Christmas at the Gas Station

Some stories are timeless and deserve to be read and re-read. This story I have read before but I always seem to appreciate the sweet message it gives. The story centers around an older man who had lost his wife (I can relate to his situation) and who owned a gas station. Not having any place to go on Christmas Eve he decided to spend it at his service station that's when all the adventure began. Enjoy!

Christmas at the gas Station:

The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn't been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. It was just another day to him. He didn't hate Christmas, just couldn't find a reason to celebrate. He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened and a homeless man stepped through.

Instead of throwing the man out, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come and sit by the heater and warm up. "Thank you, but I don't mean to intrude," said the stranger. "I see you're busy, I'll just go." "Not without something hot in your belly." George said.

He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. "It ain't much, but it's hot and tasty, "Stew ... made it myself. When you're done, there's hot chocolate and it's delicious."

Just at that moment he heard the "ding" of the driveway bell. "Excuse me, be right back," George said. There in the driveway was an old '53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked. "Mister can you help me!" said the driver, with a deep Spanish accent. "My wife is with child and my car is broken."

George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold, the car was dead. "You ain't going in this thing," George said as he turned away.
"But Mister, please help ..." The door of the office closed behind George as he went inside. He went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building, opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting. "Here, take my truck," he said. "She ain't the best thing you ever looked at, but she runs real good."

George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. He turned and walked back inside the office. "Glad I gave 'em the truck, their tires were shot too. That 'ol truck has brand new ........" George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty, with a used hot chocolate cup beside it. "Well, at least he got something in his belly," George thought.

George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the the block hadn't cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. "Well, shoot, I can fix this," he said to himself. So he put a new one on.

"Those tires ain't gonna get 'em through the winter either." He took the snow treads off of his wife's old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn't going to drive the car anyway.

As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, "Please help me."

George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. "Pressure to stop the bleeding," he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound. "Hey, they say duct tape can fix anythin'," he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease.

"Something for pain," George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. "These ought to work." He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. "You hang in there, I'm going to get you an ambulance."

The phone was dead. "Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car." He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two way radio.

He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. "Thanks," said the officer. "You could have left me there. The guy that shot me is still in the area."

George sat down beside him, "I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain't gonna leave you." George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. "Looks worse than what it is. Bullet passed right through 'ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time your gonna be right as rain."

George got up and poured a cup of hot chocolate. "Would you like some?" he asked. "None for me," said the officer. "Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain't got no donuts." The officer laughed and winced at the same time.

The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. "Give me all your cash! Do it now!" the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.

"That's the guy that shot me!" exclaimed the officer.

"Son, why are you doing this?" asked George, "You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt."

The young man was confused. "Shut up old man, or I'll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!"

The cop was reaching for his gun. "Put that thing away," George said to the cop, "we got one too many in here now."

He turned his attention to the young man. "Son, it's Christmas Eve. If you need money, well then, here. It ain't much but it's all I got. Now put that pee shooter away."

George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time. The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. "I'm not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son," he went on. "I've lost my job, my rent is due, my car got repossessed last week ..."

George handed the gun to the cop. Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can."

He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. "Sometimes we do stupid things." George handed the young man a cup of hot chocolate. "Bein' stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin' in here with a gun ain't the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we'll sort this thing out."

The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. "Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I'm sorry officer."

"Shut up and drink your chocolate." the cop said.

George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn. "Chuck! You ok?" one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

"Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?"

"GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?" the other cop asked as he approached the young man.

Chuck answered him, "I don't know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran."

George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other.

"That guy work here?," the wounded cop continued. "Yep," George said, "just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job."

The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, "Why?"

Chuck just said, "Merry Christmas boy ... and you too, George, and thanks for everything."

"Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems."

George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. "Here you go, something for the little woman. I don't think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day."

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. "I can't take this," said the young man. "It means something to you."

"And now it means something to you," replied George. "I got my memories. That's all I need."

George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. "Here's something for that little man of yours."

The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier.

"And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too," George said, "Now git home to your family."

The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. "I'll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good."

"Nope. I'm closed Christmas day," George said. "See ya the day after."

George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. "Where'd you come from? I thought you left?"

"I have been here. I have always been here," said the stranger. "You say you don't celebrate Christmas. Why?"

"Well, after my wife passed away, I just couldn't see what all the bother was. Puttin' up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin' cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn't the same by myself and besides I was gettin' a little chubby."

The stranger put his hand on George's shoulder. "But you do celebrate the holiday, George.

You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry.
The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor.
The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself.

"That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man."
George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. "And how do you know all this?" asked the old man.

"Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again." The stranger moved toward the door. "If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now. I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned."

George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing turned into a white robe. A golden light began to fill the room.

"You see, George ... it's My birthday. Merry Christmas."

George fell to his knees and replied, "Happy Birthday, Lord."


> ~ author unknown ~

Life's perspective

Prologue: This year 2009 my dear wife passed away. It was a time of sorrow and grief. As I struggled to find peace in the midst of sadness, I remembered something I read once that put the world and its trials, afflictions and unhappiness into perspective. In case you need to adjust your attitude towards similar type of situations, I share the following:

Are you grieving or do you have a grievance?

Grievance: A cause of distress felt to afford reason for complaint or resistance.

Grief: An emotional suffering caused by an event.

fair: Sometimes things occur in our lives and we want to call out to the world, “It is not fair! Life is not fair!” Well, is life fair? Events occur on a daily basis and though we may feel that things are out of our control, they are not. It is not to say that when these ordeals take place that we will not experience pain, anger, depression or any such emotion. Emotions are our body’s natural way of telling us something is wrong but they also are there to tell us when things are going right. If you are experiencing negative feeling, there is nothing wrong with that. It is when we relinquish control of ourselves to that negative attitude that we lose power of what is going to happen. You, and you alone, are the one who decides how things will affect you.

Power: Everyone needs to grieve. It is a healing power, but recognize that grieving should be a temporary means until we are able to move forward. If you still feel you are grieving after such a time then your grieving has turned into a grievance and you have permitted a new persona of self-pity. You have become a victim and allow this new victim-hood to dictate your life. This feeling becomes a burden upon our shoulders. Grievances are never dealt with and therefore every time you have one it is placed in a “bag” upon your back and left there to weigh you down. Each new grievance is placed on top of another until your bag is overfilled and your unable to live a enjoyable life. You need to stop living your life sitting in….well… your poo. The following five suggestions, if you decide to let them license your life, will help you lift yourself out of the self-pity and lead a happy and gratifying life.

1. Depersonalize: First you must depersonalize. Do not allow any misgivings to become personal daggers to your heart. If you personalize, that grievance owns you. You have relinquished control to that emotion and it will drag you down.

2. Snakes: Second you must stop chasing the “snakes”. If we are constantly looking the snakes to appear in our lives than we miss out on the good things are occurring in the now. We continually know that things our going to be bad and dwell in a state of unhappiness. We always ask ourselves the “what if’s”. What if this happens or what if they do this. We need not to look for those what if’s or snakes, just live in the present and see all of the good happenings in our lives. We can be so focused on the things that are going wrong that we completely miss all of the good things occurring daily in our lives.

3. Victim or agent: You must decide if you are either a victim or an agent.

Victim Phrases: I can’t, why or always me. We look at things in the negative and feel that everything is happening to us rather than we are making this happen.
Agent Phrases: I can choose, why not or I can. When we are agents we are the ones in control of what is happening or will occur. We may not be able to control others or elements of the world but we can become agents of ourselves and choose how we will handle it.

4. Re-Script: You must Re-Script your life. You can choose how life is going to go from here. Again we cannot control outer elements but we can decide on a script that we want and make it happen. No one else can make the script work but you. If you are seeking happiness from without of yourself, you have the wrong the script. Happiness actually starts within and then goes out. Our power to do so is in how we respond, not react, to these things. This in turn will affect how things will turn out.

5. Introspect: Live life in introspect. You must live your life as if you are above everything. I don’t mean egotistically but literally as if you are looking at everything from above. Act as if you are watching the events, the conversations, the good and the bad from a higher sense of self. When you are able to watch these events from above you are able to look at all perspectives. You also do not allow yourself to get caught up in the situation. You are able to watch from above and see everything for what it really is and not take anything personal or let anything affect you negatively.


Extra: Sometimes in life as we are incessantly looking for the snake in life we may actually be bitten by a snake. Instead of stopping and dealing with our wound and allowing the time needed to heal we either run after or away from the snake. As we do this the wound never heals and again our sack is heavy laden. Live in introspect: be above everything. It all begins with how we are thinking.

Orient your life:

Don’t expect. Live in the moment. Swallow the truth and your false pride.
Be humble and teachable. We won’t really change until our hearts are really touched and ready to change. For me, I get up in the morning and commit myself to having a happy day. A healthy attitude will paint your life and environment in a brilliant
array of colors glorious to behold and wonderful to experience. My dear friends have a great day!!

Allegory of the Quilt

As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt before the Lord along with all the other souls. Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles; an angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life.

But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in every day life. I saw hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.

I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened.

My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air.

Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose; each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise.

My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness, and wealth, and false accusations that took from me my world, as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully, each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me.

And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it was. I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light. An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with wide eyes.

Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in His eyes. He said, 'Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles.

Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you.' May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through!

Humpback whales playing in the ocean

Off of Portland Island near Auke Bay Alaska, an amateur video was taken of some humpback whales. This happened on July 3, 2009. Take a look:

Inyokern Airport

My family and I live is in a desert community called Ridgecrest, California. Ten miles to the West of Ridgecrest is a desert airport called Inyokern. From there each year, the city has hosted everything from balloon races to drag races as well as serving the community with air transportation.

Well, in this video clip narrated by James May of Top Gear you will see yet another use for the airport by some automotive (Ken Block) and motorcycle (Ricky Caramichael) thrill seekers. Enjoy!

The Housten Temple Construction

A few months after my accident, I got a call from a headhunter telling me that he had a position for which he wanted me to interview. I was a little surprised by the call since I wasn't actively looking for a job at the time. As a matter of fact, I was still learning to walk again and use my reconstructed hands. I politely declined and thought that was it.

It wasn't.

The man called again and every time I told him why I was unable to accept a job at the moment, he kept telling me that it wasn't important. After a while I decided to go on the interview. I f nothing else, it would stop the annoying phone calls every few days.

The interview was with one of the largest HVAC contractors in Houston. I've never worked for a contractor before and, quite frankly, contractors and engineers often find themselves at complete odds with each other. I knew for a fact that, in my years of experience, I had been in more than one shouting match with a few project managers at this firm.

The interviewer brought me into a conference room and expressed his thanks for me coming in. He told me that I had come recommended to him as someone uniquely qualified for the job he had. He described the job and, I had to admit, it sounded like a pretty good gig. As a matter of fact, if I had to describe my dream job, this would be it.

I started asking questions about the firm... what kind of projects they were working on and so forth. They were one of the biggest contractors in Houston and so he ran down a pretty impressive resume of projects. Then he said, "Oh... and we're doing this church. It's the strangest church you've ever seen." I'd designed some pretty strange churches in my time. One of them was made entirely of pink glass. When you're especially bored some time, you should try and run down the thermal transfer properties of pink glass. If you find out, get back to me on it because I never was able to figure it out.

The interviewer continued with his description of the strange church. "Another weird thing is that they're spending WAYYYY too much money on this thing. You know how, whenever we do a church, we're asked to figure out ways to cut costs? Well, not on this job. In fact, they keep asking us for ways we can make it even better"

(It's called 'value engineering'. It happens on almost every job when the owner gets hit with the sticker price of the project and we have to go back and try and work with contractors to hold down prices and yet still keep in a modicum of quality... that's where the shouting matches usually occur. Churches are especially notorious at this game and the end result is usually a facade of flash over substance. You build this really impressive-looking church and pray that the next big wind won't come along and blow it all down).

Then the interviewer said something that sealed the deal. "...and the strangest thing of all is that we're not going to even be allowed back in this church to fix any problems. Only members with a special piece of paper will be allowed in."

I fished into my wallet and pulled out my temple recommend, "Is this the piece of paper you're talking about?" I asked.

And so I went to work on helping to build the Houston Temple.

The first job meeting was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life. We all met in a little shack on the temple building site. It was an odd sensation to look out at earth moving equipment shoving mounds of dirt around and get tears in your eyes.

I didn't tell anyone at the meeting that I was LDS. For one reason, I didn't want them to think I was going to come off as a know-it-all. Another reason is that there were some pretty strong protests against building this temple and I wanted to see where everyone stood on the issue. You kind of want to know where all the land mines are before you go traipsing off into the clover.

You may or may not know this but the church sends its own project manager to the site when a temple is built. It's his job to make sure that the specifications are followed in every way. As it happened, the church's representative, a man named Leon, was called away to Salt Lake and so the project manager for the general contractor got up and started the meeting.

"Leon's been called away to Salt Lake and so I'll be running the meeting." He looked around and his eye settled on the Plumbing Contractor, "Gill, why don't you offer us an opening prayer?"

My jaw dropped. First of all, prayers just aren't the standard way that construction meetings are called to order. And another thing is that, I'd known Gill for fifteen years and anyone even mildly acquainted with the man was aware that he was incapable of stringing four words together without cussing twice.

"This is going to be some prayer," I thought... it was. Gill bowed his head and folded his hands and gave a prayer like he'd been giving them in sacrament meeting his entire life. We were grateful for the opportunity to work on the temple. We were mindful of the sacrifices of The Saints. We prayed for safety and harmony among the builders and we consecrated and dedicated our actions to The Lord.

Gill ended his prayer and the General Contractor went on with the agenda. I wasn't really paying attention, however, because I was still dumbstruck, staring at Gill, and wondering what had happened to him. I was still staring at Gill when the agenda came to me and I was asked to introduce myself to the group.

There was a bit of a pause when I got caught still staring, openmouthed, at Gill. Then everyone started to laugh.

"It's in the specifications," explained the general contractor, "we have to pray before every meeting"

Knowing the crowd, I asked, "And none of you tried to negotiate out of that?"

"Well, we did grumble for a while and then Leon started making us sing an opening hymn as well"

I wished I had accepted the job sooner, I might have been able to see that.

I soon found out that I didn't need to tell anyone I was LDS, they all knew and many times a contractor would sidle up to me to ask me something about my religion or the significance of something in the temple.

"What's up with the twelve cows and the big Jacuzzi?" one would ask.

"Is that Gabriel up there with a trumpet?" (Oh... little known fact but if you'll take a pair of binoculars with you and get far enough away so you can see it from the proper angle, you'll notice a lightning rod sticking out of Moroni's head)

I took to bringing my scriptures with me so that I could explain the significance of different things and point to their Biblical foundation.

One question was my personal favorite, "Where's the counting room?" Remember the churches I told you about that I'd designed? Well one thing that never got 'value engineered' was the counting room. It was where they kept and counted the donations and it was always built like a bank vault.

"We don't have a counting room in temples", I said.

"Why not?"

"We don't take in any donations at the temple"

"You mean to tell me that you put all this money into a building and you don't ever get a nickel out of it?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much the case"

The contractor went away shaking his head. No doubt wondering how anyone as foolish as these Mormons had ever amassed enough money to build such wonderful buildings.

Of all my experiences, only one was what I would have categorized as 'odd'. With an opening prayer at each meeting, design conferences went about pretty much like PEC meetings. There was a spirit of brotherhood that just wasn't normally present in construction shacks.

One day, however, the meeting got a little out of hand. Some voices were raised and anger entered the room. When it made its appearance, I was surprised to notice a letdown that I recognized as The Spirit leaving the room. It made me sad. I looked about the table and I could tell that others were experiencing the same letdown.

It was then that the copier behind me started spitting out blank sheets of paper. Nobody was at the copier and yet it churned out about a dozen sheets of paper and then stopped. It took everyone by surprise and it completely diffused the argument that was going on. Someone made a small joke, everyone laughed and the meeting went on. Little by little I felt the warmth of The Spirit return.

After the meeting, I was going over some items with the General Contractor. I had to make a few copies and so I went to the copier. There was a sign over the copier instructing the sub-contractors to write down the number of copies they make so that their companies can be back charged. Thinking that I was making a joke, I pointed to the sign and said, "Are you going to give the angels a discount on the copies they made today?" The general contractor looked at me and said, "You know? Strange things like that happen around here quite often"

As the temple neared its completion, the general contractor and I had occasion to chat one more time. I knew that he was a staunch Baptist, one of the churches in fact that was so vocal in its protest over our building a temple in Houston. Over the months, we had become friends, and so I felt no qualms in asking him just what his feelings were, as a Baptist, building a Mormon temple. I'll never forget what he told me.

"In ancient times", he said, "building work was overseen by guilds. The guild masters were the ones who saw to it that the integrity of the craft over which they labored was the best it could be. If you wanted to enter the guild you had to begin as an apprentice and dedicate long years with little or no pay. The master under whom you labored, gave you room and board and your tools. Eventually, you became a journeyman in the guild and you got paid. However, if you wanted to become a master of the guild, you had to present a sample of your work to be judged by the other masters. It had to be a work of outstanding beauty and flawless quality for it was the work by which your skills would be judged. It had to be a work that would weather the ages and it was called, 'a masterpiece'"

The contractor continued, "Every building I've ever built has been one where money won out over quality. I've never been able to do the best I'm capable of because of budget restraints. If I'm grateful for one thing, it's that you Mormons don't skimp when it comes to your temples. For once, I'm able to build to the quality I'm really capable of"

Then he looked out over the temple and his gaze came back to me. His eyes were tearing up a bit and he swept his hand back towards the temple and his voice got a little reverent, "This is my masterpiece," he said.

I've been building buildings for almost thirty years. I've been doing it so long, in fact, that they are beginning to tear down buildings that I was sure would live as a testament to my presence long after I was gone from this earth.

I'm really grateful I had a chance to work on The Houston Temple.

name withheld

How to Dance in the Rain

It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's arrived at the hospital to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am. I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's Disease. As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late.

He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now. I was surprised, and asked him, 'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?'

He smiled As he patted my hand and said, ‘She doesn't know me, But I still know who she is.' I had to hold back tears as he left. I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, 'That is the kind of love I want in my life.'

True love is neither Physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.


'Life isn't about how to survive the storm, But how to dance in the rain.’

Christopher Jason's language

I have a grandson named Christopher Jason who is quite a talker. He is 16 months old and although he uses words I don't understand, he tells me things in his language. He does call our dog Titus by his name when he wants him to come to him. Otherwise it is non-stop talking in a foreign language.

When I saw this video and the little girl talking to her father in the car, I was impressed. Hope you enjoy the little video clip:

Power of a Father's Prayer

John Henry Smith was preserved by his Father’s Prayer. The story begins when John was born in 1848 in Carbunca, Iowa, near Council Bluffs, the son of George A. Smith and Sarah Ann Libby. His father was an apostle and counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to Brigham Young. John Henry was ordained an apostle in 1880 by Wilford Woodruff and later served as second counselor to President Joseph F. Smith. One of his sons, George Albert, also held the office of apostle and eventually president of the Church.

In 1946, Pres. George Albert Smith shared this family experience about his father at a conference in Provo, Utah. The events of the story took place on June 8, 1862, when John Henry was 13 years old. The water in the Provo River was particularly high and turbulent that year:

I am standing on what to me is sacred ground. My grandparents and my parents and many other relatives lived here in Provo, and some still live here. My father [John Henry], as a young man, came near losing his life in the Provo River, not far from where we are now. His father [George A.], who was in Salt Lake City, felt impressed to go into a room that had been set apart for prayer. He clothed himself in temple robes, knelt down at the altar, and said: “Heavenly Father, I feel that there is something seriously wrong with my family in Provo. Thou knowest that I cannot be with them there and be here. Heavenly Father, wilt thou preserve and safeguard them, and I will be grateful to thee and honor thee.”

At the time when he was praying, just as near as it was possible to indicate by checking the time, my father had fallen into the river. It was at flood time. Logs and rocks were pouring down from the canyon, and he was helpless. Those who were near saw his predicament, but they could not reach him. The turbulence of the water was such that nobody could live in it. They just stood there in horror. Father was doing everything he could to keep his head above water, but he was being thrown up and down and being dashed against the rocks and logs. All at once a wave lifted him bodily from the water and threw him upon the shore. It was a direct answer of the prayer of a servant of the Lord.(George Albert Smith, Sharing the Gospel, pp. 216-217)

John Henry Smith died October 13, 1911, at Salt Lake City, Utah at the age 63.
(See also Jenson, LDS Biographical Encyclopedia 1:141; and _Encyclopedia of Mormonism_, s.v. “Smith, George Albert” and “Smith, John Henry”)

David Kenison

"To Celebrate Growing Older"

This article was written by Regina Brett The Plain Dealer, Cleveland, Ohio. To celebrate growing older, She once wrote the 45 lessons life taught her. She claims that it is the most-requested column she has ever written. When her odometer rolled over to 50(i.e. she turned 50 years old), she decided to update the list. She has 50 lessons coincidently. Here's her update:

1. Life isn't fair, but it's still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Don't take yourself so seriously. No one else does.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don't have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It's more healing than crying alone.
8. It's OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. When it comes to chocolate, resistance is futile.
11. Make peace with your past so it won't screw up the present.
12. It's OK to let your children see you cry.
13. Don't compare your life to others'. You have no idea what their journey is all about.
14. If a relationship has to be a secret, you shouldn't be in it.
15. Everything can change in the blink of an eye. But don't worry; God never blinks.
16. Life is too short for long pity parties. Get busy living, or get busy dying.
17. You can get through anything if you stay put in today.
18. A writer writes. If you want to be a writer, write.
19. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. But the second one is up to you and no one else.
20. When it comes to going after what you love in life, don't take no for an answer.
21. Burn the candles, use the nice sheets, wear the fancy lingerie. Don't save it for a special occasion. Today is special.
22. Over prepare, then go with the flow.
23. Be eccentric now. Don't wait for old age to wear purple.
24. The most important sex organ is the brain.
25. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.
26. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: "In five years, will this matter?"
27. Always choose life.
28. Forgive everyone everything.
29. What other people think of you is none of your business.
30. Time heals almost everything. Give time....time.
31. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.
32. Your job won't take care of you when you are sick. Your friends will. Stay in touch.
33. Believe in miracles.
34. God loves you because of who God is, not because of anything you did or didn't do.
35. Whatever doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
36. Growing old beats the alternative -- dying young.
37. Your children get only one childhood. Make it memorable.
38. Read the Psalms. They cover every human emotion.
39. Get outside every day. Miracles are waiting everywhere.
40. If we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours back.
41. Don't audit life. Show up and make the most of it now.
42. Get rid of anything that isn't useful, beautiful or joyful.
43. All that truly matters in the end is that you loved.
44. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.
45. The best is yet to come.
46. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.
47. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.
48. If you don't ask, you don't get.
49. Yield.
50. Life isn't tied with a bow, but it's still a gift.