If God in His wisdom
granted us stories to learn from and share with each other,
perhaps we should follow His example in sharing stories that
teach, uplift, and illuminate what is truly important and
how we might live more lovingly and abundantly.
So I gave my students an assignment. Each day, one of them
had to take the first five to ten minutes of class to share
a story they had found — a love story. It could be a family
story, a scriptural story, a story from a newspaper or magazine,
but it had to be a story about love and relationships and
marriage. A story that was personal. A story that was true.
A story that illuminated love and what it can and should be.
"My Soul Shall Live Because of Thee"
The scriptures actually have a few great love stories.
I don't mean syrupy sweet, sappy love stories. I mean genuine,
authentic, powerful stories of commitment and sacrificial
love. The story of Abraham and Sarah is such a story.
In 1990 I spent six months on a study abroad program at the
Jerusalem Center for Near Eastern Studies, associated with
Brigham Young University, in Jerusalem, Israel. The scriptures
were our textbooks; the land was our living history. Stories
from the scriptures came alive in that setting.
One day I was reading
of Abraham and Sarah in Abraham 2 and their journey toward
Egypt during a time of famine. The Lord tells Abraham that
the Egyptians "will kill you, but they will save her
alive" (Abraham 2:23) because of her beauty. To avoid
this, He counsels Abraham to ask Sarah to pose as his sister
and thus avoid the hostility of the Egyptians. Abraham does
so, putting his trust in the Lord and his life in the hands
of his beloved Sarah.
I remember reading
Abraham's entreaty to Sarah and then his final words to her:
"And my soul shall live because of thee."
Abraham is speaking
of his physical life, but upon reading those words I saw in
them also an expression of Abraham's profound love for Sarah.
"My soul shall live because of thee" — my soul feels
more alive, my spirit rises higher, my heart becomes more
tender because you are in my life. And I knew that Abraham's
expression captured for me the way a husband and wife should
feel about each other.
Abraham's expression in that story represents an ideal. President
Ezra Taft Benson once counseled that a "good yardstick"
for selecting a marital companion is "in her presence,
do you think your noblest thoughts, do you aspire to your
finest deeds, do you wish you were better than you are?"[2]. As I have thought about that, it seems to be good
counsel to apply in our marriage and family relationships.
In other words, am I creating an atmosphere so that in my
presence my wife or my husband feels more noble or aspires
to be better because of the love they feel from me? How do
others feel in my presence? It's a sobering question.
The White Handkerchief
There is a story
I love about daily affection in marriage that comes from the
life of one of our beloved Church leaders of the past, Elder
Hugh B. Brown. Hugh B. Brown served in the First Presidency,
as an Apostle, and in many other important church responsibilities
during his lifetime. And yet, it was perhaps his service to
his wife and hers to him that was most impressive about this
man. In his first address after being called to the Council
of Twelve Apostles, Elder Brown said: "I would be ungrateful
if I did not acknowledge that Zina Card Brown, my beloved
wife, is more responsible for my being here today than I."[3]
Theirs was a unique and compelling love story. Nearly all
couples develop their own signals, their own ways of communicating
the love that is theirs. Hugh B. Brown and Zina Card Brown
shared a white handkerchief.
Their daughter,
Mary Firmage, recounts:
How did Jonathan
choose? He chose Kitty. He chose Kalapaupa. He chose his own
death by leprosy. He chose love.
A professor once told me this story and then asked, "Would
you go to Kalapaupa?"
I have since visited that lonely site, where waves beat upon
the shore and a troubled history is framed by legacies of
love. I sat and thought of Jonathan and Kitty's story. Their
story is our story. Our decisions may not be so momentous.
And yet we choose. We choose to curb our tongue — or not.
We choose to stay with a sickly spouse — or not. We choose
to reserve some time just to talk — or not.
Jonathan Napela chose sacrificial love. Christ, in His commitment
to us, chose sacrificial love. Marriage requires sacrificial
love.
Hidden Gems of Love from Meridian’s Readers
Recently I encouraged
you to consider the power of stories that teach us about love,
and to share your own stories that "illuminate love and
what it can and should be." What a response! Many of
you sent me precious stories of lifelong love, stories that
reflected the love shared over a lifetime in marriage by grandparents,
parents, or yourselves. I hope you type out the stories you
have shared and send them to your family members at this time
of year. Let them also celebrate the love stories that have
blessed your family life.
As I read through
your many stories of love and commitment, I noticed that embedded
within many of them were particular moments that shone out
like hidden gems of love. These were moments that highlighted
love in action, love in its myriad beauties. Those hidden
gems are the stories I'd like to share today. Sit back and
enjoy.
"He
is Currently Deployed"
From Carolyn
Ricker
My husband is in
the Army. He is currently deployed. We keep in daily contact
through e-mails and phone calls and an occasional rare treat,
the video teleconference call. We go in to the briefing room
at the base, and he is there and we are there. We cannot hug
each other, but only share tears at the sight of each other's
much loved faces. He is looking great; I am a little frazzled
because I have brought the children with me. For ten minutes,
we talk carefully as the satellite cuts out if we talk at
once. The children get their turn and then I have mine. What
can we say when there is an observer in the room? Just that
we love each other. Ten minutes? That is all we are allotted.
Ten minutes? An eternity when you haven't seen each other
in three months…
During the time
up until he deployed, we took each day as if it would be our
last. Not one cross word was spoken, and we learned so much
about the language of love… spouse to spouse, parent to child,
one child to another. When he did leave, we all shed tears.
We know he will be back safe and sound, but the love and the
blessing that it brought to us is something that we don't
want to take for granted, and so we are continuing that legacy.
"The
Little Sacrifices"
From a female
reader, married 24 years
I want to tell you
of my wonderful husband who sacrifices all the time for his
family — some big sacrifices and some little. To me, the little
sacrifices are more telling of one's love — when they occur
regularly, as they do with my husband. This is because it
means he's thinking about me that much and that often.
I broke my leg skiing
when we were in college, and I was laid up for the first week
or so because of the pain. He took me miniature golfing in
a wheelchair and then wheeled me all the way home. I couldn't
believe I could have so much fun when I was in that much pain!
Then he got a terrible case of strep throat but still stayed
by my side when I got sick due to side-effects of the broken
leg, and he never complained.
"I Will Be There"
From
Debbie Kiss, married 19 years
I was head over
heels in love with Peter and had been dating him for a couple
of weeks when I knew how serious we were both feeling. I knew
there was something I had to talk to him about but was afraid
— would he leave me?
I have multiple
sclerosis and had been in and out of a wheelchair already
(I was diagnosed at 18). I was afraid that once he found out
I was "less than perfect" he would leave for someone
better. But we sat down together and I told him, knowing the
possibilities.
He turned to me,
held my hand and looked into my eyes as he said, "Deb,
if you are going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of your
life, I am going to be there to push it." I knew I could
never be with anyone else.
Since then I have
been in and out of wheelchairs and he has been there to carry
me and to push the chairs… We have suffered our share of hardships,
but we have done it all together and still look to our future
together. I love him more today than I did on the day I married
him, and the first thing I do when I wake up is say a prayer
of thanks to the Lord for my husband and my children.
"Until We Hear a Whistle"
From Dennis Martin
Years ago my wife
and accidentally worked out a solution to the problem of getting
separated in a store as I am accompanying her when shopping
(usually reluctantly). One of us will wander along, making
a very flat-sounding whistle, because that is the best we
can do, until we hear a whistle come back. That way, I am
more willing to venture into the scary unknowable world of
shopping. It is great because we have found that after 35
years of doing most things together, some of our favorite
things to do are to shop together in Mexico and in antique
stores. Our love for each other has thus grown stronger.
"Flip
a Love Sign"
From Jan Bird
Most of our children,
and my husband, know American Sign Language. I do not — except
for the "I Love You" sign. This simple sign has
been a sort of sign that we give to one another as somebody
leaves in their car. My husband and I "flip a love you
sign" as he leaves for work and meetings — even if we
know that we might not be able to see each other, we still
do it. It was interesting, when he has been in a bishopric,
to see the many ways he found to "flip a love sign"
to his family sitting in the congregation. One other “thing"
we do as a family, and as husband and wife, is to give a gentle
hand squeeze. Three squeezes = I love you. The person receiving
squeezes back twice = me too. Then the first person squeezes
back one time = ditto. As my health fails, due to MS, I have
begun to realize how very important those two "signs"
have become. As long as I can speak, and even after, we can
always trade signs.
"Just the
Honeymoon"
From Lisa Odaffer
When I was single
I used to work as a receptionist in the temple on Wednesday
nights. While there, I got to know certain regulars who came
at the same time every week. One favorite of all the sisters
on my shift was an average-looking, gray-haired gentleman
about seventy or seventy-five years old. He always made a
point to say hello to all the receptionists by name as he
came in. Later, he lingered at the front desk for ten or fifteen
minutes before he left, just visiting.
One night near closing
time I happened to be there when he stopped to talk. As a
way of making conversation, I commented on his fish tie —
the kind that looks like a whole fish hanging around your
neck. It was the sort of silly thing a teenager might wear.
It seemed a little out of place on a grandpa.
He grinned when
I asked him about it. He told me his wife bought it for him
because he loved to fish. That got him telling me about how
much he loved his wife. Apparently, in the last year or so,
she had taken pretty ill. She couldn't get out of bed by herself
anymore. He took over all of the cooking and cleaning. She
needed his help just to get dressed or go to the bathroom.
He read to her, played games, and kept her company for most
of the day.
He grinned and told
me after fifty years of letting her take care of him, spending
his days by her bedside was the least he could do to show
her how much he loved her. On Wednesday nights, someone from
the Relief Society came to sit with her while he slipped out
to the temple. Except for grocery shopping, he said it was
the only time he got out of the house all week.
Then he gave me
a cute, little old man kind of wink and said, "We're
just newlyweds, you know." Amused at my confusion, my
new friend explained, "We're married for time and all
eternity. So you see, fifty years is just the honeymoon."
With that, he winked at me again, said good night, and headed
on home to his sweetheart.
"Living Perfection"
From Richard and
Valoie Nelson
We are completing
our 29th year of marriage. Our bishop asked my husband to
teach a marriage class for the ward. Our class was filled
with newlyweds. One day he handed out paper to everyone (including
me). He asked us to write down the one thing that we wished
our spouse would change. We were to discuss it the next day
at Family Home Evening. I thought about this and quickly wrote
that I wished he would lose some weight. The next night I
handed him my paper and he handed me his. I fell in love with
him all over again when I read: "I don't want you to
change anything. You are perfect the way you are!"
"A Valentine's Day Gift"
From Emily Stallings
Years ago when I
worked at a hospital in the medical records department, I
was transcribing a surgical note one evening a day or two
before Valentine's Day. An 87-year old man had just been admitted
for surgery on his ankle after having slipped and fallen on
the ice. When asked why he was out so late in the evening,
he replied he had gone to the store to get his wife a Valentine
and had slipped on the pavement. All of us in medical records
were huddled around my computer screen, reading this sweet
old man's account of how he wanted to get his wife something
for Valentine's Day and ended up in the hospital for it. We
were all wondering if our own husbands would remember Valentine's
Day when they were 87 years old!
Love's Little Moments
I selected these
hidden gems among your stories because they represented so
well “love's little moments” — those experiences that reflect
the power and poignancy of genuine love and affection. They
represent what love can and should be. I think the magnificence
of love as reflected in the example of Jesus, our Savior,
can perhaps be seen most often in such little moments.
As we celebrate
Valentine's today, remind yourself to reach for the little
moments. While writing this column a few days ago I happened
to simultaneously be working on making a portion of one pint
of Ben and Jerry's Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice cream disappear
— my wife's favorite. I ate a bite. I read about love's little
moments. I ate another bite. I thought of my wife. I ate another
bite. A little moment — perhaps she would enjoy those last
seven or eight bites. The Ben and Jerry's is back in the freezer.
After all, it is going to be Valentine's Day.
Notes
[1] Bruce C. Hafen, A Disciple's Life:
The Biography of Neal A. Maxwell (Salt Lake, Deseret Book,
2002) pp. xiii-xiv
[2]Ezra Taft Benson("To the Single Adult Brethren
of the Church," Ensign, May 1988, p. 53
[3]An Abundant Life: The Memoirs of Hugh B. Brown,
1988, p. ix
[4]Church News, 26 October 1974, p. 5.
