“Mirthright,” Ensign, Aug. 1986, 63
For a special family home evening, we settled down cozily to watch a film put out by the Church. After several attempts, we managed to thread the projector and start the film. Our three-year-old daughter, Amanda, kept interrupting, insisting, “It’s spillin’, it’s spillin’,” but finally we managed to get her to quiet down and watch the film.
When it was over, there was Amanda sprawled on the floor, studying the loops of loose film that had spilled across the carpet without winding on the takeup reel.
The title of the film? “Are You Listening.” We concluded that perhaps we needed to rewind it, then watch and listen again.
Our new Sunbeam was eager to participate in the usual conversation on the way home from church. When it was his turn to tell the family about his class, he confidently replied that the lesson was on “sit and listen!”
Arana Hills, Queensland, Australia
During a family home evening on prayer, we were recounting the story of Daniel and the lion’s den. We inquired as to what happened after Daniel was placed in the den of lions. Our three-year-old son, Ross, explained that the lions said a prayer thanking Heavenly Father for the food.
Jan Christensen Hyatt
Twin Falls, Idaho
One morning as I was baby-sitting for a neighbor, a commercial came on television for a well-known alcoholic recovery program. I noticed three-year-old Jared watching it very intently. A moment later he turned to me and pronounced rather somberly, “Sister Stevens, did you know we have a drinking problem in our ward?” I hardly dared to think what I might hear next. “Yup,” Jared nodded gravely, “the children’s water fountain in the hallway doesn’t work.”
Cynthia Brown Stevens
My four-year-old grandson was delighted with the hiking kit he had received for Christmas, but was a little uncertain what the compass could do for him. However, his six-year-old sister had no trouble describing its use. “Well, Wade, this is a compass. You take it with you when you go hiking, and it shows you which way to go, and you’ll never get lost.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Of course, it only works if you’re a good boy.”
My husband had been patiently teaching our three-year-old daughter, Amanda, to play chess. He had taught her the names of the pieces earlier and was demonstrating their moves. As he picked up one of them, she warned defiantly, “Dad, don’t move my Mormon!” For a moment he couldn’t understand what she was talking about, until he realized he had picked up her bishop.
Joan K. Christensen