“Mirthright,” Ensign, Feb. 1985, 69
As editor of Brigham Young University’s Daily Universe, my husband Roger had frequent opportunities to meet university and Church leaders. Once, at an honors banquet, he was seated near the late President Hugh B. Brown. President Brown introduced himself, and my husband responded: “I’m Roger Aylworth, the editor of the Universe.”
Elder Brown’s eyes twinkled as he solemnly took Roger’s hand. “I’ve never met anyone with quite your authority,” he said.
Susan H. Aylworth
I called a friend’s house one afternoon and her three-year-old daughter answered the telephone. When I asked for her mother, she said, “She isn’t here, she went to the temple to fix walls.”
I started to laugh and asked, “You mean she went to do sealings?”
“Oh, yes,” she replied, “ceilings.”
Salt Lake City, Utah
When our second son received the list of items he was to take on his mission, I questioned why anyone raised using disposable tissues needed twelve handkerchiefs. But our first son, then serving in the Mexico North Mission, answered my question when he wrote this advice home to his brother: “Also, take some handkerchiefs. They are the best things for cleaning dirt off your pants, cleaning your hands after fixing your bike, and checking the oil in your car.”
Our stake was about to be split and the Young Adults were talking about where the new boundaries might be. One blurted: “They ought to have all the guys in one stake and the girls in the other.”
Another replied, “You can’t do that, or you would have a miss-stake.”
Lisette knows all about my interest in whole grain cooking. When she told me she had finally found a recipe for soybeans that her children just loved, I reached for my pad and pen. Her recipe? Beanbags.
Van Zandt-Deming, Washington
I knew we had been going to too many meetings when I heard my three-year-old son proudly singing for his grandma “I am a child of God, And he has sent me here, Has given me an earthly home, With parents kind of here …”
Two old dears were talking about our LDS missionaries, and one of them was heard to say: “Oh, yes, they are very nice, and so polite. But if they read a passage of scripture and don’t agree with it, they cross it out with red ink.”
Rawtenstall, Lancashire, England
Grandpa was explaining to our son, three and one-half, that he was set apart for his calling as a bishop, just like our own bishop and my husband, who is a counselor in the bishopric.
Our little boy was quick to respond. “Yes, we set apart also. Daddy sits up front (next to the bishop), and we sit down below.”
“Is today really someday?” inquired five-year-old Danny while excitedly preparing for a family picnic.
“No,” his father answered, “today is not Sunday.”
Danny explained, “I don’t mean Sunday; I mean someday! You promised you would take me to the park someday.”
Carolyn J. Freebairn
Salt Lake City, Utah
Remember when everyone knew that M.I.A. stood for Mutual Improvement Association? Those initials still fly around. My Beehive-aged daughter, Ranei, was puzzled when her nonmember school friends asked her what M.I.A. meant, but she brightly chirped her interpretation—“Mormons in Action.”
Wellington, New Zealand
Discussing a verse in the scriptures, our Relief Society Spiritual Living leader asked us what the word Behold, at the beginning, might be saying to us. A sister near the front answered, “Pay attention, you might learn something.”
A sister on the back row raised her hand, saying, “I didn’t hear what she said,” so the instructor kindly repeated, “Pay attention, you might learn something.”
Although I had taught my two-year-old to pray, I sometimes wondered if she really understood what she was doing. My fears were laid to rest, however, when, after saying her own prayers, she began family prayer with, “Heavenly Father, I’m back …”