“Mirthright,” Ensign, Oct. 1974, 43
The birth of our fourth daughter and my responsibilities as Relief Society president often took priority over sorting the family laundry. One morning, after I finally got the laundry sorted, my husband opened his drawer and exclaimed, “Look! The sock fairy came last night.”
My sister’s husband is a stake mission president and they like to invite contacts to their home for dinner. Recently, their four-year-old daughter asked some Black guests if they were Indians.
“No,” replied the gentleman. “Do you know what we are?”
“Yes,” the child promptly responded. “You’re people!”
Her six-year-old brother added, “And it doesn’t matter how you talk or what you look like, Heavenly Father loves all people the same.”
The couple, who had requested missionary lessons, were baptized soon afterward.
James M. Gardiner
While traveling home from the Hill Cumorah Pageant, six bus loads of girls stopped to eat. One of the local customers, looking very startled, asked where we were from. When he heard we were returning from the Hill Cumorah Pageant, he promptly asked, “Who won?”
Brigham City, Utah
Our family relations class discussion of good discipline methods was being undermined by a two-year-old youngster whose father had been called out at the beginning of class and whose mother had just bolted with a choking baby. Our efforts to keep him from hitting, yelling, and climbing ended when he slammed the piano cover on another child’s fingers. Remarking that here was a clear need for “the laying on of hands by one having authority,” my husband scooped the boy up and went to find the father.
Carol B. Quist
West Caldwell, New Jersey
My husband had been teaching our three-year-old daughter the famous baseball song, “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.” After attending her first few Sunday Schools and learning the song, “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam,” she proudly walked into the kitchen singing, “Jesus Wants Me for the Home Team.”
Our son recently began to enjoy repeating his bedtime prayers. Simultaneously, he was becoming very interested in his father’s chess set and in learning the names of all the pieces. One evening he repeated after me: “Bless the bishop,” and followed it immediately with, “and bless the pawn!”
Mrs. Keats Horstmann