“Angels on Horseback,” Ensign, Mar. 1992, 58–59
My mind is rich with memories of my childhood in Idaho many years ago—and the visiting teachers. Sometimes these precious sisters would come on horseback or in a wagon, and sometimes they would walk for a mile or two over the countryside to make their visits. But regardless of their mode of transportation, they always came with smiling faces and hearts full of love.
When I was twelve years old, my younger sister passed away. The visiting teachers came. I can still hear their kind words and feel their gentle touch. It seemed that while they were with us, all was well.
The days after my sister’s death were long and lonely. My mother was not well, and Father’s work took him away from home a great deal. Next to Father’s homecomings, the hours we enjoyed most were those when the visiting teachers came. Even though many, many years have passed, I still remember those sisters as some of the strongest, sweetest influences in my life.
A few years later, our family moved to Smithfield, Utah. We were scarcely more than settled in our new location when one of my brothers died. There we were—not acquainted with anyone in the area, struggling with the death of a loved one. Friends and family who were tried and trusted were far away, and we felt alone.
I shall never forget the day I stood gazing out the window with tear-stained eyes and a heavy heart, and there came into my view two women, walking toward our home. “Mother,” I exclaimed, “the visiting teachers are coming!” I heard her grateful, reverent reply—“What a church. What a church.”
Now as the visiting teachers enter my home, I thank God for these angels of mercy. Many sorrowing hearts have been soothed and comforted, and the spirit of peace and prayer has filtered through the thickest walls of sorrow and despair, because the visiting teachers came.