women's conference March 2017

women's conference March 2017

Monday, February 19, 2018

Kindness is Never Wasted

“I’m from Price, Utah!” I heard a voice holler out from upstairs at our LDS Bookstore after I posed the sarcastic question, “Who in Washington would ever be from the little town of Price?” I had been in conversation with an employee about my dad and mom growing up in Price and the unlikely recent acquaintance of a former Price native. Now, surprised to hear a response to my hypothetical question, I went to the sound of the responder to find an older gentleman, Brent Olson, proudly wearing a US Army Veteran hat. He explained that he grew up in Price, Utah and graduated from Carbon High School before leaving that area for a career in the Army.

“You may know my father,” I questioned, “Jeddy Morley?”  The man fell quiet, as it was obvious he reverted back over 60 years ago to memories of high school. He remained quiet as he mustered control of his emotions that seemed to attack him like an unforeseen soldier. The quivering chinned-man proceeded to explain that in high school he was unable to play sports because of rheumatic fever, which made him less-than-popular. In fact, he described himself as a “nobody”— overlooked by everyone. But, there was one quiet, popular, well-liked athlete a year older than him that always made eye contact with this “nobody” that offered a smile and a genuine “Hi”. 

Brent said, “I know your dad, and I will never forget him for making me feel like I was somebody.” Then, succumbing to his emotion, he said, “I love that guy!”

I wiped tears from my eyes that were there because I felt sorry for the neglected teenager Brent once-was, but even more, I felt proud to be the daughter of such a kind-hearted teenager-now-father who noticed the lonely and insecure, and made a life-long difference. 

I have thought about my dad as a teenager, knowing he was innately shy, undoubtedly insecure, with a home life that was less-than-ideal, and yet, he looked out for the “one” and made him feel special. 

Kindness received is never forgotten. An act of kindness is never wasted. Its impact spans the decades and reaches into the eternities. 

By Chrisy Cope

Saturday, January 27, 2018

Sometimes You Just Need to Laugh

My husband has a stressful job and he came home one night with visible stress weighing him down. I suggested we go on a date. It was a school night so it would have to be a quick date somewhere local. Local, for us is a challenge. We live in a farming town with only a gas station close by. We have to travel 15-30 minutes to go anywhere, luckily for us, a great diner opened up about 7 miles from us in the middle of about nowhere.
I served our kids the dinner I had made and Brett and I headed for the restaurant. It seemed darker than usual with just one side of dining area lit. We walked in and headed to a table. A few tables were occupied and the owners sat at one. They looked at us and asked a question, something with the word “party”. Not knowing exactly what they said because I didn’t actually hear them, but assuming she was asking if we were having a party or coming to join the party, some little funny comment about the two of us out on a school night, I nodded, gave a little laugh, and set down.
It wasn’t long until the waitress came over and gave us waters, which I promptly knocked over spilling all over the table and floor. The waitress was good about it, teasing I shouldn’t have anything stronger to drink and cleaned it up. She came back minutes later and took our order. It was while we were waiting for our food that we noticed the room filling up. We also noticed everyone looking at us. Just after our food came is when we realized that everyone else knew each other. They were talking loudly between tables, getting up to hug one another, and asking what to order.
If you know me, then you probably can imagine I wasn’t shy when a lady asked what I ordered and if it was good. I launched into a description that I thought she would appreciate only to stop talking when I noticed her attention was now looking at another table.
Brett chuckled and said, “I think this is a private party. Everyone is looking at us weird and wondering who we are.” I looked around and sure enough they did seem to be looking with confused faces.
It was just seconds after that a lady came to the table to hand us raffle tickets. Brett then explained we weren’t suppose to be there and we would package our food and leave. The lady was super nice and told us it was a party for her husband who was ranked #2 in the national rodeo and they were headed out the following day. We talked for a bit wishing him luck and telling them how awesome that was. We then found the waitress and asked for boxes and our bill.
After noticing they needed our table sooner rather than later, we stood up and made our way to the cashier where our waitress was. She thought we were there with the party and was in no hurry to bring our boxes and check and laughed when she realized we were actually serious about leaving. When she walked off to grab our boxes, I had a good look around. I inwardly laughed when I noticed a big poster board saying, “Good Luck Cody!” and a three tier cake in the middle of the bar with the same words. As we walked out I handed his wife $5 dollars and said, “Good Luck to Cody!” She laughed and thanked us.
Once we were back in our car we noticed the sign out by the road said CLOSED and laughed all the way home. Apparently they are not open Monday or Tuesday but those days can be rented for private parties, as we learned for ourselves.

We could have felt guilty or humiliated for crashing their party, but instead we laughed. With some things I do, we find ourselves laughing frequently, and it always helps lift spirits. We went out to relieve stress that night and it worked like a charm!
-Mary Ethington

Saturday, January 20, 2018

A Father's Whistle

During the Christmas break, we scheduled a trip to Bear Lake with the family. We spent 4 days there playing in snow, swimming in the heated pool and simply enjoying family time. On New Year’s day we rented snowmobiles and a side by side and headed up Ogden Canyon for some trail riding. We arrived and quickly unloaded the machines and everybody took off! Monson was on a snowmobile, Dave on another one and 4 of us were loaded up in the side by side. About an hour into our day, Merrell came and asked if anybody had seen Monson.
We organized what search parties we could with our limited play toys and went looking for Monson. Another hour went by and still no Monson, no machine. Austin and Merrell took off again looking up and down the mountain sides, searching, Chelsea and I were at the car where we started asking others strangers to help, Dave and the rest of the crew went in the side by side looking. Dave came back and looked worried. He said “Let’s get in the car and go down the road and see if we can see him.”

As I went to hope in the car, I looked over at Dave to see him saying a silent prayer. I know many silent prayers had already been offered. Dave and I got in the car and began driving down the canyon, as we were looking, we could see in the distance a young man wearing what looked like a carhartt jacket, and jeans. Dave pulled off the side of the road and got out and “whistled”. The kids know dads whistle. The figure we saw stopped and turned and looked around when he heard the whistle. We were too far away for him to spot us, but we could see him looking around. My heart was comforted, I knew it was Monson. We went back to the parking lot where more strangers offered their help. Dave started hiking towards Monson and I guided the strangers to the two figures walking along the mountainside.

As I have thought about this experience and the significance of hearing “a father’s call”, I have thought how often does our Heavenly Father see us wandering, lost, needing help; does He not “whistle” for us? How familiar is His whistle or call for you? Do we hear Him? He continues to call for us Mathew 11:28 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. There are so many invitations from the Savior; In Moroni Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him,... again I would exhort you that ye would come unto Christ, and lay hold upon every good gift,.. He does watch over us, He loves us! It’s up to us to Trust in Him and heed his call! I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who does watch over each and every one of us, He calls for us, warns us, guides us and Loves us!!
-Shannon Morley

Wednesday, December 27, 2017

Better-Not Easier

December 2017
As I think back over this last year of 2017 I have varied memories and emotions. I hear myself telling others that I am hoping for an easier 2018. Then I review my experiences…
There have been quite a wide range of events and happenings that have had an impact on me this past year; quite few of them very difficult. In February I received a phone call saying that my expectant daughter was headed to the hospital at 29 weeks and was then put on bedrest in the hospital to try to keep her unborn son. That meant figuring out what to do with their cute little 2 year old Jane while mom “lives at the hospital.” That was challenging at best, but they got through it.
Then we had the continuing health challenges of my dad. It became difficult for him to get around and he kept falling and needed assistance to get up. I tried to help out as much as I could which took a lot of time and energy. He just got so tired of the fight and finally returned home to his Heavenly Father in April. That was a very heart wrenching phone call. After the dust settled we were left with a lot of things to piece together and to help mom cope with her new normal.
Only 2 days after dad’s funeral mom was diagnosed with bladder cancer. That took on a whole new dimension of care giving and helping her with as much as I could.
We have been touched by extended family challenges, rehab treatment centers, crises’ of faith, on-going health issues, financial concerns and an overall worry for the well-being of all those we love so dearly.
Then in November we visited the Cedar City Temple open house with our family. What a joy to be in that beautiful, holy place with the people that mean the most to me. However, on our way home we were in a car accident that sent grandma to the hospital and left me with a lingering concussion that seemed to hang on way too long. Our new car was totaled and I was forced to scale back our holiday festivities.
One would look at these events and truly wish for an easier new year. But then I realized that all those events were what had left me with many qualities that I could have obtained in no other way.
I look back now with greater appreciation for life and good health. I am blessed with a deeper sense of compassion for so many in difficult circumstances. I see my faith strengthened through trials and deeply rooted in our Savior Jesus Christ. I have come to appreciated the blessings of the temple as I never had before. I see people through the eyes of our Savior and am more willing to accept, love and serve God’s children. I see God’s hand in the details of my life every day. I have come to realize how truly blessed I have been in 2017. I see now that easier is not better. It is by passing through hard things that we become polished and refined. As we place our trust and faith in the Lord He will lead us along and help us become all that He knows we can be. All that He needs us to be.

May we all be grateful for the good, hard things we experience in life and may we all become a little better, a little wiser, and be filled with peace throughout this coming year.

Thursday, November 30, 2017

Pencil In God's Hand

Mother Teresa is credited with saying that she was a pencil in God’s hand. That He did the writing and the thinking, and she had only to allow herself to be used. That got me to thinking about the different kinds of pencils and their advantages and disadvantages, and then on to which kind of pencil I was.
Pencil’s haven’t changed much since their invention. Not really. I mean, a standard pencil is about the same as it has always been. Of course, there are better quality pencils and poorer quality pencils; some lead erases better than others, some sharpen easier. But, there are no fancy moving parts or gadgets on it to make it work better or differently. It has lead. It has an eraser. You pick it up and it writes. It’s a pencil, right?
Then there are the mechanical pencils. These are varied and mostly they work just fine as long as they continue to have lead placed in them. The lead breaks easily. They can be quite expensive, depending on how fancy you get. Sometimes the lead needs to be prodded a bit to get it out, clicking and clicking away on the button to get enough of it out to write with. The erasers are often changeable, or get lost. So, while they’re still pencils, and they work like a pencil, they’re a bit fussier.
There are art pencils, colored pencils, and square carpenter pencils. Some pencils with sparkles on them or that change color with the heat of your hand. I once saw a pencil that was three feet long and bigger around than my thumb with an eraser the size of a jumbo marshmallow. They come in all colors, sizes, and shapes, but they’re all still pencils created for the sole purpose of being picked up and making marks on paper.
Going back to Mother Teresa and the question fo which kind of pencil I am. I’d like to believe that in the Lord’s hand I’m perpetually sharp with an unchewed eraser. That I am constantly and consistently ready and eager to let Him use me in whatever way He needs. It’d be nice if I I came in a cool color, too. But in all honesty, I feel like He usually has to click my button a few times in order for my lead to show up at all, and then sometimes, my lead just breaks and He’s either got to tap on me a few more times or move on to another, more prepared pencil.
I heard a story once of a woman who was washing dishes when she felt the Lord tap her on the shoulder (so to speak) and tell her to visit a woman down the road. She responded to that tap so quickly that when the other woman answered the knock on her door, the first woman still had soap suds on her hands.
I imagine that woman was the kind of pencil that Mother Teresa was — The kind that every faithful woman wants to be, but that leads me to ask you the same question: what kind of pencil are you?
by Mandi

Wednesday, October 25, 2017


Lately I've been frustrated with myself. I keep doing the same things over and over and I know I shouldn't. I talk too much, for instance. Talking can be a good thing, but not when I say things I shouldn't or when I interrupt or cut people off. I could list several other bad habits but I think everyone does things that they wish they didn't. We all have undesirable characteristics and actions that have become a part of who we are. 

This brings me to a lesson I've learned from Larry. We have this bird that we've affectionately named, Larry, that comes back every year to our house and runs into the same window repeatedly. Year after year, the same bird on the same window. Of course it could be a different bird, as all Robins pretty much look identical but we figure it must be the same bird because no other bird would be so dumb as to keep running into the same window. Every day. It used to be that Larry would come about the same time every afternoon. It was almost like clockwork. But now, he comes many times during the day and this year, he's started going to another window and doing the same head-bonking routine as he does on his "normal" window.  We have recorded Larry running into the window multiple times because it's such an anomaly and he's even been in a few snap stories. He just keeps coming. We figure this is the 4th year in a row that he's come and smashed himself against our window as part of his daily routine. My family considers Larry "mentally handicapped" because why on earth would you keep doing the same thing over and over again?  It must be painful, or at the very least, frustrating, but he continues down his self-abusive path. Over and over again. 

Then it hit me.  I'm just like Larry! I keep doing the same things over and over again but I'm expecting different results. I know I talk too much. I always feel like I have so much to "tell" everyone. So I just continue to smash against the window, doing the same thing, feeling frustrated and having hurt feelings because I don't feel like I'm communicating as effectively as I want to with my husband, children or anyone really. 

So, I've decided that I don't want to be Larry. I think it's easy to get into the same patterns and repeat behaviors and actions that aren't really helpful or productive. That's my goal. To stop beating myself up and learn from my mistakes. The greatest thing I think I can do is study the life of the Savior and try to be just like Him. He was the master at everything, including communication and every other self mastery skill. Why not learn from the best and try to pattern my habits and life after Him? 

Everyone in our family hopes that Larry will realize that he's not getting anywhere in life by running into the window every day. We all hope he will get over whatever fascination he has with the window and that he'll set himself free from the drudgery of repetitive, abusive habits. I hope I can do that too. No one wants to be a Larry. 
Cathy Bennett

Sunday, October 15, 2017

Saying NO is Okay

"Saying NO is Okay"

There are times that parents say NO!  When I was young my dad wanted us to go up to Phoenix to visit somebody, I don't remember who, I just remember that I did not want to go.  I was plenty old enough to stay home and that is what I wanted.  I kept bugging my dad, pleading with him to "leave me home".  He said NO.  We all piled in our orange pumpkin van and traveled up to Phoenix.  On the way home, I was still pouting and complaining about being there.  We were at a stop light, I remember clear as day. Dad stopped and turned around and began talking with me, probably putting me in my spot.  The light turned green and Dad was still turned around talking with me; cars behind him honked their horns.  He turned around to drive and at that very moment a car ran the red light.  If Dad had not been talking with me, we would have been T-boned.  As we got home that evening, Dad told me, "I don't know why I didn't feel good about you staying home today, but the experience we had on the way home could have been a very serious one if I would have let you stay home."  

This experience has come to my memory recently because I  had to tell one of my children "NO".  I don't know why I feel so strongly about not letting him participate in an activity that seems okay, but after recalling this memory I've decided that I may never know the "why" of saying NO.  If my feeling is NO, I should realize the Spirit is guiding me and stick to my answer of NO.  Saying NO is hard for me.  I hate seeing my child moping around the house, feeling like he's picked on, under appreciated, never getting to do what he wants, etc. I remember being a child and hating the word NO.  

Looking back, I am very grateful for a dad who listened to the spirit and said NO.  My family could have been in a very serious accident, while I stayed home.  I am grateful for the Holy Ghost who guides, warns and protects and sometimes even says NO.
Shannon Morley

Kindness is Never Wasted

“I’m from Price, Utah!” I heard a voice holler out from upstairs at our LDS Bookstore after I posed the sarcastic question, “Who i...