Music Brought Me Comfort

We were two thousand miles away from our home in Alberta, Canada, visiting our daughter’s family. My husband, who had sprained his ankle the evening we arrived, was in the hospital with a blood clot. He lay in a bed, immobilized, with an IV in his arm.

As I left his room after my first visit, I felt a little blue. I was in an unfamiliar place, lonely and worried about the responsibilities we had waiting for us at home.

Our daughter wanted some things for the baby, so we stopped at a department store. Because I didn’t feel like shopping, I walked over to a clerk demonstrating a beautiful electric organ.

“Do you play?” he asked.

“Only a little,” I replied.

“Sit down and try it then.” I sat and softly played “Wooden Heart” and then “How Great Thou Art.” Suddenly I heard a lady singing along with me. Her rich soprano and the sound of the organ had attracted people from all over the store. The clerk pushed button after button until the organ sounded like a whole orchestra. Suddenly I felt strong. The words of the song brought me a message. We would get home safely, everything would be all right. The blessing of the music and words at that time seemed heaven-sent to lift me up, and I thanked my Father in Heaven for the power of sacred music. Verna N. Forsyth, Welling, Alberta

A Calling I’d Enjoy

How can I teach Primary? I had thought to myself when I was asked to teach the children in our small branch. The idea of teaching was uncomfortable to me, and I wasn’t sure I had the patience to teach children.

But I accepted the call—not because I wanted it or liked the idea of teaching, but because I had decided to accept all calls, and because I felt the Lord knew better than I did what was best for me.

Those first few meetings were a real struggle. The children were well behaved and ready to learn, but I had never enjoyed teaching and came from my meetings feeling frustrated and discouraged. I told the branch president to find someone else, and prayed that I might get a calling I’d enjoy.

However, as the weeks went by and no replacement was called, I found that I was learning much about my Heavenly Father and the Church through the lessons; I read the scriptures more, and I actually began to enjoy my assignment. The Lord answered my prayers in a way I had not expected.

Instead of giving me a new calling, he taught me to enjoy the one I had. Glenna Nilsson, Worsley, Alberta

The Swimming Lesson

As a child, I was terribly afraid of water. My brother had drowned, and I saw water as an ugly enemy. I managed to avoid water and swimming until I was thirty years old and had to pass a swimming class to get my college degree.

I was terrified of the class, but my pleading to be released from it did not move my instructor. “Come with me,” she said. “You must understand water. It is substance,” she noted. “It is not nothing. Because it is substance, it will support you if you obey a few simple rules: fill your lungs with air; relax; fall back on the water.” I felt fear enveloping me. “Rule number four,” she added, “is trust me.”

I was overwhelmed with her concern for me. I had to try. There in the deep, deep end of that pool, I took a breath and forced relaxation. “Let go,” she begged, “Let go.” Reluctantly, I fell back into the water. All she had said was true, and as I lay calmly in the water, I envisioned the greatest teacher of them all—He was there too and had taught me faith.

Since then, I have known other kinds of fear, but always I hear the voice of the master whisper, “Let go … let go.” Then the seas calm and the storms subside, and in the darkness a smile creeps over my countenance. For faith, too, is a substance. Evelyn Allsop Dalton, Grace, Idaho

[illustration] Illustrated by Julie Hooley