Reaching Out - Derin Head Rodriguez

Reaching Out - Derin Head Rodriguez

The people, circumstances, and situations vary, but one result is assured, as President Spencer W. Kimball said: “The more we serve our fellowmen in appropriate ways, the more substance there is to our souls. We become more significant individuals as we serve others. …

“Wherever our Father’s children magnify their opportunities for loving service, they are learning to become more like Him.” (New Era, Mar. 1981, p. 49.)

President Ezra Taft Benson has counseled: “Forget yourself and find someone who needs your service, and you will discover the secret to the happy, fulfilled life.” (Ensign, May 1979, p. 34.)

Where Shall I Begin? 

If you’re thinking about how you might help as a volunteer in your community, you may want to consider the following suggestions.

1. Prayerfully and realistically review your circumstances. The time you give to volunteer work may be limited by other demands on your time and energy. If you conclude that you have some time to serve the community, even small amounts, if used efficiently, can bring rewarding results.
2. Choose worthy causes. There are many that can bring joy and happiness to you and others as you serve. But some causes, which may seem to be fashionable and to offer praise from the world, may be selfish in nature.
3. Realize that your efforts can often be more effective when you work through established programs. While these programs may be organized by other religions or civic groups, their goals are often compatible with the standards of the Church.
4. Review your job skills, education, hobbies, experience, and interests. Your areas of expertise may fill the needs of another individual or organization.
5. Volunteer work can help overcome loneliness and depression. It can sweep away selfishness, sin, and greed. Concentrating on helping others can help you readjust your own priorities and perspectives and can bring healthy feelings of self-worth and the satisfaction of meaningful labor.

All Things in Wisdom and Order - John C. Taggart

All Things in Wisdom and Order - John C. Taggart

As a young man growing up in Idaho trying to find my place in the world, I arrived at the following temporary conclusion: I was a better French horn player than Wilt Chamberlain, the best player in the National Basketball Association, and I played basketball better than Dennis Brain, then the world’s premier French horn player. I felt I was unique and, by implication, uniquely good.

This bit of vanity seems harmless, but it hints at a trap into which many of us fall—judging our individual worth by comparing ourselves to others. This view of self-worth results in one of two serious mistakes: either we imagine ourselves better than we are because we think we excel where others fail; or we are too hard on ourselves, thinking we do not measure up to others. Faced with these misperceptions, we may settle into a false sense of self-satisfaction, strain to match the accomplishments of those we believe are ahead of us, or give up altogether. Our vision is clouded when we forget we are not in competition. As children of our Father in Heaven, we are already unique and valuable, beyond anything we can achieve in this world.

Wise Counsel from a King

How can we avoid this trap? King Benjamin offered wise counsel. In his final discourse, this Nephite king told his people what his years as head of state and as a prophet had taught him. First, he accounted for his ministry and admonished his people to do their duty toward their Heavenly Father and others (see Mosiah 2). Then he prophesied of the mortal ministry of the Savior (see Mosiah 3), spoke of Christ’s Atonement as “the means whereby salvation cometh” (Mosiah 4:8), and explained how to obtain this gift from God. He also spoke at length of the people’s duty to the poor (see Mosiah 4).

Then the aged king offered this counsel: “And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order” (Mosiah 4:27).

With these simple words King Benjamin explained how to be faithful and act correctly in the face of competing demands. To “win the prize” we must be diligent, while acting within the limits of our capacity and circumstances. There are at least five guiding principles contained in this counsel from King Benjamin: duty, persistence, capacity, balance, and priority and seasonality.

Duty

“All things must be done”: Those who accept the blessings of the gospel are bound by covenants to act in certain ways. We have general duties—nurturing our children, serving others, keeping the commandments—and we have specific duties that arise out of our own choices, the Church callings we receive, the promises we make, and the obligations we freely accept. The counsel to not “run faster than [we have] strength” does not excuse us from these things.

Persistence

“Be diligent”: The Lord said, “He that endureth to the end shall be saved” (Matthew 10:22). We sometimes mistakenly think the word endure means grim plodding in the face of adversity. Not so. While mortality was not meant to be free of challenges, the Lord has promised both peace and happiness in this life and unimaginable blessings in the life to come for “them that love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9). But these blessings come to those who truly take upon themselves the name of Christ, remaining true to Him and following after Him. To persist or persevere means to remain on the path. Those who do so find, to their delight, that the journey brings moments of surprising joy and great blessings, even as the way grows rocky or steep.

Capacity

“A man should [not] run faster than he has strength”: We are all bound to honor our covenants, but all are not asked to carry the same load. The parable of the talents and the story of the widow’s mite teach that we will not be judged by our output (see Mark 12:41–44; see also Matthew 25:14–30). Our charge is to magnify what we are given by the Lord, however large or small it may be. We each possess different gifts, abilities, and capacities. That we are to use them in the service of others is King Benjamin’s main message, and it is a persistent theme throughout the scriptures. There is nothing, however, in the revelations to suggest that modest results from heartfelt effort are less valued in the economy of heaven than greater or more impressive results. We are to thrust in our sickle with our might, thereby bringing salvation to our souls (see D&C 4:4; 6:3; 11:3; 12:3; 14:3).

Balance

“Done in wisdom”: Hardest of all is achieving the right mix or balance between competing good things. No secret formula will achieve this for us. We must avoid the “false balance” (Proverbs 20:23) that becomes a mere excuse for avoiding difficult choices. Self-awareness—an honest assessment of our strengths and weaknesses—is critical. Then righteous living, thoughtful meditation, and heartfelt prayer place us in the path of heavenly inspiration as we make daily decisions. The counsel of those who love us helps us find our way in a world increasingly filled with enticements, distractions, false promises of pleasure, and empty rewards of worldly achievement at the expense of heavenly blessings. The right balance is probably different for each person and also changes for each person over time. Above all, a person grounded in the gospel of Jesus Christ and enjoying the sweet companionship of the Holy Ghost will find balance, even—or especially—in the face of overwhelming, unavoidable burdens.

Priority or Seasonality

“All things … in order”: The writer of Ecclesiastes taught, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). While we should not “procrastinate the day of [our] repentance” (Alma 13:27), we can safely organize our lives so that, instead of trying to do everything at once, we do many things over time. An extraordinary mother of 12 children wrote: “We cannot do everything, all the time, all at once. We can, through the years, do many things, at different times, one at a time. It is important to see choices as opportunities, not as frustrations.” ¹

How can Church members help one another in this effort? A wise bishop will take into account a family’s circumstances before calling the able sister to serve as Relief Society president at a time of great, if temporary, stress. And the wise young mother or her husband will not withhold from the priesthood leader circumstances that might diminish her ability to serve or that would interfere with other, more important obligations. To ask the leader to take such things into account is not the same as declining to serve. Even those who earnestly seek the inspiration of heaven in extending callings need to know what is happening in your life to “study it out in [their] mind[s]” (D&C 9:8). The calling to preside, whether in a Church calling or in the home, carries with it the responsibility to preside in wisdom.

Our “seasons” may include discovery, training, starting and raising a family, caring for parents, and helping with grandchildren. Each has its own demands. We may at various times be called upon to lead and to follow, to bear great burdens and to sustain others who carry burdens. Inappropriate or irrational concern for how our efforts compare to the accomplishments of others will result in unnecessary frustration and spiritual decline. Diligent attention to our duties, our inspired choices, and recognition of our limits will enable us to “win the prize.”

The Teachers Divine Comission - Bruce R. McConkie

The Teachers Divine Commission - Bruce R. McConkie




Every teacher should read and understand this commission - what a glorious summary of the duties and responsibilities of teachers.

“The teacher’s divine commission” is summarized under five headings:

1. We are commanded—it is something on which we have no choice; there are no alternative courses open to us—we are commanded to teach the principles of the gospel.

In the revelation known as “the law of the Church,” the Lord says: “The elders, priests and teachers of this church shall teach the principles of my gospel” (D&C 42:12). Numerous revelations say: Preach my gospel and teach my word, “saying none other things than that which the prophets and apostles have written, and that which is taught them by the Comforter through the prayer of faith” (D&C 52:9).

Manifestly we cannot teach that which is unknown to us. A prerequisite to teaching the gospel is studying the gospel. Hence such divine decrees as:

“Search the scriptures” (John 5:39).

“Search these commandments” (D&C 1:37).

“Treasure up my word” JS—H 1:37.

“Study my word” (D&C 11:22).

“Search the prophets” (3 Ne. 23:5).

“Ye ought to search these things. Yea, a commandment I give unto you that ye search these things diligently; for great are the words of Isaiah.” (3 Ne. 23:1.)

“Seek not to declare my word, but seek first to obtain my word, and then shall your tongue be loosed; then, if you desire, you shall have my Spirit and my word, yea, the power of God unto the convincing of men” (D&C 11:21).

We can read all of the standard works of the Church in one year if we proceed at the rate of about six pages a day. To do the sincere searching and the solemn pondering required will take more time.

There is knowledge and there are spiritual experiences to be gained from reading, pondering, and praying about the scriptures which can be gained in no other way. No matter how devoted and active members of the Church are in administrative matters, they will never gain the great blessings which come from scriptural study unless they pay the price of that study and thus make the written word a part of their lives.

2. We are to teach the principles of the gospel as they are found in the standard works of the Church.

In the law of the Church the Lord says: “The elders, priests and teachers of this church shall teach the principles of my gospel”—and now note this restriction—“which are in the Bible and the Book of Mormon, in the which is the fulness of the gospel” (D&C 42:12).

Then the Lord speaks of the need to be guided by the Spirit, but comes back to the scriptural source of gospel truth in these words: “And all this ye shall observe to do as I have commanded concerning your teaching, until the fulness of my scriptures is given” (D&C 42:15).

When this revelation was given, the Bible and the Book of Mormon were the only scriptures available to the Latter-day Saints. Now we also have the Doctrine and Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price, and there are, of course, other revelations which shall be given in due course.

3. We are to teach by the power of the Holy Ghost.

Having commanded all teachers to teach the principles of the gospel as found in the standard works, the Lord says: “These shall be their teachings, as they shall be directed by the Spirit.”

Then he gives the great directive: “And the Spirit shall be given unto you by the prayer of faith; and if ye receive not the Spirit ye shall not teach.”

Along with this instruction, he gives this promise:

“As ye shall lift up your voices by the Comforter, ye shall speak and prophesy as seemeth me good;

“For, behold, the Comforter knoweth all things, and beareth record of the Father and of the Son.” (D&C 42:13–14, 16–17.)

Every teacher in every teaching situation might well reason along this line:

If the Lord Jesus were here, what he would say in this situation would be perfect.

But he is not here. Instead he has sent me to represent him.

I should say what he would say if he were here; I should say what he wants said.

The only way I can do this is to have him tell me what to say.

This revealed direction can come to me only by the power of his Spirit.

Therefore I must be guided by the Spirit if I am to teach in my capacity as an agent of the Lord.

These principles of teaching gospel truths by the power of the Spirit are further expounded in another revelation by means of revealed questions and answers in this way:

Question: “I the Lord ask you this question—unto what were ye ordained?”

That is, what is your commission? What have I empowered you to do? What authorization have you received from me?

Answer: “To preach my gospel by the Spirit, even the Comforter which was sent forth to teach the truth.” (D&C 50:13–14.)

That is, your commission, your authorization, the thing you have been ordained to do is to teach my gospel, not any private views, not the philosophies of the world, but my everlasting gospel, and to do it by the power of my Spirit, all in harmony with the commandment I have heretofore given: “If ye receive not the Spirit ye shall not teach” (D&C 42:14).

Question: “He that is ordained of me and sent forth to preach the word of truth by the Comforter, in the Spirit of truth, doth he preach it by the Spirit of truth or some other way?” (D&C 50:17.)

Before hearing the revealed answer, let us note that the Lord is here talking about teaching the gospel, the word of truth, the principles of salvation. He is not talking about the doctrines of the world and the commandments of men, the adherence to which is vain and does not lead to salvation.

The question is, when we preach the gospel, when we teach the word of truth, when we set forth the true doctrines of salvation, do we do so by the power of the Holy Ghost or in some other way? Obviously, the “other way” to teach the truth is by the power of the intellect.

Now the revealed answer: “If it be by some other way it is not of God” (D&C 50:18).

Let us make this clear. Even though what we teach is true, it is not of God unless it is taught by the power of the Spirit. There is no conversion, no spiritual experience, unless the Spirit of the Lord is involved.

Question: “And again, he that receiveth the word of truth, doth he receive it by the Spirit of truth or some other way?”

Answer: “If it be some other way it is not of God.” (D&C 50:19–20)

This is why I said at the beginning that if this presentation was to have converting power, I must present it by the power of the Spirit and you must hear and receive by that same power. Only then can “he that preacheth and he that receiveth, understand one another,” so that “both are edified and rejoice together” (D&C 50:22).

4. We are to apply the gospel principles taught to the needs and circumstances of our hearers.

The gospel principles never change. They are the same in all ages. And in general the needs of people are the same in all ages. There are no problems which have befallen us except those which have been the common lot of men from the beginning. And so it is not difficult to take the principles of the everlasting word and apply them to our specific needs. The abstract truth must live in the lives of men if they are to bear fruit.

Nephi quoted from the Book of Moses and the writings of Isaiah and then said: “I did liken all scriptures unto us, that it might be for our profit and learning” (1 Ne. 19:23)—meaning he applied the teachings of Moses and Isaiah to the needs of the Nephites.

5. We must testify that what we teach is true.

We are a testimony bearing people, as we should be. Our meetings abound in the solemn assurances that the work in which we are engaged is true. We certify with fervor and conviction that Jesus is the Lord, that Joseph Smith is his prophet, and that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is “the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth” (D&C 1:30).

In all of this we do well. But we ought to do more. The inspired teacher, the one who teaches by the power of the Spirit, is expected to bear testimony that the doctrine he teaches is true.

Alma set us an example in this respect. He preached a mighty sermon on being born again. Then he said he had spoken plainly, had been commissioned so to do, had quoted the scriptures, and had taught the truth.

“And this is not all,” he added. “Do ye not suppose that I know of these things myself? Behold, I testify unto you that I do know that these things whereof I have spoken are true.” (Alma 5:45.)

This is the crowning seal placed on gospel—teaching the personal witness of the teacher that the doctrine he has taught is true!

Who can argue with a testimony? Unbelievers may contend about our doctrine. They may wrest the scriptures to their destruction. They may explain away this or that from a purely intellectual standpoint, but they cannot overpower a testimony.

If I say, this or that messianic prophecy of Isaiah was fulfilled in this or that event in the life of our Lord, many voices are waiting to debate the issue and show that the wise men of the world think otherwise.

But if I say I know by the revelations of the Holy Spirit to my soul that the messianic utterances refer to Jesus of Nazareth who was God’s Son, what is there to debate?

I have then borne personal testimony on the doctrinal point being taught, and every hearer who is in tune with the same Spirit knows in his heart that what I have said is true.

Alma, having borne testimony that the things he had taught are true, then asked: “And how do ye suppose that I know of their surety?”

His answer, which sets a pattern for all teachers, is: “Behold, I say unto you they are made known unto me by the Holy Spirit of God. Behold, I have fasted and prayed many days that I might know these things of myself. And now I do know of myself that they are true; for the Lord God hath made them manifest unto me by his Holy Spirit; and this is the spirit of revelation which is in me.” (Alma 5:45–46.)

And so we have now before us an exposition of our status

as the Lord’s agents and of the teacher’s divine commission.

We are appointed—

1. To teach the principles of the gospel,

2. Out of the standard works,

3. By the power of the Holy Ghost,

4. Always applying the teachings to our needs, and

5. To testify that what we have taught is true.

When Shall I Begin? - Helen Spencer Schlie

When Shall I Begin?   Helen Spencer Schlie

My Mother-in-Law gave this poem to me many years ago, it is a favorite and something to think about especially at the New Year.

When shall I begin
to live this gospel in the fullest way -
to give more joyfully as I live each day.
When shall I begin?

If I am to live more wisely,
if I am to give more love
and learn to receive more love,
When shall I begin?

Shall it be in some dim an distant day
when life has smoothed from out my way
all that would dissuade my mind from Thee?

Shall it be when all my fellow man
have become as perfect as they can,
so no one shall ever say
a disturbing word to bar my way?

Shall it be when all my children - grown -
have established houses of their own,
when all my search for gold is done,
and all my treasures surely won?

Shall it be when all the teachings here
have fallen ripe on every other ear?

Shall it be then that I begin?

Or - shall it be when at last
as on my fading sight is cast
the end of life's sweet shining rays,
shall it be then that I begin?

Oh, let it not be so I pray
Let me begin - again - this very day
At this, the present time!
With all of life's bright day
Still unfolding on my way.

A Small, Snow-Covered Tree - Darrell Smart

A Small Snow-Covered Tree - Darrell Smart 

One day, shortly before Christmas, our third child and first son, Bay, was born. As I said good-bye that evening to my exhausted but joyful wife and left the hospital, the warmth and joy that accompanied the birth of my son overwhelmed the cold chill of that clear December night.

The following December we celebrated the first birthday of our dark-eyed, dark-haired son. The day after Christmas, during an evening of games at the home of my in-laws, our revelry was interrupted by an awful shriek from my mother-in-law: “He’s not breathing!” She had gone to check on Bay, who had been sleeping on her bed, and discovered his cold, lifeless body. We immediately rushed our son to the hospital, attempting CPR on the way. We were grief-stricken to learn that nothing could be done to save his life. He had died from sudden infant death syndrome.

Since then, Christmas has been filled with a much deeper meaning for our family. Each year on Christmas Eve when we take down our other children’s stockings to fill them, one solitary stocking is left on the fireplace mantle. Throughout the remainder of the holiday the stocking serves as a reminder of Bay.

Each year, around the time of Bay’s birthday, my wife and I drive to the cemetery where he is buried. At each visit we find that someone else has arrived before us and placed something on our son’s grave: one year it was delicate, small flowers; the next year, a stuffed bear; the next, a little Christmas tree decorated with miniature ornaments. We have no idea who is responsible; the gifts, which touch us deeply, are never accompanied by a note or card.

When I hinted to my mother-in-law that I knew her secret, she denied responsibility. The following year while she and my father-in-law were serving a Church mission abroad, we again found that someone had placed a gift on our son’s grave. Even after inquiring with other family members and friends, we were unable to solve the mystery.

Ten years after our son’s death, a series of snowstorms prevented us from traveling short distances. As a result, our annual visit to our son’s grave site was delayed until several days after Christmas. When we finally made it, we saw a small, decorated Christmas tree, mostly buried in the snow, standing bravely at the head of Bay’s small grave. The effort it must have taken for someone to get to the cemetery through the heavy snowfall overwhelmed us. Tears streamed down our faces as we realized that someone still shared our grief and loss.

After that, we were more resolved than ever to discover the identity of our benefactor and thank him or her for showing us such compassion. But as we reflected more, we realized that whoever was doing these acts of kindness did not want to be identified. We decided to allow our friend to remain anonymous. We replaced our need to thank our friend with a desire to simply live better.

It is now harder for us to speak ill of or criticize any of our friends or family members, because any one of them may be our anonymous friend.

Often while doing service, my wife and I pause to examine our hearts: are we doing good things to be seen by others or for the pure love of Christ and of our fellowmen?

For us, charity—humble and never seeking its own—is symbolized by a beautifully decorated Christmas tree, half-buried in snow, resting in a quiet cemetery.

A Rifle for Christmas - Rian B. Anderson

A Rifle for Christmas by Rian B. Anderson

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities.  But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors.  It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.  It was Christmas Eve 1881.  I was 15 years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn’t been enough money to buy the rifle that I’d wanted so bad that year for Christmas.  We did the chores early that night for some reason.  I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read the Bible.  So after supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible.  Instead he bundled up and went outside.  I couldn’t figure it out because we had already done all the chores.  I didn’t worry about it long though; I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.  Soon Pa came back in.  It was a cold night out and there was ice in his beard.  “Come on, Matt,” he said.  “Bundle up good, it’s cold out tonight.”  I was really upset then.  Not only wasn’t I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see.  We’d already done all the chores, and I couldn’t think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this.  But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one’s feet when he’d told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens.  Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house.  Something was up, but I didn’t know what.  Outside I became even more dismayed.  There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled.  Whatever it was we were going to do wasn’t going to be a short, quick, little job, I could tell.  We never hitched up the big sled unless we were going to haul a big load.  Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand.  I reluctantly climbed up beside him.  The cold was already biting at me.  I wasn’t happy.  When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed.  He got off and I followed.  “I think we’ll put on the high sideboards,” he said.  “Here, Help me.”  The high sideboards!  It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on.  When we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went in to the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood, the wood I’d spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting.  What was he doing?  Finally I said something.  “Pa,“ I asked, “what are you doing?”   “You been by the Widow Jensen’s lately?” he asked.   The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road.  Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight.   Sure, I’d been by, but so what? “Yeah, “I said, “why?”  “I rode by just today,” Pa said.  “Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips.  They’re out of wood, Matt.”  That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood.  I followed him.  We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it.  Finally, Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon.  He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait.  When he returned, he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand.  “What’s in the little sack?”  I asked.  “Shoes.  They’re out of shoes.  Little Jakey just had gunny sacks tied around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning.  I got the children a little candy, too.  It just wouldn’t be Christmas without a little candy.”  We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen’s pretty much in silence.  I tried to think through what Pa was doing.  We didn’t have much by worldly standards.  Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it.  We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew that we didn’t have any money, so why was Pa buying shoes and candy for them?  Really, why was he doing any of this?  Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us.  It shouldn’t have been our concern.  We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then took the meat and flour and shoes to the door.  We knocked.  The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, “Who is it?”  “Lucas Miles, Ma’am, and my son, Matt.  Could we come in for a bit?”  Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in.  She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.  The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all.  Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp.  “We brought you a few things, Ma’am,” Pa said and set down the sack of flour.  I put the meat on the table.  Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it.  She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at t time.  There was a pair for her and one for each of the children; sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last.   I watched her carefully.  She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks.  She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn’t come out.  “We brought a load of wood too, Ma’am,” Pa said.  Then he turned to me and said, “Matt, go bring in enough in to last for awhile.  Let’s get that fire up to size and heat this place up.”  I wasn’t the same person when I went out to bring in the wood.  I had a big lump in my throat and, much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes, too.  In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks and so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn’t speak.  My heart swelled within me and a joy filled my soul that I’d never known before.  I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference.  I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.  I soon had the fire blazing and everyone’s spirits soared.  The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn’t crossed her face for a long time.  She finally turned to us.  “God bless you,” she said.  “I know the Lord himself has sent you.  The children and I have been praying that He would send one of his angels to spare us.”  In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again.  I’d never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true.  I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth.  I started remember all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others.  The list seemed endless as I thought on it.  Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left.  I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get.  Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.  Tears were running down the Widow Jensen’s face again when we stood up to leave.  Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug.  They clung to him and didn’t want us to go.  I could see that they missed their pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.  At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, “The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow.  The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals.  We’ll be by to get you about eleven.  It’ll be nice to have some little ones around again.  Matt, here hasn’t been little for quite a spell.”  I was the youngest.  My older two brothers and two older sisters were all married and had moved away.  Widow Jensen nodded and said.  “Thank you, Brother Miles.  I don’t have to say, May the Lord bless you, for I know that he will.”  Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn’t even notice the cold.  When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, “Matt, I want you know something.  Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn’t have quite enough.  Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square.  Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that.  But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do.  So, Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children.  I hope you understand.  I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again.  I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it.  Just then the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities.  Pa had given me a lot more.  He had given me the look on Widow Jensen’s face and the radiant smiles of her three children.  For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered -- and remembering me brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night.  Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night.  He had given me the best Christmas of my life.    

The Christmas Coat

The Christmas Coat 

During our first holidays together as a married couple in 1973, my husband received a forty-dollar Christmas bonus. Though we didn’t have much money for gifts, we decided to spend the bonus on a family who had recently lost their husband and father. We had so much fun shopping for presents, wrapping them, and then leaving them in the dark on the family’s front doorstep that we made the secret project a family tradition.

Over the years we were blessed with four children. As soon as each child became tall enough, he or she would take a turn at Christmastime wearing a special coat that we used only once a year. Adult-sized, dark in color, and hooded, the coat made a perfect disguise for sneaking up to someone’s doorstep to leave gifts.

Every autumn we would vote on who our secret family would be that Christmas and on what gifts we would make or purchase for them. After some negotiation, the children would agree on who would have the honor of wearing the Christmas coat and delivering the presents that year. On abundant years we would give homemade quilts or clothing along with toys, books, and goodies, and on leaner years we would give stockings filled with smaller items.

When Christmas Eve finally arrived, the lucky child would don that beloved coat, cinch the hood tight around his or her face, and put on gloves and large boots to complete the disguise. With everyone in the car, we’d park a short distance away from the chosen house, and our little elf would make his or her way to the front porch. The fear of being seen or suspected made it even more exciting!

Back in our cozy home we would sit together with hot cocoa and bread sticks and relive the evening’s adventure. With full tummies and warm hearts, we would read the Christmas story from the Bible and appreciate what the Savior’s life taught us about service. Christmases were always wonderful, and we never missed a year of our tradition. Whenever I saw the Christmas coat hanging in the closet during the year, I would think of what it represented to us: the fun of a well-kept family secret and the joy of loving and sharing.

During the spring of our twentieth year together, my husband lost his job and was out of work for five months. Even though he had a new job by Christmastime, our financial situation was grim. We didn’t expect to have much of a Christmas for our own family, so we wondered how we would carry out our secret tradition.

We talked during family home evening about what our Christmas would be like that year. We recognized with gratitude that even if gifts would be scarce, at least we still had warmth, food, and each other. We thought of all the people who had essentially nothing: no home, no family, no warmth. Then we thought about how for years short little legs had run inside our Christmas coat and bright eyes had peered out from its furry hood. How would we put the coat to use this year?

One Sunday morning we loaded everyone into the car and drove downtown with our Christmas coat—only this time none of the children was wearing it. We drove to an area where homeless people often spent the night, and we watched for someone who didn’t have anything warm to wear in the freezing winter air. When we spotted a man walking alone, my husband and son walked over to him. The rest of us watched as the man accepted the coat and smiled. Tears filled my eyes and I saw him put on our Christmas coat, the only gift we had to give that year.

Other Christmases have since passed, and we have been able to continue our tradition. None of us has forgotten about the Christmas coat, however. When I consider all the years the coat disguised us while we delivered gifts, the memory of the year we gave it away warms my heart the most.