OF GIVING AND GETTING

"My hopes rose high and me thought my evil days were at an end, and I stood waiting for alms to be given unasked and for wealth scattered on all sides in the dust.

The chariot stopped where I stood. Thy glance fell on me and thou camest down with a smile. I felt that the luck of my life had come at last. Then, of  a sudden, thou didst hold out thy right hand and say, "What hast thou to give to me?"

Ah, what a kingly jest was it to open thy palm to a beggar to beg! I was confused and stood undecided, and then from my wallet I slowly took out the least little grain of corn and gave it to thee.

But how great my surprise when at the day's end I emptied my bag on the floor to find a least little grain of gold among the poor heap! I bitterly wept and wished that I had had the heart to give thee my all."

- Rabindranath Tagore, "Song Offerings"

AT THE CHURCH CHRISTMAS PARTY

My little Johnny, who was three,
Climbed with lights in his eyes onto Santa's knee.
"And what would you like this year, my boy?
If I can I'll bring your favorite toy."

Johnny didn't even need time to think.
"I want a dolly", he said, "that will eat and drink."
Twelve parents, at least, turned to look at me,
And a big man said suspiciously,

"Next year he'll want a dress or two".
I replied, "It's the father in him coming through."
"Well, that's not what some folks would say,
A kid's character's built by the way he'll play."

My little Johnny, who was three,
Climbed with lights in his eyes from Santa's knee.
And the big man grinned as he watched his son
As Santa Clause for a tank and a gun.

- Carol Lynn Pearson

LEAN ON MY AMPLE ARM

Lean on my ample arm

O thou depressed!

And I will bid the storm

Cease in thy breast.

Whate'er thy lot may be 

On life's complaining sea,

If thou wilt come to me,

Thou shalt have rest.

Lift up thy tearful eyes

Sad heart, to me;

I am the sacrifice offered for thee.

In me thy pain shall cease,

In me is thy release,

In me thou shalt have peace,

Eternally.

- Theodore E. Curtis

FROM GOD'S ARMS TO MY ARMS TO YOURS

So many wrong decisions in my past I'm not quite sure
If I can ever hope to trust my judgement anymore.
But lately I've been thinking, 'cause it's all I've had to do
And in my heart I feel that I should give this child to you.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms to my arms to yours.

If you choose to tell him and if he wants to know
How the one who gave him life could bear to let him go
Just tell him there were sleepless nights
I prayed and paced the floors,
I knew the only peace I'd find was if this child was yours.

And maybe you can tell your baby,
When you love him so, that he's been loved before
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms to my arms to yours.

Now I know that you don't have to do this
But, could you kiss him once for me
The first time that he ties his shoes or falls and skins his knee?
And could you hold him twice as long when he makes his mistakes?
And tell him that he's not alone, sometimes that's all it takes.
I know how much he'll ache.

This may not be the answer for another girl like me
And I'm not on a soapbox saying how we all should be
I'm just trusting in my feelings and I'm trusting God above
And I'm trusting you can give this baby both his mother's love.

And maybe you can tell your baby
When you love him so, that he's been loved before
By someone who delivered your son
From God's arms to my arms to yours.

- Michael McLean, Album: One Heart In The Right Place

VESSELS OF HONOUR

"On 19 December 1841 the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles met in the home of the Prophet Joseph Smith. According to the minutes of the meeting kept by Wilford Woodruff, 'Elder Heber C. Kimball preached....of the clay in the hands of the potter, that when it [was] marred in the hands of the potter it was cut off the wheel and then thrown back again into the mill, to go into the next batch, and was a vessel of dishonour; but all clay that formed well in the hands of the potter....was a vessel of honour'.

Our lives may also be vessels of honour, a work of beauty in the hands of the Master potter, if we will respond to His call, be pliable in His hands, and learn from the things that we suffer."

-  Jean A. Tefan, "Jeremiah: As Potter's Clay", Ensign, Oct 2002, p 11

THE REWARD OF A PROMISE

"....there is a story told in the Midrash. It begins with Abraham sitting in the door of his tent in the plain of Mamre in the heat of the day...it said it was a day like the breath of Gehinnom. Like the breath of Hell was coming out, and you can see the kind of country it was, and is, when this is, the heat and the dust and the sand...that's utter desolation. And he was worried, of course, because he says some poor stranger might be lost out there. Someone might have lost his way, and be perishing, because you're not going to last an hour in this. So he sent his faithful servant Eleazer out to look everywhere. He sent him out in all directions and he came back, "No, I can't find anyone anywhere." He was still worried. He says, "There might be someone out there"....So he went out himself, though he was very sick at the time. He was sick and ailing, and old, and he went out into that Hell. And he looked and searched, but he found no one. And at the end of the day he came back exhausted toward his tent. As he approached the tent the three strangers were standing there. It was the Lord and the two with Him. Because the Lord goes with His two counselors so to speak. He throws himself down on his face, and then it is that He promises him Isaac. As a reward for what he had done. This supreme offering. It's a very moving story. He's gone out to look for his fellow man and....out in that dusty hell, you see, all alone. Eleazer couldn't find any, and he said, "I think I can find someone". Well he found something. He found the answer to the thing he'd prayed for all his life. His son Isaac. It's a beautiful story."  ("The Faith of an Observer-Conversations with Hugh Nibley", pp 28-29)