My parents set a very good example to us children of their service in the Church. Mom was Spiritual Living teacher in the Relief Society and spent hours on her lesson each month getting them ready. She was also stake camp director one year. Dad was a stake missionary in the days before there were full-time missionaries in the Salt Lake Valley. Several nights a week he and his missionary companion, Jack Joyce, went out and met with people to share the Gospel with them.
When full-time missionaries finally were assigned to Salt Lake, it seemed they were very funny guys, or elders, I should say. We had never been around full-time missionaries that were currently on their missions. We had them to our house many times and they always had us in stitches with laughter. Vera and I had a saying that we often used when we were in a particularly jovial mood. “Let’s have Uncle Dave and the missionaries over and have a joke night.” It was also through the full-time missionaries that I persuaded Dad to teach me to shave. “You can’t expect me to go out and help the missionaries with this beard can you?” I said as I pointed to my peach fuzz.
No comments:
Post a Comment