1998
Simple as a Sunset
June 1998


“Simple as a Sunset,” Liahona, June 1998, 7

Simple as a Sunset

It was dusk as my mother and I drove to my grandparents’ home. I stared out the window, lost in my own thoughts.

“Pretty sunset,” my mother commented.

“Mmmm,” I mumbled in agreement, seeing the glorious sunset for the first time.

“Do you know what Davy says?” she asked me. I turned toward her, suddenly interested. Eloise, my mother’s best friend, had died two years earlier after battling cancer. She left behind four children. The youngest was seven-year-old Davy.

“He says sunsets make him think about his mother,” she said, choking back tears. “He says it’s just like she’s smiling at him.”

I turned my attention to the evening sky. Davy’s words brought me a new perspective. The sunset was now more than a swirl of reds and yellows making intricate and beautiful patterns in the sky. It was a reminder of Eloise and others who had passed on and their love for those they had left behind.

As we drove on in silence, I watched the sunset fade into night. I was suddenly more aware of the beauty of the trees, the stars, the moon, and the clouds. I am thankful to Heavenly Father for the beautiful gifts he gives us every day. And I am thankful for a wise young boy who can see Heavenly Father’s love in something as simple as a sunset.