THE BOARDWALK OF LIFE

"STAND UP, YOUR FATHER'S PASSIN!"

He is a young man, just turned 15, whose mother was a drug addict, and whose father hasbeen serving time in the local penitentiary since his birth. As a baby, he waslooked after by his grandmother, then moved from foster home to foster hometill a couple adopted him.  However, this couple could not hold theirmarriage and family together, so he now resides with yet another couple. Over the course of the year, I have asked him about his family. I can’tkeep track of who is his blood brother, half-brother, adopted brother, or justa brother of another boy who is living in his home. I spent some time talkingto him. Somehow, the conversation ended up being about families. He told me henever wants children. I told him he would probably change his mind as he gotolder. He looked at me and said emphatically, “No, I won’t. I would be aterrible father. I don’t want my kids growing up without me in their lives.They will hate me because I won’t be able to take care of them. I don’t wantthem to have the feelings I have towards my father. He was in prison when I wasborn. I don’t even know who he is!” I don’t think I have heard such pessimistictalk regarding fatherhood from such a young man. It was sad to hear him talkthat way, yet his life experience had taught him to have such a negativeoutlook on fatherhood. Unfortunately, this young man’s negative experience is nowbecoming the norm. Today, close to fifty percent of U.S. babies are born out ofwedlock. Many single women are choosing to rear their children alone. Iremember when I was a child, I only remember one friend who came from what theytermed “a broken home.” The consequences of the “me” generation are now comingfull swing. Marriage and, particularly, the role of the father, have beenmarginalized, leaving behind the broken lives of those who have listened to theSiren calls of the world. In contrast, we have been taught the sanctity of marriage andthe family unit. I was reminded of better times, when the role of the fatherwas respected, when, while searching for something on TV, I came across themovie, “To Kill A Mockingbird.”  There has always been one scene in thismovie that has stuck with me. Atticus Finch, (Gregory Peck), has justrepresented a black man, unjustly accused of rape. Although it is clear thatthe black man is innocent, he is convicted. The lower level of the courtroom,full of white people, files out after the verdict is read. Satisfied! AsAtticus Finch gathers his papers together, the black people stand up silentlyand stay in the gallery till he walks out of the courthouse. Atticus’s daughteris among them and is squatting down on the floor watching her father. As heleaves, an older black man says to her, ” Miss Jean Louise. Miss Jean Louise,stand up. Your father’s passin’.” The daughter rises as her father walks out ofthe courtroom. Every time I see that scene I am grateful to have had a fatherthat gained my respect and admiration so that “I stood up” when he was passing.It is sad to see the role of fathers be so minimized, leading to the pessimismdemonstrated by this young man, of whom I have spoken. To resolve most ofsociety’s problems, we need to look no further than the strengthening of thefamily. May we honor the role of father and of mother! May we keep ourmarriages strong, love one another,  and be patient with one another’sfaults. As we honor each other in our godly roles, we will be teaching ourchildren to do the same, and they will desire to have stable homes of their own.

A LESSON ABOUT HEAVEN AND HELL FROM THE TWILIGHT ZONE

As I grew up in the 1960’s and 70’s the emergence of television, with its powerful mediumof communication, was just starting to exercise its influence on the culture of our country.  One show from my childhood that I vividly remember was“The Twilight Zone.”  You wouldn’t think that a TV show couldhave spiritual undertones, but several episodes that stayed in my mind are those that later tied into gospel themes. One such episode told the story of a petty thief who had lived alife of crime. The opening scene showed him robbing someone and then being shotas he tried to escape. He then died in the street. The next scene showed him inthe afterlife as a “guardian angel” attended to his every need. The thief wasso excited because everything he did in his new life turned out wonderful.It showed him gambling on the tables. He won every time. He bet on the horses;every horse he bet on won. He played pool, took one shot and every ball wentinto the pockets. At the request of his “angel” he asked for and receivedbeautiful women on his arms. He was given everything he wanted to eat. Thethief couldn’t understand how he could end up in such a great place. Hequestioned the angel about it seeing as he didn’t recall doing anythinggood in his life.  The angel took out a file on him, kind of like“The Book of Life” mentioned in the scriptures.  Everything the angel readwas negative.  His “book of life”  was full of the bad things that hehad done. The thief scratched his head and wondered how he had ended up inheaven. But, he didn’t care. He just smiled and went on living the “high life”,but after a while this new life became boring and irritating tothe thief.  His temper started to rise and he became angry at the“guardian angel”. He complained in an angry voice to the angel: “It isn’t fun to win every time at everything; nor to haveanything I want at my whim”. He then continued: “I think a mistake has been made. I don’t know how I endedup in such a great place. I don’t much like it here.  I think I should bein the other place. You know where I mean!”  The angel gave him adevious look and said: “I don’t think you understand. You ARE in that place!”It was then revealed that the “supposed” angel was really the devil. Theepisode ended with the resounding laugh of the devil in the background as thecamera panned to the horrified look on the face of the thief. “For it must needs be, that there is an opposition in allthings. If not so… righteousness could not be brought to pass, neitherwickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad. Wherefore, allthings must needs be a compound in one; wherefore, if it should be one body itmust needs remain as dead, having no life neither death, nor corruption norincorruption, happiness nor misery, neither sense nor insensibility…And tobring about his eternal purposes in the end of man, after he had created ourfirst parents… it must needs be that there was an opposition; even theforbidden fruit in opposition to the tree of life; the one being sweet and theother bitter. (2 Nephi 2:11, 15). And so, when the rains descend upon us or during thestormy times of life, remember, opposition is needed and is eternal.Without it, we could not know the good as there would be no evil. Like thethief from “The Twilight Zone” episode, we would soon tire of the sunshinebecause we wouldn’t know that rain existed!

A SUBSTITUTE FOR CHARACTER

It happened many years ago, yet it is still fresh in my conscience, and from timeto time it appears on the “stage” of my mind. It happened on an otherwiseinnocuous day during high school. It was the fifth-period English class, and wehad a substitute for the day. You know how “well” those classes end up going.No one listens; no one cares. The poor teacher is subject to all kinds ofabuse! This class was no exception. The woman substitute teacher was trying herbest to maintain order, but as soon as she turned her back to write on theboard, a student would throw something at another student, or, even worse,knock over one of the empty desks. It would make a loud crashing noise as ithit the floor. The teacher would quickly turn around but was never quick enoughto catch the perpetrator. Finally, with her voice raised in frustration andanger, she said, “The next person who knocks over a desk is going to be thrownout of class and will report to the principal’s office! She turned and started writing on the chalkboard. In the rownext to me were a couple of students, an empty desk, then another studentappeared to be sleeping, then a few more students. I watched as a friend ofmine, who was seated behind the sleeping student, stretched his foot out as faras he could, around the sleeper, and pushed the empty desk over. As the deskbegan to fall, he quickly got back into his seat. The desk crashed to thefloor. The sound of the crash awoke the student who was sleeping, so that whenthe teacher turned around, the once slumbering classmate had his head up. Theteacher erupted in anger and started to shout at the innocent kid. The studenttried to defend himself and stated his innocence, but the teacher was sofrazzled by then that she was in no mood for explanations. She told him toleave the class and report to the principal’s office. He stormed out of theroom, pleading his innocence. It seemed that the joke was on the teacher!Still, I sat there…. and so did everyone else. No one came to his defense.Perhaps he had no friends in the class, I don’t know. I just know that afterthe moment passed, and I did nothing, it became less funny. And so it is, some40 years later, that I still remember the incident. The memory doesn’t reflectwell on my character. I wasn’t “standing tall” that day. Whenever I hear the words “stand tall,” I think of Gordon B.Hinckley, who said: “Stand a little taller and work a little harder and value alittle greater the marvelous blessing which you have….You and I are sons anddaughters of God, with something of divinity within us. Let us grow in faithand faithfulness before the world. (Gordon B. Hinckley, “InspirationalThoughts,” Liahona, Apr 2002). To the youth, he once said: “Stand tall, do what is right, count on the Lord, and He willbless you in a wonderful way.” What was the cost of a false accusation? I don’t know the answerfor the innocent classmate of mine, but I can imagine. I’ve been falselyaccused of things in my life. Not only does it sting, but it stays with you forlife.  For me, that event holds for me a memory of a moment in my lifewhen I lacked the courage to stand up for the right. Those kinds of memoriesare not precious in my mind. Sometimes we are caught off guard and wish we hadthe quickness of mind to react differently. And perhaps, I was just being anormal kid in sitting in silence. But why does that experience stay with me. Ithink it is because I know that I allowed my character to be “substituted” thatday with something called “fear of man.” If I examine my life, I know I haveallowed pear pressure, even as an adult to influence my life in ways I am notproud of.  I would hope that as adults,we have overcome our fear of others and the ‘peer pressure’ we felt as youth.But alas, the natural man is hard to overcome. It is a constant battle tocourageously “stand tall” and do the right thig.  But it’s a battle worth waging!

THE BOARDWALK OF LIFE

It was June 1978, and my wife and I had only been married for two days. We were on our Honeymoon in Ocean City, Maryland. If you have been there, you know that the boardwalk holds all kinds of attractions and houses a carnival-like atmosphere in places. As my wife and I strolled down the boardwalk, I spied a booth that we all are familiar with. It’s probably the most straightforward game on the boardwalk. A carnival worker stacks three milk bottles or more in a pyramid, hands you a softball, and you cash in on your best Nolan Ryan impression, right? It’s not usually that simple. Bottles stacked on the bottom are often filled with lead weight, and the softball you’re given emphasizes soft—they may be filled with cork to make them lighter. But even with the odds stacked against me, I wanted to impress her with my athletic abilities and win her a big stuffed animal that she could forever cherish. And besides, baseball was my game, and I had been bragging to her how good I had been in High School and college. I didn’t disappoint! Even I was amazed at how well I did. I kept putting down my money and knocking over the milk bottles repeatedly. I was a superstar and loved showing off to her. After I had won a number of times, I motioned to the Carnie that I was done and wanted my winnings. Much to my surprise he put down in front of me, painstakingly so, my prizes. First, a little green plastic army man. Then, a tiny glass horse, a rabbit’s foot, and last, a tiny plastic farm animal. I think it was a cow if I remember correctly. I was dumbstruck and started to get angry. The booth worker never smiled or seemed the least bit uneasy giving me my expensive and hard-earned “prizes!” I gotta say, I started to lose it. But then something wonderful happened. My new wife of two days started to snicker as each “prize” was presented. Then she began to laugh, and soon she was hysterically laughing beside me, holding onto my arm and practically falling down. I snatched my winnings off the counter as she laughingly pulled me away from the booth. We both laughed all the way down the boardwalk as only a young newly married couple can do. I brought this incident up to my wife of forty-five years the other night, and before I got very far into the story, she burst out laughing, and we both got a great “moment of wonderment” together! I learned a couple of valuable lessons that day so long ago. I married the right girl. When she pulled me away laughing that day, I knew she was a gem. I love her so much. Life has so many things that are of real importance that matter. Winning a stuffed animal wasn’t one of them! She has kept me grounded in the important things! Two; this world will make a lot of empty promises to you and seldom does the reward end up being what you thought it would be for the effort or sacrifice you make. With that said, I am reminded that the eternal promises of the Lord are sure. In Him, the Savior, I can put my trust and know that the promises and covenants I make with Him will bring true eternal rewards! The world often rewards us with plastic army men or tiny glass horses that break easily! I don’t need a rabbit foot for good luck, I need to trust in my Father above and His promises!

ARE WE "RAINY DAY" PEOPLE?

“Rainy day people always seem to know when it’s time to call Rainy day people don’t talk, they just listen till they’ve heard it all Rainy day lovers don’t lie when they tell ‘ya they’ve been down like you Rainy day people don’t mind if you’re cryin’ a tear or two” (Rainy Day People, Gordon Lightfoot) It took me a long time to understand the meaning behind what Gordon Lightfoot wrote and sung in his 1975 song. Sometimes you just like a tune, but you don’t really internalize it’s meaning. And often when you are young, you haven’t experienced the ups and downs of what this world has to offer. As I listened to this old song the other day, I reflected on the nature of its meaning. And I wondered if I was a ‘rainy day person’ to others. Or do I get caught up in my life so much that I am not that friend, that sibling, or that husband or father who is there to listen in time of need? Do I sympathize, or in some cases empathize with others around me? Do I ‘listen to it all’ or half listen as a loved one express themselves to me. And do I let them ‘cry a tear of two’ without rushing them out the door or off the phone. Am I a ‘Rainy Day Lover,’ so to speak? Or when the rain falls in the lives of others am I absent? I love the quote from Stephen R. Covey on this matter. Said he, “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.” And Malcom Forbes once said, “The art of conversation lies in listening.” I’m going to work on joining others in being “Rainy Day People.” Perhaps I will find, that not only can I help part the dreary skies for others; but in so doing, my skies will become brighter because I have felt the joy that comes when you serve your fellowman with a sincere heart.