WHO WAS HE?

The Cokeville LDS Seminary is interested in an excerpt from a talk given by Gov. Ronald Reagan. It had something to do with the signing of the Declaration of Independence. He said some of the signers were questioning whether they should sign it. A man they had not seen persuaded them. They were in a closed room. When they signed it and turned around to speak to him, he was gone. Can you find this excerpt for us? - M.N., Cokeville, Wyo.

He gave the speech in Seattle, Wash., Oct. 12, 1968. The excerpt follows: Thomas Jefferson tells that on the day of our nation's birth in the little hall in Philadelphia, debate had raged for hours. The men gathered there were honorable men hard-pressed by a king who had flouted the very laws they were willing to obey. Even so, to sign a Declaration of Independence was such an irretrievable act that the walls resounded with the words "treason, the gallows, the headman's axe," and the issue remained in doubt. Then a man rose and spoke. Jefferson described him as not a young man, but one who had to summon all his energy for an inpassioned plea. He cited the grievances that had brought them to this moment and finally, his voice failing, he said, "They may turn every tree into a gallows, every home into a grave, and yet the words of that parchment can never die. To the mechanic in the workshop, they will speak hope; to the slave in the mines, freedom. Sign that parchment. Sign if the next moment the noose is around your neck, for that parchment will be the textbook of freedom, the Bible of the rights of man forever." He fell back, exhausted. The 56 delegates, swept up by his eloquence, rushed forward and signed a document destined to be as immortal as a work of man can be. When they turned to thank him for his timely oratory, he was not to be found, nor could any be found who knew who he was or how he had come in or gone out through the locked and guarded doors. Fifty-six men, a little band so unique, we have never seen their like since, had pledged their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor." (Editor's Note: Gov. Reagan has, at Do-It Man's request, sent a copy of the entire speech to M.N.)

Henry Drummond Quote

No one can get joy by merely asking for it. It is one of the ripest fruits on the Christian life, and like all fruits, must be grown.

Quote by Elbert Hubbard

A little more persistence a little more effort and that seemed hopeless failure may turn to glorious success. There is no failure except in no longer trying. There is no defeat except from within, no really insurmountable barrier save our own inherit weakness of purpose.

Just For Today

Just for today, I will try to live through this day only, not to tackle my whole life problem at once. I can do things for 24 hours that would appall me if I had to keep them up for a lifetime.

Just for today I will be happy. This assumes that what Abraham Lincoln said is true. "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be." Happiness is from within; it is not a matter of externals.

Just for today I will try to adapt myself to the present, and not attempt to adjust everything to my own desires. I will take my family, my business, and my licks as they come and fit myself to them.

Just for today I will take care of my body. I will exercise it, care for it, nourish it, not abuse it nor neglect it, so that it will be perfect machine for my bidding.

Just for today I will try to strengthen my mind. I will learn something useful. I will not be a mental loafer; I will read something that requires effort, thought and concentration.

Just for today I will exercise my soul in three ways: I will help somebody by a good turn and not get found out; I will do at least two things I don't want to do, a William James suggest: "Just for exercise." I will not show anyone that my feelings are hurt: they may be hurt but today I will not show it.

Just for today I will be agreeable. I will appear as well as I can dress as becomingly as possible, talk low, courteously, be liberal with praise, criticize not at all, nor find fault with anything and not try to regulate nor improve anyone.

Just for today I will have a program. I will write down what I expect to do. I may not follow it exactly, but I will have it. It will eliminate two pests--hurry and indecision.

Just for today I will have a quiet half hour all by myself. In this half hour I will give thanks to almighty God for the abundance that is mine.

When Queens Ride By

By, Olive White Fortenbacher

John and Jennie Mangrave had eager plans when they married and took over the old farm. But their great faith dwindled as the first years passed. John worked later and later in the evenings. Jennie took more and more of the heavy tasks upon her own shoulders and had no time for the home and children. They were no further on and life had degenerated into a straining hopeless struggle.

One hot afternoon, Jennie was loading baskets of tomatoes to take to town when the children came running to tell her there was a dressed-up lady at the kitchen door. Wearily she followed the children back and saw a woman in a gray tweed coat that seemed somehow to be a part of her straight, slim body. A small gray hat with a rose quill was drawn low over her brownish hair. She was not young, but she was beautiful! An aura of eager youth clung to her, a clean and exquisite freshness.

The stranger in turn saw a young woman, haggard and weary. Her eyes looked hard and haunted. Her calico dress was shapeless and begrimed from her work.

Stranger (smiling) "How do you do?" We ran our car into the shade of your lane to have our lunch and rest for a while. And I walked on up to buy a few apples, if you have them."

Jennie (grudgingly): "Won't you go in and sit down? I'll go and pick the apples."

Stranger: "May I go with you? I'd love to help pick them."

Jennie: "Why, I s'pose so. If you can get out there through the dirt." (She led the way along the unkempt path toward the orchard. She had never been so acutely conscious of the disorder about her. She reached the orchard and began to drag a long ladder from the fence to the apple tree.)

Stranger (crying out) "Oh, but you can't do that! It's too heavy. Please let me pick a few from the ground."

Jennie: "Heavy" This ladder? I wish I didn't ever lift anything heavier than this. After hoistin' bushel baskets of tomatoes onto a wagon, this feels light to me."

Stranger: "But do you think you should? Do you think it's right. . .Why, that's a man's work!"

Jennie (furiously): "Right! Who are you to be askin' me whether I'm right or not? A person like you don't know what work is!"

Stranger (Soothingly): "I'm sorry I annoyed you by saying that. If you were to tell me all about it--because I'm only a stranger--perhaps it would help. Why can't we sit down here and rest a minute?"

Jennie: "Rest?" Me sit down to rest, an' the wagon loaded to go to town? It'll hurry me now to get back before dark."

Stranger: "Just take the time you would have spent picking the apples. I wish I could help you. Won't you tell me why you have to work so hard?"

Jennie (half sullenly): "There ain't much to tell, only that we ain't gettin' ahead. Henry Davis is talkin' about foreclosin' on us if we don't soon pay some principal. The time of the mortgage is out this year, an' mebbe he won't renew it. And it ain't that I haven't done my part. I'm barely thirty, an' I might be fifty, "I'm so weatherbeaten. That's the way I've worked."

Stranger: "And you think that has helped your husband?"

Jennie (sharply): "Helped him? Why wouldn't it help him?"

Stranger: "Men are such queer things, husbands especially. For instance, they want us to be economical, and yet they love to see us in pretty clothes. They need our work, and yet they want us to keep our youth and beauty. And sometimes they don't know themselves which they really want most. So we have to choose. That's what makes it so hard. Just after we were married, my husband decided to have his own business so he started a very tiny one. I helped my husband in the store, but we would both be tired and discouraged after a hard day at the office and we didn't seem to be having any great success. The house got run down and dinner was always a hasty affair, and soon we both started complaining and bickering with each other. Finally, we decided that maybe I should stay at home and let him take care of his work at the office as best he could. And then I worked in my house to make it a clean, shining, happy place. My husband would come home dead-tired and discouraged, ready to give up the whole thing. But after he had eaten and sat in our bright little living room, and I had told him all the funny things I could invent about my day, I could see him change. By bedtime, he had his courage back, and by morning, he was all ready to go out and fight again. And at last he won." (Jennie did not speak. She only regarded her guest with a half-resentful understanding.)

"There was a queen once, who reigned in troubled days. And every time the country was on the brink of war and the people ready to fly into a panic, she would put on her showiest dress and take her court with her, and go hunting. And when the people would see her riding by, they were sure all was well with the government. So she tided over many a danger.

"And I've tried to be like her. Whenever a big crisis comes in my husband's business, or when he's discouraged, I put on my prettiest dress and get the best dinner I know how, or give a party! And somehow it seems to work. That's the woman's part, you know....to play the queen..." (A faint "honk honk" came from the lane. The stranger started to her feet.) "That's my husband. I must go. Please don't bother about the apples. I'll just take a few from under the tree." (Taking some coins from her purse) "And give these to the children."

Jennie's thoughts were too confused for speech, but, as she watched the stranger's erect figure hurrying toward the lane, she remembered her words with the pain of anger.

Jennie: "Easy enough for her to set talkin' about queens! She never felt the work at her throat like a wolf. Talk about choosin! I haven't got no choice, I just got to keep on goin', like I always have...

She stopped suddenly and picked up a fairy-like hanky of white linen that the stranger had dropped. It's faint, delicious fragrance made her think wistfully of strange, sweet things. Of gardens in the early summer dusk; of wide, fair rooms with the moonlight shining in them; of pretty women in beautiful dresses dancing, and men admiring them.

She, Jennie, had nothing of that. Everything about their lives, her's and John's was coarseness, soiled somehow by the draggin, endless labor of the days. Suppose....suppose...suppose she were to try doing what the stranger had said, suppose she spent her time on the house and let the outside work go...

Jennie (with sudden resolution): "Mebbe I'm crazy, but I'm going to do it." Jennie brushed her hair, changed her shoes, and put on her one good dress. Then with something of the burning zeal of a fanatic, she attacked the confusion in the kitchen. Buy half-past four the room was clean. Now for supper! She decided upon fried ham and browned potatoes and apple sauce with hot biscuits, and pie. With a spirit of daring recklessness, she spread the one white table cloth on the table.

The first pan of the flaky brown mounds had been withdrawn from the oven when Henry Davis' car came up the lane. Cold fear struck Jennie. He could be coming for only one thing. As she stood shaken, wondering how she would live through what the next hour would bring, she heard the words again, "There was a queen once..."

Jennie (cordially): "Well, howd' you do, Mr. Davis? Come right in. I'm real glad to see you. Been quite a while since you was over."

Henry (embarrassed): "Why no, now, I won't go in. I just stopped to see John on a little matter of business. I'll just....."

Jennie: "You'll come right in. John will be in from milkin' in a few minutes an' you can talk while you eat, both of you. I've supper just ready."

Henry: "Why, now I reckon I'd just speak to John, an' then be gettin on."

Jennie: "They'll see you at home when you get there. You never tasted my hot biscuits with butter an'quince honey or you wouldn't take so much coaxin!" (Henry Davis came in and sat down in the big, clean kitchen. His eyes took in every homely detail of the orderly room.) "And how are things goin' with you, Mr. Davis?"

Henry: "Oh, so so. How are they with you?"

Jennie: "Why, just fine, Mr. Davis! It's been hard sleddin', but I sort of think the worst is over. We'll be 'round to pay that mortgage so fast come another year that you'll be surprised."

Henry: "Well, now, that's fine. I always wanted to see John make a success of the old place, but a man has to sort of watch his investments...Well, now, I'm glad things are pickin' up a little."

Jennie felt as though a tight band at her throat had relaxed. At the kitchen door John stopped, staring blankly at the scene before him...at Jennies moving about the bright table, chatting happily with Henry Davis! At Henry himself, his sharp features softened by an air of great satisfaction. At the sixth plate on the white cloth--Henry was staying for supper! But the silent depths of John's nature served him well. He made no comment. He merely shook hands with Henry Davis and then washed his face at the sink. Jennie arranged the savory dishes, and they sat down to supper. Henry seemed to grow more and more genial and expansive as he ate. So did John. By the time the pie was set before them, they were laughing over a joke Henry had heard at Grange meeting. As they rose from the table, Henry brought the conversation awkwardly around to his errand.

Jennie (quickly): "I told him, John, that the worst's over now, and we're gettin' on fine! I told him we'd be swampin' him pretty soon with payments. Ain't that right, John?"

John's mind was not analytical. He had been host at a delicious supper with his ancient adversary, whose sharp face was marvelously softened. Jennie's eyes were shining with a new and amazing confidence. It was a natural moment for unreasoning optimism.

John: "Why, that's right, Mr. Davis. I believe we can start clearin' this off now pretty soon. If you could just see your way clear to renew the mortgage."

It was done. The papers were back in Davis' pocket. They had bid him a cordial good-bye from the door. Jennie cleared off the table and began to wash the dishes. John was fumbling through the papers on a hanging shelf. He finally sat down with an old tablet and pencil.

John: "I believe I'll do a little figurin' since I've got time tonight. It just struck me if I used my head a little more, I'll get on faster."

Jennie: "Well, now you might." (She polished two big apples and placed them on a saucer beside him.)

John (pleased): "Now that's what I like. Say, you look sort of pretty tonight."

Jennie (smiling): "Go along with you." But a wave of color swept up in her sallow cheeks. John had looked more grateful over her setting those two apples beside him now than he had the day last fall when she had lifted all the potatoes herself! Maybe even John had been needing something else more than he had needed the hard, back-breaking work she had been giving him!

Jennie walked to the doorway and stood looking off through the darkness. A thin, haunting breath of sweetness rose from the the bosom of her dress where she had tucked the scrap of white linen. She wished that she could somehow tell the beautiful stranger that her words had been true...that she, Jennie was going to fulfill her woman's part. She had read the real needs of John's soul from his eyes that evening. Yes, wives had to choose for their husbands sometimes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

At that very moment, speeding along the sleek macadam highway, a woman in a gray coat with a soft gray hat and a rose quill leaned suddenly close to her husband.

Husband: "Tired?"

Wife (Stranger): "I'm all right. Only, only I can't get that poor woman at the farm out of my mind. It, it was so hopeless."

Husband (smiling tenderly): "Well, I'm sorry too, but you mustn't worry. Good gracious, darling, you're not weeping over it, I hope!"

Wife (Stranger): "No, truly, just two little tears. I know it's silly, but I did so want to help her and I know that what I said sounded insane. She wouldn't know what I was talking about. She just looked up with that blank, tired face. And it all seemed so impossible. No...I'm not going to cry. Of course, I'm not...but...lend me your handkerchief, will you dear? I've lost mine somehow...."

This week I want to speak to the young people. Many of them are so concerned about the future. I have had the privilege of working with some wonderful people in my life. It has been an honor to sit at the kitchen tables of men and women who have contributed so much to our nation. Much of that time has been spent reviewing their lives from an economic perspective. In the process, I have learned many of the great lessons that guide my thinking today. Though age does not always make one smart, there is a certain wisdom that comes from having a longer-term perspective. The younger generation, full of life, ambition and energy, while also plagued by fear and uncertainty, would do well to sit down with Grandma and Grandpa and listen once in a while.

One of these great people was a certain grandfather who had grown up, as many did in his generation, without any formal education. From his youth, he was destined to make his living by the work of his hands. As he worked various jobs, his only desire was to earn an honest living and care for his family. Eventually his journey led him to a job on the railroad doing menial labor, which was far from glamorous. From outside appearances, one would have only seen a man destined to seek out a scanty living and die as broke as he began.

What an outsider would not see, but what I was intimately familiar with, was this grandfather's financial situation. While working more than 30 years for the railroad, this wise man had quietly, and with great discipline, invested a few extra dollars each week into the stocks of various companies. He could never afford to buy much, but he always bought something. Avoiding aggressive or risky investments, he focused instead on solid energy companies, manufacturing firms and bonds. His investments were then, and would still be today, what many would simply call boring.

In his old age, as I would visit with him in his modest home, we would discuss what few people knew, and that was how such a humble man with such small income had managed to assemble a portfolio that was valued in the millions. I learned from him and from so many of his generation that being wealthy has very little to do with how much you make, and everything to do with how well you spend, save and manage what you have.

To my young friends who are so concerned about the future; notice all the foreclosure signs that have dotted the fanciest neighborhoods in our country and you will learn that making and spending a lot of money does not make one rich. Recognize while you are young that time and discipline in money management can be your best friends. Learn to use them both. And go visit Grandma and Grandpa for a little advice. Though they may struggle with texting and Facebook, they are much wiser than you think.

Dan Wyson, CFP® is author of the book "21 Financial Myths" and owner of Wyson Financial. 1173 South 250 W., No. 505 St. George, 986-9525 РSecurities and Advisory services offered through LPL Financial member FINRA/SIPC.

I remember aprons; do you? I don't think our kids know what an apron is anymore. The principal use of Grandma's apron was to protect her dress, but the apron did so much more. It served as a pot holder for removing hot pans from the oven, and to wipe her brow when the weather was almost as hot as that old woodstove. When the weather was cold, Grandma wrapped the apron around her arms. It was wonderful for drying children's tears and, on occasion, was even used for cleaning out dirty ears.

From the chicken coop, the apron was used for carrying eggs, fussy chicks and sometimes half-hatched eggs to be finished in the warming oven. Wood chips and kindling were brought into the kitchen in an apron.

From the garden, it carried all sorts of vegetables. After the peas had been shelled, it carried out the hulls. In the fall, it was used to bring in apples that had fallen from the trees.

When unexpected company drove up the road, it was surprising how much furniture that old apron could dust in a matter of seconds. And aprons were ideal hiding places for shy kids. When dinner was ready, Grandma waved her apron from the porch, and the men knew it was time to come in from the fields to eat.

It will be a long time before someone invents something as useful and versatile as the old-fashioned apron.