A Teacher and a Master

He’d taken youth on journeys through tales of people past.

He’d entertained and taught them.  His love for them was fast.

But teachers can’t continue forever in the schools.

Retirement impending, he couldn’t break the rules.

But his heart was set on teaching, on helping youth to grow.

How could he continue?  The Lord would let him know.

“You’ve taught them well and shown the way to gain from books and text,

“But now your time needs to be spent with boys in freezing tents.

“From tender footed cubs, you’ll fashion mighty men.

“Each badge will bring them closer to coming Home again.”

And so the history teacher, a Master has become

In motivating, guiding, and strengthening God’s sons.

He takes them to the pastures in sacred mountains where

Their souls can graze on lessons that God can teach them there.

From week to week he pushes.  Their strength and honor grow.

To God and Country their hearts turn, their duty come to know.

The fledgling wings are stretched out and heads are held up high

As from the nest where eaglets grew, great Eagles fill the sky.

Dear Brother Johnson, thank you, for all the time you give

That our boys may be Eagles, and soar to God, and live.

A Mother's Prayer

(Sung to the tune of A Child's Prayer from 

the LDS Primary Children's Songbook.)

Heavenly Father, are you really there,

And do you hear and answer every mother’s prayer?

I thought that my life would be a dream

But now that it’s here I want to sit and scream.

Heavenly Father, I remember when

I would see older women peck like mother hens

I’d pray that children would come to me

Cuz I’d never rant or yell, but perfect be.

I need your help.

I’m going crazy.

These are your children,

Tell me what to do now.

He hears my prayer.

He sees I’m trying,

So I’ll climb out of this closet and go find my kids. 

The Gift of A Capella

One of the highlights of our trip to Idaho was introducing my husband and children to the Ricks College (now BYUI) Campus.  I enjoyed showing them around my old stomping grounds.  I thought it would be fun to visit, but I was not prepared for what would happen when we toured the Snow Building, where I had spent most of my waking hours for 2 years. 

As we walked in the doors my emotions became very keen to the past.  We found our way through the “fish bowl,” into the dark corridors of the Barrus Concert Hall and the tears began.  Old friends and strains of music from long ago nights flowed from those walls and into my heart.  My memories came alive, the risers, the polyester dresses, the anticipation, Brother Luke, the smiles, the audience, they were all there dancing out of the cobwebs in my mind.  I could not speak, only try to hold back the tears as I realized once again how much this place, those people, had meant to me.  So much of who I became, how I was molded, took place right there.  Some of my greatest moments were standing on that stage hanging on until the last note stopped ringing in the air and the applause would come, feeling a part of something that was so close to perfection.  We worked, we played, we studied, and we prayed that our music would be all it could be, that we could be one instrument.  We were.  Our hearts, all fifty of them, united in music, as friends, pulling together, ringing as one voice.  Brother Luke’s motto, “Ban Mediocrity” had pushed us to levels none of us had ever before felt or achieved.  And there it all came back to me. 

I haunted that Hall a few minutes more, touched the seats, opened the doors, stood on the stage, hummed a note or two, cried a few more tears, and thanked my Heavenly Father for the gift He had given me, the gift of A Cappella.

November 2007