Roomful of Dorcases

I was a little anxious about teaching this morning. No matter how well prepared I am, I still always feel a bit jittery. By now, I should know better. After all, the people I have to present the various lessons to are ALWAYS receptive to what their teachers have to say. I think everyone feels that we’re all in this (whatever this might mean to you) and that we need to love and support one another. Being in a room with them feels like being surrounded with a group of  Dorcases.


The lesson was on charity, the pure love of Christ, and I had read the lesson itself, two magazine articles, and at least a dozen scriptures. I had even given assignments to eight class members, thus assuring that I’d have some participation. Seriously, even if I had done nothing but read the lesson and the accompanying scriptures, I think the lesson would have gone smoothly. Why? Because I’m fortunate to be part of a group of women who walk the charitable walk and who were willing to share their examples.

None of us are perfect. Some of the examples weren’t exemplary, and yet we learned from those too. For instance, someone shared a situation in which she saw someone who appeared to be in need, but in a hurry (maybe like the priest in the Good Samaritan story?), she drove on by. The next morning she read of a murder that had taken place at the location where she had spotted the person in need. At that moment, she vowed never to let an opportunity to show compassion pass.

She got her chance soon thereafter when she stopped to help someone in a motorized wheelchair. Assuming that he was “stuck” and needed her assistance, she was surprised when he told her that he was simply enjoying being outside listening to the sounds of life, including traffic and birds. Interestingly, the wheelchair-bound gentleman confided that this kind woman was the only person who had taken the time to stop and say hello. How hard it that??? Charity doesn’t have to involve big contributions, tasty casseroles, or hours in a homeless shelter. Taking the time to stop and say hello are charitable too.

There were several other wonderful examples of charity. However, the last one was the absolute best, and I think it demonstrates something we’re all guilty of. Valerie shared a recent scenario in which she and her husband and small child were shopping in Target. She saw a young couple with a baby, and she sensed that they were struggling with deciding what to buy with their limited funds. How could they make the proverbial dollar stretch? Compassionate and caring, Valerie sent up a silent prayer to her Heavenly Father asking that He help this young couple. She walked on by, and after a few seconds, her little girl asked, “Where’s Dad?” They turned around and spotted him. Wallet open, he was giving cash to the couple. A lump in her throat, Valerie thought of how she had prayed, but her husband had acted.

Haven’t we all done that? Haven’t we all asked God to bless the sick and the afflicted, the lame and the lonely? But have we done anything about these people in need? I feel fortunate to be a member of such an organization of “sisters” who love and support each other and anyone else they see in need. They, not I, taught the lesson this morning.

A Little Maid

I’m not good with children. Really, I’m not. I can love them and play with them and read to them, but teaching them is another story. That’s why I was a bit hesitant to substitute for one of the Primary teachers last Sunday. However, after reminding myself of the wonderful leaders and teachers who taught my three children when they were young, I agree to do it. After all, what kind of world would this be if no one volunteered to give time, energy, and guidance to the generations of the future?

That said, I’m sure glad that I said yes. Not only did I gain some insights into a fairly well-known Bible story, but I also got better acquainted with a wonderful group of children from ages 10-12. The story came from the II Kings, Chapter 5, and although I had a couple of activities and relevant stories to augment the lesson, I didn’t really need them because the children were so engaged…and engaging.

In brief, the story was about a great military leader, Namaan, who despite his victories and prestige, had a serious problem: leprosy. His wife had a “little maid” who had been captured by one of Namaan’s companies and brought back to Syria. One day she mentioned to Namaan’s wife that it would be so good if only he could meet Elisha, “the prophet in Samaria” because she was confident that Elisha could cure the leprosy. The wife apparently trusted this young maid because before you knew it, Namaan was asking the king to let him go to see Elisha. The king readily agreed, telling Namaan to go and sending him off with a letter to the king of Israel.

Elisha’s instructions to Namaan were simple, so simple in fact that Namaan was “wroth,” especially since they were delivered by a messenger and not Elisha himself. His servants prevailed upon him to do as Elisha told him to do, however, and after dipping himself in the Jordan River seven times, his leprosy was gone. He was clean, cured of the dreaded disease. Grateful, Namaan attempted to reward Elisha, but the latter refused any compensation, instead telling Namaan to “go in peace.” Gehazi, Elisha’s servant was not so scrupulous, but that’s a story for another day.

While most people probably read this story and think of Elisha and Namaan as being the prinicipal players, I keep thinking of the little maid. Not only was this young person (the children and I speculated about her age but never reached a consensus) kind enough to speak up to her mistress and tell her about Namaan, but she did so despite being captured and brought to his residence from Israel. I don’t know enough about her or about the history of the era to know whether this was “standard operating procedure,” but I do know that she was young and living away from her people. Still, she spoke up about the prophet of God, thereby saving a man’s life.

The lesson manual asked these questions that I’d never considered before Sunday: What does this tell us about this faithful Israelite girl? How can our faith help others? The children had plenty to say about the little maid and gave several examples of how they could say and do lots of different things to point people in the direction of God and His servants. What particularly touched me was how they realized that they, like the Israelite girl, could influence their parents, siblings, and maybe even teachers and other adults.

What about you? If a child can influence others by her actions (or his) what can we do?

The Hundred Dresses

It’s hard not to enjoy yourself at a meeting when you’re surrounded with like-minded people who are supportive, encouraging, and caring. When the meeting itself is focused on individual growth and service to others, the enjoyment factor is moved up a notch.


Here’s what happened at Relief Society the other night. Three women took turns reading from a children’s book entitled The Hundred Dresses, a book about a little girl named Wanda who claimed to have one hundred dresses hanging in her closet. As far as the other girls could see, however, she only had one faded blue one that she wore day after day after day. They began to tease her about it, and then one day her father wrote a letter to the school announcing that he was moving his little family away from a place where his children were made fun of. To make a long story short, the other girls felt remorse at their behavior, but it was too late to make amends. One of them, Maddie, felt especially ashamed because although she had been feeling uneasy about the taunting, she had remained quiet.

You can guess the underlying themes in this book, and our leaders took the opportunity to remind us to show kindness to everyone regardless of social class, accent, race, appearance, or occupation. Everyone had been asked to bring a dress to donate to Sister Care, an organization for abused and battered women and their children. It was awesome to look around the room and look at the lovely dresses that had been donated.

After listening to the book and discussing its several themes, then several women shared stories about their favorite dresses. Some of them brought pictures of themselves wearing the dresses, and a couple actually wore them that night. Kitty wore an outfit that had cost a pretty penny a couple of decades ago, and the story about its purchase entertained us big time. I loved all the stories, but I think my favorite was Vickie’s because she brought pictures of her wedding that took place in June, 1971. Not only did she tell the interesting tale about how she found just the perfect dress for the right price, but she also told of how many things she and Joe had experienced in the nearly four decades since that June afternoon.

Since Thursday, I’ve been thinking of my favorite dresses. There are too many to write about! One I’m thinking of tonight, however, is an Easter dress that my mother made for me when I was a junior in college. It was made of some pink floral material with a little slinkiness about it. My sister had one too; hers was green. I’m not sure why this particular dress was so special unless it’s because we corresponded back and forth about it, and my sister and I knew how hard our mother was working on the dresses.

Dresses can make you feel beautiful…or kind of dowdy. I try to stay away from the latter. I thinking right now of some special little girls who LOVE to dress up in princess dresses. In fact, Brooke and Emma wore their pink princess dresses to see Toy Story last night. Lauren says that as soon as Sallie gets home every day, she changes into her Tinker Bell dress. Can you blame them for wanting to look like the princesses they are?

I probably should end this post with a serious note that reminds us to give to those less fortunate, to take up for those who are teased or mistreated, and to give to those less fortunate. But I’m not. You already know that, right? I’m going to end by asking about your favorite dress. Do you have a favorite one? What’s the story that goes with it?

Serving Apple Pancakes

This post isn’t about one of the women in the Bible but rather a talk I heard a woman give in church Sunday. One of the things I enjoy about listening to people speak in church is that they often add another twist to a familiar story or scripture that I hadn’t considered before. This past Sunday one of my daughters and I had the good fortune to attend Sacrament meeting in an Atlanta, GA ward, and every speaker gave me food for thought, especially a simple comment by the last speaker. And the goodies in the picture above? You'll have to read the post to see how they relate.

We’re all familiar with the verse in Joshua in which he tells the Israelites that for him and his house, “We will serve the Lord.” He has admonished them to choose “this day” whom they will serve, not tomorrow or next week but THIS DAY. I’ve read and heard this verse about a hundred times or more. Really, I have. I’ve seen it cross stitched and placed on display. I’ve seen plaques and framed art with Joshua’s words hung on walls or sitting on small easels, words to remind “believers” of their choice.

Here’s my confession. I’ve always focused on the choosing part and not so much on the serving part. It’s a fact that tomorrow’s blessings, both temporal and spiritual, depend on the choices we make today. While the verbs seem to go together, I’ve been guilty of choosing more than serving; it’s easier and really requires no effort on my part. However, it makes perfect sense that if you choose Him, you would want to serve Him.

Since Sunday, I’ve been thinking more about the last section of Joshua 24:15 “…but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” More specifically, I’ve been thinking about what serving actually means and what I could be doing. It doesn’t mean I have to serve a full-time mission or do volunteer work at the local hospital…although those are certainly worthy means of providing service. In my little corner of the world, I could feed the missionaries more often, treat a friend to lunch, send someone a note or card, watch a young mother’s child so that she could have a little free time, take a neighbor some cookies, advise a student on career choice, lend someone a book, and so forth. The list of little ways to follow Joshua’s instruction are numerous and varied.

I absolutely have to share a recent example of serving that I witnessed yesterday. It’s about my friend Connie who just came back from a mountain getaway with her husband. She took lots of beautiful pictures and posted them all on the internet for other people to enjoy. Then she started a little contest, and the winner is going to get a basket of goodies that Connie purchased while on her trip. I see that as serving. She could have kept everything (memories, pictures, and treats) all to herself. But she didn’t. She knows choosing means loving and sharing and serving, and that’s what she’s doing. Check out her blog at http://fogle143.blogspot.com/
and throw your name in the hat. (I couldn't get this link to work, but you can use the one to Loose Lemons in the sidebar).

I’m curious about the thoughts of any readers that might be reading this. Have you, like yours truly, focused more on the choosing than the serving part? Can you think of some little acts of service you’ve seen around you lately?

Aunt Doc, a.k.a. Dorcas

It started with a conversation about Aunt Doc, a.k.a. Dorcas. I was telling Paul and Amanda a little bit about her, my grandmother’s oldest sister. A seamstress and smart lady, she lived to be mid-90 (not sure of the exact age). Her husband died at a relatively young age leaving her with a daughter to raise, and she never remarried. I used to go to North Carolina with my grandparents often as a child, and we’d always stay at her house. From my youthful vantage point, it seemed that my grandmother and her sisters all looked up to Aunt Doc and admired her greatly. A sharp business woman, she was a seamstress who owned her own shop downtown.

Anyway, as I was telling Paul and Amanda about her, they looked at each other with that “aha” expression, and he said, “Yeah, we did some genealogy work about her and wondered what kind of name that was. We weren’t even sure how to pronounce it.”

“I don’t know how to pronounce her name either,” I admitted. “I always called her Aunt Doc.”

“But Dorcas…what kind of name is that?” Paul persisted.

“Well, I don’t know what her parents were thinking, but I do know that Dorcas was a pretty well-respected woman in the New Testament.” I replied. “She was even called a disciple.”

Naturally, I couldn’t think of the exact scripture at that moment, but later I looked it up. Acts 9: 36 – 43 tells her story.

The Dorcas in Acts was a seamstress like Aunt Doc, and she evidently did a lot of good for other people and was greatly loved. I’m saying that based on the weeping and wailing that went on in her room after her death. Her friends sent for Peter, who upon his arrival, asked the widows and grief stricken friends to leave the room. After praying, he then brought her back to life, and although that’s the last time we read about Dorcas, I like to think that she spent several more years “doing good” and sewing for others.

Last week, our ward’s Relief Society tied quilts for the Ronald McDonald house, and when I saw the pictures, I thought, “Wow! We have at least a dozen Dorcases in our ward.” I wasn’t there that night, and I can’t sew well enough to make clothing or quilts. I can, however, support those who do, including my daughter Carrie who has caught the sewing bug and has created many articles of clothing for her children. Above is a photo of Braden and Brooke sporting their new pajama pants.

The world has need of more Dorcases. Just because she’s only given two verses in the New Testament, it doesn’t mean that she wasn’t important. I think her life had great significance and that we could all learn a lesson or two from her.

Perceived Righteousness

Watching Annual Conference was an interesting experience yesterday, quite challenging too. We don’t have the BYU channel here at the beach, but “no problem,” I thought. I had my trusty pink Dell laptop and was confident that we could all watch it online. And actually, I was right; we could watch it, but we really couldn’t hear it very well. Despite our efforts to change it, the volume stayed low. Plus, there was the constant background noise of four active little children, one of whom is still a demanding infant. Adorable beyond description, Colton just couldn’t understand why all the grown-ups had rather look at a computer screen than at him.

That said, I did get a few nuggets to ponder from yesterday’s experience. I was reminded of the importance of loving and serving one another. Despite a person’s skin color, country of origin, or bank account, he or she is still a child of a loving Heavenly Father. According to Elder Uchtdorf, sometimes people hold themselves in high esteem because of wealth, prestige, or perceived righteousness. I loved that he said that. Why?? Because it’s so true. For some reason, the wealth and prestige part doesn’t bother me nearly as much as the perceived righteousness.

The “holier than thou” aspect really bugs me. I’ve heard a woman hiss hatefully at her husband when he asked her a question during Sunday school, a woman who purports to be the perfect wife and mother. I’ve heard innumerable (yes, that many) accounts of people judging others (Did you see than short dress???) from people who darken the church doorways whenever they’re open. I’ve been in homes too cluttered and dirty to feel the spirit and been judged by its owners for drinking caffeine. When I was a younger mother, I was hurt many times by “well meaning Christians” who took it upon themselves to remind me that my place was in the home with my children, not in the workplace. I know people who wouldn’t watch a television program on Sunday who are so “righteous” that being around them is scary. Really.

I’m a roll this morning and could go on and on. But then, I’d be guilty of doing the very thing I’m preaching against: being judgmental and hypocritical. I’ll quit while I’m ahead. I hope we can embrace all of God’s children and remember that love is the word.

Not so Perfect

I’m one of the most fortunate people in the world. I have friends from all walks of life who offer support, encouragement, advice, and FUN. I don’t hang around with naysayers, at least not for long. I’m a firm believer that you can’t bring someone into the light by stepping into the darkness with them (an idea I picked up from Stephen Covey). Consequently, I try to surround myself with positive people. Connie is one of them.

The other night we met at Chili’s to share a belated birthday dinner, and we had a great conversation. We touched on children, grandchildren, aging, husbands, fashion, and yes…gospel principles. While she and I both strive to walk the straight path and to be as loving, accepting, and understanding as possible, we realize that we aren’t perfect. We also realize that no one is. Why then, do some people think they are and proceed to find fault with less than perfect people like Jayne and Connie?

We’re all at different places in our spiritual development. Some have no problems with paying tithing but can’t seem to pay a compliment to a spouse or child who might be starving for a kind word. Is it easier to write a check than give attention to loved ones? Some people keep the Sabbath holy and would rather go hungry than buy a loaf of bread on Sunday. There’s nothing wrong with that, but I’ve heard some of these folks made snide and snarly remarks to others. Some people would never dream of drinking a glass of sweet tea, but might weigh an extra 50 or 60pounds. I recall hearing someone make disparaging remarks about a woman who often left church early (tsk tsk), but little did they know that she left to prepare and take meals to an elderly couple in her neighborhood.

I hope I don’t appear self-righteous or judgmental. I’m just saying that we’re all on different places in our spiritual development path, and that our job is to encourage, support, and help each other rather than bring them down or thwart their progress. If someone is slipping and sliding in the mud, lend a hand. If she has rocks in her path that keep tripping her up, help her kick them out of the way. If she’s weary and the path seems long and arduous, sit down beside her and rest a moment.

Here’s another Covey phrase: Be a candle, not a critic; be a light, not a judge. Sure am glad I have lots of candles and lights in my life. I can do without the judges and critics. Can’t you?

Thanks Michelle

As always (yes always), I came home from church feeling edified, inspired, and uplifted. Not only did I get to spend some time with like-minded (like-spirited) people, I also got to sing, listen, and learn. Anyone who could’ve sat through today’s Sacrament meeting and be unmoved has a heart of stone.

I’m looking forward to studying the Old Testament in Sunday school this year. When I was a child, I was captivated by the stories. How did Daniel make it in the lion’s den? Why didn’t Isaac try to get away from his father when Abraham needed a sacrifice? Wasn’t it obvious to him what might happen? How can I get the faith of Hannah? And talk about women—wow, that Esther was awesome! This year we’ll revisit some of these stories, and I know I’ll gain insight into their meaning and application to today’s world.

In Relief Society, Michelle talked about what we could be working towards as a ward this year. Beginning by saying that she’s not that crazy about resolutions, she quoted someone who said if you’re doing something wrong, why wait until January 1st to correct it? Do it now. If there’s something you need to work on, do it now too.

After a few more introductory remarks, Michelle said they (the RS Presidency in our ward) had decided that 2010 was going to be a year of service. “Let’s take the focus off of ourselves and onto others,” she suggested. After listening to several scriptures and numerous stories of service that had occurred right in our ward, I think we all felt more resolved to be a little kinder, to look out for each other, and to offer whatever type of service we could. Some people are into making casseroles while others might find arranging flowers or cleaning houses more to their liking.

How often have you intended to help someone but procrastinated, hoping someone else would take care of it? What if the Lord needs something done and He wants you to do it…but you don’t? What if you’re the person who’s the designated miracle worker, but you’re too busy watching Dancing with the Stars or shopping to make a phone call or write a quick note? Do you get caught up in the “thick of thin things?” I do.

I was pretty good about doing charitable acts during December, but just like many others, I have to work hard to overcome what I’ve heard referred to as the “seasonal belch of philanthropy.” I’m not into resolutions either so I’m not exactly “resolving” to give more service. However, I am going to try to keep that Christmas spirit of love and giving in my heart and actions all year long.

Thanks Michelle. Great lesson.

The Blind Side's Virtuous Woman

I keep thinking about a movie I saw Thanksgiving afternoon, The Blind Side. Starring Sandra Bullock, the movie chronicled the life of a family who “took in" a young black man and made him a part of their family. That’s actually an understatement. They loved him, taught him, took up for him, and included him in all aspects of their daily lives. Plus, they got involved in his life and nurtured and mentored him in sports and academics. In case you’re thinking that this was just another sappy, sentimental movie perfect for the holidays, think again. This movie is based on reality, and this family really exists. They live in Memphis, Tennessee. And the young black man? Well, he’s Michael Oher who plays for the Baltimore Ravens of the NFL.

What I’m leading up to is that the mother, Leigh Anne Tuohy, is like no one I’ve ever known. If anyone fits the description of the virtuous woman described in Proverbs, she does. Honestly, I know of no other woman who has willingly extended herself to that degree to another person, much less a homeless, impoverished young man from the other side of the tracks. Heck, I know women who are not even willing to make sacrifices for their own children, much less a child who is totally “different,” someone who’s a “project from the projects.” Nevertheless, Leigh Anne did. She gave him the basics of a bed, food, clothing, and then she set out to consult with his teachers, coach, and biological mother. She was “there” for him at practices and games and any other situation that a mother should be. Actually the entire family was involved, but it was the mom who was the catalyst behind everything from getting him off the rainy street to signing with Ole Miss.

So now Leigh Anne Tuohy is one of my new role models. I’m not as big hearted, generous, or influential as she is, and I suspect that you might not be either. However, there is something that each one of us can do for another person to make his or her life better, and I think that’s what our Creator expects us to do. He expects us to extend love to others at all times and in all places, but at this time of the year, it seems especially important.

So I don’t know about you, but as for me and my house, we’re committing to at least one extraordinary act of kindness every day of this special holiday season. I’ll never be Leigh Anne, and I feel totally inadequate when compared to the virtuous woman in Proverbs, and yet there’s something I can do. And there’s something you can do too. Let’s commit to it today.

Angels Among Us

I love Relief Society. That’s no secret to anyone who knows me. This worldwide women’s group just celebrated its 167th anniversary, and in our ward we had a wonderful program and meal to commemorate its founding. The beautiful statues of angels on every table and the delicious angel hair pasta accented the evening’s theme of “Angels Among Us.”

After savoring our dessert of angel food cake (what else could it have been???), one of the leaders read parts of Jeffrey R. Holland’s recent conference address entitled “The Ministry of Angels.” Here’s one of my favorite parts: “Some of them we walk with and talk with--here, now, every day. Some of them reside in our own neighborhoods. Some of them gave birth to us, and in my case, one of them consented to marry me. Indeed heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind.”

Several sisters then spoke of times in their lives when angels had come along to offer support and love, often in the form of time, lunch, candy, or a listening ear. The size of the gift wasn’t as important as the offering itself. All of the stories were great and served as reminders that we can all do a little more to reach out to our sister angels…and to any and everyone who needs our help.

I must share just one story told that night. Everyone goes though trials, but it seems that many of the trials women face revolve around our families. This story involved the grandmother of toddler twin girls whose mother served in Afghanistan for 15 months. The grandmother lovingly cared for these infant babies while their mother (her daughter) served her country. It was a family affair, and the father and sons also got into the act. In doing so, they all grew to greatly love these tiny girls. As the time approached for the twins’ mother to return, the family began to reflect on this and to realize how big a part of their lives these babies had become.

During these “winding up” days, an “angel” called the grandmother and invited her to have lunch with her and two of her daughters-in-law. They took the grandmother to a nice restaurant, and one of the daughters-in-law presented a poem that she had written for her. The lunch and poem buoyed the grandmother’s spirits as the day of leave-taking approached. Alas, the day arrived, and the babies left with their mother. The grandmother was “okay” for a couple of days, and then the emptiness and quietness of the house hit her. She still feels sad sometimes, but according to her, when she reflects on the nice lunch and rereads the poem, she feels encouraged just knowing that she has angels to bolster her.

Next, we listened to a song about angels being among us as we watched a slideshow of the sisters in our ward. All of us were there (at least all who had been at church the prior Sunday to have her picture snapped by a clever RS counselor), and it was both fun and inspiring to listen to the words of the song while watching the faces of my sisters flashed upon the screen. As I looked at them, I could readily remember something that every single one had done or said to uplift me or lighten my load. Finally, we all filled out sheets with information about ourselves: what makes us smile, five random things about us, our favorite color, what makes us happiest, something we hope to accomplish this year, and so forth. The sheets were taken up and then distributed to other people there who are supposed to act in angelic ways towards the person whose sheet they have. I have someone who’s favorite color is blue. I’d say more, but I want my identity to stay secret.

You don’t have to be a member of the Relief Society of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to act like an angel to someone…or to have someone show love, compassion, and kindness to you. Do you have a story to share? Or perhaps an intention that you plan to carry out? Please share something. Then I’ll tell another story, this one about a three-generation thing.

The Virtuous Woman

Anyone who knows me very well knows that one determining factor in my decision to join the LDS faith is the Relief Society, a worldwide women’s organization designed to provide relief for the needy and to bring people to Christ. In the late 1970’s I was on my way home after Sacrament meeting when a friend asked me to go to Relief Society with her. “What’s that?” I asked. Sarah simply said, “Come and see.” I did. Wow! I was “engaged” from the first moment. I’d never been to a meeting in which women from 18 to 100 (or even older) could and did attend. At that time we still had Cultural Refinement meetings, and that day the lesson was on Sri Lanka. HUH? I loved the idea that this was like school and church combined, the main difference being no tests.

Later that same summer, a young woman with a newborn baby came to my house and said that she was my visiting teacher. This seemed strange and wonderful at the same time. Here she was taking time from her busy schedule with her infant in tow to share a spiritual thought with me and see if there was anything I needed or that she could help me with. I knew from her spirit that she was sincere, and again I felt myself being drawn more towards this organization. Before Leann (I still remember her name) left, she shared this thought: A woman sets the emotional tone for the home. I was young, and that was news to me…good news, and news I’ve never forgotten. If Leann Bodine is out there in Blogland, I hope she reads this and knows that she everlastingly affected a sister and her family in Myrtle Beach nearly 30 years ago.

Years passed, and yet another influential sister moved into our ward. Truthfully, it wasn’t exactly “our” ward since I wasn’t a member, but I thought of it that way. By this time, I had a couple of children, and I could see how the church auxiliaries were blessing their young lives. Frances moved into our neighborhood, and she became my visiting teacher. Come rain or come shine, Frances would visit with a lesson, a laugh, a story, or a helping hand. I recall one hectic afternoon when I had come home from work with two little girls to occupy while I prepared dinner. Seeing that I couldn’t sit and talk, Frances came right into the kitchen and stirred my culinary concoctions on the stove while I tended to Carrie and Elizabeth’s immediate needs. Frances was (and still is) a powerful force for good in many people’s lives. So are Sarah, Dorothea, Cora Lee, Mary, Carol, Terri, Teri, Gail, and too many others to mention.

I hated to leave the beach area, but I did, and here in the midlands, I’ve found another group of sisters with strong testimonies and big hearts. This past Sunday, our Relief Society lesson was on visiting teaching, and to keep us mindful of our commitments, the Presidency gave us all a little souvenir and a reminder of how to live. The souvenir was a pretty to-do list, and we were encouraged to put “Be kind” at the top of our list each day. That might sound like a little thing to some people, but to me (and the people on my row), it’s a grand idea, especially since it goes with our motto, Charity Never Faileth.

One more story. Years ago I read an article in the Ensign that was based on journal entries from someone who lived years and years ago, probably in the 1800’s. When this person was a child, her family had to move away from friends, family, and familiar surroundings and relocate in a remote, cold, lonely, desolate place…or so it seemed to her. Tragedy befell the family in that one of her siblings died. The mother was distraught, and the sadness permeated the family and all of their activities. Nothing seemed right anymore, and they longed for their former associations.

One day, this little girl was looking out the window at the blanket of snow surrounding the modest home for as far as the eye could see. Conditions were brutal. As she stared at the horizon, she saw two figures trudging towards the house. On they came, slowly making their way, and suddenly the child realized who they were. Although she didn’t recognize their faces, she KNEW who they were: her mother’s visiting teachers. I don’t remember much else about this article, but I do remember how it ended. The writer said that even as a child, she had thought to herself, “What a church, what a church!”

It's an honor to be associated with so many women who exemplify the virtuous woman spoken of in Proverbs 31. While we're all far from perfect, it's wonderful to be associated with others who are also striving to be kind, love one another, and bring others unto Christ.

P.S. We have a lot of fun too, but that's a post for another day.