1973
Moroni, My Son
September 1973


“Moroni, My Son,” Ensign, Sept. 1973, 31

Moroni, My Son

In an early year of our uneasy peace

My wife brought forth a son, a solemn boy.

His eager eyes would follow me before

His feet could go; and when at last they could,

He toddled, walked, then strode beside me, all

My errands his. And now again his arm

Is mine. We hurl, hew, and grapple—not

For homes, for wives, for friends, for they are not;

We fight because we make defense or yield

Our witness of the Christ. My son’s keen eyes

Are warm, compassionate, as yet I glimpse

Them through his helmet’s narrow slit. My own

Would blur in gratitude, that he who grew

To manhood knowing war and hateful truce

Thinks mercy, charity for brethren foe.

That look I will carry with me when I go

And place it gratefully at Jesus’ throne.

(See W of M 1; Morm. 6; Moro. 7–9.)

Painting by Arnold Friberg