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    Remembering the Sacrament

    As years go by, I continually reflect on the Sabbath day of my youth and young adulthood. I still remember the first day I passed the sacrament as a deacon, the little glass cups I passed to the members of our ward. A few years ago a Church building in my hometown was remodeled. A compartment in the pulpit had been sealed. When it was opened, there were some of these little glass cups that had remained hidden for years. One of them was presented to me as a memento.

    I also remember the green footlocker we carried with us in the Marine Corps. Inside the footlocker was a wooden tray, a package of sacrament cups so that we could be blessed by the peace and hope of the Lord’s Supper even in the conflict and despair of war.

    As I think about these sacrament cups of my youth, one in the sheltered valleys of my boyhood home and the other a thousand miles away in the Pacific, I am filled with gratitude that the Savior of the world was willing to drink from the “bitter cup” (3 Nephi 11:11) for my sake. And because He did, I can say as the Psalmist, “My cup runneth over” (Psalm 23:5) with the blessings of His infinite and eternal Atonement.

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