 

Watercress Soup — Chinese Style 

Prepare 1 c. watercress. This is the only time-consuming part of the whole 
process, but well worth it. Wash the watercress thoroughly, take off the leaves, 
save some of the stems if you like, to chop up and sprinkle in a green salad. 
Set aside the leaves in the refrigerator. 

Heat one quart chicken stock and add 2 or 3 ch<)|)i)e(l green onions. While 
the stock is simmering, beat two eggs plus two thsj^. water. Add the egg 
mixture while the chicken stock is boiling. The egg will form in strings (as 
you have seen in Chinese soups in the restaurants). Remove from the fire as 
soon as the egg strings seem firm. Now remove the watercress leaves from the 
refrigerator and chop them. Add the watercress the last minute when you are 
ready to serve. Let the family or guests add their .seasonings to taste. Re- 
member the watercress is quite peppery in flavor. A dash of nutmeg is 
appetizing, also. 


Catherine B. Pratt Finds Many Uses for 
Greeting Cards 

Catherine Billeter Pratt, who was born in Zurich, Switzerland, was brought by 
her parents to Utah in 1884, when she was two years old. She married William 
Parker Pratt, grandson of Parley P. Pratt, and they became the parents of 
fifteen children. There are now forty-four grandchildren, thirty-five great- 
grandchildren, as well as many step-grandchildren and step-great-grandchildren. 

Over the years, Mrs. Pratt has received thousands of beautiful greeting 
cards — for her birthdays, for Christmas, for Valentine's Day, Easter, Mother's 
Day, and other occasions. Finding these cards "too beautiful to throw away," 
Mrs. Pratt has made colorful scrapbooks for children, especially for children's 
hospitals; and she has included greeting cards with special messages in Books 
of Remembrance, in family histories, and in photograph albums. She finds her 
"happy hobby" to be inexpensive, interesting, and important to herself, her 
family, and to her many friends. Her hobby is a way of keeping the time and 
the people and the places that might be lost or forgotten otherwise ... a way 
of/ remembering words of encouragement and friendship to mark the years and 
t)ie seasons of a long and lovely life. 

Mrs. Pratt loves to write and read poetry, and she especially loves the 
poetry which appears in The Relief Society Magazine. She has been a member 
of the Tabernacle Choir and has served many years as a Relief Society visiting 
teacher. "My main hobby is people," she says, "and I believe that if we do 
the best we can, the Lord meets us halfway." 



Helen M, Peterson 

■ ''It is simply impossible to save 
money these days!" I heard one 
young woman tell another, re- 
cently. "Everything costs so 
much!" she said. This mother 
told about giving her children 
modest allowances. Her four- 
year-old received fifty cents a 
week; the three school-age young- 
sters each received one dollar a 
week. I listened to the two young 
mothers discussing the issue, but 
my thoughts drifted back to when 
money was scarce indeed, and the 
only way we could build up a 
"little nest egg" was to save one 
penny at a time. 

It was during the depression 
days. Father's income was very 
meager. Every cent he earned 
was desperately needed to buy 
necessities for everyday living; 
yet mother insisted we must save 
something for a rainy day. A 
day when an emergency might 

arise and we would need avail- 
able cash to meet the situation. 
So it was that we were encour- 
aged to eke out a penny, a nickle, 
or a dime, whenever we could, 
and store it away in a Uttle tin 

Mother let us children take 
turns dropping coins into the 
little tin cup. We kept track of 
the money. Pennies were ex- 
changed for dimes; dimes were 
exchanged for dollars. Slowly, 
but eventually, dollar bills turned 
into fives. 

When emergencies arose — and 
they did as they do in all house- 
holds — the money saved came 
in very handy. Like the time 
Reggie fell and skinned his knee 
coming home from school. Norm- 
ally, Mom would clean the in- 
jured skin — in this case the knee 
— with alcohol, put on a sterile 
dressing, and the wound would 



heal with no compHcations. But 
Reggie's knee didn't heal. In- 
fection set in. The doctor bill, 
plus medications, came to over 
sixty dollars, and we were all 
glad that our nest egg had enough 
money to meet the obligation. 

Mostly the unexpected emer- 
gencies which arose were illnesses 
of some kind, but there were 
times when situations arose 
which called for a family council 
to decide whether or not the 
situation was important enough 
to be considered an emergency, 
and merited taking money from 
"our little nest egg" to meet the 

I remember the day Julie 
came home and said, "Mom, I 
won first in the 'Declam Contest' 
today, and I'm eligible to enter 
the regional contest." There was 
no dissent among the family to 
take needed cash from the tin 
cup to pay for Julie's lunch and 
bus fare, for the contest was 
held in a nearby city and didn't 
cost much. And when Julie won 
the regional and was eligible to 
enter the district contest seventy 
miles distant, all agreed that the 
few dollars needed to cover ex- 
penses could be taken from "the 
nest egg." 

When Julie came home from 
the district contest, wearing the 

blue ribbon, and stating that now 
she was eligible for the state 
contest, we were all very proud 
of her, indeed. Although the 
state contest was being held 300 
miles away, Julie's expenses were 
quite nominal, for contestants 
were given a special rate for 
transportation and lodging. Now, 
there was no question of where 
the money was coming from to 
send Julie to that state contest. 
This was an emergency — and we 
had saved toward it. 

Two days before the planned 
departure for the state contest, 
Julie came home from school in 
tears. She had heard that all 
the other contestants were being 
accompanied by their mothers. 

That was the first time our 
"little nest egg" was emptied to 
meet an emergency other than 
sickness. When Mother and Julie 
returned from the state contest, 
and Julie had won first in the 
declaration contest, we were all 
very proud that we, in a small 
way, had been a part of it. 

Many times, over the years, 
our coffer was emptied, and tem- 
porarily our feeling of security 
would wane, but always we start- 
ed right over again saving our 
pennies so that we'd have a "little 
nest egg^^ to meet an emergency 
which might arise. 


Gladys Hesser Burnham 

Across the miles our handclasp would reach out 
In friendship that has lasted through the years. 
Never for a moment would I doubt 
That I could count on you through joys and tears. 




Kij iiiliiiiliwtjliiin'ffliitiki 

Relief Society Activities 
Directions for Submitting Notes From tlie Field 


The Notes From the Field section of The Relief Society Magazine presents 
through pictures and descriptive paragraphs the varied group activities and 
accomplishments of Relief Society organizations in the stakes and missions 
of the Church. All material for this department should be addressed to the 
Editorial Department of The Relief Society Magazine, and be submitted by 
stake Relief Society presidents or mission supervisors. Due to space restrictions, 
not more than one picture from a stake or mission can be presented during a 
calendar year. Pictures of an individual cannot be used in this department. 

Due to the considerable duplication of some special aspects of Relief So- 
ciety work in the material submitted by stakes and missions, the General Board 
reserves the right to select pictures which represent a variety of interests. 

Time of Submission 

The picture, with complete information, should be submitted as soon after 
the event as possible, but cannot be used in the Magazine if it is received later 
than two months after the event. 

Information to Be Included 

The date of the event should be listed, and the names of Relief Society 
officers and others who have fulfilled special assignments with reference to 
the function or event should be listed. A woman's given name and her last 
name should be used, not her husband's given name (i.e., Ellen Jackson, not 
Sister Fred Jackson). 

In the case of a Singing Mothers group, the names of the chorister and 
the accompanists, as well as stake and ward officers present, should be given. 
Do not list more than fifteen names for any one picture. The identifications 
should read from left to right. No information except the name of the stake 
or mission written lightly so as not to deface the picture should be given on 
the back of the picture. Additional information may be included in the letter 
of submittal or written on a separate page. 

Preparations for Taking Picture 

It is suggested that wherever possible a professional photographer be en- 
gaged to take the picture. In arranging the group to have the picture taken, 
be sure that all the faces are visible. Seat the sisters in short rows, so that 
the faces will be visible. Where handwork or food is displayed, special atten- 
tion in arranging the background will be helpful, as light-colored articles will 
not show up well against a light background. 


Bear River Stake (Utah) Visiting Teachers Honored at 
Joint Convention and Singing Mothers Concert 

March 27, 1965 

Seated, in front: Louise Pugsley, Park Valley; and Marion Arbon, Curlew. 

Standing at the back: Zilla Hess and Jane Hess, Belmont Ward. 

Olive W. Durfey, President, Bear River Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"The Bear River Stake Relief Society honored the visiting teachers at a joint 
convention and Singing Mothers concert March 27, 1965. The program 
started with the reading of an original tribute by Lawonza Wassom. Special 
honors and beautiful corsages were presented to four visiting teachers (as 
pictured above) with the outstanding records of fifty years each, or 200 years 
of faithful service in that capacity. All other visiting teachers of the stake 
were presented with an inscribed ballpoint pen. 

"The lovely musical program 'A Singing Mother Sings' was arranged 
under the leadership of President Durfey and her Counselors Effie Potter and 
Anna Durfey, and music directors Lucretia Rhodes and Rennis Larkin. Jeanine 
Kent was narrator of the spiritual script written by President Durfey. The 
Singing Mothers chorus, composed of singers from each of the nine wards, 
consisted of 125 members. Each number was introduced by an original script. 
A piano solo 'Fantasie Impromptu,' by Chopin, was played by Marilyn Johnson 
during the interlude of the program." 



Holladay Stake (Salt Lake City, Utah), Third Ward Relief Society 

Honors Visiting Teachers at Luncheon Party 

June 2, 1965 

Selma Wall (at left) , eldest visiting teacher, presented with gift by Diane 
F. Emery, youngest visiting teacher. 

Maurine B. Folsom, President, Holladay Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"Visiting teachers of the Holladay Third Ward Relief Society, who had 
achieved a perfect record of visiting all of the homes for the past two years, 
were honored at a luncheon party. The youngest visiting teacher, Diane F. 
Emery, age nineteen, presented a gift to Sister Wall in behalf of the organi- 
zation. More than half of the visiting teachers received special awards because 
they did not miss one month of teaching the entire year." 

Central German Mission, Dusseldorf Branch Displays Quilt 
at Mission Relief Society Conference 

June 17, 1965 

Left to right: Karin Schliewen; Adelheid Fritsch; Grete Kessler; Anna 
Marie Kutschke, President, Central German Mission Relief Society; Emma 
Lange; Ruth W. Benson, Supervisor, Central German Mission Relief Society; 
Elizabeth Priestnitz, President, Dusseldorf Branch Relief Society. 

Sister Kutschke reports: "The spirit of our first Relief Society Mission 
Conference was wonderful, and all returned to their branches with a feeling 
of gratitude for the Priesthood and the blessings of Relief Society, and with 
a greater determination to improve their organizations and help to bring 
others into activity. The theme of the conference was 'Strengthen the ties that 
bind us together.' 

"The Relief Society chorus, under the direction of Christina C. Van 
Hulten, furnished the music for the first session. Martha Otto was honored 
as being the eldest Relief Society sister, having been a member for forty 
years; and Marta Tobeck was honored as the youngest, having been a member 
fourteen days. Many lovely handmade articles were on display, and some were 
demonstrated. The Diisseldorf Branch displayed their first quilt, which was 
also the first one made by Relief Society in the mission. Of interest, also, was 
the style show, with lovely dresses and children's clothing, as well as a great 
variety of aprons. The film 'The Awakening' was shown, and the conference 
ended with a fine spiritual testimony meeting." 

Sister Benson comments: "Last Sunday (Aug. 30) was a great day in 
our mission. We had our first two new buildings dedicated. The sisters are 
thrilled with their new Relief Society rooms." 

French Mission, Riyadh (Saudi Arabia) Branch Relief Society 

Left to right: Linda Bell, social science class leader; Irene Besner, 
theology class leader; Shayla DeMille, President; Carol Warner. 

In a letter giving information regarding this branch of the French Mission, 
President Cecil E. Hart, reports: "We are in regular contact with the group 
through Brother Melvin J. Stanford, branch leader of the group . . . and they 
do come within our . . . guidance." 

Sister Besner, who submitted the picture, tells us that the members of 
the Riyadh Branch are "adding another country to the list which have Relief 
Society organizations. Our group hold our meetings in our own homes." 



Weber Heights Stake (Ogden, Utah), Uintah Ward Relief Society 
Participates In Stake Dressmaking Project 

Picture taken June 24, 1965 

Front row, beginning fourth from the left; ward leaders: Madaline Pringle, 
Secretary-Treasurer; Kathryn Halverson, Work Counselor; Sharon Wright, 
Education Counselor; Marian Stewart, President; Carna Miller, dressmaking 
chairman; Camille Huggins, work meeting leader. Weber Heights stake leaders: 
Hilda Halverson, President; Ruth Jackson, Work Counselor, and Gene Hill- 
yard, work meeting leader. 

Hilda Halverson reports: "Following the December 1964 work meeting 
lesson, "Personal Appearance and Its Influence on Happiness," a stake-wide 
dressmaking project was launched. All nine of the Relief Societies in our 
stake participated in this dressmaking project with enthusiasm. Forty-two 
sisters in the Uintah Ward made dresses, and, although this was not the 
largest number of dresses made in a ward, it was the greatest percentage of 
Relief Society members, because Uintah is the smallest ward in our stake. 

"The purpose of the project was to insure that the sisters became ac- 
quainted with the rudiments of basic sewing, and to add a new, attractive 
dress to each sister's wardrobe. Dresses were worn and modeled in the April 
work meetings." 

Santa Rosa Stake (California), Greenbrae-San Rafael Singing Mothers 

Present Concert 
May 7, 1965 

Standing, front, left: Joan Smith, chorister, Greenbrae Ward; right: Pa- 
tricia Russell, pianist, San Rafael Ward. 

Beulah C. Gwynn, President, Santa Rosa Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"This group of thirty Singing Mothers from our two southern wards presented 
a concert on May 7th for the members and friends of the Santa Rosa Stake. 
These sisters were highly trained, having practiced for many months as well 
as daily for two weeks before the concert. The program consisted of fifteen 
numbers by the Singing Mothers and violin and piano solos by guest artists 
Polly Estes Holbrook and Juanita Cunningham, nonmembers of the Church. 

"These sisters also sang for our May open-house event, and for the stake 
quarterly conference." 

Alameda Stake (Pocatello, Idaho), Seventeenth Ward Visiting Teachers 

Achieve Ten Years of 100 Per Cent Visiting Teaching 

June 1, 1965 

Left to right: Front row, Delia Packer; Crilla Williams; Tura Hadley; 
Nola Duerdon; Florist Dawson; Mavis Kirkman; Betty Karlson. 

Second row, Johanna Fowler; Jean Burpee; Mary Redington; Delia 
JoUey; Ella Mae Hunter; Almira Allen; Lucille Weight; Vera Chatterton. 

Third row, Hazel Ranstrom; Luella Hansen; Margaret Satterfield; Lena 
Bauer; Wilma Anderson; Vera Prouse; Mary Evans; Stella Price. 

Back row, Abbie Rawlins; Anna Ranstrom; Merna Rady; Florence Lar- 
sen; Vida Merrill; Juanita Fiala; Helen Evans; Louise Perkins; Beth Bloxham; 
Frances Walters. 

Wilma Myers, President, Alameda Stake Relief Society, reports: "The 
visiting teachers of the Seventeenth Ward have achieved a 100 per cent record 
through ten years. Many of these sisters have completed the ten years. On 
June 1, 1965, the visiting teachers were honored, and each was presented a 
picture in appreciation of the wonderful work they have completed and are 
now doing." 


n r O T/ ^^ ^ ^ "^r^ a ^ n r^ 

^ ^S^ ^h->\ ^ffe^l: ''l}-^ '^feiii' 'V 1^ 


Highland Stake (Salt Lake City, Utah) Crystal Heights Ward 
Visiting Teachers Honored at Closing Social 

June 2, 1965 

Left to right: Adeline Dunn; Beatrice Cobb; Mary Cottrell; Carol John- 
son, President, Crystal Heights Ward Relief Society. 

Eva A. Sipkema, President, Highland Stake Relief Society, reports: "The 
highlight of the closing social of the Crystal Heights Ward was the special 
recognition given to the visiting teachers who had served the most years. Sister 
Dunn had served forty-seven years, and Sister Cobb had served forty-three 
years. They were each presented a Relief Society pin. Sister Cottrell had 
served sixty-one years and was given a lovely piece of jewelry. Sister Cottrell 
had been honored previously by Highland Stake Relief Society as the visiting 
teacher who had given the most years of service in the stake. At that time 
she was presented with a lovely Relief Society necklace. She has recently 
celebrated her eightieth birthday, but still visits her district faithfully each 

Atlanta Stake (Georgia) Singing Mothers Present Music for Stake 

Quarterly Conference 
May 30. 1965 

Seated, front, right: Jane Turvairlle, chorister, who trained and conducted 
the group; seated on the bench, next to Sister Turvairlle: Patricia Googe, 
organist; second row, second from the left: First Counselor Verna Uivens; 
third row, fourth from the left: Barbara Blake, Magazine representative; 
eighth from the left on the same row: Dorothy Robinson, Secretary-Treasurer. 

Stake Relief Society President is Joyce P. Selin, Former President Gladys 
C. Garner submitted the picture. 

Rarotonga Mission (Cook Islands) Relief Society Holds Bazaar 

May 15, 1965 

Left to right: Inez S. Moody, Supervisor, Rarotonga Mission Relief 
Society; Ngametua Papera, President, Avarua Branch Relief Society; Araia 
Mateara, President, Arorangi Branch; Lucile R. Jones, President, Rarotonga 
Mission Relief Society; Pauline Mitchell, First Counselor, Avarua Branch; 
Ngametua Tuaputa, First Counselor, Arorangi Branch; Pativai Mataio, work 
meeting leader. 

Sister Jones reports: "Our mission is in its infancy, just five years old. 
We are very happy with the results of our mission bazaar, and with the won- 
derful way our sisters rallied to make it such a success. Five branches, repre- 
senting three islands, united to make this possible: Rarotonga (Avarua, 
Ngatangiia, and Arorangi Branches), Aitutaki, and Mangaia. 

"A wide assortment of articles was attractively displayed, including quilts, 
feather fans, mats, children's clothing, cushions, aprons, native baskets, brooms, 
and assorted foods. The bazaar was a complete sell-out, and we collected 
approximately $280, which was excellent for our mission. Almost all of the 
proceeds were eagerly turned over for the beautiful new Arorangi chapel, 
which has just been completed. Everyone was delighted with the success of 
the bazaar, and a spirit of true sisterhood prevailed." 


Lesson Department 

Elder Roy W. Doxey 

Lesson 71 — The Word of Wisdom — A Life-Giving Revelation 

(Text: Doctrine and Covenants, Section 89:4-21) 

For First Meeting, April 1966 

In the Southern Hemisphere, for September 1966 

Objective: To recognize the prophetic element in the Word of Wisdom, 
understand its positive teachings and appreciate the spiritual 
blessings available to the individual who keeps the com- 
mandments therein. 


Section 89, known as the Word 
of Wisdom, was received in 1833 
as a revelation from God. The 
Lord gave his people counsel in 
this revelation that they might 
not be deceived by the adversary. 
It has been demonstrated by 
science that alcohol, tobacco, tea, 
and coffee are not good for man, 
as stated by the Lord. The Word 
of Wisdom is prophetic in re- 
vealing that "conspiring men" 
will seek to deceive mankind. The 
literal fulfillment of this prophecy 
further confirms Joseph Smith as 
a prophet of the Lord. 


In order to prevent the Latter- 
day Saints from being deceived, 
the Lord forewarned them against 
the wiles of men. Specifically 
given in the revelation on the 

Word of Wisdom is the following 
prophecy of the last days: 

Behold, verily, thus saith the Lord 
unto you: In consequence of evils and 
designs which do and will exist in the 
hearts of conspiring men in the last 
days, I have warned you, and fore- 
warn you, by giving unto you this 
word of wisdom by revelation (D&C 

President David O. McKay 
describes some of the methods 
that are used to deceive man- 

"Evils and designs which do and 
will exist in the hearts of conspiring 
men " The purport of that im- 
pressed me in the twenties and the 
thirties of this century. I just ask you 
men tonight to recaJl the methods 
employed by certain tobacco interests 
to induce women to smoke cigarettes. 

You remember how insidiously 
they launched their plan. First, by 



saying that it would reduce weight. 
They had a slogan: "Take a cigarette 
instead of a sweet." 

Later, some of us who like the 
theatre, noticed that they would have 
a young lady light the gentleman's 
cigarette. Following this a woman's 
hand would be shown on billboards 
lighting or taking a cigarette. A year 
or two passed and soon they were 
brazen enough to show the lady on the 
screen or on the billboard smoking a 

I find here a clipping which I set 
aside in the early thirties, which 
corroborates this idea. This is 1931: 

"It is well known that the cigarette 
manufacturers are after the young 
women and girls, now. They say there 
are twenty-five million of these in the 
United States, and if they can popu- 
larize smoking among them, they will 
be able to increase their sales from 
three billion, six hundred million 
dollars annually to six billion dollars. 
This is their claim and their aim." 

Now, it is common to see beautiful 
young women depicted on billboards, 
and in the popular journals advertis- 
ing certain brands of cigarettes. "Last 
year three of the large cigarette 
manufacturers, we are informed, spent 
fifty-four million dollars in advertis- 
ing their wares. This is probably a 
greater outlay than has ever before 
been spent to popularize smy kind of 
merchandise. . . ." 

I may be wrong, but I thought I 
saw an indication recently that con- 
spiring men now have evil designs 
upon our youth. Keep your eyes and 
ears open, to observe if they are not 
taking the same steps now to get our 
young men as they did to entice 
women to use that vile weed (Confer- 
ence Report, October 1948, pp. 185- 


In the Word of Wisdom the 
Lord said this about tobacco: 

And again, tobacco is not for the 
body, neither for the belly, and is not 
good for man, but is an herb for 

bruises and all sick cattle, to be used 
with judgment and skill (D&C 89:8). 

That tobacco is not good for 
man has been demonstrated in 
many ways both in the laboratory 
and in the Hves of individuals. 

Since much publicity has been 
given to the high incidence of 
lung cancer to cigarette smoking, 
a controversy has raged between 
the tobacco industry and public 
agencies over the cause of lung 
cancer. Studies, however, have 
disclosed that the risk of lung 
cancer is greatly increased by 
cigarette smoking. 


In the Word of Wisdom the 
Lord condemns the use of alcohol, 
as follows: 

That inasmuch as any man drinketh 
wine or strong drink among you, be- 
hold it is not good, neither meet in 
the sight of your Father, only in 
assembling yourselves together to 
offer up your sacraments before him. 

And, behold, this should be wine, 
yea, pure wine of the grape of the 
vine, of your own make (D&C 89:5-6). 

In an earlier revelation, the 
Lord instructed the Prophet 
Joseph Smith by an angel that 
wine was unnecessary in the 
sacrament, but any liquid could 
be used as long as it was done 
with an eye single to the glory of 
God. {Ibid., 27:2-4.) Water is 
used as a sacramental emblem 
today in the Church. 

From the beginning of this dis- 
pensation to the present, drunk- 
enness and the use of alcohol, ex- 
cept for medicinal purposes, have 
been condemned by the prophets. 

An impressive thought in con- 
nection with the Word of Wis- 
dom and moderate drinking is 
given by President McKay in 
these words: 



... I am glad when I study this 
passage, to find that the Lord did not 
say, "Strong drink to excess is not 
good;" nor "Drunkenness is not good." 
Suppose he had weakened that ex- 
pression by modifying it and saying, 
"Strong drink in excess, or when 
taken in large quantities, is not good," 
how soon we should have justified our- 
selves that a little drink is good. But 
like other eternal truths it stands un- 
. qualified; "strong drink is not good" 
(Conference Report, April 1911, page 

Parents who, even though ob- 
serving the Word of Wisdom 
themselves, serve alcoholic bever- 
ages to guests in their homes, are 
subjecting their children to in- 
fluences which adversely affect 
their attitudes. We are reminded 
of the counsel of President 
George Albert Smith not to step 
over into the deviFs territory. 


The Word of Wisdom does not 
use the words tea and coffee, yet 
Latter-day Saints have been in- 
structed that "hot drinks" used 
in verse 9 of section 89, refers to 
these beverages. Hyrum Smith, 
the brother of the Prophet, in a 
sermon of May 29, 1842, made 
such a definition. 

. . . And again, "hot drinks are not 
for the body, or belly;" there are 
many who wonder what this can 
mean; whether it refers to tea or 
coffee, or not. I say it does refer to 
tea, and coffee (Times and Seasons, 
Vol. Ill, page 800). 

President Brigham Young on 
October 30, 1870 said: 

. : . I have heard it argued that tea 
and coffee are not mentioned therein; 
that is very true; but what were the 
people in the habit of taking as hot 
drinks when that revelation was given? 
Tea and coffee. We were not in the 
habit of drinking water very hot, but 
tea and coffee — the beverages in 
common use (Journal of Discourses 


In addition to specifjdng cer- 
tain harmful products that man 
should not partake of, the revela- 
tion advises the use of grains, 
vegetables, fruits, and meat 
sparingly. It also mentions cer- 
tain grains for the use of animals. 
These are known as the positive 
aspects of the Word of Wisdom. 
In these words, we find counsel: 

And again, verily I say unto you, 
all wholesome herbs God hath or- 
dained for the constitution, nature, 
and use of man — 

Every herb in the season thereof, 
and every fruit in the season thereof; 
all these to be used with prudence and 
thanksgiving (D&C 89:10-11). 

It has been pointed out that 
"wholesome herbs" as used in 
Joseph Smith's day meant all 
plants and vegetables. 


Some few readers of the Word 
of Wisdom assume that because 
herbs and fruits should be eaten 
"in the season thereof" modem 
methods of food preservation are 
disapproved. It is true that fruits 
should be eaten when ripe and 
vegetables when mature to obtain 
the most nutrition from them, 
but it is neither logical nor scien- 
tific to maintain that they should 
not be used at a time when they 
are not available in the fresh 
state if they are properly pre- 


Yea, flesh also of beasts and of the 
fowls of the air, I, the Lord, have or- 
dained for the use of man with thanks- 
giving; nevertheless they are to be 
used sparingly; 

And it is pleasing unto me that they 
should not be used, only in times of 
winter, or of cold, or famine. 



All grain is ordained for the use of 
man and of beasts, to be the staff of 
life, not only for man but for the 
beasts of the field, and the fowls of 
heaven, and all wild animals that run 
or creep on the earth; 

And these hath God made for the 
use of man only in times of famine 
and excess of hunger (D&C 89:12-15). 

Two years before this revela- 
tion was received the Lord said to 
forbid meat on religious grounds 
was not of him. Moreover, beasts 
and fowls were provided for man's 
food and raiment, but man was 
not to waste animal life by 
wanton killing. (Ibid.y 49:18-21.) 


Wheat is not the only grain for 
man, but it is the best, according 
to the Word of Wisdom. 

All grain is good for the food of 
man; as also the fruit of the vine; that 
which yieldeth fruit, whether in the 
ground or above the ground — Never- 
theless, wheat for man. . . (D&C 89: 

Wheat has long been recog- 
nized by man as a good food, and 
nutritional science has found that 
this grain will promote bodily 
strength, greater resistance a- 
gainst infections, freedom from 
many deficiency and degenerative 
diseases, and endurance. 


Section 89 recommends that 
certain grains are of greater value 
to some animals than to others. 

. . . and corn for the ox, and oats for 
the horse, and rye for the fowls and 
for swine, and for all beasts of the 
field, and barley for all useful ani- 
mals, and for mild drinks, as also 
other grain (D&C 89:17). 


The saints who remember to 
keep the commandments, includ- 

ing the Word of Wisdom, are 
promised that they will receive 
health in their navel and marrow 
to their bones. (D&C 89:18.) 

The two expressions, "health 
in their navel and marrow to their 
bones," are meaningful in the 
light of present-day knowledge. 
The unborn baby is nourished 
and may also be poisoned 
through the navel or umbilicus. 
Bone marrow manufactures the 
various blood cells needed for 


There have been some who 
have thought that by obediently 
living the Word of Wisdom the 
blessings promised in that revel- 
ation would come. It is true that 
if one lives a law, such as a 
health law, the benefits of fulfil- 
ling that law will be realized. On 
the other hand, the Latter-day 
Saint who lives the Word of 
Wisdom cannot expect to receive 
all of the promised blessings — 
hidden treasures of knowledge, 
wisdom, spirituality, and the de- 
stroying angel to pass them by 
— if he does not abide the other 
commandments. (D&C 89:18.) 

The Prophet Joseph Smith 
taught that though an individual 
fulfill one commandment and 
neglect others he will not receive 

I . . . spoke to the people, showing 
them that to get salvation we must not 
only do some things, but everything 
which God has commanded. ... It 
mattereth not whether the principle 
is popular or unpopular, I will always 
maintain a true principle, even if 
I stand alone in it {DHC VI: 223). 

One of the distressing facts 
about breaking the Word of 
Wisdom by smoking and drink- 
ing alcoholic beverages, is the 



effect it has on the individual, 
the home, and society. The First 
Presidency (President Heber J. 
Grant, J. Reuben Clark, Jr., 
David 0. McKay) in their mes- 
sage of October 1942, made the 
following accusations against 

Drink brings cruelty into the home; 
it walks arm in arm with poverty; 
its companions are disease and plague; 
it puts chEistity to flight; and it knows 
neither honesty nor fair dealing; it 
is a total stranger to truth; it drowns 
conscience; it is the bodyguard of evil; 
it curses all who touch it. 

Drink has brought more woe and 
misery, broken more hearts, wrecked 
more homes, conunitted more crimes, 
filled more coffins, than all the wars 
the world has suffered (Conference 
Report, October 1942, page 8.) 

President Grant drew atten- 
tion to the consequences of 
young people breaking the Word 
of Wisdom, and then showed how 
frequently this kind of disobedi- 
ence leads to far more serious sin. 

... I want it understood — that the 
use of liquor and tobacco is one of the 
chief means in the hands of the adver- 
sary whereby he is enabled to lead 
boys and girls from virtue. 

Nearly always those who lose their 
virtue, first partake of those things 
that excite passions within them or 
lower their resistance and becloud 
their minds. Partaking of tobacco and 
liquor is calculated to make them a 
prey to those things which, if indul- 
ged in, are worse than death itself 
(Gospel Standards, page 55). 

Elder Mark E. Petersen of the 
Council of the Twelve also 
pointed out the destructive influ- 
ence of the cigarette in the life 
of the member of the Church. He 
declared that there is the feeling 
of uncomfortableness in being 

with people who don't smoke, so 
the smoker finds other people 
than those at Church with whom 
to associate. Since smoking is 
against one of the command- 
ments and the smoker doesn't 
like to hear about the Word of 
Wisdom, he begins staying away 
from his Church meetings. These 
things lead to forgetting about 
praying and paying tithing. 
When the time comes to choose 
a life's companion the chances 
are that it will be someone in the 
smoking crowd. In other words, 
the cigarette has helped select 
the marriage partner. When the 
children arrive in the home, it is 
not likely that they will be 
taught to pray, go to Church, pay 
tithing, etc., because the parents 
are indifferent to these oppor- 
tunities. (Conference Report, 
April 1948, pp. 152-56.) 

Disobedience to the com- 
mandments brings loss of the 
Holy Ghost, and the living of the 
commandments gives one that 
Spirit with all of its blessings 
against being deceived. 


The Holy Ghost and the gifts 
which come from that Spirit will 
enlighten and give knowledge, 
protection, wisdom, peace and 
joy. These are some of the 
promised blessings of keeping the 
commandments. Here is what 
the Lord said: 

And shall find wisdom and great 
treasures of knowledge, even hidden 
treasures; and shall run and not be 
weary, and shall walk and not faint 
(D&C 89:19-20). 

What is the greatest treasure 
that one may have in this life to 
assist him on the road to exalta- 
tion? Knowledge that saves! 



(Ibid., 131:6; 130:18-19.) In 
addition to knowing the prin- 
ciples of salvation, there is the 
important "hidden treasure" of 
knowing by the Holy Ghost that 
God lives, Jesus Christ is the 
Savior, that Joseph Smith is 
God^s Prophet, and his successors 
are also holders of the keys of the 

Finally, the Lord promises 
that the destroying angel shall 
pass by the saints and not slay 
them, as he promised ancient 
Israel. (D&C 89:21; Exodus 12: 
12-13, 29-30.) This promise does 
not mean that death will not 
come to the obedient. It is in 
the eternal plan that death comes 
to all. However, death may be 
bitter or sweet. (D&C 42:45-47.) 
He who has walked in obedience 
to the commandments shall re- 
ceive the blessings of the angel 
of life — peace, mercy, hope, love, 
and to open the door of light and 
eternal life with its everlasting 
joys. (Conference Report, April 
1925, pp. 61-62.) 

The First Presidency in 1943 

with reference to the Word of 
Wisdom, wrote: 

This declares the divine wisdom. It 
is God's law of health, and is binding 
upon each and everyone of us. We 
cannot escape its operation for it is 
based upon eternal truth. Men may 
agree or disagree about this word of 
the Lord; if they agree, it adds noth- 
ing; if they disagree, it means noth- 
ing. Beyond His word we cannot reach, 
and it is enough for every Latter-day 
Saint, willing and trying to follow 
divine guidance ("Message of the 
First Presidency," October 3, 1943). 


1. Why do you think the Lord said 
all of the blessings promised in the 
Word of Wisdom revelation would 
come to those who live all the com- 
mandments and not only the health 
laws of that revelation? 

2. Indicate the harmful results of 
drinking intoxicating beverages even 
in moderation. 

3. According to Elder Mark E. 
Petersen, what effect may cigarette 
smoking have upon a Latter-day 

4. What is meant by the promise 
of hidden treasures? 

5. What spiritual benefits are 
derived from keeping the Word of 

6. Discuss: A person's belief does 
not alter the truth of a revelation. 


Truths to Live By From the Doctrine and Covenants 

Christine H. Robinson 

Message 71 — "For What Doth It Profit a Man If a Gift Is Bestowed 
Upon Him, and He Receive Not the Gift?" (D&C 88:33) 

For First Meeting, April 1966 
In the Southern Hemisphere, for September 1966 

Objective: To illustrate the fact that God's gifts are ours only if we 
accept and magnify them. 

Each of us is endowed with heaven. These gifts are given to 
certain gifts from our Father in us individually and personally so 



that we may, if we receive and 
magnify them, reach to greater 
heights in the development of our 
personahties, our characters, and 

The Lord tells us in the Doc- 
trine and Covenants, *'. . . to 
every man is given a gift by the 
spirit of God. To some is given 
one, and to some is given 
another, that all may be pro- 
fited thereby" (D&C 46:11-12). 
Whether or not we enjoy these 
gifts and thus reach the heights 
the Lord expects of us depends 
upon our willingness and worthi- 
ness to accept them. "For what 
doth it profit a man if a gift is 
bestowed upon him, and he re- 
ceive not the gift?" 

We must remember that these 
gifts are from a loving Father in 
heaven who wants us to be happy 
and to succeed in life. Yet, they 
are given to us on the promise 
that they will be ours only if we 
accept and magnify them. If we 
fail to receive and develop 
them in the way that we 
should, they will be taken away 
from us. The Prophet Joseph 
Smith said: 

Blessings offered, but rejected, are 
no longer blessings . . . the proffered 
good returns to the giver; the blessing 
is bestowed on those who will receive 
and occupy; for unto him that hath 
shall be given, and he shall have 
abundantly, but unto him that hath 
not or will not receive, shall be taken 
away that which he hath, or might 
have had {DHC V:135). 

How can we develop most 
effectively the gifts that have 
been bestowed upon us? Cer- 
tainly, one approach would be for 
us to recognize the gifts, or poten- 
tials, that lie within us, desire to 
develop them, have the faith that 
we can develop them, and then go 
about confidently practicing and 


applying the actions which will 
magnify and develop them. The 
apostle Paul said "Neglect not 
the gift that is in thee . . . give 
thyself wholly to them; that thy 
profiting may appear to all" (I 
Tim. 4:14, 15). 

We often refer to the wisdom 
of Solomon. Undoubtedly in so 
doing, we may wish that we might 
possess this great wisdom. If we 
really desire to develop the gift 
of wisdom, we must practice 
those qualities which will help us 
to become wise. For example, be- 
fore we make any important de- 
cisions in respect to any problem, 
we should get all possible facts 
and then make sure we evaluate. 
If we desire the great gift of 
knowledge we must be willing to 
study and yearn for learning. If 
we desire to develop the wondrous 
gift of faith, this can be obtained 
only if we practice believing and 
following the Lord's command- 

We have been admonished 
to seek ". . . earnestly the 
best gifts, always remembering 
for what they are given; For 
verily I say unto you, they are 
given for the benefit of those who 
love me and keep all my com- 
mandments" (D&C 46:8, 9). 

A young man was overheard 
complaining that he had no tal- 
ents and implying that when God 
had distributed gifts, he had been 
passed by. This young man, in 
fact, seemed proud of his modesty 
and apparent humility in recog- 
nizing his own inadequacies. 
Actually, this young man pos- 
sessed a substantial potential 
which he was wasting by his nega- 
tive attitude toward himself and 
by refusing to recognize his in- 
herent capabilities. In an effort 
to help him, a wise counselor 


suggested that he select one 
simple gift which he definitely 
possessed. This was a special 
ability to be friendly. He was en- 
couraged to appreciate and to 
exercise faith in this one gift, and 
then earnestly work to magnify 
it. In so doing, he soon found he 
had other gifts which had been 
lying dormant. By concentrating 
on each gift and seeking to mag- 
nify it, he succeeded in raising 
all of his talents and abilities to 
a higher level of performance. 

Someone has observed that 
when we develop one trait fully, 
there is a tendency for that one 
trait to pull all the others up to 
its stature. President Joseph F. 
Smith has said, "Every son and 

every daughter of God has re- 
ceived some talent [or gift] , and 
each will be held to strict account 
for the use or misuse to which it 
is put" (Juvenile Instructor, Vol. 
38, 1903, page 689). 

The Lord has many gifts for 
each of us if we have the faith, 
courage, will power, and fortitude 
to work for them. The Lord can 
and wants to give them to us, 
but they can become ours only if 
we accept and use them. 'Tor 
what doth it profit a man if a 
gift is bestowed upon him, and 
he receive not the gift? Behold, 
he rejoices not in that which is 
given unto him, neither rejoices 
in him who is the giver of the 

WORK MEETING — Development Through 
Homemaking Education 

Hazel S. Cannon 

Cleanliness Is Next to Godliness (A Continuation) 

For Second Meeting, April 1966 

In the Southern Hemisphere, for September 1966 

Objective: To show how scheduling of cleaning activities in the home 
can result in efficient accomplishment of work and in great 
family happiness. 


You will recall that in Lewis 
Carroll's delightful story, Alice in 
Wonderland, Alice and the queen 
had been ''running like mad all 
day." Suddenly Alice discovered 
that they were still under the 
same tree from which they had 
started, and expressed her sur- 

prise and consternation to the 
queen. The queen explained that 
in her country to "get any place" 
it was necessary to run "twice as 

With our cleaning tasks in 
mind, as creative homemakers, 
we need to analyze our manage- 
ment practices in order that we 



may keep from "running twice as 
fast" to "get any place." 


In the previous discussion on 
cleaning-management, planning 
and the merits of scheduling were 
stressed. It is important to for- 
mulate the details of a schedule. 
In what ways would re-schedul- 
ing or a new approach to an old 
task mean greater efficiency? Too 
meticulous or laborious methods 
should be shunned. Much of the 
homemaker's time is consumed 
in child care. Some must be re- 
served for rest, especially for 
mothers with young families; for 
unexpected guests; for interrup- 
tions; and for some family fun 
that has not been planned. You 
might work a schedule in this 

Daily Schedule — "Pick-up" in 
various rooms of house; prepare and 
serve meals; wash dishes and care for 
work surfaces of kitchen cupboards 
and large equipment; sweep and dust 
kitchen and other rooms which re- 
quire it; make beds; clean bathroom 
fixtures. A wise mother will train her 
family early to accept their responsi- 
bilities in maintaining a clean home. 

In addition to what must be done 
daily, time should be scheduled to take 
care of washing, ironing, sewing and 
mending, baking, and other necessary 
tasks, which the individual home- 
maker alone can determine. 

Weekly Schedule — This would con- 
sist of a plan for thorough cleaning 
of each room of the house. Change 
bed linens; clean all floors thoroughly, 
including deep vacuuming of rugs and 
carpets and washing and waxing of 
floors where necessary; move furni- 
ture and clean underneath, with the 
exception of very heavy pieces; give 
furniture special attention as to 
vacuvuning over-stuffed pieces, clean- 
ing, dusting etc.; dust difficult areas 
such as moldings, baseboards and wall 
and ceiling areas where necessary; 
remove finger marks from doors, 
frames, and light switches; give kit- 
chen range and refrigerator extra 

cleaning; take special care of plants. 
These jobs may be done on a par- 
ticular day — or many homemakers 
prefer thoroughly to clean one room 
each day along with the daily sched- 
ule, rather than leaving it all for, say, 
Friday. It is felt that much satisfaction 
results from leaving Saturday for food 
shopping, food preparation for Sun- 
day, and for family activities instead 
of reserving it for a weekly cleaning 

Monthly and /or Quarterly Schedule 
(depending on family set-up) — This 
schedule would include extra thorough 
cleaning such as washing windows; 
cleaning of over-stuffed furniture and 
cleaning and polishing of wood pieces; 
vacuuming draperies and /or washing 
and ironing curtains; cleaning cup- 
boards and drawers; cleaning and wax- 
ing certain floors; special cleaning of 
accessories (especially lamps and 
light bulbs and light fixtures, bric-a- 
brac, and pictures; and other neces- 
sary cleaning not included in the 
weekly schedule. These tasks are 
added to the weekly schedule as 
needed and as they can be included. 
Some homemakers like to clean or 
straighten a kitchen cupboard or 
drawer each morning as they wash the 
breakfast dishes. 

Semi-Annual Schedule — ^This is the 
deep, extra special cleaning of every- 
thing from basement to attic so 
familiar to the housekeeper. Again, 
many women prefer to do it "by the 
inch," and clean one room per month 
rather than devoting a period of time 
each spring and fall to the "orgy" 
known as housecleaning. 

To Discuss: 

Case Study 1. It is Saturday morn- 
ing and the entire Price family is at 
home. Mrs. Price rises at seven o'clock. 
She prepares breakfast for herself 
and her husband, and they eat at 
about seven-thirty. She puts the dishes 
in the sink, returns to her bedroom, 
"picks-up," and makes the bed. By 
this time Timmy, age six, is in the 
kitchen shouting, "Mommy, I'm him- 
gry. May I have pancakes for break- 
fast?" She makes the pancakes and 
serves them to Timmy. It is now eight- 
ten and she begins making the apple 
pies for the ward dinner that evening. 



Just as she is rolling out the pie 
dough, Mary, seventeen, enters the 
kitchen and says she guesses she can't 
eat because she must be at work at 
eight-thirty. Mrs. Price fixes her a 
glass of orange juice, which Mary 
drinks under protest. Just then twelve- 
year-old Ricky bounces in and re- 
minds his mother that he must be at 
his scoutmaster's at nine o'clock and 
hopes that Timmy hasn't eaten all the 
pancakes. Mrs. Price hurriedly cooks 
pancakes for Ricky. Two more late 
risers come straggling in for breakfast 
between nine and ten. At eleven o'- 
clock the pies are in the oven, Mrs. 
Price has been called to the telephone 
three times about the ward dinner, and 
the dishes are still in the sink. She 
sinks wearily into a chair and then 
suddenly remembers that Carole is 
still upstairs, hasn't eaten breakfast, 
and was to have been at a Primary 
practice at ten-thirty. 

How might Mrs. Price have avoided 
her present dilemma? In what ways 
could scheduling have helped? 

Case Study 2. The glass storm door 
on the front door of the Brown resi- 
dence is always finger-marked and 
soiled. Mrs. Brown is a busy home- 
maker with a family of five lovely 
children, but maintains a clean, order- 
ly living room. How might callers in- 
terpret the dirty storm door? How 
could care of the storm door become 
part of the cleaning schedule? 


Today the home is considered 
a small industry and the home- 
maker is its production engineer. 
You will, therefore, want (at 
least to begin with) to block your 
schedule out on a calendar or a 
homemade time sheet, allowing 
so much time for the breakfast 
dishes, dusting the living room, 
etc. This is especially important 
for routine jobs which must be re- 
peated each day. Women who 
work outside their homes should 
find a schedule very helpful in 
accomplishing their home respon- 
sibilities in the limited time at 
their disposal. 


1. In •, scheduling, retain the values 
that are important to your family. A 
husband should leave for work each 
morning with new courage to face 
the world, not feeling that he is being 
pitted against the time schedule. 

2. Do not attempt too much work 
at one given time. Every hour should 
have some leeway. 

3. Train each family member to 
"clean-up" and "pick-up" after him- 

4. Keep dirt and soil at a minimum 
always, (a) Sweep walks and porches 
often; (b) provide door mats outside 
doors and protective throw rugs inside 
doors; (c) protect floor and surfaces 
when a cleaning or cooking activity 
will result in splashing or spotting. It 
is easier to avoid unnessary work than 
to schedule a "clean-up." 

5. Restrict eating to certain rooms 
or areas. Train children to be seated 
while eating. Do not allow them to 
"eat on foot." 

6. Try to leave the house "picked- 
up" each time you go away and before 
going to bed at night. 

7. Someone remarked, "Any man 
who has lived through housecleaning 
knows why hurricanes are given femi- 
nine names." Try to maintain some 
straight orderly rooms or areas during 
housecleaning time. 


No matter how thoughtfully a 
schedule is planned, there are 
times when it cannot be fully ex- 
ecuted. Be sure that you always 
master the schedule and that it 
does not become your master. 
Make it work for you. In spite of 
the unforeseen, however, schedul- 
ing will give you the opportunity 
to control the physical aspects of 
your home, to create beauty, and 
to conquer inefficiency and dis- 


1. Discuss scheduling, assign- 
ments, and problems during your 
family home evening council 


Alberta H. Christensen 

Lesson 4 (Lesson 16 in Series) — "Seek And Ye Shall Find" 

For Third Meeting, April 1966 
In the Southern Hemisphere, for June 1966 

Objective: To emphasize our responsibility to prepare a personal 
record of our ancestors, and to motivate women of 
Relief Society to discover for themselves the many 
satisfactions of genealogical research. 

Follow-up on Home-Doing suggestions for Lesson 3 "Personal Standards." 
Lesson 4 on preparing a personal genealogical record logically follows Lesson 3. 


"Why didn't grandmother tell 
us where her father was bom and 
where he died? Or even better, 
why didn't she leave us a written 

Such questions, frequently 
asked by present-day Latter-day 
Saints, lead us into one area of 
what the Doctrine and Covenants 
states is the "most glorious of all 
subjects belonging to the ever- 
lasting gospel, namely, the bap- 
tism for the dead" (D&C 128: 

Very hkely this anonymous 
grandmother knew where her 
father was born, and had she 
known how important this infor- 
mation would be to descendants, 
she would have left a written 

The element of adventure has 
always been an inviting factor in 
the search for truth, for new 
knowledge. Whether the search 
be confined to earth, or extended 
to a stellar space, men have 
risked their lives in the adven- 
turous search for the unknown. 

The Savior often spoke in parable 
of the value of the search and the 
joy of finding — the search for the 
lost coin; the search for the one 
lost sheep, though the ninety and 
nine were safe within the fold. 

Genealogical research, which 
precedes the making of the record 
and specific ordinance work, is 
also a search for that which is 
lost. It is the search for one's own 
people, and it can become one of 
the great adventures of life. Add- 
ing to the importance of this 
search is the fact that it is moti- 
vated by the commandment of 
the Lord. 

Many Latter-day Saint women 
have been constantly engaged in 
all phases of vicarious work for 
the dead. They need no conver- 
sion. For the thousands of indi- 
viduals, however, who are new or 
comparatively new in the Church, 
the following question might be 
a logical one, "Why are a few 
names, a few dates so impor- 
tant?" In addition to these 
members who are seeking to 
understand all the principles of 



the gospel they have so recently 
accepted, there are many Latter- 
day Saints who have known a- 
bout the work for the dead but 
who have never engaged in it and, 
therefore, are not familiar with 
the many satisfactions which can 
come from participation in this 
glorious area of gospel living. To 
prepare one lesson which might 
meet fully the needs of these 
three groups would be most diffi- 
cult. This lesson, therefore, will 
accent one area only - that of 
preparing the record of our fore- 
fathers. This will include the 
exciting and rewarding experi- 
ence of genealogical research, 
which is necessary in the prepara- 
tion of all family records. 


Section 128 of the Doctrine 
and Covenants., among other 
things, gives instruction on the 
mission of the prophet Elijah, 
and baptism for the dead, as a 
welding link between departed 
fathers and the living children. It 
confirms other divine instruction 
to the effect that records kept on 
earth as well as those kept in 
heaven will be used in the final 
judgment. Referring to Revela- 
tion 20:12, the Prophet Joseph 
Smith writes: 

... I want you to remember that 
John the Revelator was contemplating 
this very subject in relation to the 
dead, when he declared, "And I saw 
the dead, small and great, stand be- 
fore God; and the books were opened; 
and another book was opened, which 
is the book of hfe; and the dead were 
judged out of those things which were 
written in the books, according to their 

You will discover in this quotation 
that the books were opened; and an- 
other book was opened', which was the 
book of life; but the dead were judged 
out of those things which were written 

in the books, according to their works; 
consequently, the books spoken of 
must be the books which contained 
the record of their works, and refer to 
the records which are kept on the 
earth. . . . 

Now, the nature of this ordinance 
consists in the power of the priest- 
hood, by the revelation of Jesus Christ, 
wherein it is granted that whatsoever 
you bind on earth shall be bound in 
heaven, and whatsoever you loose on 
earth shall be loosed in heaven. Or, in 
other words, taking a different view 
of the translation, whatsoever you 
record on earth shall be recorded in 
heaven, and whatsoever you do not 
record on earth shall not be recorded 
in heaven; for out of the books shall 
your dead be judged, according to 
their own works, whether they them- 
selves have attended to the ordinances 
in their own propria persona, or by 
the means of their own agents, accord- 
ing to the ordinance which God has 
prepared for their salvation from be- 
fore the foundation of the world, 
according to the records which they 
have kept concerning their dead 
(D&C 128:6-8). 


The Lord has given us a com- 
mandment to seek out our ances- 
tors and to do a vicarious work 
for them which they could not do 
for themselves. Relative to this 
divine commandment, the Proph- 
et Joseph Smith stated: "The 
greatest responsibility in this 
world that God has laid upon us 
is to seek after our dead" (smith, 
Teachings of the Prophet Joseph 
Smith, Salt Lake City, Deseret 
News Press, 1938, page 356). 

This responsibility is not to be 
postponed until next year, or next 
generation. We must assume our 
share of this cooperative en- 
deavor today. The Prophet 
Joseph Smith also said, "The 
Saints have not too much time 
to sa^'e and redeem their dead, 
and gather together their living 
relatives, that they may be saved 



also, before the earth will be 
smitten, and the consumption de- 
creed falls upon the world" {Ibid, 
page 330). 


The commandment of the Lord 
regarding vicarious work for the 
dead involves two distinct areas 
of effort: 

1. The obtaining of specific infor- 
mation which will identify and estab- 
lish relationships of individuals in 
whom we have special interest. This 
information is to be recorded accord- 
ing to specified instructions and pre- 

2. The performing of required 
ordinances within the Temple, for 
these individuals who have had no 
opportunity to do the work for them- 

Many Latter-day Saints have 
believed that since records are 
kept in heaven and also kept by 
the Church upon earth, no more 
records are necessary. This, how- 
ever, is not so. We are com- 
manded to keep a personal rec- 
ord. In a letter to the saints 
(D&C 128:24) the Prophet in- 
structs us concerning the need 
and nature of vicarious work, in- 
cluding the records to be made. 
He writes, *'Let us, therefore, as 
a church and a people, and as 
Latter-day Saints, offer unto the 
Lord an offering in righteousness; 
and let us present in his holy 
temple, when it is finished a book 
containing the records of our 
dead, which shall be worthy of all 
acceptation." This is the Book of 
Remembrance. What an impres- 
sive title for this essential record! 


In the sixth chapter of Moses, 
we read of records prepared and 
kept by Adam and Eve, **And a 
book of remembrance was kept, 
in the which was recorded, in the 

language of Adam, for it was given 
unto as many as called upon God 
to write by the spirit of inspira- 
tion . . . and a genealogy was 
kept of the children of God. And 
this was the book of the genera- 
tions of Adam" (P of GP, Moses 
6:5, 8). 

From these quotations revealed 
to the Prophet Joseph Smith, in 
December 1830, we learn of in- 
formation which is essential to 
our Book of Remembrance. 

What it should contain. Ac- 
cording to the Priesthood Gene- 
alogical Committee of the Church, 
a Book of Remembrance should 
contain two primary divisions: 

Division 1 - Genealogical informa- 
tion relating to the direct line of the 
family, and pedigree charts as far 
back as we have been able to trace 
them. This would include the seven 
family group sheets prepared as part 
of the Priesthood Genealogy Program 
of 1965. 

It should also include eight sheets 
(four for the husband and four for 
the wife) on the families of our great 
grandparents, which are to be a part 
of this program for 1966. As additional 
family group sheets on the direct line 
are completed, and as the pedigree 
line is extended, they should be added 
to the record. 

Division 2 - Biographical material 
available, relative to parents, grand- 
parents, or any ancestor whose name 
appears on the pedigree chart. If 
personal accounts are not available, 
then we should write what is known of 
their life stories. Spiritual experiences 
that have been meaningful to the 
family might appropriately be in- 
cluded. There should be a personal 
record of the person or persons com- 
piling the record, which would include 
such information as birth, baptism, 
ordination, marriage, special blessings, 
missions, etc. 

Have you prepared a Book of 
Remembrance? If so, does it 
qualify, according to the above 




We know from scripture that 
vicarious work for the dead is 
not a new doctrine. The Prophet 
Joseph Smith states this ''was the 
burden of the scriptures" (smith, 
Teachings of the Prophet Joseph 
Smith, page 193). "Salvation for 
the dead was understood in the 
days of the primitive Christian 
Church, and to some extent bap- 
tisms for the dead continued to 
be performed until A.D. 379" 
MCCONKiE, BRUCE R., Compiler; 
Doctrines of Salvation, Sermons 
and Writings of Joseph Fielding 
Smith, Vol. II, page 163). Sup- 
porting this assertion are the 
words of Paul the apostle in his 
epistle to the Corinthians: ''Else 
what shall they do which are bap- 
tized for the dead, if the dead 
rise not at all? why are they then 
baptized for the dead?" (I Cor. 

That there was no work for the 
dead until after the crucifixion 
of Christ, is supported by scrip- 

There could be no baptisms or 
endowments or any other work for 
the dead before the death of Jesus 
Christ. He it was who carried the 
message of the gospel to the dead and 
bridged the gulf spoken of in the 
parable of the rich man and Lazarus. 
He it was who, in fulfillment of the 
prophets, opened the door of the prison 
house and permitted the prisoners to 
come free. Until that time the dead 
were waiting for their salvation or re- 
demption, which should come through 
the blood of Christ (Ibid., pp. 164- 

After the resurrection of Christ the 
doors were opened to the dead, and 
the vicarious work for the dead was 
instituted and the authority of the 
Priesthood held by Elijah was then 
extended to include blessings for the 
dead, who would have received the 
gospel, if the privilege had been 

granted to them on this earth (Ibid., 
page 164). 


Although systematic and con- 
sistent research is to be encour- 
aged, much needed information 
may be obtained from unex- 
pected sources. One need only 
to be genuinely interested and 
alert; willing to listen and to put 
forth the effort to follow through 
on any "leads" that are found. 

Diaries, or old journals, old 
letters, old newspapers, and also 
family Bibles may often contain 
valuable information for the pres- 
ent-day genealogist. 

Where a family organization 
exists, it is often profitable to 
ask all members to go through 
their homes in search of any of 
the foregoing articles mentioned, 
for possible use by any other 
family members. 

Family cooperation is one of 
the most rewarding of benefits 
of genealogical work, for it brings 
living families together in mutual 
interests and affection. Numerous 
individuals throughout the world 
also have been cooperating un- 
knowingly. Motivated by the 
spirit of Elijah, they have been 
and are spending both time and 
money in preparing histories and 
records of their forefathers. 

By 1844 . . . there were only about 
thirty-seven published family histo- 
ries. . . . Family genealogies are now 
numbered by the hundreds of thou- 
sands. . . (BENNETT, ARCHIBALD F.: 
Saviors on Mount Zion, page 75). 

To find an unknown ancestor 
after years and years of search is 
an experience almost too thrilling 
to be expressed in words. 

Far too numerous to be re- 
corded, are the rewarding experi- 
ences which highlight the road of 



genealogical discovery — a road 
which all Latter-day Saint fami- 
lies may travel, if they will. Frag- 
ments of conversation of indi- 
viduals who are making this 
journey follow. They may kindle 
your own imagination and moti- 
vate your own resourcefulness. 

Woman #1 - Last month I found 
in a box of family mementos and relics 
a letter which has been unnoticed for 
over sixty years. It gave me the place 
and definite date of an inheritance 
settlement of years ago. I wrote to the 
Probate Judge of the city, for a copy 
of the court proceedings. As a result, 
I now have the name of a previously 
unknown second wife and child for the 
family group sheet. 

Woman #2 - While living in a large 
city a few years ago, I telephoned a 
home listed under the name in which 
I was interested. I inquired of the man 
who answered the call if he knew of 
any printed book on the family line. 
He said he did not, but suggested that 
I write his father. I did this. His 
father's prompt reply began, "Indeed 
I do know of a book on that family in 
America and I am sending it to you 
as a gift." What a priceless gift, for a 
telephone call and a letter! 

Woman #3-1 have just discovered 
something interesting about cousin 
Jethro. He was born in March of 1720, 
followed the sea and became a wealthy 
ship captain. During the American 
Revolution he gave $20,000 to buy 
shoes and blankets for the soldiers at 
Valley Forge. He's no longer just a 
name on the family group sheet. 

Have you a similar experience 
you could recount? 

There are literally thousands of 
illustrations where genealogical 
research has brought the personal 
satisfactions of new and lasting 
friendships, deepened the interest 
in further research, and has re- 
sulted in faith-promoting experi- 

Those who are busily engaged 
in research work, today, affirm 

that earnest desire and prayerful 
effort are essentials which may 
bring into fulfillment that great 
promise of the Savior, "Ask, and 
it shall be given you; seek, and ye 
shall find; knock, and it shall be 
opened unto you" (Matt. 7:7). 

The followiixg words by Presi- 
dent Wilford Woodruff given in 
General Conference, October 
1891, are applicable: 

It is a great blessing that we stand 
in the flesh in this last dispensation 
and fulness of times; and where we 
can open our hearts to understand 
these blessings, all of us will labor, 
as far as we have opportunity, 
to attend to this duty for our dead. I 
do not want to go into the spirit world 
and meet with my progenitors and 
have them say to me, "You held the 
keys of my redemption and my salva- 
tion and you neglected to do this work, 
and I am not redeemed' " (1966 
Melchizedek Priesthood Lessons, Les- 
son 38). 


Questions which arise in the 
class period. 

Have class members relate, 
briefly, some of their own per- 
sonal experiences in compiling 
the seven group sheets during the 
past year. 


1. Become aware of the names on 
your pedigree chart so that no unex- 
pected opportunity to obtain infor- 
mation will slip by you. Enlist the 
cooperation of family members. Young 
people often have found important 
genealogical information. 

2. Do you have any biographical 
accounts of your parents or other 
persons appearing on your pedigree 
charts? If you do not, but know of 
relatives who might have this data, 
write for a copy. 

3. Become acquainted through the 
high priest group leader of your ward 
with brochures and printed books 
written by Latter-day Saint members 



as special help for beginning re- 
searchers. Very useful an^nng these 
brochures and printed book, are: 
Genealogical Research - A Practical 
Mission, by HOWARD S. bennion. The 
Deseret Sunday School Union. This 
book contains names of individuals 
who are specialists in research in 
different countries who have authored 
books on genealogy; Saviors on Mount 
Zion, by Archibald f. bennett. These 
books may be found in ward libraries. 

4. Become familiar, through your 
ward high priest group leader, with 
the Pedigree Referral Service of the 
Genealogical Society. 

5. Add to the suggestions for indi- 
vidual home activity this: Thank your 
Heavenly Father that you were per- 
mitted to come to earth in the dis- 
pensation of the fullness of time, with 
the privilege of being a savior on 
Mount Zion. 

LITERATURE — The Individual and Human Values 
As Seen Through Literature 

Elder Robert K. Thomas 

Lesson 14 — Facing Death — Part I 

(Text: "Out of the Best Books" pp. 420-39, 445-47, 473-82.) 

For Fourth Meeting, April 1966. 
In the Southern Hemisphere, July 1966 

Objective: To consider death, viewed with relationship 

to different life situations. 


In this month's lesson we shall 
discuss two short stories and two 
poems. Each is concerned with a 
particular situation in which 
death must be faced. The first 
selection for study is "The Sick 
Child," by the French writer, 

"The Sick Child," by Colette 

When, at the conclusion of 
"The Sick Child," the author 
suggests that recovery from ill- 
ness is not without its loss, we 
are tempted to brush aside this 
comment in relief and gratitude 
for the young life saved. What 
if the night has "lost its magic" 
and has become "meek and dis- 
enchanted"? The dreams of the 
child are only fever-induced fan- 

tasy, happily forgotten in health. 
Yet to discount this final point 
is to miss a significant part of 
a beautifully written story. 

The plot of "The Sick Child" 
could hardly be simpler. A small 
boy, Jean, afflicted with infantile 
paralysis and expected to die, 
rallies to survive a crisis and be- 
gin his recovery. To reduce the 
story to this is to make clear how 
little it depends upon plot. Char- 
acterization is equally simple; 
"Lady Mother" is appropriately 
maternal; the nurse Mandore is 
bluffly affectionate. Even the 
precocious child is just that. 
What then accounts for the uni- 
versal appeal of the story? 

To begin with, the theme of 
childhood sickness provides a 



situation that most readers can 
identify with easily. But very 
little of this story has to do with 
Jean's actual illness. What is 
unforgettable is the heightened 
awareness of life that imminent 
death brings. Note how the in- 
tensity of the crisis is reflected 
in the culminating force of the 
images used: 

He had lost all sense of time pass- 
ing so he could only judge by what 
he experienced. Often he believed that 
he was following a shadowy guide, 
one who had difficulty himself in 
finding the trail. Then he whimpered 
because he could not take the lead 
and, hearing his own wail of humbled 
pride or of utter exhaustion, he wheeled 
sharply, plunged through the wake 
of a cyclone, in search of a corner 
where he might find refuge. Now he 
was gripped with the agony of in- 
habiting a country where there were 
no corners, only a freezing current of 
dark air, a night on whose breast he 
was nothing more than a lost and 
weeping lad. Then he stood up, on 
legs that suddenly grew in number, 
that stretched to stilts through which 
pain cut like a scythe (Text, page 
433; reprinted by permission of Jac- 
ques Chambrun, New York). 

All the words here seem rooted 
in reality — yet somehow not 
limited by the actual. As Jean 
approaches death, the familiar 
symbols and relationships by 
which his life is directed come 
apart. Sounds, for instance, are 
no longer loud or soft; they are 
"hunchbacked" or "with pointed 
snouts like weasels." Such lan- 
guage transcends conventional 
levels, yet seems "right." No 
standard description appears cap- 
able of evoking sounds so in- 
tense that they take on shape 
as well as audibility. Colette 
seems to be saying that we ap- 
preciate the total richness and 
variety of life only as we come 
close to leaving it. Our lives are 

often so regular that we stand- 
ardize them, seeing routinely and 
acting predictably. How gratify- 
ing the most obvious manifesta- 
tions of life appear to be when 
we are shaken out of our usual 

This story provides an excep- 
tional opportunity for discussion 
of the multiple functions of lan- 
guage in literary communication. 
We are so used to words stating 
that we often feel a little uneasy 
when they suggest or evoke in- 
stead of asserting. Note that 
Jean's moment of greatest phys- 
ical crisis is suggested, not med- 
ically described, by the following: 

Now the boy who had been so gay 
and so spoiled, so at home in his lone- 
liness, so wrapped up in his privileges 
as a fatherless invalid, knew that only 
a sad little sound as of crystal break- 
ing, remained between him and a 
happiness whose hollow name he had 
still to learn: death (Text, page 432). 

By suggesting instead of stat- 
ing, the author helps us see 
freshly and forces us to become 
part of whatever is being pre- 
sented. If we are to get anything 
at all from reading that passing 
from life to death is "a sad little 
sound as of crystal breaking," 
we must try to involve ourselves 
in the mood which the author 
is providing for us. Assertive 
words usually serve as signposts 
which clearly point the way and 
require little more than mechan- 
ical following on our part. Sug- 
gestive words are more like 
compasses; they provide general 
direction, but leave the traveler 
to make his own path. 

"The Death of the Dauphin" 
by Alphonse Daudet 

The second selection for this 
month exploits a theme which 



is a very old one: death the 
leveller. It is probably appropri- 
ate that the selection we have 
chosen to illustrate this is French, 
for this idea has been especially 
prevalent in France. As early as 
the Thirteenth Century there 
were examples of what came to 
be known as the danse macabre 
or dance of the dead. While there 
were varied representations of 
this theme, they shared the basic 
idea that death is always lurking 
in the midst of life. Possibly re- 
flecting the New Testament par- 
able of the rich man who finally 
decided to enjoy the goods he 
had acquired, only to be told by 
the Lord that he was to die that 
very night (Luke 12:16-21), this 
concept served not only to re- 
emphasize the vanity of earthly 
wishes; it also became a constant 
reminder that only death could 
put life into proper perspective. 

"The Death of the Dauphin" 
is really just a modem adapta- 
tion of this ancient theme. It 
even retains the pictorial quality 
of early danse macabre pre- 
sentations. Note how the char- 
acters in this little story are 
grouped. We hardly need dialogue 
as we go from scene to scene — 
weeping maids of honor bowing 
on the stairs, robed doctors dis- 
puting just outside the sick 
room, the child's tutors at the 
door, the king in stoic isolation 
— all are focused on the bed in 
which the dying Dauphin lies. 
The pomp of this picture is in 
ironic contrast to the pale child 
on the white pillow. 

Daudet's style is appropriate 
to his tale. If much of what is 
presented is sketched in with 
vivid, contrasting strokes, the 
matter-of-fact reporting of what 
is happening heightens the con- 

trast between regal Ufe and com- 
mon death. Yet Daudet manages 
to be tender where most writers 
in this vein are merely grim. The 
imperious, insensitive Prince is, 
at last, only a crying child seek- 
ing the comfort that nothing 
earthly can give. 

"Tithonus" by Alfred Lord Tennyson 

The final selections for the 
month examine special problems 
in relation to death. Tennyson's 
"Tithonus" chronicles the despair 
of one who cannot die, one who 
in the words of Job "longs for 
death, but it cometh not." 

The poem tells the story of Ti- 
thonus, son of the king of Troy, who 
was married to Aurora, goddess of 
the dawn. Tithonus was a mortal 
being, subject to ageing and death, 
and Aurora was immortal, beyond 
the effects of either ageing or death. 
At the request of Aurora, the gods 
granted Tithonus eternal life, but 
she neglected to request eternal youth 
for him. Therefore, as the years came 
and went, he grew forever older, for- 
ever more feeble, but could not die. 
In lamentation for his pUght, Tith- 
onus in the poem cries out, "Me only 
cruel immortality consumes; I wither 
slowly in thine arms . . . immortal 
age beside immortal youth." Later he 
pleads, "Let me go; take back thy 
gift." He would die, but cannot. Final- 
ly, according to the old legend, but 
beyond the limits of Tennyson's 
poem, Tithonus grew so withered and 
ugly that Aurora turned him into a 
grasshopper (Text, pages 476-477). 

For members of the Church, 
Tennyson's poem may have un- 
usual meaning — particularly in 
the light of the beautiful sermon 
on "restoration" in Chapters 40 
and 41 of Alma in The Book of 
Mormon. We speak so easily of 
death as a release — and surely 
it frees us from the pains that 
flesh is heir to — but the choices 
we have made, rise with us in an 



after life. It is a bit sad to hear 
Tithonus lament his decaying 
body at length but dismiss the 
wrong choice which brought 
about his woe in a line or two. 
How difficult it is to see that the 
essence of tragedy lies not in how 
death comes but in the choices 
which may have governed one's 
life. To those who see this life 
as part of an eternal plan, death 
is not so much release as it is 
progression. If we accept this 
view, it is not hard to believe 
that death is to be feared only 
where one has not prepared him- 
self for the accounting which 
death exacts. 
"Auto Wreck" by Karl Shapiro 

"Auto Wreck" concerns itself 
with death which seems not only 
premature but needless, and is 
a powerful indictment of man's 
inability to solve his basic prob- 

"Auto Wreck" gives a focus 
which is personal for most of us. 
In fact, part of Shapiro's point 
is that the violence of death by 
automobile accident is so com- 
monplace that we are becoming 
inured to it. We slow down 
momentarily as we pass the scene 
of a wreck; we may even hope 
aloud that no one was badly 
hurt. But, once well past the 
flashing lights and sirens, we re- 
sume the speed and driving 
habits which may unite us with 
total strangers in the grim in- 
timacy of death. 

One of the ways in which the 
author has tried to keep us 
aware of our collective guilt and 
shared danger, is to develop the 
poem in terms of an injured vic- 
tim. The bell of the ambulance 
beats like a heart; the flare 
pulses like a cut artery; the 
throats of the onlookers are 

"tight as tourniquets," and the 
horror of the scene holds those 
who gather as if their feet were 
"bound in splints." 

Yet Shapiro does not rely on 
this device alone to make us feel 
our identification with those di- 
rectly involved. The bell of the 
ambulance tolls as well as beats, 
and in its tolling we hear echoes 
of John Donne's famous sermon 
in which he reminds us that we 
needn't send to find out for 
whom the funeral bell tolls, for 
when any man dies, humanity is 
diminished, and as part of hu- 
manity we also suffer. 

There is nothing so ordered as 
rhyme in "Auto Wreck." Many 
of the lines scurry, then pause, 
only to resume their speed once 
more, and we realize that the 
author is letting us drive through 
the poem as we approach, circle 
around, and then accelerate on 
past the accident. 

The final stanza, however, 
transcends the specific accident 
in trying to fit the particular into 
the whole — but the poem ends in 
despair. Other forms of death 
may be rationalized, if not justi- 
fied, but the carnage which is 
becoming an accepted fact of 
travel by automobile seems hope- 
less of solution. Such death be- 
comes a tragic commentary upon 
modern man's enslavement of a 
technology which is at once his 
pride and his destruction. 

Questions for Discussion 

1. How convincing is Colette's sug- 
gestion that life must be jarred from 
its usual modes if we are really to 
appreciate it? 

2. Under what conditions might the 
universality of death serve to unite 

3. To what extent do you think 
Tithonus has recognized his problem 
in the last lines of Tennyson's poem? 


Mable Jones Gabbott 

The way will not be always silk and song 
For you, my second son, the one in the middle. 
Ahead the first ones freely stride along 
And those behind are sheltered, being little. 

But in the middle of the world are those 

Whose stride is tempered, those who cannot walk 

Apart, because the needs of others close 

Upon them, to measure both their step and talk. 

So they, like you, will learn to give and sway, 
And being flexible will learn to growir 
And in the middle of the night to pray 
Perhaps, and only you will come to know 

The deep harmonious tuning of life's strings 
That being in the middle always brings. 


Ora Pate Stewart 

The rain had come and gone; the meadow grass 
Had drunk the offering and stood renewed. 
A rainbow arch, in colors of stained glass. 
Prescribed the arc of promise. Life was good. 

I gave my faithful horse his rein — dismounted: 
He munched the grass — I drank the new-washed air. 
Each in his way, a horse and mount recounted 
The goodnesses of God — and made a prayer. 

And then it happened, suddenly, exquisite: 
Into a hoof-print pressed into the ground 
Some water welled and filled — ^to be explicit, 
A tiny pool appeared, pristine and round. 

And into it, from nowhere, plunged a sparrow. 
Submerging, thrashing, unashamed, he plumed — 
Emerging, splashing, dashing through the yarrow. 
To flit away, fresh-bathed and fully groomed. 

As suddenly his little bathtub emptied. 
As if some fingers had unplugged the drain. 
A flash of opportunity — remembered — 
Grew unforgettable, mingled with pain. 

I stand accused whenever I recall: 
"Into each life a little rain must fall." 
I have not made the most of it at all. 


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Your kitchen stays 
cleaner when you 


If it's electric, it's better! 


Vesta N. Fairbairn 

If I were a blue jay 
I think that I'd stay 
In my garden all day. 

I'd hop on the lawn 

In the dewy dawn, 

I'd hide in the flowers 

In the sunny hours, 

I'd swing in the breeze 

On the boughs of the trees. 

And I'd fly up high 

In the twilight sky 

Before I'd rest 

In my hidden nest. 

I'd love everything 

But I'd never sing. 

So no one would say, 
"Oh, noisy blue jay, 
Go away! Go away!" 


Uncle Time and Auntie Inclination 

Vilate R. McAllister 

■ We didn't call them Uncle Time and Auntie Inclination to their faces. We 
used these affectionate, if dubious, nicknames only when we spoke of them 
out of earshot. It was the easiest way of identifying this loved couple, so one 
could not possibly get them mixed up with others of our numerous aunts and 
uncles, great-aunts and great-uncles, and the so-called "aunts" and "uncles" 
which every child has, who are no blood relation at all, but are friends of his 
parents — to which latter class these two belonged. 

But to get back to the nicknames: Whenever Auntie Inclination would ask 
Uncle Time to do any special little chore around the place, he would invariably 
answer, "Yes, M'love, when I get time." And Auntie would just as invariably 
mutter under her breath, so he couldn't hear (because she would not offend 
him for the world!) ''And inclination!" 

"The flower-garden wants hoeing," she would remind him. 

"Yes, M'love, when I get time." He always called her M'love. 

"And inclination," she would whisper resignedly. 

"The screen door needs new paint," or "I think you should write to your 
brother Tom," or "How about seeing Attorney Jones about getting our will 
drawn up?" she would suggest. 

And we knew Uncle Time would do it when he got time — and inclination! 

We could never see where Uncle was crowded for time. He could spend 
days on end off fishing. He could hob-nob for hours with neighbor Duncan 
over the pasture fence. He could sit in the shade and cut little sticks into 
shavings, not making anything, just whittling. He could spin yams with the 
boys at the corner grocery far into the night. So we concluded that the reason 
the weeds took the yard, the paint curled on the screen door, the letter never 
reached brother Tom, and Uncle would probably die intestate, was not really 
lack of time, but lack of inclination. 

Deep in his heart he probably knew this. But it is so much easier to blame 
time rather than inclination for our procrastination and omissions! Time is 
something outside ourselves, while inclination is a part of us. Who would 
not rather "pass the buck" than admit his own failure? 

So we find people all around us (and we do it ourselves if we have the 
courage to admit it) , who continually get their semantics mixed up. They don't 
have time to go to church, to teach a class, to work on the welfare farm, to 
visit a shut-in, to read the scriptures or other good books, to serve in a civic 
capacity, to write to a loved one, to develop their talents, to do a hundred 
and one simple acts of service that would bring joy to others, and, incidentally, 
to themselves. Yet some people, with the same twenty-four-hour day, find 
or make time for such things. We seem to have time for what we really want 
to do. 

Time is a great gift. But it seems increasingly clear that of the two, in- 
clination is the greater, for it determines what we do with our time. For- 
tunately, though time is static, inclination is something we can enlarge. It is 
in our power to control. The people we admire for their accomplishments and 
service have succeeded through directing their inclinations. For many of them, 
the obligations of duty have imposed on their time, it is true. But like a 
persistent tree that grows in a rock, their inclinations have been strong enough 
to triumph. For this they merit and receive our praise. 

It would seem appropriate when we include the familiar phrase in our 
prayers, "Help us to use our time and talents to advantage," that we add the 
more important request that he help us also to develop a set of wholesome 
and sturdy inclinations. 



Mrs. Anna Wagstaff McGhie 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

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Warfordsburg, Pennsylvania 

Mrs. Rachel Middleton Jensen 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Kirsten Marie Sorensen Jensen 
Shelley, Idaho 



Mrs. Julia M. Sullivan Greene 
Salt Lake City. Utah 

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Mrs. Olla Eugenia Cleveland Earl 
Centerville, Utah 

Mrs. Loretta Tucker Johnson 
Oakland, California 

Mrs. Mary Munk Livingston 
Ephraim, Utah 

Mrs. Emily Elizabeth Davis Schettler 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Amelia Jensen Topham 
Pa rowan, Utah 

Mrs. Lily P. Bagley 
Sacramento, California 

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Ogden, Utah 


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Plain City, Utah 

Mrs. Samantha Kirkpatrick 
Garden Grove, California 

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McGill, Nevada 

Mrs. Jessie Bowers Smith Inman 
Phoenix, Arizona 

Mrs. Armitta Peterson Clark 
Lehi, Utah 

Mrs. Fanny Green Thompson 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Carolyn Pfifperer Larsen 
Ogden, Utah 

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Lake View, Utah 


Mrs. Ane Marie Andersen Jensen 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Louise Johnson Brown 
Spanish Fork, Utah 

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Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Ida Ivie Stanford Dix 
Phoenix, Arizona 

Mrs. Sarah Jensen Senton 
Salt Lake City. Utah 

Mrs. Eulalia Cravens 
Carmichael. California 

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Kemmerer, Wyoming 


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Important reading 
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A straightforward talk about youth 
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for every LDS "teen." 


by R. D. Willey 
An invaluable guide to the mother 
and the teacher by a man whose train- 
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Volume 53 Number 2 





Lessons for- May 




Dorothy J. Roberts 

Taken W^rf\ the granite hills, they tower 

Over the strata of a doubting night, 

And though each facet of the valley changes 

The spires, unaltered, stand forth, bathed in light. 

Something lifts the mind which daily watches 
Gold and granite bearing cloud and wind — 
Hearing their hymn of hope, the laden oxcart, 
Their voice of faith, though far away and thinned. 

How good to see the temple spires lifted 

Above the darkness and the creeping frost; 

To see this monument from hearts that worshipped 

And hands which labored that no dream be lost. 

Changed only by the tinted moods of weather 
The towers rise, eternal to the eye, 
And I am moved to stand a little taller 
Because of this grace carved against the sky. 

The Cover: 

Art Layout: 

Moraine Lake and the Valley of Ten Peaks in the Canadian Rockies 

Transparency by Lucien Bown 

Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

Temple Spires, Photograph by Dorothy J. Roberts 

Dick Scopes 



I read The Relief Society Magazine 
every issue, and really enjoy it. I would 
think that any homemaker, whether a 
member of the Church or not, would 
appreciate receiving this little gem each 
month. Maybe you don't have many 
male readers, but perhaps you have 
more than you think. I know of a few 
besides myself who are readers and 
enjoy this excellent Magazine. 

George F. Lee 
Ogden, Utah 

It is wonderful to receive The Relief 
Society Magazine when I am so far 
away from home. It fills many hours 
with inspiring lessons, wonderful stories 
and poems. My issues circulate in 
many nonmember homes and are read 
from cover to cover. 

Mrs. Christa Jensen 

Puerto Ordaz 

Estado Bolivar 


I enjoy everything about the Magazine, 
from the beautiful cover, on through 
the stories, poems, editorials, and 
lessons. It is uplifting and inspiring. I 
especially enjoyed President Belle S. 
Spafford's address "The Blessings of 
Experience" in the November issue. 

Ann G. Ollar 
Irving, Texas 

I am lifted up by the stories and the 
messages found in The Relief Society 
Magazine, and I have a new zest for it. 
I am trying my best to put the Maga- 
zine into the homes, hearts, and hands 
of all the sisters in the branch, so that 
they can benefit from its beauty, truth, 
and love from the leaders who are all 
inspired from our Savior in heaven. 

Lillie Hendricks 
Big Spring, Texas 

I don't want to miss a single Maga- 
zine, as I save them all for future use. 
The recipes are wonderful, as is every- 
thing in the Magazine. It is truly won- 

Mrs. Dot Underwood 
Billings, Montana 

First and foremost, let me give thanks 
to Mrs. C. E. Crocker, who introduced 
me to your periodical. I was employed 
by her, and I enjoy every copy of the 
Magazine to which she so kindly gave 
me a subscription. The covers are 
really works of art, and I enjoy the 
lessons, although I am of another faith. 
Peace of mind and tranquility are the 
major factors which I get from all of 
the stories, articles, and the literature 

Mrs. Evelyn L. N lessen 

Oakland, California 

I surely do not want to miss one issue 
of The Relief Society Magazine. I 
enjoy it ever so much. As soon as it 
arrives, I hurry and read the continued 
story. Then, later, I always read it from 
cover to cover. My husband is serving 
in Viet Nam, and at times I become 
discouraged and lonely, and having the 
Magazine helps me to spend my time 
usefully. It helps me to place values in 
their proper perspective. 

Mrs. Merle Craig 
Orem, Utah 

The Ward Magazine representative in 
one of the wards where we are trying 
to get the young mothers to subscribe 
for the Magazine and to attend the 
meetings, told me how much she en- 
joyed the Magazine. She is twenty-three 
and has two small children. She said 
one day she was quite upset, and the 
Magazine happened to come, so she 
picked it up. Suddenly she found the 
answer to her problem, and since then, 
the minute the Magazine comes she 
reads it. As for myself, I love the 
poetry. It fills my need. It is wonderful 
to have so many gifted sisters writing 
for the Magazine. 

Helen Shaw 

South Carolina West Stake 
Charlotte, North Carolina 


The r^O li^ff S^Ci^ty Magazine 

Volume 53 February 1966 Number 2 

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

Special Features 

84 Relief Society Administration Leadership Delbert L. Stapley 
98 Self-Expression Through Music Florence Jepperson Madsen 

100 One Day at the Temple Vida D. Brinton 

105 Let's Conquer Heart Disease 

106 Relief Society Is for All the Sisters Peggy Petersen Stephens 


91 "A Time to Every Purpose" Second Prize Story Venda Castleberry 

107 A Valentine for Mother Kathryn E. Franks 

125 Wheat for the Wise — Chapter 2 Margery S. Stewart 

General Features 

82 From Near and Far 

101 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

102 Editorial: A Valentine for the Visiting Teachers Vesta P. Crawford 
104 In Memoriam — Gladys Sessions Boyer 

104 Notes to the Field: The Relief Society Emblem 

128 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities 

159 This Day Will Bring Some Lovely Thing Stella Hatch 

160 Birthday Congratulations 

The Home -Inside and Out 

112 Rhubarb Reminds Me Genevieve Van Wagenen 

114 Quantity Cooking for Relief Society Functions — Part IV Rosa Shurtz 

118 "Scrap Happy" Loray C. Randall 

120 The Lovely Leek Elizabeth Williamson 

122 Promise Nelda P. Litchfield 

123 Phankuchen Janet W. Breeze 

124 Sunburst and Diamonds — Many Patterns for Many Quilts 

Lessons for May 

135 Theology • The First Presidency — Keys of the Kingdom Roy W. Doxey 
141 Visiting Teacher Message • "He That Seeketh Me Early Shall Find Me . . ." 

Christine H. Robinson 
143 Work Meeting • Cleanliness Is Next to Godliness (A Continuation) Hazel S. Cannon 
145 Social Science • Two Worlds As One Alberta H. Christensen 
151 Literature • Facing Death — Part II Bruce B. Clark 


81 Temple Spires Dorothy J. Roberts 

Oakland, Marilyn McMeen Miller, 90; No Longer Missing, Eleanor W. Schow, 97; Night Life, 
Kathryn Kay, 109; In Defense of Valentines, Olive W. Burt, 109; Rain River, Clara Laster, 
110; Buying a House, Vesta Nickerson Fairbairn, 111; Against the Snow, Caroline Eyring 
Miner, 121; In a Secret Pool, Lael W. Hill, 142; To an Eleven- Year-Old, Christie Lund Coles, 
156; Dark Glen. Shirley M. Howard, 158; New Friend, Ethel Jacobson, 158. 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints. ?^ 1965 by the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main 
Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone 364-2511; Subscription Price $2.00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c 
a copy, payable in advance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers can be sup- 
plied. 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 Oc- 
tober 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 ifor unsolicited manu- 

Relief Society 



Elder Delbert L. Stapley 
of The Council of the Twelve 

[Address Delivered at the Stake 

Board Session of the Relief Society 

Annual General Conference, 

September 30, 1965] 




■ I am grateful, sisters of Relief 
Society, for this opportunity of 
speaking to you in this, your an- 
nual conference. Your Presidency 
has given me a rather difficult 
assignment, and I pray what I 
have prepared may fit into what 
they had in mind and now have 
in mind, and that you will not 
go away disappointed. Relief So- 
ciety is a wonderfully choice or- 
ganization, presided over by 
dedicated, faithful women, who 
willingly and cooperatively work 
under the direction of the Priest- 

The Prophet Joseph Smith, 
when establishing Relief Society, 
expressed himself as being deeply 
interested in its activities. He 
referred to the organization as a 
select society of virtuous women 
and challenged them to purge 
out iniquity from among them 
and to observe the laws of the 
kingdom of God. He also coun- 
seled the women constantly to 
practice the principles of holiness. 
These instructions from the 
Prophet give broad vision to the 
work of Relief Society. 

The purpose of the Church and 
its leadership is to save and bless 
people. If you lose this under- 
standing of purpose in Relief 
Society, you have lost the true 
spirit of your work. 

I should like to paraphrase two 
verses from the revelation on 
Priesthood which I feel are apro- 
pos to Relief Society leadership. 

Wherefore, now let every woman 
learn her duty, and to act in the of- 
fice in which she is appointed, in all 
diligence. She that is slothful shall 
not be counted worthy to stand, and 
she that learns not her duty and 
shows herself not approved shall not 
be counted worthy to stand (para- 
phrased from D&C 107:99, 100). 


This instruction and counsel 
significantly applies to all lead- 
ership in the Church. To learn 
one's duty is most important to 
the success of the work. How 
can one learn her duty if she fails 
to study the handbooks, manuals, 
Relief Society Magazines, and 
other excellent materials pro- 
vided by Relief Society? How can 
Relief Society workers learn their 
duty by absenting themselves 
from preparation and training 
meetings? The effectiveness of 
your work equates to the presence 
or non-attendance of officers and 
teachers at all appointed meet- 
ings of the organization. Failure 
of board members to attend sched- 
uled meetings causes them to lose 
the values and spirit which the 
instructions and discussions, with 
prayer, inspire. 

The purpose of officer and 
teacher meetings. Relief Society 
conventions, conferences, etc. is 
to teach, train, and motivate 
workers to full and effective serv- 
ice. You cannot do your duty 
effectively unless you take ad- 
vantage of every opportunity to 
improve and qualify yourselves 
for the stewardship of your call- 
ings to service. 

We have now arrived at the 
second step: To act in the office 
in which you are appointed, in 
all diligence. Here is the real 
key to success in Relief Society 
work. The Lord has admonished, 
"Thou shalt not idle away thy 
time, neither shalt thou bury thy 
talent that it may not be known" 
(D&C 60:13). 

Someone has wisely said: "I 
admonish you to regard procras- 
tination as poison to the soul. Be 
not guilty of it." How many 
valuable opportunities are stolen 

by that thief procrastination? 
Here is a sentiment that helps 
one to appreciate this truth: "Lost 
— somewhere between sunrise 
and sunset two golden hours, 
each set with sixty diamond 
minutes. No reward is offered for 
they are gone forever." Now it 
requires less time to do a thing 
than it does to worry about do- 
ing it. 

Sisters, always be diligent in 
your callings. You are dealing 
with God's children. Help return 
them safely to him. Remember 
again, she that is slothful shall 
not be counted worthy to stand; 
and she that learns not her duty 
and shows herself not approved, 
shall not be counted worthy to 

The scope of a person's calling 
is as broad as his or her vision. 
One's vision can be enlarged by 
study and prayerful meditation; 
also by attendance at all ap- 
pointed meetings, which provide 
leadership and teacher develop- 
ment. It is important to .grasp 
the full significance and magni- 
tude of one's calling. There must 
be imaginative and creative think- 
ing and doing for success. 

Remember, also, the Lord has 
warned, and again I am para- 
phrasing : 

For behold it is not meet that I 
should command in all things; for 
she that is compelled in all things, 
the same is a slothful and not a 
wise servant; wherefore she receiveth 
no reward. 

Verily I say, women should be 
anxiously engaged in a good cause, 
and do many things of their own free 
will, and bring to pass much right- 
eousness; For the power is in thein, 
wherein they are agents unto them- 
selves. And inasmuch as women do 
good they shall in nowise lose their 
reward (paraphrased from D&C 58: 



Initiative, faithfulness, and 
obedience are emphasized in this 

God has said: ". . . whatever 
ye do according to the will of 
the Lord is the Lord's business" 
(D&C 64:29). You sisters are 
engaged in the Lord's service, 
thus fulfilling your part in the 
Lord's business of saving souls. 

Like any business, the king- 
dom of God requires strength of 
leadership in its organizations to 
fulfill the purposes of God for 
his children. The organization of 
the Church in this last dispensa- 
tion of God's providence is per- 
fect and should function perfectly. 
This condition cannot be attained 
without the wise choice of leaders 
placed in positions where their 
talents and abilities can serve 
best. In business, people are em- 
ployed and placed in positions 
according to their proven qual- 
ifications, or they possess the 
potential abilities and skills which 
by teaching and training, will 
qualify them to render effective 
and profitable service. 

In the Church we cannot as- 
sume because a person is faithful 
and true that he or she can give 
a good account of his or her 
stewardship in any Church posi- 
tion. I submit that faithfulness is 
a necessary ingredient in the 
character of the individual chosen; 
but, regardless of how good the 
person is, he or she can serve 
far more satisfactorily and hap- 
pily in the field of their native 
talents and endowments than 
elsewhere. I have great respect 
and faith in what the Holy Ghost 
can do for an individual, but I 
firmly believe the Holy Ghost can 
do far more for an individual who 
is called to serve in a position 
where his or her talents and qual- 

ifications fit them more capably. 

I have seen successful teachers 
fail when called to leadership 
positions. Because the teacher 
was successful as a teacher, the 
pr^iding officer thought the 
teacher could give good leader- 
ship to an organization. It is not 
the fault of the individual who 
fails under such circumstances; 
it is the fault of the officer who 
has not analyzed what the posi- 
tion to be filled requires in abili- 
ties and qualifications; therefore, 
poor judgment was used in the 
selection of the worker. There is 
always a serious question to be 
considered when pulling an ef- 
fective teacher away from a class 
without having a qualified re- 
placement to take over. That 
question is: What will the effect 
be on the class? Will they be 
left to drift and thus become 
spiritually lost or partially so to 
the kingdom? 

The Relief Society, to do ef- 
fective and successful work, must 
be strong in all departments of 
activities and service. 

When staffing an organization, 
the president should be wisely 
and carefully chosen and on the 
basis of capabiHties, spirituality, 
and faithfulness. With the ap- 
proval of the presiding officer it 
is her privilege and right to select 
counselors who possess the tal- 
ents, abilities, and capabilities to 
complement her, so working to- 
gether, they are an all-around 
efficient and effective team. If 
possible, counselors should be 
selected who possess the potential 
qualities for top leadership. 

The presidency, acting to- 
gether, should select and recom- 
mend to the proper Priesthood 
authority those whom they wish 
to serve with them, being sui^ 



that those selected are worthy 
and true to the faith and have 
the spiritual and other qualifica- 
tions which fit them well for the 
positions to be filled. 

It seems to me working with 
people in the Church is a never- 
ending educational process. Every 
organization should constantly 
train its workers to assure a 
reservoir of capable leadership 
and teachers to fill the too-often 
occurring vacancies. I believe; as 
never before in the Church, lead- 
ers must be good teachers and 
have the ability to train others, 
and also have the spiritual en- 
thusiasm to motivate workers to 
do their best. Every person 
should strive diligently to meas- 
ure up to his or her potential. 
Anything short of one's best 
isn't good enough in the Lord's 
work. Also, anything worth doing 
is worth doing well. 

The plans and program of Re- 
lief Society, as announced by 
the Relief Society General Board, 
should be fully supported. 

Relief Society covers a broad 
field of activities so helpful and 
important to mothers of the 
Church. These activities, if in- 
terestingly conducted, will re- 
ceive wide support from the 
sisters. Relief Society promotes 
social functions, literature, social 
science, and theology lessons 
which can capture the interest 
and increase the attendance of 
Relief Society sisters and stim- 
ulate faith and faithfulness, also 
help them to obtain fervent testi- 
monies of the gospel of our Lord. 

We need an informed leader- 
ship. We are inclined too much in 
the Church to let our lines of 
communication break down so 
that information doesn't filter 
down through proper channels 

to the rank and file of our 
people. Leadership is prone not 
to share information with those 
who work with them. The better 
informed people are, the better 
work they do. That which people 
understand, they support. It is 
the things they do not under- 
stand, they fail to support. 

May I suggest and counsel Re- 
lief Society leadership, at all 
levels, to adhere to programs, in- 
structions, and procedures of your 
Society. Please don't set aside 
the planned functions of Relief 
Society and go off on tangents 
by following the personal ideas 
you may have about bettering its 
program and activities. 

Relief Society leaders should 
be capable administrators, knowl- 
edgeable in planning and pro- 
gramming, and with a willingness 
to share responsibility with work- 
ers by delegation and assignment, 
having trust in the workers by 
not taking over from them, yet 
hold them to good performance 
and proper results. 

You stake leaders fully support 
the Relief Society General Board 
and the full program it offers. Its 
Presidency work directly under 
General Authority Advisors and 
the First Presidency. The Relief 
Society program is approved by 

Ward Relief Society leadership 
and boards please support stake 
Relief Society leaders who work 
under a high councilman repre- 
sentative and the stake pres- 
idency. The Relief Society ward 
leadership and board also work 
under direction of the bishopric. 
In all these relationships (Gen- 
eral, stake, and ward boards) 
there must be delegation and in- 
struction without dictation. 



In the Church we are con- 
cerned with unity, which is 
achieved by working together in 
the spirit of love, and not by 
authoritative domination. Proper 
leadership attitudes, with friend- 
liness and love of people, are so 
important and meaningful to se- 
cure the respect, confidence, and 
the interest of the women of the 

President McKay, speaking to 
the brethren on the new mission- 
ary plan, made a most significant 
statement to them, which I en- 
vision as applying to all Church 
leadership. Said President Mc- 
Kay, "This plan (speaking of the 
missionary plan) as I see it, is a 
plan of education and not one of 
dictation." By thinking this state- 
ment through, we can understand 
how leaders should deal with each 
other in the Lord's work. 

However, we get out of people 
about what we expect. If we ex- 
pect good performance, we will 
receive good performance. If we 
are satisfied with mediocre per- 
formance, then we will obtain 
mediocre performance. 

With the growing Church, we 
must get set for more responsi- 
bility and be equal to greater 
challenges to service. You have 
a real job to do in Relief Society 
which requires constant self- 
evaluation of one's potential; and 
from that self-evaluation deter- 
mine whether you workers are 
measuring up to the potentialities 
of your callings. 

When inviting a person to serve 
in Relief Society, leadership 
should not minimize the time or 
devotion one is required to give. 
If leaders will help workers under 
them to obtain a proper perspec- 
tive of their callings and what the 
aims, objectives, and purposes 

are, greater accomplishments and 
improved results will follow. 

In the selection of people for 
Church service, leadership first 
must determine, by prayerful 
study, what the position to be 
filled requires to meet the pur- 
poses, aims, and objectives of the 
work. When that is determined, 
then leadership will look around 
for someone meeting the qualifi- 
cations of the position and who 
is thoroughly orthodox in the 
doctrines and programs of the 
Church. When such an individual 
is found, after proper clearance, 
she should be approached and the 
work of the position explained 
clearly to her understanding, em- 
phasizing what is expected of her, 
the time it will take, then if she 
responds with enthusiasm to the 
challenge, invite her to serve. If 
she is hesitant and lacks en- 
thusiasm for the calling, then it 
is best to look for someone else. 
We must have people in the or- 
ganizations of the Church who 
can be depended upon to give 
full, devoted, and dedicated serv- 

Another important item in in- 
viting people to service is an 
understanding about tenure of 
office. No organization can suc- 
ceed v^th frequency of personnel 
turnover. The most effective 
organizations are those where the 
personnel stay together. It seems 
we hardly train someone for an 
important Church position — and 
all positions are important — 
when for some reason or another, 
replacement is necessary. It takes 
several months to settle into a 
position and be effective in the 
work. Leadership, struggling con- 
stantly to train new personnel, 
finds it very difficult to promote 
the full program of the Church 



successfully for the blessing of its 

Much care should be exercised 
in selecting qualified and efficient 
secretaries who are capable and 
meticulous with the records and 
reports of Relief Society. Good 
records will give understanding to 
presidencies of the statistical 
status of an organization in order 
that the officers can determine 
measurement of Relief Society 
progress and know where special 
attention and emphasis are re- 

Relief Society should constant- 
ly measure its progress to 
determine what direction the 
organization is going. Your first 
comparison should be with your 
own organization's progress. If 
you want to compare your organi- 
zation with another, it should be 
with the best, and not with the 
average. The same thing is true in 
business. If a business man wants 
to compare his operation with 
another, he should find the best 
in his field. Then he will learn 
something that will be helpful to 
him in making his own business 
more successful and profitable. 
This principle holds true in Relief 
Society. No doubt you receive 
comparative reports, which per- 
mit you to know what other 
Relief Societies are doing. From 
the best and most efficient among 
them, you will want to emulate in 
the organization for which you 
are responsible. 

One thing in any organization 
which always concerns me is 
trends. Watch trends carefully; 
are they up or down? If the trend 
is down, even though slightly, 
then is the time to redouble the 
efforts of leadership and all board 
members working cooperatively 
together to reverse the trend. If 

an organization drifts too far 
downward, it takes many months 
of real hard work to change the 
trend to an upward, progressive 
position. This means the board 
must always have a full staff of 
constantly functioning officers 
and teachers. 

If a new program is introduced, 
you should keep careful check to 
see if, statistically, your organiza- 
tion shows any improvement in 
results; if not, the cause should 
be determined and appropriate 
action taken to correct the con- 
dition or conditions. 

It seems to me that in keeping 
with the tempo of our times, we 
cannot wait for things to happen. 
We must make them happen, and 
in the right direction for the 
success of the Lord's work, and 
this applies to Relief Society. 

In Relief Society you leaders 
must evaluate, challenge, and 
commit your workers to faithful 
performance. It is the job of 
leadership to know the program. 
It is the job of every board mem- 
ber to become thoroughly ac- 
quainted with every angle and 
facet of her position; because if 
leadership fails, program fails. If 
a board member is not doing 
effective work in her field of 
activity, it adversely affects the 
whole program of the organiza- 
tion. It is important that every 
called person fulfill her duty one 
hundred per cent effectively. 

Take the problems you cannot 
solve or are uncertain about to 
the proper Priesthood authorities 
whose responsibility it is to be 
helpful and to give encourage- 
ment to the work of Relief 

I realize my talk, sisters, is 
mostly slanted to stakes and 



wards; however, it likewise ap- 
plies to missions, with their dis- 
tricts and branch Relief Society 
boards. I recognize, also, in some 
stakes, wards, mission districts 
and branches, sufficient experi- 
enced, qualified, capable leader- 
ship is not always available. You 
then must take and use the best 
material the good Lord has pro- 
vided and with teaching, train- 
ing, and spiritual motivation 
reach for the ideal organizational 
strength by application of the 
suggestions I have outlined to 
you. Unless we constantly work 
toward the ideal, it will never be 
achieved. There must be a good 
beginning, a proper follow- 
through with a productive train- 
ing program to build strength 
into every department of Relief 
Society work. Leaders in Relief 
Society must be personal, living 
examples of all the gospel and 
the Church stand for. 

Now in making this presenta- 
tion, sisters, I know that your 
organization is functioning well. 

You are rendering a tremendous 
service, not only to the women of 
the Church, but to all the mem- 
bership of the Church. I think you 
are a light to the people of the 
Church and to the people of the 
world in the things you do. But 
if it is possible to do better, to 
improve the work, to reach the 
people who are not receiving the 
advantages of Relief Society 
work, then it is your responsi- 
bility to do so. This work is im- 
portant; these are great days in 
which we live; much is expected 
of us, as the people of the Lord. 
I know that Relief Society can be 
counted upon to do its part 
effectively and efficiently and to 
organize and function well to 
carry out the principles, ideals, 
and the programs and activities 
of your organization in such a 
way that people will be blessed 
aid strengthened in faith and 
testimony. May God continue his 
blessings upon you in all that you 
do in this great Relief Society 
undertaking, I humbly pray in 
the name of Jesus Christ, Amen. 


Marilyn McMeen Miller 

Where gulls cry up, skies hurry the dawn, 

And floors of cities, dark beneath the shade 

Of trees, erupt; a day of days comes on 

A cartwheel of sun. And below, in promenade, 

Faces in a sea of men are aware 

That suddenly a set of spires high on this hill 

Touches the sky. And now that spires are there, 

Eyes in these faces should watch, and become still. . . . 

Wind-swept sea, and all the bridges out 
Beyond the span of man's mind have not known 
Of golden spires, such as these, to shout 
Such words of power, above a citadel of stone. 

If eyes of men perceive at all, they know the promise of the Lord: 
This stone is not a monument to peace, but to a sword. 








Venda Brown Castleherry 

Second Prize-winning Story 

Annual Relief Society 
Short Story Contest 


■ It seemed strange to me later 
that Mother's letter saying that 
she was coming to visit us should 
arrive the same day that I had an 
offer to go back to work at the 
dance studio. Ten years ago I 
had given up a promising career 
in dancing to marry Andy, and 
while I hadn't exactly regretted it 
— still there had been times when 
I wondered if my only talent was 
not for dancing. The demands of 
my children seemed endless, and 
the thought of a career where one 
need only practice to see results 
seemed like heaven to me! I had 
been feeling increasingly unsuc- 
cessful as a homemaker. 

Strange, I thought, reading 
Mother's letter again, that she 
should come just when I'm won- 
dering what to do — when I 
haven't even talked to Andy. . . . 

Mother had always come be- 
fore to help me wait out the last 

dragging days before a new baby, 
and to see me off to the hospital, 
Andy beside me, knowing that 
all would be well at home. After 
the first time when I returned 
from the hospital, Mother would 
be there, before Andy had the 
car stopped, to take the new 
baby, suede-soft blanketed, from 
my arms. 

"Let the others know how glad 
you are to see them before you 
introduce the new competition!" 
she would say. 

The house would be heavenly 
clean, my bedspread turned back 
invitingly. I would lie there hold- 
ing court like a queen, while my 
family "ooh-ed" and "aah-ed" 
and wonderingly touched the 
downy head and the wrinkled, 
pink, satin-soft feet of this, my 
newest production. Andy mar- 
velled each time at the strength 
in the tiny curled fists, and 


"pooh-poohed" the idea that new 
babies can't see! 

Soon there would be muted 
sounds of dishes in the kitchen, 
and Mother would lure the chil- 
dren away for lunch. Then Andy 
and I would have a quiet time to 
plan this new life — -in great de- 

"When she gets married," 
Andy said when we brought our 
first daughter home, "her hus- 
band had better be good to her, 
or he will have to settle with me." 

Mother could always tell when 
I was able to take over the new 
baby; not until I was over the 
spell of inexplicable crying that 
climaxed the "baby blues," and 
could bathe the new baby, and 
ward off the help of a toddler 
without shaking with nerves and 
weakness. Then she would bake 
a supply of cookies and Andy's 
favorite boiled raisin cake: she 

would defrost the refrigerator, 
clean the oven, change all of the 
sheets, wash and put away the 
laundry, and shampoo all of the 
children's hair — "to sort of give 
you a head-start," she would say. 
I would find the reins of my home 
slipping into my hands, and 
Mother would take off, saying 
she'd spoiled the new baby as 
much as she could in two weeks 
— now we'd have to take over the 

Daddy died when I was in high 
school, and the first year I was 
away at college Mother and a 
friend began putting on lecture 
and music programs. They caught 
on right away, are in demand 
constantly, and receive numerous 
letters from people whom their 
program has inspired. 

And then there's I, I thought. 
The biggest challenge in my day 
is trying to have the breakfast 



dishes washed before Andy gets 
home at night! 

Always before Mother had left 
her work to come when we 
needed her; this time she would 
be treated like a guest! I would 
get everything done up, so that 
she would not see that I was 
snowed under, and a failure! 

When Robert Burns made his 
poetic statement about the best- 
laid plans of mice and men, he 
must have had me in mind! Ellen, 
my two-year-old woke up fever- 
ish and sick two days before 
Mother was to arrive — and there 
went my plans for an orderly 
visit! I rocked Ellen, sang "Bye 
Baby Bunting" until I was 
hoarse, for she would let nobody 
else touch her. I watched her 
shallow breathing, the way her 
eyelids fluttered open as she 
slept. In spite of the doctor's 
reassurance and the antibiotics, 
I was sick with fear as I sponged 
the yellow curls back from her 
forehead. Watching a sick child 
like this, I always think of the 
pioneer mothers — no doctor — no 
antibiotics — no cold water even — 
and I wonder how it would be to 
have a child die, while you 
watched, helplessly! 

My feeling of relief and joy 
that Ellen's fever was gone, the 
morning Mother was to arrive, 
was followed by one of despair as 
I surveyed the state of the house- 
hold! There was time for only a 
quick once-over after Andy had 
left for the airport. 

Thank goodness for peanut 
butter and its (almost) complete 
protein! I thought, as I cleaned 
away the remains of meals the 
children had fixed for themselves. 
There was, of course, no baking 
done — no shopping either. 

'T wanted her to see me as a 
capable adult — maybe making a 
wise decision — not a failure 
abdicating because she can't cut 
the mustard," I said aloud as I 
scrubbed frantically at the bath- 
room bowl, and caught a glimpse 
of my stringy hair in the mirror. 
''What's the matter with me?" 

Andy arrived with Mother, a 
sack of hamburgers, and a gallon 
of root beer, to usher in what was 
actually a typical two weeks at 
our house, but which seemed 
pretty bad to me — looking at it 
as I thought Mother must be 

In spite of our rule that the 
children were not to eat in the 
living room, the rug and furni- 
ture were, somehow, spotted. In 
spite of Andy's and my knowl- 
edge of child psychology, Ellen 
still demanded — and got — her 
bottle. The pile of clothes to be 
ironed grew, in spite of the chil- 
dren's wearing un-ironed play 
clothes. There was sand every- 
where, from the constant trailing 
of children from the sand box to 
the bathroom — or to the refrig- 
erator for popsicles and punch. 
Each day I arose with the resolve 
to get ahead of my work, but it 
was like being on a treadmill, 
with the children's needs holding 
me back. When I had gained a 
little time, a crisis inevitably ate 
it up! 

The last day of Mother's visit 
the woman from the dance studio 
came to talk to me about going 
back to work. After she had left, 
I turned to Mother with a defiant 

"I don't care. Mother! You can 
see how we live! I can't manage — 
the children just take too much 
out of me — anyone could do 



better — I could hire somebody to 
fix decent meals, keep the house 
straight! I don't know what I do 
with my time. Oh, Mother, I 
wanted to do something creative 
with my life! I can't see anything 
ahead but this feeling of always 
being behind — nothing to show 
for what I do! I keep wondering 
if the children will remember me 
as a mother who couldn't cope." 

Mother was seated where she 
could look beyond me, out 
through the window. She said 
mildly now, "Turn around and 
look, dear. Don't they look happy 
and healthy?" 

I turned to see the yard full 
of children, swarming over the 
play equipment. 

*'Yes," I said, "and the ones 
whose mothers work look just as 
happy and healthy as mine!" 

Mother said thoughtfully, 
"There must be much their 
mothers miss, gone all day — 
things that come up — with chil- 
dren, teaching, rearing them — it 
is a long time — perhaps not in a 
lifetime — that we know how we 
have done." 

I could see that Mother was 
not going to advise me. 

Mother was busy at her type- 
writer late that afternoon. I al- 
most envied her, in there creating 
something to express herself, to 
give to the world. 

Andy and I left the children 
with a baby sitter and took 
Mother to the airport. I felt 
lonely as she waved to us from 
the doorway of the plane. I would 
miss her good company — and I 
was vaguely disappointed that 
she had not helped me decide 
about taking the job. 

Back home, I watched from the 

porch as the sitter walked the 
half block to her house. As I 
turned to go into the house, I 
saw a letter in the mailbox. It 
was from the dance studio. With- 
out opening it, I stuffed it into 
my pocket. 

I felt restless. I wished Mother 
had stayed another day — maybe 
we could have talked more about 
my going to work. I wandered 
into the guest room, and sudden- 
ly felt closer to Mother; the sweet 
scent of her cologne was there, 
the imprint of her hand, where 
she had fluffed the cushion in the 
chair. And propped against the 
dresser mirror was an envelope 
addressed to me. Ah, she hasn't 
forgotten! I thought. We had 
always left letters to each other 
when we had something special 
to say. I lay across the bed and 
opened it. It was long — this must 
have been what she was typing 
this afternoon. This is what she 
had written, and it was right from 
one heart to another: 

"... it is sweet to have a 
daughter, sweet to visit in her 
home, to see what a fine mother 
she is! It is the pay-off, believe 
me, for whatever it is that one 

"May I tell you a few of the 
countless memories of my visit — 
memories I take with me — and 
that give my life significance be- 
cause you are my daughter? 

" *I suppose you're mad at me!' 
I heard Chloe Ann say one day, 
when she had come from the store 
with treats for all of the children. 
*You told me to get something 
Ellen could eat — and I forgot she 
can't chew wax.' Y(^ hesitated a 
moment before answering her. 
*No-oo, I'm not mad at you. You 
made a mistake, but we don't 


get mad at people for making 
mistakes! We all make mistakes 
— Heavenly Father sent us here 
to learn not to make them — we 
are all learning — He is pleased 
when each mistake teaches us 
something! ' 

"Ellen's first summer out of 
doors could have been miserable 
— she was so afraid of 'bugs.' 
Her screams brought you on the 
run countless times — and then 
you made a project of helping 
her. You brought in a bright red 
box elder bug and put it on the 
window curtain. The children — 
especially wide-eyed Ellen — 
watched as you 'petted' him, and 
one by one, they found the cour- 
age to touch. The bug stayed 
there all day, with you picking 
Ellen up many times to look at 
his pretty color, his funny feelers, 
and the legs that were so tiny 
'they tickle little girls.' You told 
the children that the greatest 
scientists in the world could not 
make even a tiny bug like that 
— look how Heavenly Father had 
made the outside — tougher than 
any plastic. The next morning 
when you were dressing Ellen 
you playfully walked your fingers 
over her tummy, her legs and 
arms, saying, 'I'm a bug — I crawl 

on little girls and tickle them! 
What do you do when a bug 
crawls on you, little girl?' Soon 
Ellen would giggle and say 'I 
brush him off — like dis!' 

"Jimmy was having trouble 
with the truth. You listened 
quietly to one of his fantasies one 
day, and then said, 'Wouldn't it 
be funny if that really happened! 
Of course it didn't really happen, 
but it would make a good story; 
go on, write it all down, and 
name it 'A Story by James 
Beardsley'! But when you tell 
something, be sure to ask your- 
self if it is true — or if it is make- 
up. If it is make-up you must 
always say so, and then you won't 
forget which is the truth.' 

"I should have liked to have a 
moving picture of you baking 
cookies with eight pairs of hands 
helping you! I wondered if you 
were longing for the days when 
you had the kitchen to your 
efficient self! 

"Jeanie threw the checkers 
and board across the room when 
she had lost a game, and ran to 
her room crying. You followed 
and were gone for a long time. 
When she challenged me to a 
game the next day, I was appre- 
hensive when I saw she was going 



to lose. She wiped her eyes with 
the back of her hand as she 
played gamely on, and I am sure 
it was your words she spoke. 'It's 
only a game — it isn't fun when 
you get mad — everyone will still 
love you, even if you lose — that's 
the way it goes; someone wins, 
someone loses every time — next 
time maybe I'll be lucky!' I was 
so proud of her, as she swallowed 
hard — and challenged me to an- 
other game. 

"Watching television one night, 
the girls were dancing to the 
music, with stiff-legged, hopping 
steps. You were writing a shop- 
ping list, but you kicked off your 
shoes, joined the girls. 'Oh, let 
me dance with you!' you said. 
'That music just tells you to 
dance; doesn't it? I'm going to 
be a tree in the wind! See how the 
wind bends me — first to one side, 
slowly — then around and around 
my trunk — then almost to the 
ground. . . .' It was beautiful to 
see — their first consciously grace- 
ful movements! 

"Oh, Patricia, there are too 
many precious memories! I don't 
know where to stop recalling 
them! I wish you could see your 
days as I do — so very blessed! 

"These are the difficult days — 
when you feel as if you are pulled 
and divided in a thousand direc- 
tions, until there is nothing of 
you left! Days of purposeful con- 
fusion, when your home is a 
laboratory — a studio — where 
children are being shaped into 
men and women. Later, when 
they are gone, your house will be 
orderly — but it will be a museum 
of memories — not a dynamic 
laboratory where memories are 
being made! 

"You said you had wanted to 
do something creative with your 

life. What could be more crea- 
tive than what you are doing? To 
be the co-creator of a human 
being! To be the creative artist — 
to shape your creation into the 
most universally significant work 
of art — a good man! What is 
working with marble, or paint, 
or words, or sounds — or move- 
ment — compared with working 
with eternal, infinite souls? You 
are discouraged because you do 
not see your creation finished be- 
fore your eyes — your genius 
credited by a signature; how 
could this be — when a soul is 
forever changing, developing — is 
never finished! Our Heavenly 
Father, who sees the end from 
the beginning, does not, I am 
sure, see your work as you see 
it now. . . ." 

I could not read the end of 
Mother's letter. I lay, face down, 
crying into the bedspread. "Oh, 
Mother — you're still making me 
grow up — You always did make 
me feel so — so big — better than 
myself — so valuable, that I never 
could go back to too easy things 
— " I felt stronger, not so pushed 
— as if there might be a patterned 
purpose to the crazy kaleidoscope 
of my life. 

I pulled the curtain aside, 
looked out at the play equipment 
abandoned in the moonlight. 
"Laboratory!" I mused to myself. 
"Climb, stretch, yell, quarrel, 
dig, learn!" 

I got up, went into the hall, 
saw the crookedly lettered sign 
on my big girls' door: "Kids — 
stay out!!! Mommy this doesn't 
mean you." I nodded my head. 
"Studio. Women being fash- 

I opened my boys' door. There 
they were, asleep on the floor, a 
quilt under them, their dog be- 



tween them! I had told them 
their dog was not to sleep in their 
bed. But of course— he would be 
lonely on the floor by himself! 
"Do not disturb!" I said to my- 
self. "Men undergoing creation — 
good men — strong men — com- 
passionate men." 

The little girls' room was a 
shambles. They had played them- 
selves into exhaustion, and then 
had fallen asleep at opposite ends 
of one bed. Tied to the bed by a 
ribbon sash, the rocking horse 
was draped with all the clean 
play clothes he could hold. Their 
bedtime cookies had been moist- 
ened with water and portioned 
out on play dishes, with crumbs 
and water everywhere. How does 
a baby sitter turn into a mother, 
with an ear for such bedtime hi- 

jinx? I wondered, as I went for a 

"Hey, stop prowling and come 
keep me company!" Andy called 
from the living room, and I joined 
him there, my feet curled under 
me, his arm holding me snug be- 
side him on the couch. The letter 
from the dance studio, still in 
my pocket, poked me. I pulled it 
out and tore it up. 

"What are you tearing up, 
sweetie?" Andy asked, as I ripped 
across a scrap that said "If we do 
not receive an answer within ten 
days. . . ." 

"Oh, it's an offer this company 
made me — " I said, " — as a 
matter of fact, a pretty good 
offer! But suddenly tonight this 
doesn't seem like the time for 
it, at all!" 

Venda Brown Castleberry, Ucon, Idaho, author of "A Time to Every Purpose," 
second prize-winning story, was awarded first prize in the contest last year. She 
speaks of her writing efforts as being "delayed." 

"I received a Bachelor of Arts Degree, in May 1965, from Brigham Young 
University, where I had enrolled after being out of high school for thirty-one years. 
I am currently teaching English at Bonneville High School in Idaho Falls, Idaho. 

"At the University my stories were published by the Universe and the Wye 
Magazine, of which I was short story editor in 1964. During the past year I have 
tried my hand at television and motion picture writing, in collaboration with 
Melba Taylor Gleave. (Mrs. Gleave has been published in The Relief Society Mag- 
azine also.) One of our scripts is being considered favorably by the Brigham 
Young University Motion Picture Department, and we have some teleplays in the 
hands of an agent in Hollywood. I continue to submit short stories to magazines, 
and, occasionally, find favor. I am working on a novel about Latter-day Saint 
colonization in Montana in the early 1920's. 

"I have a son Lloyd and a daughter Charline (Mrs. Herbert Mote), and ten 
grandchildren, who all join me in the increasing excitement about my delayed 
writing efforts." 


Eleanor W. Schow 

A drooping flag 
Weeps at half-mast; 
Our hearts are torn 
But our fears are past. 




■ Self-expression through music 
is afforded in ReHef Society 
through congregational singing, 
Singing Mothers choruses, ac- 
companying, performance of pre- 
ludes, interludes, and postludes, 
and through teaching and con- 

Hymn singing by the congrega- 
tion is one of the most common, 
yet one of the very essential 
music activities in our Church 
service. This means of expression, 
in which all may take part, should 
at all times be thoughtful, sin- 
cere, and meaningful; and those 
participating should experience a 
feeling of reverence, devotion, 
and joy. 


The practice periods are for 
the purpose of teaching and learn- 
ing new hymns and songs, or for 
perfecting the rendition of those 
with which the members are al- 
ready familiar. Music leaders 
should keep in mind the values 
that are to be derived from well- 
planned practice periods. Besides 
teaching new songs to increase 
the repertoire, singing helps to 
strengthen the voices of Relief 
Society women and makes them 
more flexible and responsive. It 
aids in the development of more 
self-confidence and ease when 
singing with others. Just to sing 
another hymn without some def- 
inite planning for its betterment 
is not a profitable practice period. 

The success of congregational 
singing, as well as that of the 

Florence Jepperson Madsen 

Member, General 

Board of Relief Society 

[Address delivered in the Music 
Department of the Relief 
Society Annual General Conference, 
September 30, 1965] 

Singing Mothers, is largely de- 
pendent upon the efficiency and 
personality of the music leaders. 
Besides adequately preparing the 
materials that are to be pre- 
sented, the conductor and ac- 
companist should always go 
before their audience, or organ- 
ization, radiating a feeling of 
warmth and friendliness. Such an 
atmosphere puts people at ease, 
and they respond in like manner. 
When introducing a new hymn 
or song: 

1. Make brief mention of author 
and composer. (Data concerning their 
lives and works may be found in 
Stories of Our Mormon Hymns, by J. 
Spencer Cornvi^all, Deseret Book 
Company, Salt Lake City, Utah) 

2. Study text of hymn — its philoso- 
phy, beauty, and strength. 

3. Observe melody and harmonies. 
(The composer Haydn said: "It is 
the melody which is the charm of 

4. Analyze rhythm and tempo. 

5. Hum melody. 

6. Sing softly with "oo" and "oh." 

7. Sing words. (If necessary, cor- 
rect pronunciation, notes, or rhythm.) 

This same procedure, with the 
inclusion of part rehearsals, may 
be followed in teaching new songs 
to the Singing Mothers. 

The book. Music Leadership 
in The Relief Society y published 
by The General Board of Relief 
Society, will prove very helpful to 
music leaders. For instance, in 
Chapter Seven, details concern- 
ing interpretation are given. 

Knowing in advance, as we do, 
the subjects that are to be pre- 



sented in Relief Society during 
the year, it should be compara- 
tively easy to select hymns and 
vocal and instrumental music 
that will enhance and strengthen 
the various lessons to be taught. 
The hymns should be sung in 
keys of the medium range of 
voice, and, if needed, the music 
should be transposed to meet this 
need. Occasionally, the hymns in 
the male section of the hymn 
book are printed in lower keys, 
and accompanists can use these. 
A transposed copy of a hymn is 
needed only by the accompanist. 


The way in which the conduc- 
tor conducts definitely influences 
those whom she leads. It should 
always be made a delightful and 
happy experience. 

Conductors should often check 
their conducting to make sure 
that eccentricities are not creep- 
ing into their work. Practicing 
before a mirror will reveal little 
variations and weaknesses in the 
conducting of which one may not 
be conscious. It also enables a 
conductor to see herself as others 
see her. When conducting, bodily 
movements are often too much in 
evidence, as is also the constant 
use of the hand and arm that is 
not wielding the baton. This 
makes conducting look laborious 
when it should be just the reverse 
— a graceful, meaningful art. 

One of the faults quite often 
observed, among both inexperi- 
enced and experienced conduc- 
tors, is that of not conducting 
the long notes in a composition, 
but instead, just holding the arm 
out motionless and ceasing to 
conduct the baton pattern. This 
disrupts the natural flow of the 

rhythm and creates a feeling of 
uncertainty among the perform- 
ers as to what the exact length 
of the tone will be. Conducting 
without a baton is generally re- 
sponsible for this inartistic habit. 
Let us, then, remember that all 
long notes are to be conducted, 
with the exception of the end 
note of a verse or the final note 
of a composition. However, if the 
singing ends, and the accompan- 
ist still has measures to play, the 
conductor uses the free hand to 
stop the singers and goes right 
on conducting the measures for 
the accompanist until the very 
end of the composition. 

Just as the singers are part of 
the composition from the very 
first note that is played or sung, 
just so are they part of the com- 
position until the very last note 
of it is finished. 

Another suggestion, if followed, 
that will increase the efficiency of 
the conductor is that of always 
having a music stand directly in 
front of her on which to place the 
hymn book or copy of music. It 
should be arranged at a con- 
venient height so that the con- 
ducting can be done effectively 
above it. In this way the hand, 
that would otherwise have to 
hold the music, is free, and can 
be used to suggest changes in 
volume, variations in rhythm, 
tempo, and style; and, by holding 
the index finger up, it can in- 
dicate the length of a tone that is 
being sustained. This free hand, 
which is called "the musician," 
is also used for the purpose of 
bringing in or releasing the vocal 
or instrumental parts in a com- 
position. Therefore, it is most 
important in the artistic inter- 
pretation of a musical number. 



If well-trained, this hand has a also be of value to the Relief 

distinctive method of communi- Society organization and to the 

cation between the conductor Church. The activity will chal- 

and the performers. lenge the music leaders and, at 

It is hoped that all music lead- ^^e same time, enlarge their 

ers will expand their activities capacity and understandmg of 

beyond just that of conducting ^^^^ noble art. 

congregational singing and ob- Music offers many avenues for 

serving the practice period. Our self-expression. Choose from these 

sisters should have the oppor- offenngs and become more pre- 

tunity of progressing musically, P^^^^ in your efforts to serve the 

and be afforded the privilege and Church. 

i/ ,1 1 XT j^ 1 -11 I will prepare myself and then when 

Mothers chorus. Not alone will ^n opportunity comes along, I will be 

this enlarge their appreciation prepared for it. 

and scope of music, but it will — Abraham Lincoln 


Vida D. Brinton 

H It was a beautiful autumn morning. We were up early, and at the temple 
at 6:45 A.M. My assignment that morning was at the entrance of the ladies 
cloak room. What a strategic place to see all the pageantry of happiness and 
love and joy that comes through temple work! And what a place for love and 

So many who come to the temple need someone to rejoice with them be- 
cause of the privilege of just being in the temple. 

First came a family to be sealed, the parents and two beautiful teenage 
daughters. The girls had just returned from a trip in the Northwest. Through 
the girls' interest in the Church, they had interested their parents, and the 
parents had become active after years of inactivity. While the girls were away 
the parents had gone to the temple, then wired the girls, and the girls responded 
with beautiful roses. Now they were there together. I do not think I have ever 
seen more joy and happiness than was evident in those girls and their parents. 

Then the beautiful brides and their bridegrooms, there for the most sacred 
moment of their lives. And each couple made to feel that their marriage was 
the most important one of the day. With the Priesthood, chastity, temple 
marriage, prayer, and all the other teachings the gospel gives, what a wonderful 
foundation on which to build a perfect marriage. 

Missionaries, there for the first time, with faith and courage, ready to go 
out into the unknown world, their dreams of a lifetime ready to be realized. 
With these young missionaries, both men and women, I think we see the most 
sincere and deepest humility possible. And with them come the happy parents. 
Then four returned missionaries going to the temple before going back to 
college which they left to go on their missions. What a glorious way for young 
men to spend their vacation! 

That evening I had the feeling that I would just like to put my arms 
around each of those people who entered the temple that day, for I think I saw 
more happiness and joy that day than many see in a lifetime. 




'^x Woman's 


Ramona W. Cannon 

Jessie Evans Smith, wife of President 
Joseph Fielding Smith, of the First 
Presidency of The Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints, has recently 
recorded a series of hymns "Sermons 
in Song." The selection is beautifully 
balanced, beginning with a morning 
prayer, continuing with hymns illustrat- 
ing some of life's problems and satis- 
factions, and concluding with a 
benediction. "Mrs. Smith's intonation is 
outstanding. . . . The rich and spiritual 
conviction of her voice makes her solos 
impart an impression of classical 
grace." Roy M. Darley, Tabernacle 
organist, is accompanist for the re- 

Margaret Cousins, former managing 
editor of McCalls Magazine, and her- 
self a noted writer, is now book editor 
for Doubleday and Company. She is 
author of We Were There at the Battle 
of the Alamo, and she collaborated 
with Margaret Truman Daniels on her 
autobiography Souvenir. 

Santha Rama Rau, eminent author and 
world traveler, is a native of India. 
She was educated in England and the 
United States, graduating from Welles- 
ley College. Her best known book Home 
to India describes her homecoming and 
her point of view after years abroad. 

Dr. Elizabeth McSherry, twenty-six years 
old, is a resident pediatrician at New 
York's great Babies Hospital. Hers is 
one of the most difficult and most 
sought after training posts in medicine. 
She was one of thirteen women in a 
class of 130 medical students at 
Columbia University. 

Vesta N. Fairbairn, a contributor to 
The Relief Society Magazine, and well- 
known California poet, critic, and 
teacher, is president of the California 
Writers Guild. Mrs. Fairbairn receives 
much honor and distinction in this 
position, following such eminent writers 
as Lee Shippey, Allan Vaughan Elston, 
Irving Stone, and Dr. L. E. Nelson. For 
more than thirty years Robert Frost was 
honorary president of the Guild, and 
served in that capacity until his recent 

Mrs. Lee Breedlove, wife of Craig 
Breedlove, famous speed racing enthu- 
siast, and mother of five children, in 
October 1965, won the women's inter- 
national land speed record on the Salt 
Flats near Salt Lake City, Utah. She 
drove her husband's jet racer at an 
average speed of 308.56 m.p.h. 

Margaret Mead, anthropologist and 
author of many scientific works, has 
written a new volume called The 
Family, describing many of the basic 
elements which comprise this basic 
unit of society. Ken Heyman supplied 
the illustrative pictures, representing 
families in forty-eight countries. 

Mrs. Robert (Allegra) Snyder is the 

woman part of a man-and-wife team 
who have written, directed, and pro- 
duced a film in color, called "Bayanl- 
han," for a Philippine dance company. 
It blends rituals, customs, and tradi- 
tions of the Philippine people. Mrs. 
Snyder has performed and choreo- 
graphed in top-level productions, and 
she teaches dance education through 



A Valentine for the Visiting Teachers 

■ In this season of remembrance, when expressions of love and 
solicitude are so freely given and so gratefully received, it is well 
that we consider with thoughtfulness and gratitude our blessings as 
women and as Relief Society sisters. From continent to continent, 
the world around, there are women who go as companions in solici- 
tude, from door to door, giving their offerings of encouragement and 
love, "strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, 
unto all patience . . . with joy fulness; giving thanks unto the Father, 
which hath made us meet to be partakers of the inheritance of the 
saints in light" (Col 1: 11-12.) 

The busy young mother in her home, the woman in her middle 
years, who may be lonely at times, the elderly sisters who are not able 
to leave their homes — women blessed with material comforts, and 
those who are in stringent circumstances, all are given the precious 
balm of remembrance and loving concern. 

So it is for every woman of the sisterhood — she does not need to 
bear her burdens nor solve her problems alone. The presence of the 
visiting teachers reminds her that she is part of a world-wide organi- 
zation, that thousands stand with her and support and strengthen 
her. Around her, and with her, there is the strength of many kind 
voices and many fervent prayers. In her life and in her home there is 
the blessed pattern and direction of those who are messengers of the 
gospel, for the visiting teachers of Rehef Society are emissaries of 
the only Priesthood-directed organization of women estabHshed by 
divine inspiration by a Prophet of God. 

The visiting teachers carry with them the heritage of the 
women of Nauvoo who walked down to the river's edge to welcome 
and to assist the strangers who had come to a new land. The sisters 

Volume 53 

■ebruary 1966 Number 

• Belle S. Spafford, President 

• Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 

• Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor] 

• Hulda P. Young, Secretary-Treasurerj 

who come to our doors have inherited that feeUng of helpfubiess and 
dear concern which motivated those who ministered so kindly to their 
sisters during the long journey to the West; they are spiritual rela- 
tives of the pioneer women who traveled horseback or in wagons or 
buggies or in bob sleighs to carry their message of mercy. 

The sisters who walked the miles of country roads, through 
hills and in lonely places, have bequeathed to our present-day visit- 
ing teachers their tender hearts and their ministering hands. "And 
above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfect- 
ness ... to the which also ye are called in one body . . ." (Col. 3: 

The visiting teachers are obeying the command to visit the fold 
and the flock and to remind all the sisters that they are beloved 
women in an organization so large and so blessed that all may be 
encompassed in a circle of everlasting spiritual strength and growth 
as they seek together the fulfillment of their heritage and their 

There may be only a few words said when the visiting teachers 
come to our homes, the time of communication may be brief, but the 
days that follow will be gladdened by the message of faith and 
protected by the concern and the love of the world-wide sisterhood, 
"that their hearts might be comforted, being knit together in love" 
(Col. 2:2). 

In this season when greetings of love and good will are exchanged, 
and messages of affection are given and received, let all of us who 
have been privileged to partake of the spirit of the visiting teachers 
the whole year through, give to them our sincere words of gratitude. 
From full hearts, let us give a valentine to the visiting teachers. 

— V.P.C. 

Anna B. Hart 
Edith S. Elirott 
Florence J. Madsen 
Leone G. Layton 
Blanche B. Stoddard 
Evon W. Peterson 
Aleine M. Young 
Josie B. Bay 
Alberta H. Christensen 
Mildred B. Eyring 
Edith P. Backman 
WInniefred S. Manwaring 

EIna P. Haymond 
Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Weattha S. Mendenhail 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Rosell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L Wilkinson 
Irene W. Buehner 

Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Irene C. Lloyd 
Anne R. Gledhiil 
Belva B. Ashton 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darlene C. Dedekind 

Cleone R. Eccles 
Edythe K. Watson 
Ellen N. Barnes 
Kathryn S. Gilbert 
Verda F. Burton 
Myrtle R. Olson 
Alice C. Smith 
Lucile P. Peterson 
Elaine B. Curtis 


Gladys Sessions Boyer 

December 14, 1899 — December 8, 1965 

Gladys Sessions Boyer, former member of the General Board of Relief 
Society, passed away at her home in Salt Lake City, Utah, December 
8, 1965. She had served in teaching and executive positions in the 
Church for many years. She was counselor and later president of 
Kolob Stake Relief Society. During the time that her husband served 
as president of the London Temple, Sister Boyer acted as matron, 
and while Brother Boyer was president of the British Mission, Sister 
Boyer directed Relief Society activities in that mission. As a member 
of the General Board, from 1953 to 1958, Sister Boyer served on 
many committees and special programs, particularly the Work Meeting 
and Short Story and Poem Contest Committees. She was General 
Board representative for many years on community sponsored or- 

She was greatly loved by her many friends and her associates, as 
a gracious woman, kind and sympathetic. She will be long remembered 
for her words of encouragement and counsel, and for her life of de- 
voted service to the Church and to her family and friends. 

The General Board of Relief Society and all who have known and 
loved Sister Boyer extend heartfelt sympathy to Brother Boyer and the 
four sons and one daughter, and to all the family. May their lives 
continue to be blessed by the memory and the teachings of their lovely 
wife and mother. 

;3Ci\vvvvTrn'iinaTr s ' rrn ' r vsvr ^ t finnnnrB'B" » Tr»TBTnnnn 

otes to the Field 

AjjLftJULajLajuL«JULaAaAJUUUUUJX»JUL».«.8.B.a.« B a « a 

The Relief Society Emblem 

The emblem of the sego Hly as used by ReHef Society on its pins, 
bracelets, and necklaces was copyrighted in 1958 jor the exclusive 
use of Relief Society. Although it may be reproduced and used on 
programs for Relief Society gatherings, approval is not given for its 
use by individuals on any personal publications, music, printed pro- 
grams, etc. 


Let's Conquer 
Heart Disease 

Education Is a Help 

The American Heart Association 

Heart and circulatory diseases account for more deaths than all 
other causes combined. Dr. Paul Dudley White has called heart 
disease the modern American epidemic. All heart authorities recog- 
nize it as a world-wide problem and have set out to do something 
about it. Diseases of the heart and blood vessels do not respect race, 
age, or nationality. 

Research is the basic program for discovering causes and treat- 
ment of heart ailments. More progress has been made in this field 
in the past fifteen years than in all previous history. We know that 
heart disease does not have to be fatal. It can be prevented. It can 
be treated. In some cases it can be cured. 

Before benefits can be realized from research, the medical pro- 
fession must be educated. Millions of heart dollars contributed by 
generous people are used to publish the latest cardiovascular in- 
formation. The American Heart Association distributes the Heart 
Bulletin, Modem Concepts of Cardiovascular Disease and the AHA 
Newsletter. Heart Associations in other countries also publish bul- 
letins and newsletters for the profession. State and national medical 
societies also distribute the latest heart research information. 

Public education is the other important phase of this program. 
Thousands of pamphlets are distributed to inform children and 
adults about heart disease. Thus fear is replaced with understanding. 
The newspapers, radio, and TV contribute immensely through free 
space and time. Doctors, nurses, and scientists volunteer for speak- 
ing assignments at heart programs. 

"For Advice About Your Heart, Ask Your Doctor; For Informa- 
tion, Ask Your Heart Association." This is a wise rule for the public 
to follow. 

Millions of people support the Heart Fund by donating generously 
of their time and money for life-saving programs. 

Ask What You Can Do! 


Relief Society Is for All the Sisters 

Peggy Petersen Stephens 

■ To me for years, Relief Society was only a reason that my mother 
couldn't tend my children Tuesday mornings. It was a place for 
elderly ladies to go when their housework was done. It was the 
group I would join when my hair was gray, and I was too old to ski. 

Then, last October, in the excitement of the new Home Teaching 
Program, my father, who never asks anything of me, asked me to 
go to Relief Society. Other people had asked me to go previously — 
all women whom I liked and admired — and I always smiled and 
said that I would. I intended to go, too. But not until I was much, 
much more ''mature." There were too many fun things to do — 
classes to take, things to learn to make. And I wasn't ready to 
give up my youth yet. 

But with January 1965, came the new program, and I resolved 
to go to Relief Society. The first lesson, discussing the Doctrine 
and Covenants, stimulated me in a religious way, and intellectually 
as well. The material was slanted to the feminine viewpoint — much 
more appealing and interesting to me than the material I had waded 
through heretofore. I learned about courageous women who had 
helped their men build the Church in the early days. I felt important, 
vital, glad to accept my role as a woman. 

The following week involved missing a brunch, which I very much 
wanted to attend. The lesson would have to be awfully good to 
make up for that. And it was. It showed me all kinds of tools to 
get a Home Evening off the ground. It answered the questions I 
hadn't wanted to ask, and replaced doubt with enthusiasm. The 
material applied to all families and gave me insight into the problems 
of others. 

Now I am carrying on my own private campaign to bring a few 
of my friends to Relief Society. I am trying to change the image. 
They say they're not old enough, that it would be admitting defeat, 
giving in. 

And I find myself telling them what others told me — without 
success. Too many of us limit our friends to people just like ourselves 
— the same age, the same interests, the same background, the same 
likes and dislikes. We become narrow, a carbon copy of our friends. 
At Relief Society we find a variety of ages and interests, a host of 
women with stimulating ideas, wide experiences. I want to know 
what they know, hear their thoughts, learn how they grew up, how 
they reared their children, how they maintain their freshness and 

And the classwork offers some of the material I wanted to take 
in college, and just didn't have the time. I am thinking again. Relief 
Society has given me great ideas to dwell on while I am scrubbing 
my floor. 

I pray that in some way we will be able to bring the young women 
into our groups and add richness and knowledge to each of their 
homes through Relief Society. 


A Valentine for Mother 

Kathryn E. Franks 

■ I must have been nine or ten, 
and I remember a February 
storm had just left the world out- 
side snowy white. On the trees 
and fences the snow had drifted 
in unusual designs. In my own 
small bedroom the radiator hissed 
out in jerky sputters. 

I was hiding in my bedroom 
working on a fancy valentine for 
my mother. I had heavy red 
paper, real lace, white paper 
doilies, red ribbon, and a won- 
derful idea for mother's valentine. 

I was the eldest, and it was 
important to me that mine would 
be the prettiest one my mother 
would receive. 

The red heart was cut and the 
white lace nearly around the 
edge when my little sister Sara, 
who was four, came skipping into 
my room. She was trying to cut 
valentines from a make-it-your- 
self book. 

"Oooh," Sara exclaimed when 

she saw what I was doing. "That 
is going to be beautiful! May I 
have some of your lace? I'm mak- 
ing a valentine for mother, too." 

"No," I answered. "I'm busy. 
Don't bother me." 

Sara looked disappointed. She 
stepped back. Without saying 
anything, she left the room. 

After all, I remember thinking, 
if I give her all my ideas, her val- 
entine will be as nice as mine. 

Another few inches of lace were 
pasted around the heart when my 
younger brother, Billy, came 
bursting into my room. He had 
come home from school. "Look, 
Sis," he said eagerly, "we're 
making these valentine nut cups 
for our mothers. I goofed. Mine 
are all messed up. Will you help 
me fix them?" 

I knew then that if they were 
finished correctly they would be 
darling. They would make my 
valentine look pretty simple! 



"No," I scolded, tossing the cups 
at him. "I'm not going to have 
time to finish my own." 

"All right," Billy said. "I'll 
take some of this lace and fix 
them myself." 

I snatched away the lace and 
pushed him from the room. I was 
surprised when I saw mother 
nearby, putting away clothes in 
the hall closet. I was sure she 
hadn't seen inside, but I was cer- 
tain she overheard all the nasty 
things I'd said. Her face looked 

At bedtime I carefully placed 
all the trimmings with the partly 
made valentine in a big box, 
ready for school the next day. 
Mrs. Rodgers, our teacher, had 
promised us that we could work 
on our valentines the next after- 
noon during our art period. 

I remember how excited I was 
when it was time to clear our 
desks and start to work. I wanted 
to finish the outside of mine, so 
I could start thinking of a special 
verse. It had to be ready for the 
next morning, Valentine's Day. 

As Miss Rodgers handed out 
the red paper and the trimmings, 
the children crowded around my 
desk. "Look!" they exclaimed. 
"It's going to look just like a 
store valentine." Miss Rodgers 
stopped to admire it. She compli- 
mented me on my idea. 

I was certain then . . . this was 
going to be the nicest valentine 
my mother had ever received. 

The children were asked to 
take their seats quickly. Miss 
Rodgers stood in front of the 
class and began her cutting in- 
structions. First, we were to fold 
the red sheet and cut the heart. 

"You know," she told us chil- 
dren, "it doesn't matter how you 
plan your design, or if there is 

any design on the front at all. 
It's the message inside that 
counts. The words 'I love you' are 
what matters, really. Your moth- 
er knows by your actions how 
much you love her." 

Miss Rodgers said other things 
about the real meaning of Valen- 
tine's Day, but I couldn't watch 
her any longer, or listen to what 
she was saying. I think I gazed 
down a long time at my valen- 
tine. I fingered it slightly. I was 
looking at the valentine, but as 
a child, I was seeing myself quite 
clearly. I'd forgotten, I guess, 
what I was going to write inside. 
My valentine didn't look pretty 
to me anymore. I placed it back 
in the box. I decided to work on 
it after school. I was no longer in 
the mood. There were some 
things I wanted to do before I 
finished my mother's valentine. 

I hurried home after school. I 
found Sara and asked her into 
my room. I took her wrinkled 
book and showed her how to cut 
the hearts out straight. I tried to 
be patient while her small hands 
cut crookedly. 

Mother knocked on my door 
to inform me my friend was there 
to play. I told her I'd be out 
later, after I finished helping 

When Billy came home I sent 
him to wash his hands so we could 
work on his nut cups, I showed 
him how to paste the small red 
paper hearts on the outside and 
trim the tops with lace. "As soon 
as we finish," I told Billy, "we'll 
take our allowance and you can 
bike to the store for some tiny 
red hearts and some assorted 
nuts. We'll fill them and have the 
cups ready for tomorrow." 

Billy was delighted with the 
idea. It felt good to be the eldest. 



"They look swell, Sis. Thanks for 
helping me." Then he scooted out 
of the room with the money to go 
to the store. 

That evening I put Sara to bed 
and read her a story. I dried the 
dishes before going to my room 
to begin my school work. First, I 
tried to think of a good verse for 
mother's valentine, but I was too 
sleepy. I couldn't think. I remem- 
ber how confidently I put it aside 
until the next morning. I turned 
out the lights and slipped under 
the covers. 

I overslept the next morning. 
When I woke up I heard Billy 
and Sara in the hallway already 
giving mother their valentines. 

I can feel it now, how near 
tears I was. Hastily I pulled out 

the fancy, unfinished valentine 
from the box. I scrambled for the 
paste and lace ... a verse. There 
wasn't time. I had to dress or I'd 
miss the school bus. All I could 
do was open the valentine and 
write in my best handwriting, "I 
love you. Mother," and sign my 

Funny thing about mothers 
. . . there was a proud smile on 
her face when I handed it to her, 
like a secret message between us. 

I think she loved that valentine 
more than any I ever made, or 
any I ever bought her afterwards. 

How am I sure? Perhaps I 
wasn't, not until I became a 
mother and today I received my 
first, one such valentine! 


Kathryn Kay 

"You are courageous," 
People tell me, 

You are brave and valiant, too." 
Which, though vastly complimentary 
Is not absolutely true, 
For I think perhaps my pillow 
Knows me better than most folk . . . 
It thinks me more a weeping willow 
Than a sturdy oak! 


Olive W. Burt 

Now let the messages of love be spoken. 

Let no one hesitate to say the word, 

To send the flower, or verse, or some small token 

That gives his love a voice that can be heard. 

For hate is vocal. Hate sends its hurtful message 
Straight to the anguished heart that must give heed; 
And lust and greed are noisy and derisive — 
Into the mangled air they shriek their creed. 

But love speaks softly, and is often silent. 
Trusting frail threads of thought too swiftly broken. 
So in this day when much is mad and violent 
Let love's sane messages be clearly spoken. 



Clara Lester 

The banks are gray with morning. 

Willows trail their tresses, 

While darting minnows 

Comb waves of blue-green water. 

I watch rain kernels 

Stir the river to boiling — 

His river, 

This crooked thing 

Connecting sea and mountain. 

I sat cross-legged in the place of memory. 

And watched a small boy play, 

Yesterday's child. 

The rain was here, even then, 

Chasing the retreat of pink toes, 

As we ran to the cabin. 

Splashing through soggy sand-beds, 

We gathered rocks and fed the river. 

Time wrapped us tight together, 

Through the seasons 

Of a thousand yesterdays. 

Velvet banks are blue with evening. 

The willows weep, 

And happy waters rhythmically respond. 

Another curl of fish sperm rushes past, 

But the rain is quieter now. 

The dream of summer is near. 

And the knowledge 

That you will come. 

My son. 

Who gathered rocks of wisdom, 

To feed God's sheep on distant shores, 

It will be good to see you, 

Spanning the river mud, 

Below the puffs of spider-clouds 

That spindle the sky. 

Whistling, you will wade. 

As day ripples out; 

Until the rain hisses 

At your heels. 

Then you will charge through the currents 

To meet me. 

And we will stand again, 

Coiled into the hair of dusk, 

Along the sand-bars. 

Of rain river. 

inside and out 


Vesta Nickerson Fairbairn 

Not brick afid plaster, studding, tile, and stone, 
Nor floor and roof and walls — not these alone 
We buy. Nor is it only land we own. 

Home is the heart of all our days and nights 

Where love provides security, unites 

Us with the bonds of sorrows and delights. 

This house becomes a sanctuary where 

Togetherness enriches, where we share 

Our hearthfire's warmth, our love, the strength of prayer. 



Rhubarb Reminds Me 

Genevieve Van Wagenen 

■ Whenever I see a rhubarb plant with its large, thick-veined leaves, 
I always recall the thrift and frugality practiced and taught by the 

I could recall a happy childhood and the fun we youngsters had, 
and the things we made from the rhubarb leaves; but I don*t — 
pioneer frugality looms more important — ^more memorable. 

My parents always had several clumps of rhubarb growing in our 
yard. My sisters and I loved the tart goodness. In the spring, we 
could hardly wait for it to mature. We would pull ourselves a stick 
of rhubarb, wash it, sprinkle it with salt, and chew away. (It makes 
my mouth pucker now, just to think of it.) 

As children, we also enjoyed creating "make-believe" hats from 
the large rippled leaves. The shapely rhubarb leaves were very adapt- 
able for hats. We trimmed the hats with sprigs of lilacs, bridal wreath, 
tulips, and pansies, fresh from the garden. We fastened the flowers 
to the leaves with toothpicks. We were real creative with our jaunty 
spring bonnets. Each one tried to outdo the others. Our imaginations 
ran wild. Maybe we created a bouncy "Gay Ninety" bonnet, a perky 
sailor, or, perhaps, a peaked clown hat. We admired and sometimes 



laughed at our creations. When finished, we placed the hats atop 
our curls, at just the right angle. There was quite an art to 
balancing them. Then we were ready for the fashion parade. Into 
the house we marched. Mother beamed her approval. On one such 
occasion, mother said, "You don't know how lucky you girls are. 
If you had been my friend Ella, you couldn't have had a rhubarb hat." 

"Why not?" we queried. 

Mother looked thoughtful for a moment. We gathered round. When 
mother looked and sounded that way, she usually let a treasure fall, 
and we all wanted to be near to catch it. 

"When I was about ten or twelve years of age," mother began, 
"I had a friend named Ella Williams. Ella's mother was a widow. 
Her husband had died and left her with the responsibility of pro- 
viding for five small children. It was a real struggle for Mrs. Williams, 
for she also had to support and care for her aged father, who was 
blind. They were poor, very poor," mother said, shaking her head 
sympathetically. "Women didn't work outside the home much in 
those days. Work wasn't available, as it is today. But the family was 
willing to work. They accepted any kind of work or job that was 
offered them. She took in washings and ironing. She scrubbed the 
clothes by hand, on a washboard. She always looked tired. 

"One day," mother continued, "my father pulled a large armful 
of rhubarb and told me to take it and give it to Mrs. Williams. My 
father was always mindful of the needy," she spoke impressively. 
"He always shared with the poor. You see, when my father was only 
thirteen years old, he walked across the plains — most of the way 
barefooted. The pioneers endured many hardships and difficulties. 
He knew what it meant to be hungry and cold. 

"Anyway," she said, picking up the story, "I took the rhubarb to 
Ella's mother. She was so grateful to have it. I stayed to play awhile 
with Ella. I was real surprised when Mrs. Williams began preparing 
the rhubarb. She didn't cut off the leaf and lay it to one side to be 
discarded, as my mother always did. Each large vein in the leaf 
was carefully cut out and saved. She didn't waste a bit that was 

"You mean they ate the veins, too?" we grimaced in surprise. 

"That's exactly what they did. Wasn't she clever and courageous?" 

"I think it was silly," said six-year-old Bess. 

"I do, too," said Afton. 

"You think it was silly?" the tone of mother's voice indicated 
disappointment at their lack of understanding. "That's because you 
have never been hungry. Mrs. Williams was a brave little soldier. 
She fought against the hardships of life. Thrift and frugality were 
her weapons. Without compromise or complaining, she struggled 
on. Her pioneer training paid off — you see — she won! She reared 
a wonderful family, a family of whom the whole town was proud." 

This true story made a great impression on me that day. One 
that I have never forgotten. And as the years rolled by, maturity 
has taught my sisters and me to call pioneer thrift and frugality 
by their noble names — courage and fortitude. 


Quantity Cooking 
for Relief Society Functions 

Rosa Shurtz 

■ Nothing can finish a meal to perfection Hke a pie, cut evenly, set 
neatly in the center of the plate, and topped with a swirl of whipped 
cream or a little mountain of meringue. 

Prepared fillings are often more economical than starting from 
scratch, but sometimes the flavor isn't up to homemade. Try experi- 
menting by adding more lemon juice, sugar, and butter to lemon 
filling. To make more volume for each package, fold the cooled filling 
into meringue instead of putting meringue on top. 

All fillings can use a little salt, more flavor, sugar, and a bit of 

Don't be afraid to dress up a dessert with chopped nuts, grated 
chocolate, or whipped cream. Whipped cream can be an expensive 
item unless you are in a farming community. Try whipped topping 
made from dry milk crystals, which work very well in any dish 
using a gelatin base. Use the expensive cream for the finishing 

On cobblers, crisps, or deep-dish desserts, part whipped dry milk 
topping can be folded into whipped cream. This adds to volume and 
cuts cost and calories. It doesn't hold well but must be used immedi- 


lYz qts. juice from fruit 
1% c. cornstarch 
IVi qts. sugar 
1 tbsp. salt 

V4 c. lemon juice 
V4 lb. butter 

No. 10 cans water packed fruit, 

Heat 1 quart juice to boiling. Mix one pint of juice with cornstarch and add, 
while stirring, to hot juice. Cook until thick and clear. Stir in sugar, salt, lemon 
juice, and putter. Add drained fruit. Mix carefully. Cool and fill pastry lined pans. 
Cover with pastry. Bake at 425° thirty minutes until brown. Yield: eight 9-inch pies. 

May be poured into baked crusts and topped with whipping cream. 
Apricot Pie: use halved apricots. 

Berry Pies: 2 tsp. cinnamon may be added with sugar. 
Cherry Pies: add red food color and almond flavoring. 
Peach Pie: almond flavoring and cinnamon may be added. 
Pineapple Pies: Tidbits or crushed pineapple. 




6 tbsp. unflavored gelatin 2 tsp. ginger 

IV2 c. cold water 2 tsp. nutmeg 

2^4 c. sugar 2 tsp. cinnamon 

2 cans pumpkin No. 2 size V2 tsp. ground cloves 

3 c. milk 15 eggs, yolks and whites 
1 tbsp. salt 1 tsp. cream of tartar 

Soften gelatin in cold water, mix pumpkin, milk, egg yolks, spices, salt, sugar, 
and cook, stirring until thick, add gelatin, stir until dissolved, and chill until 
syrupy and thickened. Add cream of tartar to egg whites, beat until stiff. Add 
two and a half cups of sugar, gradually, beating constantly, until stiff peaks are 
formed. Fold into pumpkin mixture. Pour into pie pans which have been lined 
with finely crushed vanilla wafers, graham crackers, or ginger snaps. Serve with 
whipped cream. Yield: Six 9-inch pies or 50 tarts. 


27 egg yolks 1 tsp. green, yellow, or orange food 

Sy^ c. sugar coloring 

2V2 tsp. salt 5 c. boiling water 

3 c. lime, lemon, orange, or 2V2 c. lime, lemon, orange, or grape- 
grapefruit juice fruit flavored gelatin 

10 tbsp. grated rind from any of the 5 c. egg whites 

above fruits 5 tsp. cream of tartar 

3% c. sugar 

Mix first six ingredients together and cook over low heat, stirring until mixture 
boils. Remove from heat. Stir gelatin into boiling water, and beat into hot 
custard. Chill, and when partially set, beat until smooth. Add cream of tartar 
to egg whites, beat until frothy, and add sugar gradually. Beat to very stiff 
peaks and fold into gelatin mixture. Pour into pie pans lined with finely crushed 
vanilla wafers, graham crackers, or ginger-snaps. Serve with whipped cream. 
Yield: Ten 10-inch pies. 

VARIATIONS: Strawberries or pineapple may be used, 3 cups juice drained from 
either. Use strawberry or lemon gelatin. Fold in strawberries or crushed pine- 


53/^ c. crushed pineapple 2 qts. vanilla ice cream 

4 pkgs. lime-flavored gelatin 6 nine-inch pie shells 

IV2 Qts. water and juice drained from 

Drain fruit, reserve juice. Add water to syrup to make IV2 quarts. Bring to boil 
and dissolve gelatin in hot liquid. Chill until thick as honey. Whip at medium 
speed about 12 minutes or until double in bulk and thick and fluffy. Soften ice 
cream to thickness of stiff whipped cream and at low speed add ice cream and 
pineapple. Mix until just evenly distributed. Pour into pie shells. Chill until firm. 
Yield: 6 nine-inch pies. 

VARIATION: Any fruit may be used, canned or fresh. Add sugar to fresh fruit 
and let set. Drain juice. Use gelatin same flavor as fruits. Garnish with whipped 




2 qts. quick oats 1 tbsp. salt 

2 2/3 c. sifted flour 2 2/3 c. melted butter 

2 2/3 c. brown sugar 

Mix oats, flour, sugar, and salt. Add melted butter and mix until crumbly. Divide 
into eight parts and pack each part firmly into bottom and sides of nine-inch 
pie plate. Place an eight-inch plate on top of each to hold crumbs in place. Bake 
at 375° until brown, about fifteen minutes. Remove small plates several minutes 
after taking from oven. Cool and use for chiffon, custard, or cream fillings. Yield: 
eight 9-inch pies. 


434 c. sugar 9 c. sifted flour 

3 c. shortening IV^ tbsp. baking soda 
IV2 tbsp. vanilla IV2 tbsp. baking powder 

2 tsp. salt 1 qt. water 
13/4 c. cocoa 2 c. sauerkraut 
11 whole eggs 

Cream sugar and shortening on medium speed 10 minutes until creamy. Add 
vanilla, salt, and cocoa, continue beating for five minutes on high speed. Add 
eggs, blend on high speed until light and fluffy. Sift flour, baking powder, and 
soda together, and add alternately with water using low speed. Wash and chop 
kraut coarsely. Drain well and mix into batter thoroughly. Bake in greased 
floured sheet pan at 375° for forty-five minutes. Cool and frost. 
Yield: 40 to 45 servings. 


3 c. pancake mix (buttermilk) 3 c. sugar 

1 tsp. salt 1 tbsp. vanilla 

12 eggs 

Grease sides and bottoms of two pans 22" by 14" by 1"; line with wax paper, 
grease again, and dust with flour. 

Put eggs and salt in mixing bowl and beat about 45 seconds on high speed. Add 
sugar gradually, beating at medium speed until fluffy. Add vanilla and pancake 
mix and beat about 20 seconds at low speed. Spread evenly in pans and bake 8 
to 10 minutes at 400°. 

Sprinkle two large towels with powdered sugar, while cakes are baking. Loosen 
cakes around the edge of pans, turn onto towels. Peel paper from cakes. Roll in 
towels and let stand ten minutes. Unroll and spread with one of fillings, roll up, 
and refrigerate several hours before serving. Yield: 48 servings. 


1/3 c. cold water 3 c. heavy cream, whipped. 

2 envelopes unflavored gelatin l^ c. powdered sugar 

3 c. drained crushed pineapple 
Soften gelatin in cold water and dissolve over hot water. Fold into whipped 
cream with sugar and pineapple. Spread on cake, reroll and refrigerate. 


2 e-nvelopes unflavored gelatin 3 c. sifted powdered sugar 

1 qt. heavy cream, whipped 6 c. fresh or frozen drained fruit, 

1/3 c. cold water blueberries, strawberries, or 

Soften gelatirt in cold water and set in pan of hot water to dissolve. Cool 
slightly. Fold into whipped cream. Add powdered sugar. Spread on cake, and 
spread fruit over cream. Reroll. 




6 qts. red cherries, pitted 3V^ qts. sugar 

IVi c. cornstarch 1 tbsp. mace 

5 c. sugar 2 c. shortening 

1 tbsp. salt 8 eggs 
2^2 Qts. pancake mix 1 qt. milk 

Drain cherries. Bring juice to boil. Combine sugar, salt, and cornstarch with 
some of the cold juice and stir into hot juice. Cook until thick and clear. Add 
cherries and bring to boil. Put two quarts cherries into each of three pans (16" by 
10" by 2"). Combine dry ingredients for batter into mixer bowl. Add shortening, 
milk, and eggs. Beat 30 seconds at low speed. Scrape bottom of bowl. Increase 
speed to medium and beat thirty seconds longer. Spread one-third batter on each 
pan evenly. Bake at 350° forty-five to fifty minutes. Serve warm with cream or ice 
cream. Yield: 50 servings. 


2 cans (6 oz. size) frozen orange juice concentrated 
2 cans (6 oz. size) frozen lemon juice concentrated 
2 cans (12 oz. size) apricot nectar 

2 cans pineapple juice 
26 oz. bottle sparkling water 

Add water to concentrate according to directions. Combine with juice and spar- 
kling water. Add ice. Yield: about 7 quarts. 

NOTE: Orange and lemon powdered drink mixes used according to directions 
may be used as a substitute for concentrates. 


IV2 c. brown sugar, firmly packed 12 c. water 

34 tsp. salt 6 c. jellied cranberry sauce 

3^ tsp. nutmeg 3 qts. pineapple juice 

IV2 tsp. cinnamon Butter 

IV2 tsp. allspice Whole cinnamon sticks (optional) 

2Vi tsp. ground clove Butter, as desired 

Mix sugar and spices with three cups water and bring to boil. In a large pan 

crush cranberry sauce, add rest of water, and beat until smooth. Add pineapple 

juice and spiced syrup. Simmer about four minutes. Serve hot, with butter and 

cinnamon sticks for stirrers if desired. Yield: 50 servings. 


4 c. sugar 2V2 c. orange juice 

2 c. water 5 c. pineapple juice 

2 c. lemon juice 12 oz. maraschino cherries and juice 

2 qts. dry ginger ale 

Boil sugar and two cups water for ten minutes. Add lemon, orange, and pine- 
apple juice. Chill for several hours. Add cherries, water, and ginger ale. Pour 
over ice or for special occasions add three quarts of ice cream to punch bowl. 
Yield: 60 servings. 


2 cans passion fruit juice 1 can grapefruit juice 

1 can pineapple juice 2 c. lemon juice 

4 (26 oz.) sparkling water 

Pour over ice in punch bowl. Yield: 40 large servings - 80 small servings. 


"Sc/kfl/) Wappu" 

Loray C. Randall 


■ "Lisa, I do believe you're preparing yourself for a brilliant career as a 
rag picker!" How many times we had jokingly made this statement to our 
five-year-old in the last year I couldn't say, but it was getting to be a common 
expression. Also becoming all too common was my exasperation at finding bits 
and scraps of material tucked in such places as purses, jthe toy box, the maga- 
zine rack, and the underclothes drawer. Lisa was so fascinated with swatches 
of fabric and so determined, that I couldn't discard even the tiniest bit. I began 
doing the cutting for my own sewing projects when she was at Primary, visit- 
ing a friend, or other times when I knew she would be away from the house 
long enough for me to complete the job and throw away the scraps. 

Then I had an inspiration — a scraphook. 

My first effort was a fabric book about four by five inches, with a denim 
cover which contained twelve different fabric swatches. These were stitched 
six on each half of the denim cover with a strip of wide bias tape stitched 
down the middle which nicely solved the problem of raw edges in the center 
of the book. When possible, I used a selvage edge at the outside edge of the 
page with the top and bottom page edges pinked or cut as the raveling 
probability of the individual fabric dictated. 

This book had a wide sampling of fabric types, including a boucle wool, 
terry cloth, net, both pinwale and wide wale corduroy, organdy, and other 
fabrics selected for their combination of interesting textures and color appeal. 
The cover was marked Lisa's Scraphook. 

This is a very quiet toy and one which can be easily tucked into a hand- 
bag for silent amusement when a little girl might otherwise get the wiggles in 
meetings or waiting for appointments. It would also be of interest to a child 
restricted to quiet play because of illness. 

Although my original purpose in making the scraphook was to eliminate 
the bits and pieces of fabric that collected among Lisa's things, and to enter- 
tain her with the textures and colors of the fabrics, I found that the book has 
become an educational toy. It has piqued her curiosity as to the names of the 
various fabrics and what makes them different from each other. Why do the 
boucle wool and terry cloth have loops? Why can I see through the organdy? 
Why does the corduroy feel rough when I rub it one way and smooth when I 
rub it the other? Obviously, the toy is also educational for mother who 
doesn't always have the answers immediately available. 

I feel the idea of the scraphook could be adapted for children of various 
ages. Toddlers learning colors could have a book of plain swatches in bright 
colors. An extra challenge might be offered by including a single plaid or tweed, 
offering the opportunity of seeing how many different colors could be found in 
the single swatch. 

A picture book could be made for baby. Can you imagine a polkadot 
fruit tree with a rough brown corduroy trunk set against a blue broadcloth 
sky in which drifted a white terry-cloth cloud? A few minutes with the zigzag 
stitch, and these things would be put quickly and permanently in place and, 


if fabrics used were selected carefully, the book would be completely washable, 
even by machine. Older children in the family could originate fabric pictures 
for baby's book making it an interesting and inexpensive project for a family 
home evening activity. 

Older girls being taught to sew might make scrapbooks of their own for 
various families of fabrics with characteristics of each fabric noted for reference. 
For this type of scrapbook, the swatches might be most conveniently mounted 
in a notebook of some type. Another helpful book for the future seamstress 
would be one of various woven and non-woven materials used as interfacings. 

These ideas might serve as a springboard for new projects of your own 
and, if all else fails, and your daughter does grow up to be a rag picker, at 
least she will know her rags. 


For Years to Come 

The fragrance of life is often measured in little things — small deeds of 
kindness done daily, a cheery greeting, a warm handclasp, a simple act of help- 
fulness, a note of gratitude or appreciation — small acts, but each is a flower that 
leaves behind a gentle fragrance of blessings for years to come. 

— Catherine B. Bowles 


Elizabeth Williamson 

This hardy biennial (Allium porrum) needs no introduction to our gardens 
and tables. During the winter we add leeks to our stews, soups, and vegetable- 
meat dishes, then we cast this poor vegetable aside for the abundance of 
attractive spring produce. However, summer is just around the corner, and this 
is the season we anticipate serving cool, attractive meals. 

What could be more delectable than that good old stantlby, vichyssoise? 
The thrifty French farmers knew this so well. The leek was not only savory, but 
plentiful and cheap. It eventually worked its way up and earned a reputation 
as a gourmet soup. Here is a simple recipe for vichyssoise (chilled leek soup): 

6 leeks 

5 or 6 medium-sized 

4 tbsp. butter 

6 c. chicken broth or 

chicken stock 

salt and pepper 

IV^ c. cream, chilled 

(heavy cream is tastier) 
chopped chives or parsley 
nutmeg, if desired 

Wash the leeks thoroughly. Cut off the green tops, slice lengthwise. Saute 
in the butter until soft (but not brown). Peel and dice potatoes, boil until tender, 
drain, and add potatoes and chicken broth or stock to the leeks. Simmer for 
about ten minutes. Remove from heat, and put through a sieve. Add the salt 
and ground pepper to taste. Chill over night. Add chilled cream before serving 
and sprinkle chives or parsley on top. If you have an electric blender, the 
vegetables and broth can be mixed together thoroughly and chilled. You may like 
to try a dash of nutmeg on each serving. It adds an unusual flavor. 


Herb bread is appetizing and an interesting accompaniment for vichy- 
ssoise; Prepare the herb butter as you are preparing the soup. For V^ cube of 
butter add Vs tsp. marjoram and Vs tsp. basil (fresh or dry). Blend into butter. 
Allow to stand in refrigerator butter compartment. The following day, spread 
rounds of bread with the herb butter, sprinkle parsley or chives on top. Toast In 
oven. This recipe may be doubled, depending on the amount one wishes to serve. 






Gardeners and flower arrangers take note: In my small garden (vegetable 
experimental garden), I have had two rows of leek plants for years, using some 
in the kitchen and saving some for seed. The tall stems, with the beautiful large 
balls of seed pods at the top, are saved for my flower arranging friends who make 
stunning compositions, adding unusual dried plants, rocks, driftwood, weeds, and 
anything unusual they can find in the mountains, deserts, and beaches. The older 
plants are replaced by the volunteer ones which drop seeds from the large balls 
of seed pods. In this manner there is no planting, only transplanting the following 

Leeks seem to be insect free. They require very little water or cultivation. In 
all, they are a very satisfactory vegetable, delicious in the kitchen and, as decora- 
tive material, pleasing and interesting to the onlooker. 


Caroline Eyring Miner 

The morning sun bathes in ethereal light 
The old brick home nestled in tall dark trees. 
Gnarled and twisted, their branches laced with bright 
Green leaves, dotted with lonely nests to tease 
New birds to stay, these sentinels stand guard, 
Limned like an embroidered frieze on the sky 
In pastel pinks and grays. If they are scarred, 
No matter. There will no more be young to try 
The hay lofts, catch a pigeon on the wing. 
And berry patch and orchard will be cold, 
Awaiting shout and mischief of the harvesting. 
They have been up since dawn. Today, the old 
Home nest will be demolished, so they must go 
And gather memories against the snow. 



Nelda P. Litchfield, 
Calgary, Alberta, Canada 

■ Daddy knocked softly on the door, and Jane called out, "Is that you, 

"Yes, dear. Have you time for a brief heart-to-heart talk with your old 

"Of course! Come in. I'm still working on the hem of my wedding dress. 
Is it all right if I keep sewing while we chat?" 

"Certainly, Janie. I realize you have so much to have ready for next 
week, when we will go to the temple with you for your marriage." 

And so they talked. Jane had nearly finished the hem, when Daddy 
asked her if she would make him a promise. She did not hesitate for a 
moment, because she knew he had never asked her to do anything which was 
not right. Daddy became very serious, as he said, "Janie — when your 
honeymoon is over, in two weeks or so, will you promise me that you will 
start Relief Society right off the bat?" 

"Relief Society? Oh, Daddy, in the ward where we shall be living, the 
sisters just don't attend Relief Society until after they have a few children." 

"Then, my daughter, you be the first!" 

Daddy was ready to leave when Jane gave her promise. He smiled and 
added, "Janie dear, the Lord feels very strongly about this Relief Society meet- 
ing requirement. To a mature Latter-day Saint woman. Relief Society is just 
as important as Priesthood meeting is to the men of the Church. I know this 
is true. Do you know that my mother's father exacted a promise from her 
such as you have made tonight? She thanked her father hundreds and 
hundreds of times for the decision he helped her to make. Janie, I have 
always known the joy this organization has given my mother. Your mother, 
too, attended Relief Society, the Tuesday after we got back from our honey- 
moon; and, tonight, dear, you know where she is, at her Relief Society 
executive meeting at the church. Janie, at Relief Society, you will never 
learn anything false or wrong in any way. 

"My very beautiful little girl, I have been so very grateful, so pleased, 
so lucky to have a daughter like you! Your days in Sunday School, Primary, 
Mutual, Seminary, college, and teaching school in this town have brought 
you to this point. You are ready for your temple marriage. I love you, 
my girl, for your good decisions." 

Jane's father left the room, and Jane could feel that tears would soon be 
spilling out on the expensive white gown. She placed her wedding dress 
fondly on the bed, and kneeling, she thanked the Lord for her kind of a 
father and mother, who were even so old-fashioned that when she was going 
on her first "date," the whole family knelt down and prayed for her protec- 
tion and safety. 



Janet W. Breeze 


■ I love my grandmother's kitchen! It's a freshly painted "family room," 
where an old coal stove hnes up against the white wall alongside one of those 
new-fangled electric things. 

In the summertime, pots and kettles purr atop ^ven, red coils; but, come 
winter, the old stove shakes the soot from its pii>e, takes a newspaper rub- 
down, and ushers in a new season of coziness. And, should a hungry grand- 
child or two stop by, it doesn't take much coaxing before Grandma climaxes 
the visit with a phankuchen. 

The first time Grandma and the old stove introduced me to this taste- treat- 
deluxe, I was cautioned to remember that phankuchen is a real pancake — 
it fills the pan. The little things / made, Grandma assured me, were merely 
hot cakes. 

When I asked for the recipe — you guessed it — there was none. (Scientifically, 
that is.) But she made an effort to work slowly enough for me to determine 
and write down the amount of each ingredient she added. And here's how it 
came out: 

2 heaping tbsps. flour 
V2 tsp, salt 
2V^ tsp. sugar 
2 eggs 

Enough milk to make batter the con- 
sistency of a thick cream soup. 

Beat with rotary beater until foamy. 
Heat ten-inch iron skillet containing 

2 tbsps. shortening. Pour batter into 
hot shortening and cook until edges of 
pancake are firm and underneath side 
is lightly brown. Turn without break- 
ing (Grandma can) and cook until 

Grandma's phankuchen, spread with butter and homemade strawberry jam, 
serves two. However, I found myself with five hungry mouths impatiently 
waiting for "fun cookin' " — and no iron skillet. 

So — we double the recii>e at our house and cook at 380° in a large electric 
frying pan. And — but please don't tell Grandma how unskilled I am — I always 
cut the phankuchen in fours before turning. 

Nevertheless, cut or uncut, there's nothing quite Uke "a pancake that fills 
the pan!" 




Sunburst and Diamonds 
Many Patterns for Many Quilts 

Pearl Nielsen, Axtell Ward, Gunnison Stake, has made more than one hundred 
quilts, cutting and sewing the blocks, and doing all of the quilting herself. Many 
of the designs are her original patterns, and she has worked out numerous 
harmonizing and contrasting color combinations. Her stitches are small and 
beautifully even, and the quilting patterns display much beauty of line and 
arrangement. "A woman can stitch many thoughts about life into a quilt," Mrs. 
Nielsen has said to her friends, "and quilts are a useful ornament in any home." 
Mrs. Nielsen is mother to ten children, and she is proud and grateful for her 
many grandchildren and great-grandchildren. At the age of seventy-eight, she is 
still a visiting teacher in Relief Society, having served in this capacity for more 
than forty years. She has also served as a counselor in the Ward Relief Society 
presidency. Known and loved throughout the Gunnison Valley, she has observed 
the Relief Society motto all her life — "Charity never faileth." 


for the Wise 

Margery S, Stewart 
Chapter Two 

Sjmopsis: Jennie Starr, whose husband Rex is not a member of the 
Church, reaUzes that, in spite of the many material blessings enjoyed by the 
family, there is a need for spirituality. Sabra, a sensitive and thoughtful 
daughter, seems to be searching for something deep and satisfying in her life. 

■ When the candles were blown 
and the birthday songs silent, the 
children went reluctantly to bed. 
Jennie dressed again for the 
party and went downstairs. 

Rex looked up from his paper. 

"Do we have to go?" 

"No," said Jennie. She took 
off the mink stole and sat across 
from him. 

"Fm tired," Rex said. He 
rubbed his eyes. "The stock mar- 
ket is edgy. The world is edgy." 
He looked up, "But Sabra is 
better . . . she looks better, don't 
you think?" 

"Yes," said Jennie, heavily. 
"But I wish they'd take her ton- 
sils out." 

"Not until summer. What's 
with you, Jen?" 

Jennie got up and lit the gas 
under the logs and watched the 
blue flames come out and lick 
the bark. What's with me? she 
thought. What's with me, is that 
I have to ask Rex for something. 

and this is the first time that I 
have been afraid he would refuse 

She came back and pulled a 
cushion from the couch and sat 
on it and leaned against his knee. 
"I love you, Rex . . . empty- 
headed as I am ... I love you." 

"Likewise," he said gravely. He 
touched her bright hair. "So now, 
what is it? New drapes?" 

"When I was little," she said 
slowly, "Father used to talk a lot 
about God and things. . . ." 

"Different, our family was the 
feckless sort." 

"When I was little," she went 
on, "he used to teach me, about 
God and all that " 

"I thought you were a little 
odd ball when I first met you, 
and then I learned about how 
you had been brought up, and I 
could see it would have that ef- 
fect, looking at it from a psycho- 
logical point of view." 



"But looking at it from a spirit- 
ual point of view," said Jennie 
quietly, "is quite another matter. 
Fve been very troubled about 
Sabra's action today. I feel we 
have failed her." 

"We're happy," said Rex. "We 
are happy, and we're going to 
stay that way. We're what every- 
one dreams of being, rich, young, 
familied, with a proper assort- 
ment of friends, brains, and fun. 
Who could ask for more?" 

"Sabra," said Jennie. 

"She's always asking for more," 
Rex said shortly, "the books she 
reads . . . brain crackers for 

"She's different." 

"Agreed. We'll have to channel 
her energies more." 

"How? Dancing, piano, speech, 
she's still hungry." 

"I know." 

He loves her, thought Jennie, 
as I love her, half pain, half pride, 
and all tenderness and fear. 

"She's not like the others. She 
needs more ... of something." 

"Let me go unearth my Phi 
Beta Kappa key." 

She sat away from him. "Do 
so. It won't feed her. What she's 
searching for isn't found where 
you found the key." 

"What she's searching for will 
lead her off on one tangent after 
another," said her father. 

Jennie turned to him quickly. 
"Let me go back. Rex. Let me go 
back to my own Church, with my 
children! Let me see to it that 
they aren't drawn into something 
that will prove their undoing." 

"There was a youngster . . . 
not quite like Sabra," Rex said 
slowly, his face troubled. "It was 
in high school . . . she finally 
committed suicide . . . she was 
brilliant, involved, and confused." 

"I must take them back with 
me." Jennie lifted her face to 
his. "Let me," she pleaded. 

He sat back and considered. 
"We said no religion ever . . . 
when we married." 

"I know," she nodded. "It was 
easy enough to say no religion 
. . . like I won't ever eat again 
... or I won't read another book. 
In love one promises impossible 
things." She lifted her eyes to his. 
"I still am that much in love." 
She bit her lip. "But now there 
are others besides myself in- 

He kissed her gently. "When 
you are tired your eyes get such 
an impossible blue and so enor- 
mous . . . like Lora's, did you 
know?" He folded his arms. "I 
don't know anything about your 
Church . . . not really." 

"I've forgotten a lot," she said, 
"and I am not good at explain- 
ing, but I remember how secure 
I felt as a child, with the Primary 
and the Sunday School lessons 
and Mother coming home from 
Relief Society after giving a les- 
son. It was my life." 

To her misery was added the 
longing for other years and other 

"No," said Rex stubbornly, "I 
have got to think this over." 

"Even if I could give them that 
much . . . give Sabra that much 
... it might keep her from those 
endless hours in her room." 

He was silent. 

"We could try it ... for a year, 
say," Jennie was beginning to 
talk very fast, compulsively. "One 
year ought to tell us if it's the 
right or wrong way. Then we 
would know." 

He curled a strand of her hair 
in his fingers. "I was reading 
Nietsche today, his 'Thus Spoke 



Zarathustra. Even God, he 
claims, has his hell ... it is his 
love for his children. I could 
agree with that . . . feeling as I 
do for mine." 

They stopped talking and 
watched the fire. Jennie had the 
tightrope feeling again. Above 
all, beyond all, this must not cost 
a rift between them. Whatever it 
was, however it led, she must 
walk side by side with Rex. 

Rex said tonelessly, "Don 
Spangler's daughter ran away. 
Did you know that?" 

"Samantha told me." 

"And he's a psychiatrist . . . 
one of the best, in my opinion. 
But even he could not help his 

" A year is such a little time," 
said Jennie. Her voice broke. 
"The world is such a confused 
and frightened world. We don't 
seem to hate anybody any more 
. . . nor are we surprised by 
horror ... we keep fighting and 
breaking the laws because we 
can't seem to help ourselves. Rex, 
it's the families who are the forts 
now . . . the only fortresses 
against the tigers." 

"A year is short," Rex agreed. 
"At least we will have tried some- 
thing. I was not brought up in a 

church, so I can't evaluate its 
effect on the young mind." He 
rose and turned toward the fire- 
place. "If she were only like the 

"Her difference is the thing 
that will make her or break her," 
Jennie said reluctantly. "The 
other children we can understand 
. . . but with Sabra we grope." 

"Only a year," he said huskily. 
"After that, we do it my way." 

"What is your way?" she asked 
in quick alarm. She watched him 
prepare the room for the night, 
turning off the fire, securing the 
windows. He was tall and quick 
and thin, his face was keen and 
intelligent, his friends were the 
best. Rex demanded the best. She 
could be sure of one thing — he 
would be watching and measur- 
ing, weighing and studying. But 
at least she had taken the first 
step and was still standing. 

Rex took her hand. "I'll be 
working on an alternate," he said, 
"a year wil give me insight and 
time." He grinned at her, "After 
all, it just came up this evening." 

She could not contradict him, 
but in herself she knew the prob- 
lem had existed since their mar- 
riage, shelved. 

{To be continued) 


Virginia Brown 

Genuine love is a spiritual commodity which demands no down payment by 
the recipient. The only required collateral security is need. Terms are extended 
infinitely, with an unconditional guarantee attached. Kindness and humility pay 
the interest. Wisdom adds daily to the investment. The pure in heart hold the 
franchise, and prospects are as numerous as the human race. Any idle moment 
marks the past due date with the end of eternity as expiration. 




Relief Society Activities 

Danish Mission, Copenhagen and Jylland Districts Singing Mothers Present 

Music for Quarterly Conference 

Ingrid A. Sorenson, Supervisor, Danish Mission Relief Society, stands in 
the front row, seventh from the left: Lillian Krammer, Copenhagen District 
chorister, is seventh from the left in the second row; DeAnna Yates is pianist; 
and Inger Larsen, second from the left in the front row, is president of the 
Copenhagen District Relief Society. 

Sister Sorenson reports: "The Singing Mothers of the Copenhagen and 
Jylland Districts are always eager to furnish music for the quarterly confer- 
ences. These sisters travel long distances, but are willing to give of their time 
and talents." 

Inger Fisher Rasmussen is president of the Danish Mission Relief Society, 
with Edith Christensen as first counselor and Tova Birhskov as secretary- 

St. Joseph Stake (Arizona), Thatcher Second Ward Relief Society 
Mothers and Daughters Day 

June 1, 1965 

Ileen Hoopes, President, St. Joseph Stake Relief Society, reports: "We feel 
that the Mothers and Daughters Day is a splendid way to introduce Relief 
Society to our teenage daughters. The girls enjoyed the lessons and the 
instructions in handicraft, especially learning to quilt. A potluck luncheon 
was served at noon." 

Manuela T. Mickelson is president of the Thatcher Second Ward Relief 
Society; Erdine Layton, First Counselor; Jeanene Flake, Second Counselor: 
Virginia Thompson, Secretary-Treasurer; Olive P. Hoopes, work meeting leader. 

Hayward Stake (California) Leadership Meeting 

September 24, 1965 

Front row, left to right: Rexine Glenn, organist; Erma Neilsen, Work 
Counselor; Vera Crockett, President; Rose Winkle, Education Counselor; Edna 
Jelison, Secretary-Treasurer; Eileen Turek, literature class leader. 

Back row: Gwenn Webb, visiting teacher message leader; Georgene Moffitt, 
social science class leader; Catherine Russell, chorister; Anna Hoem, who made 
the Relief Society emblem featured in the center of the picture; Rama Lee, 
work meeting leader; Esther Kenison, theology class leader. 

Sister Crocket reports: "Our opening leadership meeting was a most 
spiritual occasion. The theme of the year's program — charity — was beautifully 
brought into focus by a large Relief Society emblem in blue and gold glass, 
surrounded by twelve miniature lights. Each board member, in turn, lighted 
a light, after giving a fitting quotation on our theme, and on her special 
assignment. Elder Delbert Wright, President of the Oakland Temple, was the 
guest speaker." 


All material submitted for publication in this department should be sent 
through the stake Relief Society presidents or mission Relief Society pres- 
idents or supervisors, and should be addressed to the Editorial Department, 
Relief Society Magazine, 76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. See 
regulations governing the submittal of Notes From the Field in the November 
1964 issue of the Magazine, page 847. 


Albuquerque Stake (New Mexico) Visiting Teacher Convention 

September 11, 1965 

Left to right: Lynda King, Los Lunas Branch, the youngest visiting 
teacher, age twenty; Betty Jean Steffensen, stake visiting teacher message 
leader; Maude Barb, the eldest active visiting teacher, age eighty-nine. 

Vera Mae K. Hamilton, President, Albuquerque Stake Relief Society, 
reports that an autumn motif and color scheme were used throughout the 
convention. The film "A Light Shining" was presented, and music was provided 
by the Albuquerque Third Ward Singing Mothers. 

Santa Monica Stake (California), La Cienega Ward Opening Social and 


September 28, 1965 

In the center of front row: Odette Coulam, honored President, with 
daughters Nancy Jex and Billie Morgan on either side; First Counselor Inis 
Turner, third from Sister Coulam's left; Second Counselor Melba Maynard, 
fourth from Sister Coulam's left; the new La Cienega Ward Relief Society 
President Evelyn Astle, first at the right on the front row; theology class leader 
Eloise Chalfont, second from the right, first row; Evelyn Bluth, President, Santa 
Monica Stake Relief Society, fifth from the right on the second row. 

Sister Bluth reports: "The 'This Is Your Life' program was written and 
directed by Eloise Chalfont. The new ward president Evelyn Astle contacted 
over forty people who had served with Sister Odette Coulam during her 
seventeen years as ward and stake president. Many of these people traveled 
hundreds of miles to be in attendance. The mission of Relief Society was 
beautifully demonstrated by the portrayal of the life of Sister Coulam — this 
much-loved woman — in prose, poetry, and music. The large group who attended 
were uplifted and inspired by the dedication and devotion of this exemplary 
woman to so order their lives that they might become more active in Relief 
Society and invite others to participate with them." 

Yellowstone Stake (Idaho) Relief Society Board Entertains Ward Relief Society 

Officers and Teachers at "Preview of Lessons" 

September 8, 1965 

Front row, seated, left to right: Leola Beddes, Magazine representative; 
Delia Davis, literature class leader; Anna Romrell, visiting teacher class 
leader; Deon Davis, social science class leader; Ruth Reynolds, theology class 

Back row, standing, left to right: Lisle L. Andrus, former president, 
Yellowstone Stake Relief Society; Ortella Clark, First Counselor; Jeanne 
Siddoway, Second Counselor; Mary B. Williams, Secretary-Treasurer; Margaret 
Stanford, work meeting leader; Naomi Jergensen, chorister; Betty Tibbits, 
organist; Roma Williams, who had charge of the film and photography. 

Sister Andrus reports: "There were 120 in attendance from eleven wards 
and the West Yellowstone Branch. The 'Preview of Lessons' was initiated 
four years ago by this board. The invitations, lesson ideas for the year, decora- 
tions, music, programs, and ffefreshments have been organized under a special 
theme for that particular evening. The special themes for the four years 
have been: The Beautiful Lady in Blue; The Good Ship Relief Society; 
Keys to Wisdom; and 'Let There Be Light.' The September 1965 meeting 
was the highlight of Relief Society in Yellowstone Stake, and an outstanding 
spiritual experience." 

Denice Parker is the new president of Yellowstone Stake, and Sister 
Andrus is president of Ricks College Stake Relief Society. 



Idaho State University Stake (Pocatello, Idaho), First Ward Relief Society 

Opening Social 
October 21, 1965 

Seated in front, left to right: Marie VanderBeek, First Counselor; Veloe 
Brasier, President; Carolyn Winn, Second Counselor. 

Second row: Gayle Sweat, organist; Gayla Olson, Magazine representative; 
Janet Dixon, social science class leader; Joyce Craig, work director; Jane Niel- 
sen; Diane Perry, visiting teacher message leader. 

Carol D. Chase, President, Idaho State University Stake, reports that the 
invitations to the social were unique in the form of a ticket and carried a 
message of welcome to the Relief Society program: 

Come Aboard the Relief Society Train 

Tickets sold to: University First Ward sisters 

Boarding time: 7:15 p.m. October 21, 1965 

Special feature of the trip: A special seat was reserved in the 

Relief Society lesson cars. Live entertainment in the lounge car, and 
a luncheon served in the dining car. 

Destination: A greater love and unity in our ward. 

Phoenix West Stake Relief Society Ward Presidencies at Leadership Meeting 

September 17, 1965 

Seated, front row, left to right: Members of Phoenix West Stake Relief 
Society Board: Irma R. Harris, work meeting leader; M. Dianne Johns, Maga- 
zine representative; Hazel B. Gunderson, literature class leader; Phyllis G. 
Peters, visiting teacher message leader; Ethelyn M. Eagar, Second Counselor; 
Millicent K. Winsor, President; Julia W. Riggs, First Counselor; lone J. Simon- 
son, Secretary-Treasurer; Anne P. Riggs, theology class leader; Fayne N. Col- 
yar, chorister; Barbara B: Brown, social science class leader. 

Standing are members of the presidencies of Glendale Second Ward, 
Phoenix Ninth Ward, Phoenix Tenth Ward, Phoenix Seventeenth Ward, 
Phoenix Nineteenth Ward, Phoenix Twenty-first Ward, and Phoenix Twenty- 
sixth Ward. 

Sister Winsor reports: "Of the seven ward presidents, six are new during 
this calendar year. In September the stake Relief Society presidency met with 
each ward presidency in a special meeting to discuss the individual respon- 
sibility of each member, the specific duties, and any questions pertaining to 
their calling. We feel a great deal was accomplished through these meetings, 
gaining a closer bond of sisterhood and love for each other, as well as greater 
unity and understanding between the ward and stake officers." 

Australian Mission, Canberra Branch Singing Mothers Present Music For the 

Opening of the New Chapel 

June 27, 1965 

Front row, left to right: Nelly Earle, chorister; Valerie Jardie; Shauna 
Kelly; Wilma Hay; Nancy Francis; Dorothy Miles. 

Second row: Betty Dopson, President; Annie Stoker; Theda Anderson; 
Jean Vonthethoff, Secretary-Treasurer; Eileen Keenan, Second Counselor; 
Hilda Hay; Adelyne Smith. 

Back row, missionary sisters: Donna McAllister and Silvia Boelter. 

Seated at the piano: Lynne Grenville. 

Laurine A. Ensign, Supervisor, Australian Mission Relief Society, reports 
that the opening of the Canberra chapel occurred before she arrived in the 
mission, and during the time that Vivian H. Coombs was the Relief Society 
supervisor in the mission. 

Fifteen sisters comprised the choir, and they sang "Dear to the Heart of 
the Shepherd" and "Each Cooing Dove." The singing was quite an achievement 
for these women, as they had been practicing together for only two months. 
The day will long be remembered by all those present. 



St. Johns stake (Arizona) Singing Mothers Present Music for the Officers Meeting 
of the Relief Society Annual General Conference 

September 29, 1965 

Burma S. Hamblin, President, St. Johns Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"This picture shows our Singing Mothers in the Tabernacle. The chorus 
sang 'O Divine Redeemer,' conducted by Francelle Boman, and 'One World,* 
conducted by Rosie B. Hall. Betty Jo LeSueur is stake organist. Elder Roy 
M. Darley accompanied our singing in the Tabernacle, and is seated at the 
organ in the picture. 

"Our Relief Society stake counselors are Edith H. Eagar and Goldie West. 
Wanda H. Hall is secretary- treasurer. All of the officers sang with the chorus. 
Stake President Bryant Whiting and one of his Counselors, Elmo Jarvis, are 
seated with the group. Florence J. Madsen of the General Board of Relief 
Society is also seated with us. She came to our stake to work with us, and 
from her we received inspiration as well as instruction. 

"There are nine wards in our stake, and sisters from each ward partic- 
ipated, some of them driving 260 miles to rehearsals. Each ward was responsible 
for its finances for the trip. They made their money through bake sales, 
serving family reunion dinners, and conventions. Also, they operated refresh- 
ment booths at rodeos and fairs, and two wards joined forces and planted, hoed, 
and harvested a patch of green corn. 

We feel that our appearance in the Tabernacle was a wonderful inspira- 
tional experience. We are grateful for it, and feel that it united us as sisters 
in the stake. We chartered three buses, and most of the 120 sisters, as well as 
our stake president, traveled to Salt Lake City by bus. 


Lesson Department 

Elder Roy W. Doxey 
Lesson 72 — The First Presidency — Keys of the Kingdom 
(Text: The Doctrine and Covenants, Sections 90, 91, 92) 

For First Meeting, May 1966 
In the Southern Hemisphere, for October 1966 

Objective: To understand the place of the keys of the Priesthood 

in the gospel plan. 


In December 1832, the Lord 
instructed the Prophet Joseph 
Smith that all who should become 
members of the School of the 
Prophets should, by ordinance, 
be clean from the blood of this 
generation. (D&C 88:138-141.) 

They were told that wilful sin- 
ning would bring the penalty of 
being turned over to the buffet- 
ings of Satan until the day of 
redemption. {DHC 1:323-324.) 


On March 8, 1833, the Lord 
gave Section 90 in which confir- 
mation is made of blessings 
wherein forgiveness of sins was 
granted by the Lord. The Proph- 
et Joseph Smith was informed 
that his sins were forgiven (verse 
l),and both Sidney Rigdon and 

Frederick G. Williams were also 
given the same assurance. The 
Doctrine and Covenants Com- 
mentary brings our attention to 
the fact that the sins of these 
brethren were not serious, but as 
men learn more of their responsi- 
bilities in the Church and also 
advance in understanding of the 
need for closer observance to the 
commandments, they recognize 
wherein they may improve their 
lives. (Pages 576-577.) Is it not 
true that more knowledge of 
gospel principles brings the con- 
viction by the Spirit that further 
efforts must be made to perfect 
one^s life? 


What are the "keys" of the 
Priesthood? Joseph Smith and 
Oliver Cowdery received these 
keys at the hands of John the 



Baptist, Peter, James, and John 
and the heavenly visitants men- 
tioned in Section 110. Without 
these powers the Lord's Church 
would not be a kingdom of order. 
With the prophet holding these 
powers throughout the world, he 
may direct the use of the Priest- 
hood by every person who has 
received an ordination to the 
Priesthood. The "keys" consti- 
tute the power to direct the use 
of the Priesthood. An important 
principle, also, that every person 
should know is derived from an 
understanding of the functioning 
of these keys. No male ordained 
to the Priesthood may exercise 
this authority in performing ordi- 
nances unless he is given permis- 
sion to do so. The Priesthood 
ordination bestows the power to 
act for the Lord, but the person's 
acts in using the Priesthood are 
not valid if the Church officer 
over him has not authorized him 
to use the Priesthood. For exam- 
ple, in the ordinance of baptism, 
even though one may be an 
ordained high priest, he cannot 
baptize unless the bishop of his 
ward or the presiding officer 
where he resides gives him per- 
mission to baptize. The bishop, 
in this case, holds the keys of 
authority in his ward. Similarly, 
a stake president holds keys for 
his stake. But, in both of these 
cases, neither bishop nor stake 
president has authority to func- 
tion outside of the ward or stake 
over which he is set apart to pre- 
side. Thus, the powers of pre- 
siding, under the keys of the 
Priesthood, are limited to the 
jurisdiction given to the officer 
by the authority of the President 
of the Church. The prophet sees 
that the Lord's work is carried on 
throughout the world by confer- 

ring local jurisdiction to the many 
officers who function under him. 


Six months after the Church 
was organized, the Lord gave a 
revelation in which he instructed 
the Church that there is only 
one man at a time who holds 
all the keys of the Priesthood. At 
that time it was the First Elder 
of the Church — Joseph Smith. It 
was indicated in that revelation 
that the Prophet was to hold 
these powers "until I shall ap- 
point unto them another in his 
stead" (D&C 28:7). Even the 
appointment of the Prophet to 
preside over the Church was to 
be done by the common consent 
of the Church, by the prayer of 
faith. (Ibid., verses 12-13.) One- 
half year passed and a situation 
arose in the Church that de- 
manded a reiteration of the prin- 
ciple of one revelator for the 
Church. Another person claimed 
such a right, but the Lord's king- 
dom is one of order. 

In the course of this reaffirma- 
tion of this most important prin- 
ciple, the Lord said concerning 
Joseph Smith: 

And this ye shall know assuredly — 
that there is none other appointed 
unto you to receive commandments 
and revelations until he be taken, if 
he abide in me (Ibid., 43:3). 

Before the Quorum of the 
Twelve was appointed, the Lord 
made known that the Prophet 
would hold the keys of the king- 
dom throughout time and eter- 

Verily I say unto you, the keys of 
the kingdom shall never be taken from 
you, while thou art in the world, 
neither in the world to come; 



Nevertheless, through you shall the 
oracles be given to another, yea, even 
unto the church (Ibid., 90:3-4). 


The expressions "oracles" and 
"even to the church" are ex- 
plained in this authoritative 

... In the plural it [oracles] means 
the Revelations given by Grod (Rom. 
3:2; I Peter 4:11). .. . 

. . . Yet when the Prophet should be 
taken the "oracles" would be given to 
another, "even to the Church." There- 
fore after the martyrdom the keys re- 
mained and were in possession of the 
Church and exercised through the pre- 
siding councU, which at that time was 
the council of the Twelve Apostles, 
and in the Church the oracles are 
found and will continue unto the end 
of time (Doctrine and Covenants 
Commentary, page 577). 

When the Prophet Joseph 
Smith was martyred, the Presi- 
dent of the Twelve Apostles and 
the other members of the Twelve 
presided over the Church. What 
powers do the apostles possess 
which would give them authority 
to preside over the Church upon 
the death of the Prophet? Among 
others, President Wilford Wood- 
ruff has left his testimony of the 
conferring of the keys of the 
Priesthood by Joseph Smith 
upon the Twelve. 

The last speech that Joseph Smith 
ever made to the Quorum of the Apos- 
tles was in a building in Nauvoo, and 
it was such a speech as I never heard 
from mortal man before or since. He 
was clothed upon with the Spirit and 
poWer of Grod. His face was clear as 
amber. The room was filled as with 
consiuning fire. He stood three hours 
upon his feet. Said he: "You Apostles 
of the Lamb of God have been chosen 
to carry out the purposes of the Lord 
on the earth. Now, I have received, as 
the Prophet, seer and revelator, stand- 

ing at the head of this dispensation, 
every key, every ordinance, every 
principle and every Priesthood that 
belongs to the last dispensation and 
fulness of times. And I have sealed all 
these things upon your heads. Now, 
you Apostles, if you do not rise up and 
bear off this kingdom, as I have given 
it to you, you will be danmed." 

I am the only witness left on earth 
that can bear record of this, and I am 
thankful that I have lived to see the 
day in which I stand (Conference 
Report April 1898, page 89). 

What process continued the 
existence of the keys of the 
Priesthood following the martyr- 
dom of the Prophet? At the time 
of the ordination of each apostle 
he is given all of the Priesthood 
authority received by the Prophet 
Joseph Smith. The conferring of 
the keys of the Priesthood does 
not diminish the Priesthood of 
the person performing the ordina- 
tion. There are thousands of 
elders holding the same author- 
ity. Similarly, there may be many 
who hold the keys of the Priest- 
hood, as the Twelve Apostles, but 
there is only one person at a time 
who holds these keys actively; 
that is, to receive revelation for 
the Church and to direct its 
activities. The Twelve Apostles 
hold these keys inactively; that 
is, they use these latter authori- 
ties when called upon by the 
President of the Church, and 
when the President dies, they use 
these powers to appoint the new 
President of the Church by reve- 


President Joseph F. Smith 
discussed these powers and the 
need for worthiness on the part 
of him who holds them, as indi- 
cated in verse 5 of Section 90. 



... If any man in that position 
should become unfaithful, God would 
remove him out of his place. I testify 
in the name of Israel's God that He 
will not suffer the head of the Church, 
him whom He has chosen to stand at 
the head, to transgress His laws and 
apostatize; the moment he should take 
a course that would in time lead to it, 
God would take him away. Why? Be- 
cause to suffer a wicked man to occupy 
that position, would be to allow, as it 
were, the fountain to become cor- 
rupted, which is something He will 
never permit. And why will he not 
suffer it? Because it is not the work 
of Joseph Smith; it is not the work of 
Brigham Young or of John Taylor. 
It is not the work of man but of God 
Almighty; and it is His business to see 
that the men who occupy this position 
are men after His own heart, men that 
will receive instructions from Him, 
and that will carry out the same 
according to the counsels of His will 
(Journal of Discourses 24:192). 


On March 18, 1833, ten days 
after Section 90 was received, the 
First Presidency was organized 
with Joseph Smith as President, 
Sidney Rigdon, First Counselor, 
and Frederick G. WilHams, 
Second Counselor. The Prophet 
recorded the event in these 

... I laid my hands on Brothers 
Sidney and Frederick, and ordained 
them to take part with me in holding 
the keys of this last kingdom, and to 
assist in the Presidency of the High 
Priesthood, as my Counselors; after 
which I exhorted the brethren to 
faithfulness and diligence in keeping 
the comftiandments of God (DHC I: 


When the First Presidency 
meets as a quorum, the brethren 
act by reason of the keys of the 
kingdom. The Lord has revealed 
wherein this quorum's decisions 
would be valid — and also the 

Council of the Twelve and the 
First Council of the Seventy — 
only by the unanimous voice of 
each member of the quorum. 
Then the virtues which should in- 
fluence righteous decisions were 
also enumerated, such as meek- 
ness, patience, godliness, and so 
forth. (D&C 107:27-31.) When 
the President dies, the Quorum 
of the First Presidency no longer 
exists. This is what the Prophet 
Joseph Smith said in a meeting 
with the Twelve Apostles on 
January 26, 1836: 

... the Twelve are not subject to 
any other than the first Presidency 
.... and where I am not, there is no 
First Presidency over the Twelve 
(DHC 11:374). 

From the foregoing, it is clear 
that the counselors act under the 
direction of the President, and 
their authority exists only as long 
as there is a President. Other- 
wise, they, if apostles in the Quo- 
rum of the Twelve, return to their 
places of seniority in that quo- 
rum. The Twelve Apostles, hold- 
ing the keys of the Priesthood, 
become the active leaders of the 
Church, with the President of the 
Twelve being in charge of the 
Church and the other members 
of the Twelve as counselors until 
the Quorum of the First Presi- 
dency is organized. 

In all matters the President of 
the Church presides; his coun- 
selors assist him. In the following 
verse the Lord sets forth clearly 
the powers of the President. 

And this shall be your business and 
mission in all your lives, to preside in 
council, and set in order all the affairs 
of this church and kingdom (D&C 90: 

At this time (March 1833) the 
First Presidency was to hold not 



only the keys of the Church but 
also the keys to the School of the 
Prophets. (D&C 90:7.) But in 
both of these administrations 
Joseph Smith was to preside. 
{Ibid., verses 12-13.) 


Through the work of the First 
Presidency, preparation for giv- 
ing the gospel of salvation to the 
inhabitants of Zion (Jackson 
County, Missouri) and to the 
nations was to go forth. 

Other nations were to hear the 
message through the missionaries 
who were to present the gospel to 
the Gentiles, first, and then to 
the Jews. (D&C 90:8-9.) This 
instruction is in fulfillment of 

With the complete fulfillment 
of this prophecy, yet future, the 
Lord^s power will be demon- 
strated in the bringing about of a 
paradisiacal environment, which 
will characterize the millennial 
reign of the Savior. The gospel 
shall be taught in that day in the 
various languages. (Verses 10- 


At an earlier date the Prophet 
and Sidney Rigdon were engaged 
in the "translation" (revision) of 
the Bible. The Prophet's present 
responsibility was to work on this 
revision and then to attend to his 
other duties. 

Only some of the responsibili- 
ties of the Prophet are mentioned 
in this revelation to indicate ways 
in which he was to preside over 
the affairs of the Church. The 
President of the Church is to 
receive revelation and thus to 
make known the mysteries of the 
kingdom. (D&C 90:13-14.) Here 

again is repeated the important 
principle that the Prophet is to 
receive revelation for the Church 
and to "set in order all the affairs 
of this church and kingdom" 
(verse 16). 

Significant among the Proph- 
et's duties was this counsel, which 
would be applicable to all mem- 
bers of the Church: 

.... and study and learn, and be- 
come acquainted with all good books, 
and with languages, tongues, and 
people (Verse 15) . 

Applicable to the Latter-day 
Saint is the admonition to be- 
ware of pride. To set one's house 
in order means to overcome the 
weaknesses which prevent close 
communion with the Holy Ghost. 
A part of this endeavor is to be 
clean in body and mind and to 
be industrious. (Verses 17-18.) 


Verses 19 through 33 contain 
several instructions concerning 
temporal matters. For example, 
Frederick G. Williams was to 
have a home for his family; the 
debts of the Lord's storehouse 
were to be paid; and counsel was 
given on the number who should 
be accommodated in the home of 
Joseph Smith, Sr. In verse 25 the 
meaning of "let your families be 
small" pertains to those not of 
his immediate family who were 
receiving lodging in his home. 

Reference is made to Vienna 
Jacques, the only woman other 
than the Prophet's wife, Enmia, 
who is mentioned by name in the 
Doctrine and Covenants. (Ibid,, 
90: 28-31.) She was to go to 
Jackson County, Missouri, and 
receive a stewardship from the 




An outstanding message in 
Section 90 is the following: 

Search diligently, pray always, and 
be believing, and all things shall work 
together for your good, if ye walk 
uprightly and remember the covenant 
wherewith ye have covenanted one 
with another (Verse 24). 

The expression "the covenant 
wherewith ye have covenanted 
one with another" has at least 
two meanings. First, when one 
enters the Church by baptism he 
covenants to keep the command- 
ments of the Lord. The member 
of the Church who does not con- 
tinue in this agreement no longer 
represents the Lord and, thus, 
his actions cast reflection upon 
all members who are endeavoring 
to demonstrate their true citizen- 
ship in the kingdom. Secondly, 
the agreement to work for the 
salvation of the living and the 
dead was also made in the pre- 
earth life. "Joseph Smith, by 
revelation, instructed the Sainte 
and said that the Lord 'ordained 
and prepared' the means, 'before 
the foundation of the world, for 
the salvation of the dead who 
should die without a knowledge 
of the Gospel.' " (Smith, Joseph 
Fielding: The Way to Perfec- 
tion, page 176.) 


In the concluding verses of this 
revelation, a warning was given to 
Zion that if she did not repent, 
she would be chastened until she 
was clean. (D&C 90:34-37.) 

The literal fulfillment of this 
prophecy is history. The saints 
were literally driven from Mis- 
souri because of their transgres- 
sions. (Ibid., 101:1-8; 105:1-10.) 

Many of the prophets, subse- 
quent to the expulsion of the 
members of the Church from 
Missouri, have applied this warn- 
ing to us of a later period. Among 
these was President Wilford 
Woodruff, who said: 

We have been favored, as no other 
people have, with wise counsels. Their 
extent and variety are immeasurable. 
They cover every department of hu- 
man life. So far as we have observed 
them, prosperity and happiness have 
been the results. Whatever difficulties 
we may have to contend with to-day 
are due, if not wholly, at least in great 
part, to our disregard of them {An 
Epistle of the Council of the Twelve 
Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ 
of Latter-day Saints, Semi-annual 
Conference, October 10, 1887, page 9). 


While the Prophet was revising 
the scriptures, he inquired of the 
Lord concerning the Apocrypha 
of the Old Testament. These 
books, being of uncertain origin, 
were once a part of the Protes- 
tant Bible, and they continue to 
be in the Douay version (Catho- 
lic). Section 91 informs us that 
although the books in the main 
were translated correctly there 
were many additions by the 
hands of men. It was unnecessary 
for the Apocrypha to be revised, 
the Prophet was advised, but by 
the Spirit the reader could dis- 
tinguish between the truth and 
the spurious. 


This revelation is a command- 
ment that Frederick G. Williams 
be received as a member of the 
United Order. The expression 
"you shall be a lively member" 
is a first principle with Latter- 
day Saints. They know that the 



active member receives the mani- 
fold blessings of participation, 
one of which is to know that a 
commandment is being lived. 
(D&C 42:40.) 


1. What are the keys of the Priest- 
hood? Who, today, holds these keys? 

2. What provision has the Lord 

made for the continuation of the 
keys of the Priesthood although the 
President of the Church dies? 

3. Discuss: "Remember the cov- 
enant wherewith ye have covenanted 
one with another." 

4. What warning did the Lord give 
in Section 90 that is applicable to us 

5. What value do you think Sections 
91 and 92 are to you? 

Truths to Live By From the Doctrine and Covenants 

Christine H. Robinson 

Message 72 — "He that Seeketh Me Early Shall Find Me, and Shall Not 

Be Forsaken" (D&C 88:83) 

For First Meeting, May 1966 
In the Southern Hemisphere, for October 1966 

Objective: To stress the importance of seeking and finding the 

Lord as early as possible in our lives. 

■ Both King David and his son 
Solomon reaHzed the wisdom of 
seeking and finding the Lord 
early in their lives. David, the 
psalmist, sang, "O God, thou art 
my God; early will I seek thee" 
(Psalms 63:1). Solomon records, 
"I [the Lord] love them that love 
me; and those that seek me early 
shall find me" (Proverbs 8:17). 

David, who became one of the 
greatest of all Israel's kings, 
sought the Lord while he was 
very young and thus became a 
chosen vessel. When the great 
prophet Samuel, who also had 
sought and found the Lord early, 
was searching for a future king to 
take Saul's place, he came to 

Bethlehem. By commandment of 
the Lord he sought one of Jesse's 
seven sons. Jesse, the proud 
father, brought his sons before 
Samuel and thought surely the 
Lord would choose his eldest. 
"But the Lord said unto Samuel, 
Look not on his countenance, or 
on the height of his stature . . . 
for the Lord seeth not as man 
seeth; for man looketh on the 
outward appearance, but the 
Lord looketh on the heart" (I 
Samuel 16:7). 

The Lord had chosen David 
because he had sought him early 
while still only a boy and his 
heart was fully in tune with the 
Lord's spirit. 



When Solomon, as a very 
young man, was selected to 
succeed his father David as the 
king of Israel, he, too, had sought 
and found the Lord early in his 
life: "Solomon loved the Lord, 
walking in the statutes of David 
his father" (I King 3:3). 

In response to the Lord's call, 
Solomon said, "And now, O 
Lord my God, thou hast made 
thy servant king instead of David 
my Father: and I am but a little 
child: I know not how to go out 
or come in" (I Kings 3:7). Solo- 
mon then petitioned the Lord 
that he be given an understand- 
ing heart so that he would be 
wise in judging and guiding his 

It is a significant fact that so 
many of the great leaders in the 
Lord's work have sought and 
found the Savior early in their 
lives. Jesus himself was about 
his Father's business when he was 
only twelve. The Prophet Joseph 
Smith opened the door for the 
restoration of the gospel and 
ushered in the dispensation of 
the fulness of times when he was 
only fourteen. 

Why is it that the Lord ad- 
monishes us to seek him early? 
Surely one reason is that in our 

youth our minds and spirits are 
more malleable and teachable. 
At an early age our minds are 
not cluttered with misinforma- 
tion which builds doubt and 
scepticism. Obviously another 
reason is that the earlier we seek 
and find the Lord the longer we 
will have to grow and develop 
under the influence of his spirit. 
Certainly the presence of the 
Lord's spirit is a great blessing 
and we should seek to enjoy it 
as early as possible. We must not 
procrastinate. For as the prophet 
Amulek declared, "I beseech of 
you that ye do not procrastinate 
the day of your repentance" 
(Alma 34:33). Also, through his 
modem Prophet, the Lord has 
declared "behold, I come quickly 
. . . and they who have sought me 
early shall find rest to their 
souls" (D&C 54:10). 

The important conclusion we 
must draw from this instruction 
from our Father in heaven is that 
we must seek the Lord earnestly 
and diligently if we expect to 
find him. Under his divine plan 
of personal free agency, he will 
not force himself upon us. He will 
come to us only if we sincerely 
and wholeheartedly seek him. 


Lael W. Hill 

Having lost much, 

The heart learns cherishing 

Of small treasure . . . 

As, after the great green 
Tumult of the tide, 
Edge of shore left lonely 
Holds in a secret pool 
Tag-ends of seaweed 
And broken little shells. 


Hazel S. Cannon 

Cleanliness Is Next to Godliness 

, (A Continuation) 

For Second Meeting, May 1966 
In the Southern Hemisphere, for October 1966 

Objective: To discuss and demonstrate various cleaning techniques and 
procedures and to show the value of efficient cleaning 

equipment and supplies. 


A clean orderly home lifts the 
heart and spirit. The scriptures 
speak of a house which is ''swept 
and garnished," and Oliver Gold- 
smith, English poet, writes fond- 
ly of "his lov'd partner" and the 
"cleanly board." Latter-day Saint 
women have long been known for 
their thrift and industry in car- 
ing for their homes. "It will last 
longer if it's clean," echoes their 
feelings as they strive to protect 
and beautify the home and its 
furnishings. Decisions pertain- 
ing to cleaning equipment and 
supplies and specific cleaning 
methods must be made constant- 



The housewife is often con- 
fronted with an amazing and 
confusing array of cleaning 
equipment and supplies. These 
aids may be helpful, but some- 
times they represent a poor in- 
vestment, and over a period of 

time do not prove to be the 
easiest and most efficient, after 

Most home equipment special- 
ists agree that other than a good 
vacuum cleaner, equipped with 
attachments for dusting and dry 
soil removal and "getting into" 
difficult spots, cleaning equip- 
ment and supplies should repre- 
sent a nominal investment. 

To Discuss: 

1. What questions might you ask 
yourself to determine whether pur- 
chase of new cleaning equipment and 
supplies is justifiable? Note to lead- 
ers: Try to elicit the following ques- 
tion responses from the class — How 
often will I use it? Can I use it for 
more than one cleaning job? Will it 
save more time than another article 
which I already own? Will it be easy 
to use or operate, to carry, and to 
store? Will it eliminate heavy work 
such as stooping, bending, lifting, and 
stretching? In terms of the saving of 
time and effort is the cost reasonable? 

2. How would you advise a young 
couple relative to the cleaning equip- 
ment and supplies which they should 
buy in setting up housekeeping in a 



small apartment in your locality? 
These might be listed quickly on the 
chalkboard under "Item" and "Why 
Chosen." It might be pointed out by 
the leader that rebuilt vacuum clean- 
ers, if purchased from a reputable 
dealer, are much less expensive than 
new ones and are quite satisfactory. 
(A re-built machine is constructed of 
good used parts.) 


1. Are you a water enthusiast? Too 
much water, used time after time, 
for washing floors can be damaging 
to wood and other substances. 

2. Use abrasive scouring pads spar- 
ingly and only when absolutely nec- 
essary on surfaces and floors, as they 
tend to destroy finishes. 

3. A snowy bright dishcloth (in 
most cases it is a cloth, not a rag) 
can give you a lift as you work about 
the kitchen. If your dishcloth gets 
dingy between washings, soak it in a 
small amount of water to which a 
little chlorine bleach has been added 
(according to directions). The sink is 
ideal for this; both cloth and sink 
will be brightened. Rinse well. 

4. A heavy coat of furniture wax 
(it is actually composed of several 
thin layers) will prove to be tender, 
loving care for furniture surfaces. It 
will help the wood resist spots, stains, 
and scratches. Tables of all kinds, 
especially those used for dining, are 
protected in this manner. A little 
additional wax and "elbow grease" 
will remove old layers of wax. Always 
polish funiture with the grain of 
the wood. There are a few new wood 
finishes, however, which should not be 
waxed. Your furniture dealer will 
direct you. 

5. Add two or three tablespoons of 
vinegar to a bucket of water in clean- 
ing windows. It will clean efficiently 
and make them shine. Use this same 
solution on linoleum floors between 
soap washings. It will keep wax re- 
moval to a minimum. Many house- 
wives like to polish windows with 
crumpled newspaper, or a chamois 
may be used for the complete opera- 
tion, rather than a cloth. 

6. Remove scratches from dark 
furniture by dyeing with iodine or a 
commercial preparation. For lighter 
woods apply the cut surface of a wal- 

nut or a Brazil nut, or use a com- 
mercial scratch remover "stick." 
Mineral oil will help to conceal 
scratches on natural woods. 

7. A mild, simple cleaning agent 
for general cleaning consists of soap 
jelly made by dissolving one cup of 
mild soap flakes, soap shavings, or 
detergent in one quart of boiling 
water. Pour into a wide-mouthed con- 
tainer and when congealed, use for 
various cleaning needs. Mamy modern 
women still prefer using their own 
homemade soap for both cleaning and 
laundry purposes. 

8. A very effective cleaning solution 
for mediimi and dark colored natural 
wood finishes is one quart of hot 
water, three tablespoons of boiled lin- 
seed oil (available at paint and hard- 
ware stores), and one tablespoon of 
turpentine. Apply sparingly with a 
cloth, keeping moisture away from 
glued joints, until soil is removed. 
Polish with a clean, dry, soft cloth. 

9. To remove grease spots from 
wallpaper use dry cleaning fluid 
sparingly (use the non-flammable 
cleaner.) If spots do not respond, 
apply French chalk or dry magnesia 
(available at drug stores) mixed with 
the dry cleaning fluid. Use a mini- 
mum of the fluid, keeping mixture 
just moist enough to adhere to the 
wall. Allow to dry and brush off. 
More than one application may be 
necessary. Experiment in an incon- 
spicuous place first to see if paper 
will spot from the cleaning fluid. 
This method is usually very effective. 

10. Sponges have many uses in clean- 
ing. They are easy to handle, leave 
no lint, and can be squeezed dry with 
one hand. The newer cellulose sponges 
are less expensive than the natural 

11. Commercially treated cloths for 
quick touch-up metal polishing are 
great time savers. 

12. One-half cup of ground glue 
added to a gallon of hot water will 
clean lightly soiled natural finished 
woodwork without harming the finish. 
It is especially fine for knotty pine 
and other natural finishes. The solu- 
tion comes off with the next washing. 

To Discuss: 

Case Study: Mr. and Mrs. Allen 
are a retired couple. Their average- 



sized home is the happy gathering 
place for their married children and 
grandchildren, and bears the stamp 
of being truly "lived in." How would 
you solve Mrs. Allen's cleaning prob- 
lems, giving the cleaning product to 
be used, the equipment, if any, and 
the method: 1. Several small food 
and grease spots on the off-white, 
plain textured wallpaper in the living 
room (may have been soiled at a 
recent family buffet supper). The 
paper bears the label "washable," 
which means very limited use of mois- 
ture. 2. All-over soil on the floral 
patterned, cotton tapestry-covered 
lounge chair in living room. 3. 
Scratches and some removal of finish 
from legs and rungs of dining chairs. 
4. Black marks from shoes on the 
asphalt tile in the combination dining 
and family room. 5. An accumulation 
of hard water marks on the outside 
of the kitchen bay window, caused by 
the spray from the garden hose. 


Homemaking and housekeep- 
ing constitute the biggest busi- 
ness in the world today. Try the 
new, but hold fast to the old if 
it serves your purpose. Find the 
very best way of cleaning every- 
thing in your home. When you 

have problems, consult those 
people whose specialty it is to 
help you — the home economics 
departments of your local high 
school or university, government 
bulletins, dealers in home fur- 
nishings, the press, and, of 
course, the many delightful books 
and homemaking magazines. 
Housekeeping is truly every- 
body's business. 

To Do and Think About: 

1. As part of the activities for the 
work meeting, a committee might 
demonstrate all or part of the follow- 
ing: (It might be well to use both 
commercial and homemade cleaning 
products) A. Cleaning and polishing 
of various metals such as aluminum, 
silver, brass, copper, etc. B. Sham- 
pooing of a small throw rug — it might 
be well to show a rug which has 
previously been shampooed by the 
same method and is now dry. C. 
Cleaning, removal of scratches, and 
polishing of a piece of furniture in 
Relief Society room, or a small piece 
of furniture brought from home. Two 
or more furniture finishes and /or 
colors in furniture might be used. 
D. The cleaning of any other items 
which it is felt would be beneficial to 
the class. 

Alberta H. Christensen 

Lesson 5 (Lesson 17 in Series) — Two Worlds As One 

For Third Meeting, May 1966 
For the Southern Hemisphere, July 1966 

Objective: To point out the need and the benefits of sharing one's 

world in the bettering of human relationships. 

LESSON 4 FOLLOW-UP previous month; namely, writing 

Discuss, briefly, progress made personal history or obtaining 

on Home-Doing suggestions of other material for making a Book 



of Remembrance which will meet 
suggested requirements. 


Although most marriage part- 
ners in our culture normally be- 
gin their marriage loving each 
other, something happens to an 
increasing number of these mar- 
riages which causes the husband- 
wife relationship to deteriorate. 
Too often the results are separa- 
tion or divorce. Far too often 
the early dream of togetherness 
results in a situation in which 
each member of the partnership 
seems to be living in a separate 

This lesson discusses how nat- 
ural differences in the roles of 
man and of woman tend to 
create two distinct worlds, and 
offers some suggestions for mak- 
ing these mold into a composite 
world of. mutual satisfaction. 


At the time of marriage, per- 
sonal aspirations and divergent 
interests, often, may be com- 
pletely set aside in the prospect 
of a joyous hfe, lived together 
and for each other. The marriage 
partners, moreover, may be un- 
aware of the cultural pattern in 
our society which tends to sepa- 
rate a couple — as the indepen- 
dent roles of wife and of husband 
become established, most of their 
waking hours are spent in 
spheres of widely divergent in- 

The husband's activities focus 
upon making a living for the 
family. Only occasionally do his 
activities or employment take 
place within the home. Often the 
work may require hours of daily 
commuting, or it may take him 

to distant areas prolonging the 
period of separation from his 
wife and family. 

The woman's activities center 
in the home. Within her domestic 
world, she is concerned with the 
details of homemaking and of 
child rearing. She is expected to 
make a good home, attending to 
all phases of housekeeping and 
homemaking. Thus, two indepen- 
dent worlds develop wherein 
each marriage partner often 
plays a role quite independent of 
the other. 

The foregoing division of re- 
sponsibility has been general 
throughout the centuries. Today, 
however, women in many coun- 
tries also may be employed out- 
side their homes. Individual 
circumstances may motivate a 
woman to share the financial re- 
sponsibility of the family. 

1. A young married woman may 
need to work temporarily in order 
that her husband may complete his 
college education. 

2. Physical disability of the hus- 
band may require a woman to work 
for an indefinite period. In such case, 
the husband often may assume some 
of the household duties. 

3. A woman whose children are 
married, may assume financially re- 
munerative civic or industrial posi- 
tions in order to occupy her spare 

Mention other circumstances. 


With this overlapping of the 
traditional roles of husband and 
wife — 

1. What may bring the couple into 
closer relationship? 

2. What may tend to separate 

3. What is the importance of the 
ability of the individuals involved to 
adjust to the situation? 



Do you think the following 
steps that a couple may realistic- 
ally take, in our society, will help 
their companionship grow closer 
rather than apart? 

1. Both husband and wife should 
become aware of the forces that tend 
to separate them. 

2. They should plan and take 
positive steps to offset these forces. 


Problem Illustration No. 1 

Grievances such as the follow- 
ing are not uncommon: 

Wife: My husband is so wrapped 
up in his business affairs that I feel 
alone, and completely left out of his 
world. He never tells me anything 
about his work. When I tell him how 
I feel about this, he says it's hard 
enough to work through the day and 
he doesn't want to relive it all at 

Were you the wife of this hus- 
band, what might you do to help 
him sense your desire to be a 
part of his "making a living 


1. You might show your interest 
in his work by asking questions at 
more appropriate times. 

2. You might offer to entertain 
some of his associates. 

3. You might tell him how proud 
you are that he is so competent in his 
field of activity, and that you would 
like to know more about how he 
accomplishes so much. 

4. You might express your need 
for his help in household budgeting. 

Problem Illustration No. 2 

Wife: When we were married, my 
husband and I both felt that we had 
many interests in common. We took 
occasional hiking trips into the hills, 

danced, went to the movies (cinema) 
and to the symphony. We even 
printed our own kodak pictures. Life 
has become more complicated with 
several children, and we feel that we 
cannot now afford some of these en- 
joyments. In fact, all my husband 
wants to do when he comes home 
from work is to eat his dinner, read 
the paper, perhaps watch TV, and 
go to bed. We never have any fun 

I have been at home all day, 
settling children's petty quarrels, 
doing housework, and I need some 
diversion — the lift that a change of 
scene would give. 

Obviously, the needs of this 
husband for relaxation and his 
wife's need for diversion are real, 
although completely opposite. 

1. Can these opposite needs be met 

2. How can this wife help her hus^ 
band to see that both needs are 
reasonable and can be met with satis- 
faction to each? 


1. Express more sympathetic un- 
derstanding of his need for relaxation, 
and appreciation for his desire to be 
at home. 

2. Suggest that perhaps they could 
plan for and spend one evening out 
together each week, which would 
meet her need for some diversion 
outside the home. 


All couples deserve and should 
reserve for themselves some little 
time for private discussions of 
their personal goals. This can be 
a most rewarding experience and 
should produce tangible benefits. 
Comment of a wife who moti- 
vates such private discussions 

Wife: Now that I know Bob's 
secret dream and aspirations, I am 
more sympathetic with his varying 
moods. I try to ease tensions within 
the home when I sense, that he is 



worried or deeply concerned about his 

Innumerable men have prof- 
ited from sharing their objectives 
and short-range plans with their 
wives by receiving genuine co- 
operation. Give concrete exam- 


The willingness to share one's 
world has meaning in relation- 
ships other than that of husband 
and wife. One meaning of its 
present use is to possess or en- 
joy in common. This implies that 
all who are involved in the 
sharing shall receive some degree 
of satisfaction — that which is 
shared need not be limited to 
material possessions, but may in- 
clude information, confidences, 
aspirations, etc. Note the follow- 
ing comments: 

Friend A: Agnes R — is a very dear 
but lonely person. She is not an in- 
timate friend, but often I bring her a 
gift from my travels to assure her she 
has my interest and affection. Re- 
cently she came to visit me but, see- 
ing that I was preparing to leave for 
a social appointment, she said she 
would come at another time. She 
seemed to be in a state of anxiety, al- 
though she did not say so. Shortly 
afterwards she moved to another 
town and I have recently learned that 
she is ill as a result of personal mis- 


1. If my appointment easily could 
have been postponed, should I have 
offered to do so? 

2. If it were necessary that I keep 
the appointment, should I have 
attempted to arrange for a definite 
return visit? 

3. How much more valuable would 
have been the gift of myself — my 
understanding in sharing her world 
of anxiety — than purchased gifts I 
have given he»-. 

The gift without the giver is bare; 
Who gives himself with his alms 

feeds three, — 
Himself, his hungering neighbor, 

and me" 


Vision of Sir Launfal). 

"The only gift is a portion of 


Friend B: I had always felt that 
Claire M--- was a person of unde- 
veloped, even undiscovered ability. 
Once when I was engaged in an in- 
teresting handicraft project I decided 
to invite her to my home. She replied 
that she had plenty of time but no 
talent for doing such things. As she 
watched each detail of the creative 
process, I saw her eyes light with in- 
terest. She wanted to try doing it 
also. Her skill with a brush was 
promising and imaginative. Each of 
us sensed that a field of new interest 
and accomplishment lay before her. 
Claire is now an expert painter, 
especially adept at restoring time- 
damaged designs on antique trays to 
their original beauty. 

How rewarding to have a casual 
friendship enriched by this shared 
interest. How grateful we both are 
that I made the effort to share my 
world of creativity with her! 

Give other examples from your 
own experience. 


While many women find their 
middle and later years as filled 
with interesting activity as were 
the earlier periods of their lives, 
there are millions of women for 
whom this is not so. Often they 
may find that when the children 
are married or away at college, 
and their own household duties 
greatly diminished, they have 
many hours for optional use. 
They may wonder, for the first 
time in their lives, what to do 
with their time. 

These hours can become in- 
valuable to the woman who 



knows how to use them construc- 
tively. Self-appraisal by a Latter- 
day Saint woman may reveal: 

1. Inherent talents, neglected dur- 
ing the years of child rearing, school- 
teaching, or other professional em- 

2. The opportunity (previously 
neglected) to engage actively in 
genealogical work. 

3. The need to enrich the relation- 
ships of friend to friend, neighbor to 
neighbor, or wife to husband. 

4. The opportunity to give in- 
creased Church service. 

Case Studies of the "Empty Nest" 

Woman #1: When our last child 
"fluttered" from the nest, I began 
somehow to feel less needed, less use- 
ful. Looking around for activities to 
fill this particular void, I soon dis- 
covered that I stood upon the thresh- 
old of a wonderfully enriching world. 
I decided to do two things: 

1. Bring more of the outside world 
into my home and my own 
thinking by reading what I had 
never before had time to read. 
(What would you choose to 

2. Enrich my world by sharing it 
with my neighbors and farther- 
away friends. (How might this 
be done?) 

Woman #2: With no children to 
monopolize mealtime conversation, 
my husband and I suddenly realized 
how many of our responses revolved 
around our children's Hves and in- 
terests. We sat at the table for several 
mornings in almost strained silence — 
like familiar strangers. 

"What will you be doing at work 
today?" I finally asked. 

"Same things as yesterday," he re- 
plied drably. 

This was hardly enlightening, since 
I did not know what he did yester- 

"How about you?" he asked. 

"Same thing as yesterday, plus 
grocery shopping," I replied. 

What an enthusiastic way to greet 
a new day! Surely an undernourished 
relationship needed to be strength- 
ened and enriched. 

I knew that many couples recognize 
the value of shared hobbies in keeping 
their relationship progressively satis- 
fying. That evening I listed them 
thus: gardening, home decorating, 
golfing, wood refinishing, handicrafts, 
fishing, television viewing, music, and 
painting. Some of these were readily 
ruled out as unsuitable for us. Some 
were interests of earlier years and 
might be pleasantly reactivated. 

We are not artists, we are not 
musicians, we are not expert crafts- 
men, but we are molding a world of 
appreciation for these arts by seeing, 
listening, and working together. 

Woman #3: I know that love is the 
strongest of all motivating agents and 
that where a marriage is solidly 
based, the middle years may become 
a rich flowering of the marital rela- 
tionship. I have begun to show my 
husband I am interested in his world, 
and I now compliment him for virtues 
which I have taken for granted for 
years. As a result, we now share more 
than the same salary, more than the 
same house — we are sharing two 
distinct, but interesting worlds. 

Woman #4: Tom is too practical 
for poetry, I have often said. Just too 
practical. He doesn't really dislike it, 
I suppose. He is just indifferent to it. 
One day, a few months ago, I came 
home from Relief Society brimming 
with enthusiasm for The Ancient 
Mariner, by Samuel Taylor Cole- 
ridge, which we had discussed in 
meeting. I introduced Tom to the 
moral aspects of the poem, even read 
a few stanzas, the ones I like best. 

That was the beginning of a shared 
interest. Last night he brought me a 
gift. (No, it was not my birthday!) 
Just a surprise gift. I opened the 
parcel breathlessly. It was, of all 
surprises, a book of poems. Upon the 
flyleaf he had copied these famous 
lines from Robert Browning: 

Grow old along with me! 
The best is yet to be. 
The last of life, for which the first 
was made. 
Our times are in his hand 
Who saith, "A whole I planned; 
Youth shows but half. Trust God; see 
all, nor be afraid!" 



Think what I would have missed, 
had I not invited him into my world! 


Since there are many forces 
in our society which may tend to 
separate, unless couples con- 
sciously or by special temper- 
ament or intuition, take steps to 
safeguard and preserve their in- 
terest in and affection for each 
other, their respective roles may 
tend to move them apart. This 
tendency to grow apart, however, 
can be overcome. Attention to 
small but important factors often 
is all that is necessary. Aside 
from the binding force of religion 
and of children, changing one's 
attitude and actions, even in 
small ways, may work the mira- 

The teenage son who resents 
certain tasks because he doesn't 
get thanked for doing what his 
mother says he should naturally 
do, may become the husband who 
doesn't like to be taken for 
granted; who would appreciate 
being thanked for what he con- 
siders are special favors, how- 
ever small they may be. He de- 
serves such thanks. 

"Thank you," "Please," "I do 
appreciate," "I'm sorry," and "I 
love you," which are the magic 
words of childhood do not lose 
their potency by overuse or 
through the years. They remain 
the ever magic key to happy 
adult relationships. 

Latter-day Saints truly are 
blessed in their knowledge that 
the union of husband and wife 
may be eternal and they should 
make every effort to minimize 
the temporal forces that tend to 
separate. With this concept ever 
in mind, they will realize that the 
roles of husband and of wife 
really need not be separate, for 
they are interdependent, each 
complementing the other. They 
will know that gospel living is the 
great factor which can effectively 
mold and maintain their two 
worlds as one. 


The following questions, in 
addition to those which arise in 
the class discussion: 

1. Excluding religion, what one 
factor do you consider most impor- 
tant in maintaining: 

a. a happy marriage relation- 

b. a happy friend-to-friend re- 


1. Initiate one activity which may 
become a mutual interest for you and 
your husband; for you and a neighbor 

2. Invite, in some subtle way, hus- 
band or friend to share in some 
present interest of your world. Note 

3. Enlarge your own world by 
reading or listening to facts about 
your husband's or a friend's special 


Dear Lord, bless me that I may make this portion of eternity beautiful 
and happy to those I love and for those whose lives touch mine. 

— Patricia Sykes 


Dr. Bruce B. Clark 

Lesson 15 — Facing Death — Part II 

(Text: Out of the Best Books, pp. 443-444 and 448-472) 

For Fourth Meeting, May 1966 

In the Southern Hemisphere, for October 1966 

Objective: To help us view death with confident 
affirmation rather than with dread. 

■ The lesson for this month cov- 
ers five short poems and one 
longer poem, plus excerpts from 
four other poems — all concerned 
with the subject of death. As 
Latter-day Saints we understand 
that there are two deaths: physi- 
cal death, which is the temporary 
separation at the close of mor- 
tality of the spirit from the body; 
and spiritual death. We also 
understand that all people, how- 
ever righteous or sinful, will, 
through the resurrection of 
Christ, triump over physical 
death to a reuniting of the spirit 
and the body at the time of resur- 
rection. Triumph over spiritual 
death through the atonement of 
Christ is also available to all 
people, but only those who repent 
of their sins and obediently live 
the laws and ordinances of the 
gospel will fully overcome spiri- 
tual death and live in eternal ex- 
altation in the celestial kingdom. 
In earlier lessons we have seen 
how literature explores the prob- 
lem of sin and triumphs over sin. 
This lesson is concerned, more 

particularly, with physical death 
and the assistance that literature 
can give in cultivating healthy 
attitudes towards it. 


Probably the most solemn ex- 
perience shared by all humanity 
is the inescapable fact of death 
— which comes to every mortal 

How we as human beings act 
and react in the face of death is 
and has always been one of the 
principal concerns of literature. 
Even more than love, death has 
been the central focus of literally 
thousands of novels, dramas, 
stories, and poems. 

In their views on death, writers 
tend to reflect the variant atti- 
tudes of people as a whole. Some- 
times they fear it as mysterious 
and unknown, or look forward to 
it as a step toward eternal pro- 
gression. Sometimes they dread 
it as a condition or suffering in 
consequence of mortal sin, or 
anticipate it as a place of bliss 
after mortal suffering. Some are 



merely curious about it, or de- 
fiant of it, or resigned to it. 
Others treat it tenderly and some 
brutally. Still others speak of it 
optimistically or pessimistically, 
sometimes with sad beauty, and 
sometimes with grotesque ugli- 
ness. Theologically, a writer may 
either look on death as the end 
of existence, or he may look on 
it as a doorway to continued life. 
On pages 448-452 of Out of the 
Best Books are printed excerpts 
from four poems by James Thom- 
son, Edward Fitzgerald, A. C. 
Swinburne, and Robinson Jeffers 
which give extremely negative 
and pessimistic views on death, 
ranging from hedonism (the doc- 
trine that pleasure is the highest 
good), to nihilism (total disbe- 
lief in religion or in established 
laws). The reason these are in- 
cluded in the text is that the 
beauty and truth of the affirma- 
tive poems with which this lesson 
is primarily concerned are height- 
ened by the powerful contrast of 
the negative poems. 


For a full printing and discus- 
sion of the six poems developing 
attitudes fundamentally harmon- 
ious with the gospel, the reader 
will need to see pages 453-472 of 
Out of the Best Books. Space 
here will permit only briefer 
treatment, but still sufficient to 
feel the basic faith of these 
poets. First let us turn to Sonnet 
146 by William Shakespeare 

Poor soul, the center of my sinful 

Rebuke these rebel powers that thee 

Why dost thou pine within and suffer 


Painting thy outward walls so costly 

Why so large cost, having so short a 

Dost thou upon thy fading mansion 

Shall worms, inheritors of this excess, 
Eat up thy charge? Is this thy body's 

Then, soul, live thou upon thy ser- 
vant's loss, 
And let that pine to aggravate thy 

Buy terms divine in selling hours of 

Within be fed, without be rich no 

So shalt thou feed on Death that feeds 

on men. 
And Death once dead, there's no more 

dying then. 

This poem is not difficult as 
soon as we realize that the word 
"soul" refers to what we normally 
call the spirit, and that the "sin- 
ful earth" is the physical body, 
which in line 9 is also referred to 
as the "servant" of the soul. 
Shakespeare, in vivid, eloquent 
language is appealing for us to 
stop wasting so much time, 
money, and concern on the "fad- 
ing mansion" of our body; rather 
we should cultivate the growth 
of the spirit within. For surely 
a tenant would be foolish to 
spend a fortune on a rented 
mansion with only a short-term 
lease. Therefore, Shakespeare 
concludes, "Within be fed, with- 
out be rich no more." This central 
idea of the poem is summarized 
in the beautiful closing couplet 
asserting that men should "feed 
on Death, that feeds on men" — 
that is, look through death to the 
life beyond, for once death is ex- 
perienced, men will live immor- 


The sonnet "Death Be Not 
Proud" by John Donne (1571- 



1631) is similar in both manner 
and language to Shakespeare's 

Death, be not proud, though some 

have called thee 
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art 

not so; 
For those whom thou think 'st thou 

dost overthrow 
Die not, poor Death; nor yet canst 

thou kill me. 
Form rest and sleep, which but thy 

pictures be, 
Much pleasure; then from thee much 

more must flow; 
And soonest our best men with thee 

do go — 
Rest of their bones and souls' delivery! 
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, 

and desperate men. 
And dost with poison, war, and sick- 
ness dwell; 
And poppy or charms can make us 

sleep as well 
And better than thy stroke. Why 

swell'st thou then? 
One short sleep past, we wake 

And Death shall be no more: Death, 

thou shalt die! 

Death is here personified as 
proud and arrogant in its seeming 
triumph over life, but "Be not 
so" says the poet. 'Those whom 
you think you conquer do not 
really die. Your victory is tempo- 
rary and incomplete. You can- 
not really kill men; for after a 
short sleep in the grave, we wake 
eternally. Then death is no 
more. Indeed, death itself shall 


Shakespeare's and Donne's 
sonnets were written centuries 
ago, but modern poets have also 
lifted their voices in exultation 
that life ultimately triumphs over 
death rather than vice versa. One 
of the strongest modem voices 
has been that of the great Welsh 
poet Dylan Thomas (1914-1953), 

whose powerful ''And Death Shall 
Have No Dominion" is printed 
on page 457 of the text. In the 
poem, Thomas vigorously de- 
clares the power of life over the 
power of death.. Though the 
body be lost in the depths of 
the sea or smashed into frag- 
ments or otherwise totally de- 
stroyed, yet that which is vital 
and eternal shall live on — "And 
death shall have no dominion." 
Though even the mind, broken by 
disease or experience, may go 
mad, yet it shall be restored to 
its full faculties — "And death 
shall have no dominion." More- 
over, not only life, but also the 
ideals we live by, are eternal: 
lovers may be untrue, men may 
lose their faith, and evil may 
dominate a human personality; 
but still Love and Faith and 
Goodness shall live on — "And 
death shall have no dominion." 


This month's lesson also covers 
two poems, "Prospice" and 
"Rabbi Ben Ezra," by Robert 
Browning (1812-1889), whose 
vigorous affirmation of life's val- 
ues here and hereafter we have 
already seen at various times 
earlier in these lessons during the 
past two years. "Prospice" is 
sufficiently brief that it can be 
printed in full here: 

Fear death? — to feel the fog in my 
The mist in my face, 
When the snows begin, and the blasts 
I am nearing the place. 
The power of the night, the press of 
the storm. 
The post of the foe; 
Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a 
visible form. 
Yet the strong man must go. 



For the journey is done and the 
summit attained, 
And the barriers fall, 
Though a battle's to fight ere the 
guerdon be gained. 
The reward of it all. 
I was ever a fighter, so — one fight 
The best and the last! 
I would hate that death bandaged my 
eyes, and forbore, 
And bade me creep past. 
No! let me taste the whole of it, fare 
like my peers. 
The heroes of old. 
Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad 
life's arrears 
Of pain, darkness, and cold. 
For sudden the worst turns the best 
to the brave, 
The black minute's at end. 
And the elements' rage, the fiend- 
voices that rave. 
Shall dwindle, shall blend. 
Shall change, shall become first a 
peace out of pain, 
Then a light, then thy breast, 
O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp 
thee again, 
And with God be the rest! 

This little poem, whose title 
means "look forward," is Brown- 
ing's most direct expression of 
belief in immortality. Two ideas 
form the poem. One is simply a 
courageous attitude towards the 
experience of death: he has faced 
all Hfe's experiences with vigor, 
and he will not now shrink from 
this final experience. The other 
idea, more philosophical, is the 
climax that ends the poem, as 
with great confidence. Browning 
anticipates the time when he will 
reach through death to reunite 
with his beloved wife {"O thou 
soul of my soul"), who had re- 
cently died. In order fully to 
understand and appreciate this 
poem, we need to know that it 
grows out of the extraordinarily 
beautiful love, courtship, and 
marriage of Robert Browning and 
Elizabeth Barrett. After fifteen 

years of rich marriage, Mrs. 
Browning died in Italy in 1861, 
and sometime thereafter Brown- 
ing wrote "Prospice," expressing 
his confidence that their love is 
eternal. (For fuller comments on 
this beautiful love and marriage, 
see page 460 of the text.) 

Although it is too long to be 
printed in this Magazine, * 'Rabbi 
Ben Ezra" might well serve as 
the center of discussion for this 
month's lesson because it is both 
artistically and philosophically 
the richest of the six poems cov- 
ered. The robust vigor of its tone 
begins with its very first stanza: 

Grow old along with me! 

The best is yet to be, 

The last of life, for which the first 

was made. 
Our times are in His hand 
Who saith, "A whole I planned; 
Youth shows but half. Trust God; 

see all, nor be afraid!" 

Following this assertion that 
God formed man's life as a united 
whole, youth and age each being 
integral halves. Browning then 
moves, starting with stanza 3, to 
a rejoicing that man is not a 
mere animal living in the selfish 
needs of the flesh. Instead, we 
are allied to God, who provides 
the example of unselfishness for 
us. "A spark disturbs our clod" 
— the spark of the divine spirit 
that inhabits the mortal body and 
separates man from the animals. 
Therefore, because of our im- 
mortal spirits that need to grow 
through the challenges of earthly 
experience, we should "welcome 
each rebuff" and "sting" and 
"pain" that are steps along the 
road of endless progression. We 
should accept life's challenge to 
"strive," "learn," "dare." Man 
is a mere brute unless the spirit 
within his body aspires to subdue 



and live above the desires of the 
animal flesh. But man does as- 
pire. This is why he is man, and 
all according to the "whole de- 
sign" of the Creator. "Perfect I 
call the plan," says Browning in 
stanza 10. And even as youth 
and age are two halves of mortal 
life, so body and spirit are two 
halves of man's total essence, 
each necessary to the other. 
(Stanzas 11 and 12.) 

Stanza 13 is a key passage in 
the poem, for here Browning 
states that, matured by life's ex- 
periences, man is "a god, though 
in the germ" — one of the most 
explicit statements in all litera- 
ture harmonizing with the Lat- 
ter-day Saint doctrine that men 
and women have the potential to 
become gods and goddesses. Note 
also Browning's rejection of the 
"scientific" theory of evolution 
that man is merely a "developed 
brute." Man has a divine spirit, 
says Browning, setting him for- 
ever apart from all other forms 
of life on earth. 

Beginning in stanza 14, Brown- 
ing makes another analogy: Even 
as youth and age are halves of 
the whole of mortal life, and body 
and spirit are halves of the whole 
of man's essence, so mortal life 
and life after death are related 
parts of continuous existence — 
and Browning says he is ready to 
start on his "adventure brave and 
new" of life beyond death. The 
past and the present are both 
preparations for the future, and 
all are united in a perfect plan. 
Therefore, do not be afraid to 
face death, he says in stanza 19; 
for even as seeking should char- 
acterize youth, so knowledge 
should characterize age. And this 
can be "knowledge absolute" he 
says in stanza 20, reaffirming his 

position in stanza 21 when he 
adds, "Let age speak the truth 
and give us peace at last." 

I realize. Browning says in 
stanza 22, that for every man 
who believes as I do about life 
and death and immortality, there 
may be ten who believe other- 
wise. The way of the world is to 
be weak in faith and to argue 
(see stanza 26) that since life is 
fleeting and the future uncertain, 
we should seize the pleasures of 
today. In answer to this point 
of view. Browning makes one of 
his strongest statements in the 

Fool! All that is, at all. 
Lasts ever, past recall; 
Earth changes, but thy soul and God 

stand sure. 
What entered into thee, 
That was, is, and shall be. 

(from Stanza 27) 

Man's mortal existence. Brown- 
ing repeats in stanza 28, is simply 
part of God's perfect and im- 
mortal plan, a school wherein 
man's soul can be given direc- 
tion and growth. Look up, there- 
fore, not down (stanza 30), and 
trust in God's divine wisdom, fol- 
lowing his plan that will shape 
men to perfection for the eternal 
life ahead. 

Surely this is one of the great 
short religious poems of the 
world, and especially so to Lat- 
ter-day Saint readers because its 
views are so beautifully harmoni- 
ous with truth. The poem can be 
read in full on pages 461-466 of 
Out of the Best Books and is also 
easily available in almost any 
other book containing some of 
Browning's poems. In it Brown- 
ing does not give Latter-day 
Saint readers theological knowl- 
edge beyond that we already 
have. The gospel gives us the 



fulness of religious truth. Even 
so, it is reassuring to discover 
that one of the great poets of the 
world, in one of his major poems, 
expresses thoughts harmonizing 
with the truths of the scriptures. 

"We Are Seven" 

The final poem in this month's 
lesson is "We Are Seven" by Wil- 
liam Wordsworth (1770-1850). 

Like the "Intimations of Immor- 
tality" ode, "We Are Seven" has an 
especial appeal to Latter-day Saint 
readers, because, although among all 
people there is a hopeful yearning 
that the family unit may endure be- 
yond the grave, the Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints is ap- 
parently the only Christian church 
which officially teaches that the 
family unit may so endure. On this 
theme, and on the scriptural idea 
that we can sometimes be led by 
children and learn wisdom out of their 
spontaneous, intuitive feelings, "We 
Are Seven" is written (Text, page 

Although this poem is fairly 
short, there is not space to print 

either the poem or a full discus- 
sion of it here. Literature leaders 
desiring to use it — and we assume 
many will, because the poem is 
very simple and lovely — will need 
to turn to pages 469-472 of Out 
of the Best Books. 

Thoughts and Questions for Discussion 

1. In line 11 of his sonnet Shake- 
speare counsels us to "buy terms 
divine." In the light of the sonnet 
as a whole, what does this phrase 

2. The climax of Donne's sonnet is 
the statement, "Death thou shalt 
die!" Explain the meaning of this. 

3. Explain as fully as possible in 
Dylan Thomas' poem the meaning 
of the refrain "Death shall have 
no dominion." 

4. As evidenced by "Prospice" and 
"Rabbi Ben Ezra," point out spe- 
cific places in which Browning 
shows insight into religious truth 
regarding death and life after 

5. Is the little girl in "We Are Seven" 
intuitively wise or merely impul- 
sive and stvibbom? Explain. 


Christie Lund Coles 

You yearn to go beyond this willowed time, 
Of lupin skies and twilights, dreaming-long; 
You yearn to hear the brightly clarion chime 
Of distant bells that peal, enticing, strong. 

You look into the future and you see 
A vision of the promise that your hope 
Shapes of the years ahead, unbounded, free, 
Quite unencumbered in their width and scop>e. 

Oh, do you not know, child, that herein lies 
The magic that we covet all our days? 
The cargo that no riches ever buys 
The memory of enchantment's golden ways? 

All of the wonder of these things are yours. 
Embrace this moment that both sings and soars. 


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841 West 3600 South 

Bountiful, Utah 84010 

Phone 295-6898 


January 21, 1966 

26 days 




February 18, 1966 

Flying both ways 


April 21, 1966 

Ship one way 


June 12, 1966 

Flying both ways 


Margaret Lund Tours 

3021 South 23rd East 

P. O. Box 2065 

Salt Lake City. Utah 84109 

485-2444 - 262-2337 


Shirley M. Howard 

The leaves are thick 
The branches low 
In this dark glen 
Where I must go. 
The path, if one 
Can call it so, 
Refuses grass 
Yet nettles grow. 
A foot can trip, 
A body fall 
To disappear 
In weeds grown tall. 

Some say 

In venturing a call 

The words will make 

No sound at all. 

At most they rise 

Where branch has thinned 

And blend as 

Whispers in the wind. 

Rather, in this 
World of dark, 
I think there waits 
A gleam, a spark, 
A thread of sun, 
A single ray 
Of gold to hold 
The light and say, 
"Here is the way, 
Here is my way." 

New Friend 

Ethel Jacobson 

There is something more aware 

In the air. 

The cedars wear a sheen 

Of deeper green. 

And lark song strikes the ear 

More blithe and clear. 

Horizons circle wide, 

With love inside. 

And life has a rich bouquet, 

For today 

Brought me this dividend: 

A new friend. 


Stella Hatch 

Life closes in and we take for granted the wonderful blessings that are ours. 
So try each morning when you awaken, to say, "This day will bring some 
lovely thing." Just as surely as you do, life will bring it! You will see it and 
recognize its beauty. 

As you go on day after day, you'll find that you will be looking carefully 
for these bits of joy. For instance, as I came out of the chapel on Sunday, a 
tiny child grasped my knees. It was my grandson. I felt a thrill go through 
me because I love him ^o and he is so sweet. I gave a dear sister a ride. She 
had on a print dress that looked refreshing, and her conversation was about 
her gratefulness to the Lord that she was eighty-four years old, and in good 
health. It made me want to live long. I saw a baby begin to walk; grandpa 
giving candy to eager, little boys; saw cherries hanging in clusters and felt 
the warm sun on my face as I picked them. 

Most important, you must look in places where loveliness has a struggle 
to be: such as a home where disorder and quarreling abide. Where you go in 
to help and feel a cahn peace invade the room and a friend inspired to do 
better. You help a young mother who can't get out often by tending her 
children, doing up the dishes and, perhaps, making a cake. This brings a 
warmth around the heart. Really, it isn't anything except giving of oneself, 
and this is always a lovely thing. 



A sure way of keeping alive the valuable in- 
struction of each nK>nth'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 
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Mail or bring the editions you v/ish bound to 
the Deteret News Press for the finest of service. 

1600 Empire Road, Salt Lake City, Utah 84104 
Phone 486-1892 

Cloth Cover — $3.25; Leather Cover — $5.25 

Yearly Index Included 

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 

Zone 1 and 2 55 Zone 6 90 

60 Zone 7 1.05 

Zone 3 
Zone 4 
Zone 5 


Zone 8 1.20 

Oakland and Los Angeles 

March 3, 1966 

Time for those who wish to go 
to temples 

Cardston and Idaho Falls 

June 17, 1966 

Hawaiian Lei Day Tour 

April 23 - May 8 

Northwest Tour 

June 25 -July 2 

Hill Cumorah Tours 

July 1966 

James Travel Tours 

460 7th Avenue 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84103 

Phones: 363-5229 - 359-8051 




Mrs. Mary Evans Ne\ 
Tooele, Utah 


Mrs. Nancy E. Walker 
Augusta, Georgia 

Mrs. Jane Clark Angus Banks 
Bancroft, Idaho 

Mrs. Elizabeth Emma Slade Carroll 
Mancos, Colorado 

Mrs. Mirinda Snow Frandsen 
Provo, Utah 

Mrs. Elizabeth Jensen Terou 
Hamilton, Montana 

Mrs. Amanda Hendricks Price 
Grid ley, California 

Mrs. Minnie Crum Carnes 
Safford, Arizona 



Mrs. Alice Wadsworth Simpson 
Hooper, Utah 

Mrs. Elizabeth Brown Holland 
Cardston, Alberta, Canada 

Mrs. Elida Emily Crosby Haycock 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Aretha Mariah Bates Gieason 
Prescott, Arizona 

Mrs. Ellen Bickmore Larsen 
Preston, Idaho 

Mrs. Elsie Robergen Helmlsh Reichar. 
Gloversviiie, New York 


Mrs. Mary Smith 
Fillmore, Utah 

Mrs. Carrie M. Freeman 
Maramec, Oklahoma 

Mrs. Caroline Ringle Steed 
Washington Terrace, Utah 

Mrs. Am mar Elizabeth Pickett Bott 
Burley, Idaho 


Mrs. Grace Smith Hill 
LaCrosse, Wisconsin 

Mrs. Mary Melissa Christensen 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Ella Hoge Budge 
Boise, Idaho 

Mrs. Margaret Barclay Gardner 
Spanish Fork, Utah 


In beautiful White Pass in Mount Rainier National Park, we passed Kautz 
Flood area where, in a huge valley, the trees have all died because the roots were 
smothered and could not get air. With all the necessary water and plant food, 
they died even as gardens sometimes do, too. The flood-packed debris around 
them suffocated them. There was no one to work the soil. 

They stand as mute evidence of an important law of life: without the work 
of cultivation for plants, trees, and man, the rot of idleness sets in to destroy. 

Caroline Eyring Miner 


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this inspiring book. Each parable is taken and 
analyzed in depth by an author who is a recog- 
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Residents of Utah, please add V/2% sales tax. 
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at Salt Lake City, Utah 

"Catch me. Daddy. . ." These familiar words express the trust of a child in his 
father. He jumps with the full confidence that you will be there to catch and care for 
him. This trust extends to his faith in your provision 
for his future, too. You can best assure it with a 
Beneficial Life plan to suit your needs and income. 


(ymuianee ^^>nu>anu 

VirgU H. Smith, Pr<L Sail Lakf Qty, Uuk 


Volume 53 Number 3 


* i 

#V ftjtt 

'jf*^p i' 


A--'-." =***■ 



1^ :X^.^^^'... -r 

-'-^-^ ':"%^.. 






'i '^ vl! ' * 

MARCH ig6b 

Katherine F. Larsen 

. . . Low hills, lovely with green, fresh green, and 

ever-recurring green, 
Merging into hills gentled under soft blue haze. 
Dreaming ancient dreams, as in an old country . . . 
How you rise and lead the jaded eye, soothing it, 
Out of the straight hot teeming streets and highways 
Hard and fast over the abiding countryside. 

And there, there in your soft hills folded, the old 
Strong trees preside, and hover protectingly over 
The nestling houses, the small homes, the rooftrees 
Harboring hearts and hopes ... as ever. . . . 

Hearts and hopes — old, gentle words, forgotten, or 
Almost forgotten, as the byways that still wind upward 
Into the softened contours of the old hills. . . . 

. . . Who now has time to wander, to wonder, to reach 
Downward to roots, back to the times and a time when 
Hills, homes, hearts, hopes were a balm . . . 

And love a word one could rest upon? 

The Cover: Tulip Time, Transparency by Camera Clix 

I Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

Frontispiece: Folded Hills of the Wasatch, Utah 
Photograph by Dorothy J. Roberts 

Art Layout: Dick Scopes 
Illustrations: Mary Scopes 


The Magazine has been a great com- 
fort to me while being on a Church 
Building Mission. I have been in Hel- 
sinki, Finland, for two years, and in 
Bergen, Norway, for a year and a half. 
When I was in Finland, I would take my 
Magazine with me to Relief Society and 
sit and read the lessons in English 
while the sisters were enjoying them 
in Finnish. The Magazine also helped 
me in preparing talks for Church, The 
little Haaga Branch in Helsinki, Finland, 
has one of the best organized Relief 
Societies that I have attended in the 
mission field. The group was small, 
but made of humble, loving sisters. But 
now they have a new chapel and a 
beautiful room and they are proud of 
it. I hope the sisters in Bergen will 
enjoy their new chapel and room when 
the building is finished. The sisters in 
Bergen are busy knitting Norwegian 
style sweaters for their building fund. 
They do beautiful work. 

Mildred Johanson 
Bergen, Norway 

I feel I must write and say thank you 
for the Relief Society Magazine which 
I sincerely appreciate and enjoy read- 
ing each month. I am always enrap- 
tured with the lovely pictures of trees, 
mountains, and lakes used as cover 
pictures, for I love all the things of 
nature that God has given for our 
enjoyment. I see his touch in every- 
thing, and, regardless of what man is 
doing, it will always be a beautiful 
world to me. 

Ella Palmer 


New South Wales 


Our Magazine is one of so few that I 
keep. We don't have much room to 
keep things, but this is one I will 
keep. A woman gave me some of her 
Magazines, and these I keep with mine. 
How she could give away the Maga- 
zine is beyond me, with all the helps 
and spiritual, uplifting material in it. 

Mrs. Sherri Jonte 
San Pablo, California 

Just a word to express my appreciation 
for The Relief Society Magazine. I have 
used back issues, as well as each cur- 
rent issue, over and over again in the 
mission, for work projects, talk topics, 
and personal inspiration. Our Indian 
sisters love the Magazine, too. Many of 
them have expressed their appreciation, 
especially for the poetry and the lovely 
color illustrations. The conference ad- 
dress, "Love, the Measuring Rod," by 
Counselor Marianne C. Sharp (in the 
November 1965 issue) must have been 
written for my particular benefit. 

Estella L Farmer 

Relief Society Supervisor 

Northern Indian Mission 

Rapid City, South Dakota 

I agree with Mrs. Openshaw's comment 
(in the January issue of the Magazine) 
about Dorothy Roberts' poem "Yester- 
day's Gold." It haunts me, too. Years 
ago, Dorothy, Margery S. Stewart, and 
I, and our three little daughters spent 
a day together in an autumn canyon, 
I can see the very gold-and-shadow 
spot of which she speaks. And I think 
her words were for all of us. I am 
proud to have these talented and 
beautiful women among my friends. I 
enjoyed all the poetry written by the 
contest winners in the January Maga- 
zine, The photography in the Maga- 
zine is exquisite. 

Christie Lund Coles 
Provo, Utah 

For several years now my dear cousin 
Mrs. Vera Pettit of Layton, Utah, has 
kindly been sending my family The 
Relief Society Magazine. As my hus- 
band and I prepare talks and lessons 
for Sunday services, with the children 
all taking part, we have on many 
occasions used messages and poems 
from the Magazine. The color photo- 
graphs are wonderful. We have had 
two missionaries call on us. They were 
wonderful young men. Long may the 
Magazine send out its truths. 

Barbara Kinnear 

Melton Constable 

Norfolk, England 



Relief Society Magazine 

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

Special Features 

164 Relief Society and Home Teaching Marion G. Romney 

170 The Importance of the Family Home Evening in a Latter-day Saint Home 

Elna P. Haymond 
178 Appropriate Music Materials Cleone R. Eccles 

189 You Can Help, Too Emil Henderson- 

191 The White Sands of New Mexico Claire Noall 

216 Visit of Queen Kapiolani to the Relief Society Jane Elizabeth Molen 


172 The Search for Katie Third Prize Story Lael J. Littke 

181 Little Ducks Can Swim Evelyn Fjeldsted 

211 The Portrait Changes Diane Whitelock 

220 Wheat for the Wise — Chapter 3 Margery S. Stewart 

General Features 

162 From Near and Far 

186 Editorial: The Sustaining Power of Relief Society Marianne C. Sharp 

188 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

226 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities 

240 Birthday Congratulations 

The Home -inside and Out 

190 Embroidery Adorns Her Quilts 

196 A Present for Grandma Celia Luce 

198 Divinity Easter Eggs 

200 A Golden Harvest of Knitting 

202 Blue and Yellow Springtime Table Florence C. Williams 

203 Quilting — Old As Ancient Yesterday — New As Today Louise W. Madsen 
218 My Priority List Winnifred C. Jardine 

Lessons for IVIay 

233 Work Meeting — Simplify the Job Hazel S. Cannon 


161 "From Whence . . . My Strength" Katherine F. Larsen 

The Gospel, Iris W. Schow, 169; The Year the Yuccas Bloomed, Ethel Jacobson, 185; On 
Limitations of Mortality, Lael W. Hill, 189; Flowers of Tomorrow, Dorothy J. Roberts, 
201; A Quilter, Caroll Orton, 210; Returning March, Elizabeth Cottam Walker, 217; On the 
Mountain, Melba S. Payne, 225; Growing Accustomed, Kathryn Kay, 232; My Mother's 
Country, Christie Lund Coles, 235; For a New Stepdaughter, Vesta N. Fairbairn, 236. 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints. ' 1965 by the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main 
Street, Salt Lake ^City, Utah 84111; Phone 364-2511; Subscription Price $2.00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c 
a copy, payable in advance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers can be sup- 
plied. 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 Oc- 
tober 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 manu- 

Relief Society 


Home Teacliing 

Elder Marion G. Romney 

Of the Council of The Twelve 

[Address delivered at the Stake 
Board Session of the Relief Society 
Annual General Conference, 
September 30, 1965.] 

■ I know this has been a long 
day for you, sisters, and, coming 
at the end of the session as it 
does, after this deUghtful presen- 
tation, what I have to say to you 
may be a bit dry. The subject I 
have in mind to discuss was sug- 
gested by the ReHef Society 
Presidency. You might, therefore, 
have in mind an experience of a 
friend of mine who said that when 
he was a young man on the 
western frontier giving one of his 
first talks, he noticed in the far 
end of the hall a couple of restless 
cowboys who didn't seem to be 
very satisfied with his perform- 
ance. At the conclusion of his re- 
marks, they came up the aisle, 
one hand on their pistols, in the 
other their lariats. Taking note of 
his extreme nervousness, they 
said, "Young man, don't you 
worry. We know you did the best 

you could. What we're looking 
for is the fellow who brought you 

The subject I was asked to 
discuss is "Relief Society and 
Home Teaching." As background, 
let us keep in mind as we con- 
sider it, the fundamental truth 
that a knowledge of and conform- 
ance to the gospel of Jesus Christ 
are indispensable to a successful 
mortal life. 

Because it is so important that 
men be taught and encouraged to 
live the gospel, the Lord himself 
has set up a pattern by which 
this is to be done. 

Essential aspects of his pattern 
include five steps: 

1. God's revealing the gospel to 
his prophets. 

2. The prophets testifying thereof. 

3. Teaching of children by parents. 

4. Support of the Priesthood. 

5. Assistance by the auxiliaries. 



This pattern has been followed 
from the beginning. God the 
Father in the Garden of Eden 
personally taught Adam and Eve. 
After they had been banished 
from his immediate presence, 
they still "heard the voice of the 
Lord from the way toward the 
Garden of Eden" (Moses 5:4). 
As a reward for Adam's obedience 
to the Lord's commandments, an 
angel was sent to teach him the 

Mormon refers to this pattern 
as an established practice. He 
says that God himself, and angels 
sent by him, declare "the words 
of Christ" unto "chosen vessels 
of the Lord" — prophets — 

. . . that they may bear testimony 
of him. And by so doing, the Lord 
God prepareth the way that the resi- 
due of men may have faith . . . that 
the Holy Ghost may have place in 
their hearts . , . and after this manner 
bringeth to pass the Father, the 
covenants which he hath made unto 
the children of men (Moroni 7:31, 32). 

Having taught Adam, the Lord 
instructed him to teach his chil- 
dren ". . . I give unto you [he 
said] a commandment, to teach 
these things freely unto your 
children . . ." (Moses 6:58). 

"And Adam and Eve . . . made 
all things known unto their sons 
and their daughters" (Moses 5: 

The scriptures indicate that 
like instruction to parents has 
been given in all dispensations. 

Speaking of Abraham, the 
Lord said: "... I know him, that 
he will command his children and 
his household after him, and they 
shall keep the way of the 
Lord. . ." (Gen. 18:19). 

". . . teach" the words of God 
"diligently unto thy children," 
said Moses to Israel, "talk of 

them when thou sittest in thine 
house, and when thou walkest by 
the way, and when thou liest 
down, and when thou risest up" 
(Deut. 6:7). 

The Book of Mormon is filled 
with references to such teachings. 
Nephi spoke of his parents as 
being "goodly" because they 
taught him "in all the learning 
of" his father. 

Enos judged his father to be a 
"just man" because "he taught 
me in his language, and also in 
the nurture and admonition of 
the Lord — and blessed be the 
name of my God for it" (Enos 


King Mosiah instructed his 
people that if they believed they 
would teach their children "... 
to walk in the ways of truth and 
soberness; ye will teach them to 
love one another, and to serve 
one another" (Mos. 4:15). 

Other scriptures reveal the fact 
that God's teaching plan requires 
that his Priesthood and other 
Church organizations supplement 
parents' teaching. 

Both the Old and the New 
Testaments speak of Priesthood 
and auxiliary organizations. Like 
facilities and congregations were 
common among the Nephi tes. 
King Benjamin's great farewell 
address was delivered to an im- 
mense gathering. (Mosiah, Chap- 
ters 2-4.) 

When Jesus ministered among 
the Nephi tes, he spoke of their 
"synagogues, or . . . places of 
worship" (3 Nephi 18:32), and 
said unto them "behold, ye shall 
meet together oft" (3 Nephi 18: 

Mormon says they did meet 
"together oft both to pray and 
to hear the word of the Lord" (4 
Nephi 1:12). 


MARCH 1966 

Moroni winds up the Nephite 
record on this matter by saying, 

And the church did meet together 
oft, to fast and to pray, and to speak 
one with another concerning the wel- 
fare of their souls. 

And they did meet together oft to 
partake of bread and wine, in remem- 
brance of the Lord Jesus (Moroni 

This ancient teaching pattern 
is still in force. As in the be- 
ginning, so in this dispensation, 
the Lord has revealed the gospel 
to chosen vessels by personal 
visitation, by the words of his 
own mouth, and by the minister- 
ing of angels. The prophets have 
borne testimony of the truth re- 
vealed. Many men have, by the 
power of the Holy Ghost, under- 
stood and accepted it. Again, 
parents have been directed to 
teach their children. 

In harmony with his ancient 
pattern, the Lord has, in this day, 
also, called his Church with its 
Priesthood and auxiliaries to 
supplement parents' teaching. As 
early as 1831 he inaugurated the 
sacrament meeting when he said, 
"And that thou mayest more 
fully keep thyself unspotted from 
the world, thou shalt go to the 
house of prayer and offer up thy 
sacraments upon my holy day" 

We could trace through the 
organization of the Priesthood 
quorums, their functions and re- 
quired meetings, as well as the 
various auxiliary organizations — 
Relief Society, Sunday School, 
Mutuals, and Primary, the Gene- 
alogical Society, Church schools. 
Project Temple, Firesides, and 
other teaching and training pro- 
grams — ^but this is not the time 
or place. Suffice it to say that 

pursuant to the foundation reve- 
lations and the continued inspira- 
tion of the Lord, there are now 
available to Latter-day Saints 
under Church supervision suffi- 
cient revealed knowledge, know- 
how, and facilities to teach every 
member of the Church the gospel 
of Jesus Christ. 

Presently, the leadership of 
the Church is engaged in a major 
effort to correlate all Church 
teaching, both doctrine and ac- 
tivities, to the end that with 
balanced emphasis, and without 
undue repetition or omissions, 
every child, youth, and adult in 
the Church may, under the in- 
fluence of the Holy Spirit, be 
taught in the home and in Church 
organizations the gospel of Jesus 
Christ. In this correlated pro- 
gram both the Priesthood and 
the women in Relief Society have 
a great role to play. To accom- 
plish our objectives will require 
parents; Priesthood bearers; and 
quorum, auxiliary, school, and 
other organization leaders to 
learn their "duty, and to act in 
the office in which" they are "ap- 
pointed, in all dihgence" (D&C 
107:99). All these organizations 
are represented on the Church 
Correlation Committee, which 
views them all together as a com- 
posite, home-centered Priesthood 
Teaching Program. 

In harmony with the revela- 
tions, the first and basic objective 
of Church Correlation was to 
place the Priesthood and the 
home in their proper place. To 
this purpose much time and effort 
have been devoted. 

A major portion of the Priest- 
hood's responsibility is to be 
carried out through Home Teach- 

The primary place of the home 



is being emphasized in the pro- 
gram for teaching the gospel in 
the home in the weekly Home 

In the Lord's teaching pattern 
the work assigned to the Relief 
Society ranks high in the service 
required of the Church through 
its auxiliary organizations. You, 
of course, know that the Relief 
Society is the only auxiliary 
organized by the Prophet Joseph. 
You also know that some of its 
main functions are: 

To manifest benevolence, irrespec- 
tive of creed or nationality; 

To care for the poor, the sick, and 
the unfortunate; 

To minister where death reigns; 

To assist in correcting the morals 
and strengthening the virtues of com- 
munity life; 

To raise human life to its highest 

To elevate and enlarge the scope 
of woman's activities and conditions; 

To foster love for religion, educa- 
tion, culture, and refinement; 

To develop faith; 

To save souls; 

To study and teach the gospel. 

You are aware, too, that the 
Relief Society organization is 
calculated to serve and bless 
every woman in the Church. In 
pursuit of this objective, we need 
to make some real improvement 
in two services: 

(1) In soliciting new member- 
ship enrollments and 

(2) In increasing attendance 
of members at Relief Society. 

Relief Society and the Home 
Teaching should cooperate and 
get these jobs done. To this end 
there is much that you can do. I 
feel certain that you are striving 
to make your meetings and other 
activities so interesting and 
worthwhile that those who attend 
once will desire to return and 

make their attendance regular. 

Your Relief Society visiting 
teachers can, of course, encourage 
the members they visit to attend 
Relief Society, and all members 
can invite their personal friends 
to enroll and attend. Official 
Church enlistment service, how- 
ever, is the divine assignment of 
the Priesthood. The Lord so des- 
ignated it at the time the Church 
was organized. 

In the same revelation in which 
he advised the Prophet Joseph 
Smith the exact day on which to 
organize the Church, the Lord 
told him that the calling of Mel- 
chizedek Priesthood bearers is, 
among other things, to "watch 
over the church" (D&C 20:42), 
and that ''The priest's duty is to 
. . . visit the house of each mem- 
ber, and exhort them to pray 
vocally and in secret and attend 
to all family duties" (D&C 20: 

"The teacher's duty is to watch 
over the church always, and be 
with and strengthen them. . . . 
And see that the church meet 
together often, and also see that 
all the members do their duty" 
(D&C 20:53, 55). 

The foregoing assignments in- 
clude getting women to Relief 
Society as well as getting Church 
members to Sacrament meetings, 
to the temple, Priesthood meet- 
ings and all other Priesthood and 
auxiliary functions. 

Priesthood Home Teaching is 
the Church's official program 
through which men of the Priest- 
hood are, in part, to magnify their 
callings in the Priesthood as set 
out in the 20th Section of the 
Doctrine and Covenants. Home 
Teaching is not limited in its 
function to a particular area of 
Church activity, such as teaching 


MARCH 1966 

the gospel in the home, missionary 
service, genealogical, or Church 
Welfare work. Seminary, Insti- 
tute, or specialized auxiliary 
assignments. Its obligation is, 
rather, to support all these pro- 
grams and activities and to en- 
courage, motivate, and inspire 
the membership of the Church to 
perfect their lives by availing 
themselves of the gospel teaching 
and training provided in all these 
activities, including the Relief 
Society. If you sisters can grasp 
this concept and keep it in mind, 
you can perform a great service 
in helping to get it over to your 

The duty to perform the serv- 
ice of a home teacher is inherent 
in the acceptance of ordination 
to the Melchizedek Priesthood, 
and to the office of priest and 
teacher in the Aaronic Priest- 
hood. I cannot see how a Priest- 
hood bearer can willfully refuse 
to do Home Teaching without 
violating the oath and covenant 
which belongeth to the Priest- 
hood, and which every Melchize- 
dek Priesthood bearer takes upon 
himself. Home Teaching is one of 
the services by which Priesthood 
bearers magnify their calling and 
qualify for the great promise that 
"... whoso is faithful unto . . . 
magnifying their calling, are 
sanctified by the Spirit unto the 
renewing of their bodies," and 
become members of "the church 
and kingdom, and the elect of 
God" (D&C 84:33-34). 

In the Home Teaching Pro- 
gram, under the supervision and 
direction of the bishop, a pair of 
Priesthood home teachers are 
assigned to each family. So far 
as help to Relief Society is con- 
cerned, they are, with an intimate 
knowledge of the total family 

situation, in an official Priest- 
hood position, to encourage, 
challenge, and inspire every pros- 
pective Relief Society member to 
enroll and every member to 
attend Relief Society. This they 
will do when properly moti- 
vated by their Priesthood lead- 
ers. Their Priesthood leaders will 
properly motivate them when 
they are properly instructed and 
challenged by the bishop. 

As Relief Society officers, your 
job — and it is indeed a very im- 
portant one — is to keep the 
bishop up against his responsi- 
bility in this matter. If your en- 
rollment or attendance has been 
falling off, or not increasing as it 
should, you will probably find 
you have not been doing this. 
Perhaps you have not known how 
to do it. Acting on this assump- 
tion, I will give you some sugges- 

At least once a month the bish- 
op is to hold a ward council 
meeting at a suitable time and 
place. It should be held when all 
members of the council can at- 
tend, and adequate time should 
be allowed to transact the neces- 
sary business. 

Members of the council in- 

The three members of the bish- 
opric, the Priesthood leaders 
who, under direction of the bish- 
op, direct the home teachers — 
normally there are at least five 
of these Priesthood leaders — and 
executives of all ward auxiliary or- 
ganizations, including, of course, 
and of first importance for these 
remarks, the president of the 
ward Relief Society. 

The Ward Relief Society presi- 
dent should have with her at this 
council meeting, specific, up-to- 
date information concerning each 



woman in the ward whom she 
wants home teachers to motivate 
to activity in Rehef Society. 

This ward council is the clear- 
ing house. It is the time and place 
where Home Teaching and Relief 
Society come together. It is an 
action meeting. If you don't make 
it function, the wheels of your 
membership enlistment and at- 
tendance programs cease to turn. 
Your responsibility in this meet- 
ing is to see that the Priesthood 
leadership is made aware of the 
help you need from them in your 
Relief Society assignment. 

Preliminary to this meeting, 
the ward Relief Society president 
should advise herself, through 
contact with the department 
heads of her ward organization, 
in a formal meeting or otherwise, 
concerning the women who are 
not receiving the blessing and 
privileges of Relief Society mem- 
bership and whom she wants to 

At the council meeting, the 
alert bishop will have already re- 
ceived reports concerning these 
women from the home teachers, 
through their Priesthood leaders. 

With this information and that 
given him by the Relief Society 
president, he can wisely counsel 
the Priesthood leader of each pair 
of teachers who will visit these 
women, how to proceed to get 
them active in Relief Society. 

If the home teachers should 
need the help of a Relief Society 
officer or teacher in working with 
any of these women, the Relief 
Society president can be so ad- 
vised by the bishop in the council 
meeting. Then, with this program 
efficiently working, no Latter-day 
Saint woman who should be in 
Relief Society need miss its 

Such is the relationship be- 
tween Priesthood Home Teach- 
ing and Relief Society. 

Organized by the Prophet. 

Led by earth's noblest women. 

Sustained by the faith and 
works of the whole body of the 
Priesthood, you cannot fail. 

God speed you on your divine 
assignment to help teach and 
train the women of the earth in 
the ways of the gospel of Jesus 
Christ, I humbly pray in his 
name. Amen. 


Iris W. Schow 

The gospyel is a flaxen tent 

Upon the desert of the earth; 

It is a purse whose contents, shared, 

Retain their undiminished worth. 

The gospel is a sparkling spring 
Whence living waters ever flow; 
A box of spikenard which has been 
Prepared against the hour of woe. 

The gospel is a fertile field; 

White for the harvesting it lies; 

And all who reap its sheaves of truth 

Shall see mankind through quickened eyes. 


The Importance 

of the Family Home 

Evening in a Latter- 
day Saint Home 

Elna P. Haymond 

Member, General Board of 
Relief Society 

[Talk Delivered at the General 
Session of the Relief Society 
Annual General Conference, 
September 29, 1965.] 

■ As I face this great audience 
of Relief Society workers, it 
comes most forcibly to me the 
tremendous potential power for 
good you sisters have in develop- 
ing testimonies of the divinity of 
Jesus Christ as the Son of the 
living God in the minds and 
hearts of the members of the 

To enable us to accomplish 
this, the General Authorities have 
provided for us a course of study, 
known as the Family Home Even- 
ing, where we can gather our chil- 
dren around us and teach them 
the gospel. This is to be a Priest- 
hood supervised evening, where- 
in the father is to take his place 
as patriarch and head of his 
family; where the mother takes 
her place at his side, that they 
may work together. 

Of what importance is the 
home organization? Where did it 
originate and what is its purpose? 
The late President J. Reuben 
Clark, Jr., in his inspiring talk on 
''Our Homes" (Relief Society 
Magazine, December 1940, page 
802), said, 'To the Latter-day 
Saint, the home is a holy place. 
It has its pattern in the Heavens. 
. . . Thus we came from a celestial 
home to this earth; we shall re- 
turn to a celestial home when we 
leave this world," — when all 
God's laws have been obeyed. 

This clearly states that we all 
belonged to a heavenly home 
where heavenly parents taught 
eternal truths, guided, inspired, 
and loved the children of that 
home. Does this inspire us to do 
the same, to accept the program 
as given to us, to work out a way 
whereby all families — large or 
small, old or young, few or many 
— can meet and follow the pro- 

President Clark further states 
that great laws have been given 
the Latter-day Saint family and 
by obedience to them and only to 
them will parents be enabled so to 
teach their children in righteous- 
ness that families will again re- 
turn to the celestial home. 

Special Relief Society lessons 
provide us subject material which 
is closely correlated with the 
Priesthood lessons and tie in with 
the outlined course to be given in 
the home. From these studies we 
are reminded of the place and 
position the father holds in his 
family. We are retold that in the 
Latter-day Saint home, the 
patriarchal order continues as it 
was ordained in the heavens. The 
father is the presiding authority 
in matters pertaining to the 
family organization, "The Priest- 
hood-born home is the loftiest 
spiritual organism of which we 
know" (Relief Society Magazine, 



December 1940, page 802). 

Having learned this great 
truth, it will be easier for the 
wife to give this recognition to 
the husband during the teaching 
of the Family Home Evening. 
Here the children will learn re- 
spect for the father, for the 
Priesthood, and will learn to 
honor both the father and the 
mother. Upon the father, as patri- 
arch of the family, rests the 
responsibility for the training 
and conduct of members of the 

With this knowledge of the 
origin, purpose, and destiny of the 
home, with its attending bless- 
ings, all effort should be made to 
create the proper atmosphere and 
conditions in the home prior to 
the appointed time for the 
family to meet. Friction, con- 
fusion, outside duties, or any 
other disturbing influence should 
be screened out in order that the 
father may have the spirit of the 
Lord to accompany the opening 
prayer. Plans for the program 
and assignments are to be made 
in advance. This will give the 
children a sense of belonging and 
of sponsoring the program. 

Since the mother spends so 
many hours in the home with her 
children, she becomes the princi- 
pal disciplinarian in early child 
life. Her discipline and influence, 
her example, determine in a great 
measure the ability of the chil- 
dren to live good, clean, moral 
lives, to take an active place in 
the Church, in the state, and in 
their own future homes. 

In order to fill this assignment, 
a special night is designated in 
each stake and ward so that out- 
side influences and appointments 
will not interfere. By divine 
authority, then, the evening may 

become a sacred time for the 

God will not hold guiltless parents 
who fail to do the most they have 
power to do to meet these responsi- 
bilities . . . {Relief Society Magazine, 
December 1940, page 808) . 

The Lord has not turned the 
training of the family in spiritual 
and moral truths over to the 
school, nor wholly to the Church. 
These truths are basic and must 
be started at the cradle in the 

To take her place, as a "help- 
mate" to her husband, a mother 
in Israel is given the choice, the 
favored, the divine injunction to 
train her children that she may 
prepare them for exaltation. 

We have been given a golden 
' opportunity, in the Family Home 
Evening, to teach them that: 

All this shall come to those who, 
obedient to God's law, shall be united 
together in the House of the Lord by 
the authority of the Holy Priesthood 
of God. All this can come to them 
through no other cause {Relief Society 
Magazine, December 1940, page 810). 

President Clark tells us that 
we must decide the place we shall 
hold in God's household, in God's 
family, in our Heavenly Father's 
eternal home, whether it shall be 
in the inner family circle or out- 
side in the halls and anterooms. 
This depends wholly upon what 
we ourselves do here, and upon 
what we teach our children. Much 
of this may be decided in the 
Family Home Evening. 

I would like to leave my love 
with you all and ask the bless- 
ings of the Lord on all of your 
righteous desires. It is my testi- 
mony that Jesus Christ, our Lord 
and Savior is the Son of the 
living God. 


Lael J. Littke 


The Relief Society 
Short Story Contest 

■ The mailman brought two 
letters on the day Kathryn Carl- 
son realized that she was no 
longer a person. One of them was 
addressed to her, a short note 
from her mother saying that 
Grandma Ames was failing fast 
and that it would be well if 
Kathryn could come right away. 
The other letter was for five- 
year-old Mimi. It was merely a 
form letter from a children's book 
club, but Mimi was enchanted. 

*'Mama," she marveled, gazing 
in wonderment at her own name 
on the envelope. "Mama, some- 
body knows I'm a person." 

Kathryn put aside, for the 
moment, her somber thoughts of 
Grandma Ames. She smiled at 
the little girl who had just dis- 
covered that she was an indivi- 
dual and that someone in the 
wide world beyond her home rec- 
ognized her as such. What could 
ever equal this discovery of self? 

*T'm a person," repeated Mimi, 

clutching the envelope tightly. 
''Just like Daddy's a person." 

"What about me?" Kathryn 
asked. "Am I not a person?" 

"You're a mother," Mimi said. 
She looked again at her letter, 
clasped it to her small chest, and 
skipped off to her room to medi- 
tate about herself and the world. 

Kathryn laughed softly to her- 
self. So now she wasn't a person. 

Walking back to the sink to 
resume the dishwashing which 
had been interrupted by the 
arrival of the mailman, Kathryn 
suddenly felt her scalp prickle 
with something akin to fright. 

Was she a person? How long 
had it been since she had thought 
of herself as a person, an indivi- 
dual personality, a self? She was 
in the habit of thinking of herself 
as a wife, a mother, a Sunday 
School teacher, P.T.A. president, 
cook, gardener, chauffeur, seam- 
stress, scrub woman, comforter 
when knees were skinned or feel- 


"You're a mother," 
Mimi said. 

ings bruised, dispenser of answers 
to questions ranging from John's 
early morning "Where are my 
socks?" to Mimi's unending 
"Why?" She was a chameleon- 
creature, changing from one role 
to another as necessity de- 

She was many things. But a 
person? An entity with needs and 
desires to be satisfied? Some- 
where that self had been split up 
into so many fragments that it 
no longer existed. She was a 
forty-one-year-old mother of four 
children. But what had happened 
to the person she had once been? 

Kathryn stared at her hands, 
submerged in the dishwater. 
Grandma would know what had 
happened to her. They had al- 
ways understood each other, the 
aging woman and the blithe 
young girl Kathryn had been be- 
fore she went away to school and 
marriage. She had been called 
Katie then. 

Kathryn thoughtfully sloshed 
the dishcloth across a plate, re- 
membering how she had run to 
Grandma when her parents 
couldn't understand why she 
wanted to go to an art school in 
another state. After all, the col- 
lege right there in town had an 
art department. Why did she 
want to leave home and go off 
somewhere so many miles away? 

"Some folks are homebodies," 
Grandma had said. "They figure 
the moonlight looks just the 
same on their side of the moun- 
tain as it does on the other side, 
so why go see? But some of us 
have to go away from all that's 
familiar to find out more about 
ourselves and sharpen up our per- 
ception. Sort of hone ourselves on 
the whetstone of the world, you 
might say." Grandma had smiled 
at Katie, the young, eager Katie, 
so impatient to be off to discover 
herself. "You're so much like me, 
Katie. I wanted to go away, too. 


MARCH 1966 

when I was young. I could sing 
a little, and I wanted to study 
for a concert career. But then I 
met Will Ames at a Church picnic 
and settled for a career that 
suited me just as well." Grand- 
ma patted her granddaughter's 
hand. "After all, the nicest part 
of going away is coming home 
again," she said. 

After Grandma had talked to 
Katie's parents, they agreed to 
let her go to the art school she 
wanted. She had gone away and 
"honed" herself, and had been 
pleased by the new interests and 
talents she found within herself. 

Then she met John Carlson 
and married him, settling down 
in that city over a thousand miles 
from her family. She had been 
happy, so happy that she didn't 
even remember when the eager, 
independent young Katie had 
disappeared to be replaced by a 
middle-aged woman, a little over- 
weight, a little tired and ha- 
rassed, a little gray. A woman who 
scarcely ever thought of herself 
any more. A woman called Kath- 

Kathryn's reverie was broken 
by a tug at her skirt. It was one 
of the many small people who 
passed through the house all day 
long. One of Mimi's friends. 

"Mimi's mother," said the 
timid sprite, "where is Mimi?" 

"I think she's in her room, 
Mimi's friend," Kathryn said. 

So we're even, she chuckled to 
herself. Neither of us has an 

She watched the solemn little 
girl walk from the room. 

I'm just Mimi's mother to her, 
she thought. To Joann's friends 
I'm Joann's mother. I'm also 
Diane's mother. And Bob's. I'm 

John's wife. But who am I really? 

She didn't tell her family that 
evening about not being a person. 
The children, from sixteen-year- 
old Joann to five-year-old Mimi, 
would just be puzzled. 

And John? Was she a person to 
John? Or was she just someone 
who was always there? She de- 
cided not to mention it to him, 
either. It was something she 
needed to find out for herself. 

Mimi showed the rest of the 
family her letter, slightly dog- 
eared by that time. Everyone 
laughed indulgently when Mimi 
refused to let anyone else so much 
as touch the precious envelope. 
Bob recalled how when he was a 
little kid (exactly two years ago) 
he had received a letter from 
Grandma Ames. He had been so 
proud, he said, and still had it in 
his treasure box. 

Kathryn brought out the letter 
from her mother and read it to 
John and the children. Although 
none of them had seen Grandma 
more than four or five times, they 
were all sorry that she was ill. 
They agreed that Kathryn should 
go to her bedside as soon as possi- 
ble. Of course they could get 
along while she was gone. She 
knew they were trying to make it 
easier for her to leave, but in her 
present touchy frame of mind 
she wondered if they would even 
miss her, except as a convenience. 

Thinking about it later, after 
she was in bed, Kathryn decided 
the trip would serve several pur- 
poses, besides permitting her to 
pay her love and respect to the 
little grandmother who meant so 
much to her. She could, as Grand- 
ma had said years ago, once more 
remove herself from her familiar 
surroundings and perhaps redis- 
cover who she was. Perhaps she 



could find out what had hap- 
pened to Katie Ames, who had 
once been a person. 

Grandma looked tiny and fra- 
gile in her enormous bed. She was 
ninety- two, but Kathryn still 
found it almost incomprehensible 
to think of her so quiet. Grandma 
who had always been so filled 
with vitality, who had scampered 
about fixing dinner for ten people 
even so recently as three years 
ago when Kathryn had last seen 

''She's not in any pain," her 
mother whispered into Kathryn's 
ear as they stood looking at 
Grandma. "It's as if she just wore 
out all of a sudden.'' 

Kathryn squeezed back the 
tears and walked toward the bed. 
Her mother put a hand on her 

"She may not know you," she 
cautioned. "Sometimes she's a 
little vague. Sometimes she says 
she doesn't know who she is." 

Kathryn nodded and walked 
to the bedside. She picked up the 
hand which lay inertly on the 
white coverlet. 

"Grandma," she said. "It's 

Grandma opened her eyes 
slowly, as if she were very tired. 

"Kathryn?" Her voice was like 
the tinkle of a tiny silvery bell. 

She gazed at Kathryn through 
the blue, blue eyes which had 
been the envy of all of her grand- 

"Kathryn." She sighed, a 
sound like the flutter of a bird's 
wing. "I don't know who I am 
any more." 

Mrs. Ames gave Kathryn a 
"see-what-I-mean" look. "Grand- 
ma," she said, "you'd better sleep 

Grandma shifted restlessly. 
"Grandma," she whispered. "Who 
is Grandma?" The frail hand 
picked at the coverlet. "If Will 
were here he would know who I 

"We'd better go now," Kath- 
ryn's mother said. "She shouldn't 
get upset." 

"Let me stay just a few min- 
utes. Mother," Kathryn whis- 
pered. Her mother tiptoed from 
the room. 

Kathryn looked at Grandma 
again. Couldn't they see what she 
needed? Was it only because she, 
Kathryn, was so much like 
Grandma that she could under- 
stand? Was there no one else who 
could think of her as someone 
other than Grandma'^ 

"Of course you know who you 
are," Kathryn said softly. 
"MeHssa Mary Bartlett, the 
prettiest girl in town." 

The blue eyes looked question- 
ingly at her. 

"Melissa Mary, with the crow's 
wing hair. Melissa Mary, with the 
summer sky eyes and the tiniest 
feet this side of the Rockies. 
Melissa Mary with the voice of 
an angel." 

A faraway look crept into 
Grandma's eyes. "I could hit D 
above high C," she whispered. 
She smiled. "Selina Courtney 
couldn't do that. She got to A, 

Kathryn stroked the hair which 
was as soft and white as the down 
from the cottonwoods outside. 
"Remember, Melissa Mary, when 
you wore the cornflower blue 
dress at the Church picnic and 
saw your Will for the first time?" 


Grandma had told her so many 
times the story of the picnic. 

"I knew how I looked in that 
dress," Grandma said. "Selina 
Courtney didn't have a chance." 
She_closed her eyes and smiled to 
herself, remembering. 

Kathryn thought she had gone 
to sleep. Then the blue eyes 
opened again. 

"Kathryn." The soft voice was 
barely audible. Grandma smiled 
and closed her eyes, and in re- 
pose her face was peaceful. "I 
wasn't always Grandma," she 
whispered, just before she drifted 
off to sleep. 

"I know," said Kathryn. "I 
know." She stroked the tiny hand 
she held until she was sure 
Grandma slept. "Goodbye, Mel- 
issa Mary," she whispered as she 
tiptoed from the room. 

Grandma died quietly in her 
sleep that night. Much as Kath- 
ryn would miss her, she was glad 
Grandma had gone on to rejoin 
her Will with the memory of her- 
self as the singing, blue-eyed girl 
Will had first seen and loved. 
She knew Melissa Mary's home- 
coming had been a happy one. 

Kathryn thought a lot about 
herself and Grandma in the few 
days she stayed after the funeral. 
She had come hoping that Grand- 
ma could help her one more time, 

but, instead, she had been able 
to help Grandma, for which she 
felt uplifted and rewarded. Per- 
haps this was part of the puzzle. 
When you were young you con- 
centrated on taking whatever 
would help you identify yourself 
as a person. As you grew older 
and became wiser and more ma- 
ture, you began giving of your- 
self and in doing so forgot your- 
self. But did this make you less 
of a person? Was not the giving 
of oneself even better than the 
discovery of self, more fulfilling 
than the indulging of self? Did 
it not indicate that you had be- 
come a bigger and better person, 
possessing qualities and capabili- 
ties you had not dreamed you 

Kathryn had not completely 
solved her problem by the time 
she boarded the train for her 
trip home, but she found it being 
pushed to the back of her mind 
by the prospects of seeing her 
family again. 

They were waiting for her on 
the platform of the train station. 
John managed to look dignified 
despite his eager grin. Bob and 
Mimi waved joyfully, and Joann 
smiled dreamily at the train as it 
slowed and stopped. 

Why, she's like I used to be, 
Kathryn thought. Dreaming of 
the time she can board a train or 
plane and be off to see the world. 
And Diane, who stood there trying 
to be grownup but wanting to 
shout with joy like the younger 
children — Diane's black hair was 
just like Katie's had been once, 
and like Melissa Mary's must 
have been. 

Young Katie is gone, Kathryn 
thought, whisked away by time, 
yet she is preserved in my chil- 


dren. Here, then, was another 
part of the puzzle. 

She scarcely had a chance to 
step from the train before the 
children swarmed over her, 
laughing, kissing her, welcoming 
her back. 

"Mom," said Bob, "It's no fun 
at home without you there." 

Mimi handed her the tattered 
remnants of her letter, the sym- 
bol of her discovery that she was 
a person. "I want you to have 
this," she whispered. 

Kathryn's heart was full as she 
listened to the happy chatter of 
their adventures in her absence. 
She could never doubt again but 
that she was a person, a Very 
Important Person, in their eyes. 
If Katie was gone, if she had 
been sacrificed to the needs of a 
growing family, then the compen- 
sations were well worth the loss. 

But was she gone? What was 
she really, except an attitude, a 
state of mind, a fresh and eager 
and searching outlook on life? 
Could she not be recaptured, as 
Grandma after such a full life 
had recaptured a memory of a 
former identity just before she 
went on to meet her Will? Surely 
that old zest for seeking and 
learning must exist somewhere, 
mingled in with the busy wife, 
mother, Sunday School teacher, 
P.T.A. president, person, who 
was Kathryn. 

The years that the children are 
dependent on you are so very 
brief, Kathryn thought. You 
brought them into the world and 
then were caught up in teaching 
and guiding and caring for them. 
Before you realized it they were 
going to school and then soon 
were off to seek their own places 


in the world, leaving you wonder- 
ing what to do with this person 
who had been so happy and ab- 
sorbed in the role of mother and 
all it involved, that she almost 
forgot there was any other way 
of life. 

Mimi would be starting school 
in another month. Would not 
this, then, be a splendid time to 
rekindle Katie's old interest in 
art, indulge in a few special 
classes, work a morning or two in 
her friend Clara's interior decor- 
ating shop? She would have time 
to cater to John's tastes in food, 
too, as she had done when they 
were first married, before they 
were involved in the peanut- 
butter world. Perhaps she and 
John could even take that 
dreamed-of trip, to see if the 
moonlight on the rooftops of 
Paris was as exciting as it 

Life was wonderful, Kathryn 
decided. The past had been busy 
and happy, and the years ahead 
were filled with promise, just as 
they had seemed to Katie so long 
ago. Nothing then, really, had 
happened to Katie, except that 
she had grown up. 

John had been standing quietly 
to one side, waiting for the chil- 
dren to finish their greetings. 
Now he came forward and 
handed her a single red rose, just 
like the first flower he had ever 
given her. 

"Welcome home, Katie," he 
said, smiling down at her. 

As she looked into his eyes and 
smiled back, Kathryn knew what 
Grandma meant when she said 
her Will would know who she 

For biographical sketch of Sister Littke, see page 210. 





■ Music is old and music is new. 
It has always existed. Reference 
to its use as an expression of 
praise and rejoicing in the pre- 
existent life is given in the scrip- 
tures, when the Lord asked Job: 
''Where wast thou when I laid 
the foundation of the earth? . . . 
When the morning stars sang to- 
gether, and all the sons of God 
shouted for joy?" (Job 38:4, 7). 

It is reported that there are 
1,325 references directly or in- 
directly to music in the Bible. 

Christ set the pattern for the 
singing of hymns at the time of 
the Last Supper, before he and 
the apostles went into the Gar- 
den of Gethsemane. Matthew re- 
corded: "And when they had 
sung an hymn, they went out in- 
to the Mount of OHves" (Matt. 

The importance of music has 
again been emphasized in this 
last dispensation. Soon after the 
organization of the Church, the 
Lord gave a revelation to the 
Prophet Joseph Smith in which 
he directed Emma Smith as fol- 

And it shall be given thee, also, to 
make a selection of sacred hymns, as 
it shall be given thee, which is pleasing 
unto me, to be had in my church. 
For my soul delighteth in the song 

Cleone R. Eccles 

Member, General Board of 
Relief Society 

[Excerpts from a talk delivered in 
the Music Departmental Meeting, 
of the Relief Society Annual 
General Conference, September 30, 

of the heart; yea, the song of the 
righteous is a prayer unto me, and 
it shall be answered with a blessing 
upon their heads (D&C 25:11-12). 

The Relief Society recognized 
the great spiritual power of music 
when it organized the first Sing- 
ing Mothers chorus in 1914. 

The June 1965 Rehef Society 
Magazine reports that there are 
now 43,711 Singing Mothers in 
3,113 choruses or an increase 
over last year of 211 choruses. 
We hope that these choruses will 
continue to increase until there 
is a Singing Mothers chorus in 
every ward and stake in the 

Sister Florence Madsen has 
said, ''Every ward should have a 
Singing Mothers chorus whether 
large or small. If there are but 
two members, find a director and 
start rehearsing. Others will soon 
become interested." As many wo- 
men as possible should become 
affiliated and enjoy the social and 
cultural experiences a chorus pro- 
vides. For some women this is 
the only opportunity they have 
for self-expression. 

I have never heard a poor Sing- 
ing Mothers chorus. True, some 
have been better than others, 
and some have been exceptional. 
The choice of music usually has 



oeen good. The conventional 
white blouse and dark skirt 
adopted by the Relief Society, 
are attractive and lend a unified 
appearance. Care should be used 
in the seating of the chorus, 
placing the taller and larger wo- 
men in the back rows and the 
smaller ones in front. 

If the music program for the 
year is planned early in the sea- 
son, it will create enthusiasm and 
stimulate interest in rehearsals. 

An active Singing Mothers 
chorus is a great strength to 
Relief Society, as the sisters are 
ready to sing when needed. They 
are prepared to sing for ward 
functions and can readily be 
assembled into a large stake 
chorus for conferences and con- 

It is important to have stake 
and ward librarians catalogue all 
music owned by the organiza- 
tions, and to know at all times 
where it is. If the stake chorister 
knows what music is available in 
the wards, it may save buying 
music for a stake concert. 

Encourage the sisters to take 
music home with them to study. 
If they will do this it will take 
much less time to learn a song. 
But keep a careful list of who 
has the music. 

Some singers may have diffi- 
culty reading music, so the dif- 
ferent parts should be rehearsed 
separately. If this is not done 
with the more difficult songs, the 
altos and second sopranos will 
always feel insecure in their parts. 

When choosing music, leaders 
should make sure that the songs 
are appropriate for the occasion, 
as to text and music. Use songs 
that express our Latter-day Saint 
philosophy. Avoid songs that 
bring Deity down to man's level. 

Dr. Stanley Armstrong Hunter 
said that words have a far reach, 
and yet there are tremendous 
regions beyond. Music carries 
words to far places, where they 
can never go alone. Music gives 
life and soul to words. 

All great music has a great and 
lofty text. During an interview, 
Caruso, the world's greatest op- 
eratic tenor, was asked, "Where 
do you locate the source of ex- 
pression in singing?" His answer 
was: "I find it in the words al- 
ways. For unless I give my listen- 
ers what is in the text, what can 
I give them?" 

In building a repertoire, choose 
songs of such worth that they 
can be sung over and over again, 
and still present some challenge 
and joy to the singers. 

You will find a splendid listing 
of sacred and secular songs in 
''Music Leadership in the Relief 
Society," by Florence J. Madsen, 
graded Easy, Medium, and Diffi- 
cult, in two and three part ar- 

Singing Mothers programs may 
be built around a subject chosen 
from the scriptures, or from the 
works of composers and poets. 
Correlating musical numbers may 
consist of solos, duets, organ, 
strings, etc., as well as the spoken 
word. You may find instrumen- 
talists in your wards and stakes 
who are waiting for just such an 
opportunity to revive and use 
their talents. 

Frequent use should also be 
made of the hymns in the back 
of the hymn book that are ar- 
ranged for women's voices. There 
are also program suggestions in 
Chapter 10 of this same little 
book of Sister Madsen's. To 
name a few: 


MARCH 1966 

Stories of Latter-day Saint Hymns 

Stories of other Christian hymns 

Music as a Missionary 

Seasonal programs, such as Christ- 
mas, Easter, Spring, etc. 

I have heard Sister Florence 
Madsen say that one of the great 
benefits of Singing Mothers con- 
certs is to have the husbands and 
the famihes of the singers pres- 
ent to see and hear what their 
wives and mothers have accom- 
pHshed, and why it has been 
necessary for them to go to re- 
hearsals. President Belle S. Spaf- 
ford has said, "When we have a 
combination of beautiful music 
and beautiful women, willing to 
serve, who have a gift of song, a 
talent, and use it for the benefit 
of the Church, we have a crea- 
tion that is truly worthwhile." 

For the congregational singing, 
every song in the hymn book is 
a good song in its place, but the 
lesson material may be greatly 
enhanced by choosing songs that 
support the objective of the les- 

The Family Home Evening is 
the ideal time and place to en- 
.courage and develop the talents 
in the family. Let each member 
have some part on the program. 
They will never have a more in- 
dulgent and sympathetic audience 
to encourage and coax along their 
talents. Tommy may falter when 
playing the piano, and Mary^s 
squeaky violin may not enhance 
the accompaniment, but it is a 
wonderful learning process, and 
they are putting their music to 
practical use. I am reminded of 
the home orchestra of my child- 
hood and the many happy eve- 

nings we spent together as a 

There are songs suggested for 
each, lesson in the Family Home 
Evening Manual, but the pro- 
gram should be flexible to accom- 
modate the different age levels. 
Let the children suggest songs 
that they would like to sing. It 
may be a Primary song or one 
from the Recreational Song Book, 
or a familiar hymn. To me, the 
most important function of music 
on Family Home Evening is to 
have a happy time together on a 
spiritual level. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes said, 
''Purchase some kind of instru- 
ment for the home and see that 
its beneficent harmonies are often 
heard. Let music be as much a 
part of a day's routine as eating 
or reading or walking." 

Children who study musical in- 
struments should often be re- 
minded of the service they can 
give the Church as conductors 
and accompanists when they are 
qualified and ready. This train- 
ing is also invaluable in the mis- 
sion field. My grandson, who was 
a very difficult piano student at 
home, was very pleased to write 
to me while on his mission that 
he could play nearly a hundred 
hymns -from memory. Music has 
become a very important part of 
his life because he was able to 
see its practical application. 

I will close with the words of 
the great apostle Paul — ''Let the 
word of Christ dwell in you richly 
in all wisdom; teaching and ad- 
monishing one another in psalms 
and hymns and spiritual songs, 
singing with grace in your hearts 
to the Lord" (Col. 3:16). 


Little Ducks Can Sivim 

Evelyn Fj elds ted 

■ It was an early spring morning. 
The atmosphere held the aroma 
of a garden that had just been 
plowed. The buds on the lilacs 
were like little green candles 
ready to be lighted, and the daf- 
fodils in the corner of the fence 
like splashes of gold. 

My cousin Jenny came smiling 
through the doorway. She held a 
cardboard box, which she care- 
fully placed on a chair. She 
seemed very happy as she re- 
moved the cover displaying two 
tiny ducks. Lostlings, they seem- 
ed to be, for they were crying 
pathetically, each one trying to 
get closer to the other for com- 

''Our mother duck had so many 
little ducks she could not care 
for them all," Jenny was saying. 
''Mama said she was sure you 
would like to have these two. 
They must have different kinds 

of grain and drinking water. 
That's all." 

"How about a place for them 
to swim?" I asked, hoping to dis- 
courage her. I did not want two 
little ducks. 

"Oh, they don't really need to 
swim," Jenny said, "they get 
along very well without water. 
Please take them, Ann. They will 
like it here with you and John." 

However, when John came he 
said they should really be on the 
farm, but he thought this might 
be an interesting adventure, so 
we kept them. 

After Jenny had gone, I looked 
at the lonely little creatures. To 
care for them seemed such an un- 
usual task. I found myself wish- 
ing they would swim so far away 
they would never find their way 
back. They were such helpless, 
hungry little creatures, my only 
thought then was to feed them. 


MARCH 1966 

Day after day I fed them, and 
day after day they shoveled food, 
their Httle bills reminding me of 
little yellow shovels. 

John made a pen for them by 
cutting the bottom out of a large 
shallow cardboard box, and fast- 
ening coarse mesh wire over the 
top. This we placed on the lawn. 
As the days passed, we could al- 
most see them grow. 

One morning they seemed to 
be greatly disturbed. Finally, I 
went to investigate. One of them 
had managed to get through the 
wire and had found himself in the 
outside world. He was terrified. 
Not three feet away the cat was 
watching. He seemed to know 
something was wrong. He could 
have so easily hurt the little 
duck, but he didn't make a move 
to do so. When he saw me, he 
came running toward me, and 
while I was replacing the duck 
he just sat there and looked on. 
When the little duck was safely 
inside the pen the cat followed 
me back to the house. 

I wondered if two such little 
ducks could swim. Maybe all 
ducks, large or small, could swim 

I placed a large basin of water 
on the lawn, then carefully I 
placed one and then the other 

lot was a wire enclosure with a 
small shed at the back. This be- 
came their homing base for the 
next few months. 

When they had reached their 
full growth, they could wander 
about on the outside of the pen. 
When the sun was high they 
could stretch in the shade of the 
big Cottonwood tree. They also 
could swim in an old tub, which 
we kept filled with water from 
the hose. Later John made a 
pond for them with the waste 
water from an irrigation stream. 
We placed a box beside the tub 
and they soon learned that this 
was a step up to splash into 
the water, where they sailed 
around like a merry-go-round. 

They were ungainly creatures, 
tripping over their own big feet, 
which were turned slightly in- 
ward. They had to work hard to 
right themselves. 

When I called to them they 
would come half running and half 
flying across the lawn. Their run- 
ning ability was not great, but 
when they would fly, though 
not very high, they were beauti- 
ful and graceful as butterflies. 

the water. Using their webbed 
feet for paddles, they sailed 
around like little boats. 

They had grown so large now 
that the two of them almost filled 
the basin. Near the comer of the 

If they found the cat in their 
path they would each in turn give 
him a sharp peck. This was an 
insult he chose to ignore and 
complacently he looked into 
space as if they did not exist. 



Each evening I would walk up 
to fasten the latch on the little 
enclosure. When the nights were 
stormy the ducks would be 
sheltered back in the shed, and 
when I spoke to them they would 
answer reassuringly with sleepy 
little sounds. On moonlit nights, 
we could see them standing out 
in the open, side by side, as still 
and as artistic as two little white 
statues. With their heads held 
high, they seemed to be looking 
at the stars, wondering at the 
great silence they seemed to 

When an airplane droned 
through the valley skies, they 
would stop abruptly and stand at 
attention, looking upward with 
their heads turned slightly side- 
wise. With one little searching 
black eye, each duck telescoped 
the regions above. In this position 
they would listen intently until 
there was no more sound. They 
seemed to be wondering at this 
great high-flying mystery and 
were very quiet as they turned 
and walked side by side. 

Once when a small pattern of 
wild ducks sailed overhead so 
near to the earth they could be 
both seen and heard, the ducks 
sat down and watched and 
waited. Could it be that these 
little earth-acclimated creatures 
could in some unaccountable way 
sense a kinship with these sky- 
flying travelers that seemed to 
have some ancestral characteris- 
tics that belonged to them, too? 
When we turned the sprinkler 
on the lawn, near the outside, 
where the sprinkling was light, 
the ducks would weave in and 
out, following a kind of pattern. 
When they met they would play- 
fully touch bills, and often they 
would touch my hand. Then they 

would dart back toward the cen- 
ter where the waterfall was 
heavier, and where they could 
reach up and catch the dripping 
water in their clicking bills. 
Drinking seemed to be a part of 
the game or part of the ballet. 
When we turned the sprinkler 
off, their tail feathers would be 
drooping and their wings weight- 
ed with the dampness. Then they 
would streak off for a sunny place 
to shake out their feathers, and, 
for the sheer joy of living, they 
would stand upright like pen- 
guins and spread their wings like 
the brave fierce eagle stamped 
on the silver quarter. 

They must have heard the 
river, or perhaps instinct told 
them that somewhere it was roll- 
ing, singing through the valley 
and calling to them. This insis- 
tent calling must have had a deep 
meaning or message for them. 
One late afternoon they answered 
the call and set out to find it. 

They did not return that eve- 
ning nor the next, so John went 
with me to find them. We fol- 
lowed the river, a silver vein lead- 
ing to the highland reservoir, and 
we wondered how far a duck 
could swim. We looked for them 
in the willows along the rugged 
banks. We called to them and 
listened, but the only answer was 
that of the prairie winds and the 
splash of a fish in the water. We 
went farther on and searched the 
marshes, the coves where the 
watercress grew, and along the 
side streams until twilight fell on 
the countryside. 

One day we met Mr. Nelson, 
who lived out that way. John said 
to him, "Have you seen a pair of 
big white ducks out this way, Mr. 


MARCH 1966 

"Well, come to think of it," he 
said, '*I did see a couple of ducks 
over there in the pond a few days 
ago. Wondered where they came 
from. Haven't seen them since. 
Maybe the hunters got them." 

We knew the hunters in our 
valley would not shoot tame 
ducks, and especially out of sea- 
son, but surely they were exposed 
to many other dangers. 

For several hours we continued 
our search, but we could not find 
even a white feather. They were 
gone. They were lost. 

That night I walked up to the 
little enclosure. The moon, like 
a bright tableau, was illuminat- 
ing the old tub and all the little 
corners, but it seemed strangely 
desolate and as remote as the dis- 
tant hills. The breeze seemed to 
be like the breath of another 
world. The leaves on the big 
trees were shivering. My wish, I 
thought, had been granted — my 
wish that the little ducks would 
swim so far away they could 
never find their way back. As I 
turned to go, I felt a kind of re- 

gret — a kind of loneliness. 

One evening, a few days later, 
we were out in the yard. We 
heard a great commotion. There 
was the wild whirring and flap- 
ping of wings, and we could hear 
that old familiar call. It wasn't a 
frightened call, and plainly it 
wasn't a swan song, but it was a 
happy homecoming song. We 
looked over to see the ducks, like 
snow white streaks, half running, 
half flying across the pasture lot. 
They ran straight for the little 
enclosure and passed single file 
through the open gate as fast as 
their little short legs and big flat 
feet could carry them. They were 
too contented to answer when we 
called to them. They had come 

Soon the leaves were tinged 
with autumn dye. The little pond 
would soon be lost in depths of 
snow. The comer shed was not 
built to hold back the heavy 
storms, so one day, they flapped 
out to winter on the farm where 
they could have a wider range 
and where they would be safe. 


The April 1966 issue of The Relief Society Magazine will be the 
special short story number, featuring four outstanding short stories. 
Watch for these stories in April: 

"Look Mom: One Hundred Dollars" by Helen H. Trutton 
"Thomena's Break Through" by Dorothy Clapp Robinson 
"Birthday Present for Amy" by Mary Ek Knowles 
"That Certain Sparkle" by Frances Carter Yost 




Ethel Jacobson 

" \-^«' 


This is the year 
The yuccas bloomed^ — 
Each sturdy shaft 
Stood proudly plumed! 

Winter's chill 

Forgotten rains 


Stirred long-parched plains, 

Transfigured now, 

Through desert spells, 

By myriads 

Of clustered bells. 

This year, a promise 
Long entombed 
Knew swift release. 
The yuccas bloomed! 


The Sustaining Power of Relief Society 

■ A husband advised a man whose family had just moved into the 
ward, "If you want to have your family integrated, have your wife join 
Relief Society." 

The advice was gratefully followed and soon the family members 
had friends in their peer groups. The mother became a visiting teacher 
and made friends not only with the sisters who attended Relief Society 
but also a few who were visited who did not attend Relief Society. The 
family became a happy integrated part of the ward. 

The sustaining power of Relief Society in the life of a Latter-day 
Saint woman was provided by a loving Heavenly Father. As an auxiliary 
of the Priesthood, its spirit transcends nationalities and cultures. 

In another ward a Relief Society member gathered into her home 
those sisters in the ward who had English as a second tongue. Though 
a few were still unable to understand English, Relief Society had been 
the means of bringing them together in loving bonds. 

A sister who had lived in a ward only a short time when her hus- 
band passed away, was only able to mingle with so many strange 
people through a Relief Society neighbor calling for her to attend 
Relief Society meetings, from which she gained strength to attend the 
sacrament meetings. 

Sometimes a husband who is not a member of the Church allows 
his wife to go to Relief Society, whereas he does not want her away from 
the home on Sunday. The sustaining power which may come to her is 
incalculable. From the study of the scriptures she receives strength to 
live more perfectly day by day. From the Teaching the Gospel in the 
Home lessons, she receives suggestions on improving family relation- 


Volume 53 

March 1966 

• Belle S. Spafford, President 

• Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 

• Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 

• Hulda P. Young, Secretary-Treasurer 

ships. She may improve in all phases of homemaking and become 
knowledgeable in the cultural arts. She receives confidence in her 
everyday living and the strength to interest her husband through the 
power of her sweet example. 

One such sister prevailed upon her husband to attend a sacrament 
meeting at which the Singing Mothers were performing. The warm 
friendliness of other families was the means through which Home 
Teachers were allowed to call. In time this resulted in the conversion of 
the husband. 

The influence of a good woman has no bounds. Nor does the in- 
fluence of Relief Society in helping to make a good woman better. 

Relying on the authority which a calling gives a woman gives her 
the means of accomplishing far greater things than she personally feels 
able to perform. Wisdom in training children is not the least value 
learned in Relief Society, and basic to growth is the recognition of the 
power of the Priesthood and the necessity to be obedient to the advice 
of a husband, exercised in righteousness. 

Relief Society teaches women to sustain the Priesthood, which is 
basic to progression. Relief Society schools the intellect of women. 
Relief Society trains the skills of women. Relief Society enlarges the 
souls of women and builds in them a sustaining power to forsake evil 
and cling to the good. 

Relief Society was given as a sustaining power to the womanhood 
of the Church. It is for every Latter-day Saint woman a means of im- 
proving herself and bestowing service on others. 

— M.C.S. 

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 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 

EIna P. Haymond 
Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhali 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Rosell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 
Irene W. Buehner 

Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Irene C. Lloyd 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva B. Ashton 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darl«ne C. Dedekind 

Cleone R. Eccfes 
Edythe K. Watson 
Ellen N. Barnes 
Kathryn S. Gilbert 
Verda F. Burton 
Myrtle R. Olson 
Alice C. Smith 
LucJIe P. Peterson 
Elaine B. Curtis 

Ramona W. Cannon 

Marguerite Higgins, famous American 
journalist, died January 3, 1966, at 
the age of forty-three, of a liver com- 
plaint which it is believed, she con- 
tracted in the line of duty in Viet Nam. 
"Maggie" Higgins was especially noted 
as a war correspondent, and always 
placed the accuracy, humanity, and 
general high quality of her work above 
her personal welfare. One of her editors 
said of her, "She was one of the best 
newspapermen this country ever had." 
She was still turning in columns while 
she lay critically ill in the hospital. 

Michico, Crown Princess of Japan, gave 
birth to a second son in December. 
Third in line to the throne, the prince 
was named Fumihito, and given the 
title "Ayanomiya." In the Japanese 
language, Fumihito means "knowledge 

Mrs. Mabel Jones Gabbott, whose 
poems have appeared in the Relief 
Society Magazine, has been named 
poetry and fiction editor of the Im- 
provement Era. She is the author of 
the words to three Latter-day Saint 
hymns: "In Humility, Our Savior," 
"Lord, Accept Into Thy Kingdom," and 
"Rejoice, Ye Saints of Latter Days." 
She has served in the Northwestern 
States Mission. 

Princess Chumbhot of Thailand is Chair- 
man of Bangkok's new Asia Trust Bank, 
Ltd. Many other women of Thailand 
are leaders in various types of busi- 
ness, and it is estimated that women 
own about ninety per cent of Bangkok's 
real estate. Mrs. Somsri Charoenraja- 
park is manager and owner of a mam- 
moth combination of bowling alleys, 
restaurants, and parking garages. She 
owns a large interest in the more-than- 
a-million-dollar President Hotel. Mrs. 
Suni Telan owns and manages much 
of the stock of a holding company 
which controls several hotels, an ex- 
port-import firm, rice mills, teak and 
mining companies, an aluminum fabri- 
cating plant, and extensive real estate. 
Supapan Mejudhon helps her mother 
run a forty-nine boat ferry fleet on the 
Chao Phraya River. 

Marion Shell, personnel director of the 
Cuyahoga County, Ohio, public library 
system, is one of the many library of- 
ficials reporting an acute shortage in 
this profession. In her district, which 
circulates some five million books an- 
nually, she reports that it often takes 
two years to find trained personnel to 
staff the twenty-four libraries in Cuya- 
hoga County. It has been estimated 
that there are about 6,000 medical 
libraries in the country, but only 3,000 
trained librarians to staff them. 

Miss lanthe Harris of New York City is 
director of the American Nurses As- 
sociation educational program^. The aim 
is to help this large national group to 
perform functions in society which can- 
not be performed individually. 

Juanita Groves, a Ute Indian of Myton, 
Duchesne County, Utah, has initiated a 
series of health education programs for 
Indian women. The first program in- 
cluded instruction in personal hygiene 
and certain aspects of communicable 
disease prevention. 


You Can 
Help, Too 

Emil Henderson American Red Cross 

■ "Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help." 

How many times have we said and written these words to a friend or 
had a friend say them to us when tragedy and misfortune struck. They 
are words expressing the true meaning of the brotherhood of man. 

Unfortunately, since we cannot always be there or do not always 
know that people are in trouble and need our help, we must often rely 
on someone else to do the job for us. 

The American Red Cross is one organization that is uniquely well 
suited and perfectly willing to do the job and to say to people in every 
corner of the nation and the world: "Let me help." But, as President 
Johnson reminded us when he declared March as Red Cross Month, 
only we can keep the. Red Cross strong and on the job by our contribu- 
tions of money and volunteer service. 

If we cannot go to Louisiana to help the thousands left homeless by 
Hurricane Betsy, we can entrust our dollars to the Red Cross to be sent 
in our place. 

Few of us can go to Viet Nam to provide the essential personal 
services needed by our able-bodied and wounded military personnel, 
but Red Cross is there for us. 

Most of us can give a few hours every week as volunteers. The Red 
Cross offers us the opportunity to reach the people in our own com- 
munity who have a special need for the friendship and help of another 
human being. 

As the slogan, "You Can Help, Too — Join Up, Join In," indicates, the 
Red Cross offers us the opportunity to say to ifriend and stranger alike, 
"Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help." 


Lael W. Hill 

There is always a beyond. 
I will always try to find it. 

No thing can be forever bound- 
I must forever try to bind it. 


MARCH 1966 

Embroidery Adorns Her Quilts 

Mrs. Magdalene Schoenfeld has made more quilts than she can remember. Many 
of her beautifully stitched quilts have been adorned with embroidery — cross- 
stitch and lazy-daisy — floral and geometric designs. Relief Society organizations 
in several wards have been proud and grateful to display Mrs. Schoenfeld's 
artistic work. Now, at ninety-three, she still works on quilts, finishing them and 
carefully stitching the bindings. She tells the Relief Society sisters that they 
aren't keeping her busy enough. She has been a member for seventy-three years, 
and a visiting teacher for fifty-three years. Now a member of Poplar Grove Second 
Ward in Pioneer Stake (Salt Lake City, Utah), she rejoices in Relief Society and 
counts her many blessings. 

She keeps her home "neat as a pin" and cooks for her son. Her happy spirit 
reaches out to friends and neighbors in love and service. 


Sierra Blanca 
12,004 ft. 



Sacramento Mts yv 

ro Las Cruces 

The White Sands of IVew Mexico 

Claire Noall 

■ Southern New Mexico's White Sands National Monument is a maze 
of ever-shifting, ever-whispering dunes. Matthew and I arrived at the 
Visitor Center in late afternoon. We had driven down from Cloudcroft, 
high in the Sacramento Mountains, where we had seen brightly clothed 
skiers cutting glissandi in actual, pine-girt snow. Within an hour's time 
we lost a thousand feet in altitude but thereby gained a warmth of 
velvet air in arid drouth. We left roadside flowers nodding April's 
greeting to enter a fairyland of simulated snow. 

This texture holds no visible moisture; yet in the marginal dunes 
a scant vegetation lifts its stems forty feet through burying sands. The 
roots, lying incredibly deep, anchor the grains of gypsum. A few species 
survive, such as shrubby pennyroyal, four-wing saltbush, and dark 
green iodine plant. The low crowns challenge the ceaseless charge 
borne on the prevailing northeasterly winds. Root, stem, and leaf 
pedestal the restless particles until they adhere almost as if cemented 
together. The sands may arrive on a whisper or stampede on a gale; 
but, because they seldom purl beyond the bastion, the dark-blotched 
hills wall them in. 

From these highly patched border-dunes we commenced the Loop 
Drive, cleared as nature dictates, where, presently, no plant was seen. 
The white road glistened and reflected the blue of the sky. It curved in 
and out between winged hills, and , suddenly, I felt an irresistible desire 
to leave the car — which must not leave the road. I left the car and ran 
headlong toward the slopes, my spirit light. My husband Matthew fol- 


MARCH 1966 

lowed at a more leisurely pace. Up the dunes I raced, weaving a pattern 
of footprints in cupping palms which permit no permanence. The white 
sands covered my sandals as 1 stood. The sands crept away like waves 
of water, leaving me almost without a footing. Prints dissolved under my 
path. Prints made by running children remained, linked for a moment 
only, then they vanished, even as the laughter of these young, bare- 
footed visitors faded across the air. 

Children are particularly welcome at this Monument. Conservation 
here stands aside for recreation. Many people come — as many as 
300,000 in a single season. 

I climbed a high slope, and every rippling wave increased in bright- 
ness according to its opposing shadow. Evening was at work. The 
gleam assumed the luster of mother-of-pearl. A few parallel lines, 
scratched on the gypsum bed at the foot of the dune, shone like mica. 
As the day's bright azure faded, I reached the cream-colored crest and 
looked into the pots of blue at my feet. Long shadows of low-keyed 
indigo, subdued by the non-reflecting light, gradually descended the 
full length of the immense oval bowl. 

I stood on the crest with my husband, hand in hand in the solitude 
of sundown, in the aloneness of April, and for me the dunes began to 
write a poem, a poem of accent and meter, of curving line and ir- 
regular sequence — a poem of silence, too, except for the distant calls 
of the children. 

Seconds passed. Length of line, foot, and stanza changed. We 
strolled down the slope to the channel, when all at once an unexpected 
golden light tinted every windward exposure. The alpenglow had 
touched each sunward crest, slope, and ripple. They shone pale as the 
fire of white sandalwood; then the magical veils of coral and crimson 
commenced to lower their hems. 

We turned a bend. A wee white pocket mouse caught the shimmer. 
It scurried away, making no more lasting impression in these shifting 
waves than the small bleached, earless white lizard can cut. Only these 
two species of animal have adapted to the white environment. 

Once upon a time the valley stretched between its two ranges of 
mountains level as a table. To the east, the Sacramentos are capped by 
12,000 foot Sierra Blanca's snowbound peak. Westward, the San 
Andres range crests dark blue against a more remote horizon. The 
great sink provided no outlet for its drainage. In the distant mountains 
snow and rain still dissolve the gypsum. The run-off finds its way to 
reed-grown Lake Lucero'in the southeastern corner of the Monument. 
When the moisture dries, it leaves behind exquisitely translucent elon- 
gated crystals. The wind, with busy fingers, tools these jewels into 
miniature spheres. An area of more than 275 square miles has suc- 
cumbed to the display. The rare white grains move faster and pile 
deeper under the northeasterly winds than do the sands of any com- 
parable area in the world's barrens. 

If the wind blows the sands against your car, don't worry; they'll 
mar neither paint nor glass; they'll not scratch your face; and though 
they may pelt your legs your hose will not fall apart. The grains are 


jJ^iSiSifrSHMf ?'. ;:;" '->7' 


-■- -xi.- >«' 

somehow both soft and slightly heavy. They fly close to the floor, 
and still they shift and take shape. The dunes rise and elongate, drift 
and diminish, only to rise again. 

The Loop Drive is constantly cleared to keep it from being drifted 
over. The hard white road is marked by mileposts which one is asked 
to respect. In the soft shoulders, the wheels of a car bog down, and, 
if they spin, the driver calls for help. 

To dig a tiny groove in the gypsum bed is to see how close to the 
hard surface the water level lies. A runnel forms, whose waters, being 
highly mineralized, support a wide variety of microscopic life; but they 
will not support you; they are not potable. 

You may picnic in the Monument provided you bring your own 
supplies. None are available at the Visitor Center; nor is there a 
restaurant. In a widely cleared area, however, among the dunes, tables 
are shaded by metal-slatted sails which, curving against the wind and 
reflecting the blue of both sky and sand, suggest a flotilla of ancient 
Norse ships. 

Food was forgotten in the gleam of alpenglow. Night was closing in. 
The beam of starlight soon would be tracing these ghostly crests. I 
asked myself what moonlight could not do for them. Again I felt the 
pulse of the dunes expand and decrease, rise and diminish. Again I 
heard the poem of silence, the runic song which sang of itself in the 
White Sands National Monument. 

For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and 
gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of 
the singing of birds is come (Solomon 2:11, 12). ► 





Celia Luce 

&r I \ *f^^|^a/l^ 

■ When our daughter was about five, she and I worked out a present for her 
grandmother. She made several pictures, mostly of people, but some of animals, 
houses, and trees. I cut patterns from her pictures, and stenciled them onto a 
lunch cloth. Naturally I made myself one, too. Her grandmother and I have 
treasured them ever since. 

Later, I wrote to my nieces and had them send me some drawings t|ieir 
children had made. For Christmas I gave my sister-in-law a set of dish towels. 
Each dish towel had the drawing from one of her grandchildren painted on. Two 
of the children were almost too young to hold a crayon — this was the first 
drawing each had ever made. These were just scribbles in color, but they made 
interesting and precious designs on the dish towels. I never saw my sister-in-law 
more pleased over any gift. 

The stenciled cloth we made several years ago was a lot of work. The dish 
towels were easy. For the dish towels I used textile paints that come in tubes with 
a ball point on the end of the tube. They are especially good for reproducing the 
crayon drawings, too, for they make a mark like a crayon. I paid 50 cents a tube 
for the paints, but a tube contains enough paint for hundreds of uses. They are 
wonderful for decorating any household linens. 

In any textile painting, the first job is to wash the material to be painted. Most 
new cloth contains starchy filler. If that isn't washed out, part of the paint goes 
onto the starch, and the paint washes out with the starch, leaving a dull, lifeless 

I used two methods of transferring the design. For the older children's draw- 
ings I used a sheet of carbon paper and traced the design onto the dish towel. For 
the babies' scribbles this was too complicated. I pinned the drawing under the 
cloth, then used a piece of glass with a light under it. Then I could see the design 
and draw it right on without tracing with carbon. 

The paints work like writing with a ball point pen. Use a scrap of old cloth to get 
the paint flowing right — just as you start a balky ball point pen on a scrap of 
paper. Then just go over the design. Push down on the tubes, but do not 
squeeze them very hard. Squeezing may build up pressure inside the tube that 
makes the paint ooze out and fill the cap after you have put it away. 

Embroidery hoops may be used to hold the material taut, but put the cloth 
in upside down from the usual way. The cloth must be below the hoops rather 
than above the hoops, for you must have a hard surface under the cloth to work 
on. Always use newspaper under the cloth as a little of the paint will come 
through onto the table otherwise. 

When the painting is finished, dampen a press cloth with vinegar and place 
over the design, then press with the iron. This makes the design more permanent. 
Use a rag for a press cloth as a little of the color comes off in this first pressing. 

These designs stay for a long time. They fade a little with repeated washings, 
but not greatly. 






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Recipes from the Pittsburgh (Pennsylvania) Branch 

Submitted by Rachel H. Cowans, President Eastern Atlantic States Mission Relief Society 

■ The making and sale of candy Easter eggs has been a money-making pro- 
ject for severai years in the P4ttsburgh Branch. The sisters have found enjoyment 
and dear companionship in working together "cutting cherries, pineapples, and 
nuts, making the candy eggs, dipping and boxing them." Last year the members 
of this branch made 1400 pounds of candy eggs and 2400 animals ("cellophane 
wrapped, nestled in Easter straw, in colorful boxes"). They contributed $1500 to 
the building fund and $106 for other needs. 

4 c. sugar 

1 c. syrup 

2 c. water 

2 large egg whites or substitute 1/3 
c. of albumin mixture, which is 6 
parts water to 1 albumin 

Cook to hard ball stage, 260°. Pour slowly over stiffly beaten egg whites. 
Beat until firm enough for molding. It will firm up more after it cools. Put in 
fruit and nuts, or coconut, or whatever filling you desire; weigh out eggs in 
amounts to suit sizes desired; then mold. 

Have tray buttered, buttered paper on scales, and butter your hands slightly. 

One batch of divinity with coconut makes approximately 4 lbs. of candy. 

One batch of divinity with fruit and nuts makes approximately 5 to 7 lbs. 


For coconut, one c. coconut 

For fruit and nuts: IV2 c. each of candied cherries, candied pineapple, and 

For nuts: IV2 c. 
Cutting Nuts and Fruit 

Cut cherries in half 

Cut pineapple in small chunks, the size of a cherry. 

Chop a few nuts at a time in rather small pieces, then push them aside, and 
chop more. Do not keep chopping nuts over already chopped nuts. You get too 
many crumbs. 

Have all this done before starting to make the eggs. 
Chocolate Dipping 

(Work on a cool day, if possible. Avoid humidity. Do not work in a steam- 
filled room. Work in a cool room. Avoid drafts.) 

Chocolate should be cut in rather small pieces, not grated. Chocolate can 
be melted in an electric roaster or an oven. If melted in the oven set the heat at 
150° or less. Stir often, but do not beat. 

As soon as the chocolate is melted, put it in a smaller bowl and place the 
bowl in cold water, stirring until it is cool. Stir well to blend the oils. 

When cool, place the bowl in a pan of water about 83° (lukewarm). This will 



keep the chocolate from hardening too fast. 
Work fast before chocolate hardens. 
Stir with circular motion, using wooden spoons. 
Coat bottoms first. When set, coat the rest of the egg. 
Avoid getting any water in the chocolate. 
Avoid having eggs too cold when dipping. 
Be sure all of egg is covered. 

When chocolate egg is cool handle from underneath the egg. 
Fingers mark the chocolate. 

Decorating Eggs 

Have flowers for decorating made up ahead of time. 
Have a different color for each kind of egg, for example 

coconut: white flower nut: yellow flower 

fruit and nut: pink flower maple: pale blue flower 

Make up green leaves ahead of the flowers and separate them. 
Recipe for icing to make flowers 

1 pkg. (1 lb.) powdered sugar V^ tsp. cream of tartar 

3 egg whites coloring 

Beat with electric beater, until the mixture looks like Crisco. 

Keep wet cloth over icing to keep it workable. 

Do not make flowers too high, as the box top will crush them. 

Put flowers on wax paper or aluminum foil as you make them, so they will 

come off easily when needed to be placed on eggs. 

Wait until chocolate on the eggs is cooled to put on the flowers. 

To put flowers on eggs, dab a tiny bit of chocolate on bottom of the flower 

and place the flower on egg. Too much chocolate will spread out and show 

on the egg. 

Making Light and Dark Chocolate Easter Eggs Left to right: Florence Sim- 
mons, head of candy-making project; Erma Williamson; Helen Hatch, President 
Pittsburgh Branch Relief Society, and Secretary-Treasurer, Eastern Atlantic States 
Mission Relief Society; Frances Hoffman. 


Hal Rumel 

A Golden Harvest Of Knitting 

Display from the Work Meeting Exhibit at the Relief Society Annual General Conference 1965 

The colorful afghans, stoles, and sweaters featured in the above display were 
part of a varied and beautiful exhibit from East Mill Creek Sixth Ward, East Mill 
Creek Stake. The display featured articles which older sisters, as well as younger 
sisters, enjoy making. Most of the articles in the picture were made by Mary 
Brockbank North, ninety-three years old. She learned to knit after her seventy- 
fifth birthday and quickly became an expert. Last year she won five first prizes 
at the County Fair, and five firsts at the Utah State Fair, as well as two seconds 
and one third place. Her knitted afghans have received much praise for their 
lovely color, unusual design, and expert craftsmanship. Each afghan looks as if 
the decorative motifs had been made separately and then attached to the afghan, 
but they are an intrinsic part of the knitting, and stand out in exquisite detail. 


Elizabeth Simon 


Dorothy J. Roberts 

Edge me with evening — why should I 

Hope for gold forever poured from sky, 

Knowing how in darkness planets bloom. 

And spring is contoured from the dream's dim room, 

Temper me with midnight when light has gone. 
Darkness always being the harbinger of dawn. 
Seed me with summer in the dark and cold 
As has been the way since time was tolled. 

Faith being sinew and bridge between, 
Faith being substance, though unseen; 
Tenuous, essential, let its fibers grow, 
Flowers of tomorrow forming under snow. 


MARCH 1966 

Hal Rumel 

Blue and Yellow Springtime Table creative Arrangement by Florence C. Williams 

For a springtime luncheon or dinner party, or for light refreshments in the 
evening, a blue and gold springtime table is a delight that lifts the spirits into 
the season of sunlight and flowers. For entertainment in the home, or for a 
graduation party or a Relief Society closing social, the blue and gold theme speaks 
a floral welcome. 

The wooden-shoe containers in the picture are painted blue, and the looped 
greenery is "leather" fern. The flowers in the wooden shoes are bachelor's 
buttons (Centaurea cyanus) and daisies. The tall spikes in the decorated pitcher 
are snapdragons and delphinium. Similar arrangements could be made by using 
other types of greenery, such as myrtle (Vinca), ivy, or asparagus fern. Yellow 
asters, lilies, daffodils, or hyacinths could be used with blue phlox, campanula, 
columbine, or mertensia, or in combinations of various blue and yellow flowers 
having sufficient "body" in petals and stems to make effective arrangements. 
Floral clay, "frogs," or wire mesh can be used for holding the flowers in position. 
If some of the stems appear to be fragile, they can be supported by inserting a 
"thread" of fine wire. 

It will be a happy springtime with a floral welcome designed in blue and gold. 



Old lis Ancient 


\m k Today 

Counselor Louise W. Madsen 

■ Quilting is enjoying a tremen- 
dous popularity. Quilted fabrics 
adorn furniture of all styles, from 
Early American, French and Italian 
Provincials, and the Spanish and 
Mediterranean influences, to Con- 
temporary. Beds are attractively 
spread with quilted bedspreads. 
Quilted cornices for draperies are 
a feature of lovely rooms. Quilted 
cushions bring gay touches of 
color. Warm winter robes are often 
quilted. Practically every child who 
needs a warm coat has a quilted 
parka or the lining of his coat is 
quilted. Sports-minded adults find 
quilted sportswear attractive. Down 
puffs are still used, in fact, the 
uses of quilting are more numer- 
ous and varied today than ever 
before. (continued on page 209) 

Sego Lily Quilt 

Original design by IVIary C. Imlay, made under the direction of Grantsvilie Stake Relief Society 

Hal Rumel 





Transparencies by Hal Rumel 

An Appliqued Quilt in Raised Design Nellie H. Smith 

The quilt pictured above is made of white "crinkle crepe" and decorated with 
raised applique motifs of flowers, buds, and buttertlies. A white crepe quilt 
top can be centered with a colored piece of crepe about 3 1/2' x 4 1/3' and the 
appliqued design placed on the center color. The center part can be cut in large 
scallops, the edges carefully turned under with a blind stitch, and an edging of 
tatting or other type lace attached around the scallops. The design is planned 
and the appliqued motifs attached before the quilting is done. A quilting design 



of appropriate scrolls or flower shapes adds to the interest and beauty of the 

Various types of flowers, buds, or butterflies may be used. Cut the decorative 
patterns and carefully turn the edges under with a small running stitch. Each 
petal or wing or bud is then gathered with small stitches, and assembled and 
joined together. The flower centers may be made of a small circle of double 
crochet. The petals and wings may be edged with a narrow crocheted edge, 
double fluting in a different color, or another type edging. The flower stems are 
outline stitch. The tops of some of the buds are wheat stitch, with small dots at 
the top, and some of them may be edged with tatting. 

Sunbonnet Quilt original design by Luacine S. Clark 

Drawings and music in book by Luacine C. Fox; lyrics by Luacine S. Clark 


^S^ ^'niis-^ 


)U 9^ 



M Petals, Stars, And Butterflies — 
Quality Quilts By Ann Campbell Butler 

Ann Campbell Butler, Springville, Utah, has made more than a hundred quilts, 
artistic in design and beautifully stitched. She is a specialist at making baby 
quilts, such as the one in the upper right-hand corner of the picture. 

Royal Hawaiian Coat-of-Arms Quilt 

This lovely quilt in rich and radiant 'color was made by the Relief Society sisters 
of Honolulu, Hawaii, and was presented to Colonel Elmer G. Thomas by one of his 
reserve officer candidates. Colonel Thomas presented the quilt to the General 
Board of Relief Society for display in the Relief Society Building, In Salt Lake 
City, Utah. 

< Ella C. Winder With Her Colorful Quilts 

Hal Rumel 

Ella C. Winder, Idaho Falls Nineteenth Ward, has served as Relief Society quilting 
chairman for several years, and has instructed many women who have become 
expert qu liters. 


Hal Rumel 

New Zealand Historical Quilt 

Quilt Owned by Elva T. Cowley 

The blackbird and yellow flowers represent the birds and flowers of New Zealand. 
The central figure is the chief. The woman (upper right) is standing in front of her 
home. The woman in the lower right-hand corner is doing the poi dance, with a poi 
ball in her hand. The other woman has a woven basket full of food which she is 
lowering into a steam-filled pit. She wears around her neck the "Tiki," a charm 
which is supposed to produce fertility in women. The man (top of picture) is 
crouched ready to hunt. 


Quilting — Old As Ancient Yesterday — New As Today 

(continued from page 203) 

The origin of quilting is lost in the antiquities. Sometime, some- 
where, someone devised a method of keeping loved ones warm by 
padding their clothing and bedding. The padding had to be kept in 
place, so small, exact stitches were used. In its earlier uses the quilt 
was made thick and, sometimes, used as a mattress. The knights of 
old wore a stitched wadded lining under their suits of armor. When 
made stout and closely padded, it was also used as a substitute for 

The word quilt comes into English from the old French cuilte. This 
is derived from the Latin culcitra, a stuffed mattress or cushion, which 
became coutre pointe in French, and was corrupted to counterpoint in 
English, which was in turn changed to counterpane. Thus, "counter- 
pane," a coverlet for a bed, and "quilt" are, by origin, the same word. 

The art of quilting was not confined to one people, one country, or 
even one continent. Its use in oriental countries has been prevalent 
since ancient times. Museums displaying the artifacts of former days 
have classic examples of quilting from many different lands. 

What began as, perhaps, merely utilitarian became beautiful as well. 
Talented women with a creative flair produced articles of great beauty 
and worth. Quilts were and still are challenging to the most intricate 
aspects of needlework art. The matchless artistry of some quilts has 
lasting appeal. The types and kinds of quilting are many and varied. 

Patchwork quilting is distinctly American, pioneer in spirit, illustrat- 
ing the ingenuity of those who could bring beauty and comfort from 
the merest scraps of material. Thrift and whimsy are present in this 
form of the quiltmaker's art. Frequently, these quilts were almost a 
family history, with bits and pieces of clothing worn at some momentous 
event inculcated in the design, recalling and recapturing the memories. 
Many patterns, such as the "Wedding Ring" and the various "Star" 
patterns, are still used. 

The skill of applique shows to best advantage on quilted articles. 
The quilting enhances the beauty and makes the design stand out. 
As an artist uses color and form, so a quilter places her materials 
according to color, contrast, and design. Like a painting, the skillful 
artisan makes a picture of stitches and cloth. 

Some quilts are merely tied, but charming effects are brought Into 
being by clever new techniques. Baby quilts are particularly suited 
to this type of quilt-making since it is quick and easy and can be very 

There is romance and sentiment attached to many quilts, and a 
legacy of patterns and motifs has been left to the present-day quilter. 
Quilts were often created to commemorate special events; a wedding, 
a birthday, an historical occasion, or a romance. Designs and stitches, 
pen and ink or painted details, color, and often the signature of the 
maker, tell a fascinating story. Friendship quilts were popular in the 
middle years of the nineteenth century. Friends would each make a 
block and sign their names. These blocks were assembled and quilted 


MARCH 1966 

by the group. Usually the blocks were quite different in design, fabric, 
and workmanship, with each a sample of the maker's distinctive style. 
They came to be known as "album quilts." At this time quilts were 
often given as wedding presents. 

Relief Society has greatly aided in keeping the quilting art alive, in 
introducing new uses for quilting, and in creating new styles and 
using new fabrics. Few women in the world take the time to quilt, but 
groups of sisters in Relief Society share the joys of sisterhood and the 
pleasure of creating beauty as they work around a quilt. As is true of 
many things, handworked quilting is usually more beautiful than 

May this lovely art never be lost. May Relief Society continue to 
have a sentimental attachment for this creative skill and introduce its 
fascinating aspects to all who will learn. 


Caroll Orton 

Once upon a special day 

I met a quilter sweet and gay. 

She taught me things that I should know — 

The do's and don'ts of how to sew. 

A grandmother she was, with fingers nimble 

(And I hadn't learned to use a thimble.) 

She seemed most adept at stitchery 

And someday a quilter like her I hope to be. 

Biographical Sketch of Lael J. Littice 

Lael J. Littke, winner of the third prize in the Relief Society Short Story Contest, 
although a young woman, is already well known to readers of The Relief Society 
Magazine, having been represented by several short stories, one of which placed 
second in the contest last year. "Mink Creek, Idaho, is my home town, and will 
always be my beloved mountain home, although our old family farm is sold 
now, and my mother lives in Salt Lake City. I was graduated from Preston High 
School and Utah State University. My husband George C. Littke is an assistant 
professor of Government at California State College in Los Angeles, and we have 
a five-year-old daughter Lori who thinks kindergarten is great fun. 

"My main interests are my family, my Church work, including my appointment 
as stake Relief Society theology class leader, and as a visiting teacher. I spend 
a good deal of time writing, and besides a number of short stories this year, 
I wrote the ward MIA road show and some Relief Society skits. 

"Last summer, my husband, our daughter, and I enjoyed a business and 
pleasure automobile trip across the country. We visited old friends in New York 
City, where we lived for nine years, and also visited the World's Fair, a special 
thrill, since we moved away from New York just seven months before the fair 
opened. The trip increased our awe and love of this magnificent land in which 
we live, with its varied beauties and its wonderful, friendly people." 


The Portrait Clianges 

Dianne Whitelock 

■ Claire watched the car with 
tear-brimmed eyes as it backed 
slowly from the long driveway, 
straightened, and drove smoothly 
down the alder-lined street. 
Turning, she slipped inside the 
house and shut the door quietly 
behind her. 

The living room was dark ex- 
cept for the glow from the small 
light above the kitchen sink, al- 
ways left on when a loved one 
was away. One shaft of the pale 
light rested gently on the old 
family portrait on the west wall 
of the contemporary living room. 
Claire moved towards it and re- 
garded it thoughtfully. She had 
always thought it to be the per- 
fect picture, encompassing all 
that was needed to compose an 
ideal family. Tonight, however, 
she looked at it through new 
eyes, and though the canvas re- 
mained unchanged to the eye, it 
seemed to lack something. 

She noted it carefully. There 
was Andy — only a baby, then. 
Claire thought of him now, as she 
smiled and dried the tears that 
had slipped down her lovely 
cheeks — he was all boy, that 
was certain. As she looked at his 
picture it seemed incredible that 
within the year he would be 
eligible to become a deacon and 
hold the Priesthood. Time has 
flown, she admitted. 

Then there was Melanie — 
Melly, as they called her — 
standing there so tall in the frilly 
pink dress they had given her on 
her fifth birthday. My, what a 
lovely young lady she turned out 
to be, mused Claire, as she re- 
membered that lately Melly 
seemed to have had something on 
her mind that she wouldn't com- 
municate to anyone. Could it be 
that she has known all along, 
Claire questioned herself? Her 
heart swelled with joy even at 
the thought. 

Examining the portrait again 
with loving eyes, she saw her Jill 
standing there behind a younger 
version of Claire, with her hand 


MARCH 1966 

resting lightly on her mother's 
shoulder. There she was, newly 
baptized, then, with a smile on 
her face that glowed like the re- 
flection of the sun in a small 
mirror. Claire thought of her now, 
Jill, the adored, the admired. She 
was a treasure, but, lately, her 
grades had been slipping, and to 
Claire, who knew how much col- 
lege meant to Jill, that could only 
mean male trouble. Pensively, 
she regarded the young men that 
Jill had dated recently. All of 
them were returned missionaries, 
she recalled gratefully, but Jona- 
than Mayfield seemed to surpass 
all the others. 

She wondered how she could 
think so coherently about such 
things after what had just hap- 
pened, but she knew that it was 
vital, so vital. Everything had 
to be thought out with every con- 
sideration to everyone so that 
whatever would happen would be 
the right thing. But what if 
events did not turn out the right 
way? For a moment doubts 
clogged Claire's mind, but she 
rose above them as she looked at 
the portrait once more — into 
his face. Her John had been so 
young then. How withered he 
had looked, she recalled, when he 
had passed away only a few years 
after they had all posed so 
eagerly for the photographer. 

She had known that he hadn't 
much time to live, but it seemed 
it had come too soon, too soon. 
Regarding him, who had been 
absent so long from their midst, 
she spoke softly, saying, "You 
know what is in my heart tonight, 
and I'm certain that you under- 
stand, my darling, and are very 
happy for me. This is a good 
thing that has happened, and it 

must turn out right, it simply 
must!" She looked at his boyish 
face as if she expected him to 
nod his head. Realizing what she 
was doing, she quickly turned 
away and made her way to check 
on the children and collect her 

Turning on the hall light, she 
ascended the stairs and slipped 
noiselessly into Andy's room. It 
took a moment to accustom her- 
self to the darkness. She looked 
lovingly towards Andy's bed, 
and her heart contracted with 
fear. His bed was empty! Her 
body began to shake, but her 
voice remained calm as she called 
him quietly. But no answer came. J 
She rushed to the bed, hoping ^ 
that he had simply fallen out of 
bed; but he was not on the floor, 
as so often she had found him. 

Claire put her hand to her soft 
hair and prayed silently for help. 
Still praying, she hurried down 
the hall to Melly's room and 
found the door slightly ajar. 
Opening it quickly to avoid the 
creaking that usually awoke the 
light-sleeping Melly, she blinked 
her eyes to season them to the 
cool darkness. She glanced at 
Melly's bed and saw a solitary 
figure sprawled out on the ivory 
chenille bedspread — but it was 
not Melly. As she moved closer, 
she saw that it was Andy with his 
Little League cap slightly on his 
head. Adjacent to the bed was 
Melly, curled up in the same 
cushioned chair that Claire had 
used as a child. She slipped to 
their side and smiled in grateful 
relief. Melly looked like an angel 
personified with her long auburn 
locks that flowed around her face 
and halfway down to the floor. 
"Asleep," sighed Claire. "Thank 
heavens they're all right." 



She turned to go back to pre- 
pare the bed in Andy's room 
when she heard a faint whisper. 
Wheehng around, she questioned, 
''Who is it?" 

"It's me, Mom." 

"I thought you were asleep, 

"Not really. I was waiting for 
you to come home." She yawned. 

"Why, dear?" 

"Oh, just because I spent till 
midnight convincing Andy that 
he wanted Professor Seth for a 
father, and I wanted to know 
what your answer was so I'll 
know if what I went through was 
in vain or not." She yawned 
again, but she also had a pixie 
grin on her face. 

So she really did know, thought 
Claire. But it still took a moment 
for the intense meaning of 
Melly's words to come clear in 
her mind. When she finally 
realized what had just been said, 
she stood there motionless, not 
having the words to express her 

"Mother, say something. Sure- 
ly he asked you tonight? He 
promised me he would!" By this 
time, Melly was sitting up with 
an anxious look on her shadowed 

"Oh, darling," smiled Claire, 
as she moved to her and gave her 
a short hug and kiss, "of course 
he did; but I didn't know you 
knew! I had to tell him that I 
would have to think over his kind 
offer, because it wouldn't be for 
just myself that I would be mak- 
ing the decision. It would have to 
be for all four of us." 

"But you love him, don't you, 

Claire looked out of the win- 
dow and waited a moment before 

answering her daughter — "Very 
much, dear." 

"Well, that's great, Mom!" She 
pulled her feet under her and 
clasped them with her hands. 
"That's three down and one to 

"Shh, not so loud, dear. Here, 
let's go into Andy's room for a 
moment and then you can tell me 
all that I am very anxious to 

She literally pulled the night- 
gowned girl with her down the 
hall. Melly, now wide awake, 
could hardly wait to deliver her 

"Oh, Mother, you remember 
that day a week ago when I told 
you that Professor Seth came, 
and you were at Little League 
with Andy?" 

Claire nodded automatically. 
"Well, when he found out that 
you weren't here, he looked so 
disappointed that I invited him 
in to talk to me while I fixed 
dinner. Boy, did we have a great 
talk! He told me about some of 
the funny people in his classes, 
and then he mentioned that he 
taught you in one of his classes 
once. I didn't know that you had 
been his student!" 

"Not many people do, dear. 
That was a long time ago, during 
my second year in college, I 

"But he remembered you. 
Mom. And was he ever glad to 
find that you were in his ward 
when he moved here to teach a 
year ago. Since we have so many 
wards here, he said that it was 
'most amazing' that he should 
come to ours. Being the romantic 
soul I am, I told him that it must 
have been fate! He laughed at 
that!" Her voice bubbled. 


MARCH 1966 

"I'll bet he did," smiled Claire, 
and pictured Seth Howard laugh- 

"Well, it was then and there 
that I decided that he would 
make somebody a very good 
husband, and why shouldn't it be 
you? Also, he wouldn't make 
such a bad father, and why not 
mine? After all, a girl needs a 
father, don't you think? So, we 
had a nice talk, I fed him, and 
finally we decided that he should 
ask you!" 

"Surely you didn't suggest it, 
Melly?" demanded Claire, only 
half-horrified at the idea, and 
feeling years of pressure being re- 

"Certainly not! Well, not en- 
tirely, anyway! So, when he came 
tonight, he gave me a wink be- 
fore you left. That was to be our 
signal — it was then that I knew 
it would be tonight. Then I got 
poor Andy in my room and let 
him talk himself into wanting a 
new father. I even got out my 
book of namies to show him that 
Seth meant the appointed. I told 
him it meant that he was ap- 
pointed to take care of us." She 
beamed. *'He could hardly argue 
with that. Of course, I looked it 
up ahead of time — JiU told me 

"Jill knows, then, Melly?" 
Claire's voice was anxious, and 
Melly sensed it. 

"Yes, Mom." 

"Dear, what did she say about 
it? It's very important that I 

"Yes ... I know. Well, Mom, 
she likes Professor Seth im- 
mensely, but she just doesn't 
think that at her age she could 
adjust to having an older man in 
the house." She said it all very 
fast then looked up at her mother 

with large questioning eyes. "Is 
everything all right, Mom?" 

"Of course, dear. Everything 
will turn out for the best. It al- 
ways does, you know." She said 
it with more optimism than she 
felt, however. Hugging her daugh- 
ter tightly, she renounced the 
fear that crept into her heart. I 
won't let this dishearten me, she 
thought. We've been alone too 

"Come on, honey, you sleep in 
Andy's clean bed, and I'll slip a 
cover. . . ." 

The sound of a car in the drive- 
way interrupted her words. 

"You stay here, Melly, and I'll 
go see who it is." Halting at the 
door, she turned and added, "Per- 
haps you can get some sleep, 
dear," although she knew that if 
Melly felt at all as she did, sleep 
was out of the question. 




the front room windows. She had 
recognized the sound of the small 
foreign automobile and was not 
surprised to see Jill walking arm 
in arm with Jonathan Mayfield, 
when she ventured a peek. Claire 
could hear bits of their animated 
conversation, and it was not hard 
to tell that they were happy. She 
smiled. Jonathan was so fine. 

Moving back from the door, 
she prepared herself to wait a 
moment before she would see Jill 
emerge. She was caught off guard, 
however, for the door immedi- 
ately opened and two figures 



came in from the pleasant night 

Claire braced herself and 
switched on a lamp. 

''Oh, Mom, you scared me," 
Jill exclaimed, holding tight to 
her companion's hand. 

"Sorry, dear," Claire smiled. 
'Tve just been waiting up for 


''Thanks, Mom. You're really a 
dear." Turning to Jonathan, she 
added, "Little things like that are 
sure signs of love. Let's always 
remember that." 

Claire noticed the tender 
glance between them, and the 
way he squeezed her hand. She 
held her breath. 

"Mom, there's something that 
I would love to tell you. . . ." 

"I . . . have something that 
I need to tell you, too." 

"Yes, Mom?" 

"Melly told you about Profes- 
sor Seth, didn't she?" 

"Of course, Mom, and it made 
me so very, very happy. And 
that is why it is so important that 
we tell you what we believe to be 
something of a miracle. Rather, 
Jon will tell you how it came 
about. Go ahead, dear." Her eyes 

Claire was startled at hearing 
Jill use a term of endearment. 
She looked earnestly at Jonathan 
standing there beside Jill, so tall 
and protecting. 

"Mrs. Harrison, I think Jill 
told you that I applied for that 
special fellowship back East. 
Well, today I received my letter 
of acceptance, so I'll be going 
back to Boston in August. But I 
began to think about not seeing 
Jill for, perhaps two years or so, 
and I decided, without much hesi- 
tation, that our relationship had 

become too special to sever." 

"I feel the same way. Mom," 
Jill added with feeling. 

"So I asked her tonight if she 
would be willing to go back there 
with me." 

"And I could hardly say 'no' 
could I, Mom, especially since I 
realized that I am so very much 
in love with him." 

Claire started to speak, but 
Jonathan spoke up vehemently, 
"We hope that we can marry a 
little while before we have to 
leave." He took Claire's hands. 
"In the temple, of course." 

Claire felt the tears coming, 
and she didn't want to display 
them, so she turned. 

Jill put her hand on her moth- 
er's shoulder. The portrait on the 
wall flashed into Claire's mind, 
and she recalled quickly how 
things had changed since Jill's 
slender hand had first been 
placed on her shoulder. Time had 
passed. This was a new Jill. A 
more radiant Jill, who had finally 
found her place in life. And this 
was a new Claire. A wiser, lovelier 
Claire, who knew now what she 
would do. 

She turned and said, "We'd 
better have a new family picture 
taken before you two leave. The 
other one's out of date, don't you 

They saw her tears but ignored 
them in their joy. 

Claire knew they were there, 
too, but in her great happiness, 
she ignored them, too, and was 
not ashamed. "I think I'll call 
Seth," she said. "I think he'd 
like to share our news." They 
nodded with quiet, radiant smiles 
as she took their hands for a 
moment. Then they watched her, 
as she walked quickly to the 


Visit of Queen 

Kapialani tn the 

Relief Society 

Laie, Oahu, Sandwich Islands 
July 6, 1878 

Jane Elizabeth Molen 

Copy of a letter published in the 
Woman's Exponent, August 15,1878 

■ Thinking a short sketch of a 
Royal visit to our isolated home 
might be of interest to some of 
the readers of the Exponent, I 
forward the following. Her Maj- 
esty Queen Kapiolani, arrived 
here just at the close of our 
morning services. Her design was 
to reach here in time for our 
meeting, but on account of the 
illness of one of the party she 
was detained. Her attendants 
consisted of her sister Pooloku, 
Col. Judd, and Miss Pitman, with 
a number of servants, all bearing 
some big title pertaining to the 
palace household, such as cup 
bearer, chambermaid, steward, 
etc. She was making a tour 
around the Island for pleasure, 
and in the interest of the Hui 
Hoola Lahui (Relief Society). We 
bade them welcome in an easy 
manner, leaving out, no doubt, 
many of the court titles usually 
applied to people holding such 
positions, which appeared to have 
the effect of making them feel 
at home. 

At one o'clock p.m., a messen- 
ger arrived to tell Her Majesty 
the people were assembled, ready 
to receive her and hear her in- 
structions. We all walked to the 
meetinghouse which was filled to 
overflowing, anxiously waiting 
her arrival; as she entered, the. 
people arose to their feet, the 

choir singing a song of welcome 
composed for the occasion. 

The house was nicely decorated 
with evergreens, with appropriate 
mottoes on the walls, and a beau- 
tiful crown composed of ferns 
just over Her Majesty's seat. 

The meeting being opened, she 
arose and read her speech, which 
was short but to the point, urg- 
ing the people to continue in the 
good work of administering to 
the afflicted and destitute; gave 
some good advice in regard to 
the management of the society, 
disbursements of means, etc. 

Col. Judd followed, spoke of 
the prosperity, union and con- 
tentment of the people here; 
thought much credit was due to 
the foreign elders; after which 
Elders Molen and Richards, oc- 
cupied a few minutes each, in 
support of the Queen's instruc- 
tions, eulogized her in her work 
of charity among the people. 

After returning to the house 
the natives were permitted to 
shake hands with Her Majesty 
and say ''aloha. " Many of the 
older ones who had not entirely 
forgotten their ancient habits of 
showing deference to their nobles, 
approached her on their knees, or 
with heads almost bowed to the 
ground; while the more enlight- 
ened ones only showed due re- 



This over, we all (the Queen's 
party and members of the Mis- 
sion) sat down to the tables and 
partook of a plain but hearty din- 
ner. The Queen is a nice looking 
woman, very affable and kind, 
but not loquacious. Her sister 
Pooloku is more of a lively turn, 
appears to enjoy a good joke 
and quite as ready to take as 
give one. Miss Pitman, who has 
traveled considerably in the 
United States, is well informed 
and quite a talker; she visited 
Salt Lake City not long ago, and 
is full of praise and admiration 
of that place and the people. 

By previous invitation, they 
were the guests of Brother Kaleo- 
hano, where they repaired in the 
evening. They felt so much at 
home their stay was prolonged 
two days. The natives flocked 
around them by the hundreds, 
and did all in their power to 

make them comfortable. We rode 
up in the mountains with them, 
gathered ferns, and lunched un- 
der the boughs of the evergreen 
trees, by the side of the beautiful 
cool stream of water that sinks 
long before it reaches the parched 
fields below. . , . The Relief 
Society held their third Annual 
Festival meeting today, which 
was really a credit to our native 
sisters; they were all dressed in 
white and made a grand appear- 
ance in the procession. They 
seemed to be filled with the spirit 
of the gospel, and from their own 
earnings they feasted some two 
hundred persons, which is no 
small matter these hard times; 
they have done much towards 
administering to the poor and 
needy of this place. . . . 

Your sister, 
J. E. Molen 


Elizabeth Cottam Walker 

The waning winter winds that bring the scent 

Of all forgotten springs in an icy crest, 

Awaken in me haunting moods that, blent 

With memories, stir me from winter rest. 

Now on the live hearth coals I place a log 

Of applewood I garnered for this day. 

Watch flame through gray smoke, billowing like fog. 

Sun-splashed and gleaming as it fades away. 

My heart grows eager in the apple smoke 
As in its pungency I seem to smell 
Remembered perfume of the petaled cloak 
Of blossoms — prelude to the apple-swell. 
Though waning winter winds with ice are sowed, 
My heart goes Apriling along the road. 


Winnifred C. Jardine 

■ List-making has always been 
an important activity of my life. 
For me it clarifies thinking and 
streamlines actions: which jobs 
to do first; how to organize 
errands for greatest efficiency; 
whom and what to include on my 
Christmas gift list; a plan for pre- 
paring a company dinner; how to 
spend my money. 

As a result of these many years 
of list-making, I've developed a 
priority list for my life. This has 
never before been put down on 
paper by me and yet has been re- 
ferred to so often that it has be- 
come crystal clear in my mind. I 
advert to it especially when mak- 
ing decisions — and even more 
important, in sticking with those 

This priority list has only four 
items, involving four specific 
values in the order of their im- 
portance to me: 

1. Spiritual 

2. Intellectual 

3. Cultural 

4. Material 

There can be no question about 
the number one priority, for we 
are told most emphatically in the 
Sermon on the Mount: "But seek 
ye first the kingdom of God, and 
his righteousness; and all these 
things shall be added unto you." 
This is the single greatest guide 

any of us can have for making 
choices in our lives. Being human, 
we all stray from this guideline 
too often, and each time must 
learn anew that it is truly the 
iron rod of life. 

The gaining of knowledge as 
the number two priority has to be 
near the top for a people who 
believe that the glory of God is 
intelligence and that a man can 
be saved no faster than he gains 
knowledge. ''Whatever principle 
of intelligence we attain unto in 
this life," we are told in Doctrine 
& Covenants 130:18-19, "it will 
rise with us in the resurrection. 
And if a person gains more knowl- 
edge and intelligence in this life 
through his diligence and obedi- 
ence than another, he will have so 
much the advantage in the world 
to come." 

However, the gaining of knowl- 
edge must go hand-in-hand with 
seeking first the kingdom of God, 
in order that our knowledge be 
converted to intelligence and 
wisdom. For some, the gaining of 
knowledge has taken top priority 
even over the matter of spiritual 
growth, and, for them, their en- 
lightenment becomes distorted. 
Jacob wrote of such a thing when 
he said (2 Nephi 9:28-29) : ". . .0 
the vainness, and the frailties, 
and the foolishness of men! When 
they are learned they think they 



are wise, and they hearken not 
unto the counsel of God, for they 
set it aside, supposing they know 
of themselves, wherefore, their 
wisdom is foolishness and it prof- 
iteth them not. And they shall 
perish. But to be learned is good 
if they hearken unto the counsels 
of God.'^ 

The wise increase of knowledge 
is more than a matter of intellect; 
it is also an attitude. When ac- 
companied by humility and a 
love of God, it becomes a great 
instrument for good upon the 
earth, and a joy, we are told, in 
the life hereafter. 

Third on my priority list are 
the cultural things of life — and 
the development and enjoyment 
of talents, good music, drama 
and dance, painting and drawing 
and sculpture, fine poetry and 
prose, delicate handwork and 
skilled craftsmanship. I think 
often about the parable of the 
talents and choose to interpret it 
literally as we understand the 
word talent — the natural endow- 
ments we each possess. It's a re- 
sponsibility and a privilege to 
seek out and enrich the talents 
we possess and to enjoy the fruits 
of the talents of others. 

Again, however, there are those 
who place this first on their 
priority lists, forgetting to tem- 
per it with the refinement and 
humility and virtue that come 
with spiritual growth. Taken out 
of its proper place, this value can 
become twisted and ill-propor- 
tioned and can even become a 
vehicle for evil. 

Last of all on my hst of priori- 
ties come the material things of 
life, a discipline difficult to stay 
with in this day of wealth and 
materialism. The above-men- 

tioned parable of the talents, but 
giving the word "talent" the 
Hebrew meaning of money value, 
could be used to support the seek- 
ing of material goods. And yet 
more strongly comes again the 
counsel delivered in the Sermon 
on the Mount: 

Lay not up for yourselves treasures 
upon earth, where moth and rust doth 
corrupt, and where thieves break 
through and steal: But lay up for 
yourselves treasures in heaven, where 
neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, 
and where thieves do not break 
through nor . steal. For where your 
treasure is, there will your heart be 

Everyone would like worldly 
wealth — new cars, bigger homes, 
beautiful clothes, and plentiful 
food. And there are good and fine 
people who have attained them. 
But these things must be fitted 
into their proper place, be sought 
oijly in their proper time, and be 
valued only in proper relation to 
other greater values. 

When we have reached the 
ends of our lives upon this earth 
and turn back to reckon with all 
we have done, the joy and delight 
of our accomplishments will lie, 
I feel, in direct proportion to this 
priority list. Our truly spiritual 
achievements will bring us the 
greatest joy; the knowledge we 
have gained in righteousness will 
come close on its heels; the rich- 
ness of living through the enjoy- 
ment of beautiful work and the 
development of our own talents 
will surely bring a warm glow of 
gratification. But at this point 
in our lives it's quite likely that 
any material progress we may 
have made will deliver little or no 
sense of satisfaction. The mere 
possession of material goods will 
have been its own reward. 


Chapter 3 

Synopsis: Jennie Starr, whose hus- 
band Rex is not a member of the 
Church, reahzes that, in spite of many 
material blessings enjoyed by the 
family, there is a need for spirituality 
and for religious training. Rex agrees 
to permit Jennie and the children to 
become active in the Church for a 
trial period of one year. 

Wheat for the Wise 

Margery S. Stewart 

■ In the days that passed, Jennie 
would think ruefully of the pic- 
tures she had conjured up that 
night. She saw herself and the 
children sitting demurely in Sun- 
day School or sacrament meeting 
and being good. Somehow, their 
quiet sitting was to project them 
into a problemless world. It was 
a nice dream but had no basis in 

On the following Monday eve- 
ning, the bishop and a counse- 
lor called to ask her to take over 
the Trekker class in Primary. 

Rex, who was courteous and 
curious, grinned at her over the 
bishop's head. In his grin was 
amusement and challenge. 

"I would be very happy to take 
the Trekker class," said Jennie, 
her chin high. 

"Trickers?" Rex teased her in 
the days that followed. "Tricker 
Treckers" was his favorite. 

Jennie wasn't to start her 
teaching until a week from 
Wednesday; but she took Lance, 
Sabra, and Lora over to enroll 
them. The first snow of the year 
had fallen. The ground showed 
bleakly through the thin layer of 
white. Muddy snowmen and 
weedy forts were everywhere 

Jennie made her way into the 
meetinghouse, deposited her chil- 
dren in the chapel among the var- 
ious teachers, and went blithely 
off to do her grocery shop- 
ping. She carried with her the 
idyllic picture of all the angelic 
faces of the children, uplifted, 
singing the ''Crusader's Hymn". 
It warmed her just to think about 
them. Ah, Dad, and you would be 



SO pleased with all of it, she 
thought, your grandchildren so 
neatly scrubbed and starched, 
singing with the rest of them. 

When she returned later to 
take them home, the chapel was 
empty. She went in search of the 
various classrooms where the 
children might be detained. 
Walking softly down a long, tiled 
corridor, she was halted by the 
sound of hysterical weeping. A 
grown woman, by the sound of 
it. "It's bad enough," the voice 
was crying, "to try to teach them 
above their noise . . . but to be 
snowballed after class!" 

Jennie stopped short, an omi- 
nous foreboding taking place of 
her happy anticipation. 

There was another voice, the 
Primary president's probably, in 
soft, dismayed concern. 

Jennie went slowly down the 
corridor. She ran head on into 
Sister Phillips, the president, who 
was coming slowly down an in- 
tersecting hallway. 

Jennie looked questioningly 
into the weary, gentle face. Sister 
Phillips bit her lip. 

"Was she . . .?" Jennie hes- 
itated, "was it the Trekker class 
who snowballed her?" 

"I'm afraid so," said Sister 
Phillips. She straightened the 
annful of flannel-board figures. 
"Sometimes small boys can't tell 
the difference between a teacher 
and one of themselves . . . some- 
times the snowball goes beyond 
its mark . . . and sometimes," 
she looked Jennie directly in the 
eye, "sometimes they do it on 

Jennie swallowed. "I just won-- 
dered," she said, angry at herself 
for not resigning here and now. 

Sister Phillips did not plead. 
"If it were easy to be a teacher. 

anyone could do it. You have 
well-behaved children, Sister 
Starr. It must have taken train- 

Uennie lowered her head. "It's 
easy to train someone you 
love. ..." She held back the 
words. She was already filled 
with doubt and antagonism. She 
had a quick temper. With one's 
own children, there was always 
the final parental prerogative of 
a swift punishment, a banishment 
to the bathroom . . . "and don't 
come out until • you've changed 
your disposition!" But with a 
stranger's children? How did one 

She said it aloud. "How do you 
enforce discipline?" 

"We love them and teach 
them," said Sister Phillips quiet- 
ly, "and then wait for the teach- 
ing to grow." She rearranged the 
flannel-board figures. 

She's waiting for me to say 
I've changed my mind, Jennie 
thought. She's expecting me to 
renege. It's my hair. I look frivo- 
lous. She took a deep breath. "I'll 
do my very best." 

"Thank you," said Sister Phil- 
lips and let out an explosive 
breath of relief. They laughed in 
mutual understanding. I love her, 
Jennie decided. I really do. 

The next Wednesday, Jennie 
came armed with a lesson she 
had practiced every day, visual 
aids in precise order, and a stern 
set to her chin. She sat with the 
Trekkers on the next to the last 
row. The Trekkers were ten. 
They were squirmy; they had 
come lately from* school; and the 
smell of peanut butter and gym- 
nasium and sneakers made Jen- 
nie dizzy. 

The red-haired boy, by whom 


MARCH 1966 

she sat, squirmed and twisted, 
dismayed at finding himself in 
such close proximity to authority. 
Jennie smiled at him in what she 
hoped was a friendly way, but 
he studied her lifted cheek 
muscles without enthusiasm. His 
companions eyed her covertly. 
Their down-turned thumbs and 
whispered groans did not re- 
assure her. 

During singing practice, she 
confiscated one hamster and a 
sling shot. She put the hamster 
in her purse, hoping it would 
have air enough, and the sling 
shot in her coat pocket. 

When they marched to their 
classes, she marched behind them. 

The boys were fighting over 
the chairs. Everyone wanted to 
sit on the back row. 

Jennie began with the flannel- 

"You didn't call the roll," 
said the red-haired boy sternly. 
''You're supposed to call our 
names first." 

Jennie, before she realized her 
mistake, dropped the flannel- 
board and picked up the roll 
book. After a moment she real- 
ized that the boys were answer- 
ing to any name they chose. 

The lesson could not be heard 
above the din. Jennie labored in 
the jungle of their laughter and 
their tumult. She tried to bring 
the pioneers through the thick 
grasses of their unconcern and 
felt as if she, alone, had brought 
the entire covered-wagon contin- 
gent across the plains. 

It ended at last. She retrieved 
the red-haired boy's hamster 
from her purse and the sling from 
her pocket. She said the closing 
prayer herself, and then the class 
leaped out from the room like 

grasshoppers from a burning 

Jennie stood alone in the 
empty classroom, impregnated 
now with the boy smell of peanut 
butter, sneaker, and gym. 

She picked up her things and 
went in search of Sister Phillips. 
Sister Phillips was sitting alone 
in the chapel. She was on the 
front row, and she looked up as 
Jennie approached her. 

Does she have to look that 
way? Jennie thought. Does she 
have to look brave and alone and 
sort of marching-along-army . . . 
waiting for the deserters to catch 

"How did it go?" Sister Phil- 
lips asked softly. 

"Just fine," Jennie found her- 
self saying brightly. "But I think 
next week I'll try a slightly dif- 
ferent approach." 

"You are free to experiment," 
said Sister Phillips and smiled. 
She put her hand in her pocket 
and pulled out a wriggling furry 
object. "I think it is Billy's other 
hamster. I thought he had but 
the one ... or I should most cer- 
tainly have examined him fur- 

"I didn't mind," said Jennie, 
"not the hamster." 

Dinner that night, was also an 
ordeal. Rex had come home in 
a joyful mood. "How about a 

She leaned on the counter. 
"Look ... if I can get through 
this next hour without folding, 
I'll be grateful." 

He whistled. "That bad, eh?" 

"It's just because I'm no 
teacher," she said defensively. 

He shrugged. "Throw it back 
to them. You don't have to do 

He eyed her questioningly. "I 



met Lorna on the street today. 
She said youVe had to give up 
the club to do this Primary bit." 
Sabra came floating in. "I 
have made a new dance," she 
said. "Watch me." She danced 
about the kitchen in leaps and 
sallies and exquisite turnings 
that brought Jennie's heart to 
her throat. 

'What is it?" Jennie asked. 

"It's my thought of the pioneer 
women," said Sabra. . . . "Now 
this part is Nauvoo . . . see I am 
low and sorrowing . . . and now I 
am burying my little brother . . . 
and now I am leaping on the 
plains because it is spring . . . 
and now I see the Valley and at 
first I am sorry, because it is so 
empty . . . but then I know what 
it will be soon ... all filled with 
roses ... so I plant . . . and all 
covered with fields of wheat . . . 
so I sow and I sing because I am 

Jennie turned back to the oven 
and the broiling steaks. I'm defi- 
nitely no teacher, she thought. 

not one of my boys went home 
thinking about pioneers. They 
probably don't remember a word 
I said. 

"Do you like your teacher?" 
she asked Sabra. 

"Oh, yes." Then Sabra came 
close and whispered in her light 
voice, "I'll fast for you next 
Wednesday. I truly will. We 
learned about fasting today. You 
go without food and water . . . 
and get what you ask for. ..." 

"It isn't so simple," Jennie 
cried in protest. 

"Maybe it is,"- said Sabra with 
a sideways glance. . . . "We don't 
know yet . . . but maybe it is." 

Sabra went out of the kitchen 
in her quiet, preoccupied way. 

"She's not like anyone I ever 
knew," Rex said, "sometimes she 
doesn't seem real." 

Jennie had the same feeling, 
as if Sabra knew things of which 
the rest of them were completely 

Nor was dinner a happy affair. 
They sat down to the steaks 
which were overdone, to the 
hastily prepared salad, and the 
frozen vegetables, which Rex 
frowned upon. 

He said, "The stock market 
has been behaving like a one- 
armed paper hanger with hives." 
He began to eat his steak. 

Lance looked at him curiously, 
"How come we don't bless the 
food in our house . . . like other 

There was a long silence. Jen- 
nie could feel Rex counting to 
ten. She watched his flush sub- 
side. She did not answer Lance, 
not knowing how. 

But Rex glared at his son. "If 
you're so eager to have us do it, 
go ahead." 


MARCH 1966 

Lance said stubbornly, "I will. 
They showed us how in Pri- 
mary." He made a brief thanks- 
giving for the food and dug into 
his potato. "We sure should have 
done that before." 

"Yes," said Lora emphatically, 
"we sure should have." 

Jennie touched Rex's hand. 
She felt him relax. 

He met her eye to eye. "One 
year," he said through his teeth, 
"one small year." 

But Jennie wondered if he 
would be able to take even that 
one year. It was as if she had 
unwittingly brought into the 
house a radioactive stone and 
everyone around was beginning 
to react furiously. The house 
seemed steaming with new ideas 
and demands. 

But when the children were in 
bed, she lit the fire in the fire- 
place in the family room. She 
made a cold steak sandwich for 
Rex and poured a glass of milk. 
He hadn't eaten much dinner. 
She took them in to him and 
Rex turned off the television and 
sat back to eat. 

Jennie said cautiously, "It 
isn't the end of the world to say 
a blessing on the food. . . . Lots 
of people do." 

"It's not that," Rex admitted. 
"I don't mind blessing the food. 
It just gets me that my son 
brings it up in that way." 

She sat back on the hassock 
and considered. "It made me feel 
strange, too," she said, "and hos- 
tile to the idea. I wonder if it 
makes us feel guilty?" 

Rex laughed and took another 

bite of his sandwich. "I rather 
think that's it. At least we're in 
the parade. All parents, in our 
day, are made to feel guilty about 
something or other. Writers stay 
up nights to think up new ways 
to keep us swimming in this 
gloomy soup." 

Jennie laughed, too, but with- 
out mirth. "If you have it bad, 
you ought to be a mother. To be 
a mother nowadays is to have a 
bounty on your head." 

Rex stretched. "Right. Some 
people use the word mother like 
doctors use the term virus." 

Jennie filched one of his potato 
chips. She pulled a cushion from 
the couch to the floor and leaned 
against his knee. "Do you believe 
in God?" 

"Et tu? Of course, I do." 
"Well then, we should thank 
him for our food. Right?" 

She cradled his palm against 
her cheek. "Well, then, we have 
been guilty." 

He said soberly, "Whatever 
church we join . . . we'll bless the 

She sat up sharply. "Rex? 
What do you mean?" 

He looked at her with stern, 
considering eyes. "My family is 
the most important thing in my 
life. I'm not going to let them be- 
come involved in anything on 
someone else's say-so. I'm going 
to investigate every religion on 
the face of the earth. When I find 
one that is right to me . . . that's, 

She had no words for argu- 
ment. They sat in silence watch- 
ing the dying fire. 

(To be continued) 







Melba S. Payne 

In my youth I well remember, 
When there was no need to roam, 
How I thought the world revolved 
Around my peaceful valley home. 

Close beside gigantic mountains, 
Solid grandeur pointing high; 
Bearing stately pines and aspens 
Etched against the eastern sky. 

"On the mountains," words familiar, 
Part of living in our town; 
Going up for coal or cattle, 
Going up, or coming down. 

Before the "Powered Buggies" found ys," 
Teams of horses, plodding slow, 
Delivered us in rumbling wagons 
Wherever we should choose to go. 

To the dairy in the glen, 
Through the toll gate by the creek. 
Stopping by the Beaver Dam 
To gaze upon a mountain peak. 

Then to find our white-topped sheep camp 
Nestled in the shade of trees. 
Sour-dough bread and fresh, fried mutton — 
A cheerful herder cooked us these. 

These are memories of my mountains 
Close beside my valley home. 
And I still go on the mountains 
When I feel a need to roam. 


Helen A. Nielsen 

Today is here. It is mine to enjoy. This is my most recent gift from a loving 
Father, and I shall cherish it. Today there may be rain or sunshine; there 
may be clouds or snow and wind, but, in this day, there are twenty-four hours 
for me to beautify or tarnish as I see fit. 

Perhaps I have mortgaged much of this day for washing, ironing, cleaning, and 
performing tasks. Although my hands are busy, my thoughts need not stay 
in a pan of soaj>suds. I have twenty-four hours in which to think beautiful 
and constructive thoughts, or I can grovel in self-pity or nourish stray bits 
of resentment left over from some unhappy moment. 

Dear God, may I spend this day as I should. May I have a song in my 
heart, and may I know the exhilaration of learning something new. May I 
go the extra mile to cheer and to serve. 

May I know the joy of some challenge met and conquered. May I make 
this a star-studded day embellished with the good and the beautiful. May the 
tomorrows be happier and more meaningful because of the things I put into 
these hours. May I account proudly to my Maker for each second of this 
day. And may I acknowledge thee, O God, as the Creator of all that is good. 




Relief Society Activities 

Timpanogos Stake (Utah), Pleasant Grove Seventh Ward 
"Near and Far" Bazaar 

November 5, 1965 

Left to right: Leatha Carson, stake theology class leader; Margaret Jacobs, 
ward theology class leader; Mavis Hamilton, Second Counselor, Pleasant 
Grove Seventh Ward Relief Society. 

Marvel A. Smith, President, Timpanogos Stake Relief Society, reports: "The 
theme of 'Near and Far' was developed in the bazaar, with practically all of 
the ward members participating in the fun. Booths were decorated, and the 
sisters were costumed to represent the following countries: Ireland (for sale of 
linens and gifts) ; France (beauty needs and flower arrangements) ; Germany 
(the candy shop); Holland (the bakery, with homemade cakes, pies, bread, and 
cookies); Japan (the fish pond, which was a favorite with the children); Mexico 
(the tables were decorated to represent this country, and tamales, meat pies, 
chili, hot dogs, hamburgers, and steamed puddings were sold). 

"Girls in different native costumes entertained with dances on the stage every 
fifteen minutes. A nursery was maintained and cartoons were shown." 

Officers of the Pleasant Grove Seventh Ward Relief Society are: LaPreal 
Lundgren, President; Dora Hales, First Counselor; Mavis Hamilton, Second 
Counselor; and Janet Parry, Secretary-Treasurer. 

Bountiful South Stake (Utah) Singing Mothers Present Concert 
"Our Society In Song" 

September 24, 1965 

Eulala H. Butters, President, Bountiful South Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"A beautiful evening of song was presented, with the theme '. . . and the night 
will be filled with the sound of music, and your cares will float away.' Barbara 
Peterson was the director, with Ruth Christensen and Carolyn Talbot as 
accompanists. The script for the concert was written by Eleanor Hoaglund, 
with Elaine McKay as narrator. The combined voices of sixty-five women of 
our ten-ward stake presented this lovely program as a special tribute to the 
visiting teachers, their husbands, and friends. It was the culmination of an 
afternoon of a 'Festival of Arts' in which each of the wards depicted in dis- 
play, arts and crafts, and all types of handiwork. Coy Tyson, stake work 
meeting leader, and Edith Sharp, Work Counselor, were in charge of this affair. 

"After the program everyone was invited into the cultural hall for re- 
freshments. We were delighted with the success of this lovely day, and with 
the attendance of over 500 people." 


All material submitted for publication in this department should be sent 
through the stake Relief Society presidents or mission Relief Society pres- 
idents or supervisors, and should be addressed to the Editorial Department, 
Relief Society Magazine, 76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. See 
regulations governing the submittal of Notes From the Field in the November 
1964 issue of the Magazine, page 847. 

sj , jj 



MARCH 1966 

North Idaho Falls Stake (Idaho) Relief Society Display Featured 

at Opening Social 

September 2, 1965 

May Wilding, President, North Idaho Falls Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"A presentation 'The Quest' was written and produced by social science class 
leader Kathryn K. Price, chorister Esther C. Mathews, and Magazine repre- 
sentative Nellie C. Bate. The cast included: Gayle W. Farr, Rosaline Gold, 
Eliza Teeples, and LaDean R. Marshall. The dramatization related the experi- 
ences of a Relief Society president and an inactive sister. Sister Gold, who 
had portrayed the inactive sister, later bore her own testimony as to how she 
had joined the Church through activity in Relief Society. Beautiful organ 
music was played throughout the presentation by organist Sylvia H. Thompson. 
Sister Thompson and Marjorie Wood were in charge of the display, which 
featured a mannequin holding gold ribbons which extended to each of the 
seven small tables. 

" 'Self-fulfillment Through Relief Society,' which was the theme of our open- 
ing social, will continue to be stressed by short talks and testimonies at leader- 
ship meetings throughout the year, as we work toward our goal: to bring the 
blessings of Relief Society into the lives of all the sisters in our stake." 

Lost River Stake (Idaho) Singing Mothers Present 
Music for Patriotic Concert and Flower Show 

August 17, 1965 

Front row, at right, in black dress: chorister Loretta Jensen; at Sister 
Jensen's right: Marilyn King, organist. 

Second row, left to right: Mary B. Davies, President; Leona Anderson, First 
Counselor; Mary W. Kotter, Second Counselor. 

Sister Davies reports that the Singing Mothers of Lost River Stake also s£Uig 
at two sessions of stake conference in May 1965. 

Ricks College Stake (Idaho) Relief Society Officers at 
"Show and Share" Christmas Fair, 1965 

Front row, seated, left to right: Deanne Moore, organist; Jessie P. Morrell, 
First Counselor; Lisle L. Andrus, President; Leta Skoy, Second Counselor; Elsie 
R. Lewis, Secretary. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Lasca Stucki, social science class leader; 
Eunice Williams, Magazine representative; Ruth Biddulph, literature class 
leader; Pamela Lehto, chorister; Lorna Tibbits, work meeting leader; Dorothy 
Mclntyre; Evelyn Graham, theology class leader; Phyllis Wood, visiting teacher 
message leader. 

Sister Andrus reports that the officers and members of the newly organized 
Ricks College Stake are enthusiastic about Relief Society work. Their "Show 
and Share" Christmas Fair was a well-planned and successful event. The 
traditional Christmas colors red and green were carried out in the decorations. 
The "Christmas Rose" tree was covered with roses and red lights. Displays 
were presented by each of the wards, including toys, cookery, aprons, table, 
settings, gift wrapping, inexpensive gifts, and stories for Christmas. Posters 
made by the stake board portrayed the work done in each department of Relief 
Society. A program was presented twice during the afternoon, consisting of 
Christmas music by the Singing Sisters, a trio, and a reading. The refreshment 
tables were decorated with glass figurines, and a bowl of cranberry punch was 
placed at each end of the tables. Eight individual tables, serving four each, were 
covered with green net over a green cloth, and centered with a candle circled 
by roses. Each guest was presented with a booklet containing the program, 
recipes, and directions for making the articles displayed. 





r^n fs 


MARCH 1966 

Argentine Mission Relief Society Seminar 

Caseros, Argentina, October 23, 1965 

Left to right: Maria Abera, Education Counselor, Argentine Mission Relief 
Society; Nalida Turner, Secretary-Treasurer; Mafalda Guinaldo, Work 
Counselor; Herta Mellor, President, Argentine Mission Relief Society; Nadia 
Mirosnikov, Secretary-Treasurer, Central District; Nedra H. Strong, Super- 
visor, Argentine Mission Relief Society; Elena Mancini, President, LaPlata 
District; Angela Guiliani, President, Buenos Aires District; Estella Angelora, 
Education Counselor, Buenos Aires District; Maria Flores, Work Counselor, 
Buenos Aires District; Federico Wolgast, Councilman, LaPlata District; Car- 
men Cuneo, Secretary-Treasurer, Buenos Aires District. 

Sister Strong reports: "The seminar was held for the purpose of presenting 
the program for the summer work meetings. The seminar was prepared by the 
mission Relief Society board and the district boards. Present were representa- 
tives of the twenty-three branches involved. Numerous representatives of the 
Priesthood were present to supervise and support. 

"Many demonstrations were given. Dr. Augustin Minotti, Jr. gave a lecture 
and demonstration on first aid and common illnesses; Mafalda Guinaldo out- 
lined and demonstrated the latest methods of the art of dressmaking. Nancy 
Briscoe demonstrated the art of making paper flowers for bazaars, children's 
parties, Christmas, and other festive occasions. A demonstration was given on 
Japanese flower arrangement. Sister Martinez from Quilmes demonstrated 
the making of feather flowers. Sister Strong and Elder Kraig Dahl showed how 
to make rolls and marshmallows. All of the demonstrations were carefully 
recorded, and a printed manual was given to each sister present. 

"The same seminar was held the following weeks in Rosario and Mar del 
Plata, with the women of these areas participating. Each day the sisters here 
in Argentina are learning to love and appreciate the great organization of 
Relief Society more." 

Calgary Stake (Alberta, Canada) Bazaar 

November 6, 1965 

Left to right: Nedra Leavitt; Barbara Walker, luncheon chairman; Gwen 
Haycock, Second Counselor; Joy Lee Matheny, advertising chairman; Naida 
Walton, President, Calgary Stake Relief Society; Rita Holt, luncheon com- 
mittee member; Ruby Hornberger, First Counselor; Hallie Logan, convenor 
and pricing committee chairman; Bernice Nelson, director of Singing Mothers; 
Mary Piatt, head of cashiers; Louella Payne, decorating; Janet Merrill, sales 
personnel; Glenna Fowler, displays; Marion Levant, bake table. 

Sister Walton reports: "The stake center was a delightful setting for the 
bazaar, where eleven wards and two branches combined for their first stake 
bazaar. Decorations for this outstanding event featured a dropped ceiling in 
white, dotted with ice-blue snowflakes, with overhanging winter scenes of 
snow-crested Christmas trees, and snowmen and skaters on an artificial rink. 
A winter scene done in pastels by Marion Barker completely covered the 
largest wall of the cultural hall, to complete the breathtaking scene. 

"Over 3,000 bazaar articles were attractively displayed, and included such 
items as kitchen aprons, children's clothing, doll clothes, toys, pillows, sleep- 
wear, Christmas novelties, knitted articles, Christmas puddings and mincemeat, 
Chinese food, and homemade chocolates. The bake table was well supported 
and was a main feature of the bazaar. A fifty-voice Singing Mothers chorus 
rendered two special selections during the afternoon. A delicious luncheon 
was served. Over 1900 people attended the bazaar; approximately 1200 of 
these were nonmember friends. During the afternoon the full-time missionaries 
showed the film 'Man's Search for Happiness.' 

"The final proceeds from the bazaar were tabulated on the basis of the 
number of articles made by each ward. Each item was tagged, showing the name 
of the ward and the price of the article, then, as each article was sold, the 
cashier removed the tag. This information was used in the distribution of the 
money to the wards." 


Alaskan-Canadian Mission, Cariboo District Singing Mothers 
Present Music for District Conference 

Fort St. James, British Columbia, Canada 
October 17, 1965 

Patricia Conklin, the chorister, stands at far left in the front row; Julia 
Gwilliam, organist, and district Relief Society president, stands second row at 
far right. 

Leola C. Durrant, Supervisor, Alaskan-Canadian Mission, reports: "The 
conference was held in the new chapel at Fort St. James, British Columbia. 
The Singing Mothers represent Williams Lake, Quesnel, Prince George, Van- 
derhoof, and Fort St. James Branches, with members living as far apart as 
three hundred miles." 



Kathryn Kay 

What happens to the magic 
Of the "first times" 
After "the first" becomes simply "once more"? 
What happens when the thrill of all the first times 
Becomes only a "something-we-have-done-before"? 
Perhaps there's also magic in just placing 
Our steps in paths where they are used to go, 
An awe can come with the familiar tracing 
Of lips upon lips they have grown to know, 
Time lets a quiet smile replace light laughter. 
And as we go once more down ways we've known, 
We learn that all the times that follow after 
Acquire a certain magic all their own! 


Teaching Aids from BYU Education Weeks 1965 

by Ernest L. Olson 
Four Lectures: 
I. Stories Which Show the Importance of Attitude 
II. Stories and Poems on Good and Evil 

III. Stories, Poems, and an Essay on the Place 
of Suffering in Life 

IV. Stories, Poems, and an Essay on Suffering and 
on Facing Death 

PRICE $1.00 



Sections 88 through 92 

by Roy W. Doxey 

PRICE $1.50 
Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah 84601 

Please send me copies of UNDERSTANDING AND ENJOYING 


Please send me copies of DOCTRINE AND COVENANTS 

Sections 88 through 92 
For each publication ordered, include $ .10 for postage. 
Enclosed is a check or money order for $ 

Name .. 




Lesson Department 

Development Through 
Homemaking Education 

Hazel S. Cannon 
Simplify the Job 

For Second Meeting, June 1966 
In the Southern Hemisphere, for November 1966 

Objective: To show how principles of work simplification can save 
time and contribute to personal and family satisfactions. 

"Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, 
even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learn- 
ing, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God" (D&C 88:119). 


Emphasized in previous discus- 
sions on creative homemaking 
has been the importance of 
organization and scheduHng of 
housekeeping activities to fit the 
individual family. Attacking the 
specific job now becomes para- 


How efficient are you? Effi- 
ciency experts have determined 
that often a poor housekeeper 
works much longer and harder 
than a good housekeeper because 
she fails to organize the job and 
her time. Many homemakers are 
inefficient and are not aware of 
it. Perhaps they are inefficient 
in a portion of a task but not in 

the entire procedure, or, perhaps, 
they "sail through" some jobs 
beautifully and get "bogged 
down" with others. How about 
following the pattern of business 
and industry and doing a ' job 
analysis? You might discover that 
you can do the job better in 
much less time. Remember, to be 
more efficient also means that 
the job performance is consistent 
with your standards, your values, 
and goals. Do not underrate or 
overrate yourself. Be as objec- 
tive as possible in order to dis- 
cover the areas in which you can 
improve and those with which 
you should be satisfied. 

Directions: As you read each of the 
following statements, ask yourself 
honestly, "How does this apply to 
me?" The five ratings which you will 
use are: A-always; U-usually; O-oc- 


MARCH 1966 

casionally; S-seldom; N-never. Just 
before each number, write the letter 
that stands for the rating you can give 
yourself on that question. 

(Note to discussion leader: Copies 
of the Job Analysis Rating Chart 
could be given to each class member 
for individual checking, or paper 
could be passed out, the ratings listed 
on the chalkboard, and the leader 
could quickly read each question as 
the members rate themselves. A brief 
discussion could follow.) 



(Based on the principles — eliminate, 
combine, rearrange, simplify) 

— 1. Do you ask yourself if the job 

is necessary? Example: Care- 
ful hanging and folding of 
laundry will eliminate some 

— 2. Do you have a clear under- 

standing of the way the job is 
to be done? Example: It is 
necessary when trying a new 
recipe to follow directions 
exactly. It may be wise to 
make notes of the correct way 
to do a job that only needs 
doing once or twice a year; 
such as, seasonal care of 
clothing; protecting woolens 
and putting cottons away clean. 
This question is pertinent in 
instructing the family. 

— 3. Do you determine if each step 

is necessary? Example: It may 
be more satisfactory to drain 
dishes, rather than to wipe 

— 4. Do you combine one step with 

another part of the job, when 
feasible? Example: Lightly 
soiled linoleum may be cleaned 
and waxed in the same opera- 
tion with one of the new liquid 
floor preparations. 

— 5. Do you rearrange the order of 

the steps for greater efficiency? 
Example: "One trip bed-mak- 
ing" — making the bed in one 
"U" pattern around the bed. 

— 6. Are you motion-minded and do 

you form little routines for 
jobs in which repetition is in- 
volved? Example: Use a sys- 

tem in folding a pile of towels 
or in peeling a pan of potatoes. 

— 7. Do you try to use both hands 

effectively? Example: A right- 
handed person does dishes 
most efficiently by working 
from right to left. She holds 
the dish in her left hand, wash- 
ing it with the right, and 
places the dish in the dish 
drain to the left without 
changing hands. 
- — .8. Do you try to work with 
fewer smooth motions, rather 
than many fast, jerky motions? 
Example: In ironing a shirt, 
greater efficiency is achieved 
by the fewest possible strokes, 
making the pressure of the 
iron even. Fast, jerky motions 
put wrinkles in the shirt. 

— 9. Do you try to work at a pace 

which is best for you and the 
job? Example: Too fast dust- 
ing may leave as much dust on 
the table as on the cloth. 

— 10. Do you train yourself to do all 
there is to do at one place 
at one time, or all of one step 
before proceeding to the next 
step? Example: While you 
are at the refrigerator, remove 
all items needed. 

— 11. Do you dovetail your work? 
Example: While waiting for 
the potatoes to cook, clean up 
your sink. 

12. Do you consolidate your work 

when possible? Example: 
While you are making a 
casserole for dinner, make an 
extra one for the freezer; mar- 
ket less often but buy for a 
longer period of time. 

— 13. Do you attack a big or diffi- 
cult job when you are at the 
peak of your energy, rather 
than when you are weary? 
Example: Put in a "tricky" 
hem on a dress early in the 
day when you are fresh, rather 
than after dinner. 

— 14. Do you conserve your energy 
by sitting to do some tasks? 
Example: Sit at an adjustable 
ironing board while ironing; 
use a lap board for some types 
of food preparation. 

If you rated "always" and "usually" 
most of the time, you are doing well. 



If you rate chiefly in the "seldom" 
and "never" categories, a change is in 


Whenever a factory engineer 
attempts to help the output in 
less time, he first observes care- 
fully what is being done, makes 
notes and asks questions. 

Do not be afraid to use the 
questioning method. Your an- 
swers should be based upon 
family satisfactions, of course. 


Years ago, Ellen H. Richards, 
one of the early pioneers of home- 
making education in the public 
schools, admonished women to 
control the material things about 
them, leaving time and energy to 
make life for their families gra- 
cious, worthwhile, and enjoyable. 
Time is a precious commodity. 
Let us conserve it. 


Name some household tasks 
which you wish to do a certain 

way, even though they consume 
more time. State your reasons. 
(A case in point might be careful 
and conventional setting of the 
table because you feel the aes- 
thetic satisfactions outweigh the 
extra work.) 


Check the following items and 
determine if they would add to your 
kitchen efficiency: 

1. Locate equipment at point of 
first use rather than all like equip- 
ment in one place. A kettle requiring 
water would be located near the sink, 
its lid near the range. 

2. Place supplies and small equip- 
ment within sight and reach. You may 
need to use step shelves, half shelves, 
racks on cupboard doors, and vertical 

3. Locate items according to fre- 
quency of use. 

4. Duplicate some items used in 
more than one location such as mea- 
suring cups at both sink and mixing 

Certain jobs seem to steal away 
your twenty -four hours a day. Select 
your worst offender (job), apply the 
questioning method, and in the suc- 
ceeding weeks try to conquer the 


Christie Lund Coles^ 

I recall her speaking of Tivoli, 
And the cobblestone streets where her youth ran; 
The forests with their spires and ferny leaves; 
The ocean's roaring and its foam-white span; 

The low, thatched roofs on cottages; 
Bakeries with their warm and spicy scent. 
I may not see this land of water, trees, 
But through her I keep it rich and innocent. 


Cardston and Idaho Falls 

June 17, 1966 

Time for those who wish to 
go to temples 

::■ ::■■ « >;: !f! * 

Hawaiian Lei Day Tour 

April 23 - May 8 

Northwest Tour 

June 25 -July 2 

Hill Cumorah Tours 

July 1966 

Summer Paradise 

Hawaiian Tour 

July 23 

Black Hills Passion Play Tour 

August 21 

New England— Canadian 

Fall Tour 

September 3 

James Travel Tours 

460 7th Avenue 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84103 

Phones: 363-5229 - 359-8051 


Pots and pans stay 

"white glove" 


if it's eiectric, it's bptteri 

Jhank you 

for your patronage and 

your fine friendship over the years 

We have 


Plastic Grapes and other 
Plastic Casting Supplies 
Feather Flowers 
Ribbon Flowers 
Satin Wrapped Fruit, etc. 



Aluminum Trays 
Copper Tooling 
Basketry, etc. 

Send 25c for catalog and also receive 
our newest book 

"Egg Carton Party Favors" 
Discounts to Groups 


240 East 2nd South 

Salt Lake City, Utah 841 1 1 



Vesta Nickerson Fairbairn 

How lovely and rare 
And cherished the more 
Because of the years 
We did not share, 
And now on the threshold 
Of womanhood, 
A daughter new 
Is mine to enfold. 

Joy unforeseen — 
To celebrate with her 
The first birthday 
At seventeen! 


Plan a Murdock Tour Now! 

The following personally-escorted, all-expense-paid tours all include the 
highest quality carriers and accommodations at surprisingly low cost: 

L.D.S. Temples Tour 

(Oakland, L.A., St. George, Monti) 

Hawaii Tour 

European Highlights 

Temples & Lake Louise 

(Cardston, Idaho, Logon) 

Scandinavian Vikings Tour 

Hiil Cumoroh Pageant Tour 

Hill Cumoroh Pageant Tour 

Hill Cumoroh Pageant Tour 
9 Yellowstone, Passion Ploy Mt. Rushmore 
10 Hawaii Tour 

1 1 days 

1 2 days 
21 days 
1 2 days (bus) 

Leaves April 1 8th 

Leaves May 14th 
Leaves June 9th 
Leaves July 1 1 th 

21 days Leaves July 12th 

15 days (bus and air) Leaves July 15th 

8 days (air) Leaves July 26th 

15 days (bus and air) Leaves July 29th 

8 days Leaves August 1 3th 

1 days Leaves September 1 0th 



Murdock Travel Inc., 14 So. Main, Salt lake City, Utah I 


PI«fl«P cpnd information on tour no. 


Name • 



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Address • 


City State • 




A sure way of keeping olive the valuable in- 
struction of each nrtonth's Relief Society Maga- 
zine is in a handsomely bound cover. The 
Mountain West's first and finest bindery and 
printing house is prepared fo bind your editions 
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Mail or bring the editions you wish bound to 
the Deseret News Press for the finest of service. 

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Yearly Index Included 
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Postage Rates from Salt Lake City, Utah 

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April 18, 1966 


April 21, 1966 

Ship one way 

April 27, 1966 

Flying both ways 


June 12, 1966 
Flying both ways 

Canadian and New England 
States Tour 


Pageant Tours 

Margaret land Tours 

110 East 2nd South 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84111 

382-8981 - 467-5763 - 485-2444 


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Volume 53 Number 4 


■ ■■■ *»-*«^ 




/APRIL 1%6 

Special' Short Story 






Alice Morrey Bailey 

I had come as she, the woman at the well, 

Seeking only slake for the day's need, 

Thirst on my tongue, my blood confused as hers 

Where Israel fought Assyria in her veins, 

But here I found, as she, the living fountain. 

Balm for my wounds, quench for my burnings. 

And my dark mirror in its quiet pool. 

And here, beside this river of compassion 

Have I poured out my woes and emptied grief 

And let my guilt uncoil and spread my greed 

Upon the sand for scrutiny, here spilled my yearnings. 

Let old fears dilute, confirmed belief. 

Now I am laved and full of joy and cool 

As a new spring bursting from the mountain. 

The Cover: View From Salem, Utah, Transparency by Lucien Bown 
Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

Frontispiece: "Christ and the Samaritan Woman," from a painting by Carl Bloch 
Print by Camera Clix 

Art Layout: Dick Scopes 

Illustrations: Mary Scopes 


It has been a very wonderful time read- 
ing our fine Magazine. Each time it 
comes, I just sit, and with joy in my 
heart, I read the inspired pages that 
bring knowledge, wisdom, and faith. It 
is like an open door to heaven, and a 
hope that peace will stay with me in 
my home. 

Clemencia P. Golithon 
Redondo Beach, California 

I am a Lutheran by faith, but during 
my short stay in Utah became very 
fond of Relief Society and enjoyed 
every minute of it — such wonderful 
women and with such a good outlook 
on life. I find The Relief Society Mag- 
azine brings me the same enjoyment 
and inspiring messages and I can't 
wait for the next issue. 

Mrs. Thelma M. Adams 
Fort. Walton Beach, Florida 

All of my indifference towards poetry 
has changed the last two years since 
I have been studying the literature 
lessons in The Relief Society Magazine. 
We as Relief Society women are blessed 
with many advantages to enrich our 
lives. I love all the poems published in 
the Magazine, and especially the prize- 
winning poems in the January issue. 
"Letter to Viet Nam" (by Eva Willes 
Wangsgaard) really touched my he^rt. 

Lillie Hendricks 
Big Spring, Texas 

In the past three years, starting from 
Scotland, I have traveled widely over 
the United States and Canada, and 
have had many a lonely moment, but 
was fortunate to have these moments 
warmed by reading the Magazine, and 
from the contents one gets strength 
to carry on. I hope people like me 
and my fellow wanderers continue to 
receive the friendliness of The Relief 
Society Magazine. 

Ann Petrie 
San Francisco, California 

I am nineteen years of age, single, and 
have been subscribing to the Magazine 
for nearly a year. From the fictional 
stories to the deepest doctrinal mes- 
sages, pours priceless and uplifting, 
and benefiting information. Being 
young, I am especially interested In 
the romantic side of life. The story 
"For Barbara, With Love" (First Prize 
Story, January 1966) deeply touched 
me, bringing tears to my eyes as I read 
it. Thank you. Sister Vesterfelt, for 
writing such a heartfelt message. Also, 
some years ago, was the serial "Eliza- 
beth's Children" (by Olive W. Burt, 
1958), which was also touching. I am 
very thankful that I have the privilege 
of receiving the Magazine. 

Jeanette Prince 
Leavitt, Alberta, Canada 

I enjoy the Magazine very much be- 
cause it is so outstanding. I surely did 
enjoy the story "A Swedish Conversion" 
(by Melva Taylor Cleave, in the April 
1965 issue of the Magazine). 

Fredrika Clinch 
Bell Gardens, California 

The stories and lessons in the Maga- 
zine have proved to be most helpful to 
me, and are indeed inspirational. The 
recipes have been enjoyed by family 
and friends. The lessons have helped 
in guiding and directing my life. The 
lessons coincide beautifully with the 
Home Evening program. Relief Society 
has come to mean som'ething special 
for me. My testimony has been 
strengthened since I have had the 
opportunity to join Relief Society and 
to work in it. I was the only member 
of my family in the Church in the Mid- 
west and the Magazine was a guide and 
a help in explaining the gospel. 

Miss Ada Ruth Doner 
Fremont, California 


The R^li^f S^Ci^ty Magazine 

Volume 53 April 1966 Number 4 

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

Special Features 

244 The Need for and the Value of a Testimony Roy W. Doxey 

256 The Technique and Art of the Pianist As Accompanist and Soloist Ellen N. Barnes 

271 Look to the Future — Fight Cancer Gregory Peck 


250 Thomena's Break Through Dorothy Clapp Robinson 
262 That Certain Sparkle Frances Carter Yost 

272 Birthday Present for Amy Mary Ek Knowles 

279 "Look Mom: One Hundred Dollars" Helen H. Trutton 
301 Wheat for the Wise Chapter 4 Margery S. Stewart 

General Features 

242 From Near and Far 

267 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

268 Editorial: "The Flowers Appear on the Earth" Vesta P. Crawford 
270 Notes to the the Field: Do You Contemplate a Change of Address? 
308 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities 

320 Birthday Congratulations 

The IHome - Inside and Out 

286 Recipes For a Luncheon Harriet B. Thome 

287 How to Sew Nylon Tricot Ethel Maturale 

288 Second Hope Chest Elizabeth Cottam Walker 

291 I Love April Genevieve Van Wagenen 

292 Make a Dicky Wilma B. Lichfield 

293 I Love Patches Joan N. Ahlman 

294 Paintings Make Every Day Beautiful 

295 Hill of Daffodils Sylvia Probst Young 

296 Inspiration Clara Home Park 

297 Home Academy — What Are You Going to Teach, Mother? Leora Larsen 
299 No Violins Lael J. Littke 

307 A Proper Perspective Through The Relief Society Magazine Arlene Bascom 
307 Full Circle Betty G. Spencer 

Lesson for June 

315 Work Meeting — Wise Buymanship Jenniev J. Poulson 


241 At the Well Alice Morrey Bailey 

My Butterfly, Vilate R. McAllister, 255; Lifted Hands, Delia Adams Leitner, 261; Suddenly 
It's Spring, Annie Atkin Tanner, 266; "He Giveth His Beloved Sleep," Christie Lund Coles, 
270; Bridal Spring, Pearle M. Olsen. 277; No Petal Lost, Blanche Kendall McKey. 278; 
Anna's Garden, Lucy W. Jones, 285; Prelude to Roses, Kathryn Kay, 290; Morning Glory 
Morning, Linda J. Houston, 298; Thank You, Visiting Teachers, Carolle Denton. 300; Alpine 
LiHes, Dorothy J. Roberts, 217; My Yellow Bird, Alda L. Brown, 318. 


Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints. 1966 by the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main 
Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone 364-2511; Subscription Price $2.00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c 
a copy, payable in advance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers can be sup- 
plied. 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 Oc- 
tober 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 manu- 

Roy W. Doxey 
Professor of Scriptures 

[Address Delivered at the Officers 
Meeting of the Relief Society 
Annual General Conference, 
September 29, 1965] 

■ I know that no person can 
come to this position and be 
successful without the prepara- 
tion of prayer and a sincere de- 
sire to perform this assignment in 
keeping with the high standards 
of the Rehef Society. With your 
faith and prayers my inade- 
quacies will be less noticeable. 

One time a student asked me if 
I could prove to him that there 
is a God. My answer was simple 
and straightforward. I said, 
"No." He then said, "Oh, then 
what you teach about the gospel 
is not true, because you can't 
prove there is a God." 

It is true, no man can prove 
the existence of God. What we do 
is to cite various evidences in 
nature, the orderliness of the uni- 
verse, the balance in nature, the 
resourcefulness of animal life, and 
man himself as a complex organ- 

ism. But these things, important 
as they are to those who are 
trying to know about a power 
greater than themselves, really do 
not prove the existence of God 
and, certainly, do not reveal the 
personality and attributes of 
God. What, then, was my answer 
to the doubting student? 

"Although I cannot prove 
God's existence to you, nor do I 
believe that any man can do so, 
the Lord nonetheless has given us 
assurance that we can know that 
he lives. This knowledge comes to 
the individual and not to the 
multitude. Yes, we can know that 
God the Father lives, and that 
Jesus Christ is his Only Begotten 
Son. This knowledge can come to 
every individual that lives, pro- 
vided he will accept the condi- 
tions upon which that knowledge 
is gained." 



God has not left his children 
without his fundamental knowl- 
edge which Jesus said was nec- 
essary in order to receive eternal 
life. (John 17:3.) 

We in the Church have come to 
know that revelation may be re- 
ceived by every person who is 
prepared for it. The Prophet 
Joseph Smith said: ''No man can 
receive the Holy Ghost without 
receiving revelations. The Holy 
Ghost is a revelator" (Teachings 
of the Prophet Joseph Smith, 
page 328). The apostle Paul said 
that ''no man can say [or know] 
that Jesus is the Lord, but by the 
Holy Ghost" (I Cor. 12:3). So 
evident was this fact made known 
to Peter, when he said to Christ 
"Thou art the Christ, the son of 
the living God," that Jesus said 
to him: "... flesh and blood 
hath not revealed it unto thee, 
but my Father which is in 
heaven" (Matt. 16:17). 

What preparation is necessary 
to receive revelation that God 
lives, that Joseph Smith is a 
prophet of God? I believe that 
Latter-day Saints have come to 
understand the basic elements 
which make it possible for one — 
young or old — to receive this 
knowledge. Briefly stated, they 
are: (1) a sincere desire to know; 
(2) belief or faith in Jesus Christ 
that he will answer prayer; (3) 
prayer itself; (4) diligent study 
to learn God's will; and (5) to 
live according to the principles of 
the gospel. 

It seems to me that the kind of 
faith that will bring results was 
mentioned by President Heber J. 
Grant about an experience in his 
early youth. 

I have often said and desire to re- 
peat here that when I was a young 

unmarried man, another young man, 
who had received a doctor's degree 
ridiculed me for believing in the Book 
of Mormon. He said he could point 
out two lies in that book. One was that 
the people had built their homes out 
of cement and they were very skillful 
in the use of cement. He said there 
had never been found and never 
would be found a house built of 
cement by the ancient inhabitants 
of this country, because the people of 
that early age knew nothing about 
cement. He said that should be 
enough to make one disbelieve the 
book. I said: "That does not affect my 
faith one particle. I read the Book 
of Mormon prayerfully and suppli- 
cated God for a testimony in my 
heart and soul to the divinity of it, 
and I have accepted it and believe it 
with all my heart." I also said to him, 
"If my children do not find cement 
houses, I expect that my grandchil- 
dren will." Now, since that time, 
houses made of cement and massive 
structures of the same material have 
been uncovered (Gospel Standards. 
Second Edition, page 28). 

What is a testimony? In the 
words of President Joseph F. 
Smith, we learn: 

A testimony of the truth is more 
than a mere assent of the mind, it is 
a conviction of the heart, a knowledge 
that fills the whole soul of its recipient 
(Roy W. Doxey, Latter-day Prophets 
and the Doctrine and Covenants II: 

There are several elements 
about a testimony which, it 
seems to me, should be known. 
The testimony is received by the 
Holy Ghost speaking to one's 
spirit. When the Spirit speaks to 
one's soul as a still small voice 
or by impressions to the mind, 
the power of that experience is 
such that it can be greater than 
if one had contact with heavenly 
messengers. One truth associated 
with this fact is that when the 
Holy Ghost has spoken to a 


APRIL 1966 

man's soul, it is possible, if that 
man turns away from that testi- 
mony, he may not receive forgive- 
ness in the world nor in the 
world to come. (D&C 76:31-35; 
Heb. 6:4-6.) 

Another fact we should know 
is that the testimony may come 
gradually, over a long period of 
time. President Joseph F. Smith 
said that as a boy he asked the 
Lord to show him some marvelous 
manifestation that he might have 
a testimony. But the Lord with- 
held these things from him and 
showed him line upon line, here 
a little and there a little, until 
he knew the truth from the 
crown of his head to the soles of 
his feet. By the whisperings of 
the still small voice of the Spirit 
he received a testimony. (Latter- 
day Prophets and the Doctrine 
and Covenants 11:316.) 

I believe we should remember 
that study of the books of scrip- 
ture will greatly aid us in not 
only obtaining a living witness of 
the truth, but also to retain one. 
I believe that it is necessary for 
a Latter-day Saint to study the 
standard works of the Church in 
order for him to have a living, 
vibrant, testimony. An example 
of what I mean is this account 
concerning the power of The 
Book of Mormon to impart a 
testimony given by Elder Marion 
G. Romney of the Council of the 
Twelve, in a General Conference 
sermon : 

I remember reading it [the Book of 
Mormon] with one of my lads when 
he was very young. On one occasion 
I lay in the lower bunk and he in the 
upper bunk. We were each reading 
aloud alternate paragraphs of those 
last three marvelous chapters of Sec- 
ond Nephi. I heard his voice breaking 
and thought he had a cold, but we 

went on to the end of the three chap- 
ters. As we finished he said to me, 
"Daddy, do you ever cry when you 
read the Book of Mormon?" 

"Yes, Son," I answered. "Some- 
times the Spirit of the Lord so 
witnesses to my soul that the Book of 
Mormon is true that I do cry." 

"WeU," he said, "that is what 
happened to me tonight." 

I know not all of them will respond 
like that, but I know that some of 
them will, and I tell you this book was 
given to us of God to read and to live 
by, and it will hold us as close to the 
Spirit of the Lord as anything I know 
{Conference Reports, April 1949, page 

I believe that what Brother 
Romney said about The Book of 
Mormon is equally true of the 
other books of scripture. 

It is also true that a full- 
fledged testimony, if I may use 
that expression, must be about 
all of the gospel and not only a 
part. One may, however, receive 
a testimony about one or several 
principles, such as that the law 
of tithing is true, that a virtuous 
Hfe is exalting, that it is nec- 
essary to be honest and truthful. 
Testimony of a certain principle 
of the gospel comes because we 
live that principle. We do not 
have a testimony of the Word of 
Wisdom, or another principle of 
the gospel, unless we live that 
principle. When I live all of the 
principles of the gospel, then I 
have a testimony of all of them. 
In the meantime, that is, as I 
come to know the validity of 
many principles of the gospel, my 
understanding of other principles 
is enlarged, and my faith to ac- 
cept all of the principles of the 
gospel is also increased. 

These ideas, though probably 
only partially stated here, bring 
us to a consideration of another 
important facet of our discussion. 



As one receives a testimony, so 
also one may lose it. Negligence 
in observing sincere prayer, a 
lack of study of gospel principles; 
a lack of participation in Church 
activities; stepping aside from 
living some of the principles of 
morality; perhaps, finding fault 
with one's fellow Church mem- 
bers and with the leadership of 
the Church, all result in weak- 
ened faith and a withdrawal of 
the Spirit of the Lord from our 
lives. What is the result? Dis- 
contentment, unhappiness of 
heart, and a loss of peace and 
serenity of mind. But these ad- 
verse feelings come in this life. 
Greater still, is the loss of the 
great blessings of eternal life in 
the eternities to come. 

Let us consider in the remain- 
ing time, the reasons why each 
one of us should have a divine 
witness that The Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints is 
God's Church and that our exal- 
tation will be earned only by our 
having a witness for ourselves. 

First, the person who has a liv- 
ing testimony of the truth is a 
person of conviction. Converted 
herself, she is a converter of 
others. The power of testimony is 
well known in this Church. By 
the sincere testimony, the lives of 
tens of thousands of converts to 
this Church are changed to a 
meaningful and happier life. The 
teacher in the classroom or the 
executive in the Relief Society, 
the board member who has a 
testimony, exude faith, helpful- 
ness, and strength of purpose. 

Second, those who continue to 
learn and to practice that knowl- 
edge are not deceived by every 
wind of doctrine or teaching that 
is not in agreement with the prin- 

ciples of the gospel. President 
Joseph F. Smith said: 

Where would you have people go 
who are unsettled in the truth? The 
answer is plain. They will not find/ 
satisfaction in the doctrines of men. 
Let them seek for it in the written 
word of God; let them pray to him in 
their secret chambers . . . and in their 
closets petition for light; let them obey 
the doctrines of Jesus, and they will 
immediately begin to grow in the 
knowledge of the truth. This course 
will bring peace to their souls, joy to 
their hearts, and a settled conviction 
which no change can disturb. They 
may be well assured that "he that 
heareth in secret will reward them 
openly." Let them seek for strength 
from the Source of all strength, and 
he will provide spiritual contentment, 
a rest which is incomparable with the 
physical rest that cometh after toil. 
All who seek have a right to, and may 
enter into, the rest of God, here upon 
the earth, from this time forth, now, 
today; and when earth-life is finished, 
they shall also enjoy his rest in 
heaven (Joseph F. Smith, Gospel 
Doctrine. Ninth Edition, pp. 126-127) . 

Third, the testimony is a 
shield against sin. When tempta- 
tions come, temptations' entic- 
ings are easily rejected. The per- 
son who knows that there is a 
conscious existence after death 
and that all people will come to 
judgment, is the wise person, for 
he will act upon that knowledge 
and forsake the appearance of 

Fourth, to the Latter-day 
Saint with a testimony, there 
comes the blessing of comfort and 
strength in times of difficulty. No 
one of us has a guarantee against 
adversity. All of us, however, 
have a guarantee, if we live for it, 
to receive the comforting peace 
that comes by the Spirit. 

Fifth, as a member of the 
Church increases in testimony 


APRIL 1966 

and he receives positive knowl- 
edge of the truth, his abiHty to 
Hve the principles of the gospel 

Sixth, this person will find 
greater enthusiasm for the work 
of the Lord. Problems of adminis- 
tration, of teaching, of leadership, 
which to the nonconverted would 
be impossible of solution, or who 
would lack the drive to achieve, 
find solution because the one 
with a testimony knows that God 
will help and assist those who 
faithfully serve him. 

Seventh, the testimony is a 
bulwark of strength against the 
troublous times predicted for the 
last days. Wars, rumors of wars, 
civil strife that endangers lives 
and property, the love of man for 
fellow man growing cold, the 
ravages of the natural calamities, 
and the extreme wickedness with 
which we are bombarded, all of 
these are a part of our times, and 
they test the moral fibre of all 
people. President Heber C. Kim- 
ball said prophetically: 

Let me say to you, that many of you 
will see the time when you will have 
all the trouble, trial and persecution 
that you can stand, and plenty of 
opportunities to show that you are 
true to God and his work. This Church 
has before it many close places 
through which it will have to pass be- 
fore the work of God is crowned with 
victory. To meet the difficulties that 
are coming, it will be necessary for 
you to have a knowledge of the truth 
of this work for yourselves. The diffi- 
culties will be of such a character that 
the man or woman who does not 
possess this personal knowledge or 
witness will fall. If you have not got 
the testimony, live right and call upon 
the Lord and cease not till you obtain 
it. If you do not you will not stand. 

Remember these sayings, for many 
of you will live to see them fulfilled. 
The time will come when no man nor 
woman will be able to endure on 

borrowed light. Each will have to be 
guided by the light within himself. If 
you do not have it, how can you 
stand? Do you believe it? (Life of 
Heber C. Kimball, pp. 449-450). 

In addition to these seven 
blessings accruing to the Latter- 
day Saint with a testimony, it 
seems to me that all members of 
the Relief Society would do the 
following things if they had a 
testimony : 

First, they would follow the 
counsel of the Lord given in 1836 
to a member of the Church in 
a leadership position: ". . . 
strengthen your brethren in all 
your conversation, in all your 
prayers, in all your exhortations, 
and in all your doings" (D&C 
108:7). In other words, every 
member of the Church would sus- 
tain unreservedly those who pre- 
side over him whether they be 
General Authorities, stake and 
mission authorities, or ward and 
branch officers. They would do 
everything in their power to 
strengthen those who were serv- 
ing them by their prayers, in all 
their conversations, in their 
teaching and preaching, in fact, 
in every way. 

Second, the person with a tes- 
timony will seek to build Zion on 
the earth. Early in the dispensa- 
tion, the Lord told his people that 
this was the most important 
thing for them to do. To build 
Zion means to be so dedicated to 
the truth that one's actions, ef- 
forts, means, and abilities are 
placed upon the altar for our 
Savior in building his kingdom 
upon the earth. It means, as to 
the Relief Society or any of the 
organizations of the Church, in- 
cluding the Priesthood, that we 
all become as the ancient Zion of 



Enoch's day, ''of one heart and 
one mind" (Moses 7:18). The 
ideal Zion-condition in the hves 
of each individual was expressed 
by President Brigham Young in 
these words: ''I live and walk in 
Zion every day " {Journal of Dis- 
courses 1:4). 

Translating this concept into 
what is expected of every Latter- 
day Saint, it seems to me that he 
or she who has a testimony of 
real substance, that person will 
pay his full tithing, observe the 
Word of Wisdom, be honest and 
truthful, virtuous in his life, seek 
the advancement of his fellow 
man, and will accept all of these 
principles and also responsibil- 
ities in the Church, whether con- 
sidered small or large, for all 
advance the cause of Zion. 

The First Presidency composed 
of President Brigham Young, 
Heber C. Kimball, and Jedediah 
M. Grant, has given us an insight 
into the blessings received by 
those who have a testimony of 
the truth: 

Incomparable delight and happiness 
fill the soul of the faithful Saint, who 
has the testimony of Jesus and the 
Spirit of the living God to enlighten 
his understanding. Happiness su- 
preme and love divine fill his bosom, 
as he seeks to impart the gladsome 
intelligence to his fellow species, that 
they may also be partakers with him 
in the glorious cause, and share in its 
blessings. Thus our holy religion 
absorbs every feeling, desire, ambition, 
motive, and action of our natures, and 
renders every association in life tribu- 
tary thereto; it forms the vitality of 
our very existence; it enters not only 
into our spiritual but also into our 
temporal organization, and controls 
us in all our affairs. This is true of 
every person who has tasted the good 
work of life, has received the Holy 
Ghost, and continues to walk in the 
light, and be led by its gentle influ- 

ence. This is salvation in the kingdom 
of God, it is glory celestial, and exalta- 
tion. This is the work that makes 
angry the adversary, who fears the 
overthrow of his kingdom and power 
upon the earth, that causes Satan to 
rage and seek to destroy the Saints 
of the Most High, as he did in the 
days of Jesus and of his Apostles and 
followers (Latter-day Prophets and 
the Doctrine and Covenants 1:434). 

As I close these remarks, I 
want to express my deep appre- 
ciation for the opportunity I have 
had and that I am still enjoying 
in writing the theology lessons for 
the Relief Society. I have learned 
that the sisters of the Relief So- 
ciety are dedicated to the build- 
ing of Zion upon the earth. 

Let us return to the doubting 
student mentioned in the begin- 
ning of these remarks. To him 
and to all people, I can say that 
if a person seeks with all his 
heart to know of God's existence, 
that Jesus Christ is the Savior of 
men, and to know that Joseph 
Smith was a prophet of God, 
these truths will be made known 
to him by the power of the Holy 

I want also to express this fact. 
Regardless of ideas and thoughts 
to the contrary, ultimately, in 
each person's life there must 
come the conviction of the Holy 
Ghost. I know that revelation is 
in this Church, that the Lord's 
promise, as follows, is true: 

If thou shalt ask, thou shalt receive 
revelation upon revelation, knowledge 
upon knowledge, that thou mayest 
know the mysteries and peaceable 
things — that which bringeth joy, that 
which bringeth life eternal (D&C 

In the name of Jesus Christ, 


Thomena's Break -Tlirouqh 

Dorothy Clapp Robinson 

■ ''Mumm-mm." Thomena Laud- 
wehr scrutinized herself in her 
bedroom mirror. "Mum — mm." 
Not beautiful, but not lacking in 
beauty, either. The thing was, she 
knew what she wanted to see, so 
it should have been easy to find 
what she was looking for; but, 
search as she might, the image in 
the mirror did not reflect strength, 
nor the power to make decisions. 
With a deep sigh, Thomena 
reached for her purse and count- 
ed the few dollars it contained. 
She had really struggled to save 
them. She wanted to buy Ursula 
Laudwehr, her mother-in-law, a 
birthday present. Thomena had 
discovered the date when search- 
ing Derek's family group sheet. 

The problem now was, did she 
dare offer Ursula Laudwehr a 
present she would buy with so 

Mrs. Laudwehr had everything, 
it seemed, including a daughter- 
in-law she highly resented. 

''Derek," she had asked at the 
breakfast table a few months 
after their marriage, ''Why do 
you love me?" 

Derek had dropped the toast 
he was about to sample. "Be- 
cause you ask such unexpected 

"Be serious. Why do you love 

Derek's eyes had scrutinized 
her, his mouth puckered. "Why 
do I love thee? Let me count the 



reasons. You are adorable, you 
are beautiful, you are cuddly." 
• "Derek:' 

"You did not let me finish. 
You are intelligent, and you are 
in every detail the girl I wanted 
for my wife." 

"Oh, you. ... I have no 
strength of character; no power 
to make decisions. I don't know 
how to treat your mother." 

Derek choked on the milk he 
was drinking. After a show of 
coughing, he said, "Now she tells 
me, after making me wait for two 
years before she would give me 
the glad word. That was because 
she could not make up her 

"No. I knew I was going to 
marry you long before you asked 

"Is that right?" 

"I mean — well, your mother 
doesn't approve of me." 

"What has that to do with your 
power to make decisions?" 

"She disapproves of me. She 
disapproves of my — our religion. 
She doesn't answer my letters; 
when she does write, her letters 
are addressed to you. I can't 
make up my mind what to do." 

"The trouble with my mother 
is, she makes too many decisions 
for other people; and I insist on 
making my ov/n. Perhaps you 
have noticed. Our children will be 
so decisive they will make up 
your mind for you — whether or 
no." He rose from the table, then 
stooped to kiss her. "Don't you 
worry, Tom-Baby. When you are 
in doubt always follow your 

They had been almost delir- 
iously happy that first year. Mrs. 
Laudwehr had refused to give 
Derek support unless he would 
come to his senses and enter the 

University where he belonged. He 
must follow the traditional fam- 
ily pattern. Luckily, he had had 
a small income from an uncle's 
estate. He did tutoring, and 
Thomena worked part time so 
they had managed without debt. 
But now there was a baby com- 
ing, and the unpleasant facts 
Thomena had forced to the back 
of her mind appeared and de- 
manded to be recognized. No 
home could be complete without 
a parent or a grandparent. Thom- 
ena had adored the grandmother 
who had reared her; and the aunts 
and uncles and cousins — why, life 
would be unbearable without 
them. Derek found in Uncle Jim 
the father he had never known, 
and Thomena must find in Mrs. 
Laudwehr the mother she had 
never known. So, clearly, it was 
up to her to find some way to 
resolve the situation. And she 
could not even decide on a birth- 
day present. 

Last fall Mrs. Laudwehr had 
appeared on the faculty of their 
university as an exchange profes- 
sor. She rented an expensive 
apartment. It should have been 
a time of rejoicing, but it was not. 
Thomena's disk of happiness 
would not play on her emotional 
machine. No friendship devel- 
oped, and without friendship how 
could anyone find love? 

Thomena turned from the 
mirror. Taking her sweater and 
purse, she went into the living 
room just as Derek and his 
friend, Phil Harris, came bound- 
ing up the stairs. 

"Hi, Tom-Baby. I was afraid 
you might be gone. Come in, 
Phil, arid don't mind my hugging 
my adorable wife. Isn't she beau- 

Thomena's face colored with 


APRIL 1966 

embarrassment. "But, why are 
you home this time of the day?" 
she asked when she could. 

"Phil and I have to go to 
Lowell Peak dam to watch the 
installation of some electronic 
machinery. We must write papers 
on it. We may be gone a week, 
and I do not want to leave you 
that long without the car. Will 
you drive us up?" 

"Surely, I would love to." But 
after they were away from town 
and speeding toward the high 
hills, she thought of Mrs. Laud- 
wehr's birthday. "Today is your 
mother's birthday," she told 
Derek, "and I should get back 
before the stores close." 

"I'm sorry, but it is too late 
now for me to see her. She will 
not mind. She quit having birth- 
days before I was old enough to 
buy her a present. Give her a kiss 
fo'r me, but do not mention her 
birthday. She will not like it." 

"The stores are open until 
eight tonight," Phil said, "and it 
won't take longer than half an 
hour to buy a present, so you 
should be able to make it." 

The three were sitting in the 
front seat, Derek driving effort- 
lessly as he did most things. 
At Phil's suggestion, Thomena 
turned her head to hide a smile. 
How little he knew about buy- 
ing a present, and she had been 
looking for the past month. 

The drive could have been so 
wonderful if Thomena had not 
been so conscious of time. Over 
and over, she listed in her mind 
possible purchases that would be 
suitable and acceptable — but she 
would never get back in time to 
shop. Occasionally, a small town 
would offer something more valu- 
able than could be found in the 
city. She remembered once in a 

small-town bookstore she had 
found a first edition of Huckle- 
berry Finn. On the flyleaf it said, 
"Christmas, 1894. To my beloved 
nephew." She had paid ten cents 
for the book. Perhaps she could 
give that to Mrs. Laudwehr — 
but, no, her mother-in-law un- 
doubtedly appreciated first edi- 
tions, but not of a juvenile book. 

"This is the sixteenth time 
you have looked at your watch 
in the last fifteen minutes," Der- 
ek broke her reverie. "Are you 
that anxious to say goodbye?" 

Thomena smiled. "Frankly, 
yes. I want to get into a store." 

"Bake her a cake." 

"You know she doesn't eat 
pastries. Too fattening." 

"Well, I like cake. Suppose you 
have one baked for me when I 
get back, and forget a present." 
Derek was always positive when 
speaking of his mother. "She 
doesn't like to be reminded of her 

Thomena's hopes sank. Perhaps 
Mrs. Laudwehr would resent 
being a grandmother. I can't 
buy her love with a present, 
she told herself, but the ice 
must be broken someway and 
it would be terrible not to be 
remembered on one's birthday. 
Christmas is for everybody, but 
a birthday is one's very own. 

"Well, here we are." Derek 
had driven across the causeway 
and stopped before an office 
building. He reached for his type- 
writer and briefcase. "You get 
with the baggage, Phil. I am driv- 
ing back to where the steep climb 
begins. Can't trust Tom-Baby 
to drive that alone. I will walk 

"But that is too far," Thom- 
ena protested. 



''Not nearly as far as from 
there to the bottom of the can- 

"I just remembered," Phil told 
Thomena, "after you leave this 
first canyon there is a turn to the 
right. It will take you through a 
small resort. You might find 
something there." 

'Thank you, Phil. I will take 
the turn." 

Derek maneuvered the car 
about and again crossed the 
causeway. Water was almost to 
the top of the dam. On the lower 
side there was nothing but a 
downward plunge with a great 
roaring spray issuing from three 
outlets. At the point in the road 
where the angle of descent lev- 
eled, Derek set the brakes. He 
got out and Thomena slipped be- 
hind the wheel. 

"You will be careful, won't 
you, darling? I never knew there 
could be anyone as precious as 

She leaned forward to receive 
his parting kiss. "You forget I 
have driven over mountain roads 
since I was old enough to have a 

"That is the only reason I am 
trusting you to make it back. 
Please, be careful." 

"I can't go without the keys." 

Derek's face went blank, then 
he laughed. "I was not conscious 
of having put them in my pocket. 
Here you are. ..." He stopped 
again and felt in all his pockets. 
"Thomena, I have come away 
without my wallet. Must have 
left it in the slacks. What shall 
I do?" 

"Shall I bring it up to you?" 

"No. I don't need anything 
but a little cash — have to pay 
for my board. Phil might have 
enough to lend me some, but I 

doubt it. He gets by on so little." 
Without hesitation, Thomena 
handed him her purse. He took 
the money from it and handed it 
back. "I dislike doing this. I 
know you were on your way 
downtown when we picked you 

There was another leavetaking, 
then Thomena realized she was 
going down the mountain at a 
fast pace. She felt a little light- 
headed. The decision had been 
taken from her; it was no longer 
her responsibility to buy a birth- 
day present; but she had done her 
best. She took the road Phil had 
suggested, but as she had no 
money she drove through the re- 
sort without stopping. 

But her mother-in-law's birth- 
day still kept intruding on her 
thoughts. Derek had been offered 
a teaching fellowship, so they 
were sure to be here two more 
years. Would Ursula Laudwehr 
move when they did? What dif- 
ference would it make? The next 
two years, she reasoned, would be 
as important as any two years of 
their lives; perhaps more so, for 
the wider the gap the harder it 
would be to bridge. The day 
would not be over until twelve 
o'clock and — here I go again, 
she thought. Why can't I just for- 
get? The decision was taken out 
of my hands. 

In the canyon, dusk was set- 
tling heavily over trees and road. 
She made a turn that brought 
her to an opening between the 
hills. Here the sun was still shin- 
ing. For a moment it almost 
blinded her. She drew to the 
side of the road and stopped the 
car. Sunshine lay like a dappled 
but physical blanket over a small 
clearing. "A crowd, a host of gold- 


APRIL 1966 

en daffodils," she quoted, only 
the flowers were not daffodils, 
but common everyday butter- 
cups, the kind she had picked as 
a child. 

Suddenly Thomena's hopes 
flared — it might be possible yet. 
She was out of the car and 
picking buttercups before her 
thoughts had quite jelled. 

She began picking, choosing 
only the largest long-stemmed 
ones. When she had all she could 
hold in her two hands, she re- 
turned to the car and laid them 
on the back seat. Now — if she 
hurried she could arrange the 
blossoms in a vase; at least, it 
would be a birthday remem- 
brance, if not a present. 

When nearly to the county 
road, she stopped the car so 
suddenly she was thrown against 
the steering wheel. Before her 
was another expanse of flowers, 
sego lilies, this time. Buttercups 
did not mean anything in par- 
ticular; sego lilies did. They were 
sort of a s3nitibol. She started 
picking. The plants were not 


thickly grouped as were the 
buttercups, but they were larger 
and more colorful than any she 
had ever seen. The lilac and gold 
in the centers were more vivid 
and the petals creamier than 
usual. She moved about choosing, 
discarding. She laid the lilies be- 

side the buttercups, then hurried 
to get home before they wilted. 

Thomena put both bouquets 
on the kitchen table while she 
hunted for a vase. She found one 
of olive-green porcelain. It was 
fashioned with a square foot and 
a stem that flared into a shallow 

Thomena chose her blossoms 
carefully and arranged them as 
tastefully as she could. But she 
could not trust the car seat to 
hold the vase so the water would 
not spill, and she could not trust 
the blossoms out of water for 
another half hour; besides, she 
wanted to enter Ursula's presence 
with the arrangement intact. It 
would make a better impression. 
She would have to walk and carry 
the offering. 

At the Centralia, where Mrs. 
Laudwehr lived, Thomena took 
the elevator to the twelfth floor. 
She walked carefully down the 
hall and knocked at number 983. 
What if Mrs. Laudwehr laughed 
at her present, or, worse still, pre- 
tended to like it? Thomena could 
not help that happening, much as 
she would regret it; it was her 
privilege to give and Mrs. Laud- 
wehr's to receive in any manner 
she saw fit. 

Ursula Laudwehr opened the 
door, and for a moment stood 
blinking at the tired looking, 
disheveled girl. "Come in." 

"Happy, birthday," Thomena 
said, and took two steps into the 
living room." Then she stumbled 
and water sloshed from the shal- 
low vase onto the rose carpet. 
She sat down, abruptly, set the 
vase away from her, and began to 
cry. She was tired, she was 
hungry, and she had ruined 

Ursula frowned. She studied 



the girl intently, then a faint 
smile softened her features. She 
brought a towel and wiped the 
water from the rug. She took the 
vase away and returned with the 
arrangement intact. She placed it 
on the table before the couch on 
which she had been sitting. 

"You have made your point/' 
she said suddenly. "Come sit by 

The sobs stopped more abrupt- 
ly than they had begun. After a 
sniffle or two, Thomena wiped 
her eyes and her dress. "What do 
you mean?" she demanded. 

"Why did you come here?" 

"Why to— to—" 

"Exactly. Incidentally, this is 
the first birthday present I have 
been given since I was twelve 
years old. Thank you. I honor the 
thought that prompted the giv- 

"Why — why, Derek told me 
you didn't like birthday pres- 

"An unhappy experience at 
that age soured me, and I retali- 
ated in the only way I knew. 
When I matured a little, I could 
not find the softness to say I had 

A little reluctantly, Thomena 

sat on the couch; she was not 
prepared for a quick surrender. 
She looked at her mother-in-law 
and saw understanding in her 
eyes. "You are a sweetie-pie," she 
cried impulsively. Then her face 
flushed. "I didn't mean to be 
flippant. I know you dislike slang. 
Derek calls me 'Tom-Baby,' and 
I wish he wouldn't. It sounds so 
— so juvenile and like a cat." 

Mrs. Laudwehr actually smiled. 
"Let Derek be juvenile. It is a 
delayed reaction. He will recover. 
How would you like Ursula Mow- 
bray DeLilue Laudwehr for a 

"Horrible." Thomena leaned 
and kissed the owner of those 
names. "I know a much prettier 

"Tell me." 


Mrs. Laudwehr 's eyes har- 
dened briefly. She drew a deep 
breath. "So be it." Then she 
succumbed. "After all, no matter 
how much she may resent it 
every oldish woman needs a 

"Every child needs a grand- 
mother." Thomena kissed her 
again, then said belatedly, 
"Happy birthday, Mother." 


Vilate R. McAllister 

Happiness, flaunting butterfly wings, 
Fluttered beyond my grasp. 

In vain I pursued the dancing wraith, 
Far too elusive to clasp. 

Discouraged and tired, I stopped to rest. 
And quietly sat on a boulder. 

Happiness fluttered near again. 

And presently lit on my shoulder! 




and Art 

of the B As 


Ellen N. Barnes 

Member, General Board 
of Relief Society 

(Talk Delivered at the Music 

Department Meeting of the 

Relief Society Annual General 

Conference, September 30, 1965) 

PSALM 100 

Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, 
all ye lands. Serve the Lord with 
gladness: come before his presence 
with singing. Know ye that the Lord 
he is God: it is he that hath made us, 
and not we ourselves; we are his 
people, and the sheep of his pasture. 
Enter into his gates with thanksgiving, 
and into his courts with praise: be 
thankful unto him, and bless his name. 
For the Lord is good; his mercy is 
everlasting; and his truth endureth to 
all generations. 

■ The frequently quoted expres- 
sion that ''accompanists are born 
and not made" is one with which 
I do not agree. Accompanying is 
an acquired art, and one which 
any good pianist can master. One 
can be guided a long way on the 
road which leads to proficiency. 
Beyond a certain point, however, 
the individual must have learned 
all of the mechanics involved and 
be able to profit by his own ex- 
perience. One can learn to play 
the notes of an accompaniment 
with skill, but the art of accom- 
panying and ensemble playing 
will come to him only as a result 
of his own efforts in study, per- 
severance, patience, and experi- 
ence. The playing of accompani- 
ments should not be regarded as 
a stepping stone to other things, 
but rather the accompanist's 
work is sufficiently rewarding in 
itself. Those who have had the 
experience of being an accompa- 
nist know the delight which this 
area of music-making can give. 

The conductor and singers de- 
pend upon the accompanist at all 
times for support and inspiration. 
Sir Landon Ronald once said: 
'The world is overstocked with 
brilliant solo pianists, but there 
are precious few good accompa- 


The great accompanist Gerald 
Moore stated: 

The popular conception of an ade- 
quate accompanist is of a quiet, 
modest individual, seen but not heard, 
an affable automation, obediently 
following the soloist and oozing with 
sympathy and discretion from every 
pore .... only on the rarest occasion 
should the accompanist be satisfied 
with providing an unobtrusive murmur 
in the background. Such an attitude 
would ruin the works of any great 

To the singer, a good accompa- 
nist means good work, and good 
work means enjoyable work. 

A good or competent accompa- 
nist does not follow, but antici- 
pates and goes hand in hand 
with the conductor and singers. 
Skill in doing this is acquired by 
proper coordinated attention. 
The music must be well in hand, 
including mastery of the singer's 
part, so that the accompanist can 
be alert to subtle changes in tem- 
po or dynamics which are not 
indicated in the score. Being sen- 
sitive to the conductor's wishes 
in observing these nuances, adds 
greatly to the charm and interest 
of the music. These subtleties 
cannot be easily taught, but are 
developed as the result of study, 
concentration, and experience. 

Brother J. Spencer Cornwall 
states in his book Fundamentals 
of Conducting, that: 

A conductor cannot appreciate too 
highly an efficient accompanist — one 
who can anticipate his every need — 
one who will sound the pitch in a 
rehearsal at every necessary point 
without being told — one who can right 
a tempo which has slackened or ac- 
celerated — one who can boost the 
pitch of the singers when it has 
flatted and one who can follow every 
movement of the conductor and 
exemplify it in his playing. 

When the work of the conductor 
and accompanist complement each 
other in all phases of musical per- 
formance, the situation is ideal. 

An accompaniment is not writ- 
ten as an afterthought. It must 
be the foundation for the entire 
musical structure of the composi- 
tion. Any piece of music with a 
poorly written or poorly played 
accompaniment is doomed to 

Accompaniments are not only 
important because of their tech- 
nical difficulty, but may, because 
of their simplicity, give the sen- 
sitive pianist much more to think 
about. Many pianists do not take 
enough time to work for quality 
of tone and a variety of shadings 
in a simple or easily read accom- 
paniment. The singers want 
something more than the casual 
playing of mere notes. The sim- 
plicity of these accompaniments 
demands that they be treated 
reverently. The accompanist must 
be able to interpret and play the 
music from a variety of compos- 
ers, in a variety of styles to suit 
the composer as well as the 
nature of the composition. Learn 
to analyze the music and listen 
critically to your playing of it. 

In preparation for learning a 
new song, one should first of all 
study the words. The accompani- 
ment to every good song paints a 
picture or creates a mood which 
is inspired by the words. There- 
fore, the accompanist and con- 
ductor, as well as the singers, 
must depend upon these words 
to guide them. What character 
can an accompanist give to her 
playing if she is not familiar with 
the words? How can she possibly 
feel a unity of expression with the 
conductor and singers if she does 


APRIL 1966 

not know the words, and under- 
stand the meaning of them? 


Now let us consider some of 
the attributes which are of prime 
importance in developing the art 
of piano playing and accompany- 
ing. First of all, one must have a 
good position at the piano. She 
should be at a comfortable height 
so that her hands rest easily on 
the keyboard to be held on a 
plane nearly level with the fore- 
arms. The hands should be 
cupped, with fingers curved, so 
that a good singing tone can be 
produced. The weight of the arm 
centers in the ball of the finger- 
tip as it comes in contact with 
the key. The wrist should be re- 
laxed at all times. 


In developing tone quality, one 
should learn to listen to oneself. 
This is of utmost importance. 
There should be no harsh sounds, 
but constant striving to develop 
a beautiful singing tone. Practice 
a hymn and try to bring out dif- 
ferent melodic lines (soprano, 
alto, or tenor) in a succession of 
chords. While the soprano voice 
in an accompaniment frequently 
sings out, very often a tone in an 
inner voice may be of vital impor- 
tance and must be brought out to 
indicate a change of key or har- 
mony. One should learn to con- 
trol the tone so that all tones, 
except the melodic tone in a 
chord, are subdued. If one learns 
to use the fingers with sensitivity, 
a variety of touch can be devel- 
oped, and, by experimenting with 
touch, a variety of tone colors 
can be produced. 


Observe the phrasing and mus- 
ical punctuation indicated in the 
score. Practice to develop the art 
of beautiful phrasing. Phrases are 
usually indicated by long curved 
lines over the notes. The notes 
within a phrase are usually 
played legato (smoothly) ; the 
end of a phrase is often indicated 
by a break or slight lift of the 
wrist. However, there must be no 
interruption in the rhythm. 

The accompanist must listen 
constantly to the balance of tone. 
She must keep under but give 
strong support to the singers. 


Scale practice is the very foun- 
dation of piano technique. A scale 
is a (developing) chain in which 
all of the notes are played pre- 
cisely alike and are very even in 
tone. They must be played 
smoothly and connected as in 
legato playing. In this, there is 
no break between tones. One 
finger comes up as the other goes 
down. Up motions are the exact 
reciprocal of down motions; the 
one must equal and counterbal- 
ance the other. This reciprocity 
is of vital importance. Clearness, 
fluency, and general control of 
the fingers depend upon this 
reciprocal action. In a poorly ex- 
ecuted scale it is probable that 
the up motions are neither as 
quick as the down motions, nor 
as accurately timed. In playing 
a whole note, for example, the 
finger that has been correctly 
trained goes down to the key and 
is lifted with precisely the same 
speed with which it would play a 
group of 64th notes. The only 
difference is the length of time 
that the finger remains on the 



key. The reasons for this quick 
finger action are: (1) good qual- 
ity of tone is achieved; (2) power 
is secured; and (3) speed is ob- 
tained, and the scale is legato — 
played smoothly. 

Learn to play with skill the 
scales, arpeggios, and chords of 
all major and minor keys. This 
will make learning new music 
much easier. 


Good pedaling is of great im- 
portance. Syncopated pedaling is 
used in most of our hymns. To 
acquire proficiency in syncopated 
pedaling, practice a scale putting 
the sustaining pedal down just 
after a key is played. The pedal 
comes up as the next key is 
struck, and goes down while you 
are still holding the key. Apply 
this principle as you practice the 
hymns and you will find that 
they will sound much more 
smoothly. If a tone or bass chord 
is to be held through the phrase, 
the pedal must catch the low 
tone and sustain it. As a rule, the 
pedal changes with the harmonic 


Learn the meaning of all the 
markings on the pages of music 
in a song. Follow the composer's 
markings accurately . Get a mus- 
ical dictionary and use it regular- 
ly for reference. (Elson's is a good 
one.) Study the dynamics (tone 
volume) and learn to control the 
amount of tone you use accord- 
ing to the specific directions of 
the composer. For example, a 
crescendo must be a gradual in- 
crease in tone and a diminuendo 
a gradual decrease in tone. Learn 
to observe all markings in every 

piece of music you play. This will 
greatly increase the interest of 
the music both to the performer 
as well as to the listener. 


Rhythm in music consists of 
regular recurring accents. The 
rhythm must be sure and steady. 
A metronome is of some help, but 
learn to rely on yourself. Always 
count time, but, of course, to 
yourself. Learn the measure sig- 
natures and follow them accu- 
rately. It is important that you 
do not neglect the rests; count 
them the same as you do the 


Check the metronome mark- 
ings and be sure the speed of 
your rhythms is correct. 

Sister Florence J. Madsen says 
in her book Music Leadership in 
Relief Society: ''Make sure that 
the tempo is comfortable for the 
singers and enchances the beauty, 
dignity, and character of the 
song." A word of caution — many 
songs may lose the spirit or fail 
to be enthusiastically received by 
being taken at too slow or too 
fast a tempo. A sense of timing 
is all important. The conductor 
has to rely on an efficient ac- 
companist who has the musician- 
ship and training, to keep the 
proper tempo, and give support 
and inspiration to the conductor 
and singers. All should work to- 
gether to achieve a successful 
and beautiful performance. Here, 
again, one must keep in mind the 
text and meaning of the words 
to the song. The feeling must be 
personal and dynamic, if you are 
to touch the hearts of the listen- 
ers. Both conductor and accom- 


APRIL 1966 

panist must radiate enthusiasm 
and love for both the singers 
and the music. The accompanist 
should learn to forget the fingers 
and keep his eye on the vocal 
line. Sing the words to yourself 
and make a mental note of where 
the singers breathe. 


Fifteen minutes a day practice 
in sight reading can greatly im- 
prove one's ability and give con- 
fidence in playing and learning 
new music. Begin with reading 
simple compositions and, grad- 
ually, increase the difficulty of 
the music as you gain in confi- 
dence and proficiency. It would 
be well to start with the first 
hymn and go through the entire 
book. This would give the accom- 
panist a general acquaintance 
with all of the hymns. As she re- 
turns to practice them, she should 
read the texts and decide which 
style and mood belong to each 
song and play them accordingly. 
As the hymns are played, do 
make sure that both hands strike 
the chord in unison or together. 
Never, never play the left hand 
before the right hand. In sight 
reading, it is very important al- 
ways to maintain an even beat 
and take it at a slower tempo. 
If some notes are left out, it will 
not matter — but do maintain the 


In playing the prelude or intro- 
duction and interlude in a song 
or hymn, it is very important that 
these passages be played with 
authority, employing all the tech- 
nique of fine piano playing. In 
both places, the tempo of the 
song should be maintained. 

The introduction of a hymn 
should consist of the beginning 
four measures or first phrase, and 
end with the last four measures 
or last phrase. If the hymn is 
short, all of it may be played. An 
interlude, consisting of the last 
phrase of the hymn, may be 
played after the second verse. Do 
not wander away in some impro- 
visation that takes the singers 
away from the tune they are sing- 
ing. In a song, these preludes and 
interludes are solo parts for the 
piano and must be made inter- 
esting and beautiful. These are 
places where the piano can speak 
and assume the leadership. 

Sister Madsen says: 

Prelude music is played for the pur- 
pose of generating a spirit of devo- 
tion and worship, and not for drown- 
ing out conversation and noise. The 
accompanist therefore should choose 
music that is of a subdued and quiet 
nature and not a display of volimie, 
speed, or technique (Ibid, page 34). 

Again, I want to emphasize to 
you that you must practice and 
learn to play the music beautiful- 
ly. Your goal of inspiring a spirit 
of devotion and worship cannot 
be achieved if you play inaccu- 
rately, carelessly, or with faulty 
phrasing or technique. Remem- 
ber that if you are invited to be- 
come the Relief Society stake or 
ward organist or chorister, it is 
an opportunity for growth and 
development. Any mother who is 
herself growing and learning will 
be a far better mother. We all 
need to feel that we are improv- 
ing our talents and abilities and 
this must continue throughout 
life if we are pursuing our Heav- 
enly Father's plan for us. 

Make stake leadership music 
department an inspiration and of 



real value to ward leaders. The 
organists should meet separately 
for a short time and discuss ap- 
propriate prelude music. They 
should play for each other and 
exchange ideas. They can discuss 
the fundamentals of musicianship 
and of interpretation, observing 
phrasing and dynamics and even 
technical problems. The chorister 
and organist should plan togeth- 
er for the leadership meetings 
throughout the year, using their 
ingenuity and understanding of 
the needs in the wards. If the 
ward leaders feel that they are 
getting some real help, they will 
make every effort to attend, and 
the standard of music in the wards 
will be raised immeasurably. It 
will become vitalized and, sisters, 
we do need to vitalize the music 
in stakes, wards, and branches. 
Study continuously , and you and 
the Church will reap the rewards. 
In conclusion, I should like to 
urge all of you to attend as many 
concerts — especially orchestral — 
as you can, and constantly listen 
to good music. Study the tonal 

and dynamic effects, the melodic 
line, the harmonic progression, 
and balance of tone. Listen to the 
instruments which play the mel- 
ody or theme and try to follow 
its development. 

I can't stress this continuing 
education too strongly. We should 
maintain the highest standards 
in our music, both for services 
and performances. There must al- 
ways be growth and development. 
Excellence is the result of atten- 
tion to seemingly insignificant 
details — the shading of the piano, 
the accent of a word, the chang- 
ing of the countenance. The key 
to achieving excellence is to give 
three times the amount of work 
and attention to learning the 
composition that you consider 

May our Heavenly Father 
bless our efforts as we strive to 
improve our talents and ability 
to develop the art of accompany- 
ing so that we can make worth- 
while contributions to the Church 
and, specifically, to Relief So- 


Delia Adams Leitner 

Jesus lifted up his hands 

A blessing to invoke 
On his disciples when he left, 

And as the words he spoke 
They listened to his final thought 

That henceforth they should be 
His messengers of gospel news, 

Proclaimed from sea to sea. 

He "lifted up his hands," and we, 

Heirs of his truth, should go 
With hands that lift to serve in love, 

The heart's rich overflow; 
Hands that bring help, supply, and aid. 

Obeying his commands, 
Channels for comfort, courage, hope. 

Our "lifting up" of hands. 



I Certain 


Frances Carter Yost 

■ Fanny Carlsen hummed a med- 
ley of favorite tunes as she sewed 
the buttons on the dress she had 
just finished making. This was 
a special dress, for a special oc- 
casion. True, the dress, like all of 
Fanny's clothes, would be worn 
for years and years. But this dress 
would be forever remembered and 
referred to as the dress for the 
trip in 1966. 

Fanny and Alex Carlsen en- 
joyed life. They loved their cozy 
home surrounded by a well-kept 
yard, garnished with flowers and 
vegetables and a few thriving 
fruit trees. Alex liked his job at 
the plant, and his boss. They ap- 
preciated the people of their 
neighborhood, both grownups 
and little folks. They liked their 
ward family and their stake ac- 
quaintances. They had a few 
really choice friends with whom 
they visited back and forth. Yes, 
Fanny thought, she and Alex 
lived a good, full life, but the 

highlight of it all was always their 
annual trip. 

The trip was a twelve-hundred- 
mile journey they took during 
Alex's two weeks' vacation. The 
trip was to see their son Tom and 
his family. 

Tom was their only child. He 
was a good son, one of whom to 
be proud. When the Carlsens had 
started life together, they had 
hoped for a big family. Only one 
had come to bless their union. So 
they actually showered upon 
Tom love sufficient for a huge 

Fanny felt each year of their 
life spread out rich and full, but 
she admitted the two weeks going 
to see Tom was the highlight of 
the whole year. As she thought 
about it, they spent six months 
of the year remembering their 
trip, recalling the sheer joy of it 
all. Then they spent the next five 
and a half months planning for 
the next trip. 



Now the time was here . . . 
almost. They would leave on their 
trip in twelve more days. Fanny 
had their clothes all cleaned and 
pressed. Now she had this lovely 
new dress made to add sparkle 
to her wardrobe — and to remem- 
ber the trip, after it was all over. 

Fanny sat back and for a few 
minutes admired her work, as the 
dress hung on a hanger over the 
door. It was pretty. She had had 
good luck with it. The dress fit 
perfectly and felt good. It was 
so pretty she was tempted to 
wear it on the trip. But she 
thought it would be more fun to 
bring it out fresh and lovely for 
Tom and Barbara to see her in 
it, for the first time. 

"My goodness, I've been so en- 
grossed in my sewing, I haven't 
even watched for the mailman." 

Fanny hurried to the front 
door. A letter from Barbara! No! 
It's Tom's handwriting. How 
thoughtful of Tom to take time 
to write. He usually phoned, and 
left the writing to Barbara. 

Fanny Carlsen tore the en- 
velope open quickly and unfolded 
the letter. It was actually just a 
short note, probably a last minute 
invitation. Tom was so thought- 
ful. Fanny started reading, but 
before she had finished she with- 
ered into a nearby chair. 

Dear Mother and Dad: We won't 
be having house guests this summer. 
We'll reserve a room for you at one 
of the motels. Okeh? Love, Tom. 

When Fanny finally looked up 
from the letter lying on her lap, 
there was a blur over her eyes, 
like a cataract. She kept blinking 
to clear her vision, but the tears 
kept coming. 

Fanny was thankful to be 

alone. She hoped none of the 
neighbors dropped in until . . . 
until she had more control . . . 
until she could put on a gay 
front ... a pin-up smile. She 
knew it was downright foolish to 
cry like this. She mustn't make a 
mountain out of a molehill. Tom 
had sent his love. Some would 
think him generous, giving them 
the luxury of motel accommoda- 
tions. And yet — what was the 
saying her mother used when she 
made beds on the floor for the 
family when company came? 
''There's room in the house, if 
there's room in the heart." 

Through the tears, Fanny 
looked at the new dress. It some- 
how seemed hollow and lifeless. 
Where was the sparkle the dress 
had only minutes before? 

She would have to get hold of 
herself. She was acting like 
Chicken Little with the sky fall- 
ing. Lots of things had hap- 
pened in life worse than this. 
Think of poor little Mrs. Findley 
down the street with her letter 
only this week from Viet Nam — 
killed in action. 

'T wish Alex didn't have to see 
the letter. It will hurt him to the 

Fanny couldn't conceive of not 
showing it to Alex. She hadn't 
ever been deceitful. Then, too, 
keeping the letter would not 
solve the problem. She and Alex 
had shared all their joys and 
sorrows. They would have to 
share the letter and work some- 
thing out together. 

'Toor, dear Alex." 

Alex was getting along in years. 
He had been so proud that he 
could still drive those long miles 
to Tom's. Occasionally they had 
talked about the years ahead. 


APRIL 1966 

when Alex might not be able to 
drive. When that time came they 
would take the bus or the train. 
If they were financially able, they 
might fly to Tom's. But never 
had they considered not going 
to Tom's during their vacation. 
Of course, in the far distant 
years perhaps, when their health 
failed, they might not be able to 
go. But they prayed day by day 
that God would bless them with 
health and strength and finances 
... to go to Tom's. In their most 
haunting nightmares they had 
never suspicioned that perhaps 
Tom and Barbara and the chil- 
dren didn't want them to come. 
Had they actually — through the 
years — been unwanted guests? 

Fanny felt another deluge of 
tears breaking forth. She must 
not cry. She must be more pray- 
erful. It was hard to ask God to 
touch your own son's heart so 
that he wanted you. One could 
pray for protection for one's 
child, but it was hard to pray for 
— for his love. 

When a child is small he needs 
his parents. When he is grown, 
is such a need completely oblit- 
erated? Yet parents never out- 
grow the need to be needed. She 
had thought their visits were of 
mutual enjoyment. How blind 
she must have been. 

Fanny Carlsen felt the dear old 
chair putting comforting arms 
about her. She leaned back. It 
was last year's June, with June's 
gentleness. . . . 

"There's Tom's house now, 
Alex! Tom is coming out of the 
door and down the walk." 

"Now, Mother, wait until I get 
the jitney stopped before you get 

"Hello, Mother." Tom kissed 
her tenderly on the lips. 

"Sure is good to see you. Dad. 
Did the car make it OK?" Tom's 
arm went around his father's 

Then Barbara came out of the 
house. "Dad and Mother Carlsen, 
it's a happy day for us when you 
arrive. We have all looked for- 
ward to your company." 

Charlie, the youngest, bounced 
out of the house next, his black 
hair wild on his head. "Grand- 
ma! Grandpa?^ I've been watch- 
ing the road all day, until I had 
to empty the garbage and. ..." 

"Good little Green-Light Char- 
lie." Alex swooped him up in his 
arms. The special name for Char- 
lie was because he had so much 
go, Alex said. 

The screen door opened with a 
wham, spilling forth three more 
grandchildren who all swarmed 
about them with hugs and kisses. 

"Can you carry that little over- 
night bag for Grandma, Charlie? 
I'll take these two big suitcases." 

"Aw, let me carry two, Tom J. 
I'm big now." 

"We want you to have our bed- 
room. Grandma. Don't we, Char- 

"But where will you boys 

"Tom J. and I are sleeping in 
scout bags in the basement, and 
if it is real warm and nice. Mama 
said we might get to sleep out- 
side under the stars." 

"I hate for you boys to have 
to sleep outside." 

Charlie's eyes were like stars 
when he replied: "Gosh, Grand- 
ma, we like to do that!" 

Tom J. put the suitcases down 
in his room and turned to his 
Grandmother, "I hope that mo- 



saic tile plaque Fm working on 
doesn't bother you on the dress- 

''Tom J., your things won't 
bother us a mite. ..." 

Fanny's mind, like a jet plane 
in flight, traveled back to an- 
other summer when Susan and 
Carol had given up their room. 
They had said at the time they 
enjoyed sleeping on the daven- 
port in the family room. 

Perhaps she should suggest to 
Alex that they just stay home 
for their two weeks' vacation. 
But that wasn't such a good idea. 
If Alex were in town and some- 
thing went wrong at the plant, 
they would call him back to work. 
Alex needed to get away for 
awhile. Fanny's horizons seemed 
to be closing in on her. 

Promptly at five thirty-seven, 
Alex drove his car into the gar- 
age. A person could set her clock 
on Alex's comings and goings. As 
he came toward the house, Fanny 
studied his powerful face which 
the years had lined deeply. She 
saw, too, the wisdom and the 
mellowness in his eyes. She would 
hold the letter until after supper, 
unless, of course, Alex insisted. 

Alex showered, then came in 
and sat down at the table. Dinner 
was ready. Fanny was glad she 
had prepared things he liked es- 
pecially well. As he unfolded his 
napkin, Alex asked: 

''Any mail today?" 

"Yes, Alex, there was a short 
note from Tom." 

"What did he say?" 

"Fll get it for you." 

"Don't bother, it can wait until 
after supper." 

When the dishes were finished, 
and Alex was resting in his fa- 

vorite chair, Fanny handed him 
Tom's letter. She watched him as 
he read it, but his face showed no 
outward effects. Without com- 
ment, he picked up the paper 
and scanned it carefully, making 
an occasional comment regarding 
world problems. 

Fanny started crocheting. She 
was making a bedspread for Tom 
and Barbara for Christmas, and 
it took every moment of her spare 

Alex finished with the paper, 
folded it neatly and set it aside. 
He slumped down in his chair 
and sighed. "Glad to know Tom 
is so successful." 

"What do you mean, Alex?" 

"Must be doing pretty well, of- 
fering to put us up in a motel." 

Fanny wasn't in the mood to 
pass it off as a joke, yet she knew 
Alex had no malice. Alex was as 
Nathanael of old, a man without 

Alex considered the frugalness 
of words a virtue, so they held 

"Fanny, how would you like 
to take a fishing trip for a change 
this summer? Sam Oldroyd sug- 
gested we go to Yellowstone with 
Martha and him." 

"I guess we could, Alex, but 
we see them the year around. I 
get lonesome to see the children, 
but whatever you say, Alex." 

"It will do us both good to 
have a different vacation." 

Alex looked up, and for the 
first time, noticed the dress hang- 
ing on the door. 

"I see you made your new 
dress for the trip." 

"I just finished it today, Alex." 

"It will hardly do for a fish- 
ing trip, will it?" 

"No, it isn't at all suitable for 


APRIL 1966 

that. But I'll get a lot of use out 
of it, for years to come, actually." 

''Well, it's time for an old man 
to hit the hay. I had a hard day 
at the plant." 


''Goodness, who could be call- 
ing this time of night, Alex?" 

"I'll get it, Fanny." 

"Night letter for Mr. and Mrs. 
C arisen." 

"I'm Carlsen." 

"Sign here, please." 


Alex closed the door. 

"Fanny, here's a telegram. A 
night letter, I believe the mes- 
senger boy called it. It's from 

"I hope nothing is wrong." 

"Here, read it." 

"I wish you would, Alex." 

"Go ahead, Fanny." 

Alex withdrew the yellow sheet 
from the envelope and handed it 
to her. Fanny's voice trembled, 
and confusion spread a pink 
mantle across her face. 

Dear Folks: 

The pop music is so hectic around 
our house, I thought I would give you 
a treat of peacefulness at the motel 
across the street. But Barbara and 
the children vetoed the idea com- 
pletely at our regular weekly home 
evening. During our family council 
meeting, we decided to fix up the 
attic into a really nice room with bath 
special for you both. Things should be 
completed when you get here the 15th 
of June. 

I wanted to phone and tell you all 

about it, but Barbara remembered 
how Mother likes to keep important 
things in her Book of Remembrance, 
and thought you might like this 
night letter. 

We are all looking forward to seeing 

Love from all of us. 

Tom and Family. 

/-?f •■"•six [' > ^>: ■■ 

"Oh, Alex!" Fanny rushed to- 
ward him. Her cheek fitted 
against his chin. And it was the 
security of heaven to have his 
arms around her. Then Alex 
tipped her chin up and looked 
mischievously into her eyes. 

"Do you want me to accept 
Sam Oldroyd's offer to go fish- 

"Oh, Alex, I would lots rather 
go to Tom's, if you don't mind." 

"To Tom's it will be." Alex 
smiled broadly. 

The dim light made the mo- 
ment intimate, but Fanny stole 
a glance over Alex's shoulder at 
the new dress still hanging on the 

"It does have that certain 
sparkle!" Fanny was so glad she 
had made the dress for the trip. 


Annie Atkin Tanner 

Like winter birds in flight, 

The snow seemed suddenly to disappear. 

I looked up, a new green was on the hill. 

And in the garden, before my unbelieving eyes, 

Was a golden daffodil. 




Ramona W. Cannon 

Mrs. Indira Gandhi, forty-eight, widowed 
motiner of two sons, daughter of 
the late Jawaharlal Nehru, and long 
schooled in politics and government, 
on Wednesday, January 19, was elected 
Prime Minister of India. She served in 
the late Lai Bahadur Shastri's Cabinet, 
as Information and Broadcasting Man- 
ager. She was her father's closest 
confidante. The new Head of State 
faces many serious problems, includ- 
ing widespread famine conditions; con- 
tinued disputes with Pakistan over 
Kashmir; divisions of India's 480 mil- 
lion people along religious and sectional 
lines; and with the national economy 
in chaps. 

Miss Alice Crawford Johnston, Social 
Service Administrator of the Women's 
Voluntary Service of Great Britain, dur- 
ing her tour of the United States in 
January, visited Relief Society head- 
quarters in Salt Lake City, and, as a 
guest of the General Board, she visited 
Welfare Square, the Mormon Handicraft 
Shop, and Temple Square. She heard 
a Tabernacle organ recital, was intro- 
duced to the Church Indian Program, 
and other welfare services. Miss John- 
ston reported that over 500,000 women 
in Great Britain are active in voluntary 

Lydia Diaz, one of Puerto Rico's bril- 
liant and ambitious young women, is 
working her way through college as 
a visitor's guide at the University of 
Puerto Rico. This university has a total 
of 23,000 students. Puerto Rico has 
four other institutions of higher learn- 
ing and sixteen vocational schools, 
having, in all, a total of 37,000 stu- 
dents. Puerto Rico spends a larger pro- 
portion of its budget on education than 
any other country in the western world, 
including the United States. 

Miss Laura Bergqulst, a senior editor 
of Look Magazine, and an accredited 
White House correspondent, recently 
won the American Academy of Achieve- 
ment Golden Plate Award for her au- 
thentic and excellent reporting of 
Latin American affairs in 1965, and 
was also acclaimed winner of the New 
York Newspaper Guild Page One Award 
for Magazine photography in 1964. 

Miss Gertrude Hoffman, specialist in 
day care service. United States Chil- 
dren's Bureau, Washington, D.C., after 
making a long and detailed investiga- 
tion, reports that nearly a million chil- 
dren in the United States are left at 
home daily without adequate super- 
vision, while both parents are at work. 
This is more than a tenth of all children 
under fourteen years old whose moth- 
ers are absent from home during 
the day for gainful employment. "There 
is no way of measuring the emotional 
damage suffered by inadequately super- 
vised children, or the later cost in de 
linquency which results from this 
failure," she says. 

Mrs. Winthrop Rockefeller of Morrilton, 
Arkansas, was recently re-elected Pres- 
ident of the National Association for 
Mental Health, Inc. She has been active 
in the Association since 1959. In the 
past year she has visited nearly every 
State in the United States, addressing 
many division and chapter meetings. 

Dr. Marie Nyswander of the Rockefeller 
Institute, New York City, is receiving 
recognition and praise for her research 
on methods of combating the narcotic 
habit. In addition to new medical treat- 
ments being investigated. Dr. Nyswan- 
der uses social counseling in treating 



"The Flowers Appear on the Earth" 

■ When the season of blossoming returns, each winterbound woman 
rejoices in the coming of grass and flowers and new leaves and buds 
upon boughs long accustomed to an etching of the snow. One equinox 
brings the time of earth's renewal to the Northern Hemisphere, and 
another time of the earth's turning brings warmth and color and 
seedtime to the Southern Hemisphere. All who have known the dark- 
ness and the whiteness, the barren bough, and the mounded garden, 
turn their eyes toward a new season — perhaps to a hillside suddenly 
sprinkled with the earliest yellow blossoms, or to a protected place 
where the wild primroses open their pointed buds. A woman, on a 
springtime morning, may become an explorer in the domain of her 
own garden, a searcher for the first crocus and the earliest hyacinth. 
Even those who have known deep sorrow or illness or pain find a 
spiritual renewal when the earth appears in new apparel. 

Through the long ages, in every land, the woman who is devoted to 
making her home, indoors and outdoors, a place of beauty, has 
disciplined herself to appreciation of whatever natural beauty may be 
in her surroundings, and has become a specialist in the art of beautify- 
ing her home with some green and growing plant, or with some bulb 
or branch that may be induced to wear a crown of blossoms. 

Many women, by force of circumstances, must live in gray and 
barren places. One woman, desert-bound, became discontented and 
told her husband that she could no longer live in a place devoid of 
beauty. He reminded her of the quietness of the desert, the vast 
serenity, the evening shadows, and the coral mists of morning. But 
she was not satisfied. "Show me one beautiful flower," she said, "and 
I will stay." A few weeks later, they walked to a nearby hillside, and 
there a tall yucca, with a cone of yellow blossoms, graced the dark 
lava rocks. It was a lesson to the woman, and, ever afterwards, she 

• Belle S. Spafford, President 

• Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 

• Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 

• Hulda P. Young, Secretary-Treasurer 

looked for beauty in nature, and she made a pansy plot by the back 
door of her home, and a circle of petunias by the front steps. 

Another woman, whose circumstances demanded frequent changes 
in the homeplace, was a geranium fancier. She experimented with many 
varieties — fluted leaves, silver-bordered leaves; she rejoiced in pure 
white single blossoms, and in dark red blooms of imposing size and 
abiding fragrance. When each time of moving came, she carefully 
packed her geranium plants, and in each new home, after a period 
of special care and adjustment, the geraniums bloomed again, and 
the woman felt that she was at home. The feeling of contentment im- 
bued her family, and they all rejoiced in the belief that home is where 
the flowers are. 

Small girls in the home may become delighted with the floral king- 
dom by exercising ownership and responsibility for a houseplant that 
responds to regular care and the loving touch. One mother allocated 
a small parcel of the garden plot to each of her young daughters. The 
eldest planted a circle of dwarf marigolds, bordered with a rim of red 
lettuce. The planning of the small garden was an adventure; there was 
mystery in the feel and the shape of the seeds; the first sprouts were 
symbols of perfection; and the yellow flowers, eventually appearing, 
seemed even more radiant against the crinkled, dark red lettuce leaves. 
It was the girl's own beautiful, delightful garden; and years later, when 
more sophisticated landscaping appealed to the grown woman, she 
still remembered with a feeling of great joy, a childhood appointment 
with springtime. 

Much of earth's sorrow and disappointment can be lessened by an 
appreciation of opportunities to establish a degree of beauty in a 
woman's domain — the home — inside and out. 

— V.P.C. 

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 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 

EIna P. Haymond 
Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhall 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Resell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 
Irene W. Buehner 

azel S. Lc 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Irene C. Lloyd 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva B. Ashton 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darlene C. Dedekind 

ione R. Eccles 
Edythe K. Watson 
Ellen N. Barnes 
Kathryn S. Gilbert 
Verda F. Burton 
Myrtle R. Olson 
Alice C. Smith 
Lucile P. Peterson 
Elaine B. Curtis 


If so, please notify The Relief Society Magazine office, 76 North Main Street, 
Salt Lake City, Utah 84111, four weeks in advance, what your new address will 
be. Be sure to include your old address, or send the address label from one of 
your magazines. The Post Office does not forward copies of the Magazine without 
charging additional postage, but the Magazine office will send the Magazine to 
you without interruption, if you promptly notify them of your move. 



Christie Lund Coles 

Let peace fall upon me 
Gently as first snow, 
Making a down-dipped night. 
Let me not doubt, but know. 

Let me envision shade and sun 
As my hands grow still, 
Calm as a lost midnight 
Moon above the hill. 

Let me recall briefly 
A summer morning, cool, 
As dew and quiet water 
In an amber pool. 

Let me sleep as a child 
After ecstatic play, 
Losing the blinding glare 
Of the dream-stilled day. 

Let me relive moments 
Where stream-waters pass, 
Caressing the brown rocks, 
And the spear-pointed grass. 

It is a simple thing to ask, 
A simple promise, Lord, to keep. 
Saying the words in quiet prayer: 
"Father in heaven, let me sleep.' 


to the 




Chairman, 1966 Crusade, 
American Cancer Society, Inc. 

■ It has been well said that the first thing to save for your old age is 
you. A generation ago, the concepts of hope and cancer were mutually 
exclusive. Today, the climate has changed — the climate is hope. 

The American Cancer Society has announced a stepped-up five-year 
attack on the six major forms of cancer which cause forty-eight per 
cent of cancer deaths in this country. Althought many of these cancers 
are being cured, many more could be cured, a Society spokesman said, 
if cancers of the six sites were detected early and properly treated. 
The six sites are the uterus, colon and rectum, breasts, mouth, lungs, 
and skin. 

In uterine cancer, the painless, inexpensive "Pap" test can detect 
the disease before it can be seen. If the disease is treated at this 
stage, the percentage of cure approaches 100 per cent. Some women 
whose cancers have been detected this early have been cured and have 
borne children after their cure. 

About seventy-five to eighty per cent of localized colon and rectum 
cancer can be detected by a doctor in an office examination with a 
proctoscope — a slim, lighted tube. A large percentage of these cancers 
can be cured, and disability prevented, through regular examination. 

Breast cancer is the most common form of the disease in women. 
But women themselves can help find it early enough for cure through 
monthly self-examination — which they can learn from an American 
Cancer Society film — or from their own doctor. 

An estimated eighty per cent of lung cancer is caused by cigarette 
smoking. Thus, some 35,000 lives a year could be saved if Americans 
did not smoke cigarettes. The American Cancer Society urges teen- 
agers not to start smoking — for the habit, started early, is difficult 
to break later in life. 

The percentage of cure of mouth, tongue and other cancers in the 
mouth could be raised through regular cancer detection examination 
and proper treatment when cancer is found. 

Most skin cancer is caused by excessive exposure to sunlight. In- 
cidence of skin cancer could be reduced sharply, if people would pro- 
tect themselves from this avoidable hazard. 

While concentrating its attack on these six sites, the Society is, at 
the same time, planning large increases in research expenditures to 
find further causes and cures of cancer. Its ultimate purpose is erad- 
icating all forms of cancer. 



"He won fifty dollars. 

Birthday Present for Amy 

Mary Ek Knowles 

■ It was two days before her 
birthday when Amy Barkdall saw 
the sign tacked on the red brick 
house. She was trudging up the 
steep hill, pulling her two small 
boys in a wagon. The sign said: 


Amy stopped. She was a tall, 
slender girl with winged eyebrows 
and wavy brown hair. She had a 
large bag of laundry slung over 
her shoulder. She felt a tremor 
of excitement. / want that washer 
for my birthday. Then the excite- 
ment died. Jeff still had two 
years of college. 

She was about to walk on and 
then the events of the morning at 
the laundromat came back to her. 
Four-year-old Chris and the Pal- 
mer boy had got in a fight. Three- 
year-old Mike had fallen and 

bumped his head. She thought 
desperately, I cannot go through 
another such morning. It wouldn't 
hurt to look. She knocked on the 
back door. After a moment the 
door opened and a woman stood 
there. She had a pretty middle- 
aged face, but she looked so sad 
that Amy's throat tightened. 

Amy said, "I'm Mrs. BarkdaU. 
Could I please see the washer?" 

"You're the first prospect," the 
woman smiled. "It's in the base- 

Amy helped the boys down the 
stairs. It was a full-length base- 
ment with a rubber tiled floor. In 
the doorway to the large laundry 
room the woman paused. "I'll sell 
it for fifty dollars." 

Amy looked at the washer and 
excitement made her tremble. It 



was a sturdy white washer, with 
a large-sized tub and a wringer of 
fat rubber rollers. Amy gasped, 
"Why, it looks new." 

"It's only eight years old. A 
month ago my husband bought 
me an automatic washer and 
dryer. But I really don't even 
need that now. ..." She bit her 
lip and tears flooded her eyes. 
"Would you like to buy it?" 

"It's a marvelous bargain." 
Amy felt almost ill with longing. 
"But my husband's a student and 
. . . well, you know how it is." 

"You bet I do." The woman 
smiled softly. "Mr. Kincaid was 
in the building business, and we 
had such a struggle at first. Even 
buying a pair of shoes took close 

Amy heard a crash and turned. 
Mike had dumped over a basket 
of clothes pins. He sobbed for- 

"Don't scold him." Mrs. Kin- 
caid picked him up, and soothed, 
"There now, fellow, don't cry." 

The tears stopped and 
Mike flirted outrageously. Amy 
thought, with quick repentance, 
I'm so tired, I'm an old grouch 
with my babies. 

Mrs. Kincaid laughed softly. "I 
had four boys of my own, such 
noisy, adorable Httle boys." She 
held Mike tighter. "They're all 
grown and moved away now." 
There was an awkward silence, 
and Mrs Kincaid said. "If I re- 
duced the price of the washer to 
thirty-five dollars, maybe. . . ." 

"Thank you, but I couldn't 
even manage then. Come boys," 
she said quickly. Another second 
and she would be crying. 

She started up the hill again, 
pulling the boys, and the bag of 
washing seemed heavier. Resent- 

ment within Amy flared. In the 
beginning Jeff had taken the 
clothes to the laundromat in the 
evening and studied between 
tubsful, but he couldn't take 
enough books for reference, so 
he had tended the boys while she 
went to the laundromat. Now he 
didn't even do that. 

Only thirty -five dollars. If only 
they could manage it somehow. 
But in her mind's eye. Amy saw 
the next two years in an all-en- 
compassing flash. There wouldn't 
be one spare dollar. 

For a moment Amy wallowed 
in self-pity. Twice a week she had 
to tote the laundry up the hill. 
Her problems weren't even im- 
portant to Jeff anymore, and he 
had been in an indifferent mood 
when he left that morning. 

She reached University Village 
and paused, feeling, even in her 
depressed state, a moment of 
gratitude that their apartment 
was on the first floor. The first 
year they had lived on the third 
floor of the converted army 

As Amy opened the door of 
I- A, the door down the hall 
opened, and Sally Stoddard 
stuck her head out. "What time 
do you want me tonight. Amy?" 
Sally's husband, Allan, was a 
medical student, and Sally 
swelled the family treasury by 

Amy remembered that tonight 
was the lecture at the home of 
Professor Hopfield. This morning 
she had looked forward to the 
event and had made a wide cum- 
merbund of crimson velvet to 
wear with her black velvet quilted 
skirt and white blouse. There 
would be interesting people, and 


APRIL 1966 

Mrs. Hopfield made such good 
apple pie. 

She thought, I'm not going; 
but she knew she couldn't ask 
Jeff to stay home. "We'll leave 
at 7:45, Sally." 

Amy opened the door and the 
clutter of the rooms hit her. This 
morning she had been proud of 
their small apartment. They had 
painted old furniture turquoise, 
dyed white muslin sheets scarlet, 
put an array of brightly colored 
bottles on shelves in the windows. 
But now it looked shabby and 
makeshift. How am I going to 
stand another two years of just 
existing? she thought wildly. 

She fed the boys and put them 
down for naps. She hung the 
washing on lines placed close 
together and stretched the length 
of the hall, hanging the small 
things at one end, so there was 
an arched passageway into the 

She was stirring tomato sauce 
that evening when she heard 
Jeff's whistle. She thought, 
''Thank heavens his black mood 
is past." He came in, a tall lanky 
man with auburn hair. He kissed 
her, and she felt happy and 
breathless and loved. She saw a 
glow in Jeff's eyes as if a light 
was turned on inside him. ''Jeff, 
something wonderful has hap- 

"Sure," he said innocently, 
"the day after tomorrow is your 

The two boys came running to 
pull Jeff into the livin*^ ^^om. 
She heard them laughmg and 
scuffling. Jeff was in a rare good 
humor. Maybe it wouldn't hurt 
just to mention the washer. She 
hurried into the living room. 
"Jeff . . ." and stopped. The 

Engineer's Magazine had come 
today. Jeff was lost to her and 
Chris and Mike. 

There was a good crowd all 
laughing and talking when they 
reached Professor Hopfield's, and 
Amy tried to lift her spirits to a 
party mood, but she still felt blue 
and depressed. Mrs Hopfield 
came up to her. She was a small, 
thin woman in a blue crepe dress. 
Amy smiled, "Hello, Mrs Hop- 
field. How are you?" 

And Mrs Hopfield said, "I'm 
glad you like me in blue, dear." 
Amy wanted to weep. Mrs. Hop- 
field had forgotten her hearing 
aid again. 

The speaker. Dr. Bromly, had 
a voice that stayed dangerously 
in the middle register. Amy tried 
not to listen too intently. She 
gazed fondly at Professor Hop- 
field and thought he looked like 
an elderly Spitz dog, with his 
fuzzy white hair. But now the 
speaker's low voice reached her, 
soothing, somnolent. Jeff shook 
her, whispering angrily. "You 
were snoring, Amy." 

Tears stung her eyes. She 
thought, darn it, darn it, I'm 
tired. When the speaker finally 
finished winding his words into 
a soft woollen ball, Amy fled to 
the kitchen to help Mrs. Hop- 
field, "Would you like me to cut 
the pie?" she asked. 

"No thanks, dear, I'll pass the 
napkins and you cut the pie." 

Amy was cutting apple pie 
when Professor Hopfield came in, 
his face wreathed with smiles. 
"Aren't you proud of Jeff?" 

"Why yes, I. . . ." she stam- 

"Winning first prize in. . . ." 

"In what?" she demanded. 

"Oh, dear, he hasn't told you." 



Professor Hopfield looked dis- 

"Fll bet he's keeping it for a 
birthday surprise. Please tell 

''He won fifty dollars for his 
article submitted to the Engi- 
neer's Quarterly Contest.'' 

Fifty dollars. More than 
enough for the washer! ''Oh, I'm 
so thrilled." 

"You won't tell him I told 

"Not a word. I promise." 

On the walk home she gave 
Jeff an amusing account of the 
morning's activities. Deftly she 
slipped in the information about 
the washer. She glanced up to 
see Jeff staring ahead absorbed 
in thought and her heart plum- 
meted. Then he said, "Sounds 
like a good buy." 

Amy's heart thudded against 
her ribs. "It's for sale at the red 
brick house up from the laundro- 

"The one with the wide 

"Yes, that's the one." 

Jeff began to hum "Happy 
Birthday to You." His step 
quickened as if he had made up 
his mind about something. 

That night she could not sleep. 
Where would she put the washer? 
She remembered the large clothes 
closet. She got quietly out of bed 
and measured it with a yard- 
stick. Bless the architect! The 
closet was almost as large as the 

Next morning she awakened 
with a start. Jeff wasn't through 
classes and lab until after one. 
As soon as he had gone to school 
she asked Sally, "Please would 
you be an angel and watch the 

boys for about half an hour?" 

"Of course. Amy." 

She ran down the hill. If the 
washer was sold she would slump 
down dead on Mrs. Kincaid's 
back porch. But the sign was still 
there. Mrs. Kincaid smiled when 
she saw her. "You've come for 
the washer!" 

She explained about the prize 
money. "I let Jeff know about 
the washer, and how much I want 
it and he'll be here today, but he 
isn't through classes until after 
one. Oh, please could you. . .?" 

"There was another woman 
coming to look at it, but I won't 
be back from a Singing Mothers' 
practice until noon. I won't sell 
the washer, I promise." 

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" 

It was 6:15 when Sally told 
her, "Allan just telephoned to say 
he was going somewhere with Jeff 
and they would be late." 

But of course! Amy thought. 
Allan has a trailer. He will help 
Jeff bring the washer home. "Oh, 
Sally," Amy cried. "Aren't hus- 
bands a wonderful invention? I'm 
glad I'm married to mine for time 
and all eternity!" 

"What has happened?" Sally 

Amy almost told her about the 
washer and then decided against 
it. She wouldn't spoil Jeff's sur- 
prise. "Oh, nothing, except that 
tomorrow is my birthday, and I 
still believe in miracles." 

When Jeff came home he was 
like a small boy trying to keep 
a secret. As she drifted off to 
sleep that night she wondered, 
when will Allan and Jeff bring 
the washer in? Then she thought, 
I'm sure they have that all fig- 
ured out, and fell asleep. 

The next thing she knew Jeff 


was shaking her and saying: 
''Happy Birthday, Sweetheart," 
and the boys were saying, ''Get 
up. Mommy." 

She jumped out of bed in her 
red pajamas. She reached the 
door, ready to shout, "Oh, you 
darhng, you bought the washer!" 
There was no washer in the room, 
but on the kitchen table was a 
large oblong box. For a moment, 
disappointment stabbed so sharp- 
ly she almost moaned with pain, 
and then Jeff grabbed the box 
and handed it to her. 

It looked like a package from 
an exclusive woman's dress shop. 
A horrible thought darted into 
her mind but she tried to push it 

"Honey," Jeff explained, "I 
won a fifty-dollar prize for an 
article in the Engineer's Quarter- 

"How wonderful, Jeff!" 

"And I bought something for 
you I've always wanted you to 
have." He was almost bursting 
with excitement. Amy placed the 
box on the kitchen table. With 
trembling hands, she untied the 
string. Inside was a tissue 
wrapped package tied with silver 
ribbon. The beat of her heart 
slowed and stopped. Oh, Jeff, you 
wouldn't ... no Jeff. ... 

Finally she parted the tissue 
paper. She saw pale blue nylon 
net, pale blue satin. She lifted out 
a net negligee, an exquisite satin 
nightgown. She gasped, "Oh, 
Jeff!" She wanted to cry, this 
useless finery. How could you be 
so stupid! And then she heard 
his boyish, proud laugh. "Do you 
like it, sweetheart?" and the 
angry words stuck in her throat. 
She could only throw her arms 
around his neck and sob, "Jeff, 

"Don't cry, darling," he said 
gently. "I know you've always 
wanted something like this, and 
someday I'll buy you all the other 
things that go with them." 

There was a bang on the door 
and Allan's voice, "Sally is fry- 
ing pancakes for a birthday girl. 
Come have some." 

Jeff said, "We'll be right 

Amy said, "You go and help 
Allan set up the card tables. I'll 
dress the boys and come." She 
had to get control of herself. 
After he had gone. Amy stood 
holding the nightgown in her 
hands, tears running down her 
cheeks. Chris pulled at her skirt. 
"Mommy crying. . . .?" 

"Yes, I'm howling!" 

"I'll tell you what I'm going to 
do. Monday your Mommy is 
going to return this - - this 
frippery, and get the money back 
and " 

"Oh, don't do that, child!" 

Amy swung around to see Mrs. 
Kincaid standing in the doorway. 
"I came to see why your husband 
didn't call about the washer, the 
door was open. . . ." 

"My husband didn't call for 
the washer because he spent his 



prize money on . . . this! He' needs 
a suit, the boys need shoes." 

"I know, dear." Mrs. Kincaid 
said sympathetically, "husbands 
can be very exasperating." 

"He buries his nose in his 
books and he doesn't even see my 
problems. Sure, be a good sport, 
help him get his degree. Well, Fm 
going to tell him a few facts 
about my life!" 

"Don't make a mistake!" Mrs. 
Kincaid said sharply. "I did that 
years ago. Sam gave me an expen- 
sive quilted robe for Christmas. I 
told him plenty!" her voice 
faltered and then hurried on. "I 
warned him never to do such a 
silly thing again. I took the robe 
back, and with the money I 
bought shoes and house dresses 
and a heavy iron skillet." 

Mrs. Kincaid walked over to 
the table and held up the sheer 
negligee. "I hurt his pride so 
terribly that he never gave me 
anything frivolous again. Two 
weeks ago he died and. . . ." 
Tears ran down the older wom- 
an's cheeks. "I wish I had under- 
stood then that men are the most 
romantic creatures in the world. 
They like to believe they possess 
a woman so helpless and fragile 
that she must be wrapped in sa- 
tin and furs. This period of 
scrimping and struggling will 
pass, and your husband will be 
a success, but when it is over, 
will he still see you as his beauti- 

ful and precious queen he took 
to the temple?" 

Amy looked at the froth of 
nylon and knew that Jeff didn't 
see her at all in terms of diapers 
and washers. She prayed, oh, let 
me always walk with beauty in 
his eyes. She said, "Thank you 
for telling me all this, Mrs. Kin- 

"Why don't you come to my 
house and use my new automatic 
washer and dryer, Mrs. Barkdall? 
If you wish, you may pay me the 
same amount you pay at the 
Laundromat. There are boxes of 
toys that belonged to my chil- 
dren. Oh, I would so enjoy hav- 
ing your babies around." The 
loneliness in her voice caught at 
Amy's throat. 

She said, "Thank you, Mrs. 
Kincaid. I'll be there at ten day 
after tomorrow." 

After the older woman had 
gone. Amy leaned against the 
table, looked around, and her 
world righted itself. It was a gay, 
smart apartment with lots of per- 
sonality and hadn't they been 
clever to do it all so cheaply! 

This was her birthday and the 
Sabbath. Her heart quickened 
with anticipation. They would 
have breakfast with their friends, 
and they would walk to Sunday 
School with their little boys. 
They would smile at each other, 
two people, a man and his wife, 
still very much in love! 


Pearle M. Olsen 

Expected beauties warm our ready hearts 

With things familiar in spring's lavish days 

Of blossoming in bridal finery — 

The drifting petals, choirs of lilting birds — 

And bees in winged ballet 

Give us delight — in bountiful degree! 



Blanche Kendall McKey 

There was an April once so rich with gold — 

The sun, the dandelion carpet, and the tulip heads — 

That children ran and leapt and threw their balls 

Above the hilltops into the deep, deep blue 

And squealed as they came bouncing back to earth. 

They tossed the littlest child so high in the swing 

That her small toes touched an overhanging bough, 

Ravishingly pink and green, and fragrant beyond 

Any other perfume she had ever known. They raced 

And laughed, and fell upon the tender grass for breath. 

So wildly throbbed their sun-borne April joy! 

And now, as through the years, sweet April walks again, 

Her shy face almost hidden by her gleaming hair. 

As her green robe sweeps the brown, lilies spring, 

The magnolia bursts and the white dogwood. 

With its reminding cross, cups to the sky. 

Azaleas, lavender, cerise, and pink, riot 

For room to reach the sun. And slowly, bit by bit, 

The long climb lives again: the laughing and the weeping; 

The faces changed; the faces here no more; 

The wrestling with "Must," the never answered "Why?" 

Yet gently breathes the lilac-scented air^ J^ 

Some things there are that never change — ^^^ 

The hawthorne bush, its pink buds wrapped in green;^^***^^ 

The upward straining of a yearning heart; 

No petal lost; no bird song stilled for long. 

And In a flash, the struggle shines with purpose; 

The anguish shapes to wisdom. How gently 

Sifts to earth this April peace! 

APnE tiOSiOMi Lu««n«i Pti*»M 

"Lonk Moni: Oiii; 
Hunilrcil Dalliirs " 

Helen H. Trutton 

■ The screen door slammed shut 
with a loud bang, rapid little foot- 
steps echoed down the hall, and 
Loren stood looking up at her, 
his brilliant dark eyes flashing 
with excitement. 

*'Mom, Mom, guess what?" he 
yelled. ''See what I found. I 
think it's a hundred dollar bill, 
and it's all mine, 'cause I found 
it. It is, isn't it?" 

Faye stared down at him from 
her perch atop the ladder, and let 
the curtain she had been trying 
to hang float mutely to the floor. 
''You found a — hundred dollars?'' 
she asked incredibly, reaching out 
her hand. "Here, let me see it." 

She took the crisp bill in her 
hands and turned it over several 
times. "It is, or looks genuine all 
right, but where did you get it?" 

"By the Harris Grocery Store, 
lying by the curb. It is mine, isn't 
it. Mom? Finders keepers! Rich- 
ard kept my best marble once be- 
cause he found it." 

She watched him disappear 
around the door, without waiting 
for her answer, and return a mo- 
ment later carrying a catalogue. 
"I can buy a bicycle now." He 
bubbled over with enthusiasm. 
"When I'm a little older, I can 
have a paper route. We could 
sure use the money. Mom." 

"Hold on a second, honey," 
she said, hurrying down the lad- 
der steps. "We have to find the 
owner. It isn't yours you know. 
The person who lost it must feel 

The stars left Loren's eyes. "I 
— I guess that's more money than 
we've ever had, except maybe 
when Daddy was alive." 

Faye squeezed him tightly 
against her. "We would be in 
rather serious circumstances if 
we lost that much. One hundred 
dollars is a lot of money. We 
might check with Mr. Harris. . . ." 

"I already asked him if any- 
body in his store lost anything. 
It was almost on his property." 

"What did he say?" 

"He said, 'No, not that I know 
of — so guess it's finders keepers, 
losers weepers, son.' He said 

"But we still have " 

"But anyone might say it be- 
longed to them," Loren pro- 
tested. "How can we find the real 
owner? Oh, Mom," he cried 
suddenly, letting his body sag 
against her, "I need a bicycle. I 
could " 


APRIL 1966 

"I know, my son," she said, 
cradling him tenderly in her arms. 
Then she wiped the hot tears 
from his cheeks, and smiled down 
at him. "We'll report it to the 
police. Whoever lost the money 
will naturally check with them 
first off." 

Loren blinked away one last 
stubborn teardrop, his eyes 
brightened. "And if the owner 
doesn't show up?" 

"Don't build up your hopes, 
dear," she said. "I'll call Sergeant 
Thomas right now." She moved 
away from him, and stepped into 
the living room. She stopped at 
the window, suddenly caught up 
in the enchantment of the lovely 
scene outside. The gnarled old 
elm tree was dressed in its new 
spring finery, such an impressive 
sight. Dennis always used to in- 
sist she had fallen in love with 
the place simply on the strength 
of the old elm tree. The day they 
had signed the contract to buy 
the house, they had engraved 
their names on the trunk of the 
tree like two young lovers. Oh, 
they were so gay and full of hopes 
and dreams then. Now it seemed 
a million years ago. Unconscious- 
ly, she ran her slim fingers through 
her attractively coiffured black 

Today was Saturday, the day 
she and Dennis always spent 
working in the yard. When they 
were finished with the day's labor, 
they would sit under the big 
sprawling branches of the elm 
tree and talk over any problems 
that needed solving. Dennis used 
to say, "Then we can start Sun- 
day out fresh." If only the three 
of them could gather around the 
tree in their old familiar places 
now, Dennis could help Loren 

understand why he could not 
keep the money just bcause he 
had found it. He had such a way 
with him, like the letters he had 
left. . . . 

"Mom!" Loren's accusing voice 
startled her. "You haven't even 
called the police yet." 

"Oh, dear." She flushed. "I 
haven't, have I?" She started to 
pick up the receiver, then let it 
fall back on the cradle. "Why not 
go down to the station?" she 
asked. "We could leave the money 

"I hope I get to keep the bill, 
Mom," he said solemnly. "Maybe 
a real rich man lost it, and he'll 
never miss it. I've an idea, we 
could wait to see if someone 
misses it, and puts an ad in the 
paper. What do you think, 

Faye reached out, and took his 
hand firmly in hers. "Son, we 
have to exhaust every means of 
locating the rightful owner. You 
do understand that, don't you? It 
would be terribly dishonest to 
just wait, hoping no one adver- 

"It would?" he asked. 

"Yes," she said. "That would 
be taking advantage of someone's 
misfortune." She hesitated a 
moment, then turned to him. 
"Do you mind if I read you the 
letter Daddy left for your eighth 
birthday again?" she asked. "It 
might. . . ." 

Loren looked eagerly at her, 
his face flushing slightly as he 
moved to her side. "Dad's sure 
smart isn't he. Mom? I can 
hardly wait until my next birth- 
day to get another one." 

"Yes, very. Now, would you 
like. . . .?" 

"I'll get the letter," he said, 
disappearing around the hallway 



entrance. "I know exactly where 
I keep it." 

Faye sank down upon the 
davenport. She didn't blame her 
son for being excited at finding 
a hundred dollars; any child just 
turned eight would be quite as 
thrilled. But still she couldn't 
help from feeling a little dis- 
appointed, too. He had seemed 
content with the philosophy of 
'^finders keepers," with no con- 
cern for the loser. Or was she 
being too critical? Of course he 
would understand when they 
found the owner. Children usually 
had to see the evidence to iden- 
tify their feelings, and the person 
who had lost the money was al- 
most intangible in his mind. 
Loren was barely eight. 

She looked up when he darted 
back into the room, and snuggled 
up against her on the davenport. 
"Here you are. Mom," he said 
handing her the envelope. ''I'm 

She took the letter from his 
hands, and read in a low voice. 

Dearest Son: 

Today you are eight years old, a 
very important year in your life. You 
will have reached the age of accounta- 
bility. We talked many times about 
what it means, and you've learned of 
it in Sunday School and Primary. It's 
a great privilege to go into the waters 
of baptism, son, but it will also mean 
more resj)onsibility for you. Be a good, 
honest boy, and you'll grow up to be a 
real fine man. Watch over Mother, 
mind her, and others over you. Be 
hai:)py the two of you, I love you both 
so much. 

Love, Dafl. 

Loren took the letter from her 
trembling hands. "Every year I'll 
get a letter from Daddy until I'm 
how old?" he asked. 


"I don't ever want to get past 

twenty-one," he said, close to 
tears. "Never!" 

Faye stood up and caught his 
hand in hers. "We'd better get 
down to the station. Maybe the 
person is there already. We 
wouldn't want to keep him wait- 
ing, now would we?" 

He looked at the opened cata- 
logue. "No, Mom, I guess not." 

Poor child, she thought, with 
his vivid little imagination, he 
undoubtedly spent the hundred 
dollars five minutes after he found 
it. One of these days when she 
could see her way clear, Loren 
would have a bicycle of his own. 
Right now other things had to 
come first, like bills. Almost 
every other boy in the neighbor- 
hood owned a bicycle. 

She draped a shawl over her 
shoulders and picked up her 
purse. "It's such a delightfully 
warm spring day," she said, 
"shall we walk to the station? It 
isn't far, hardly worth getting the 
car out of the garage." 

"Sure, let's do," he answered. 
"I can hold the money longer." 

"I hope the owner hasn't been 
too inconvenienced," she said, 
hurrying down the steps. "I can 
imagine his concern." 

Loren did not answer, but 
amused himself by petting every 
friendly dog that bounced down 
the sidewalks from the houses 
they passed. Once he stopped and 
watched a robin tug with an un- 
cooperative worm who apparently 
had no desire to be devoured, and 
he laughed gleefully. Then he 
sobered, and looked up at her 
thoughtfully. "Who said, 'losers 
weepers, finders keepers,' any- 
way, Mom?" 

She stopped. "I don't know, 


APRIL 1966 

"Doesn't it mean whoever finds 
something keeps it?" 

"I suppose it means that if the 
finder can't locate the owner, the 
loser would weep over it, depend- 
ing on what was lost. But you 
have to try and find the loser — 
that's important." 

"Not everyone tries, though, do 

"If he or she wants to do the 
right thing, they do." 

"Does it depend on what you 
find? If I found ten dollars in- 
stead of one hundred. . .?" 

"The amount isn't important. 
We'd still have to report the 

"Oh," he said, and they walked 
the rest of the way to the station 
without speaking. Often she 
glanced down at him. He was 
such a precious miniature image 
of his father. He was too young 
to realize the effort that went 
into that letter and all the others 
Dennis had written in the final 
days of his illness. Nor could he 
begin to understand the love that 
was contained in each one of 
them, but someday he would. 

Sergeant Thomas glanced up 
from his desk when they entered 
the room, and motioned them 
over to his side, with a quizzical 
smile. "Now what would be bring- 
ing my neighbors to the station?" 
lie asked, and then his smile 
turned to concern. "Is there any- 
thing wrong?" 

Loren didn't wait for her to 
speak, but swung up to the desk 
and laid the hundred dollar bill 
near Sergeant Thomas' hand. "I 
found this," he said, pointing to 
the money, "over by the Harris 
Grocery Store by the curb, and 
Mom says finders aren't keepers 
until we see if we can find the 
real owner." 

"Have you had any inquiries?" 
Faye asked the startled police- 
man. "He just found it today." 

He gave a low whistle, and 
turned the bill over in his hands. 
''One hundred dollars'? That's a 
lot of money to lose. No, not a 
soul has reported the loss yet." 

"How long?" Loren began .... 

The Sergeant interrupted. 
"Probably just a few hours, may- 
be less before the owner misses 
it. Not too many folks around 
here are so wealthy they wouldn't 
discover a shortage like that." 

"You do have a waiting 
period don't you?" Faye asked. 
"The loss may not be noticed 

"Yes, a week, on some items, 
but on something this important, 
I expect we should hold it thirty 
days. You know, someone might 
have tucked the bill away in his 
billfold, and not look for it in 

"That long?" Loren exclaimed. 

"I'm afraid so," Sergeant 
Thomas replied. "We do want to 
give the loser every opportunity, 
don't we?" 

Loren ducked his head. "Yes, 

The kindly policeman walked 
to the door with them, holding 
Loren's hand. "We appreciate 
people like you," he said, smiling 
at Faye, and then bending down 
to Loren, he slipped his arm 
around his shoulder. "Thanks, 
son. You're going to be a fine man 
just like your father." 

Loren tore his gaze away from 
a young boy riding by on a 
bicycle, and swallowed. "Every 
year I'll get a letter from Dad 
until I'm twenty-one." 

"And each one you'll appreci- 
ate more," he answered. "Oh, 
Loren, I'll let you know just as 



soon as we hear about the money." 

"Can — may I call you every 
day, too?" 

Sergeant Thomas laughed. ''Of 
course, as often as you like. Good- 

They hurried home. It was all 
she could do to keep up with her 
young son. 'T've got to be home 
to answer the telephone when 
Sergeant Thomas calls," he 
explained his haste. "Oh, Mom, if 
he dosen't call?" 

"But surely he will. Don't 
dream about spending the money, 
dear. One of these days, we'll buy 
you a bicycle." 

"When?" he asked eagerly. 

"I expect by the time you are 
ready for a paper route." 

LoREN rushed ahead of her into 
the house, and darted over to the 
telephone. "Fll call the station," 
he said, "in case Sergeant Thomas 
has tried to get me." 

Faye laughed in spite of the 
serious little face before her. "No, 
no, not so soon. He'll call. I 
doubt if you'll have to wait long." 

But she was wrong. One day 
passed, followed by another, 
with no news. And now just one 
week of waiting was left. She 
leaned back in her chair at the 
breakfast table wondering about 
it. Maybe they weren't doing all 
they could. It was possible he or 
she hadn't thought of checking 
with the police. She touched 
Loren's hand across the table. 
"Son," she said, "we could adver- 
tise. We could say something like 
this : 'Will person who lost money 
recently, contact police station, 
identifying same?' What do you 

He didn't answer for a long 
while. Finally he said, "O.K., 

The last few days were the 
worst it seemed to her. Sergeant 
Thomas agreed to the advertise- 
ment. Nothing new happened 
except Loren became more ex- 
cited, his appetite waned, his 
sleep was restless. 

It isn't fair, she thought, to put 
a youngster through such suspen- 
sion. That saying should be 
"finders weepers." Her household 
had suffered more than the loser, 
or so it appeared. 

At last, the time was up. Ser- 
geant Thomas called early the 
next morning, after the final date, 
in a cheerful mood. "Tell Loren 
he has complied with the law; 
he's the legal owner." 

She thanked him. "I do feel 
badly. Sergeant," she said. "I 
was in hopes. ..." 

"We all were. Will you be 
down soon?" 

"Yes," she answered, "Loren 
will be anxious." 

Soon the two of them were 
walking down the familiar street 
to the station. Loren was unusu- 
ally quiet. She couldn't read his 
mind, of course, but she supposed 
he was overwhelmed at receiv- 
ing so much money, and she 
hoped he was thinking of the un- 
fortunate loser. 

But, child that he was, his 
enthusiasm suddenly skyrocketed 
as they entered the station and 
he caught sight of Sergeant 
Thomas. He dashed unrestrained 
to his side, and exclaimed happily, 
"I can buy a new bicycle now. 
Sergeant, and Mom can have the 
rest of the money." 

The policeman frowned, looked 
from a man sitting at his left, to 
Loren, and then to her. "I . . .1," 
he b€gan, "last night ended the 
waiting period, but. . . ." 


APRIL 1966 

Faye looked at the other man. 
"The money belongs to him, is 
that it?" she asked. 

Sergeant Thomas cleared his 
throat. "Yes, but I don't know. 
He came by a little too late. 
Legally " 

Faye faced the man. "Why?" 
she pleaded, "why didn't you 
come forward long ago? Why did 
you have to cause my boy all this 
anxiety?" She put her hand over 
her face a moment. Hadn't she 
been praying the rightful owner 
would appear? "Forgive me, Sir," 
she said calmly now. "It's just 
that we've been under strain." 

"I'm sure you have, Ma'am, 
I'm sorry," he said, standing up 
and indicating that she sit in the 
chair he had occupied. "I missed 
the money right off, but I 
thought my friend had taken it." 
He sighed deeply. "I was too 
hurt to ask him, and then this 
morning, I noticed the ad." He 
walked toward the door. "Thank 
you for putting that notice in 
the paper. I would never have 

"It's yours," Faye said quickly. 

His eyes brightened for an in- 
stant, then he shrugged. "Legal- 
ly, I think it belongs to your 

Everyone looked at Loren. 
Faye put her hand to her mouth 
to stifle a cry. He was just a 
child, barely out of the stage of 
me being the only one who 
mattered. He couldn't p'ossibly 
make a right choice at his age — 
the temptation was too great. It 
wasn't fair. . . . Quickly she arose 
to her feet in protest, but 
Sergeant Thomas motioned her 
to be quiet. 

"What's your opinion, Loren?" 
the officer asked. 

He didn't answer immediately. 
She wondered if he had heard 
him. Maybe he was in shock; she 
knew such things were possible. 
Finally, after what seemed an 
eternity to her, he took the 
money, and handed it to the 
man. "I'm sure glad your friend 
wasn't a thief," he said thought- 
fully. "That would be terrible!" 

"Thank you, boy, thank you," 
the old fellow said over and over 
again. "But . . . I . . . I." 

"It belongs to you," Loren 

The man was at the door now. 
He turned back to Loren, and 
with a twinkle in his eyes, said. 
"Didn't I hear you say you 
wanted a bicycle, young man?" 

"Someday I'll own one," he 
said confidently. "Mom said so." 

The elderly gentleman leaned 
against the door casing, and 
chuckled to himself. "I bought 
one a few months back," he said. 
"Figured I'd learn to ride it, but 
shucks, I'm too old; it's danger- 
ous. I was just wishing for a lad 
— I'll bring it by the station, and 
you can have it," he said, and he 
was gone, shuffling down the 
street, without waiting for an 

"Mom, Mom, did you hear?" 
Loren rushed to her side. "A 
real bicycle. Oh, Mom!" 

"Yes," she said, in a barely 
audible voice. "I heard." Then 
smiling down at him, she said a 
little shakily. "Today, Son, you 
went a long way up that ladder 
— of becoming a real 
fine man. Shall 
we go home?" 



Lucy W. Jones 

She made the "desert blossom as the rose 
With phlox, delphinium, iris, roses, too; 
Most lovely shades, and every name she knew! 
Her "mums," huge blossoms, just as large 
As one could find that any florist grew. 
Geraniums, petunias, bleeding-heart, her 
Garden graced; and with much pride and joy 
She shared with others these fine creations; 
And the violets, called African, that grew 
Within her home. Perhaps, in realms on high. 
She now is planning gardens, others there to 
Please with colors, and the beauty that she 
Loved. When her earthly garden wakens in the 
Spring, we will recall the gentle hands 
That cared for it in patience and in love 
So many years; and we will hope that it 
Will bloom again in all its past bright radiance 


Recipes for 

Harriet B. Thorne 


1 egg 

2 c. flour, sifted 
1/^ tsp. salt 

4 tbsp. shortening 
1/3 c. sugar 

1 c. blueberries, drained 

3 tsp. baking powder 

1 c. milk 

1 tsp. lemon flavoring 

Grease muffin tins. Set oven at 400°. Beat egg. Melt shortening, add to milk, 
combine with beaten egg. Sift dry ingredients, saving one tbsp. flour to shake 
over berries. Combine liquid and dry ingredients, mix, using about 15 strokes. 
Fold in floured berries. Batter should be lumpy. Spoon into tins and bake 20 
minutes. Yields approximately 18 muffins. May be frozen in plastic bags or 
wrapped in foil paper. 


1 pint commercial sour cream 
pinch salt 

14 c. chopped nuts 

2 medium size mashed bananas 
2 tbsp. lemon juice 

1 large can crushed pineapple 

2 tbsp. drained chopped maraschino 

1/3 c. sugar 

Drain pineapple and reserve juice for sauce. Mix all together in order given. Place 
paper muffin cups in muffin tins. Fill cups. Cover with foil paper. Freeze in 
deep freeze overnight. The paper cups filled with fruit may then be removed and 
stored in plastic bags in the deep freeze. Remove from deep freeze and place 
on serving plate on lettuc.e or water cress about 15 minutes before serving. 
Yields approximately 16. 
This salad is delicious as a dessert with cubed fresh fruit on top. 


Bring pineapple juice to a boil. For each cup of juice, take approximately one 
scant teaspoon of cornstarch wtiich has been dissolved in a little water. Add 
sufficient Ik^uid cornstarch to thicken sauce. Add a dash of cayenne pepper. 
CooJ. Do not refrigerate. Spoon on top of salad. 



Peel equal quantity of carrots and turnips. Simmer each in separate cooking pots 
until tender. Drain separately. Mash each well. Combine the carrots and turnips 
and generously add butter. Salt and pepper to taste. Pour in casserole, dot with 
butter, and heat before serving. May be prepared the day before, or a couple 
of days before. 
Serve the above menu with a thick slice of honey-glazed ham. 


1/3 c. chicken broth 2 c. cubed chicken 

1/^ tsp. salt and Vs tsp. pepper 2/3 c. mayonnaise 

2 c. seasoned wild rice, cooked 1 c. chopped celery 
2 tbsp. white vinegar 

Simmer a 4 to 5 pound roasting chicken in approximately 3 cups of water with 
one medium size onion and 2 stalks of celery, salt and pepper. Simmer until 
tender. Strain broth, cool, and chill so that all grease may be removed. Remove 
chicken from bones and cut into bite-size pieces, chill. Cook rice and cool. 
Mix salad in order given. Serve in a large bowl garnished with lettuce. May be 
mixed the day before. 

On each table place bowls of green, butter-coated chocolate mints (purchased 
at a candy store), and plates of cookies made from the following recipe: 


Cream 1 c. of butter and 1 c. of 1 egg 

sugar 1 c. almond paste 

1/2 c. each of slivered almonds and lYz c. flour 

coconut V4 tsp. each of soda and almond 

Yz tsp. baking powder flavoring 

Mix in order given. Drop from teaspoon onto ungreased cookie sheet. Bake at 
350° about 15 minutes or until delicately brown. 


(Recipe for Deep Dish Cherry Pudding) 

It has been brought to our attention that an error was made in the printing of the 
recipe for "Deep Dish Cherry Pudding," which appeared on page 117 of the Febru- 
ary issue of the Magazine. The corrected recipe reads as follows: 

41/2 qts. pitted red cherries SV-^ c. sugar 

IVi c. cornstarch i ... mace 

5 c. sugar 2 cups shortening 

1 tbsp. salt 8 eggs 

2V2 qts. pancake mix 1 qt. milk 


Hope Chest 

Elizabeth Cottam Walker 

M Following the marriage of each 
of our children, my husband and 
I took a "wedding trip" much 
needed and highly recommended 
for all parents as a recuperative 
measure. We returned from the 
last such vacation we would make 
in silence. I wandered through 
the house, room by room, and 
had not so much a dejected, 
lonely feeling as one of frustra- 

Viewed dispassionately, our 
home was in a shabby, down-at- 
heels, unattractive, middle-aged 

I turned to my husband, "My 
mother had an unusual system 
for this time of life. Whenever 
the last child of a neighbor's 
family married, my mother gave 
the parents a shower. She invited 
all the neighbors and friends in 
for an afternoon of visiting and 
a shower." 

My spouse made no response. 

I thought the situation over 
for a time. Obviously, I could not 
give myself a shower, nor could I 
suggest to neighbors that one 

might be appreciated. Finally, I 
decided I would make a second 
hope chest and I made myself 
sit down and list things I in- 
tended to accumulate. 

I was in a department store 
when the towels caught my eye. 
I had been silently longing for a 
pink tile bathroom, with gold- 
colored fixtures and apple green 

I selected warm pink towels 
with gold stripes and a lighter 
pink to initial in gold. I also 
found some in solid gold color; 
these to be initialed in green. T 
didn't buy haphazardly. I had 
been using towels all my life, but 
knew very little about what 
makes towels good towels. I 
sought out a buyer and talked 
with her about towels, and I 
learned from her how to distin- 
guish a good towel from an 
inferior one. I learned that a pas- 
tel-colored towel is more absorb- 
ent than a dark one, because of 
the dye. 

I could not lift a heavy towel, 
when wet, without strain, so, 



under the buyer's guidance, I them. I hang them in the air and, 

selected thick, close terry weaves in about fifteen minutes, they are 

in medium weight and size. ready to use on the bed. 

When I got my towels home, I I had made quilts during the 

wrapped them in blue tissue and depression years, but had quite 

boxed them in a large cardboard forgotten about them, replacing 

box. I taped the edges of the box the worn ones with blankets, 

and labeled it, then stored it on a When I found a book of quilting 

shelf in the basement. patterns in a neighborhood store, 

Next came the sheets. I love I paid my pennies for it and spent 

flowered ones, but frugality die- the evening ignoring TV while I 

tated white. Again, before mak- gloated and dreamed. Imagina- 

ing my final decision, I talked tion raced far ahead of accom- 

with the buyer. I learned I could plishment, and I finally burst 

get sheets made so well that I forth, "Maybe I can't have a 

would not have to bend the shower, but I certainly can have 

mattress to get them over the a quilting bee." 

corners. I looked for these easy- "Oh, come now." Old Patience 

fitting comers type. I changed tried to discourage me. "No one 

my mind about colored bed Hnen. ever has quilting bees anymore." 
I bought stripes galore, with 

matching cases and those won- I know that when husbands 
derful over-all patterns in gay make a statement wives are sup- 
flowers, posed to forget the idea birthing 

I learned ways of making linen in their minds. A week later I 

ensembles. If I bought two top unfolded the quilt top I had 

sheets with fitted comers, I sewed together from scraps of 

could reverse them, using the material from the "someone- 

fitted ends for the top under- might-need-it" box. My husband 

sheet and the bottom topsheet. looked it over carefully and com- 

This takes the wear from one mented, "You've got that one 

sheet and makes them last longer, block about a quarter-inch out of 

I went all out for nylon for line." 
company sheets. These are a I'm not mathematical, and that 
summertime delight, for they are quarter-inch I considered mere 
cool. In fact, a nylon undersheet poetic license, 
is the best buy in summer com- That quilting bee was a real 
fort I have found, but for our fun session. I still had my old- 
climate it is a bit too cool for fashioned quilting frames, so, 
winter. It is like sleeping on silk using dining room chairs padded 
— smooth, cool, luxurious. against damage, we set up the 

I really indulged in nylon quilt and sewed fine stitches all 

pillow cases. I have plenty of day long. I'd heard of the new 

lovely hand-embroidered and cro- quilting frames that roll, and 

cheted cases, but I use them only wanted a pair of them, but these 

for show. I stocked my hope chest old ones let the quilt stretch out 

with nylon pillow cases, but de- full length for the quilting, show- 

cided to try out two pair. Using ing its lovely design, 

soap for nylons, I wash and rinse I used a dacron batt because in 


APRIL 1966 

our climate, unless you use a 
dryer, it is quite difficult to find 
"quilt drying weather," and I am 
old-fashioned enough to like 
wind-dried bedding. The new 
synthetics give warmth without 
weight and launder, backing was 
of good-grade cotton broadcloth, 
guaranteed color fast. 

I had invited five friends to 
come to the bee and, thimbles 
riding high, they were there by 
ten in the morning. Four worked 
at quilting, one to a side, and we 
other two spanned the quilters. 

There is something soul-satis- 
fying about a quilting bee with 
friends, and eating together. Not 
only is an expressive work of art 
accomplished during the day, but 
friendships are deepened and 
hallowed, problems are shared, 
and solutions given through the 
alchemy of understanding and 
sympathy. It is really a wonder- 
ful therapy. 

At four o'clock the bee was 
over, and the quilt was almost 
finished. It was beautiful. After 
the "goodbyes and thank yous" 
were said, I noticed a small pack- 
age on the TV. Thinking one of 
the quilters had forgotten it, I 
picked it up. There was a note 
on it: "A consolation prize for 
the first person to catch a toe in 
our stitches." 

Quilting has grown into a 
wonderful hobby for the six of 
us. We make many quilts, from 
pieced beauties to lovely satin 

ones, and all our homes display 
them proudly. I, however, have 
reserved my loveliest quilts, 
wrapped and boxed, with the 
other linens. 

My husband was duly im- 
pressed by our products of in- 
dustry. He showed them to 
everyone, until our new grand- 
child's picture took over. In fact, 
stirring through the mending box, 
he found materials he liked and 
busied himself on an off-day, 
cutting blocks for his own 
quilt. He sewed his pattern and 
made a nice top, mannish and 
geometric. We went together to 
get the batt and lining, for he 
would not shop for them alone. 
We put the quilt on the frames, 
and with a sheepish look he pro- 
duced a large thimble, threaded a 
needle and started to quilt. I was 
puzzled but impressed; this was 
the man who couldn't sew on a 
button. I left him to his quilting 
and busied myself elsewhere; in 
three minutes two seconds, came 
the call for help. 

"How the dickens do you wom- 
en sew upside-down stitches?" 

I hadn't expected to have a 
quilting bee the next day, but I 
cancelled appointments and the 
friends who could come gave me a 
hand with the quilting, and we 
finally got it finished and off. It 
is a beautiful quilt, and my 
husband explains that he made 
it, "all but the backhand quilt- 


Kathryn Kay 

April's faucets 
Leak and burst, 

May becomes her plumber, 

All of June's roots quench their thirst, 

Stretch, and lo! It's summer! 






Genevieve Van Wagenen 


■ I love April with its golden daffodils and forsythia, its crocus and purple 
violets — colors of royalty. April, month of hope and promise — symbol of the 

I love April for its return of green to the blade of grass, the leaf to bush 
and tree. The premier opening of flower buds, the return of birds, with their 
songs and nest building industry. 

I love April with her newborn babies — lambs, calves, and colts with wobbly 
legs and adorable faces. I love the profuse display of mother love expressed 
by the animal kingdom. April is a wondrous panorama of nature's obedience 
to God's command, "Be fruitful." 

I love the freshness of April air, the blue of sky, with bouffant clouds toe- 
dancing by. The dew that lingers long beneath a gentler sun. 

I love the feel of exhilaration from the waking soil, the gentle falling rain. 
I love the fragrant furrowed earth, dark and moist; with white gulls hovering 
low — a study in contrast and design. 

I love April, with her fruit trees, bridal gowned and bewitching with perfume. 
The cuddly pussy willows in their swaying deckered beds. The swelling streams 
— adventure bound. The weeping willow's fresh dyed wig of yellow green. Her 
hair color Is no secret, she wants the world to know how gay she feels. 

I love April for ambition that it stirs within the farmer's breast to plow and 
plant and cultivate. For new energy bestowed on homemakers to clean and 

I love April for the exuberance, happiness, and joyous activity it inspires in 
youth. For thanksgiving and gratitude it prompts in maturity. For freedom 
from winter's cold and icy grasp. For wondrous thoughts, that turn to love. 

I love April, for then the saints meet in General Conference. The faithful 
gather from countries far and near, to hear God's prophet mouthpiece, here 
on earth. Humbly they gather, willing to be instructed; seeking to be inspired 
and stimulated by God's chosen leaders. 

Yes, I love April for many things: for my wonderful Savior; for this beautiful 
world he created; for his great and willing sacrifice for all mankind; for the 
assurance of a resurrection; for the restored gospel and plan of salvation that 
make life glorious, full of purpose and meaning; for living prophets and con- 
tinuous revelation. I love April. 


Make a Dickey 

Wilma B. Lichfield 

■ We are all interested in stretch- 
ing the clothing budget, and each 
new technique we learn gives us 
the joy of creative accomplish- 

My favorite black dress, which 
still fits me well, and can be 
washed in the machine, was get- 
ting too shabby to wear for best, 
so, to brighten it up for wearing 
at home, I made several dickeys. 
Some of them were triangular in 
shape and made with attached 
collars. Others were cut to fit a V 
neckline. Snaps were sewed on the 
dress, and in corresponding posi- 
tions on the dickeys, so that they 
could be attached and removed 
quickly, and still be held neatly 
in place. 

If a dress is of solid color, 
attractive dickeys could be cut 
from material of a contrasting 
color, from prints (including Pais- 
ley), polka dots, plaids, or even 
knitted material, such as a turtle- 
neck sweater, if it is made of 
cotton or rayon material. 

Often we have a favorite blouse, 
only partly worn, and by cutting 
out the sleeves, the blouse can 
be used as a dickey, giving a fresh, 
clean touch to a dark-colored 
dress. Dickies can be worn, also, 
with two-piece suits, with cardi- 
gan sweaters, or with plain shift 

I Love Patches 

Joan N. Ahlman 

■ Whenever I see a regular little fel- 
low with large loving patches on the 
knees of his jeans, a warm feeling 
conies over me toward him and his 
mother. These patches say that he 
is a completely normal, lively, active 
youngster — we wouldn't want children 
any other way — and that his mother 
cares about the clothes he wears. 

In the Patch Parade, mothers can 
be classified in one of three categories: 
A. The Hasty- Waster, who can't 
be bothered with patching when even 
a small hole appears, discards the 
article which might still have months 
of wear if only it were patched, and buys a new garment. Her children may 
always look as if they just stepped out of a bandbox, but what a waste! 

B. The Holey-er-than-thou-er, who constantly detects holes and worn 
spots, won't take that step to stitch, but endlessly lets her children go 
mendlessly about with that more -than- casual look. No doubt about it, she 
saves money, but what good is frugality without the right kind of pride? 

C. The Stitch-in-Timer, who, as she sews, reaps the satisfaction that 
her children look neat and well-cared for, even though there may be a 
patch here or a mend there. She exhibits pride, and by her thrift, she has 
saved pennies that soon add up to dollars, which can be put aside for educa- 
tion, missions, etc. How wonderful it would be if every mother could be in 
this "C" class. 

Unlike the "Wonderful One Hoss Shay," clothes do have points of strain 
that become worn, even though the rest of the garment is still in good con- 
dition, so it is wisdom to patch these spots. 

It may seem to some that patching is a colorless, uncreative task, but by 
classifying herself as a "fabric physician," a homemaker can have the 
satisfaction of adding days, weeks, or months to the life of an ill piece of 

As I continue to ponder over patches, I believe if more women became 
patch-conscious, there would be a definite lift in the quality of home and 
community life. If a woman is conscientious about patching toggery, this 
habit will soon extend to mending linens, furniture, meals, and all things 
about the home, leading to more frugal living. 

I also love the "patch system" our Heavenly Father has provided for us. 
Our lives, compared to a garment, cannot be like the clothing that the 
wasteful homemaker casts aside when a small hole appears. We have only 
one mortal life to live, and free agency enables us to choose whether or not 
we wear a life that is torn and unmended, or accept the philosophy of 
patching to renew our lives. Through the atonement of Jesus Christ, we 
may patch up what may have once been a spiritually tattered life, by sincere 
repentance. Like the expert invisible weaver who can make a torn garment 
look new again, we, through repentance, can do the same for our lives, 
because the Lord has said, "Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the 
same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more" (D&C 58:42). 

I hope you, too, will be able to join me in saying "I Love Patches." 


Paintings iVIake Every Day Beautiful 

Jennette S. Hadley, Boise, Idaho, began painting after six of her eight 
children had married and left the home. In her girlhood she had studied art at 
Ricks College, and when, in her later years, she found leisure time, she remem- 
bered with pleasure the hours spent in the study of art. She then enrolled 
in an instruction class and "brushed up" on her early studies. Soon, with oil 
paints and canvas, she began to create colorful scenes — landscapes of her 
beloved mountains and valleys. Some of her paintings have won prizes at county 
fairs, and some of them are hung in the Relief Society room of the Letha Ward 
chapel in Weiser Stake. In addition to scenics, Mrs. Hadley paints animals and 
still life, and has painted a few portraits. She is generous in sharing her hobby 
with others, and has encouraged many women to take up painting as a hobby. 

Mrs. Hadley's Relief Society activities have included service as a counselor in 
Weiser Stake and in the Letha Ward. She has been a visiting teacher continuously 
since her marriage. Recently, she moved to Boise, where she makes her home 
with her husband and two youngest children. 




Sylvia Probst Young 




■ Spring was usually late in coming to our valley, but, finally, when the last 
fringes of snow were gone and a warm wind stirred the leafing willows, we 
knew that winter was done and the wonderful waking season had returned. 

On such a sun-bright day, when Saturday's chores were finished, we would 
trip off to the low hill next to our meadow, and there, the wild daffodils — a 
host of them — with delicate, yellow heads swaying gently, stood waiting to 
greet us. 

It was a moment of breathtaking ecstasy, standing on the brow of the hill, 
overlooking a sea of flower golden loveliness. How eagerly we picked our 
aprons full of the bright blossoms to bring back to our mothers. 

The daffodils were a symbol of earth's beauty, of the beauty of all returning 
things — an April brook, a flowering dogwood, a winging blackbird. 

Remembering that childhood experience, I have tried to be aware of beauty 
everywhere, not only in the wonders of nature, but in the lives of people I 
meet everyday. 

I see the dedication of a young doctor who spends hours of his time, 
without monetary compensation, bringing comfort and happiness to the old, 
forgotten people in a nearby institution; the patience of a gentle teacher 
working with handicapped children; the selflessness of a widowed mother who 
works extra hours so that her children may gain an education. And I see all 
the courageous ones who face the storms of adversity and loneliness and go 
uncomplainingly forward. 

The old man who brings eggs to me counts them with gnarled, rough hands, 
but his are the hands of an honest, good man, and in them I see the beauty 
of strength. Through the deep, dark eyes of a teenage girl — eyes bright as 
stars, lighted with anticipation — I see the world in rainbow colors. 

Then there are times, in the quietness of a chapel, when I have listened to 
the voice of an aged prophet, and his gentle face, his words of wisdom lift 
my spirit. He is a portrait of peace, and his shining countenance reflects a 
life of devotion to a cause greater than himself. Looking to him I find a spiritual 
beauty that fills my soul. 

So all around me, everywhere, I can find beauty if I am aware of it — by 
dawn and starlight, with each day, each changing season. And for all who are 
thus aware, life cannot be made commonplace, for they will walk with joy 
and sing on a hill of daffodils. 


Clara Home Park 

■ I love poetry — for the feeling of bigness in the world that it reveals, 
showing the smallness of my conception, visible to me as I read. I love 
it for the imagination it stirs within me, for the remembrance of similar 
situation and gratification I remember from my youth. Past experiences 
I see with enlarged vision — the impression of my first view of ocean 
waves dashing, tumbling rhythmically obedient to the Creator's order 
— thus far shalt thou go and no farther until the word be given. 

I love every poet who inspires the feeling of greatness within me — 
who fires my determination to excel in my world in spite of my small 
desires for limited usefulness. 

I love the rhythm of words, the music in them which makes me catch 
my breath from their lovely intonations — the flash of genius I perceive 
in the artist's hand; the flow of another's words expressing sympathy 
and love of fellow men. I am a better person for having been able to 
share another's thought, to catch his heartbeat in his creation, and 
still my own heart to understanding and sympathy. This inspiration 
I cannot afford to miss. 

I love poetry for the lift it gives me toward the infinite. The possibili- 
ties it stirs in my imagination — the knowledge it gives me that, with 
proper determination and personal effort I may, one day, see the glories 
of heaven. 

I love poetry as I love to view the greatness in nature — the vastness 
of mountains, the freedom of a waterfall that plays in the sunlight and 
throws its millions of bubbles into the air where the rainbow cannot 

The rhythm, the music, the part of heaven spared to us upon which 
we feed our hungry imagination and grow in grace and beauty lifts us 
as with wings to a celestial world of spiritual humility and gratitude. 

I love poetry! To me it is life. 



What are you 
going to teach, 

IVIOtnCr ■ ^^^^° Larsen 

■ School is out and the children 
are relieved and delighted. Or are 
they? Greg, who had just been 
promoted to the Fourth Grade, 
couldn't find anything to do. 
Gay, a pretty teenager, was col- 
lapsed on a chair in the kitchen 
with her hand in the cookie jar. 
Where were their usually alert minds? 

I could hear other children in the neighborhood. They were 
running and shouting outside. But my little boy had asthma, and my 
quiet teenager had a heart block that limited her activity. I could not 
watch them become unhappy. 

"How would you like a school of your own?" I asked. "First, we 
will need a janitor to vacuum the carpet and set out chairs." 
"I will!" said Greg. 

"We should have music and a thought to start with." 
Gay came from the kitchen. "We had Seminary first, and I really 
liked it last year." 

"Why don't you be the teacher?" I asked. 

"I will teach math," Greg offered. I smiled, for this was his diffi- 
cult subject. 

"Could I be the school cook, mother, and fix anything I want?" 
Gay asked. "And don't forget recess!" Greg shouted. 


APRIL 1966 

"We can take turns being the teacher," Gay said. "What are you 
going to teach, Mother?" 

That was how it happened, one of our happiest summers. We 
called it Sunrise School, and it started soon after Father left for work. 
Besides Gay teaching Seminary, which was complete with prelude 
piano music, singing, prayer, and Biblical stories, she also gave us 
simple lessons in French. She invented a card game called "French 
Fish," and we could use only French words. 

Greg worked each afternoon preparing "complicated" math 
problems for the next morning, and a close friend of his came over 
once a week to be the spelling teacher. Her name was Pat, and she 
was most interesting. She searched her geography book for words 
like Isthmus of Panama, tributary, irrigate, and others. 

It was a challenge. I made mistakes along with the rest. And I 
was doing my best! 

I was in charge of the recess bell and extra-curricular recreation. 
We went by train to visit my sister in California and held one unfor- 
gettable sunrise class with their family. When we returned home we 
wrote about our trip. 

This year Gay will be going to summer school and college. Greg 
and I will miss her, but we plan to continue our lessons and she will 
share her experiences with us. 

Teachers and friends agree my children are "gifted." I am not 
sure about that, but I do wonder about other mothers. What are you 


Linda J. Houston 

The morning-glory morning 

Of celestial blue 

Came joyfully with 

Butterflies and warmth. • i 

Birds praised her; 

Roses opened their arms. 

She caressed two children at play, 

Filling their sand pails with gold d 

Almost as bright as their innocent 

The slender cornstalks 

Straightened their shoulders, 

The brook sighed blissfully; 

And the hearts of those who felt 

Her splendor 

Were airy and light that day. 



IVd Violins 

Lael J, Littke 

'■^»i-*ir!'- •^•,r.-.■^" 

.■ Mother was lying pale and quiet on the high hospital bed when 
Dad and I entered the room. It frightened me to see her that way, so 
to hide my emotions I loped to her side greeting her with the raucous 
"Hiya" I use for my thirteen-year-old girl friends. She smiled at me 
and asked how I was and how the other children were. Fine, I assured 
her, except for Tootie's chicken pox, which Mrs. Donegan next door 
claimed looked more like smallpox to her, and Tom's mashed finger 
which was the only thing that got hurt when the tractor ran away 
with him. Fine, I told her again, except that things just didn't go 
right and the house was empty without her, and I was a miserable 
substitute for her, and we missed her desperately, and, as a matter 
of fact, everything was just terrible. I broke down and cried on her 
crisp white sheet. She smoothed my hair and told me to sit down in 
the chair nearby. 

My father approached the bed then, and through my sniffles and 
sobs I watched with interest. In the stories I had read, a husband 
visiting his wife in the hospital, always rushed to her bedside and 
buried his face in her neck, all the while murmuring things like, "My 
darling, I can't stand to see you this way." 

My father was big and never said much, but in the stories it was 
always the strong, silent ones who were the most romantic. At home 
Dad was undemonstrative, but this was a different situation, wasn't 


APRIL 1966 

Slowly Dad approached the bed. He stood there a moment, 
fiddling with the glass tube in the water container on the small table. 
Then he looked straight at mother. He cleared his throat. 

"The jersey had her calf last night," he said. He shifted his 
weight. "Got nearly 300 eggs from the old hens." 

I could scarcely believe my ears. This is marriage? I thought. For 
this someday I will get married so that my husband can come to my 
hospital bedside and tell me some cow has had a calf? A wave of pity 
washed over me, pity for my mother tied all these years to a man 
whose main interests were in how many eggs the hens had laid. 

I stood up and opened my mouth to tell my mother something — 
anything — which would make her understand that Dad missed her, 
too. Before I could blurt out anything, my glance snagged on Dad's 
face. There were tears in his eyes. He was looking down at Mother. 
A peek at my mother's face told me she understood perfectly what he 
was trying to convey to her. She smiled up at him and he touched her 
cheek with his rough, horny, farmer's hand. 

I didn't see deep into their souls with a sudden flash of percep- 
tion as the people did in the magazine stories, but I saw enough to 
make me begin to understand a little about a different kind of love. 
There were no violins sobbing out romantic melodies, but somewhere, 
beyond my hearing, there were angels singing of a plain and humble 
love which was deep enough, big enough, strong enough, to last 
throughout eternity. 


Carolle Denton 

Time was long and seeming dark . . . 
A knock came to my door, 
Two sisters brought a light within 
I had not seen before. 

Warmth of sun on shadowed clay 
Softened and formed anew 
The latent powers of hope and love, 
And let the daylight through. 

The Lord who saw this hardened clay 
Knew well the urgent cry 
To bring my life out of the shade. 
And now, how bright the sky! 


Wheat for the Wise 

Margery S. Stewart Chapter Four 

Synopsis: Jennie Starr, whose hus- 
band Rex is not a member of the 
Church, realizes the need for spiritu- 
ality and religious training for the 
children. Rex agrees to 0t trial period 
of one year 3k)r the family to partici- 
pate in Church activities, and Jennie 
feels that they are making progress. 

■ On the next Wednesday Jennie 
fasted. Not for the Primary class 
alone, but for the whole project. 
Not having fasted since she was a 
child, there were times during 
the day when she was sure she 
would faint. She made a cake, be- 
fore lunch, covered it lavishly 
with chocolate frosting and nuts. 
She refrained from absently pol- 
ishing off the frosting spoon. She 
took the cake to Primary. 

The boys, tripping and gouging 
each other, fell silent when they 
saw the cake pan. When march- 
ing out time came, they followed 
her with the alacrity of puppies. 

Jennie put the cake in the 
place of honor on the small table. 

"When do we get it?" 

"Cut it now!" They swarmed 
out of their places and sur- 
rounded the table, their greedy 
fingers reaching out for a sur- 
reptitious swipe. 

Jennie said softly, "This cake. 

like the blessings of the Lord, is 
for the good ones." 

"You mean we gotta wait till 
after the lesson!" 

Famished herself, Jennie could 
well appreciate the howl of pro- 
test. She ignored it and put out 
her flannel board and figures. She 
started with the roll call. "Answer 
only to your name," she said 

She gave the lesson with all 
the vigor she could summon in 
her present weakness. Eyeing the 
cake and the boys, she knew to 
the last pang, the longing of each 
young stomach. 

The long silence was awesome. 
When she dropped Moses from 
the flannel board, young Billy 
leaped to pick the cardboard fig- 
ure from the floor. 

"Thank you," she said. 

"You're welcome," he said 
gravely. No , one laughed. Not 
even when he brought the kitten 



APRIL 1966 

out from its hiding place in his 
shirt. No one crowded around 
him. Billy put the kitten back. 

Jennie brought the class to an 
end promptly, after which she cut 
the cake and passed around the 
rich, crumbly slices. She did not 
take one herself, wanting a more 
fitting end to her fasting. But 
she had won, even though after 
the cake was demolished, they 
began their jostling and boxing. 
Something was broken. Probably 
the feeling they had had that no 
one nor anything could subdue 

Soon after dismissal, red-haired 
Billy came slowly back into the 
room, cradling the kitten. ''Sister 
Starr. . . ." 

"Yes, Billy?" She gathered up 
her visual aids. 

He dropped the kitten on the 
table. "For you ... on account 
of you're a real good teacher." 

Jennie looked down on the 
mewing white fluff. She was 
deeply touched. "Thank you, 
Billy. I will take good care of 

Even later, when she learned 
that his mother had commanded 
him to dispose of the kitten, she 
treasured the offering. 

Rex came home early to help 
and was astonished by her radi- 
ance. "But how?" 

She told him about the cake. 

Rex, probing the reason for a 
recalcitrant vacuum, put down 
the screwdriver and shouted with 
laughter. "Somehow," he said, "I 
don't think it's quite according to 
Hoyle." He looked at her with 
respect. "What made you think 
of it?" 

She said comfortably, "I re- 
membered what my father said 

about how you can't pour from an 
unfilled pitcher. I poured." 

"What was the lesson about?" 

"The stranger within our gates 
. . . you know ... be not forgetful 
to entertain strangers, for there- 
by some have entertained angels 
unawares. . . ." She said reluc- 
tantly, "I sort of threw that in as 
a bonus, on account of they are 
being beastly to a new boy." 

Rex plugged the vacuum in 
and it responded with a reassur- 
ing hum. He wound up the cord. 
"Speaking of strangers . . . guess 
whom I saw on Main Street to- 

"Yul Brynner?" 

"No . . . Jody Anderson. I 
guess people call him Joe now 
. . . but it's hard to get out of 
the habit." 

Jennie said absently. "Still on 
the piano?" 

Rex. shrugged. "I guess so. He 
said he was doing a bit of com- 

"How did he look?" 

"The same as always . . . only 
more lost. He's been living back 
east . . . teaching." 

Jennie had a quick vision of 
the tall, homely, stooped figure. 
"Even in high school he was . . . 
well different. ." 

"He was a kook then and he's a 
kook now. This is his first trip 
back home in five years." 


Rex said pityingly, "Who 
would marry him?" 

Jennie was silent. 

"Why do they come back?" 
Rex demanded. "I'll bet there is 
no other town in the country 
where so many return. What is it 
they come for?" 

Jennie had no words to tell 
him. She felt it might be the 



thing that urged her to go down 
to the temple grounds in the 
morning. It was a leaning down 
through years to a beginning. It 
was a search for the roots and 
the reasons. 

She had meant to go very 
early, but there were so many 
telephone calls. Lorna called and 
was impatient. 

"What cave are you living in, 
darhng? And how do you like the 
hermit's life?" 

Jennie laughed and took the 
curlers out of her hair. She had 
had to do her own hair for the 
past two weeks. Just no time to 
spare for a hairdresser. 
"Guess who is in town?" 
"Jody Anderson." 
"My dear, have you seen him? 
You should! Positively scare- 
crow ... but really!" Lorna 
bethought herself of the reason 
for her call. "It's the luncheon 
for Mrs. Martin Elliott. You'll 
come of course?" 
"When is it?" 
"Next Wednesday." 
"Sorry. I'm up to my ears in 
Church work." 

"Oh," Lorna hesitated. "Are 
you sure? I mean . . . they can 
always g6t teachers." 

Jennie thought of Sister Phil- 
lips. "No they can't. I'm the 

"Well ... all right . . . but come 
up for air once in a while. We 
miss you." 

Jennie dressed quickly before 
the telephone could ring again. 
She wore her fur hat and the 
tweed great coat and the fur- 
lined gloves. She hurried the car 
down the hill and finally turned 
the heater on. "Ah." She relaxed 
in the snowy morning. Johnny 
and Lora were being left with a 

new sitter, a mature and intelH- 
gent woman. There was nothing 
between herself and the free 
hours ahead. 

Even though the day was brisk, 
there were many visitors to the 
temple grounds. Jennie joined 
them, absently listening to 
the young guide, but inside 
herself the questions surged. 
What did she believe? How much 
did she believe? She listened to 
the guide tell the story of the 
seagulls' flight over the valley 
and the destruction of the cricket 
plague. What had they thought, 
sweating through their fields, 
fighting the winged devourers? 
Had they had the sure knowledge 
that help would come from some- 
where? She had launched herself 
on this year's quest, blindly 
believing that if she did her part, 
all else would fall into place. So 
had the pioneers launched them- 
selves into the valley, fallen from 
a cliff, grasping to the shrub of 
their faith, they had held on. Let 
me be like them, she prayed. Let 
me just hold on. 

She went into the Tabernacle 
to listen to the organ recital. 
"Jesu, Joy of Our Desiring," she 
listened to the great notes soaring 
against the domed ceiling. She 
saw Jesus in the wheat fields, 
rubbing the grains in his fingers. 
Was she, Jennie Starr, wheat or 
tares? Who knew within himself 
which he was in the last analysis? 
If a man did not know himself 
. . . how could he know his neigh- 
bor? Shfe looked stealthily at her 
own neighbor, sitting so absorbed 
in the music! It was a man. His 
eyes were closed. He seemed, by 
his expression, to be drawing the 
music in through his pores. 


APRIL 1966 

Jody Anderson. 

As if she had said his name 
aloud, the man opened his eyes 
and looked at her. It was a 
strange look. It recognized but 
did not reach. It was glad to see 
her, but it asked nothing from 

Jennie felt a tumult of pain. 
What had the man suffered to 
force him to such self-abnegation? 
What had they done to him, to 
make him unwilling or unable to 
be glad at sight of an old school- 

"Jody Anderson! Remember 
me? I was Jennie Bryson." Her 
whisper was too loud. People on 
the benches before them, turned 

"I remember you very well," 
said Jody. "It hasn't been that 
long . . . and you haven't 

She moved closer to him and 
held out her hand. He shook it 
guardedly. When the recital was 
over, they fell into step together. 
They walked down the paths to 
the monuments of the Prophet 
Joseph and his brother. 

"Rex said he saw you yester- 

Jody nodded. "He is very 
happy. It is easy to see that. You 
have four children." 

"Would you like to see them?" 
Jennie asked impulsively. 

"Of course." 

She hesitated . . . "But your 
family has prior claim . . . how 
long will you be here?" 

"I'm going back tomorrow." 

"Would you be free tonight?" 

His face made her think of 
winter. It was a still face ... as 
if it had long ago ceased nonsense 
of spring and laughter, summer 
and love. But he's only Rex's age, 

Jennie thought. She found her- 
self urging him. "Please come. We 
have a new Steinway . . . and it 
has never really known music. . . . 
Come and make it glad with 
your playing." 

He said angrily, "I discovered 
I was no pianist a long time ago." 

"But you are ... I remem- 
ber " 

"But I was not enough of what 
I was. . ." he explained. "I was 
not enough of greatness." 

She was silent before his out- 
burst. She felt his own pain. Once 
she had dreamed of greatness 
.... wanted it . . . feehng some- 
thing inside her pressing the wish. 
But she had not found a talent in 
her worthy of the struggle. 

She said, "If there's anyone 
from school you'd like to see, 
perhaps I could get them to 


There's no one," he said defi- 
nitely. "No one at all." Jennie 
closed her eyes against his voice 
and the barren vision of his 

"Please come." 

"All right," he said, wearily, 
"I'll come." 

It was one of those heavenly 
evenings when the children were 
quiet and remarkably well-be- 
haved, when Rex was at his most 
charming, when the dinner could 
have been served by a French 

When the children were ex- 
cused, the three of them sat be- 
fore the fire in the living room. 
Jody gave them small grudging 
pictures of his life. 

"They stopped satisfying me," 
he said, "the masters. I could 
only have peace by trying to 
bring out of myself, what they 


had brought out of themselves." 

The great names sHpped rever- 
ently from his lips, Beethoven, 
Brahms, Sibelius. ''Did you ever 
stop to think what it must have 
been like to have a 'Misa Solem- 
nis' roaring inside you?" 

Jennie marveled. She felt her- 
self stretched in her mind by his 
comments on their lives and 

"Why did you stop teaching?" 
Rex wanted to know. ''How did 
you live?" 

"It became more and more of 
my life . . . the music inside me. I 
never knew when it would come 
to me . . . the phrase . . .the mel- 
ody . . . the design, and the im- 
pulse. To try to teach with an 
oratorio blazing inside one ... is 
to my mind the ultimate of tor- 
tures. I did not know what I had 
just said ... I would look up and 
my class would be convulsed with 
laughter. I never knew whether I 
had said something out of turn, 
or was beating the measures. ..." 

"Did you ever publish any- 
thing?" Rex asked. Jennie stole 
a quick look at her husband. Rex 
was struggling to understand a 
life so barren of results, so moti- 
vated from within, rather than 
by the pressures from without 

Jody Anderson shrugged. "I've 
published . . . but not to loud 
successes. In fact, I should say 
the musical world has been re- 
markably calm about my efforts." 

Rex and Jennie exchanged 
glances. He was one of the 
touched, was Joseph Anderson. 
Jennie shivered, seeing him, in 
her mind's eye, going down 
through the years into a dried- 
up shell of never-to-be-realized 

He played for them before he 
left. The music filled the house. 
They did not understand the 
music, though they tried. It was 
a new kind of music, avaunt 
garde, way out, different, but it 
haunted Jennie long after the 
notes had fallen into silence. 

When he stood at the door to 
go, he smiled at them. It was a 
brief smile. "This was the reason 
I came," he said, and added, "I 
was hungry and ye fed me .... I 
was naked and ye clothed me 

"For a hungry man," said 
Jennie, "you certainly didn't eat 
very much." 

He paused a moment and then 
in a burst of words, "Tonight . . . 
in Philadelphia, they are having 
the opening of our play. It's a 
light play. . . . 'Dust on the 
Moon.' But I wrote the music 
and the words, and I like them 
very much." 

He nodded curtly and went 
away. They watched him walk 
down the street. Snow had begun 
to fall, and it circled his tall, 
ungainly figure. 

Jennie and Rex, uncertain and 
depressed, sat by the dying 
embers and discussed him. 

"He should throw it out," said 
Rex harshly, "cut it off from him- 
self. Sell insurance ... or teach 
. . . anything." 

Jennie thought of Jody Ander- 
son, sitting in his class, tormented 
by the wild measures of his songs. 
"Why?" she demanded. "Does 


APRIL 1966 

everyone have to have spHt-level 
houses and a color television?" 

"No," said Rex. "But the world 
is too full of people who will not 

Uennie kicked off her shoes and 
stretched out her toes to the fire. 
"But there is a difference . . . 
we would have been a poorer 
world without Handel, or Van 
Gogh or Emily Dickinson." 

"But for every Van Gogh," 
Rex observed, "there is an army 
of would-be's." 

"For every President of the 
United States," said Jennie 
slowly, "there is an arr^y of 
would-be's." She sat up. "Does a 
man choose to be a maker of 
music, or is he a maker of music?" 

Rex rose and pulled her to her 
feet. "For such a small woman, 
you ask awfully big questions." 

But Rex was the one who came 
running upstairs in the morning, 
bearing the newspaper that told 
about "Native Son," Joseph 
Anderson's, smash hit play in 

Lorna called. "Honestly, if you 
aren't shot with luck! I just met 
Rex and he told me about last 
night." She sighed. "Think of 
sitting there with one of the top 
celebrities. Just sitting there and 
having him play his own composi- 
tions . . . what was it like?" 

Jennie did not say, "It was 
heartbreaking." She did not say, 
"I learned the splendor of the un- 
defeated." She said, "He is a 
gentle person and very kind." 

Joseph Anderson sent them a 
note. ". . . It is amusing and in- 
teresting to be suddenly ac- 
cepted. I shall remember always, 
our meeting, and the evening at 
your house. It is to the thought of 

you and Rex and others like you 
that I cling, for I rather fear that 
I am one of those who will never 
be able to separate himself from 
the place of his beginning." 

Sabra had brought the mail to 
her and now waited, watching 
her mother's face. "Was it a good 
letter? Your face is undecided." 

Jennie read the note to her. 
Sabra leaned on her elbows and 
looked out the window to the 
orchard, now a garden of snow. 
"He was nice," she said. "I 
stayed awake and listened to him 
play." She practiced standing on 
her toes. "Did you know that I 
arn going to be like him when I 
grow up?" 

Jennie looked up quickly. "Ah, 
come now . . . how can you say a 
thing like that?" 

Sabra nodded. "I dreamed 
about it. I was old, about your 
age, Mother. I had a pocketful of 
songs. The birds came and took 
all the songs out of my pocket 
. . . and the people came and 
took the songs out of my hands 
. . . but it was always the songs 
they wanted . . . but they never 
wanted me at all." 

Jennie went to her daughter 
and hugged her fiercely. "No . . . 
it was only a dream. It was just 
one of those things . . . forget it." 

Sabra looked up in surprise. 
"But you don't understand. 
Mother! It was so beautiful . . . 
the way the notes came together 
inside me. ... It was such a 
beautiful thing." 

Jennie held Sabra's head 
against her breast. The protest 
rose like a cry within her ... no 
. . . no . . . don't let it happen to 
her. Don't let her be different 
and strange and rejected . . . no. 
{To be continued) 


A Proper Perspective 


The Relief Society Magazine 

Arlene Bascom 

It was one of those bleak, despairing kind of days. Everything had gone 
wrong. I was disappointed in myself and in my own feeling of inadequacy. 
I knelt and prayed for strength to meet the burdens of the day. I rose from 
my knees comforted, and with renewed determination to meet the problems, 
not as burdens but as challenges. 

Then the mail arrived, and with it The Relief Society Magazine. I knew it 
had come at a perfect time. I had found inspiration in its pages many times 
before. I began to read eagerly, and the inspiration and guidance I needed 
were there in abundance. 

One sentence from a soul-revealing story leaped out at me: "Everyone has 
problems, at any age, but there are compensations and blessings, if you just 
take time to think of them." Of course! There are compensations and 
blessings, I echoed joyously, and I will take the time to remember them. 

I said a silent prayer of gratefulness for the timely arrival of this help in 
regaining a proper perspective. My world was right again. I was sure I 
could meet the challenges of each new day more confidently. After all, 
didn't I have the Lord on my side, and the blessings of the Relief Society 
Magazine in my home? 

I am convinced that there is no other organization in the world that can 
compare with the Relief Society, and no other magazine in the world as 
valuable as The Relief Society Magazine. 

Full Circle 

Betty G. Spencer 

She slept — held gently in the protective circle of my arm. As I gazed 
lovingly upon the beauty of spirit and countenance of my year-old daughter, 
I wished that it might always be thus — my arms a shield against the uncer- 
tainties of life. But this cannot be. Soon, my arms must yield her to the 
challenge of life. 

There is respite, however; these next few precious years are mine — to 
teach, to guide, to train. May I use them well. Let me teach wisely, that she 
may be prepared to meet the future bravely, and alone — my arms reluctantly 
withdrawn. But, if I have taught the lessons wisely and she has learned them 
well, she will yet be shielded — with truth, and strength, and right. The circle 
of my arms will be replaced with a stronger, surer one, a circle of protective 




Relief Society Activities 

Long Beach Stake Relief Society Singing Mothers Present Concert 

December 18, 1965 

Marian Bennett, President, Long Beach Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"On December 18, 1965, the Long Beach Stake ReHef Society proudly presented 
in concert the Singing Mothers. The chorus, under the direction of Faye Ker- 
ner, with Theodora Johnson at the piano, practiced many weeks and hours 
for this concert. Among the numbers presented were: 'Morning,' 'O Winds, 
Blow Ye Softly,' 'Every Flower,' 'Praise Ye the Father,' 'Hear My Prayer,' 
'Panis Angelicus (O Bread of Life),' 'O Holy Night,' 'My Heart Is a Silent 
VioHn,' and 'Let Not Your Song End.' 

"Many who attended the concert remarked how professionally the chorus 
sang. We feel it was a very outstanding event. This was a fund-raising event, 
and all stake board members supported it wholeheartedly." 

Boston Stake Singing Mothers Present Music for Many Occasions 

Standing at the right in the back row: Helen B. Low, President, Boston 
Stake Relief Society; at Sister Low's right: Julienne A. Thomson, Second 

At the right in the second row: stake chorister Nora B. Cox; fourth from 
the right on the second row: Charlene Strong, board member; eighth from the 
right: Esther Poulsen, board member. 

Vicky Taylor, chorister, Billerica Ward, is seen conducting the chorus; 
the acting organist is Marta Tillis. 

Sister Low reports: "An excellent quality of tone and harmony gained 
by perseverance, as well as a number of sweet spirits, combine to make the 
Singing Mothers chorus a worthwhile activity. So believe the women of Boston 
Stake. This theory was tested when we participated with several other stakes 
singing at the Mormon Pavilion at the World's Fair. Many, many hours of 
hard work and self-sacrifice on the part of the sisters and their families pro- 
duced a chorus we hardly believed possible. To pay for the trip from Boston 
to New York, this chorus presented a very successful concert for friends and 
families of the participants. Our sisters grew to be very close, and their willing- 
ness to participate, we hope, will last for many years to come. 

"Now we take part in almost every stake conference. We are continuing 
our practices on a ward and stake level, hoping to make each successive per- 
formance outshine the last." 

The Boston Stake Singing Mothers presented music for stake conference 
January 30, 1966. The picture was taken previously. 


All material submitted for publication in this department should be sent 
through the stake Relief Society presidents, or mission Relief Society super- 
visors. One annual submission will be accepted, as space permits, from each 
stake and mission of the Church. Submissions should be addressed to the 
Editorial Department, Relief Society Magazine, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. 
For details regarding pictures and descriptive material, see The Relief Society 
Magazine for January 1966, page 50. 

APRIL 1966 

Bonneville Stake (Salt Lake City, Utah), Douglas Ward Relief Society 
Holds Bazaar "Treasures for Everyone" 

November 19, 1965 

Front row, seated, left to right: Blanche Gadd, Secretary-Treasurer; Arlean 
Olson, President; Mildred Kinnersley, Work Counselor; Rosetta Palmer, Ed- 
ucation Counselor. 

Back row, standing, left to right: Jerri Seiler, commentator for the fashion 
show; Dawn Reeve, committee chairman; committee members: Kathy Young; 
Gwen Woolsey; Lucile Gates; Beth Sorenson, work meeting leader. 

Lucretia M. Evans, President, Bonneville Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"A most successful bazaar was held, featuring 'Relief Society Treasures' made 
by the sisters during the year. Bazaar items were displayed in beautifully 
decorated antique trunks. Bakery goods from 'Treasured Recipes' were sold. 
A 'Treasure Cove' interested the children. To stimulate interest in the bazaar, 
at the beginning of the year, each sister in Douglas Ward, was asked to donate 
an apron. After the work meeting a month before the bazaar, an 'Apron 
Fashion Show' was the feature of the day. It was exciting to see the 110 
aprons donated by the sisters modeled. Recognition was given to the sisters 
donating the prettiest, the most practical, and the most unusual aprons. After 
seeing the aprons modeled, everyone was anxious to go to the bazaar early in 
order to buy her favorite apron. We feel that the fashion show created such an 
interest in the bazaar, in addition to the monetary help, that we intend to 
repeat it another year. We feel that the fashion show was a contributing factor 
to the increase in membership and attendance in Douglas Ward." 

North Central States Mission Relief Society Board Conducts Fifth Annual 

Relief Society Convention 

Fargo, North Dakota, August 1, 1965 

Seated, front row, left to right: Doris Youngs, First Counselor; Mary B. 
Ostvig, President; Dola Hofeling. 

Standing, left to right: Margaret Ann Abbott, Magazine representative; 
Jean Marie Didra, Secretary-Treasurer; Olfa Hansen, visiting teacher message 

Inset: Doris A. Allphin, Supervisor, North Central States Mission Relief 

Sister Ostvig reports: "The theme of the convention was 'Perfecting of 
the Saints Through Application of Gospel Principles.' Special participating 
guests included: Elder Bernard P. Brockbank, Assistant to the Council of the 
Twelve, and Sister Brockbank; Relief Society board members from eight 
districts of the North Central States Mission; and executive officers and class 
leaders, representing forty-five Relief Society organizations from Minnesota. 
South Dakota, North Dakota, part of Wisconsin; and Manitoba, Ontario, and 
the Lakehead area of Canada. 

"Combined and departmental meetings were held, with special original 
skits. Visual aids were featured, and district displays, showing the accomplish- 
ments of the work meeting departments. These were unique, and included 
pictures of the General Presidency of Relief Society standing under the clock 
which was donated for the Relief Society Building by the North Central States 
Mission Relief Society. This clock was installed over the elevator on the 
main floor of the building. 

"The combined Singing Mothers chorus of the mission sang at two sessions 
of the convention. Special recognition was given to the winners in the mission 
sponsored short story and poem contests." 


APRIL 1966 

Sharon Stake (Utah) Magazine Representatives Who Achieved a 100 Per Cent 
Subscription Record for Every Ward in the Stake 

January 24, 1966 

Seated, front row, left to right, Magazine representatives of Sharon Stake 
Loreen H. Bliss, Orem Thirteenth Ward; Alieda Hiener, Orem Twelfth Ward 
Sylvia Sabin, Orem Eleventh Ward; Meredith Searle, Orem Nineteenth Ward 
Dora Hartley, Provo Twentieth Ward; Lysle Williams, Orem Sixteenth Ward 
Naomi S. Biggs, Orem Twenty-third Ward. 

Back row, standing, left to right, fourth from the left: Arvilla J. Bradshaw, 
stake Magazine representative; fifth from the left, Eris M. Black, President, 
Sharon Stake Relief Society. 

Sister Black reports: "The picture was taken at our stake Relief Society 
leadership meeting, in recognition of the fact that each of our ward Magazine 
representatives achieved 100 per cent, or over, of her Magazine subscription 
quota for the year 1965. It has been many years since this goal has been 
reached in our stake. Not only does this achievement reflect the devoted, ef- 
ficient effort of each ward representative, but it shows the dramatic results 
of increased presidential support of the Magazine representatives in each 
ward. Support has also been extended to the representatives through our stake 
leadership meetings by calling attention to, and sometimes reading, a special 
article from the Magazine in the opening exercises, and by charting the progress 
of each ward representative in the presidencies department each month during 
the past year." 

Florida Stake Visiting Teacher Convention 

November 14, 1965 

Ruth F. Boone, President, Florida Stake Relief Society, reports: "Our 
visiting teacher convention was held in connection with Relief Society leader- 
ship meeting. Ninety-five women were honored and presented with certificates 
for having accon;iplished 100 per cent visiting teaching for a year (September 
1964 to September 1965). A bound volume of The Relief Society Magazine 
was presented to Palatka Ward for 100 per cent visiting teaching during 
the year. 

"An inspirational program was presented, and our Stake President Henry 
V. Jenkins was the principal speaker. A lovely reception was held in the 
cultural hall. One teacher, Martha Clark, from Waycross Ward, Georgia, has 
a record of fourteen years without missing a month. Our visiting teachers 
range in age from nineteen to ninety-three. Sister Annie Anell, Jacksonville 
Third Ward, was ninety-three on Valentine's Day. She drives her own car 
to do her visiting teaching." 

Anaheim Stake (California) Special Relief Society Meeting 

November 21, 1965 

Front row, seated, left to right: Dr. Harvey Fletcher; Lorena C, Fletcher; 
Max V. Eliason, President, Anaheim Stake; Glenna C. Woolf, President, Ana- 
heim Stake Relief Society; Kathern H. Marks, First Counselor; Colleen D. 
Baxter, Second Counselor. 

Second row, seated, second from the right (in black dress), chorister 
Marybeth Done; at right: organist Melba Longhurst. 

Sister Woolf reports: "In an effort to interest more women in Relief 
Society, a special meeting was held on Sunday, November 21, 1965. All the 
sisters and their husbands in Anaheim Stake. were invited. We were blessed 
to have Sister Lorena C. Fletcher (American Mother of the Year), and her 
husband Dr. Harvey Fletcher, as guest speakers, along with our Stake Pres- 
ident Max V. Eliason. Each woman was honored as American mother of her 
home. A tableau, depicting various phases of Relief Society, was presented 
on fihn and by characterization. The stake Singing Mothers presented two 
beautiful numbers Five hundred were in attendance." 


^ ^ ^ fl r> f^ ^ ^ o (% ^ f^ ^ 

APRIL 1966 

West Sharon Stake (Utah), Provo Seventeenth Ward Relief Society 

November 12, 1965 


Montez B. Harwood, President, West Sharon Stake Relief Society, re- 
ports: "The Provo Seventeenth Ward Relief Society held a most successful 
bazaar on November 12, 1965. The theme for the evening was 'Relief Society 
Carousel,' and the hall was gay with candy canes and carousels. There were 
seven different areas: Christmas shop, handicrafts, sewing, baked goods, toys, 
a fish pond, and the dinner. Each area around the hall was decorated in- 
dividually as a part of the central theme. The cost of the bazaar, including 
the ham dinner, was $392. There were 350 persons served during the evening, 
and the net profit of the bazaar was $1,024.75. The bazaar was presented 
under the direction of President Arleen T. Johnson, her Counselors Carole 
Olsen and Barbara Wardle, and work meeting leader Donna Ericson. The 
dinner committee consisted of Krilla Olsen, Cleone Judkins, Leora Giles, and 
Bonnie Smith. Committee chairmen were: Bernice Kirkwood, Donna Ericson, 
Marilyn Dunn, Arleen Johnson, Barbara Wardle, Ruth Adams, Krilla Olsen, 
and Doris Jensen. 

"The picture shows a circular arrangement of several varieties of cookies, 
with some of the beautifully decorated cakes in the background at the left." 


Lesson Department 

Development Through 
Homemaking Education 

Dr. Jenniev J. Poulson 

Chairman, Housing and Home Management Department 

Brigham Young University 


Northern Hemisphere: Second Meeting, July 1966 
Southern Hemisphere: December 1966 

Objective: To show that better buymanship is a skill to be developed. 

How important to the well-be- 
ing of the family is the woman's 
role in wise buying? Discuss. 

A goal of accumulating money 
just for itself brings little satis- 
faction. The value of money is 
realized in the happiness and 
satisfaction obtained through the 
wise spending of it. This is the 
happiness realized through spend- 
ing money wisely for such things 
as wholesome, nutritious food, 
for clothes that provide warmth, 
protection, and beauty for the 
body, for shelter and surround- 
ings for the family that aid in 
happy relationships and contrib- 
ute to the development of family 
members, for an education for 
the children, and for money spent 
in giving service to our Father 
in heaven. 


A concern of most families is 
to have enough money to take 
care of their needs. Families look 
forward to earning more money 
or increasing their incomes, but 
many families would benefit a 
great deal from increased skill in 
spending the money they have. 
Many hours may be spent in 
learning how to earn money, but 
how many hours are spent in 
learning to spend money wisely? 

Better buying practices can 
stretch each family's limited 
number of dollars, and can help 
it to get its money's worth 
whether buying necessities, com- 
forts, or luxuries. A homemaker 
who can stretch $1 to secure 
$1.15 worth of merchandise, or 
85 cents to secure $1 worth, is 


APRIL 1966 

adding to the real income of the 
family. This explains why it is 
possible that of two families with 
identical incomes, one family 
may have much more to show 
for the expenditure of its money. 
One of the secrets is wise buying. 


A wise buyer hunts for the 
greatest quantity and best qual- 
ity for the price she pays. Many 
buyers are guided by the philos- 
ophy that "you pay for what you 
get," and use price and brand 
as a guide to quality. 

Interesting and thought-pro- 
voking surveys have been made 
by important manufacturers to 
ascertain the relative appeal to 
shoppers of goods marked with 
well-known brand names, and 
goods made by other companies. 
The results of one such survey 
indicated that, although the 
brand name goods were consider- 
ably higher in price, the rate of 
selling was almost four times as 
great as that of the unbranded 

Many trade journals are full of 
reports of increased sales after 
prices have been raised. In one 
case, sales of an item on which a 
higher price was marked, in- 
creased thirty per cent. 

There is no dependable rela- 
tionship between quality and 
price. The homemaker who buys, 
thinking she gets higher quality 
for a higher price, may be spend- 
ing more money than is needed. 
Prices asked for identical branded 
products vary. 


A wise buyer does comparative 
shopping. She may do this by 


reading advertisements and com- 
paring the prices for identical 
items; or she may do compara- 
tive shopping by comparing prices 
and quality in different catalogs. 
She shops around at more than 
one store, comparing quality and 
price. Many homemakers have 
become accustomed to buying at 
one store, and do not compare 
prices before buying. One study 
led to the conclusion that sixty 
per cent of the buyers choose 
their stores on the basis of con- 
venience, not price. One must 
shop in different stores in an 
area, because no one store is 
consistently the lowest in price. 
This rule applies to the different 
kinds of things bought, and to 
the different kinds of stores, in- 
cluding discount houses. 


Mrs. A is a "bargain shopper," can- 
not resist a sale, and buys sale mer- 
chandise whether products are used 
by family or not. She never reads the 
labels on packages to determine 
weight and content, buys on impulse, 
buys because she thinks she is making 
a big saving for the family budget, 
yet never seems to have on hand just 
what is needed. 

Mrs. B never reads sale advertise- 
ments, goes only to one market and 
buys as the need arises regardless 
of the cost, and usually has a hard 
time in stretching her money to meet 
her family's needs. 

Mrs. C is aware of what is needed 
and what is used by her family, 
checks advertised specials, and com- 
pares prices of products used by her 
family. She plans menus ahead, so 
makes fewer shopping trips, antic- 
ipates needs of family and takes ad- 
vantage of special savings, checks 
labels of competitive products, so is 
able to recognize a saving, knows what 
she is buying and, with careful plan- 
ning and wise buying, her budget 


Mrs. D reads advertisements, checks 
bargains, and goes to each store to 
buy them, and spends four hours 
and a half-tank of gasohne in "hunt- 
ing" sale merchandise. 

Who is the wisest? Discuss and 
evaluate each of the four pro- 


It is indeed easy to spend 
money, but it takes time and 
effort to spend it wisely. Few 
families have so much money 
that they can afford not to spend 
it wisely. By spending thought 
and time in buying, they may 
add to the goods and services 

they are able to have. We are 
told to ''waste not; want not." 
Spending more money than is 
necessary is a form of waste. 


Discuss with the sisters the 
following: When buying, try dif- 
ferent brands, or unbranded 
products that cost less, to see if 
they aren't as satisfactory for the 
purpose for which they are to be 
used as the articles that cost 
more. Do comparative buying to 
see how much can be saved. Com- 
pare prices of identical branded 
products in different stores. 


Dorothy J. Roberts 

As wind wakes from the autumn doorstep, 
Wheeling toward evening in a pirouette 
And southward on a threnody of wings, 
Leaving with a cry, but to return to a song; 

As moon, spring's rover, must midnight. 
By midnight, watch the winter field 
Till snow thins to cluny lace 
On the clods of April's hunger, 

And as hour on hour, must light move 
Up from the cycle of slumber 
Toward the dark horizon of the dawn, 
And night give way to the unfettering sun, 

In mimic, oh, my striving year. 

Let lilies leap from the alpine weather 

As feet of frost cross glacier 

And soles walk the summer of sod. 


APRIL 1966 


Alda L. Brown 

Blithe canary! 
My yellow bird of spring! 
Golden is the merry note 
From lilted throat you sing! 

We share a rendezvous with May- 
One trysted hour with dawn. . . . 
From lilac-scented bough you flay 
A roundelay of song! 

I will miss you, yellow bird, 
When gilded petals close. 
No longer will you sip 
From dew-filled cup. Unheard 
Will be your rush of wing. . . . 
So silent will my morning sing 
When summer goes. . . . 



Cedar Crest Boys Ranch provides 
a professional staff dedicated to 
the physical. spiritual and social 
development of boys 8 thru 16 

iKated 6 miles from Manti Utah 
at the edge of beautiful and rug- 
ged Manti La Sal National Forest 
and adjoining Palisade State 
Boating Park 

For further Information write Cedar Crest Boys Ranch 
PO box 8093 Salt Uke City Utah 84108 


Do Your Children 
Know What To Do 
With Love? 

Give Your Children 
the LDS answer by 
providing them with 

their copy of "What Shall We 
Do With Love" by Ernest 
Eberhard Jr. Written for teen- 
agers, by a Church youth edu- 
cator, with thirty years of ex- 
perience, It covers the whole 
problem from a positive, youth- 
oriented point of view. 

(5th printing) $3.25 
at all LDS bookstores or order 

Bfrom Bookcraft, 
1186 South Main, 
Salt Lake City, Utah 




April 18, 1966 


April 21, 1966 

Ship one way 

April 27, 1966 

Flying both ways 


June 12, 1966 
Flying both ways 

Canadian and New England 
States Tour 


Pageant Tours 

Margaret Lund Tours 

110 East 2nd South 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84111 

382-8981 - 467-5763 - 485-2444 




A sure way of keeping alive the valuable in- 
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. 

1600 Empire Road, Salt Lake City, Utah 84104 
Phone 486-1892 

Cloth Cover — $3.25; Leather Cover — $5.25 

Yearly Index Included 

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 



Zone 1 and 2 55 

Zone 3 60 

Zone 4 65 

Zone 5 80 

Zone 6 
Zone 7 
Zone 8 




Cardston and Idaho Falls 

June 17, 1966 

Time for those who wish to 
go to temples 

'.• >]' * J^C * 1(! 

Hawaiian Lei Day Tour 

April 23 - May 8 

Northwest Tour 

June 25 — July 2 

Hill Cumorah Tours 

July 1966 

Summer Paradise 

Hawaiian Tour 

July 23 

Black Hills Passion Play Tour 

August 21 

New England— Canadian 

Fall Tour 

September 3 

James Travel Tours 

460 7th Avenue 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84103 

Phones: 363-5229 — 359-8051 

Two great Murdock Tours for YOU 

1. Highlights of Europe Tour 

Departs June 9th 

This personally escorted and all- 
expense-paid tour of Europe is de- 
signed to please the most fastidious 
traveler and to give him the" best of 
Europe in 21 days. You'll miss none of 
the really important places and sights 
and always enjoy the finest accom- 
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Deports July 12th 

Fly SAS DC-8 Jet Express to 
Scandinavia for 22 days of sheer en- 
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MURDOCK TRAVEL, INC. 14 South Main/Salt Lake (ity, Utah. Dept. A 
Please send information on: 

Q Highlights of Europe Tour Q Vikinglands Tour 


Address • 



R.S. Apr. '66 



yXJk Mrs. Anna Glackmyre Agee 
lU'l Mora, Minnesota 

Iflfl '^''^" "^^"^^^ Rogers Piatt 


Granger, Utah 

Mrs. Catherine Heggie Griffiths 
Clarkston, Utah 

Mrs. Christine Peterson Nielson 


Alberta, Canada 

Mrs. Olena Maria Petersen Larson 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

QTMrs. Albertha Fransiska Nielson Hatch 


Riverton, Wyoming 

Mrs. Alice Collins Frost 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Rachel Middleton Jensen 
Ogden, Utah 

ftrMrs. Mary Ann Limb Young 
SuManti, Utah 

Mrs. Sarah Jones Harman 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

QAMrs. Lisania Knight Brimhall 
94 Mesa, Arizona 

Mrs. Bernice Lindquist 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Camilla Winget Magleby 
Monroe, Utah 

Mrs. Julia Ann Rebecca Smith Anell 
Jacksonville, Florida 

Mrs. Leiia Marquess Ferrell 
Hopkinsville, Kentucky 

QJMrs. Lucy Maude Bliss Walsh 
wLBakersfield, California 

Mrs. Sarah Humphreys Passey 
Thayne, Wyoming 

Mrs. Daisy Deen Larson 
Idaho Falls, Idaho 

Mrs. Sena Simmons Curtis 
Moroni, Utah 

Ql Mrs. Mary Ann Tuck 
81 Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Johanna Elzinga Hand 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Amy Louise Fletcher Bailey 
Fort Collins, Colorado 

Mrs. Mary Luella Higbee Schnebly 
Farmington, New Mexico 

Mrs. Celestia Ashcroft Rogers 
Logan, Utah 

Mrs. Emma Bohman Webb 
Provo, Utah 

AAMrs. Emma Margaret Stocking Holt 
3U Murray, Utah 

Mrs. Sarah Jacobena Jensen Fenton 
Salt Lake City, Utah 

Mrs. Maude Marie Boshard Jefferies 
North Hollywood, California 

Mrs. Ida May Taylor Flinders 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Lottie Sherwood Baker 
St. Johns, Arizona 

Mrs. Margaret Robson Brown 
Ogden, Utah 

Mrs. Una Selma Stock Nestler 
Salt Lake City, Utah 








By top I6s AuthoRS 

As Translated Correctly, by Mark E. Petersen $2.50 

Here is a new and exciting discussion of Bible trans- 
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ary Church writer, a member of the Quorum of the Twelve. 
Taking as his theme the Article of Faith reading: "We 
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is translated correctly," Elder Petersen goes on to present 
a thorough and well documented analysis of the Bible as 
it has been translated in various ages. Facts surrounding 
the Prophet Joseph Smith's inspired but incomplete trans- 
lation are included. Other popular Mark E. Petersen books include; Our 
Moral Challenge; One Lord, One Faith; Toward a Better Life; and Guide to a 
Happy Marriage. 

Who Am I?, by Alvin R. Dyer $4.95 

The crucial three questions of all investigators of truth 
are. Who am I? Where did I come from? and Where am I 
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explains the meaning of earth-life existence from the basic 
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author, an Assistant to the Council of the Twelve, has done 
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at Salt Lake City, Utah 

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And that care includes looking ahead to children's needs in the future . . .to unanticipated 
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'-\^i>^''- M^/&M'^'' ' 


Volume 53 Number 

MAY 1966 


.t-^^c. h'^- 









Marilyn McMeen Miller 

One grasps more than a century 

In this grove. 

The trees are tall, for the years have sung ages 

Behind the deep bark 

And the sun has tumbled down measures of gold 

Since once on a spring day 

He knelt here — ^the Prophet boy 

Soft on his knees, far from the desert 

Of tongues and confusion: 

Until the truth came 

Like a spin of soft rain 
To quench a fervent thirst. 

Some spot of quiet sun 

In each world-heart matches the gold 

In this grove. 

If there is peace, it spreads like 

All-nourishing essence of life 

From this place — 

Tall, quiet, and hovering sti 

Sweet remembrance 

a warm, 

m the 

The Cover: 


Art Layout: 

Coral Morning on Mount Olympus, Utah 
Transparency by Dorothy J. Roberts 
Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

The Sacred Grove, New York 
Courtesy, Church Information Service 

Dick Scopes 

Mary Scopes 


I have been reading our wonderful 
Magazine for seventeen years, and love 
every issue. Now I am a ward represen- 
tative and take great pleasure in order- 
ing and placing the Magazine in as 
many homes as possible. I so much en- 
joyed reading the conference address 
by President Belle S. Spafford, "The 
Blessings of Experience" (November 
1965); ahd "Teaching the Gospel," by 
President Joseph Fielding Smith (Janu- 
ary 1966). These addresses are so up- 
lifting to us all in these troubled times. 
Margaret L. Dickinson 
Oroville, California 

Every time I pick up a copy of our 
choice Magazine and read the beautiful 
and wholesome contents, I thank God 
for my heritage. What a blessing to be 
able to read, to have at my fingertips 
words of comfort, inspiration, strength, 
and encouragement. But this is not all. 
The short stories and poems feed that 
part of my soul which yearns for ex- 
pression and understanding. I am 
thankful for the Magazine. I am in 
love with it. 

Phillis L. Grayson 
Hunter, Utah 

I am thankful to have had the pleasure 
of receiving The Relief Society Maga- 
zine, which has been ordered as a gift 
to me three times by the mother of the 
missionary who converted and baptized 
me four and a half years ago. The 
Magazine has been a great help to me 
in many ways, in my callings as litera- 
ture class leader, first counselor, and 
secretary-treasurer in our branch. The 
Magazine has helped me to understand 
and live the gospel better. It has helped 
me to read and speak English. It 
thrilled me when I saw a picture from 
Switzerland on the cover and one in- 
side the Magazine. 

Margrit Stauffer Kuhn 

Baldwin Park, California 

(formerly of Solothurn, Switzerland) 

I must tell you how much I appreciate 
the Magazine, especially now that we 
are 7,000 miles away from home, and 
our only contact with the Church is by 
mail. There are three families of us here 
and since the other two sisters work, I 
have invited them to join with me two 
Sunday evenings a month to study the 
Relief Society lessons. It might seem 
difficult for Statesiders to understand 
how we hunger for the gospel, and we 
have been on Saipan only three 
months. My husband reads The Chil- 
dren's Friend from cover to cover, as 
well as The Relief Society Magazine. 
Reading Dorothy Roberts' poem "Tem- 
ple Spires" in the February Magazine 
made me come into the bedroom and 
lock the door so our maid wouldn't see 
me cry. It still remains a thrill to see 
something I have written published. I 
love Mary Scopes' illustrations. 

Janet Breeze 


Mariana Islands 

I would like to express my appreciation 
for The Relief Society Magazine. I have 
just finished reading the December 
Magazine (with lessons for March) 
from cover to cover. I have been teach- 
ing school for the past eight years, 
and so have been unable to attend 
Relief Society meetings, but now 
meetings are being held for the work- 
ing sisters on Sunday morning, while 
the Priesthood meetings are being 

Eloise McBride 
Blackfoot, Idaho 

I had occasion to lend four issues of 
The Relief Society Magazine to some 
nonmember friends. The man had 
emergency surgery, and I thought his 
wife would like something to read 
while she waited. Both the husband 
and the wife commented on the won- 
derful stories, poems, color pictures, 
and how the lesson material had given 
them a new insight concerning Latter- 
day Saint beliefs. 

Mrs. Dorothy Erickson 
Mt. Carroll, Illinois 


The Relief Society Magazine 

Volume 53 May 1966 Number 5 

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

Special Features 

324 Three Women Celestia J. Taylor 

329 Literary Contest Announcements 1966 

338 Resembling Mother Pearle M. Olsen 

341 Thoughts of a Latter-day Saint Mother Leah Green 

342 A Letter: To Daughter From Mother Lydia Parker 
374 Magazine Honor Roll for 1965 Marianne C. Sharp 


332 The Old Stove Lael J. Littke 

346 Washday Blues Frances C. Yost 

366 Wheat for the Wise — Chapter 5 Margery S. Stewart 

General Features 

322 From Near and Far 

343 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

344 Editorial: Young Women in Relief Society Louise W. Madsen 
387 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities 

400 Birthday Congratulations 

The Home - Inside and Out 

351 Freezer Time Means Free Time Joyce B. Bailey 

353 Look for the Small Clues Kaye T. Roberts 

356 Bulletin June F. Krambule 

358 Much of Worth — The Relief Society Magazine Mabel L. Anderson 

360 Cousins Genevieve Van Wagenen 

363 A Pod Full of Peas Helen Hinckley Jones 

364 Spring Dream Salad Dressing Ida A. Isaacson 

365 Ismilda England — Expert With Crochet Hook and Quilting Needle 
386 Time of Farewell Leora Larsen 

Lesson Department 

394 Work Meeting — Clothing Care Adds to Wear Margaret P. Childs 


321 Place of Prayer Marilyn McMeen Miller 

Memories, Catherine B. Bowles, 328; My Neighbor, Dorothy J. Roberts, 331; A Garden, Vera 
R. Holden, 331; Claim for Mercy, Christie Lund Coles, 337; Journal of Marriage, Vesta 
Nickerson Fairbairn, 339; Susquehanna River Valley, Alice Morrey Bailey, 340; The Match- 
less Role, Bertha A. Kleinman, 349; Meadow Flowers, Norma A. Wrathall, 350; Afterglow, 
Zara Sabin, 352; Unto Others, Maude O. Cook, 355; To One Away, Enola Chamberlin, 359; 
Memories in May, Annie Atkin Tanner, 373; Blossomtime, Eva Willes Wangsgaard, 386; 
From the Sea to the Shell, Bernice Ames, 396; Seasonal, Gayla Ann Larsen, 397; Sister- 
Talk, Rowena Jensen Bills, 397; Sunlit Canyon, Ethel Jacobson, 398. 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints. ® 1966 by the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main 
Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone 364-2511; Subscription Price $2.00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c 
a copy, payable in advance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers can be sup- 
plied. 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 Oc- 
tober 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 ior unsolicited manu- 

Three Women 

Celestia J. Taylor Member, 

General Board of 

& Relief Society 

■ Fortunate is the child who is 
reared under the guidance of a 
good mother; doubly fortunate is 
one who also comes under the in- 
fluence of a noble grandmother; 
but even more blessed is one who 
has the wise guidance of a second 
loving, wonderful grandmother. 
The realization that my life has 
been thus blessed has filled me 
with a deep sense of responsibility 
for a debt that can never be fully 
paid. I acknowledge this debt in 
gratitude and humility and with 
a feeling of joy and pride in the 
heritage which is responsible for 

In retrospect, the measure of 
the influence of my mother and 
my two grandmothers upon my 
life has been infinite. Each one 
has exerted particular forces in 
certain individual ways which 
have worked to my benefit. A 
brief, but candid, glimpse into 
the lives of each of the three may 
reveal something of the meaning 
and depth of the debt which each 
of us, as women, owes to those 
who have nurtured us and en- 

dowed us with the true virtues of 

In some ways, in the memories 
of my very early childhood, my 
Grandmother Nash — "Grandma" 
always to me — stands out even 
more vividly than does my 
mother. I can explain this per- 
haps best by saying that because 
Mother was always there to be 
with and to come home to, I must 
have just taken her for granted; 
though I know now that without 
her through all my life, I would 
have been lost. 

In order to place my Grand- 
mother Nash in a proper perspec- 
tive, it is necessary that I give 
some of the essential facts of her 
life as they were written down by 
her eldest daughter: 

In Nashville, Tennessee, in the year 
1842, Rhoda Young McNicol was born 
to Alexander and Mary Ann Vance 
McNicol, the youngest child of four. 
She was reared in an environment 
almost inconceivable to her posterity 
— amid an ease of living and luxurious 
surroundings. . . . 

There was no memory of the father 
who died during the infancy of this 



child, and the mother and her family 
of four small girls were taken to the 
home of the dear Grandfather, Lewis 
Vance, a wealthy plantation owner, 
where they remained a number of 
years. . . . 

Then the gospel found them, and 
the entire family was converted to 
Mormonism. Lewis Vance sold his 
beautiful plantation. They said good- 
bye to the old home and started west- 
ward to join the saints. The journey 
was suspended at Council Bluffs, and 
the winter brought the terrible scourge 
of cholera among the travelers, taking 
a toll of two from this party. Lewis 
Vance and a daughter succumbed to 
the disease, and were left by the way- 
side. In 1852, the survivors resumed 
the long trek westward. Rhoda, the 
youngest, was too small to walk the 
entire distance and was permitted to 
take turns riding on the back of the 
family cow ... at the rear of the 
company, which was commanded by 
Captain John Tidwell, who led his 
band of faithful followers into the 
beautiful valley of the Great Salt 
Lake, in 1852. Later, the family moved 
to Alpine, Utah County, then known 
as Mountainville, where they made 
a permanent residence. . . . 

On September 23, 1863, Rhoda was 
married to Ephraim Nash . . . and a 
year later they received their endow- 
ments and were sealed in the old En- 
dowment House in Salt Lake City. 

I can hardly think of Grandma 
Nash without thinking of her 
home, which she loved so dearly. 
It was a brick structure of typical 
Victorian style, three stories high, 
and comprising sixteen rooms all 
furnished richly and completely 
with every comfort and luxury 
which was available at that time. 
How I loved that house of Grand- 
ma's. I knew every corner of it 
more intimately than I knew our 
own Alpine home. 

Grandma was an immaculate 
housekeeper; there was order not 
only in every room in her house 
but also on every shelf and in 
every drawer. It seems to me 

now, as I look back in nostalgic 
remembrance, that her home was 
a haven of perfection and peace. 
This, I know, is partly a roman- 
tic projection growing out of my 
childhood impressions, but, never- 
theless, a very real one to me. 

Something I can never forget 
was her sitting room just off her 
bedroom, where she did her hand- 
work. A glimpse into the drawers 
of her cabinets revealed rows and 
rows of variegated assortments 
of thread, embroidery floss, and 
yarn, all arranged in graduated 
color schemes from the palest 
tints to the deepest hues. To me, 
as a child, they were a fascinating 
sight. And her needlework was 
something to see. Her beautiful 
handmade quilts, rugs, and af- 
ghans; her exquisite hand em- 
broidery; her peerless knitting 
and crocheting; her intricate pat- 
terns of featherstitching and 
piecework; her handloomed car- 
pets and fabrics — all these and 
more testified of her talent as an 
artist in these skills. 

Although Grandma was far 
more than domestic in her tastes 
and inclinations, in her kitchen 
she was perfection itself. I can 
still see her drawing from the 
oven a batch of fragrant bread or 
a pan of yeast biscuits, high and 
incredibly light; or see her rolling 
out the dough for her pies which, 
except for those my mother 
baked from the same recipe and 
method, have never been equaled 
in my experience. Her wonderful 
breads, pies, and cakes often 
found their way into the homes 
of her neighbors and friends in 
need. Hardly a day went by that 
did not see her taking something 
to someone. 

I never saw her at work in her 


MAY 1966 

kitchen when she was not sing- 
ing; in fact, I can hardly think of 
her without hearing her singing. 
Sometimes a note of sadness ema- 
nated from her songs, but what- 
ever her mood, she expressed it 
in some kind of singing. Some- 
times she merely hummed, but 
always I remember her with 
music in her heart. She knew 
from memory and dearly loved all 
the favorite Church hymns, and 
it was from hearing her sing them 
that I learned most of them my- 
self. Her voice had a low, vibrant 
quality that had a penetrating 
effect upon my senses. Whenever 
I hear the words of King Lear in 
Shakespeare's great tragedy, 
*'Her voice was ever soft, /Gentle, 
and low — ; an excellent thing in 
woman," I always think of my 
Grandmother Nash. 

I think it must have been her 
gift of song which lent a buoy- 
ancy to her spirit to lift it up in 
spite of sorrows which could 
easily have destroyed a less in- 
domitable character. Not from 
her did I hear the story of the loss 
of five beautiful children — four 
daughters and one son — within 
the space of six months from 
diphtheria. And not from her did 
I know that the sorrow was hers 
of having a young, talented, hand- 
some son turn to the enticements 
of drink and literally destroy him- 
self. These and many other trials 
seemed to have made her the 
stronger in the bearing of them. 
There was never any wavering in 
her faith. She was possessed of a 
strong, personal testimony which 
kept her close to the Church and 
true to its principles as long as 
she lived. 

My association with my Grand- 
mother Johnson was not so in- 

timate, nor did it extend over so 
long a period as with my Grand- 
mother Nash, but what time I 
did spend with her was no less re- 
warding in many ways. 

I think that probably no two 
women were less alike than they 
were, and yet, each in her own 
way, was endowed with the high- 
est quahties of intellect and char- 
acter. I never thought to compare 
them. I loved them both, and 
they loved each other. Both lived 
at varying times in our home, and 
several times they were there to- 
gether, and at such times their 
sincere affection and respect for 
each other were evident. Accord- 
ing to family records: 

Susan Adeline Holman was the fifth 
child of James Sawyer and Naomi 
Roxannia LeBaron Holman, She was 
born on the 7th of October, 1841, at 
Nauvoo, Illinois. Her parents were 
early-day members of the Church. . . . 
They were living in Nauvoo when the 
Prophet was martyred, and to escape 
further trouble moved to Mt. Pisgah, 
Iowa, where the father stayed long 
enough to . . . get his family settled, 
and then left his wife and small chil- 
dren there in the summer of 1847 as 
he started out with a herd of sheep, 
the first to cross the plains and reach 
Salt Lake. He walked the entire way, 
assisted only by a small boy who rode 
a horse. 

In the summer of 1848 . . . Susan's 
mother prepared to start with the 
Saints to cross the plains, with a 
thirteen-year-old son to drive their 
three yoke of cattle. Susan was seven 
years old that sunmier. Her father 
came to meet them and they arrived 
in Salt Lake in October, safe and well, 
despite the many hardships. 

Then came the real test for Susan 
as she and her young brother herded 
their father's sheep over the hills in 
their bare feet, glad to have a supper 
of sego roots when they got home. 
She never forgot seeing her father go 
off to work to be gone all day with 
only a cup of milk to do him until he 
returned at night; and seeing her 



mother treading up and down on her 
spinning wheel all day and often into 
the night with tears streaming down 
her face. 

About the year 1850, Susan's father 
. . . joined his interests to those of 
Benjamin Franklyn Johnson ... a 
[former] close friend and intimate 
associate of the Prophet Joseph Smith. 
This was the beginning of a close asso- 
ciation between the Holman and 
Johnson families. . . . 

Susan was married to Benjamin 
Johnson. Their son was my father. 

I well remember Grandmother 
Johnson — her sweetness, her gen- 
tleness; I remember her insatiable 
curiosity about life and her zest 
for it. I remember her quaint but 
penetrating sense of humor, which 
made every association with her 
a time of fun. I never knew her in 
her own home, but I do know that 
she always brought much pleasure 
to ours. She was an avid gene- 
alogist, and much of her time 
when she was in Utah was spent 
doing work in the Salt Lake 
Temple. A feeling of warmth and 
tenderness wells up in me when- 
ever I think of my dear, sweet 
Grandma Johnson. 

How can I begin to describe my 
mother, Deseret (Dessie) Nash 
Johnson — the dearest to me of 
these three women who have 
played so great a part in my life? 
Though she has been gone from 
us for over seven years, the mem- 
ory of her is so strongly imprinted 
upon my heart and mind that I 
feel her presence in a very real 
sense. The passing years, some- 
how, cannot diminish the vi- 
brance of her spirit. Maybe be- 
cause of this very fact, it is diffi- 
cult for me to put her into words 
— to interpret for others the real 
person that she was. 

That realness began and ended 
in the indomitable but simple 

faith which pervaded every part 
of her life. She loved her Heaven- 
ly Father and she communed 
with him. Whenever she wanted 
something, she prayed for it, and 
accepted the answer — her impli- 
cit faith was as uncomplicated as 
that. She loved the Presidents of 
the Church, in turn, as she knew 
them, and she evidenced her de- 
votion by her continuous activity 
in the various organizations of 
the Church from her early child- 
hood to the end of her life. She 
served her community almost as 
well as she did her Church, but 
never to the detriment of her 

My mother was a wonderful 
cook. I never tasted anything in 
my life that she fixed for us that 
I didn't like. Nothing in my ex- 
perience has diminished my be- 
lief that she was the best cook in 
the world. My mother was also 
an excellent seamstress. She made 
nearly everything that my sisters 
and I wore, and we always felt 
that we were as well-dressed as 
any of our friends. Her taste, her 
originality, her ability to achieve 
the special effect we wanted, 
made us dissatisfied with any- 
thing else. 

Her fine traits of character — 
including her complete honesty, 
her courage in meeting any prob- 
lem or adverse situation, her un- 
concern for wordly pursuits or 
social prestige, except where she 
could be of service to her friends 
and her community, her unpre- 
tentiousness, her dislike for sham, 
pretense or any pettiness — ^where 
these might be abstract general- 
ities in some, in her they were 
concrete and genuine qualities. 

She had a great love for the 
out-of-doors, and she made a 


MAY 1966 

garden spot wherever she made that she, Hke all of us, was not 

her home. Even in her late perfection. She would be the last 

seventies, she spent many hours one to gloss over her faults or 

planting and transplanting her magnify her goodness. But even 

choice shrubs and flowers. Her her weaknesses, and her recogni- 

houseplants she cherished all her tion of them, became a source of 

life, and some of them she dated strength to me. 
back to her own mother's collec- These are three women in the 

tion, kept alive by succeeding background of my life whose 

cuttings and transplan tings. qualities of courage and strength 

My mother was a natural I can only attempt to approxi- 

storyteller, and she loved to sit mate, but it is my duty and my 

with us, her children, and tell responsibility to try to make the 

stories — some which she made up attempt. My background is not 

for us out of a vivid imagination unique; it is duplicated in the 

and many which were fragments lives of many other Latter-day 

out of her own life. "Once upon a Saint women. Every woman, as 

time . . ." I first heard these she takes her place in each suc- 

words intoned by her so long ago ceeding generation, has a respon- 

that they are beyond the point of sibility to those who follow her. 

recollection, but the magic of The only way any of us can ful- 

these four little words has cast a fill this great responsibility and 

spell over my life and I still can acknowledge the great debt we 

project myself into that wonder- owe is to pattern our lives so that 

ful world of enchantment with our own children and grandchil- 

nostalgic delight and yearning. dren may, in turn, receive the 

My mother was all these things benefits and blessings which are 

and more to me; and yet I know their rightful heritage. 


Catherine B. Bowles 

A radiant liglit still glows 
Along the byways as I roam — 
A narrow winding pathway 
That leads me back to home. 

With bowed head§ by the table 
Sat my parents old and worn, 
Giving thanks for all their blessings — 
For the children they had borne. 

Father's hands were scarred and shaky, 
Gently placed upon my head — 
Then all aches and pains would vanish 
As he stood beside my bed. 

Now those memories linger, 
And though I journey late, 
I feel protective counsel 
To make my pathway straight. 


Literary Contest Announcements 1966 

The Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest and the ReHef Society Short Story 
Contest are conducted annually by the General Board of Relief 
Society to stimulate creative writing among Latter-day Saint wom- 
en 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 winning of an award in one of them in no 
way precludes winning in the other. 

Eliza R. Snoifv^ Poem Contest 

■ The EHza R. Snow Poem Con- 
test opens with this announce- 
ment and closes August 15, 1966. 
Prizes will be awarded as follows : 

First prize $40 

Second prize $30 

Third prize $20 

Prize poems will be published 
in the January 1967 issue of The 
Relief Society Magazine (the 
birth month of Eliza R. Snow). 

Prize-winning poems become 
the property of the Relief Society 
General Board and may not be 
published by others except upon 
written permission from the Gen- 
eral Board. The General Board 
reserves the right to publish any 
of the other poems submitted, 
paying for them at the time of 
publication at the regular Maga- 
zine rates. 
Rules for the contest: 

1. This contest is open to all Latter- 
day Saint women, exclusive of mem- 
bers of the Relief Society General 
Board and employees of the Relief 
Society General Board. 

2. Only one poem may be submitted 
by ^ach contestant. 

3. The poem must not exceed fifty 
lines and should be typewritten, if pos- 
sible. Where this cannot be done, it 
should be legibly written. Only one 
side of the paper is to be used. (A 
duplicate copy of the poem should be 
retained by contestants to insure 
against loss.) 

4. The sheet on which the poem is 
written is to be without signature or 
other identifying marks. 

5. No explanatory material or pic- 
ture is to accompany a poem. 

6. Each poem is to be accompanied 
by a stamped envelope on which is 
written the contestant's name and ad- 
dress. Nom de plumes are not to be 

7. A signed statement is to accom- 
pany the poem submitted certifying: 

a. That the author is a member of 
The Church of Jesus Christ of 
Latter-day Saints. 

b. That the poem (state title) is 
the contestant's original work. 

c. That is has never been published. 

d. That it is not in the hands of 
an editor or other person with a 
view to publication. 

e. That it will not be published nor 
submitted elsewhere for publica- 
tion until the contest is decided. 

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


MAY 1966 

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 purpose 
of the poem 

e. Climax 

10. Entries must he postmarked not 
later than August 15, 1966. 

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 1966 opens with this 
announcement and closes August 
15, 1966. 

The prizes this year will be as 

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 1967. 
Prize-winning stories become the 
property of the Relief Society 
General Board and may not be 
published by others except upon 
written permission from the Gen- 
eral Board. The General Board 
reserves the right to publish any 
of the other stories entered in the 
contest, paying for them at the 
time of pubUcation 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 words must 
appear on the first page of the man- 
uscript. (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 not be published nor submit- 



ted elsewhere for publication submitted to a specially selected com- 

until the contest is decided. mittee for final decision. 

6. No explanatory material or pic- In evaluating the stories, considera- 
ture is to accompany the story. tion will be given to the following 

7. A writer who has received the points: 

first prize for two consecutive years a. Characters and their presenta- 

must wait for two years before she is tion 

again eligible to enter the contest. b. Plot development 

8. The judges shall consist of one c. Message of the story 
member of the General Board, one d. Writing style 

person from the English department 9. Entries must be postmarked not 

of an educational institution, and one later than August 15, 1966. 

person who is a recognized writer. In 10. All entries are to be addressed 

case of complete disagreement among to Relief Society Short Story Contest, 

the judges, all stories selected for a 76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 

place by the various judges will be 84111. 


Dorothy J. Roberts 

Each spring I fear no furrow 
May stripe his field again, 
Age let the ground lie fallow, 
Spring be a stranger, then. 

Each spring I scan his garden — 
Where the fall was neatly burned- 
Praying his palms may harden 
And a furrow again be turned. 

Knowing that sometime winter 
Will walk a wanton way, 
And the striving seed of summer 
No longer line the day. . . . 

Then I see fresh earth toppling, 
White gulls a queue on wing. 
And on his plow, triumphant, 
My harbinger of spring! 


Vera R. Holden 
Reddish, Stockport, Cheshire, England 

If I had just a tiny plot, 

I'd make a lovely bower. 

I'd plant it with forget-me-nots, 

And every modest flower. 

Kind hearts should bloom upon the trees; 

Much laughter I would sow 

With happy thoughts borne on the breeze, 

And nothing sad could grow. 

And as I gathered — everywhere 

I'd scatter loving seeds. 

For these would be my roses rare. 

And unkind things the weeds. 


Lael J. Littke 








■ Is that all there is to it? 
thought Martha, gazing at the 
papers spread in front of her on 
the kitchen table. You put your 
signature on a few official-look- 
ing documents, and then the land 
you'd lived on and worked and 
loved for so many years was no 
longer yours. By a few scribbles 
of a pen she had transferred to 
someone else a house, most of 
which they had built themselves, 
a house in which they had 
brought up the family, a house 
whose every corner was full of 

"I believe I understand every- 
thing now, Bert," she said to the 
man who stood by the table. Her 
voice was calm in spite of the 
thoughts which tore at her heart. 
"The lawyer explained every- 
thing pretty well the other day 
when we signed these papers." 

Bert Randall nodded. "I guess 
that's all then, Mrs. Nelson. 
Those are your papers. I've got 
mine at home." Bert looked 
around Martha's big kitchen, 
bare now except for the table at 
which she sat, four chairs, her 
sewing machine in its place by 

the big windows, and the old 
black coal range. 

"Dorothy and I are going to 
enjoy this place, Mrs. Nelson," 
he said. "Seems as if we've been 
crammed into little places ever 
since we were married. And the 
kids will love the farm." 

"I'm sure they will." Martha 
wished he would go. She didn't 
want to think about someone else 
living in her home. 

Bert glanced once more around 
the room. "This kitchen seems 
so homey," he said. "Guess it's 
the old stove there." 

Martha said nothing. 

Bert shuffled his feet. "I'd 
better get along. Best of every- 
thing to you, Mrs. Nelson. Must 
be hard to sell your place." He 
went out, and the kitchen door 
squeaked shut behind him. 

I've got to oil that hinge again, 
thought Martha automatically. 
Then she remembered that she 
wouldn't be around to hear it 
squeak any more. The farm was 

Sold. What a hard, chilly word. 
How could it be sold, something 
that seemed so much a part of 



herself? How could you sell the 
view of the mountains? What 
was the value of the gullies where 
her boys had pursued imaginary 
Indians, or the apple tree under 
which her daughters had tended 
their families of dolls? What price 
would you place on the forty- 
three years of toil and hope and 
tears and happiness she and Jim 
had put into the land? 

Her thoughts were interrupted 
by commotion on the stairs. 

"Be careful," she heard Rick 
caution. "This old bureau has 
been safe up there for at least 
half a century. Let's not ruin it 

She heard Jeff laugh. "It's my 
leg that's about to be ruined," 
he said. "It may not be as old as 
this bureau, but I'm quite at- 
tached to it." 

Both of her sons laughed, then 
resumed their hazardous trip 
down the stairs. Soon they ap- 
peared at the bottom, their faces 
red and perspiring as they carried 
the unwieldy bureau, which had 
been part of Martha's first bed- 
room set, out to the waiting truck. 

"They sure built things soHd 
in the early days. Mother," Jeff 

Beth and Laura came down- 
stairs carrying boxes loaded with 
dolls and other childhood treas- 

"My younger children will 
have a regular celebration when 
I bring these things home," said 
Laura. "Even the older ones may 
be interested. They have all loved 
to play with these things when 
they visited Grandma." 

Beth put down her box and 
pulled out a doll with an old- 
fashioned, brightly painted china 
face and stiffly neat hair. 

"I don't think I'll give Flora 

to my girls," she said. "I think 

I'll save her for my grandchil- 

Martha smiled, remembering 
Beth as a romantic-minded little 
girl whose dearest possession had 
been Flora, the doll which her 
own grandmother had given her. 

"I'd better stop being lazy and 
come up and help," Martha said. 

Laura shook her head. "You 
stay here. Mother. We have to get 
everything all sorted and just 
have to carry it down. Then there 
is this kitchen stuff and we're all 

Martha dutifully sat down. As 
a matter of fact, she was tired. 
For the past two days she and 
her sons and daughters had been 
cleaning out closets and sorting 
through the collected treasures 
of forty-three years. Today they 
had brought the truck to carry 
away what couldn't be hauled in 
their cars. Today was the last 
day on the old place. 

She was glad that her children 
could come to help. They had 
arranged to leave their jobs and 
their families for a few days and 
gather for the last time at the 
old house to help her move. 
Martha knew she couldn't have 
faced it alone, either the physical 
labor or the emotional strain. It 
didn't seem to bother her chil- 
dren. They seemed so cheerful, 
as if this were some sort of lark. 
They had laughed their way 
through old school papers and 
pictures and had unemotionally 
discarded mementos of their 
childhoods. But then they were 
grown people now. Jeff was an 
engineer and Rick a journalist. 


MAY 1966 

Beth and Laura were both mar- 
ried to successful businessmen. 
They all had homes and families 
of their own and didn't need 
their old things. 

Martha looked around her 
sunny kitchen. The windows were 
bare without the bright gera- 
niums which had always bloomed 
there. They were now in the city, 
crowded onto the sill of the small 
kitchen windows of her new little 
apartment, all jammed together 
where they didn't fit, just as she 
soon would be also transplanted 
to a strange place. 

Her glance continued around 
the room, lingering on the dear 
old treadle-type sewing machine 
which had stitched patches on 
*so many overalls and marched 
along countless yards of material 
transforming it into dresses, or 
quilt tops, or rag rugs. She al- 
most dreaded to look at the old 
cookstove because of the rush of 
memories it would bring and the 
thoughts of leaving it behind, for 
it was too big and ungainly to 
move. Besides, she wouldn't need 
it in the all-electric kitchen of her 
new apartment. 

The old stove had stood there 
in the kitchen for all of Martha's 
married life, not a sleek, lovely 
appliance like the modem stoves, 
but a looming, big, black, friendly 
monster, with warming ovens 
rising above its cooking surface, 
and a reservoir for heating water 
appended to its side, an essen- 
tially unattractive object, yet 
beautiful in its utility. It had six 
lids, and numerous little doors 
tucked here and there for the 
removal of ashes and soot. There 
were levers to adjust the draft 
and a small slot in its side for 
poking up the coals. The capa- 

cious oven had turned out count- 
less meals, and the oven door had 
often served as a place on which 
to sit to warm oneself. 

Bert Randall said it was the 
stove which made the kitchen 
look homey, and he was right. 
Just as the big comfortable kit- 
chen was the heart of the house, 
so the old stove was the heart of 
the kitchen. Around it the family 
had gathered after evening chores 
were done and supper over to 
listen to the radio, or just to talk. 
She could almost see Jim sitting 
there as he had done so many 
years ago, holding a child on his 
lap while he read to the whole 

Where had the years gone? It 
seemed such a short time since 
she and Jim, newly married, had 
started building this house. Now 
Jim was gone, and the house, and 
farm, and the stove were being 
left behind. It was so hard with- 
out Jim. But then, in a way, she 
was glad he had been the first to 
go. Why, what would he have 
done without her to trim his hair 
and cook his meals and tell him 
not to work so hard? 

Martha wiped a hint of mois- 
ture from her eyes and gazed 
again at the old stove. Hirschvo- 
gel, the children had named it 
after Jim had read them the 
fairytale about the old Numberg 
Stove. Old Hirschvogel. It had 
been the first thing she and Jim 
purchased after their marriage. 
They had never had much besides 
the bare necessities, but they had 
gone ahead and been happy and 
reared a family with what they 
had. They had filled their chil- 
dren full of love and homemade 
bread and sent them out to face 



the big world. These farm-bred, 
mountain children had met the 
challenges and had made places 
for themselves in the outside 
world, but they always returned 
whenever they could, to sit by 
the old stove and talk of their 

Fragments of a phrase from an 
old radio program came to Mar- 
tha's mind. Something about a 
stage on which were played a 
thousand dramas daily. "Grand 
Central Station," she recalled. 
Well, there had been a good many 
family dramas enacted right there 
in the kitchen in front of the old 
stove. It was by the stove's warm 
side she and Jim had sat through 
the long night after the telegram 
came saying Jeff was wounded in 
a battle halfway around the 
world. And it was around the 
stove that the family gathered 
the day he returned, pale and 
weak after several months in the 
hospital, but oh, so very much 
alive. Laura's first baby had his 
first bath in a pan on the kitchen 
table close to the warmth of the 
stove, just as his mother before 
had been bathed. It was by the 
old stove that Beth sat the night 
before her wedding and spoke 
reminiscently of her childhood on 
the farm, of her love for her 
horses, for the chuckling creek, 
for the meadows and mountains. 
She had lingered there, softly 
closing the door on her girlhood, 
and then the next morning had 
stood in the same spot, radiant 
and happy, speaking only of her 
love for her Bob. 

Rick had leaned against the 
old stove, troubled and uncertain, 
on the day he had decided to risk 
the operation which would im- 
prove his vision or make him for- 

ever sightless. It was one of the 
first things he had looked at when 
he returned home after a success- 
ful operation. 

The stove was just too much a 
part of her life. It wasn't a thing 
she could part with any more 
than she could uproot and tear 
out all her memories of the past. 
She was going to take old black 
Hirschvogel with her! Perhaps she 
could crowd it into the tiny kit- 
chen of the city apartment. She 
didn't think there was a chimney 
to which to connect it, but at 
least it would be there. Or per- 
haps Jeff would store it in his 
garage. She didn't know what 
Jeff and the others would say. 
Certainly they would try to talk 
her out of it. How could they be 
expected to understand why an 
aging woman wanted an old black 
monstrosity of a stove? There was 
no place in their busy lives and 
shining modern homes for an old 
relic like that. But she was going 
to take it with her so'mehow. 

It wasn't only the big things 
she remembered about the stove 
— it was the little things, too. 
Such as the way it made the kit- 
chen feel on a brisk autumn morn- 
ing. Or how the children popped 
corn on it, pushing the old mesh 
popper back and forth and then 
laughing when the com exploded 
inside. Who could count the baby 
chicks who lived through the first 
precarious days of their lives in 
a box by the warm stove? Then 
there was the dog, Old Sport, and 
the way he used to sneak into the 
house in the winter and slide 
across the floor on his belly to 
hide behind the stove, craftily 
believing he had escaped detec- 


MAY 1966 

Martha's thoughts were in- 
terrupted by the tramping of feet 
on the stairs. 

"That's everything upstairs, 
Mother," Laura said, as she and 
the others appeared, each loaded 
with boxes. 

"We'll be back in a jiffy and 
get this kitchen stuff," said Rick, 
"then we'll be off for the city." 

As they trooped out, Martha 
wondered how she should tell 
them about the stove. The best 
way was just to state she was 
taking it and then stand firm 
against their arguments to the 
contrary, just as she had had to 
stand firm when they were chil- 

She watched as they returned 
and carried out the table, chairs, 
and sewing machine. Then they 
stood by the side of the truck 
talking — probably giving her a 
chance to say goodbye to the 
empty house. 

She went to stand in front of 
the stove when she saw them 
coming into the house. It would 
give her strength to stand by her 
old friend. 

Her four children filed back 
into the kitchen and stood in a 
line in front of her. As she looked 
at them Martha was reminded of 
the children they once had been, 
and the way they used to come 
and line up like that when they 
needed her to help solve some 

Laura cleared her throat. "Mo- 
ther," she said, "you'll probably 
think we are out of our minds." 

The others grinned sheepishly. 

"Mother," Laura continued, 
"It's like this. We all want Old 

They wanted the old stove! 

Before Laura could go on, Beth 

spoke up. "It seems so much a 
part of our childhood that we 
can't leave it. I could probably 
find a place for it in my family 
room. Then my children could 
pop com on it, and I could read 
to them by it as you used to do." 

But it wouldn't mean the same 
to them as it does to you, Martha 
wanted to say. They haven't 
grown up with it. They have their 
own memories. 

"I could use it in my base- 
ment," Laura said. "I'd have to 
take off the reservoir and also the 
warming oven, but I would surely 
like to have it." 

Take off the reservoir and the 
warming oven? It wouldn't be 
the same stove without them. 

It was Jeff's turn to speak. 
"I'd even be willing to store it in 
my garage, just to keep it in the 

"Or maybe you'd like to have 
it in your apartment," Rick said. 
"We could probably figure out 
some way to connect it to a chim- 

Martha looked at her children. 
How could she have thought 
moving out of the old home was 
just a lark to them? They were 
adults now, but their world had 
begun here within these walls, 
and it was as if that particular 
part of the world was ending 
when they had to remove a whole 
lifetime of possessions from the 
house. They were clinging to the 
old stove as an anchor to the past 
just as she was. 

She smiled at them, lined up 
there in front of her. Funny. She 
had never noticed before how the 
last vestiges of childhood clung 
to them, apparent in the vulner- 
able curve of Jeff's cheek, in the 



springiness of Laura^s still pretty 
black hair, the wonder in Beth's 
blue eyes, and in Rick's angel- 
imp grin. It was almost as if they 
were children again, asking for 
her guidance through a problem. 

Martha's eyes misted over for 
a moment and then her vision 
cleared. They weren't children 
any longer, any more than she 
was the young wife and mother 
who had reigned over this par- 
ticular little domain for so long. 

"No," she said briskly, "the 
stove belongs here with the 
house. It has a job to do helping 
to bring up another family. We'll 
take it along, all right, but only in 
memories, just as we'll take along 
your father, the house, the apple 
tree, the mountains, and the good 
times we had here together. Just 
as I'll take a Jong the little chil- 
dren who once lived here. That 
old stove wouldn't be the same 
anywhere else. It would just sit 
around decaying, reminding us of 
how it used to be. We're going to 
live in the present, and we're 
going to let Old Hirschvogel do 
the same." 

The four people before her 
looked at her silently for a mo- 
ment, then they smiled. 

"You're right. Mother," Jeff 
said. He patted the door of the 
warming oven. "You know, I 
envy those Randall kids, growing 
up here." 

Each one of them rubbed some 
part of the old stove before going 
out. Martha was the last to leave. 

"Goodbye," she whispered. She 
looked all around the empty, yet 
memory-filled room and let her 
gaze linger for just a moment on 
the old stove. "Goodbye, Hirsch- 
vogel." She turned and walked 
rapidly through the door, closing 
it squeakily behind her. 

"You noisy old hinge," she said 
under her breath. "That's no way 
to welcome a new family." 

She snatched an oil can from a 
box of things she was leaving for 
Bert Randall, and oiled the com- 
plaining hinge. 

"There," she said, opening and 
closing the now silent door. Then 
she walked down the path to 
where her children waited for her. 

"Let's go," she said. "The lady 
who lives in the apartment next 
to mine said the other day that I 
should come and have dinner 
with her when I got back, and I 
don't want to be too late." 


Christie Lund Coles 

This is my claim for mercy, Lord, 
And mercy needs must be . . . 
I have loved many children 
And they, me. 


Resembling Mother 

Pearle M. Olsen 

■ When I called on my elderly uncle recently, my heart was made 
glad as he said, "IVe been thinking about why you always give 
me a lift and make me happier whenever you come to see me. I 
always feel so much better after you come. And do you know what 
I decided? It's because you are so much like your mother was! 
There was something about her that was good for a person — she 
was wonderful! You must recall something about her, don't you?" 
No, I do not remember my mother, for she died when I was 
twenty-two months old, but throughout my life I have heard only 
good about her. Often I have tried reaching back into early recollec- 
tions with the hope that I could bring her image to mind, but 
always, the photographs we have of her come uppermost, and I have 
had to be satisfied with them. I do cling to my earUest memory in 
hfe, which is brief as a flash. I asked family members if they had 
ever told me of this happening but none had, so I Hke to think it 
was a reality, and I treasure it as a possible whisper of a memory 
of my mother. 

I remember I was sitting in what must have been a high chair, 
and I enjoyed the swishing sound of someone's skirts, swaying as 
she walked about the room. Sometimes she stooped to pick up the 
things I dropped and gave them to me. She caressed my head, 
sometimes with a kiss, and I felt warm and happy. Even though 
I cannot see her clearly in my mind's eye, I do think it must have 
been Mama. 



Many who knew her well have told me how much I looked like 
her, and I was always pleased to hear that. My father used to tell 
me I resembled her in numerous ways. He has been gone now for 
twenty-four years, and almost everyone who knew Mama is gone, 
too. She was only in her twenty- third year when she died. I must 
have been hungry to have her mentioned by someone again, for my 
heart sang as I welcomed the fine tribute my uncle paid to her. He 
had known her very well, and I considered his words a real compli- 

There were surely times in my life when I thoughtlessly stepped 
from my role of resembling my mother. Fortunately, I repented and 
made an effort to be more what I knew she would want me to be. 
Considering the fact that I did not know her, nor have her love and 
training during my childhood, I must have had many of her at- 
tributes, inborn and potential, to have had so many remark on the 
resemblances. My earlier years were full of turmoil and family sor- 
rows, but along with memories of various housekeepers and girls 
caring for me, I have more happy ones of my mother's sisters who 
took care of me for intervals. They loved me and must have re- 
sembled my mother, also, in many ways. My father married one 
of them when I was eleven, and she became the only mother I 
remember, and I owe much of my happiness to her. 

During my mature years, I have known pride in having so many 
people tell me I resemble my mother, and I have had a fervent desire 
to do all I possibly could to make her proud of me, also, and of 
my resemblance to her. Coupled with that desire, has been another 
one, dear to my heart, in hoping my own daughters and grand- 
daughters may, in some way and degree, feel that same pride and 
joy in resemblances to mother. 


Vesta Nickerson Fairbairn 

Bound by the sterling clasp of time, This journal keeps remembrances 

These living lines Of joys and sorrows, 

Are memories of marriage years The proof that loves grows strong to meet 

In shared designs. Unknown tomorrows. 

The lengthening inheritance Unwritten are the years ahead. 

Fills leaf on leaf, These pages hold 

Recorded wisdom, strength, and faith The final truths that only time 

In treasured sheaf. And God unfold. 



Alice Morrey Bailey 

All earth is haloed, and perhaps, unseen. 
In other valleys such as this the angels go 
And put their touch of peace in summer's green 
Or holiness in purity of snow, 
But on those certain days, that chosen year, 
The broken chain reforged, the silence broke, 
And for those special missions they were here 
And to those ordained men the angels spoke. 

Here stood that Messenger who hailed the Man, 
And here the Rock, and James, beloved John, 
Who walked with him from Beersheba to Dan — 
And here was Joseph, long prepared to don 
The prophet's cloak. The kingdom's keys, the power 
Flow onward as the river from that hour. 

t^ -^ 

rold M. Lafnberti 

Thoughts of a Latter-day Saint Mother Leah Green 

■ As I look down into the faces of my beloved children, I am con- 
sumed with the great responsibility of being the kind of wife and 
mother I should be. I want to be a helpmate to my husband in 
every way, sympathetic and understanding of the great responsibility 
he has in providing for us and to help build his confidence in him- 
self. I hope never to make demands above his power to provide, 
never to be envious of those who have more in a material way, but 
rather, to be eternally grateful for what is mine. I shall try to make 
the most of each day. 

It has been truly said: "It isn't the house, it's how you live in 
it that counts." A happy home filled with the spirit of love and 
understanding can be envied by the millionaire, for sometimes the 
most elegant of homes, filled with priceless possessions, can house 
the most unhappy people. 

President McKay has said: "Our homes should be little outposts 
of heaven." May mine be a refuge of happiness in this troubled 
world. May I be guided in the training of these precious spirits that 
have been entrusted to my care. May I know and understand their 
many problems. I ask the Heavenly Father to bless me with patience 
and wisdom in helping them face their lives with courage. May I 
have power to plant righteous convictions so deep that sin and 
temptations may have no power to penetrate their lives. May my 
manners, my speech, and my thoughts be as I would have my 
children speak, think, and act, for I know that every day I shall be 
setting a pattern for them to follow in their own lives. 

I pray for a positive attitude, and not one of self-pity, fault-finding, 
or an envious one. I pray for constructive ideas that I may grow 
in faith and wisdom so that I may have the guidance of the Holy 
Spirit in this sacred calling of being a good wife and mother. 


k Lettert 

To Daughter from Mother 

Lydia Parker 

Dear M 

While your marriage is young, your heart tender toward your 
husband, his toward you, and both entwined with that precious 
baby, may the following inspire you to hold tenderness dearly. (This, 
no doubt, will seem negative, but using the photographers' method, 
a negative makes a positive picture.) 

Swords are used to cut down the enemy. Words are too often 
used to cut up loved ones. Daggers pierce the heart; at the hand 
of the enemy they are fatal. When resorted to by a loved one, the 
heart bleeds, but will heal — will heal with a callous. After a maximum 
of needless, callous healings, that vital organ becomes toughened 
with scar tissue and can no longer be reached. 

Divorce courts are filled with calloused hearts. Homes are plagued 
with children whose hearts are calloused by resentment of angry 
words that have cut deep. The saddest moments in parents' lives 
are vy^hen they realize they can no longer find tenderness in their 
children's hearts. 

It may take a little more time, but no wasted energy to take a 
child by the hand. Parents are mirrored in the eyes of their children. 
Eyes of love reflect eyes of love. Children will wear their parents' 
expression. Just a little more effort often saves the day. Anger and 
impatience may stem from negligence that crowds one's time. 

As an aid to being a peacemaker — be ready to take blame. 

Darling, please understand — it would be too late to say, "I could 
have told you," so I am writing this letter now. 




Ramona W. Cannon 

Mrs. Evelyn Wood, a Latter-day Saint 
woman, in 1959, established in Wash- 
ington, D.C., the first "Evelyn Wood 
Reading Dynamics Institute." Today 
she manages fifty-nine institutes in the 
United States and Canada. She has 
traveled in many countries speaking on 
the importance of reading, giving dem- 
onstrations, opening institutes, and 
directing schoolteachers in the applica- 
tion of her methods. Her new technique 
for rapid reading has been featured in 
many national magazines, and she is 
the author of a textbook "Reading 

Patricia Gilroy, a student at the Univer- 
sity of Washington, is an expert figure 
skater. She has won two United States 
gold medals, and is a demonstrator of 
techniques relative to her "art," as we'll 
as a lecturer on the subject. 

Katharine McBride, President of Bryn 
Mawr, ranks high among college presi- 
dents in the United States. She prob- 
ably belongs to more key groups than 
any single male president. Among these 
organizations are the National Institute 
of Health and the National Science 
Foundation. She has served as presi- 
dent of the American Council on Edu- 
cation, and the College Entrance Ex- 
amination Board. A noted psychologist, 
she has led Bryn Mawr for twenty- 
three years. 

Mrs. Hattie Anderson, eighty-two, 
Leamington, Millard County, Utah, Is 
still "in business." She is representa- 
tive of storekeepers in rural areas, who 
dispense country hospitality and com- 
forting words, along with horseshoes, 
rakes, hoes, canned goods, wearing 
apparel, yard goods, household sup- 
plies, and notions. 

Kathy Kusner has been acclaimed top 
horsewoman of the United States. She 
entered her first horse show at the 
age of twelve; scored her first win at 
fourteen; and at eighteen she set a 
woman's high jumping record of seven 
feet, three inches, a record which still 
stands. At twenty-one she made the 
United States Equestrian Team and was 
chosen "Horsewoman of the Year." 
Now, at twenty-five, she is making 
plans to participate in the 1967 Pan- 
American Games, and the 1968 Olym- 

Laura H. Fisher, a member of the 
Cheyenne Stake Relief Society Board, 
has recently had her second novel for 
children published, "You Were Princess 
Last Time" (Holt, Rinehart, and Wins- 
ton). Mrs. Fisher's first book "Amy and 
the Sorrel Summer" appeared in 1964. 
She is the wife of Dr. Roger Fisher, a 
professor at the University of Wyoming, 
and they have three children. 

Mrs. Margaret Durrance (Miggs Jen- 
nings) was a member of the 1948 
United States Olympic Ski Team. Now 
she travels the world around writing 
articles on skiing and illustrating them 
with her own excellent photography. 
She is a specially appointed photog- 
rapher for the "National Geographic 

Mrs. Dorothy K. Haslam, mother of five 
children, who makes her home in Utah, 
is a member of the Museum of Cere- 
monial Art in Santa Fe, New Mexico, 
and is a well-known collector of Indian 
artifacts and a lecturer. She Is an 
authority on sand painting and weaving, 
pottery, and jewelry. 


Volume 53 May 1966 Number 5 

1561 16 b. Spafford, President 

Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 

Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 

Hulda P. Young, 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 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 
EIna P. Haymond 
Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhall 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kienitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Roselt 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 

Irene W. Biiehner 
Irene C. Lloyd 
Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva B. Ashton 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darlene C. Dedekind 
Cleone R. Eccles 
Edythe K. Watson 
Ellen N. Barnes 
Kathryn S. Gilbert 
Verda F. Burton 
Myrtle R. Olson 
Alice C. Smith 
Lucile P. Peterson 
Elaine B. Curtis 

Young Women 
In Relief Society 

Most young women are moti- 
vated by a desire to make some- 
thing beautiful of their lives. 
Many realize the need for help 
beyond themselves for fullest 
achievement. Some know and 
others need to be assured that 
Relief Society offers a way for ful- 
fillment of their goals, that for 
each desire, Relief Society mem- 
bership and activity have a reward. 

Young women who have found 
themselves in Relief Society have 
responded to its programs with 
eager acceptance. The more than 
6500 members of University cam- 
pus Relief Societies are among 
the most ardent of sisters. They 
bear testimony of their joy in 
continuing spiritual and cultural 
education. Dedicated and selfless 
compassionate service is being 
given on campuses by the young 
married sisters. Loving kindness is 
their watchword. To no women 
are their homes more precious, 
their husbands more honored, 
their children more cherished. 

Relief Society needs the youth- 
ful vigor and enthusiasm, the 
strength and willingness, the 
knowledge and dedication of 
the young women in addition to 
the graces and strengths of the ma- 
ture women. Young women need 
the guiding influence, the steady- 
ing hand, the inspirational teach- 
ing, the heaven-inspired leadership 
of Relief Society. 




Desire to accept what the Lord has 


Desire to give full expression to her 

innate urge to worship and serve the 


Desire for growth as a person. 

Desire for continuing education. 

Desire to know her religion. 

Desire for leadership opportunities. 

Desire for poise, for gracious woman- 

Desire to achieve refinement. 

Desire to be a worthy wife. 

Desire to be a noble mother. 

Desire to be a competent homemaker. 

Desire to have her capabilities recog- 

Desire to overcome weaknesses. 
Desire to make friends. 

Desire for social experiences. 
Desire to give volunteer service. 

Relief Society is a divine gift to women. 

The programs of Relief Society give 
impetus to worship and provide ways to 

Relief Society encourages and provides 
intellectual stimulation. 

Courses of study enlighten spiritually, 
culturally, mentally, and add to her 
store of knowledge. 

The doctrines and principles of the 
gospel are taught through Priesthood 
approved lessons. 

Sisters may hold executive, administra- 
tive, committee, and class leader re- 
sponsibilities, thus receiving leader- 
ship training. 

The security of knowing what is right 
to do is gained by participation in the 
many-faceted Relief Society program. 
Relief Society exerts a refining influ- 
ence by teaching the best, the most 
uplifting ideals. 

Relief Society teaches her to under- 
stand the sharing of the blessings of 
her husband's Priesthood. Lessons are 
correlated with the Melchizedek Priest- 
hood lessons so that husband and wife 
may be united in gospel understanding. 
No goal is more desirable and Relief 
Society leads the way. 
Skills and techniques are taught to in- 
crease her abilities. 

Relief Society makes use of her talents 
and helps her discover new talents. 
Strength is gained by association with 
wise and spiritual sisters and by profit- 
ing from the experiences of others. 
Friendships so lasting are formed in 
Relief Society that the Prophet's moth- 
er stated that we may all sit down in 
heaven together. 

Relief Society has delightful socials 
where sisters are given incentives to 
have happy association with others. 
Opportunities to let her compassionate 
nature be enlarged are abundant in 
Relief Society. i \a/ iui 


Washday Blues 

Frances C. Yost 

■ Arlene McHugh was making 
every minute count as she hurried 
with her washing. Little Clair 
and Carl were still asleep, but 
that wouldn't last for long. She 
gathered up the colored batch 
and put it in the conventional 
washer. Then, taking the white 
batch in the big basket, she went 
outside to hang the clothes on 
the line. 

As Arlene hung her sparkling 
white wash, she crooned a little 
overture. She looked at the blue, 
blue sky, with puffs of clouds 
arranged artistically. They re- 
minded her of her billowy wash. 
Indoor clothes dryers were a 
housewife's best friend on rainy 
or winter days. But outdoor 
clotheslines were made for sum- 
mer. Hanging clothes was such a 
wondarful time to think and 
count one's blessings. 

One blessing was the fact that 
her husband Barney had a good 
paying summer job. Which was a 
mighty fine thing, as Barney 
tried to make enough in sum- 
mers to tide them over winters, 
while he went to college. That 

made it so they had to budget 
very carefully the year around. 

Even though they lived in a 
little modest house, the rent came 
around like a merry-go-round. 
And even though Arlene made all 
her bread and every pie and cake 
they consumed; even though they 
used dry milk and economy 
spreads and stretched every 
grocery dollar to the limit, there 
just never was money for enter- 
tainment of any kind. 

That was why she and Barney 
started going to the concerts in 
the park. That was why they 
took the boys to the wading pool 
and watched them frisk a bit. 
That was why they started taking 
nature hikes, and other walking 
^ight-seeing expeditions. Who 
was it had said the best things in 
Kfe were free? That was true . . . 
to some extent. 

Yes, she and Barney had 
learned to laugh about what they 
called "the family squeeze." Ar- 
lene had remodeled hand-down 
clothes from both sides of the 
family. Barney had once said it 
was too bad Arlene couldn't make 



shoes, she was so handy at mak- 
ing every other item of clothing. 
Well, she had sewed up shoes 
more than once. And she had 
made dresses and shirts, and well 
everything, really. She had re- 
tailored Barney's suit — when the 
legs were baggy, and the coat was 
double breasted. It was a mighty 
good job, too. Even Mrs. Coombs, 
who altered at the Bon Ton, said 
she couldn't have done better 

Arlene had the whole batch 
hanging on the hne, and it hadn't 
taken a minute, because her mind 
had been so active and so bliss- 
fully happy. 

Now Arlene had all her wash 
out, and was cleaning up the 
washer. She felt something hard 
and round and . . . she brought it 
up out of the water. It was a 

Arlene smiled and said: "Bar- 
ney's left change in his pocket 
again. I've told him 'losers 
weepers, finders keepers.' " 

Then Arlene spied a half dollar. 
Seventy-five cents! Wow! Now I 
can buy that tube of lipstick I've 
wanted. It's so much fun on 

When she was first married to 
Barney, washday had seemed 
such a chore. The very thought of 
washday gave her the "washday 
blues." And then one day some- 
thing had happened. She would 
always remember that certain 
washday. . . . 

Barney had come home from 
the sand crusher job, his clothes 
covered with grease. "I'm glad 
you haven't emptied your wash 
water, Arlene. Will you run these 
coveralls through?" 

Barney was jerking them off. 
Arlene, watching, could feel her 

nose wrinkling slightly. "Throw 
them in yourself, Barney, I hate 
to touch dirty duds." 

Later, when Arlene drained the 
tubs, there had been two dimes 
in the bottom. "Losers weepers, 
finders keepers," she teased. 

"It was worth much more than 
twenty cents to have the cover- 
alls washed. Go buy yourself a 
milk shake, honey." 

"I need some crochet thread, 
Barney. Finding money is so ex- 

She had laughed as if the sky 
had suddenly started sprinkling 
dimes as raindrops. . . . 

Arlene was brought back to the 
present. This was today. A day 
wrapped up in the summer of 
nineteen sixty-five. Arlene just 
couldn't remember a washday 
since then that she hadn't found a 
nickel or a dime or a handful of 
pennies in the washer when she 
cleaned it out. She knew it was 
a little game Barney was playing 
with her — to take away the blues. 
Well, it did add interest to what 
might be a dull day. 

But today's haul made Arlene 
think. Seventy-five cents left 
carelessly in work clothes. Per- 
haps Barney was careless with 
money. Perhaps she was the only 
one who was skimping and mak- 
ing over and making do. 

When Barney had started 
working on this particular job he 
said the fellows always bought 
dinner at the job cafeteria. He 
said he could get a nice meal for 
for seventy-five cents. Arlene 
liked the idea, too. It cost to put 
up a nice lunch, and this way she 
wouldn't need to bother. And it 
would be more fun for Barney 
eating with the fellows, and en- 


MAY 1966 

joying their chit-chat. Yes, it was 
a good feeling knowing Barney 
was eating lunches with the 
fellows in the cafeteria. 

Then she remembered this 
morning. Barney had taken the 
latest copy of The Improvement 
Era with him. Barney didn't have 
time to read. They just had a 
half hour for lunch. . . . 

Arlene glanced at the clock. It 
was six P.M. Just any time after 
six she and the boys could start 
looking for their father to come 
home. This was a happy time of 
the day. The boys welcomed him 
home daily with the same joy 
they welcomed Santa Claus. And 
there he was climbing out of Bill 
Rice's car, and coming up the 

"Daddy! Daddy!" The boys 
were out of the door and scamper- 
ing to meet him. Arlene watched 
them with her heart full of joy. 
Dirty clothes didn't ever stand 
in the way of a child's love and 
the need to express it. 

Barney was coming through 
the kitchen door. He ducked low 
with a boy on each shoulder. He 
winked at Arlene. "What's for 
supper? I'm starved." 

"Hamburger delight." 

"My favorite." 

Now he had pitched off the 
boys and was taking off his cover- 
alls and work shoes in the utility 

"I'll hurry and bathe and be 
with you in a second." This was 
routine, but the next sentence 
was edged with hunger. "I could 
go for one of your pies . . . the 
round uncut kind." 

Arlene raised her voice to be 
heard above the bath water flow. 
"Will you settle for graham 
cracker pudding?" 

"My favorite." 

Supper was funtime at the Mc- 
Hughs. The boys always had lots 
to tell Daddy. Barney always 
had happenings at the plant, a 
joke or two the fellows had re- 
lated. And sometimes something 
clever one of the fellows told 
about their children. Barney liked 
his work, and the men he worked 

Tonight, Barney seemed to be 
enjoying his food especially well. 
He emptied his plate and took 
seconds all around. He looked 
over at Arlene and smiled affec- 
tionately. "I sure do like my 
wife's cooking." 

After supper the boys played 
in their room, and Barney dried 
the dishes while Arlene washed 

"What was the special at the 
cafeteria, Barney?" 

"Huh? Oh, same old thing." 

"Did you read the article 
written by President McKay in 
the Erar 

"Yes, how did you know?" 
•"One can do a lot of reading 
in a half hour. That article was so 
good it would sort of take a man's 
mind off the fact that he was 
hungry . . . maybe." 

"What do you mean, honey 

"My dear, darling, lovable, 
generous husband doesn't have 
lunch money, because he leaves 
the cost of his dinner in his cover- 
alls so that his wife will be sur- 
prised, and will find money to 
buy lipstick, or some other ex- 
travagance that the small budget 
doesn't allow. Oh, Barney dar- 
ling! This isn't the first time 
you have done this. I've been a 



dummy and didn't figure it out 
until today. I'm so ashamed." 

Barney put his arms around 
Arlene. "Come now. Tears are for 
funerals and weddings." 

"Don't ever . . don't ever leave 
money where I'll find it in the 
washer. ..." 

"And run the risk of my pretty 
wife getting the washday blues? 
Not on your life." 

"But not at the cost of going 
himgry. Not ever again, Barney. 
Promise me." 

"Don't make me promise, be- 
cause I've had a lot of fun seeing 
you wash out my dirty silver. . . . 
too much of it has been filthy 
copper. But I have a medium of 
exchange that will make your 
eyes sparkle. How about this?" 

Barney pulled out an envelope 
from his shirt pocket. He with- 

drew a check and handed it to 

''Twenty dollars! For what!" 
"The boss made me a sort of 
foreman. With the job, goes a 
twenty dollar raise a week. May- 
be we can take in a show occa- 
sionally. Why I might even hire 
a sitter and take my girl friend 

Barney was smihng one of his 
nicest smiles now ... all crinkly 
and laughing and fun. "We can 
stay on the college fund budget 
and do a few things extra, in a 
small way, of course." 
"And eat on washday." 
Barney's arms encircled her. 
Arlene felt warm and protected 
and comfortable as he held her 

Washday can have so many 
hues, she thought. 


Bertha A. Kleinman 

(Dedicated to Vida D. Brinton, Arizona Mother of the Year) 

You may not paint the sunset's amber glow, or sculpture as did Michelangelo, 
You may not be a nightingale to sing your strophe to the wakening of spring, 
You may not write a Proverb or a Psalm, or author odes and epics wrested from 
The genius such as Dante could invoke, or Keats, or Shelley with their master 

Leave them enframed within their ivoried towers — life must go on in this space 

age of ours. 
And there you are as timeless as the race, a rock of ages nothing can efface, 
Like sentried hills that watch the sleeping plain, with arms outstretched to 

shelter and sustain. 
Your footprints down the aisles of dynasties, indent the annals of the centuries, 
Inured to pain, endurance, and decree, fettered or free, unawed of destiny; 
A sculptress in the Maker's mighty plan, copartner in the miracle of man, 
To still bear on the world's vast multitude — 
Such is the matchless role of motherhood! 



Norma A. Wrathall 

Now it's May, my truant thoughts are wandering, 
And we have climbed a tree-lined fence, our quest 
Star flowers hiding ankle-deep in marsh grass 
Where meadowlarks call joy ifrom nest to nest. 

Soft clumps of pull aparts are pungent islands 
For nimble feet where quiet waters seep, 
While sun and white-puff clouds trail endless patterns 
Along our pink starred paths till shadows creep. 

The dreaming sky, the scents of earth and flowers 
Rise from my heart, but wander where I will, 
I search in vain for rosy fields, and listen 
Across the silence for the lark's sweet trill. 

H. Armstrong: Roberts 

freezer Time Means Free Time 

Joyce B. Bailey 

Company coining? You would love to sit down and visit with Cousin Cora 
and Uncle Bill, but someone has to feed the crowd, and. . . . 

Time out for the new baby? Hubby is all thumbs in the kitchen, and piles 
of dishes are making him frown. 

Or you just want to take the afternoon off from kitchen patrol and rest a 
moment, but. . . . 

If you have a home freezer, a few careful minutes of planning can save 
you hours over the week. There is no better way to insure that fix-ahead foods 
are health-giving and retain the vitamins and minerals so important for your 
family than to freeze them. 

Are you in a baking mood? Bake an extra batch of your family's favorite 
cookies and freeze them in individual bags for lunches. Do you dread daily 
shopping? Shop less often and let your freezer help you save both time and 
money as you select the best foods when seasonally abundant. 


(Basic Dough) 

IV2 c. soft shortening 
2 c. raw or brown sugar 

1 c. granulated sugar 

2 eggs 

V2 c. water 

2 tsp. flavoring 

2 c. self-rising flour or 

2 c. sifted flour, 2 tsp. salt, 1 tsp soda 

6 c. rolled oats or rolled wheat 

Mix In order listed and' divide dough into three parts. To one part add 2 c. 
chocolate chips; to the second part add 2 c. butterscotch bits; and to the third 
add 1 c. raisins and 1 c. chopped nuts. Spoon onto baking sheets. 

Bake at 350° for 12 minutes. Cool. Place in polyethylene freezer bags and 
freeze. Cookies will thaw in just a few minutes, as fresh as when you baked them. 


MAY 1966 


IV2 lbs. ground beef V2 package onion soup mix 

V2 'b. ground sausage 1 can condensed mushroom soup 

1 c. rolled oats canned sliced mushrooms 
V^ c. tomato catsup 

Mix ingredients, except mushrooms and catsup, and press into loaf pan or 
casserole dish lined with foil. Garnish with the mushrooms and top with catsup. 
Cover with foil and freeze. Before baking, allow to thaw IV2 hfs. Place in 350° 
oven for II/2 hrs. Serve with Parmesan baked potatoes. 


Select potatoes the desired size, using a mealy variety. Wash, bake 1 hour at 
350°. Slice potatoes lengthwise, scoop out center, saving shells. Mash, then 
whip until light and fluffy with milk, butter, salt, and pepper. Heap into shells 
and allow to cool. Sprinkle with grated Parmesan cheese, wrap individually in 
foil and freeze. To serve, defrost for I1/2 '^rs. at room temperature; then bake for 
40 minutes at 350°. 


Cook 2 packages of frozen spinach according to directions on label. Drain. 
Add 1 can condensed mushroom soup. Heat and serve. 


Crush 2 c. fresh or frozen strawberries, combine with V2 c. heavy cream, 12 oz. 
cream cheese or IV2 c. cottage cheese. Freeze in individual paper cups, un- 
covered. When frozen, wrap in foil. To serve, thaw at room temperature for 2 to 3 
hours. Serve immediately. 


Arrange 12 crisp cookies on a tray. Place a scoop of ice cream on each cookie. 
Use chocolate chips for eyes and strips of maraschino cherry for mouth and 
nose. Place an ice cream cone on each scoop for a hat. A real party pleaser! 


Zara Sabin 

Firelight fingered your face as we 
Sat silent before its waning glow — 
My head soft-cushioned on your knee. 
Our hands close-clasped. No 
Words were needed, for we were both 
Savoring the joys of plighted troth. 

Firelight fingers your face tonight — 
The hearth is the same and the fire low. 
I smile as I watch the kindly light 
Soften your features, till long ago 
Is yesterday, or so it appears 


Kaye T. Roberts 

■ Unfortunately our hours do not 
coincide. In the morning I leave 
for work at seven-thirty, and my 
sixteen-year-old son Steve leaves 
for school at eight. 

As I rush from the bedroom, 
dressed, ready to prepare break- 
fast, Steve scurries from his room, 
dressed, also, and ready to eat. As 
he pours the milk and I scramble 
the eggs, there are only a few 
minutes for idle conversation. For 
instance: who won the track 
meet, and why the coach didn't 
put him in the hurdles . . . which 
girl he would like to ask to the 
junior prom, and, again why 
doesn't the English teacher give 
out the assignments more than 
once to any one student? 

Suddenly, it is time to grab my 
purse and hurry to the comer 

before the bus slides by without 
me. As I rush down the steps in 
a starting rain, I wonder what it 
was I forgot to mention to my 
son. Always, it seems, there was 
something important I forgot 
to say. 

As a rule, he is home from 
school by four and off to his part- 
time job at the market before I 
step off the bus at five-thirty. 
Moving like quicksilver, he comes 
and goes, and I am left with 
small clues detecting his where- 

Tonight, in a hard downpour, I 
climb the steps and wonder if 
Steve has been home and gone 
. . . the unclosed door provides 
the answer. In any season, come 
wind or rain, the front door is 
left from an inch to wide open. In 


MAY 1966 

his mad rush he forgets to close 
it tightly. 

Inside, I close my umbrella 
and wonder, has he eaten? Re- 
moving my wet raincoat I walk 
toward the kitchen. Rain has 
brought early darkness and I 
switch on the lights. If the cup- 
board and refrigerator doors are 
closed and the sink clear, then I 
expect to find a note saying he 
is planning to eat out. 

Normally though, he has left 
his clues; on the sinkboard an 
opened jar of mayonnaise, a jar 
of peanut butter, an empty soup 
can, a loaf of opened bread, a 
half-sliced onion, a greasy skillet. 

Tonight, the refrigerator door 
is ajar and a bit of meat is left 
in the skillet on the stove. Like 
Hansel and Gretel, he has trailed 
crumbs from the kitchen, through 
the hallway, and into his bed- 

In his bedroom, I look around 
for his slicker. Is it on his back, 
or will he come in later drenched 
to the skin? 

I figure this out by subtraction 
and deduction. His tan school 
pants are on the chair, and his 
shoes are upside down and his 
socks inside out on the green 
throw rug beside his bed. A brown 
belt is flung over the top of his 
dresser and his blue work pants 
are missing. Thus, I presume he 
has been in, changed, and gone 
to work. His slicker isn't draped 
over the chair back or thrown on 
his desk, so I hope it is on his 

And, yes, he has showered. The 
wet towel has been carried in and 
dropped on the bedspread, and 
the washcloth drips from the 
edge of the wash basin. 

Leaving the room, I pick up 

an empty milk bottle, this morn- 
ing's sports section, orange peels, 
a pair of soiled socks, and used 
notepaper that has missed the 
waste paper basket by a mile. I 
straighten the shades and hang 
up his pajamas. A lamp falls 
from a stack of magazines that 
are piled on his night stand. The 
lamp and magazines hit a pile of 
records, and they all strike the 

All right, this is it! Starting to- 
night, I'm turning over a new 
leaf. We're going to improve this 
room. Completely discouraged, I 
size up Steve's room. Where have 
I failed? 

Tonight I'll be ready with a 
lecture. When he comes whistling 
in the door I'll be ready. How can 
this sixteen-year-old son of mine 
high jump, swing a tennis racket 
until it is a thing of beauty, play 
such a dreamy clarinet, and still 
be so thoroughly careless? How 
can he slip out of the door look- 
ing so clean-cut and leave this 
total mess behind? 

As I lift my hand to turn off 
the light, I see the report card 
that has slipped under his bed. 
Reading it, I want to cry. Four 
solids are only mediocre grades. 
I was so in hopes he'd make at 
least one accelerated class. 

I walk back to the kitchen, 
tired both in mind and body. 
Self-pity, that I so often hold in 
check, sweeps over me again. I've 
missed so much, not being home 
perhaps at the important mo- 
ment, not being able to eat our 
meals together. Not being home 
when he opens the door, not 
being here to call goodbye when 
he walks out. 

In the service porch, something 
wet and dripping strikes me full 



in the face. I quickly flash on the 
switch and find three pairs of 
gym socks and two gym shirts 
hanging on a make-shift line to 
dry. The clorox is stifling. Sick- 
ly, I remember. I had forgotten 
to wash his gym clothes the night 
before. I enter the kitchen, ready 
to prepare a rather thin, lonely 

There among the dirty dishes 
I find a note I had missed earlier. 
Steve had hurriedly written on 
a scrap of notebook paper: 

I just remembered that you might 
not get your check cashed. Here is 
three bucks ... go out and get your- 
self a good meal, Mom. P.S. You for- 
got to leave a note for the milkman. 
I'll bring two quarts of milk home 
from the store. Steve. 

Time for a lecture? I sink down 
on a kitchen chair. Forgive me, 
son, I think to myself. So you 
forgot to shut the door, hang up 
your clothes, and tidy your room. 
You had thought about me. You 
washed your gym clothes, and 
cloroxed them, bless you, right in 
my kitchen sink. At least you had 
tackled the job. In your own six- 
teen-year-old way, you had pre- 
pared your own food. 

Slipping my hand into my 
dress pocket, I bring out the re- 
port card. This time I read the 

note from the teacher about an 
inquiry I had made about Steve's 
citizenship grades. 

"Steve is very cooperative," he 
wrote, "courteous, gets along well 
with others, appears to be well- 
adjusted, and respects the rights 
of others. However, he needs to 
improve upon neatness on his 
homework assignments. He could 
make better use of his class 

I stand up straight and care- 
fully fold the paper. On second 
thought, I'm not as fatigued as 
I first thought. My appetite is 

Just for tonight, I'll count my 
blessings, and forget about the 
lecture. Instead, I want to think 
of a rather clever note to leave 
upon the clean kitchen table, so 
Steve will be sure to see it when 
he takes the milk to the kitchen, 
later, when he comes from work. 
Something about thanking him 
for being so sweet and leaving 
me the three dollars. It would 
take a bit of thinking, for sixteen- 
year-old boys don't like to be 
told they're sweet. 

I pick up the greasy skillet and 
put it to soak. In a short time, 
I think to myself, humming, 
while my own dinner cooks, the 
right words will come. 


Maude O. Cook 

Be generous with praise and slow to censure, 
For oftentimes a kind word lieals tfie heart, 
While condemnation freezes good intention, 
And leaves a wound as deep as would a dart. 


Photographs by John R. Shupe 

\ I 

PINK AND WHITE flowers dec 
orate this bulletin board made 
for a girl's room. A perfect or- 
ganizer for all those things she 
likes to collect. 

IDEAL for a narrow wall space 
is this slender bulletin board 
measuring 13"x36". Telephone 
messages, shopping lists, and 
must-do's for the day find their 
way to this strategically located 

LEO THE LION cut of felt parks firmly on the 
bulletin board of this grade-schooler. Any num- 
ber of designs might grace this kind of board, 
made from composition board and covered with 


June F. Krambule 

A practical gift for adult or child; ideal organizer for a busy mother; 
instant-reminder to a forgetful teenager; attractive v\/all decoration, 
costing about a dollar — these describe a simple-to-make, easy-to-use 
bulletin board that can be completed in an afternoon. It was devised 
by Mrs. Barbara Fishburn of Ogden, Utah, who made several for her 
children, who were great collectors of this-and-that. 

To construct one of these bulletin boards, first obtain a piece of 
composition board, approximately 17'' x 26" (costing about fifty 
cents), or in any shape you may prefer. Cover with burlap in your 
choice of color, requiring not more than two-thirds yard, and costing 
about forty cents. Stretch the material smoothly over the board, keep- 
ing the grain of the fabric straight. Glue in back and tack or staple 
securely. Corners should be carefully clipped and mitered, making 
them as flat as possible. 

Now, decorate and trim to your heart's desire with lions, flowers, 
fruits, bees, parasols, butterflies, fish, or trees! Bits of colored felt 
to match your decor are ideal for this. 

Apply a stick-on wall hanger, provide push-pins, or those with glass 
heads — ^then use well and often. 


Much of Worth - The Relief Society Magazine 

Mabel L. Anderson 

■ "That surely must be a good Magazine," Mark said, as he 
took his grandmother's picture. "You are always reading it." 

"It is, the best in the world," Grandma Violet Nielsen answered 
as she continued to peruse The Relief Society Magazine. 

That she was always reading it, was not quite accurate. When one 
saw the mountains of sewing she did, of cross-stitched aprons, pillows, 
quilt tops, crocheting, and items for the bazaars and trousseaux for 
granddaughters; when one tasted her good home cooking, and visited 
her neat little home, one knew that her hands were indeed busy. 
But when leisure moments came to her, when she must stop to rest, 
the little Magazine she loved was right at hand, by her rocker or 
easy chair, or bedside table. As soon as the postman delivered it, 
matters of less urgency were dropped "just to glance through it." 

Sister Nielsen, as thousands of Relief Society women throughout 
the world, has found much of worth in the Magazine. 

Through it she can keep up with the lessons, whether she is able 
always to be at the meetings or not. 

Through it she becomes vicariously acquainted with people in 
other lands, in other walks of life, and yet keeps in touch with her 
own people at home. 

In its pages she comes in contact with the thoughts, with the 
minds of great men and women of the Church, of the world. From 
it her testimony of the gospel gains strength. 



Within it she often finds expressions of her own thoughts for 
which she has never quite found the words. 

For relaxation, she enjoys the interesting, homey stories, and 
Hkes to try one of the recipes now and then, or a new pattern for 
handwork is always a delight and a challenge to her. 

Someone said that books are like people — that they have a soul. 
Then our little Magazine is surely a friendly soul and shares with 
its readers pleasures, dreams, hopes, revelation, offers words of com- 
fort in sorrow, is a wise counselor for problems. It is a friend one 
likes to have in one's home, at one's fireside, by one's easy chair, as 
it is with Sister Nielsen. Although we do meet many of the great 
of the world there, most of them are the folksy folks like you and 
me and Grandma Nielsen who talk to us in words we know and 
can understand. 

Yes, women look forward to the Magazine with pleasure, with 
anticipation. It speaks to us of the modem world in which we live, 
of a future world that is coming, but to many of us who are ap- 
proaching the twilight years we often find much in it of memory, 
of recognition, and it gives to the younger women an occasional 
backward look to other, older ways, and makes for understanding. 

An old adage says a man (or woman) is known by the company 
he keeps. What gentle, kindly company Grandma Nielsen keeps. 
After a session in her easy chair with her little Magazine, her mind 
and body are refreshed. 


Enola Chamberlin 

There is remembering in my heart tonight — 
Not just of spring as winter winds blow cold; 
Not just of summer with its warmth and light, 
Nor of the autumn with its bronze and gold. 
But recalling in my heart of other days 
When other winters lay along the land; 
Exploring feet were walking other ways, 
And to my hand there clung another hand. 
You are not lost completely but the miles 
Are long and far that keep our hands apart, 
And loneliness like wind-blown snowdrifts piles 
Its bitter cold around my yearning heart. 
And though ahead I see a beam of light. 
There is remembering in my heart tonight. 



Genevieve Van Wagenen 

■ As youngsters we romped to- 
gether, sat on the back porch at 
grandma's, and ate jam on home- 
made bread which she had baked. 
We laughed at our jam-smudged 
faces, appointed a committee of 
one, to ask for "seconds" for us 

Together, we peeked into the 
silent parlor (which was usually 
off limits), admired the red plush 
chairs and spun glass flowers 
grandma prized so highly. Disre- 
garded the cautions and warn- 
ings and slid down the banister, 
walked the picket fence, climbed 
the apple tree, ate our fill of 
green apples. Caught pollywogs 
and water skaters under the 
bridge. Popped com, we helped 
grandpa shell, by rubbing two 
cobs together. Tested skill, as we 
jumped on the hay in grandpa's 
bam. Acted as good Samaritans 
by removing the itchy straw we'd 
tumbled into, from each others 
shirts and necks and hair. Drank 
water from grandpa's sparkling 
flowing well. Made yards and 
yards of dandelion chains. Played 
train in the old wooden swing, 
each taking his turn being the 
conductor, collecting tickets, call- 
ing stations, and letting passen- 
gers on and off. 

We shared birthday parties and 
valentines. Thanksgiving Days 
and Christmas. Carved jack-o'- 
lanterns. Treasured the willow 
whistles grandpa taught us how to 
make — how carefully he selected 
the willow! How gently he tapped 
the bark with his pocket knife, to 
loosen it; then slipped it off and 


•^A^ J, 



made that all-important notch in 
the wood, then slid the bark back 
on again. Each owner tested his 
out for sound. When each one 
had a whistle, we formed a band. 
Our enthusiasm would have made 
John Philip Sousa envious. 

Together we waited (during 
what seemed the longest time in 
our lives) while the adults ate 
their dinner. We watched the 
steaming bowls of vegetables 
passed about. The meat disap- 
pearing. Smelled the fragrant, 
tantalizing aromas that made us 
impatient. Listened to the adults' 
joyous conversation that droned 
on endlessly. At last someone re- 
membered us. The dishes were 
cleared away, the table reset, the 
bowls refilled. After what had 
seemed an eternity, we were all 
seated around the table. Yes, our 
hopes and prayers had been an- 
swered, there was still some 
chocolate cake left, and home- 
made ice cream, enough to make 
the rounds — but not enough to 
satisfy our appetites. (Could it 

We were often together on 
Sunday evenings. We sang hymns 
together and knelt in our family 
prayer as grandpa prayed for one 
and all. We waved or called good- 
bye as each family separated and 
trudged home. 

So much we shared together of 
fun and love, of learning and 
comradeship. The sidewalk wasn't 
broad enough to hold us all, as 
we walked with arms locked 
around each other's necks. Yes, 
there were favorites among our 
group. We tolerated the younger 
''tag-alongs" and ''tattle tales" 
and made plans to ''get even" 
with youthful informers — plans 
that had never materialized, for 

grandfather, as patriarch, meted 
out justice to both accused and 
accuser and taught a Christian 
lesson to both. 

We were a happy, carefree 
group of youngsters. Tall and 
short, blond and brunette, blue 
eyes and brown, curly hair and 
straight, but somewhere inter- 
mingled in all our differences was 
a similarity. We bore the trade- 
mark of our sturdy pioneer an- 
cestors — you could tell we "be- 

Then industry and transfers 
scattered our families. No longer 
was distance measured by blocks 
and miles. We were separated by 
states and hundreds of miles, 
even thousands of miles. Years 
parted us. Rarely did we share to- 
gether the warmth of grandpa's 
stove, or gather round the organ 
grandma played. When we were 
there — others were not. No time 
seemed convenient for all. We 
heard of "doings," achievements, 
and tragedies. Grandma kept in 
touch with all. 

Then grandma passed away. 
Then grandpa. That was the last 
time we were all together. The 
communication lines never again 
operated as efficiently as when 
grandma was in charge. Procras- 
tination, neglect, responsibilities 
— life itself, almost severed the 
lines of communication. Aunt 
Mary, the family genealogist is 
our main source of information, 

Recently we have been return- 
ing — returning at rather frequent 
intervals. Not to grandpa's home, 
for it has long ago been sold. Not 
to our childhood homes; for years 
they have housed strangers. We 
have returned with bowed and 


MAY 1966 

reverent heads, with loved ones, 
to the quiet, hallowed family 
plots. To pay last respects to a 
beloved parent, a favorite uncle, 
or a thoughtful loving aunt. We 
look around. At first glance, there 
are strangers in our midst, but 
they are strangers only momen- 
tarily. A smile, a softly spoken 
childhood nickname, a peculiar 
little chuckle, erases the camou- 
flage of years and reveals — our 
cousins! What memories crowd 
around! What joys abound! What 
surprises! Little blond curly- 
headed Georgie, whom we've re- 
membered through the years as 
being such a doll, is a tall, distin- 
guished, gray-haired lawyer, now. 
Tom, who once could jump the 
farthest in the hay loft, has con- 
tinued to make great strides — 
he is a big executive in the East. 
Skinny Mildred has changed so 
much — she is well-padded, now. 
We never would have recognized 
her, if she hadn't been with Aunt 
Mill. Just think, we who once 
were pals, could have passed on 
the street without knowing one 

The handshakes are firm, the 
hugs and kisses plentiful. We feel 
the family's eternal tie. 

Lady luck has leaned heavily 
on some. Other cousins, she has 
snubbed. Tragedy has trudged 
the path with some. Success has 
followed others all the way. Tal- 
ent has mingled freely with them 
all. Some have clung to the "iron 
rod," others relinquished their 
grasp and habits now seem to 
have pushed it beyond their 
reach. But wait! There is hope! 
They were wiping their eyes after 
the dedicatory prayer. The so- 
lemnity of life has made an im- 

pact upon them. Faith has been 
fanned into a spark. Its light re- 
flects in their eyes. Resolve is felt 
in their grip and voice. Grandma 
will be pleased. 

The cemetery is a sacred spot 
for us. Grandfather and grand- 
mother are buried here, and their 
parents before them — our cour- 
ageous. God-fearing pioneers. 
Grandfather was sexton at the 
cemetery for a number of years. 
As youngsters, we knew the 
cemetery well. There were old 
familiar headstones and well- 
known family names that caught 
our quick attention. The towering 
granite shaft of the wealthiest 
man in town stands high above 
all others. There is the * 'weeping 
woman" carved in whitest mar- 
ble, sitting with bowed head. She 
has kept a silent vigil through 
all these years. 

''Over there is another familiar 
stone," said cousin Beth, motion- 
ing southward. Yes, there was the 
huge grave-size slab of pinkish 
brown marble. It is two feet 
thick. In the center rests a large 
highly polished ball of matching 
marble. The ball is all of three 
feet high. "Do you remember how 
that bothered us? We worried 
how that poor man would ever 
get out on resurrection day, with 
all that weight on him." 

So we reminisced, happy in our 
reunion. Sorrowing that only a 
funeral could bring us together. 
Mindful of the fact that once 
goodbyes were said, and each 
went his separate way, we might 
not meet again in this life. Such 
is life, and time. But we are 
thankful for our rich heritage, 
our common bond, and the joyous 
happy years of youth we spent 
together as cousins. 


k Pod Full of Peas 

Helen Hinckley Jones 

■ Like other American housewives, I have learned to do things the 
easy way. I have a ready thumbnail for the breakfast food box or the 
quick mix, a flexible wrist for opening cans and emptying their con- 
tents into a bowl or saucepan. But every time I drop a frozen mass 
of green peas into the required boiling salted water and hear the 
"klop," I remember the beautiful music fresh peas make as they ping 
into a pan. Peas don't play bravura music. Even with as rapid a 
"sheller" as my mother was, there is a delicate one-note-at-a-time 
sort of music. 

"Helen, would you like to help me shell the peas for dinner?" 
Mother would ask, and the two of us would sit down with the peas 
on a paper between us, each with a bowl on her lap. An extra special 
atmosphere of oneness would settle upon us as we commenced to pop 
open the pods and drop the peas into our pans. I'd eat all of the 
little underdeveloped ones as they came from the pod, and we would 

We were shelling peas when Mother told me about the '*olden 
times" when she was a little girl and knew such great men as Brother 
Maeser, the first President of Brigham Young University. Sdmetimes, 
she told me of how she met Daddy and fell in love with him and how 
they were married in the Manti Temple. Sometimes, she talked of 
the even more ancient time when her mother, my quiet little grand- 
mother, was a lively girl in England, or of how her father crossed 
the plains with the Gold Rush, but saw Grandma in a Great Salt 
Lake City kitchen and never completed his journey. 

We were shelling peas when I asked her, a little awkwardly, per- 
haps, about how babies come into the world. And she, looking at her 
fast moving hands instead of into my eager face, because even with 
her own little girl she was a bit reticent, told me about what it 
means to be a woman, a wife, a mother. 


MAY 1966 

We were shelling peas when I told her about my sixth grade 
"crush" and my ninth grade "heartbreak," and still later of my 
adolescent plans and aspirations. 

Nowadays mothers say that they can't "get through" to their 
daughters. Girls who have confided in me say that they wish they 
could talk with their own mothers. Because of this lack of com- 
munication, mothers and daughters, too, go through the days and 
weeks and years never understanding each other, never really dis- 
covering how to make their lives touch. Because they cannot tolerate 
this distance between them, or because things go wrong, mothers 
and daughters, too, seek family counselors, psychologists, analyists, 
psychiatrists. Perhaps all of this expensive counseling is helpful, 
perhaps, sometimes, it is necessary. But maybe what mothers and 
daughters need is a quiet hour with three pounds of garden-fresh 
green peas that need four hands to do the shelling. 


Ida A. Isaacson 

V2 c. vegetable oi 

1/3 c. sugar 

14 c. light vinegar 

sprinkle of pepper 

1 can tomato soup 

1 tsp. salt (or less for individual taste) 

1 tsp. mustard (prepared) 

dash paprika 

1 green pepper (medium sized, finely 

1 onion (size of small egg), minced 
V2 c. finely cut celery 

Blend in your blender or mixmaster, or shake well in a bottle, all ingredients 
except the green pepper, onion, and celery. When the other ingredients are 
blended, toss in the cut green pepper, the minced onion, and the cut celery. 

Keep in a covered jar in the refrigerator. This wonderful dressing is delicious with 
lettuce and sliced tomatoes, or lettuce alone. Any combination of salad vegetables 
is delectable with this dressing. 


Ismilda England - Expert With Crochet Hook and 

Quilting Needle 

Ismilda Thueson Dorchues England, Ogden, Utah, throughout her long life, 
and during her many years as a homemaker, has found that her handicraft 
skills have helped to beautify her home, and the homes of her friends and 
relatives. She is an expert with the crochet hook, and makes many of her own 
patterns. She is currently busy making exquisite edgings on ;Jllowslips for her 
ward bazaar. She has made hundreds of quilts, and the homes of her six chil- 
dren, her grandchildren, and most of her great-grandchildren are adorned with 
beautifully designed and carefully stitched quilts. Ismilda Thueson Dorchues 
was married to William England in 1891, and they are said to be one of the 
longest married couples in the United States. 

Sister England has been a Relief Society class leader, a visiting teacher for 
more than fifty years, and she served as Relief Society president of Plain City 
(Utah) Ward for ten years. She is skilled in all household arts, and, in addition 
to her handicraft skills, she is noted for her cooking and baking. For Ismilda 
England, life has been "busy, buoyant, and beautiful." 


for the 

Chapter 5 

Margery S. Stewart 

Synopsis: Jennie Starr, whose 
band Rex is not a member of the 
Church, has received his permission 
for the family to participate in Church 
activities for a trial period of one 
year. Jennie feels that through her 
work in teaching a Trekker class in 
Primary, and the * children's active 
interest in their assigrmaents, their 
home is gaining a spirit of love, co- 
operation, and a willingness to become 
part of a larger purpose. 

■ Jennie tried to make her voice 
very bright, "Guess what?" 

"What?" asked the Trekkers 

"We've been asked to be on 
the program for the Christmas 

The Trekkers, as one man, fell 
off their chairs and lay about 
the room groaning. 

"Enough," Jennie said sternly, 
"quite, quite enough. Every man 
in place." 

Still groaning, they climbed 
back. They looked at her gloom- 
ily, "What do they want us to 

"We can choose," said Jennie, 
still striving for enthusiasm. 
"Isn't that wonderful! We can do 
a play or sing or make a pageant. 
. . . We can be amusing or in- 
spiring. It's up to us. What do 
you want to do?" 

"Nothing!" they cried in shrill 
accord. Then they settled down 
to the business of deciding which 
would be the most startling in- 
novation ever to grace the stage. 

Jennie listened with a very real 
interest. It never failed to fas- 
cinate her, the barbarism of the 
ten-year-old mind. 

"But we want to make the 
people happy," she said. "We 
want to give them something 
beautiful to remember." 

"We can't ever please them," 
Billy said, "nobody can't please 
anybody that's over twelve years 

The others nodded in solemn 
unison. Jennie secretly agreed 
with them, in part. It was pretty 
difficult to be male and ten. Little 
girls had it better, they were 
born with an instinctive grace 
and knowledge of the way to the 



grown-up heart, but ten-year-old 
males might as well be equipped 
with cactus needles. 

She looked at their doleful 
faces. She had herself unexpect- 
edly and irrevocably fallen in 
love with the lot of them. She 
no longer smelled peanut butter 
or sneakers, she no more noticed 
the tumbling and never-ending 
battle for supremacy. To her, 
they had become founts of un- 
expected profundity, isles of 
laughter, pools of innocence. 
They fought to sit by "our teach- 
er,'* she would have been broken- 
hearted if they were taken away. 

"We have to do it," she said 
to them now, "they expect it of 
us, and they don't expect us to 
be too good, that's where we'll 
have to surprise them." 

"Let's do the play," Billy sug- 
gested. "I know a real dinger . . . 
it seems this cowboy. ..." 

"No," said Jennie firmly. She 
studied them. "Let's try a carol," 
she said. "How about 'Silent 

She gave them the key and 
they sang. Jennie stopped sing- 
ing and listened. They were quite 
good, really. Their voices, espe- 
cially Billy's, were high and true, 
clear and appealing. In class, 
away from the wrath of injured 
neighbors, they were not afraid 
to sing out. 

"Very good." She passed 
around songbooks and tojd them 
the page. "Now . . . let's try it 
again . . . second verse this time." 

But the second verse was con- 
spicuous by the absence of Billy's 

"Come on, Billy." 

He tossed the book down. 
"Don't want to." 

"But we need your voice." 

"It makes my throat ache." 

"Nonsense . . . you didn't ache 
on the first verse." 

"Well, I'm aching on the sec- 
ond one . . . real hard." 

She turned to the class. "All 
right . . . we'll try it again with- 
out Billy." The class pealed forth 
and, to her bewilderment, Billy 
joined in again after the first few 
words. He sang 'happily , his eyes 
open and inward turned, all of 
him listening to the new-found 
splendor of his own voice. 

"Third verse." 

"I'm tired," Billy said. 

Finally, she put the book down. 
"Enough for today, we'll go on 
to our lesson. But I would like 
all of you to come to my house 
for practice, every Friday after- 
noon, until the party. We'll have 
something delicious to eat, wait- 
ing for you." 

"I can't come," Billy said. 

"But we especially need you." 
Jennie meant it. His voice was 
exceptionally sweet. 

Billy tucked his chin in his 
tattered shirt and was silent and 

On the way out of class he re- 
verted to the behavior he had 
shown when she first came, gag- 
ging the other Trekkers, running 
through the halls. He sat beside 
her, however, at the closing ex- 

Suspicion of the truth had be- 
gun to gnaw at Jennie. She held 
fast to his elbow. "I want to talk 
to you, Billy." 

" I gotta run. Mom will be ex- 
pecting me." 

"Just one minute ... or wait 
. . . I'll drive you home." 

She scrambled him into the 
car with her own children. But 


MAY 1966 

when they reached Billy's house 
she commanded them to wait in 
the car. She waited for Billy to 
get out of the car and walked 
along the sidewalk with him. 
"Billy? What grade are you in?" 


"How is it that you can't read, 
and you're in the fifth grade?" 

He grinned impishly, "I mem- 
orize fast." 

She thought of the speed with 
which he had committed the 
second verse to memory. "But 
Billy! You're brilliant!" 

He shook his head. "I've got 
a block in my head. The doctor 
told my mother. I can't never 

When Jennie reached home. 
Rex was already there. He was 
eating a slice of leftover pump- 
kin pie and drinking some of the 
children's chocolate milk. "Don't 
quote calories!" he warned. 

She told him about Billy. He 
shrugged. "It happens." He took 
another drink of the milk. "The 
headlines awhile back were rich 
with the tidings that Johnny 
could not read. I thought they'd 
gone underground." 

Jennie went to the telephone. 
Rex looked up, alarmed. "Are 
you going to call his teacher?" 

"No, his mother." 

She dialed the number, won- 
dering how to broach so delicate 
a subject. Rex listened openly 
and with unfeigned interest. 

"Mrs. Wentworth, this is Jen- 
nie Starr . . . yes, Billy's Primary 
teacher. Why, thank you! Did he 
really say that?" 

"Flattery will get you no- 
where," Rex teased. 

She turned away. "I think 
Billy is one of the finest boys in 
our ward. Yes, I do." 

Mrs. Wentworth went at once 
to the heart of the trouble. "You 
have discovered Billy can't read." 
Her voice was low and weary. 

Jennie, taken aback, swal- 
lowed, unable to think of any- 
thing to say except the obvious. 

Mrs. Wentworth sighed. "I 
have four other children and a 
job. . . . We've had a lot of family 
trouble. But I did take Billy to 
the school psychologist ... on 
recommendation from the prin- 

"What did he say?" 

"He said Billy had a block 
. . . about reading. . . ." 

wIennie looked about her beau- 
tiful, shining kitchen. She re- 
membered the run-down little 
house that was Billy's. She had 
a swift picture of a determined, 
overworked mother, who simply 
had no time. Just that, no time. 

"Would you let me try, Mrs. 
Wentworth . . .?" 

Rex shook his head and looked 
at her in wonder and compassion 
as the telephone conversation 

"She'll let me," Jennie said in 
triumph, when she hung up the 

Rex watched her as she slid 
wearily into the chair across from 
him. "Don't you feel crowded in- 

"No. Should I?" 

"I wonder sometimes, all the 
people you take to your bosom. 
Billy Budd isn't yours." 

"He's my Trekker." She tilted 
her chin. 

"What kind of relationship is 

She rested her chin on her 
palm. "It's a teacher-student re- 
lationship. That's one of the best 



kinds." She leaned across the 
table. "Did you ever stop to think 
of all the relationships there are 
in the world?" 

"Yes," said Rex quickly. "You 
told me before." He regarded her 
thoughtfully. "You're really put- 
ting a lot of yourself into this 

Was she, then, trying too hard? 
Doing too much? Was he dis- 
appointed . . . was she neglecting 
some other facet of their lives? 
"Please tell me," she said, "if you 
would rather I didn't. Remember, 
you are the important one to 

Rex stood up. "What kind of 
a heel would I be to stand in the 
way of Billy Budd, or the others 
. . . and besides, have you any 
idea how beautiful you have 
grown lately?" 

In true feminine fashion, Jen- 
nie ran to a mirror to evaluate 
herself. She came back dejected- 
ly, "T can't see any difference. I 
think I'm getting fat." 

"I can see the difference," Rex 
said, "and you are not getting 
fat . . . just different." 

Billy came twice a week to sit 
in Jennie's kitchen and study 
words. He came on Saturday 
afternoons and Monday after 
school. Jennie had armed herself 
with word cards and books and 
a larger blackboard. 

Billy sat gingerly at the kitch- 
en table. He munched the apple 
she had offered him and was im- 
movable. "A is for apple. . . ." 
he snorted, "kid stuff!" He was 
scornful, but he could not read 
"apple" on the card she held up. 

"B is for ball." 

Billy looked longingly out the 
window where Lance was rolling 
snow. "I can't read," he said, 

"everybody's tried to make me. 
I can't. I have a block in my 

The baby woke up from his 
nap and shrieked for attention. 
Jennie left the book for Billy to 
study and ran upstairs to attend 
to Johnny's wants. The baby 
provided for, she knelt and 
prayed briefly and with fervor. 
"Let me not be one more failure 
in Billy's life . . . one more hope 
disintegrating under his fingers." 

She picked Johnny up and 
went downstairs and put him in 
his play pen in the family room. 
She stopped and listened to the 
sound of voices, Sabra's and 
Billy's. On tiptoe she went down 
the hall to the kitchen. 

Sabra, chin in hand, was ad- 
miring Billy from the vantage 
point of the high stool. "... but 
when you really won the game 
for us, was when you pitched 
against Joe Stevens ... he could 
not hit a single ball." She con- 
tinued with childish candor, "Are 
you always that wonderful?" 

"Yeah," said Billy confidently, 
"sometimes I'm better than that 
time. I'll be on the Yanks when 
I grow up." 

"You sure will," said Sabra, 
adoring the thought with him. 
"You'll probably be on all the 
football teams and the baseball 
teams of the United States of 

"Yeah," said Billy. "I'll prob- 
ably be real rich, but I won't 
change. I'll still be real good to 
people like you and your moth- 

Jennie watched as Sabra got 
down and went over to peer at 
the cards. "What are these for?" 

Billy squirmed. "Your mother 


MAY 1966 

wants me to do it . . . I'm doing 
it for her." 

"Oh." Sabra picked up a card. 
"1*11 hold them up for you. The 
way I learned to read was over 
and over and over on the ssime 
word until it stuck. Some words 
stick easy and some words stick 
hard." She held up a card, 

Billy leaned his face on his 
hands and began to perspire, "A 
is for apple." 

Sabra held up another. 

"B is for ball," Billy said scorn- 

Sabra nodded sagely, "What 
did I tell you! Ball is an easy 

Jennie went quietly into the 
living room and sat down with a 
magazine. After some twenty 
minutes she went back to the 
kitchen. Billy was on "M is for 

She took over the cards and 
reviewed him. He could read. She 
told him that. "You really know 
how. . . . It's just getting the 
words through. ..." 

Billy said, "Sometimes it's easy 
and sometimes I forget." 

No, she told him silently to 
herself, I believe that sometimes 
you are with an adult, who is a 
reminder of the terrifying world 
, . . and sometimes you are with 
someone like Sabra, who instinc- 
tively knows how to put you 
in the climate of receptivity. 
"Enough for one day," she told 


"Come on out," Billy offered 
largely to Sabra. "I'll show you 
how fast I can build a snowman." 

Jennie watched them from the 
kitchen window. Sabra, the re- 
mote, Sabra, the withdrawn, be- 
ing chased by a boy, having her 
face washed, screaming with fury 
and delight. 

Jennie turned to the task of 
peeling onions. She pushed back 
the hair from her forehead with 
the back of her hand. "People! 
Youngsters! Who could ever fig- 
ure them out!" 

Christmas crowded closer. Jen- 
nie had never been so busy . . . 
all the usual holiday parties, 
Billy's lessons, the Trekkers' re- 
hearsals ate up the hours. 

She bought presents in crowded 
moments. She rehearsed the boys 
with last-minute knitting cupped 
under her arm. She taught Billy 
while she sewed. 

Sabra's teacher. Miss Myers, 
came to call. Jennie fed her 
lemonade and fresh cookies. 

Miss Myers was a tall woman 
with a thin, sensitive face and 
long, bony fingers tipped with 
unpolished nails. "Sabra is an 
unusual child, Mrs. Starr." 

"We've wondered about her 
ourselves." Jennie smoothed her 
skirt. "We don't always under- 
stand her." 

"Her poetry is remarkable." 

"Poetry?" asked Jennie. 

"Oh, my, yes." Miss Myers 
nodded vigorously. "I've never 
read anything like it." 

Jennie bent her head. She 
could not say, I have not seen 
Sabra's poetry. She was silent. 

"I came to ask," said Miss 
Myers, after a pause, "if I might 
submit it." 



"Submit it?" asked Jennie, 

"Yes. ... I would like to very 
much . . . there is a place . . . 
that I thought might find room 
for it." 

"If you like," said Jennie stiff- 
ly. She sat very straight against 
the back of the chair. Why had 
not Sabra ever shown her the 
poems? Why did the child lead 
so solitary and quiet a life, shun- 
ning the parties and finding an 
apparent delight in solitude. Ex- 
cept for the inexplicable, to 
Jennie, friendship with Billy 
Wentworth, Sabra walked alone. 

Miss Myers rose; relief and an- 
ticipation made her face glisten. 
"It's been lovely. You know . . . 
I feel as though Sabra were my 
own child. I don't suppose you 
know that feeling . . . not being 
a teacher." 

"I know the feeling," said Jen- 
nie definitely, but without en- 
thusiasm. She closed the door on 
Miss Myers and went back to her 
knitting. It was all very well for 
her to feel that the Trekkers 
were her own, still, the thought 
of Miss Myers claiming Sabra, 
made the green envy rise like a 
tide. Not only that, but tears 
were splashing on the red yarn in 
her lap. She wiped them away 
with her fingertips and regarded 
the moisture curiously. Now 
why? It was the poetry . . . the 
secret of her child that belonged 
to another woman. Jennie jabbed 
the needles through the yarn and 
tossed the ball into the basket. 
She would have stew tonight. 
That would serve them right! 

She hadn't intended to tell 
Rex, but then, when could she 
ever keep anything from him? 

Anyway he guessed. 

"Stew!" He put the lid down 
unhappily. "Who is in the dog- 

"Nobody. We have to econo- 
mize sometimes." 

He came to her and lifted her 
chin. "Give!" he demanded. 

She told him about Miss Myers 
and the visit. He released Jennie 
and went to the windows. He 
stood with his back to her, but 
Jennie knew he was as upset as 
she. "Read the poems . . . just 
get them and read them." 


"Why not?" 

When she groped around in 
her mind for a good reason why 
not, she could find only one rea- 
son, "Brigham Young said a child 
had as much right to his privacy 
as a grownup . . . that they 
should have a chest to keep their 
treasures in . . . and a key be- 
sides. I guess he meant they had 
to have a comer of themselves 
for themselves." 

Rex turned angrily. "This is 
my house," he said, "bring me 
the poems." 

Jennie shook her head. "I 
can't. You'll have to get them." 

"I'll order Sabra to bring them 
to me," he said firmly. "Parents 
have a right to know what their 
children are thinking and doing." 

But that's the letter of the 
law, not the spirit, Jennie 
thought, it's like going into a 
secret garden and tearing up the 
ground to see what your child 
has planted. Jennie went to Rex 
and took his arm. It was her 
fault. Her manner of telling it 
had made Rex angry and con- 
fused. "Let's wait . . . just a little 


MAY 1966 

He did not want to wait. "I'll 
think about it," he said. He went 
out to help Lora put her sled in 
the garage, his parting shot, "But 
no more Brigham Young, if you 
don't mind." 

Jennie shivered. The year was 
going by so swiftly, and she was 
pushing all the wrong buttons. 

Christmas, for Jennie, that 
year, was to be forever remem- 
bered by two events. One was the 
surprising success of the Trekker 
chorus. Not only were they the 
hit of the Christmas party, but 
they were asked to repeat their 
performance for Sunday night 
sacrament service and for three 
other wards during the holidays. 

Jennie and Rex, hurrying the 
boys here and there in the two 
cars, found themselves again and 
again the center of congratula- 
tory groups. 

"They make me feel such a 
heel," said Rex. "And in the first 
place I had nothing to do with 

Jennie hugged him briefly. 
"But we couldn't even get to 
these places without you to drive 
us, and I couldn't handle them, 
without you to help me." 

Rex put his arm around her 
and drove home more slowly. "I 
still don't see how you did it . . . 
the voices, I mean." 

Jennie yawned sleepily. "The 
voices were theirs . . . the dis- 
cipline was only acres of chocolate 

"Wasn't that bribery?" 

She snuggled against him. "Is 
not heaven bribery?" she said 
quickly, "I really didn't mean 
that the way it sounded . . . only 
people think that if you give 
children something to sweeten 
the task at hand . . . it's wrong 

. . . but it's these glimpses I've 
had of heaven, that make me put 
my shoulder more firmly to the 
wheel when lots of times I'd 
rather not." 

Rex kissed her. "What's your 
heaven, my dear?" 

She looked at him soberly. 
"You are my heaven . . . laugh 
if you like . . . but without you 
... I can't get where I want to 
go . . . nor take my children with 

But Rex was mutinous, though 
he understood. 

The second thing that hap- 
pened was Christmas morning. 
She had gone down early, she 
and Rex, to be sure, they told 
each other, that nothing had 
happened to the gifts overnight. 
But, in reality, to be there when 
the first eager footstep was heard. 

The living room gleamed with 
tinsel and holly and glittering 
baubles. The tree towered green 
and silver and pink. Underneath 
the laden branches were the over- 
flowing piles of gifts. 

"Nobody in the world has as 
many uncles and aunts as we 
have," Rex said ruefully. 

"Uncles and aunts are thor- 
oughly legal. At least we can say 
that we didn't spoil the children 
by ourselves." 

Rex leaned down to examine 
the gifts the children had left. 
He picked up one package and 
peered at it. It was flat and 
very smooth. "A game?" He 
rattled it under his ear. 

Jennie came close to look. "It's 
from Sabra to us. It must be a 
game, but such a flat game." She 
took it away from him and then 
smoothed the paper wrapping. "I 
think I'll open it." 



He looked at her reprovingly. 
"Before any of the rest of them 
get here?" 

"Yes." She was shaking with 
a sudden knowledge. She tore it 
open. It was a handmade book, 
cardboard covers holding securely 
the neatly typed contents. The 
title of the book was, "Poems for 
My Father and Mother," by 
Sabra Starr. 

Jennie and Rex looked long at 
each other until the mist of their 
tears obscured their sight. 

"It was for us . . . the secret 
..." said Rex, "that was why 
she didn't tell us ... or show us." 

Jennie said, "I feel sick . . . 
suppose we had insisted she show 
us. . . ." 

He took the book from her and 
opened the cover. 

My father comes in from the eve- 

With love in his arms like a bas- 
ket .. . 

In it we are gathered like apples, 

I and my brothers. 

My father has stars on his fore- 

But he does not know this. . . . 

He has singing inside him, 

But he does not know the words. 

Jennie wept, great bouncing 
tears. Rex stood grimly in silence 
for a long time. Then he said 
gruffly, "You can ask Brigham 
Young to dinner any time." They 
were still laughing when the chil- 
dren began their Christmas de- 

{To he continued) 


Annie Atkin Tanner 

I never feel a May breeze touch my face 

But I see apple blossoms 

Pink and fragrant, 

Leaning on a brown and aging fence. 

In memory I see a pear tree standing 

With all its pristine whiteness 

Veiled in moonlight, 

And on its topmost branch a mocking bird 

Singing joyously. 

As if the whole world heard his song. 

I never listen to a spring wind 

Shake the branches by my window, 

But I see a lilac bush 

With heart-shaped leaves 

And purple sprays of blossoms, 

Drooping in the evening rain. 

Then all the years between are gone 
And I am young and home again. 



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Time of Farewell 

Leora Larsen 

Brenda Jean wasn't even a year old when her mother left her 
with me for two weeks. For a long time afterward, when she came 
with her parents to visit me, and it was time to go, her tears were 
copious. She refused to kiss me goodbye because she hated to go. 
Then, tonight I saw her waving and smiling, as their car drove away. 
Such a smile! Almost as if she knew her return would be soon and 
home was a fine place to be going. 

Little girl, tonight you taught me something. 
Life is like this. We approach it with quiet fear, 
Learn that it is wondrous good and, when all its 
Splendor is yet warm, we must learn to smile and 
Wave goodbye. If our cry is loud, if fear for 
The end makes us frantic, we must still learn to 
Smile and wave goodbye. 


(^, ^ 

^^ ^- 


Eva Willes Wangsgaard 



M ^ 

Along the highway, mile on mile of these 
Rich hanging gardens flaunt their coral bloom; 
Pink clouds of fragrance over russet trees, 
Blue skies for contrast, all the hills for room. 
Once these were desert hills where rabbitbrush 
And greasewood held their stubborn, bitter way, 
n flowering gold or gray-green in the hush 
Of snow's receding from the lengthening day. 
Great was the faith of men who set trees here, 
Channeled the life-rich silver of the streams, 
Visioned a harvest in some future year. 
Joyed in the challenge to their strength and dreams 
How beautiful upon the hills are shown 
Their footprints cast in petal, fruit, and stone 




Relief Society Activities 

AH material submitted for publication in this department should be sent 
through the stake Relief Society presidents, or mission Relief Society super- 
visors. One annual submission will be accepted, as space permits, from each 
stake and mission of the Church. Submissions should be addressed to the 
Editorial Department, Relief Society Magazine, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111. 
For details regarding pictures and descriptive material, see The Relief Society 
Magazine for January 1966, page 50. 

Pocatello Stake (Idaho), Nineteenth Ward Singing Mothers Present 
Music for Many Occasions 

Front row: At the left, Judy Bennett, accompanist; fourth from the left, 
Marie Armitage, President, Pocatello Nineteenth Ward Relief Society; at the 
right, Hazel Christiansen, chorister. 

Second row: Fourth from the left, Joyce Hanks, social science class leader; 
sixth from the left, Alice Ingebretsen, work meeting leader; at the right, 
Eleda Stacy, Work Counselor. 

Third row: At the left, Irene Yarger, Secretary -Treasurer, Pocatello Nine- 
teenth Ward Relief Society; Erma Thornock, Education Counselor; fifth from 
the left, Hazel Bolingbroke, visiting teacher message leader; at the right, 
Marilyn Armstrong, theology class leader. 

Emily S. Romish, President, Pocatello Stake Relief Society, reports: "The 
Singing Mothers of the Pocatello Nineteenth Ward have been most outstanding 
in their chorus activities. They have an enrollment of eighty-three. Recently, 
when I attended the literature meeting, there were fifty-three sisters in 
attendance. They have two nurseries, with fifteen or more in each section. 
The Singing Mothers practice each Thursday from nine to ten in the morning, 
at which time Relief Society meetings start. They sing for sacrament meetings 
and special programs and present concerts regularly for the two rest homes in 
Pocatello. They have also presented music for meetings in other wards, and for 
funerals. They also sing each year for the stake preparation meeting. All the 
members of the presidency are Singing Mothers, as are most of the class 


MAY 1966 

San Diego East Stake (California) Magazine Representatives 

Honored at a Luncheon 

February 4, 1966 

Left to right: Annie Tenney, stake Magazine representative; Helen Stevens, 
Lakeside Ward; Wilda Fowles, LaMesa Ward; Ida Brown, LaMesa Second 
Ward; Hannah Brown, El Cajon Third Ward; Clara Mosteller, El Cajon 
Second Ward; Bettey Miller, called as stake Magazine representative to re- 
place Sister Tenney, 

Lydia Wilkensen, El Cajon Ward, was not present at the time the picture 
was taken, 

Reha Gale, President, San Diego East Stake Relief Society, reports: "The 
occasion was a luncheon honoring the ward Magazine representatives, following 
the leadership meeting. The theme of the luncheon was 'The Magazine — Heart 
of Relief Society.' The tables were beautifully decorated with red hearts and 
roses, with the Magazine as center of each heart. 

"A lovely afternoon was spent with the stake board, the ward presidents, and 
ward Magazine representives. Each of the Magazine representatives was 
presented with a lovely handmade handkerchief for selling over 100 per cent 
subscriptions in each ward. Each sister accepted the challenge to place 'The 
Heart of Relief Society' in each home." 

South Carolina Stake Singing Mothers Present Concert 

December 4, 1965 

Elizabeth M. Perry, President, South Carolina Stake Relief Society, reports: 
"Approximately 100 singers participated in this concert. Our chapel was 
beautifully decorated with Christmas flowers. The sisters made a lovely picture 
with their white blouses, black skirts, and red Christmas corsages. This was 
our first Singing Mothers concert, with twelve out of fourteen wards and 
branches participating. Our sisters traveled many miles and spent many hours 
practicing. We were delighted with the response to this concert, and feel that 
it was well worth the effort. The officers of South Carolina Stake Relief 
Society are: President Elizabeth M. Perry, First Counselor Lottie Joyner, 
Second Counselor Vern Fagan, and Secretary-Treasurer Norma Grice." 

Glendale Stake (California) Yuletide Festival 
December 17, 1965 

Left to right, stake leaders: Edythe Fairbanks, Magazine representative, as 
"Mrs. Santa"; Florence Dalton, Work Counselor; Virgie Fischbeck, theology 
class leader, 

Edna A. Beal, President, Glendale Stake Relief Society, reports: "Our 'Mrs. 
Santa's Kitchen,' featuring 'The Best Cooks This Side of Heaven,' thrilled all 
those who attended the Glendale Stake Yuletide Festival. 

"Members and nonmembers were delighted with displays and demonstrations 
of Christmas decorations. An excellent original play 'Our Gift to God,' written 
by Education Counselor Leah Frandsen, with the theme of Family Night, 
climaxed a most outstanding evening. LaCanada Ward choir furnished beauti- 
ful Christmas music. 

"This most successful fund-raising event was made possible by the combined 
efforts of the members of the stake board, in addition to the sisters in the 
picture: Ruth Gough, Secretary-Treasurer; Nancy Scott, work meeting leader; 
Joyce Swainston, chorister; Ola Davis, organist; Jessie Schade, visiting teacher 
message leader; Jody Acton, social science class leader; and Barbara Moffat, 
literature class leader." 


MAY 1966 

North British Mission, Grimsby District Presidency Christmas Party 

November 27, 1965 

Left to right: Elizabeth Hickman, President, Grimsby District Rehef 
Society; Blanche E. Payne, Supervisor, North British Mission Relief Society; 
Patricia Rogers, First Counselor, Grimsby District Relief Society; Ann Eley, 
Secretary-Treasurer, North British Mission Relief Society; Stephanie Hill, 
District Secretary-Treasurer; Norma Sepp, Mission Assistant; Betty Browne, 
Second Counselor, Grimsby District Relief Society; Marjorie R. Jenner, 
Second Counselor, North British Mission Relief Society. 

Alice A. Hughes, President of the North British Mission Relief Society, 
reports: "The Grimsby District Relief Society Presidency held a Christmas 
party, to which all the sisters of the district, and their husbands, were invited. 
This was one of the first large social gatherings to be held in the beautiful 
new Scunthorpe chapel. Many investigators and inactive members participated. 
It was a spiritual and enjoyable evening. There were party games, old-time 
and modern dancing. After supper, each sister received a small gift presented 
by 'Father Christmas' from his sleigh. The evening's entertainment ended with 
three short plays presented by a local dramatic society." 

Central British Mission, Worcester District Relief Society Song Festival 

February 15, 1966 

Front row, seated, left to right, beginning second from the left: Olive Corbin, 
Second Counselor; Audrey Wharrad, First Counselor; Gwendalyn Smart, chor- 
ister; Edna Byrne, President. 

Back row, standing, at the left: Gillian Brown-Lee, Secretary-Treasurer. 

Eileen Dunyon, Supervisor, Central British Mission Relief Society, reports: 
"All the sisters wore colorful 'old-time' costumes, as they presented a beautiful 
song festival with 'Testimonies of Joy,' as the theme for the occasion. The 
composers and authors of Church music and words were brought back to life 
by the enactment of one outstanding feature taken from each individual life. At 
the close of the festival, two young flower girls handed a bouquet to the 
chorister, and a Victorian Posy to the pianist, and every sister in the hall was 
presented with a spray." 

Provo Stake (Utah) Magazine Representatives Honored at Leadership Meeting 

January 21, 1966 

Front row, left to right: Deseret Bullock, stake Magazine representative; 
Kathrine Smith, Seventh Ward representative; Verena Decker, President, 
Seventh Ward Relief Society. 

Back row, left to right. Magazine representatives: Bonnie Wright, Sixteenth 
Ward; Viola Henderson, Fifth Ward; Fanny Harrison, First Ward; Elsie 
Moffitt, Manavu Ward; Orrissia Liddiard, Tenth Ward. 

Jane M. Call, President, Provo Stake Relief Society, reports: "The Provo 
Stake was organized in February 1938. Since that time the Provo Stake Relief 
Society has been on the Magazine Honor Roll every year except one. This year 
the stake Relief Society offered a lovely floral arrangement to the ward which 
could get the most new subscriptions to the Magazine, from October 1965 to 
January 1966. The floral arrangement was made at a leadership meeting in the 
work department and displayed for all the sisters to see. 

"On January 21, 1966, at leadership meeting, all of the Magazine representa- 
tives were honored for their outstanding work. Due to the drive, there was a 
total of 154 new subscriptions to the Magazine. The floral arrangement was 
presented to the Seventh Ward for having forty-three new subscriptions. 
Kathrine Smith, the Magazine representative for the Seventh Ward, was 
eighty years old in February 1966. She has recently learned how to knit, so 
that she will have something to do in her old age." 



The Man on the Street 

Maria A. Zickbauer 

■The man stood on the street. Hour after hour, the people passed by i 
going in different directions. The young with zest, and the old with care. 
Some aspired laboriously to the heights — others rushed along carefree. 

He spoke to each with outstretched hand, he displayed the precious gift 
to the quick glances of the people, to whom he offered the small valuable, 
with a smile on his face. 

Most of them had hardly time to glance at him or at his offer. All were 
very much in a hurry to arrive some place; many threw him halting and 
despondent looks. Every once in awhile one would come to stop; perhaps, 
only in order to recover his breath, and to risk a cautious glimpse. 

Several asked the price. One — where one could buy this wonderful work. 
It was a small watch, in extraordinarily fine setting. It appeared to be made 
from choice material. 

The answer was always the same: "It is a present for you — it cannot 
be bought. Take it and guard it carefully." 

Distrust was predominant. Yes, even malicious accusations. 

Evening came, and the man still had his gift — which no one was willing 
to accept. 


I was also on a street and very much like the others. I was in a hurry, 
despondent and restless. Hunting for happiness; searching for peace. 

I was also accosted by a quiet voice and I glanced at the outstretched 
hand, but I was not conscious of the present. A friendly smile in the eyes 
appeared to pierce my searching heart. 

Where had I known this singular feeling. Where had I heard this voice 

"Purchase gold from me for nothing!" 

Perhaps I did not want to decline or offend that friendly smile, but 
before I knew what had transpired, the precious gift was in my hands. My 
fearful questions "Where and how can I hide it with care?" 

"Place it in thy heart." 

Then I was alone, but not really alone! Never agaiin! 

Soon I was to experience the manner of the gold that I had obtained 
through obedience. It was and is a new light in my eyes, a sweet melody to 
my ear, knowledge and wisdom to my thoughts, joy and peace to my heart; 
health to my body, the precious decoration to the children of God — the 
Grood News. 

I recognized the giver — the Great Master and knew that he was the goal 
of my constant search and yearning. 

Praise be to his love! 

Thanks to the man on the street. 


Leone O. Jacobs 

I love you, Mother dear, more than I have before, 
Now that I am older, more mature. 
I see your noble character in clearer light today, 
The more, sad truth, since you have slipped away. 

You taught me faith, and all my doubts erased, 
You taught me work, its dignity and grace. 
You taught me gratitude for common things, 
The satisfaction willing service brings. 

I understand you, Mother dear, more than I have before, 
Traveling the selfsame road as you in days of yore. 
I too my progeny have reared, 
I know the problems and the pitfalls that you feared. 

Thank you, dear God, for Mother, 
For all she represents. 
And would that I might be to mine 
Of equal consequence. 


Lesson Department 

Development Through 
Homemaking Education 

Margaret P. Childs 

Chairman, Clothing and Textiles Department 
Brigham Young University 


Northern Hemisphere: Second Meeting, August 1966 
Southern Hemisphere: January 1967 

Objective: To show how to extend wear-life of clothing 

by systematic, good care. 


The sense of well-being and ad- 
equacy which homemakers enjoy 
when they can provide clean and 
appropriate clothing for each 
member of the family to wear in 
all of their various activities, is 
well worth striving for. Unfor- 
tunately, many of us never reach 
that goal. In the mistaken idea 
that more clothes are needed, we 
tend to acquire an ever-increasing 
wardrobe and, thereby, further 
complicate the problem. An over- 
supply of clothes takes a toll of 
time, money, and energy for 
handling, care, and storage out 
of all proportion to its usefulness. 
Wise choice of each wardrobe 
item, then, is the first step in 
clothing care. But for the purpose 

of this discussion, we are con- 
cerned with the actual "care 
techniques" which extend the 
wear-life of clothing. 

The working tools of clothing 
care are a systematic routine, 
some good technical skills, and a 
basic understanding of the factors 
involved in clothing care. When 
the laundry or ironing piles up 
or clothes are not wearable be- 
cause a seam has to be restitched 
or a strap mended, we might as 
well not own the clothes. They 
are only useful when they are in 
wearable condition. 

Mother should not try to do 
all the work herself and deprive 
the family of a chance to learn 
and to share the work. Children 
appreciate their possessions more 



when they are responsible for 


The most effective laundry pro- 
cedures, regardless of the kind 
of equipment used, will be based 
upon these factors: 

1. Pre-spot bad soil and stains. 

2. Sort clothes for color, soil, and 
fiber content. Wash dark and light 
colors separately. Do not wash badly 
soiled articles with lightly soiled ones. 
Never wash white synthetics with 
colored clothes. 

3. Pre-soak soiled clothing in cool 
water for 10 to 15 minutes to loosen 
and float away some of the soil that 
hot water would set in the clothes. 
Some soap or detergent may be added 
to make the soak period more effec- 
tive. A chlorine bleach, in measured 
amounts, will aid soil, stain and bac- 
teria removal. Do not overbleach. 

4. Wash in very hot (soft or con- 
ditioned) water to which a proper 
amount of soap or detergent has been 
added. Prolonged washing may dam- 
age fabric, and a too-short period of 
agitation will not remove all the soil. 
Too much or too little soap is equally 

5. Rinse thoroughly to remove all 
detergent, bleach, and remaining soil. 
Use fabric softeners only occasionally. 
Starch clothes that require body, or 
that will resist soiling better when 
they are smoother or stiffer. 

6. Dry in sunlight or dry in tumble 
dryers to the just-dry state, as over- 
drying damages fabrics. Some colors, 
and all nylons, silks, and wools, are 
best dried out of sunlight which will 
deteriorate them. The brighteners 
used in many detergents on the mar- 
ket to brighten colors and whiten 
whites also deteriorate and become 
ineffective in sunlight. However, sun- 
light has a bleaching and sanitizing 
effect. Cottons smell fresher when 
sun-dried. Heat-sensi^'ve fibers and 
wash-wear cottons are permanently 
wrinkled by high temperature and 
overdrying. Read labels on clothing 
for instructions on proper care. Freez- 
ing helps bleach cotton, but frozen 
fabrics are easily damaged by han- 
dling. Boiling also bleaches, but weak- 

ens fabrics, and high temperatures 
speed the damage of bleaches and 
strong soaps. 


Good ironing requires: 

1. Uniform dampening and ironing 
within twelve hours after dampening. 
Mildew forms quickly in warm tem- 
peratures and even when the odor 
and color can be removed, mildew 
damage is permanent. 

2. Iron with temperature adjusted to 
the fabric and fabric finish. Scorch is 
permanent damage, even when the 
color is bleached away. 

3. A well-padded, clean, smooth 
ironing surface on a board of comfort- 
able height. Soiled ironing surfaces 
give up scorch and soil to damp clean 

4. Skill in the use of the iron. Iron- 
ing with fabric grain, and ironing the 
underside of thick areas first are 
helpful techniques. 

5. Careful folding or hanging of 
ironed garments. 


To press successfully: 

1. Thoroughly brush away lint and 
dirt which damage color and fiber. 

2. Choose the right press cloth — 
tissue paper for sheer fabrics, wool 
or canvas for woolens and worsteds. 
Always use the same side down. 

3. Dampen uniformly with a sponge 
avoiding excess moisture. 

4. Suit the iron temperature to the 

5. Press, do not iron. Steam alone 
will relax most wrinkles which can 
then be brushed away or pressed with 
the hand. 

6. Shape different areas with rolled 
towels, press cushions, or sleeve 


Some types of soil permanently 
bond to fabrics if not removed 
immediately. In general, wash 
fabrics can be treated by home 
methods, and dry-clean fabrics 
are best cleaned by professional 
cleaners, but there are exceptions. 


MAY 1966 

It is best not to try to remove 
anything from non- washable fab- 
rics that will not come out with 
clear cool water. Clothes should 
be cleaned before becoming too 
badly soiled. Tell the cleaner 
what caused the spots and what 
you did, if anything, to remove 
them. For wash fabrics, pre-treat 
blood, egg, meat, catsup, ink, and 
similar stains with cool water. 
Rub detergent into soil caused 
by body oils, grass, tar, cosmetics, 
oil, greasy foods, and perspira- 
tion. Then rinse with clear water. 
Harden gum and candle wax with 
ice and pick off the fabric. Pour 
boihng water from a height 
(about elbow height) through 
fruit juice stains. Grass and ball- 
point pen ink can be removed by 
soaking in alcohol, but it may 
damage colors. A helpful bulletin 
for home use is the U. S. Depart- 
ment of Agriculture bulletin "Re- 
moving Spots and Stains from 
Fabrics." (Suggest your own na- 
tional government sources.) 


Seasonal clothes should be 
stored when not in use to protect 
from dust, mildew, strong light, 
and insects. Moth and carpet 
beetles feed on wool, silk, hair, 
and feathers. While cedar chests 
and moth balls help some, the 
best insurance is airtight stor- 
age of thoroughly cleaned and 
brushed garments. Silver fish eat 
rayons and other cellulose fibers. 
These insects breed in damp 
cracks and sometimes require 
fumigation to rid a home from 
their damage. Dust destroys 
colors and wears fibers. Store 
clothes where they cannot collect 


Techniques described herein could 
well be demonstrated, such as: Laun- 
dering helps, correct ironing pro- 
cedures, pressing a man's or woman's 
suit, spotting techniques for various 
fabrics, or storage facilities. Some 
demonstrations of the care of the new 
"wash and wear" fabrics may also 
be helpful. 


Bernice Ames 

The two-minded sea 

Advances, retreats 

Breaks on shore to run whole again. 

Mollusks in the shifting green hammock 

Away in currents that fling them 

Against rock 

Opening a way for escape. 

Empty periwinkle and moon shell, 
Empty scallop and cowry 
Tumble in the lottery of water 
Rolled to the beach, 
Holding only an echo of life 
And taken 
By the sea. 


Plan a Murdock Tour Now! 

The following personally-escorted, all-expense-paid tours all include the 
highest quality carriers and accommodations at surprisingly low cost: 

L.D.S. Temples Tour 

1 1 days 

Leaves April 1 8th 

(Oakland, L.A., St. George, 


Hawaii Tour 

1 2 days 

Leaves May 1 4th 

European Highlights 

21 days 

Leaves June 9th 

Temples & Lake Louise 

1 2 days (bus) 

Leaves July 1 1th 

(Cardston, Idaho, Logan) 

Scandinavian Vikings Tour 

21 days 

Leaves July 1 2th 

Hill Cumorah Pageant Tour 

1 5 days (bus and 

air) Leaves July 1 5th 

Hill Cumorah Pageant Tour 

8 days (air) 

Leaves July 26th 

Hill Cumorah Pageant Tour 

1 5 days (bus and 

air) Leaves July 29th 

Yellowstone, Passion Play Mt. 


8 days 

Leaves August 1 3th 

Hawaii Tour 

1 • < 

1 days 

Leaves September 1 0th 

Murdock Travel Inc., 14 So. Main, Salt Lake City, Utah • 

Please send information on tour no : • 

Name J 

Address • 

City... State ; 

R.S. May '66 I 


Gayla Ann Larsen 

Spring is your smile, 
Summer, your kiss, 
Autumn, your silence- 
Winter is parting like this. 


Rowena Jensen Bills 

The little things we talk about — 

Bits of this and that, 

How charming was the poem she read 

And color of her hat. 

The dinner menu, the baby's teeth, 

And did the headache Jast? 

Superficial gaieties 

Of future and of past. 

Yet deep affection, trusting love, 

In every carefree phrase. 

Sister-talk, friendship-talk. 

Fulfillment of joyous days. 



Ethel Jacobson 

Dazzle lies 

On leaf and stream — 

A dancing brilliance, 

A quicksilver gleam. 

Wherever the live oak 

Canopy parts, 

The sun's massed archers 

Loose their darts 

To splinter on eddy, 

Stone, and stem, 

IVIaking a shattered 

Mirror of them. 

Reflecting each other 


A fluid, 

Shimmering bedight 

Landscape less of land 

Than light. 


Armoral Kent 

Words are such hasty things, 
Yet they may mean 
All that can ever be. 
All that has been. 

Words are such little things, 
Yet they may make 
Destinies totter. 
Centuries shake. 

Words are so uniform. 
Yet they may be 
Anything, everything, 
To you and me. 



Pots and pans stay 

"white glove" 


If it's electric, it's better! 

Cardston and Idaho Falls 

June M, 1966 

Time for those who wish to 
go to temples 


Northwest Tour 

June 25 — July 2 

Hill Cumorah Tours 

July 1966 

Summer Paradise 
Hawaiian Tour 

July 23 

Black Hills Passion Play Tour 

August 21 

New England— Canadian 
Fall Tour 

September 3 

James Travel Tours 

460 7th Avenue 

Salt Lake City, Utah 84103 

Phcnes: 363-5229 - 359-8051 


Tour Europe 
first class for 
less than ^17 a day! 

A 22-day "Priceless" escorted tour of 1 1 countries costs as 
little as $368. Includes first-class hotels, most meals, air-con- 
ditioned motor coaches, sightseeing. 



Murdock Travel, Inc. * 
14 South Main St. / Salt Lake City, Utah 

Phone: 328-3161 I 



Gentlemen: Please send me full particulars on your • 

$ 17-a-day tour of Europe. * 


Name • 


Address • 


City State Zip ! 

R.S. May '66 • 



A sure way of keeping alive the valuable in- 
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. 

Moil or bring the editions you wish bound to 
the Deseret News Press for the finest of service. 

1600 Empire Road, Salt Lake City, Utah 84104 
Phone 486-1892 

Cloth Cover — $3.25; Leather Cover — $5.25 

Yearly Index Included 

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 

Zone 1 and 2 55 

Zone 3 60 

Zone 4 65 

Zone 5 80 

Zone 6 90 

Zone 7 1.05 

Zone 8 1.20 


April 21, 1966 

Ship one way 

April 27, 1966 

Flying both ways 


June 12, 1966 
Flying both ways 




Ask us about our 
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Margaret Lund Tours 

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Salt Lake City, Utah 

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San Francisco, California 

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Norwalk, California 

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Provo, Utah 

Mrs. Florence Oyler Blackburn 
Loa, Utah 

Mrs. Annie Smith Lamb 
St. Hubert 
Quebec, Canada 

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Menan, Idaho 

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Pocatello, Idaho 

Mrs. Henrietta Watson Barben 
Delta, Utah 

Mrs. Emma Butler Maxfield 
Bakersfield, California 

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Salt Lake City, Utah 

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Sacramento, California 

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Monroe, Utah 

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Logan, Utah 

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St. George, Utah 


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Springville, Utah 

Mrs Elizabeth Scott Lyman 
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Tucson, Arizona 


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A man-made mountain of 
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PURE 1^ 


JUNE 1966 
Volume 53 Number 6 





Christie Lund Coles 

The mountains form a necklace for my town, 
Green as amethyst or the rarest jade; 
Sunlight falls like gold-dust from a crown; 
Clouds embroider the sky of delphinium shade. 

Each eye is entranced when looking on this scene, 
Where maples border walks; where water moves 
Silverly humming tunes; reflecting green 
Of dainty willows which the memory loves. 

Here, sometimes, just at dusk an organ plays. 
Or carillon chimes peel out from some far tower; 
This is a moment when the spirit prays, 
Knowing a sacred, sanctifying hour. 

I thank God for this moment and this spot, 
So richly given and so dearly bought. 

The Cover: Machupicchu, Peru 

Transparency by Vernon Sharp 
I Lithographed in Full Color by Deseret News Press 

Frontispiece: Kamas Valley, Utah, Photograph by Dorothy J. Roberts 

Art Layout: Dick Scopes 

Illustrations: Mary Scopes 

'/vmu^ i/eof 

For a long time I have wanted to say 
thanks for our little Magazine which I 
enjoy so very much. I love the lessons, 
the stories, and the poetry. The Poem 
"On the Mountain" (by Melba S. 
Payne) in the March issue was espe- 
cially thrilling because I could imme- 
diately recognize the mountains and 
the town the author wrote about. I feel 
that I must have grown up in the very 
same valley. 

June B. Jensen 
Orem, Utah 

I want to tell you how delighted we are 
with the Magazine. Each issue is even 
more beautiful and inspiring, and its 
arrival is eagerly awaited. The beauti- 
ful colored pictures add so much to the 
appearance, and the accompanying 
articles are well written. I particularly 
enjoyed the description of the "White 
Sands" (by Claire W. Noall, April 1966), 
and in memory relived an unforgettable 
afternoon our family spent there. In 
our stake we were thrilled with the 
lovely reproduction of the quilt made 
by Nellie H. Smith (March 1966). 
Sister Smith lives In the Eleventh Ward 
of Mesa Stake. 

Ada J. Jones 


Mesa (Arizona) Stake 

Relief Society 

As a one-year-old convert to the Church 
and as literature class leader in our 
ward, I realize what an important part 
our Magazine plays in my life and work. 
This Magazine is superb. I shall ever 
be grateful for its excellence of quality 
and the stimulating spiritual diet it 
provides. Its influence is apparent in 
homemaking and in studying, and it is 
invaluable in strengthening those ties 
of love and understanding which unite 
our sisterhood. The poetry delights me, 
the stories instruct and warm me. 

Rae A. Williams 

Avondale, Auckland 

New Zealand 

Thank you for placing the picture of 
the Ricks College Stake Relief Society 
Board in the March 1966 Magazine. 
At our stake board meeting last week, 
each member gave a personal experi- 
ence concerning the picture. The col- 
lege dormitory mother said the girls 
flocked into her apartment to congratu- 
late her on being in the picture. Many 
of the girls are going to put the picture 
in their Books of Remembrance. An- 
other board member said that her 
friend whom she hadn't seen for thirty 
years wrote saying she had seen the 
picture in the Magazine. 

Lisle L. Andrus 


Ricks College Stake 

Relief Society 

Rexburg, Idaho 

After reading the March 1966 issue of 
our Relief Society Magazine, I felt com- 
pelled to express my gratitude for the 
talents of its many contributors. I was 
especially inspired and motivated by 
the prize-winning story written by Lael 
Littke ("The Search for Katie"). It 
seemed to have been written as an 
answer to the anxieties of finding my 
present identity. As a young mother, I, 
too, have been facing the same ques- 
tions that Sister Littke wrote about; 
and, after her story, I feel satisfied and 
blessed with my role as wife and moth- 
er in my lovely home. I pray that our 
Magazine may continue to be a guide 
and inspiration to the women of today. 

Linda M. Staley 
Hunter, Utah 

I have subscribed to The Relief Society 
Magazine for many years, and think It 
is the best little Magazine ever. I 
especially enjoyed the article "Under 
the Surface." by Ruth House in the 
December 1965 issue. She lives in our 
home town, so I felt I had a glimpse of 

Edith S. Marshall 
Holbrook, Arizona 


The R^li^f Society Magazine 

Volume 53 June 1966 Number 6 

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 Relief Society Magazine in Spanish Marion G. Romney 

408 James A. CuUimore Appointed Assistant to the Council of the Twelve 

420 Annual Report for 1965 Hulda P. Young 

430 Mexico City Claire W. Noall 


415 Wheat for the Wise — Chapter 6 Margery S. Stewart 

Generai Features 

402 From Near and Far 

410 Editorial: A Relief Society History Making Event Belle S. Spafford 

412 Editorial: The 136th Annual General Church Conference 

414 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon 

453 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities 

480 Birthday Congratulations 

Tlie i-iome- inside and Out 

437 Festival of the Dolls 

438 Antique Your Plastic Flowers Dorothy J. Roberts 

442 Holiday in Rhjrme Bazaar 

443 Kitchen Crafts on Display 

443 Colorful Clown Attends Family Night Fun Bazaar 

444 German Holiday Buffet Carla Sansom 

445 Fun for Two Alice Willardson 

447 The Gleaners (Millet) Floyd Breinholt 

448 The Three Wise Men 

449 Home Is a Place for Handicraft 

452 Our Special Garden Helen M. Peterson 

Lesson Department 

460 Spiritual Living — Preview of Lessons for 1966-67 Roy W. Doxey 

462 Visiting Teacher Messages — Preview of Lessons for 1966-67 

Alice Colton Smith 

464 Homemaking — Preview of Lessons for 1966-67 Celestia J. Taylor 

466 Social Relations — Preview of Lessons for 1966-67 Alberta H. Christensen 

468 Cultural Refinement — Preview of Lessons for 1966-67 Robert K. Thomas 

471 Notes on New Authors of the Lessons 

472 Homemaking — Does Your Home Have a Personality? Hazel S. Cannon 


401 My Town Christie Lund Coles 

Lift the Heart to Gladness, Catherine B. Bowles, 407; Garden Kaleidoscope, Eva 
Willes Wangsgaard, 440; Summer and Sleeping Bags, Mabel Jones Gabbott, 470; 
The Morning Skies Are Fair and Bright, Vilate R. McAllister, 475; To a Hurt 
Child, Alda L. Brown, 478; Absolutes, Vesta Nickerson Fairbairn, 478; Wasted 
Hours, Ruth G. Rothe, 478; My Hour, Pearle M. Olsen, 480. 

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day 
Saints. '^-'' 1966 by the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main 
Street, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone 364-2511; Subscription Price $2.00 a year; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c 
a copy, payable in advance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers can be sup- 
plied. 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 Oc- 
tober 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 manu- 

to Emma Ray Riggs McKay June 23, 1966 

■ The birthday of beloved Emma Ray Riggs McKay is a time for 
expressing love and appreciation, a time of gratitude for her presence 
among us. In this time of early summer when her home valley is 
radiant with blossoms, the birthday of Emma Ray Riggs McKay will 
be observed. She has been the beloved wife, helpmate, and companion 
of President McKay for sixty-five years. The General Board of Relief 
Society and the members of the world-wide sisterhood extend love 
and greetings to a beautiful and exemplary woman who has expressed 
in her own life the lofty and gracious ideals of devoted womanhood. 

Emma Ray Riggs McKay is appreciated by her children as a kind 
and loving mother who has accepted wholeheartedly the respon- 
sibilities of family life and has rejoiced in the abundant blessings 
that come to a woman in that all-important kingdom of the home. 
She has created and maintained a gracious atmosphere in many ways. 
Her disciplined and lovely speaking voice has been greatly admired 
— her quiet words, her precise diction, and her way of finding the 
kindest phrasing to bring the blessings of peace to her household. 
Her high regard for the proper function of words has been a marked 
cultural influence— slang words and incorrect grammar not being 
permitted, but words used to speak of praise and approbation. 

In the various phases of her life. Sister McKay has endeavored 
to look upward and outward. She has sought the cultural influences 
which Relief Society women everywhere are seeking — the finest and 
highest elements of art and music and literature. Wherever possible, 
during her travels, she has visited the world-famous art galleries and 
has sought to evaluate for herself the significance and the symbolism 
of those masterpieces which have received the approbation of the 
ages. She loves great and good music. Her favorite of the master- 
works is "The Messiah" — that magnificent telhng in music the life 
of the Savior, the prophecies of his coming, and the eternal message 
of the gospel. Literature has been Sister McKay's dear companion 
for many years, and scriptures have given her and the family con- 
tinuing comfort and enlightenment. 

It is a far-reaching and exalted thought for a woman to realize 
that the haven of her home is the center of an ever-widening circle 
of influence. The sweet spirit of love and kindness and culture has 
been extended to the many guests in the McKay home, and to the 
thousands of Church members who have been privileged to meet 
Sister McKay personally. She has graciously responded to all those 
whom she has met in her journey ings with President McKay, for 
she has made communication of attitudes and ideals a unifying as- 
pect of her life, carrying into all her associations the love and the 
refinement which have always been an adornment in her home, 
taking abroad and sharing her gifts and her accomplishments. 






Emma Rae (Mrs. Conway Ashton); Edward R. McKay (now Dr. Edward R. 
Robert R. McKay (the baby on Sister McKay's lap). 


In April, Sister McKay was given a special award ''Woman of the 
Year" — presented by the Associated Women Students of Brigham 
Young University, to "motivate and inspire women on the campus." 
A beautiful quilt made by the Relief Society of Honeyville Ward 
(Utah) was given to Sister McKay on this occasion. 

As Relief Society women, we express our love and deep appreciation 
for Sister McKay and extend to her congratulations for her birthday. 







Elder Marion G. Romney 
of the Council of the Twelve 

■ In 1842, when the Relief 
Society was organized by the 
Prophet Joseph Smith, its ob- 
jective was to "relieve the poor 
and to save souls." In other 
words, the women of the Church 
were to assume their share of the 
responsibility of carrying forward 
the work of the Lord. This, of 
course, was to be done under the 
direction of the Priesthood. 

With faith, courage, vision, and 
industry, the women of the 
Church have carried forward the 
objectives of the Rehef Society 
to the present time. 

In the beginning, the messages 
of guidance given to the Relief 
Society by the Prophet Joseph 
Smith, were carried by word of 
mouth to the sisters of the or- 
ganization. Then, as the work 
spread to outlying areas, espe- 
cially after the move to Utah 
and the western regions, the in- 
structions and suggestions were 
made known by use of letters and 

The Relief Society was served 
through the pages of the Wom- 
an's Exponent from 1872, when it 
began publication under the di- 
rection of President Brigham 
Young, until it was discontinued 
in February 1914. 

Eventually, in 1915, the Relief 
Society, with the approval of the 
First Presidency, began publish- 
ing its own Relief Society Mag- 
azine, "A monthly periodical — 
edited, managed, and published 
by the General Board of The 
Relief Society." 

You will note that it was from 
1842 to 1915 — a period of seven- 
ty-three years — before a Relief 
Society Magazine was made 
available to the sisters through- 



out the English-speaking coun- 

Today, the Spanish-speaking 
Rehef Society members consti- 
tute the greatest number next to 
the Enghsh-speaking members. 

As you know, the leaders of 
the missions have had access to 
the Magazine for many years, 
and have sent to Relief Society 
members, in bulletin form, many 
of the articles and suggestions, 
as well as the lessons. Now, at 
length, the Spanish-speaking sis- 
ters have the privilege of having 
the Magazine printed in the 
Spanish language, especially that 
they may use it in doing their 
part in "caring for the poor and 
in saving souls." 

In addition to the lessons and 
the helps found in the Magazine, 
there are "many literary, artistic, 
and practical articles, designed 
to improve our minds and beau- 
tify our homes," as stated in a 
letter announcing the first publi- 
cation of the Magazine. 

Personally, I am very grateful 
that, after these many years, the 
Spanish-speaking sisters may now 

have access to the same material 
and inspiration as do the sisters 
near the headquarters of the 
Church. They need it. Their 
families need it. 

Much emphasis is presently be- 
ing placed, on the home, home 
teaching of the gospel and the 
responsibilities of the parents in 
bringing up their children in 

In the Relief Society Magazine 
will be found many articles, 
stories, and suggestions that will 
have enrichment value, not only 
for Relief Society members and 
the Relief Society program, but 
that will interest and inspire 
their families. 

We hope that the Spanish sis- 
ters will make every possible 
effort to get this Magazine into 
every home in their branches, 
and that each will read and use 
it. We think that enlightenment 
and increased faith will result, 
and that ways and means will 
be made clear to the sisters of 
the Relief Society whereby they 
can participate in "caring for the 
poor and saving souls." 

Kind words are like the flowers 
That brighten the shadowed day 
And lift the heart to gladness 
Above the troubled way. 


Catherine B. Bowles 

When unkind words are spoken 
That wound the tender heart, 
God in his infinite mercy 
Will love and strength impart. 

The fragrance of life^ is measured 
By deeds of lasting worth — 
Each act a flower of goodness 
To brighten the path of earth. 


lames A. Cullimore 

Appointed Assistant 

to the Council of 

the Tuielue 

■ At the opening session of the 
136th Annual General Confer- 
ence of the Church, April 6, 1966, 
James Alfred Cullimore, a de- 
voted and experienced Church 
leader, was appointed as an As- 
sistant to the Council of the 
Twelve, making a present total 
of twelve Assistants to the Coun- 

Elder Cullimore was bom in 
Pleasant Grove, Utah, January 
17, 1906, and was graduated from 
Pleasant Grove High School. At 
Brigham Young University, he 
was president of the senior class, 
and president of the student 
body. In these positions his out- 
standing qualities of leadership 
and his remarkable executive 
ability were evident. He received 
his Master's degree from the New 
York University School of Re- 

He was married in the Salt 
Lake Temple, June 3, 1931, to 
Grace Gardner of Spanish Fork. 
They have two daughters, Luella 
and Nancy, and a son Kelvyn. 

Church service began at an 
early age for Elder Cullimore and 
has continued throughout his 
life. During his mission in Calif- 
ornia (1925-27), he was made 
a district president. He was 
Timpanogos Stake Sunday School 
superintendent, branch president 

Elder James Alfred Cullimore 

in Sioux City, Iowa, and in the 
Oklahoma City Branch. Later, he 
became district president in the 
West Oklahoma District, Central 
States Mission, a position he held 
for nine years. In 1960 he was 
sustained as the first president 
of Oklahoma Stake. Shortly after 
this appointment, he was called 
to be president of the Central 
British Mission, where he served 
for two and a half years. During 
his presidency, many outstanding 
accomplishments were made, in- 
cluding the completion of the 
building of the Merthyr-Tydfil 
meetinghouse in time for its dedi- 
cation by President David 0. 
McKay, whose mother and her 
ancestors had lived in that area 
of Wales. Also, during his pres- 
idency, the distribution of The 
Book of Mormon increased from 
fifty to 300 a week, converts in- 
creased, and the gospel was made 
known to thousands by a vigor- 
ous and well-directed program 
which was carried to many new 


Elder Cullimore 
and His Family 

Standing at the back: 
Elder Cullimore; seated 
at the left: Grace 
Gardner Cullimore; at the 
right: Nancy Marie 
Cullimore; inset at left: 
Kelvin Henry Cullimore; 
at right: Grace Luella 
Cullimore Payne (Mrs. 
Dale Payne). 

cities and villages where Church 
organizations had not previously 

His great ability in leadership 
and management has served him 
well in business. He has been as- 
sociated with Gimble Brothers of 
New York City and also Mandel 
Brothers in Chicago. In Okla- 
homa, during the past twenty 
years, he has established one of 
the largest furniture firms in the 
state, and, in 1960, he was giv- 
en the Fourth Annual Alumni 
Achievement Award by the New 
York University School of Re- 
tailing Alumni Association. 

Elder Cullimore's outgoing and 
optimistic personality invites con- 

fidence and respect, and his in- 
fluence among his associates in 
Church and community activities 
is uplifting and inspirational. 

The General Board of Relief 
Society and the Relief Society 
members in the stakes and mis- 
sions of the Church are pleased 
and gratified that Elder Culli- 
more has been made a General 
Authority, and they welcome his 
gracious and accomplished wife. 

In his address as a new General 
Authority, Elder Cullimore ex- 
pressed humility in his calling 
and said ". . . only by virtue of 
the strength I receive from the 
Lord can I become a good ser- 



A Relief Society History IVIal<ing Even\ 

■ It must have been an innpressive occasion that Thursday afternoon 
124 years ago when eighteen sisters attentively listened to their be- 
loved leader, the Prophet Joseph Smith, say, "I now declare this 
Society organized with president and counselors, etc., according to 
parliamentary usages — and all who shall hereafter be admitted to this 
Society must be free from censure and be received by vote." These 
were women residing in what was then a western frontier town of 
the United States called Nauvoo. The sisters had accepted the restored 
gospel of Christ and had within them a burning desire to do their part 
in the work of the Church. They believed that if they could be formed 
into a Ladies Society whereby their means and efforts might be com- 
bined, they could more effectively serve, particularly with regard to 
the Nauvoo Temple. They had sought an organization at the hands of 
the Prophet, and under the inspiration of the Lord, he had organized 
them under the Priesthood and after a pattern of the Priesthood, a 
unique organization for women in all the world. 

Addressing the eighteen women assembled on that memorable oc- 
casion of the founding of Relief Society, Elder John Taylor, who had 
accompanied the Prophet to the meeting, said that he "rejoiced to see 
this institution organized according to the laws of Heaven . . . and 
to see all things moving forward in such a glorious manner." He prayed 
that "the blessings of Heaven might rest on this institution henceforth." 

As the years have moved along, hundreds of thousands of women 
residing in many parts of the world have rejoiced that this Society was 
organized. They h^ve seen it move forward, blessed of Heaven. 

Through the years the sisters of Relief Society have given loyal, 
devoted, and unselfish service to the Priesthood. They have ministered 
to the downtrodden; they have nursed the sick and fed the hungry; 
they have sustained those whose souls were weary. Through the Society 
the graces of lovely womanhood have been nurtured, and the arts and 
skills of glorious motherhood have been developed. Talents have been 
enlarged upon and put to worthy uses. 

Volume 53 JULY 1966 Number 6 

• Belle S. Spafford, President 

• Marianne C. Sharp, First Counselor 

• Louise W. Madsen, Second Counselor 

• Hulda P. Young, Secretary-Treasurer 

The sisters have been blessed individually and collectively, as they 
have labored in the fulfillment of the purposes set for the Society by 
God's chosen prophets. 

It was a blessed day, indeed, when, as an aid in furthering the work 
of this organization, the Society was given a Magazine of its own, "to 
be edited, managed, and published by the General Authorities of the 
Society." This publication has served as the voice of Relief Society. 
It has helped to unify and standardize the work. It has served as a 
lesson manual for the educational courses. It has been an outlet for 
the literary aspirations of Latter-day Saint women. Its contents have 
been animated by the spirit of the gospel and its gospel teaching 
articles by Priesthood and Relief Society leaders have strengthened 
faith and built testimonies. 

In the Centenary of Relief Society, issued on the hundredth anni- 
versary of Relief Society, we read, "This Magazine belongs by right 
to every woman of the Church." While language barriers stand in 
the way of full realization of this at the present time, a great step 
forward has been made as the Magazine becomes available in Spanish 
for the many Spanish-speaking sisters throughout the Church. The 
General Board rejoices that this instrument which has proven so 
valuable to the English-speaking sisters and such an important factor 
in the strength of their Relief Societies, may now intimately touch and 
influence the lives of the Spanish-speaking sisters and reach into 
their Relief Societies as a bulwark of strength. 

The advent of The Relief Society Magazine in the Spanish language 
is a history-making event. May it bless our beloved Spanish-speaking 
sisters. May it bless their homes. May it bless their families. May it 
be a truly effective instrument in helping the Spanish-speaking Relief 
Societies to move forward in an even more glorious manner, is our 
earnest prayer. 

— B. S. S 

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 
Edith P. Backman 
Winniefred S. Manwaring 

EIna P. Haymond 
Mary R. Young 
Mary V. Cameron 
Afton W. Hunt 
Wealtha S. Mendenhal 
Elsa T. Peterson 
Fanny S. Kiepitz 
Elizabeth B. Winters 
LaRue H. Resell 
Jennie R. Scott 
Alice L. Wilkinson 
Irene W. Buehner 

Irene C. Lloyd 
Hazel S. Love 
Fawn H. Sharp 
Celestia J. Taylor 
Anne R. Gledhill 
Belva B. Ashton 
Zola J. McGhie 
Oa J. Cannon 
Lila B. Walch 
Lenore C. Gundersen 
Marjorie C. Pingree 
Darlene C. Dedekind 

Cleone R. Eccles 
Edythe K. Watson 
Ellen N. Barnes 
Kathryn S. Gilbert 
Verda F. Burton 
Myrtle R. Olson 
Alice C. Smith 
Lucile P. Peterson 
Elaine B. Curtis 
Zelma R. West 

The 136 th Annuai 

■ The Annual General Conference of 
the Church was held in the Tabernacle, 
Salt Lake City, Utah, April 6, 9, and 10, 
1966, commemorating the 136th an- 
niversary of the organization of the 
Church. Once more carrying a message 
of faith, devotion, and inspiration, the 
proceedings were carried to far coun- 
tries and across the oceans by short 
wave radio. Many television and radio 
stations in Canada and the United 
States gave precedence to a broadcast 
of the meetings. 

The General Authorities, except Pres- 
ident Thorpe B. Isaacson, who was ill 
in the hospital, were present at the 
conference. President David 0. McKay, 
now in his ninety -third year, presided 
at all the sessions and addressed three 
of the meetings. A pervading theme was 
reflected throughout the conference — 
faith in God, the Eternal Father, and in 
his Son Jesus Christ, the reality of the 
resurrection, a profound belief in the 
second coming, and a forward progres- 
sion of all those worthy of exaltation 
in the eternities. 

At the opening session a new General 
Authority was sustained. James Alfred 
Cullimore of Oklahoma was appointed 
an Assistant to the Council of the 

In his address on Saturday, the day 
before Easter, President McKay called 
upon the world to recognize and wor- 
ship Jesus and acknowledge his literal 


General Church Conference 

When Christians throughout the world have this faith coursing in their veins, 
when they feel a loyalty in their hearts to the resurrected Christ, and to the 
principles connoted thereby, mankind will have taken the first great step toward 
the perpetual peace toward which we daily are praying. . . .The Church of Jesus 
Christ of Latter-day Saints declares to all the world that Christ is the Son of God, 
the Redeemer of the world. No true follower is satisfied to accept him merely 
as a great reformer, the ideal teacher, or even as the one perfect man. The 
Man of Galilee is . . . literally the Son of the Living God. 

President Hugh B. Brown declared a powerful testimony of the truth 
and reality of the resurrection of Jesus. 

We reaffirm our faith in the Bible as the word of God. We believe its teachings, 
its doctrines, its definitions and revelations of an omnipotent and omniscient 
God. The fact that man was created in his image confirms our faith that he is 
living and personal. He is our Eternal Father, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and 
Jacob, the Jehovah of the Old Testament, and the promised Messiah. We proclaim 
the preexistence and divine nature of Jesus the Christ, the purpose of his earth 
life, the reality of his resurrection. . . . 

President N. Eldon Tanner spoke with great concern about the grow- 
ing tendency throughout the world to deny the existence of the living 

The issue, then, becomes quite clear, that it is not what kind of God man 
can believe in, but what kind of man does the Living God reach. ... In order 
for life to have a purpose ... it Is necessary that we be willing to admit the 
possibility that God does exist. ... All down through the ages prophets have 
borne testimony that they have talked with God. . . . Hundreds of thousands of 
individuals scattered throughout the world today can bear testimony that their 
prayers have been answered in many ways. 

President Joseph Fielding Smith devoted his remarks to calling at- 
tention to the "signs of the times." He said: 

Shall we slumber on in utter oblivion or indifference to all that the Lord has 
given us as warning. . . . Many things have happened during the past one hundred 
and thirty-six years to impress faithful members of the Church with the fact 
that the coming of the Lord is near. The gospel has been restored. The Church 
has been fully organized. The Priesthood has been conferred upon man. The 
various dispensations from the beginning have been revealed and their keys and 
authorities given to the Church. 

In a heartfelt blessing to all the saints, at the close of conference, 
President McKay in speaking his appreciation to the saints for their 
loyal and willing response to calls for service in extending the work of 
the Lord at home and abroad, gave a scriptural admonition: "... seek 
ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness. ..." 



Ramona W. Cannon 

Prime Minister Indira Ghandi of India 
in March became the first woman head 
of a country to visit the President of the 
United States. The Ambassador to 
India, Chester Bowles, was the first 
representative of a foreign power to 
call on the new Prime Minister, and on 
that occasion extended to Mrs. Ghandi 
an invitation from President Johnson 
to visit him in Washington. The Presi- 
dent is arranging for the United States, 
in cooperation with other nations, to 
send about twelve million tons of food 
to India to help feed her starving 
millions. The payment will be in Indian 
money (rupees), which will purchase 
products from India. 

Crown Princess Beatrix of Holland, 
twenty-eight years old, on March 10th 
married Claus von Amsberg, thirty-nine 
years old, a former German diplomat. 
They hope to stem the tide of dis- 
approval among some Dutch people, 
because of his nationality, by serving 
Holland loyally and wisely. 

Peggy Fleming, a seventeen-year-old 
high school sttident from Colorado 
Springs, U.S.A., with her "flawless" 
skating won the woman's world ice- 
skating championship in Davos, Swit- 
zerland, on February 27. 

Frances Carter Yost, prolific writer for 
The Relief Society Magazine and other 
Church and non-Church publications, 
has just published a new book "That 
They Might Know Thee" (Deseret Book 

Hisako Nakahara was crowned Japan's 
Cherry Blossom Queen in Tokyo in late 
March. Her crown contains 976 pearls 
set in 800 grams of gold. She went to 
Washington, D.C., U.S.A., to attend the 
Cherry Blossom Festival, beginning on 
April 12. The Japanese presented the 
cherry trees to the United States 
Government in 1912. At the height of 
their spring blossoming, they present 
a sight never to be forgotten. 

Dianna Lynn Batts, a recent convert to 
the Church, from Falls Church, 
Virginia, is the present Miss USA and 
placed second in the Miss World con- 
test in London last fall. In an address 
to 4,000 seminary students in the Salt 
Lake Tabernacle, Miss Batts urged the 
students to remain loyal to Church 
standards at all times. She was a 
member of Bob Hope's troupe in its 
three grueling weeks in Viet Nam to 
entertain service men at Christmas 

Frances G. Knight is the United States 
Passport office director, and in that 
position must be informed on the 
loyalty of Americans traveling abroad. 

Madeleine Helfrey, director of research 
and programming at the Utah State 
Training School for the mentally re- 
tarded, was appointed in March to 
President Johnson's Advisory Board on 
Mental Retardation, one of eighteen 
persons throughout the United States 
to serve on this board. 


for the 

Margery S. Stewart 
Chapter 6 

Synopsis: Jennie Starr, whose husband Rex is not a member of the Church, 
realizes after some years that her family needs the blessings of spirituality 
and religious training. Somewhat reluctantly. Rex agrees to a trial period of 
one year in which Jennie and the children have his permission to participate 
in Church activities. Jennie feels that they are making definite progress and 
that family unity and cooperation are helping them to achieve rich spiritual 

■ Even before Jennie put down 
her groceries, she could tell some- 
thing drastic had happened to 
her family. She could tell by the 
way Rex went out without speak- 
ing and drove off with a furious 
spinning of tires; by the way the 
white cat Billy had given her 
crouched under the kitchen table. 
By Lora's quietness when she 
went upstairs to investigate. 

'They had a big fight," Lora 
said, "and would you like some 
hot cocoa? I just made some." 

Jennie drank the pretended 
cocoa at a gulp. "Who had a 

"Daddy and Lance. Lance is 
going to run away." 

Jennie hastily surrendered theL 
doll cup and went in search of 
her son. She found him in the 

garage, examining his sleeping 

"Isn't January a bit cold for 
that sort of thing?" 

He did not answer. His face 
was turned away from her. His 
fingers worried the clasps of the 

"What happened between you 
and your father?" Jennie sat on 
her heels beside him. She ran 
her hand through his stiff brown- 
ing hair. Once his hair had been 
as golden as Lora's; once it had 
been as soft as Johnnie's, But 
now it was as unyielding as his 

"That's between Dad and me." 

Lance was growing up. Jennie 
stood up uncertainly. No prob- 
ing, she decided. She turned to 


JUNE 1966 

**But he can't keep me from 
going to Mutual and being a 
Scout . . . and going on a mis- 

Jennie shivered. The father 
and son relationship, one of the 
pleasantest in the family, was 
seemingly in a state of chaos. 

"I'll ask him," Jennie said 

She made dinner, served it to 
a silent and heavy-eyed family. 
No one seemed to want to look 
at anyone else. Rex did not meet 
her eyes. He was remote, crisp, 
and plainly girded for battle. 

Then Jennie cleared the table, 
washed the dishes with Sabra's 
help, bathed Johnny and Lora, 
and sent the older ones to their 
rooms to study. 

The house was quiet. She went 
into the family room and set up 
the ironing board before the 
television. But Rex did not come 
in to keep her company and she 
did not turn on the screen. 

She heard Rex go out again. 
She ironed shirts and hung them 
on hangers, fourteen shirts a 
week . . . twenty-one it would be 
when Johnny was out of the knit 

"Billy's cat," which had been 
officially named "Samantha," and 
was still called "Billy's Cat," 
came and rubbed against her 
ankles. Jennie took a moment 
to worry about Billy. He had 
skipped his last lesson. Why? He 
was doing very well, really read- 
ing. He was not fast, he was not 
always accurate, and his spelling 
was atrocious. But he could read 
better and better all the time. 
His teacher had taken heart and 
was helping him after school, too. 
Jennie called Mrs. Wentworth 
and was rewarded by learning 
that Billy had been ill, and she. 

Mrs. Wentworth, had been too 
busy to call. Billy would be back 
on Monday. 

Jennie put down the phone 
and lit the gas logs in the fire- 
place. Without Rex, the house 
seemed cold and friendless. She 
gnawed on the worrisome bone 
of Rex and Lance's behavior at 
dinner, cold enmity on Lance's 
part, an equally cold determina- 
tion on Rex's. 

The doorbell rang and Jennie 
went to answer it. Two men stood 
under the porch light, the bishop 
and the Mutual superintendent, 
Jimmy Owens. Jennie smiled and 
asked them in. 

"The fact of the matter is," 
the bishop boomed, "you've done 
such a good job with your Trek- 
kers that we've come to ask you 
to help us on another little chore." 

"Little?" asked Jennie hope- 

"It's the road show," said the 
superintendent. "We've been a 
ward for ten years and we've 
never won a road show yet . . . 
•to make it even harder, our 
drama director is having a baby 
about then." 

The bishop smiled. "With your 
talent with the Trekkers, we 
thought you would be a natural 
for this." 

Jennie sat back aghast. "But 
I've never even seen a road show." 

"I'll help," said Jim Owens. 
"We just want you to write a 
ten-minute skit that will win the 
first prize, that's all." 

"But if it doesn't win?" Jennie 
asked, a sudden picture of a ward 
full of disappointed faces float- 
ing before her. 

"Everyone will understand," 
said the bishop, laughter crin- 
kling his eyes. 

Jennie laughed with him. Un- 



derstanding was sometimes as 
painful as uttered fury. 

''I'll ask my husband," she 
said. "If he says I may ... I 
would like to try it." 

When they had gone she went 
back and finished the ironing. 
She looked at the kitchen clock 
as she put the board away, twelve- 
thirty. Where could Rex be? 

He came after another stretch 
of waiting. She heard his car in 
the driveway and the sound of 
the garage door slamming open 
and, after a moment, slamming 
vigorously shut. He was still in 
a bad mood. She braced herself 
for whatever might be the reason. 

Rex came in through the kitch- 
en door. "Can't those kids re- 
member to put anything away!" 

"What was it?" 

"Lora's sled!" He rubbed his 
ankle bone. 

Jennnie put the iron away in 
silence. Rex slammed the refrig- 
erator door. "Someone ate the 
last one to Billy's cat." 

"Oh, Rex ... I didn't know 
you wanted one. ... I gave the 
last one to Billy's Cat." 

Silence. Jennie stacked sheets. 

"I suppose Lance told you," 
he said at last. 

"He didn't tell me anything." 

"Oh." All the wind was taken 
out of his sails. 

"Do you want to tell me?" she 

*'I wouldn't give my permission 
for his baptism, nor Sabra's." 

She slid into a chair. "Ah. . . ." 
Pain found the hollow under her 
ribs and filled it with ice. She 
could not speak because of the 
pain. Yet it was not physical 
pain. ... It was a new kind, like 
a dark knife probing. 

She thought of Lance's stub- 
born efforts to learn all the Arti- 

cles of Faith. "Then he can't be 
a deacon," she said. 

"That's right." 

"He'll be twelve next week, you 
know. He wanted to be a deacon 
so very much." 

Rex came over to the table and 
leaned on his knuckles. "I am 
not convinced." 

"I am. Lance is, so is Sabra." 

"They don't know what truth 

She looked at him curiously. 
"Do you?" 

He turned away and paced the 
floor. "They are growing away 
from us."