Unknown Stranger by Christoffer Nielsen

          I, Frederick Nielsen, was born in Lexington, Lee County Texas on the 25th of October 1875.  My father Ole Nielsen died of pneumonia when i was just a babe.  I arrived in St. Johns, Arizona in 1881. Times were hard, we killed one of our oxen and dried it, we lived on that until the weeds started to grow! The first winter we were there we dug a hole in the bank of a hill and put a roof of dirt over it, that's where we lived.  In the springtime we lived in a wagon box until we made an adobe house.  My mother passed away when I was only 13 years old.  I wrangled horse on the old Long H Ranch for my board before being hired on for $25.00 a month.  I worked there for three years then moved back to town to herd sheep for Will Harris.  I begin going with Mary Holgate. We saw each other for three years and then we married December 19, 1899.  We didn't have much but we were happy.
          In the spring of 1912 we moved up to Richville and I farmed for Tom Irwin. I was looking for a farm to buy.  One day a man by the name of Rule Jarvis, who owned the farm just North of where I was working, told me he would like to buy my cows.  I told him I would like to have his farm, so we traded.  I gave him 40 cows for the ranch at Richville. (this is where many Wards in our Stake hold their Fathers and Sons outings)
          I was finally converted to go to the Temple to be sealed to my wife and our children.  We had be saving for a long time for this.  There were only 7 children living, one had passed away.  We traveled by team and wagon and it took us three months and three days to make the trip up and back.  It was a hard trip but pleasant.  We started out on the 14th of June, 1915. Each night at sundown we stopped and made camp, so each could get proper exercise and rest. They boys and I would care for the horses.  After each horse had eaten a helping of grain, they were hobbled and turned lose to graze.  Momma and the girls would get our supper.  After it was over, we sang songs while I played my fiddle.  We told stories and sometimes played games before we had our family prayer and went to bed.  Arising early, everyone would gather around the campfire to have morning prayer.  Then each child would get busy with their responsibilities so we could get on our way.  This same procedure went on each day except Sunday.  On that day we did not travel, but rested and read the scriptures.

          One afternoon we came to a junction in the road and did not know which way to go to Salt Lake.  As we sat there wondering which road to take, i was looking over the beautiful country and i saw a person coming toward us.  As he came closer to the wagon, Mother said, "He has a pleasant face and a nice smile, I'm sure he can help us."  After greeting this stranger he asked if we were having trouble.  I told him no, we just didn't know which road lead to Salt Lake. The Stranger told us, started to leave, turned back, and asked why we were going there.  I told him we had traveled hundreds of miles to be sealed in the Salt Lake Temple for time and all Eternity, and have our eight children sealed to us.  The man said, "Well, in that case you had better take the other road which is a shorter distance to the Manti Temple, because the Salt Lake Temple closes for the summer in two days, and you couldn't possibly make it there in time."  I reached over and patted mother's hand knowing she had her heart set on getting married in the Salt Lake Temple.  I turned back to thank the stranger, and ask him to eat with us, but he was gone!  No one saw him leave, and he was no where to been seen!  You can draw your own conclusions, but we know in our hearts that stranger was sent by a spiritual being to show us the right way to go.  We broke the wagon tongue one time, but that is the only trouble we had.

          This was an account given by my Great Grandfather Frederick Nielsen who set the example for our family to be sealed in the temple of the Lord.  I am thankful to him and my Great Grandmother for their sacrifices and examples.  I'm grateful for the many lessons learned from this simple account of their trip.  I hope we can all remember the sacrifices and service our ancestors have provided us. These acts of service and sacrifice have afforded us all the blessings we enjoy, both temporal and spiritual no matter what faith we belong to.  It is my prayer and hope that we can all provide the same examples and blessings to our posterity!

For All You Moms Who Sparkle by Suzanne Hancock

For my mom's birthday three years ago, part of her gift from us was a children's picture book, The Very Fairy Princess. My favorite line in this book is, "You just have to let your SPARKLE out!" I took this idea and wrote my mom a poem about the ways she sparkled to me. Unfortunately, I never gave it to her. She had surgery on that birthday, and two short weeks later, she departed this earthly life. With so much going on during that time, I just couldn't find the right moment to present her with this gift. It is still one of my regrets that I did not share this with her when I had the chance.

On this Mothers' Day, I hope for three things:
1. I hope that those of you who still have your mothers here with you will tell them all the ways they sparkle. Tell them in writing, tell them over the phone, tell them when you see them. Just tell them while you still can.

2. I hope those of you who have lost your mothers will remember their goodness and carry on their sparkle in your own lives.

3. I hope that all of you who are mothers will realize how much you sparkle in all you do, all you say, all you are to your children.

And now, I share with you the words I wrote for my own mom. I'm praying that she has better-than-Frontier internet service in heaven and can read this blog and know what is in my heart.

Mom's Sparkle

You sparkle by being

faithful and full of faith,

trusting in your Heavenly Father's care,

as He ever holds you

in the palm of His hand.

You sparkle when you

laugh,

especially at an inappropriate comment

someone else made ~

or you made,

shocking us all with the side of you

few get to see and hear.

You sparkle when you listen to music,

shoulder dancing to Abba,

singing that you know that your Redeemer lives,

wiping your tears when a song

touches a place deep within your soul.

You sparkle as an example

of the type of woman

all of us want to be,

compassionate,

loving,

forgiving,

and enduring.

You sparkle in your role of Gramma,

taking each one of nineteen

and making them feel like the only,

playing,

reading,

giving suckers.

You sparkle as a chef,

creating dishes flavored with

sugar, spice, and love,

sharing your expertise

through phone calls,

copied recipes,

and carefully put-together binders

to be used and cherished.

You sparkle

because you are Mom to me,

loving me with all my faults,

sharing my joys and sadnesses,

traveling with me to Washington,

and always leading me back home.

No Wound That Cannot Be Healed by Ryder Nielsen

My name is Ryder Nielsen. I recently returned home from my mission in the Philippines Manila Mission. I would like to share the story of an extraordinary woman from the Philippines; her name is Rose Chit. Sister Rose had it all in her life; she had married the love of her life and was raising 3 beautiful children. Her family had joined the church in 1993 and were very active up until 2004 when her husband had become very involved with the community as a politician. For the next three years they stopped attending church due to the great demand of his schedule. They had slowly moved away from God's light. In the summer of 2007 Sister Rose and her family would face the biggest trial of their lives, especially for her. Her husband had made the decision to run for congress which required him to be at weekly planning meetings for his campaign. After one of these routine meetings her husband returned to their home late in the evening. He walked into his bedroom to find Sister Rose and their youngest daughter, Paulyn, lying on their bed. At that moment 3 masked men holding knives broke through the door and began to stab him. Being petrified with fear, Sister Rose and her daughter Paulyn, who was just 7 years old at the time, helplessly watched as the men stabbed him to death. We can only imagine the great horror Sister Rose and Paulyn must have felt. With deep mental and spiritual wounds from such a traumatizing experience, only God would be able to heal Sister Rose and her family. But she became very angry with God. She felt that He had abandoned her and her family. She quickly made choices that pushed her away from God’s healing hand, turning to alcohol and cigarettes to ease her pain. For the next 4 years she spent her days away from her family hanging out in bars and casinos to keep her mind from facing reality. She even contemplated taking her own life. Although she felt God had abandoned her, I know the whole time He was watching over her, waiting for the right time when she would be humble enough to receive the healing He so wanted to give to her through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.

In April of 2014 that time had finally come as 2 Mormon missionaries came knocking on her door. She recognized us immediately and welcomed us into her home. After many months we helped her to overcome her mental road blocks, and she allowed the Healing and Redeeming power of the Atonement into her life. She returned to activity in the church and her youngest daughter, Paulyn, made the decision to follow the example of Jesus Christ and was baptized. In her own words, she wrote me saying, “I am so much thankful you have been an instrument in opening our hearts and minds to let God back into our lives again.”

The experience I have shared has many principles we can learn from, but the greatest is the fact that God uses His servants in helping and influencing others to use The Atonement of Jesus Christ in their lives. For Sister Rose it was my companion and I. For those of you who may be suffering at this time I pray you will be able to recognize those the Lord has put in your life so that you may also be healed of the deep spiritual wounds you may have. I pray also that we may be instruments in the hands of God to help and influence others in receiving God's love. I pray that we ourselves will not set bounds and limitations on The Infinite Atonement of our Elder Brother. May we always remember the words of Nephi: “Therefore, cheer up your hearts and remember that ye are free to act for yourselves- to choose the way of everlasting death or the way of Eternal Life.”

Swamp or Garden of Eden by Kevin W. Lee

Growing up in St. Johns was such a blessing to me.  I grew up in a neighborhood where all of the parents were referred to as aunt and uncle. Up the hill lived aunt LaKay and uncle Joey. Across the street were aunt Karen and uncle Kelly as well as aunt Julie and uncle Ted. Somehow, I knew that these individuals loved me for who I was in spite of me being such a knucklehead. The old saying, "It takes a village to raise a child," definitely applied to me. Much of who I am today was because of the surroundings and the people that helped me in my life. I will always be eternally grateful to them.

I have fond memories of places around town. I enjoyed the meadows, chunkies bump, screamers valley, three ponds, snake hill, lovers’ lane (although I never used it, and that's my story and I'm sticking to it) and the most loved of all, the drain. The drain was actually considered a swamp. I never considered it a swamp, though. To me, it was a Garden of Eden. I lived in that drain fishing for minnows, trapping muskrats or riding the waves when it was monsoon season and flooding was at its best. I always made things to do when there was nothing to do.

I, along with my wife Karen, have raised our family here in St. Johns. She actually grew up in San Diego so living here is quite a different environment in every way possible. She misses the ocean and family; however, we both feel the same way about our little town. We have had a village to raise our children and that turns St. Johns into a Garden of Eden for us. We have had people watch out for our children. They have had great leaders, friends, and role models. They have participated in a never-ending list of activities and testimony-building experiences. They often had dirt under their fingernails as they learned how to work hard, and they have had many opportunities to serve. 

Wherever you live, a place is what you make it and what you put into it. You can see just an old swamp, or you can see a Garden of Eden. Is it just a dirty little Eastern Arizona town, or is it paradise?  I personally believe it is paradise, and I wouldn't change it for the world. Thank you, St. Johns, for helping me to understand who I am, for helping me to raise my family, for helping me to learn who God is and His son, Jesus Christ. And thanks for all of the memories, all of the little things that make life so great.

Our Guided Journey by Kimberly Herring

    Years ago I was traveling home from Women's Conference in Provo, UT with my sister.  We had an additional traveling companion that year; Jenny Brown had joined our party.  As we started our journey home, my sister and I were full of chatter, sharing experiences we had had over the past few days, laughing and crying so much over one such experience that I was not paying particular attention to where we were going.  About 30 minutes into the drive Jenny hesitantly said, "I think we are going the wrong way".  Now this was before GPS's and Smartphones with Google Maps.  I had a printed sheet from Map-quest to guide us home.  We were indeed on the wrong road and I had no idea how to get us back on the right path.  Jenny suggested she call her dad to ask for directions.  She did so and he confirmed our situation.  He asked which route we had planned to take and suggested we use an alternative route to get us safely home.  Now this alternative route was not one I had ever taken before and it was completely unknown to me.  Knowing Bishop Brown was a man I fully trusted and that he indeed wanted us to return his daughter home safely we embarked on this unknown course.  I admit that during the drive home I questioned the path we were on, especially when we came upon the "Welcome to Colorado" sign.  I just KNEW we were NOT supposed to be in Colorado but, again, knowing that he had experience beyond our own and that he would not lead us astray, we, although unsure, continued on the journey he had suggested for us.  We did made it home safely and I have often reflected on this experience and compared it to the journey of life.

We are all on this journey called life.  We started this journey when we chose to follow the plan of our Savior.  We were excited for this new adventure and I'm sure filled with excited chatter and anticipation.

We knew this journey would not be easy.  We would be "unsure" of our path at times or even get lost once in awhile.  There would be highs and lows, wrong turns, and obstacles along the way.  Each providing a "pause" in our journey.  A time to reflect on where we have come, where we are going and time to prepare to set out again, sometimes down a completely different or unknown road.  Each opportunity to reflect and evaluate the path we are on is vital to our success on this journey.  Will this path I'm on take me to where I want to go?  

Heavenly Father has given us the gift of agency.  It is our decision to choose where we will go.  What we will accomplish.  What we will believe.  What we cannot choose is the consequence of our choice, whether good or bad.  I recently heard a quote, "We must WANT the consequences of WHAT we WANT".  Those consequences, whether good or bad, may not be immediate but they will come.  Are we prepared for what we "want"?  Will we get what we "want" from the daily decisions we are making?  For it truly is those simple, everyday choices that move us along our journey.  What decisions are we making that will prepare us for the next "leg" of our journey?  Have we done all we can to have a successful trip?

Heavenly Father has also provided us with countless maps, tools, experienced travelers, and guides to help us.  Have we taken advantage of these gifts?  We have road maps in the form of scriptures, patriarchal blessings, words from a living prophet and apostles.  We have seasoned travelers in our parents, grandparents, leaders, teachers, neighbors and friends.  We have the gift of the Holy Ghost, Bishops, and Stake Presidents to help guide us along the way.  Most importantly we have a Savior who has marked the path for us to follow and a loving Heavenly Father who wants to see ALL His children safely home.

There are necessary checkpoints and vital rest stops for us along the way.  Steps of baptism, receiving the Holy Ghost, and making temple covenants.  We have the opportunity to "rest" and "refuel" each week as we attend our Sabbath Day Meetings and partake of the sacrament.  We can attend the temple and find peace within its sacred walls.  We have homes where the Spirit of the Lord dwells and we can be protected from worldly influence.  We have every opportunity given us to be successful in our travels.

I have found that one of the greatest gifts comes in the form of earthly angels.  They are all around us.  They offer help, comfort and support during times of trial and rejoice with us during times of great joy!  They may even "question" our path, as Jenny did that day on our journey home, and offer help to start us on a better path.  We are those "earthly Angels".  We are truly "the hands of heaven on earth" and we have been sent to aid and assist those in need.  What a wonderful opportunity!   Helping one another along the path of life is absolutely part of our Father's plan for each of us.  How grateful I am to feel the love of others as they have served me and my family and how honored to be trusted by my Father in Heaven to help care for His children here on earth.

My journey thus far has been full of both joy and sorrow but I have been richly blessed as I strive to follow the path set before me.  When my priorities are in order, when I listen to the promptings of the spirit and act upon such promptings, I am happy and at peace.  I am grateful for the "bumps" in the road that teach me, shape me and strengthen me.  I am thankful for the roads I have traveled and look forward to those yet unknown.  I am grateful for Priesthood leaders who have been ordained of God and are set on my path to help and guide my steps.  I know my Savior lives.  I know He will be there for me through it all.  I know there are both seen and unseen angels working tirelessly to help each of us as we travel through this journey of mortality.  The fullness of the gospel is on the earth today.  We have been given all we need to succeed and how grateful I am for this knowledge.  I know we have living prophets to speak to us, to warn us and to guide us.  The choice is ours to make.  Will we listen?  Will we follow?  Will we return?  Will we help others along the way?  It is my prayer that we will.

Mourn with Those that Mourn by SueAn Stradling-Collins

And it came to pass that he said unto them:

Behold, here are the waters of Mormon (for thus were they called)

and now, as ye are desirous to come unto the fold of God,

and to be called his people,

and are willing to bear one another's burdens,

that they may be light;

Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn;

yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort...

Mosiah 18: 8-9

I obviously cannot speak for everyone, but because of the recent passing of my husband and sweetheart, Chuck, I have learned a great deal from others about what it means to mourn with those who mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort.

First, let me say that our community of St. Johns is amazing. The food, the visits, the hugs, the cards, the prayers, the support have been overwhelming. I am still writing thank you cards. Chuck's brother-in-law, before offering the closing prayer at Chuck's funeral paused and said something to this effect, “We've always wondered why Chuck didn't move to a lower elevation, but as I look at all of you, I understand. Thank you.”

Here are some of the lessons I've learned and some of the things I have come to appreciate:

There is no small act of kindness (I just saw that on a card at the drug store). I am so

appreciative of those who remembered Leslie and Thomas and Grandma individually. Asking about them, checking in with them, not just me. People came to the house with meals and then apologized for them. (Why do we do that?) Every meal was appreciated. Every gift was appreciated. Here are some of the thoughtful things neighbors, friends, and family shared: cooked meals; uncooked meals with instructions for preparation; food that could be eaten in small portions; items to put in the freezer for later; an ice chest filled with soda and water so that people could just grab one when they were thirsty; baked goods; gift bags filled with comfort food; paper plates, bowls, cups, napkins, paper towels, toilet paper; flowers; hearts taped to the door of our house when we came home from the funeral; and bread and rolls (more on that later). And let me just say that food really does help heal the soul. With each dish, it felt a little like Christmas as we lifted the foil or lid to see what love was being shared with us.

Some people came to the house bearing just themselves and apologized for being there. (Why do we do that?) Every visit was appreciated and your love, time, and support were the gift you brought. I would like to add here that those who wrote specific remembrances of Chuck or came to the house and told us specific memories were greatly appreciated. It is okay to talk of the deceased, it is welcomed and appreciated. We loved hearing how Chuck touched the life of others, and many times, we didn't know of those occurrences until you shared them with us. How nice it is to have your loved one praised and complimented. And how nice it is to still have people stopping me to offer condolences and ask how we are doing. It is never too late to remember those we love and to check in on a neighbor.

Funerals are extremely expensive (over $7.000), but people are extremely generous. I can't tell you the number of cards that were handed to me or sent in the mail that contained money to help pay for expenses. I'm sure other people have had to pay for funerals and, knowing this, help ease the financial burdens of others. Being my first funeral, I suspected the cost, but didn't truly know. It was daunting, but the generosity of others helped to ease the burden.

So why do we apologize at times like this? I believe it is because we are worried that we will say or do the wrong thing. If having too much food in the house and friends, family, and neighbors knocking on the door and coming out in droves to attend the funeral is taken in the wrong way, then the problem is not with you and your efforts.

And I am most grateful for the tender mercies of the Lord and our Heavenly Father. So many of the things said and done were just exactly what one of us needed at that moment. It really is through others that the Lord blesses us. I'd like to be able to say that I wrote down all the amazing blessings that occurred during this time, but I am still trying to capture them. I did record the feelings of peace and love sent by the Lord.

Others mentioned in both cards and person that they were praying for us. I can testify that those prayers and thoughts were and are extremely buoying. May we always pray for those who have lost a loved one. It does make a huge difference.

Many of you brought rolls and loaves of bread to us. Mom and I were commenting on the

quantity and quality of these amazing gifts. Bread truly is a comfort food, but we also thought of Christ saying, “I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger...” (John 6:35). And we are grateful to our Saviour each Sunday as we take the sacrament and are reminded of the bread (His body) broken for us so that we, and Chuck, can live again.

Thank you all for your love and support for us and for each other. May we all mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort. And don't forget the Bread.

Hallelujah! It is empty! by Suzanne Hancock

Empty Linen

By Emily Harris

The linen which once held Him is empty.

It lies there,

Fresh and white and clean.

The door stands opened.

The stone is rolled away,

And I can almost hear the angels singing His praises.

Linen cannot hold Him.

Stone cannot hold Him.

The words echo through the empty limestone chamber,

“He is not here.”

The linen which once held Him is now empty.

It lies there,

Fresh and white and clean
And oh, hallelujah, it is empty.

===============================================================

I echo this poet's sentiment.

Hallelujah, it is empty, and I will once again embrace loved ones gone from this earth.

Hallelujah, it is empty, and my soul finds rest from weakness and error in His redeeming grace.

Hallelujah, it is empty, and time has no hold on my family's bond.

Hallelujah, it is empty, and the marks in His hands and in His feet exemplify obedience, sacrifice, and love.

Hallelujah, it is empty, and He lives again, still, ever, to bring peace to my raging storms and guide my ship back home. Home to Him.

Hallelujah! It is empty!