Dear Friends,
This post looks really long, but don't be alarmed; they're not all my words! In light of our upcoming General Conference, I thought it
would be wonderful to share a story President Monson told in last October's conference. See how
one family worked hard to live providently, and what they learned in the
process. (To watch or listen to this story, or for the whole talk, go here).
President Monson said:
"I share with you an account of one family which was
able to find blessings in the midst of serious challenges. This is an account I
read many years ago and have kept because of the message it conveys. It was
written by Gordon Green and appeared in an American magazine over 50 years ago.
"Gordon tells how he grew up on a farm in Canada, where
he and his siblings had to hurry home from school while the other children
played ball and went swimming. Their father, however, had the capacity to help
them understand that their work amounted to something. This was especially true
after harvesttime when the family celebrated Thanksgiving, for on that day
their father gave them a great gift. He took an inventory of everything they
had.
"On Thanksgiving morning he would take them to the
cellar with its barrels of apples, bins of beets, carrots packed in sand, and
mountains of sacked potatoes as well as peas, corn, string beans, jellies,
strawberries, and other preserves which filled their shelves. He had the
children count everything carefully. Then they went out to the barn and figured
how many tons of hay there were and how many bushels of grain in the granary.
They counted the cows, pigs, chickens, turkeys, and geese. Their father said he
wanted to see how they stood, but they knew he really wanted them to realize on
that feast day how richly God had blessed them and had smiled upon all their
hours of work. Finally, when they sat down to the feast their mother had
prepared, the blessings were something they felt.
"Gordon indicated, however, that the Thanksgiving he
remembered most thankfully was the year they seemed to have nothing for which
to be grateful.
"The year started off well: they had leftover hay, lots
of seed, four litters of pigs, and their father had a little money set aside so
that someday he could afford to buy a hay loader—a wonderful machine most
farmers just dreamed of owning. It was also the year that electricity came to
their town—although not to them because they couldn’t afford it.
"One night when Gordon’s mother was doing her big wash,
his father stepped in and took his turn over the washboard and asked his wife
to rest and do her knitting. He said, 'You spend more time doing the wash than
sleeping. Do you think we should break down and get electricity?' Although
elated at the prospect, she shed a tear or two as she thought of the hay loader
that wouldn’t be bought.
"So the electrical line went up their lane that year.
Although it was nothing fancy, they acquired a washing machine that worked all
day by itself and brilliant lightbulbs that dangled from each ceiling. There
were no more lamps to fill with oil, no more wicks to cut, no more sooty
chimneys to wash. The lamps went quietly off to the attic.
"The coming of electricity to their farm was almost the
last good thing that happened to them that year. Just as their crops were
starting to come through the ground, the rains started. When the water finally
receded, there wasn’t a plant left anywhere. They planted again, but more rains
beat the crops into the earth. Their potatoes rotted in the mud. They sold a
couple of cows and all the pigs and other livestock they had intended to keep,
getting very low prices for them because everybody else had to do the same
thing. All they harvested that year was a patch of turnips which had somehow
weathered the storms.
"Then it was Thanksgiving again. Their mother said,
'Maybe we’d better forget it this year. We haven’t even got a goose left.'
"On Thanksgiving morning, however, Gordon’s father
showed up with a jackrabbit and asked his wife to cook it. Grudgingly she
started the job, indicating it would take a long time to cook that tough old
thing. When it was finally on the table with some of the turnips that had
survived, the children refused to eat. Gordon’s mother cried, and then his
father did a strange thing. He went up to the attic, got an oil lamp, took it
back to the table, and lighted it. He told the children to turn out the
electric lights. When there was only the lamp again, they could hardly believe
that it had been that dark before. They wondered how they had ever seen
anything without the bright lights made possible by electricity.
"The food was blessed, and everyone ate. When dinner
was over, they all sat quietly. Wrote Gordon:
“'In the humble dimness of the old lamp we were beginning to
see clearly again. …
“'It [was] a lovely meal. The jack rabbit tasted like turkey
and the turnips were the mildest we could recall. …
"'… [Our] home … , for all its want, was so rich [to]
us.'" (Adapted from H. Gordon
Green, “The Thanksgiving I Don’t Forget,” Reader’s Digest, Nov. 1956, 69–71.)
I (we're back to me, Laura) see several provident living principles in this story. The
family worked hard to provide for themselves temporally; they lived within
their means, so when they paid for one luxury (electricity) they sacrificed another (the hay baler); and they
planned ahead and did their best to prepare for the future.
But, wait--shouldn't I be sharing a story about how a
family's provident living led them to have an overabundance of food during a
disastrous year? Shouldn't I motivate you to live providently by demonstrating
that people's self-sufficiency and wisdom guarantee that they won't suffer or
go hungry? Shouldn't I be showing you that preparation allows us to ride out
the storms of life, sheltered by the protections we've built around ourselves
by our diligence? Do I have a dire lack of marketing skills?
Brothers and sisters, when we work hard to provide for
ourselves in temporal matters, the Lord will sustain us, but He will bless us
with far more beautiful things than just temporal security. I promise that if
you are wise, all your temporal needs will be met, but even greater blessings
await you. The family from President Monson's story learned a wonderful lesson:
Although we may do everything in our power, all our blessings ultimately come from God,
and He will give us what we need. Even when it seems He has given us little, we
have much more than we realize. Some years God will bless you with a full pantry, other years He will bless you
with clarity and light. Whatever He sends, it is a blessing for your work and obedience, and it is what you need.
"And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness. O remember, remember that these things are true; for the Lord God hath spoken it" (Mosiah 2:41).
I love you and He loves you, and we want you to receive those blessings!
Sincerely,
Laura
