She Gave Me Her Handkerchief
August 1981

“She Gave Me Her Handkerchief,” Ensign, Aug. 1981, 39

She Gave Me Her Handkerchief

I’ll always remember the lovely gift my Relief Society visiting teacher gave me when my son passed away. Her mother, before becoming blind, had crocheted the borders of a number of beautiful linen handkerchiefs. “There will come times in your life when you can’t think of a gift to give,” she told her daughter. “Use these for those special occasions.”

As we stood greeting friends and loved ones at my son’s viewing and during an extended hour and a half beyond the scheduled time, a surging of strength filled my being as I squeezed the beautiful white handkerchief tightly in my palm. It continuously reminded me of the genuine concern, the kind support, and the unfeigned love of a true sister in the gospel. It silently assured me that I was not alone. And the next day it sustained me throughout the funeral services. For two days I clasped securely in my hand that very meaningful gift from my visiting teacher.—Carolyn Joyner Freebairn, Salt Lake City, Utah