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51 1

1964 for April

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H APPY New Year to each and all! A glad, prosperous year ahead is our wish for you. Success in your undertakings, happiness in your homes,. peace in your lives, and joy in your souls is our prayer for you. Faith in great abundance, a deep, abiding testimony, a motivating desire for greater spirituality, a stirring longing for gospel knowledge is our hope for you.

"Lift up your hearts and be glad, for I am in your midst, and am your advocate with the Father; and it is his good will to give you the kingdom." This great promise given by the Lord to the Prophet Joseph Smith is a promise to the worthy who are willing to work in his kingdom. The Lord speaks of the gospel as the "voice of gladness" and as "glad tidings of great joy." His instruction "that ye are chosen out of the world to declare my gospel with the sound of rejoicing" gives us the realization that only in righteous living is there true happiness and cause for rejoicing.

How full of joy our lives are meant to be! Yet joy and happiness are of our own making. The secret of happiness lies within us. Some do not understand that to possess happiness one must pay the price in loving kindness, in devoted service, and in uplifting goodness. All of us have experienced failures and have made mistakes. Let us bury them in the unretraceable past, keeping only the wisdom derived from such experiences to guide our future. The New Year will be prosperous and happy if we make it so.

The first day of the calendar year is one of the oldest of festivals. Its celebration is well-nigh universal. Dear sisters all over the world, as you celebrate the New Year, as is your custom, remember that our beloved Relief Society binds us together in a great, loving sister- hood. Its organization under the inspiration of our Father in heaven was for this purpose and to make us "one" in his service.

The New Year is rich in the promise of glorious opportunities. Let us make the most of them!



I have been a subscriber to The Relief Society Magazine ever since it was printed, and my mother always took the Womaris Exponent, so it is needless to say how much I appreciate the publication. It is part of my life. I have had responsibility in Relief Society almost all my adult life. I appreciate the wonderful articles and sermons in the Magazine. The poetry and stories are excellent. I have a little slogan that I think applies to Relief Society: There's a wealth of satisfaction in a labor well done, and a sense of great achievement when many work as one.

Mrs. Janette Crapo Miller St. Anthony, Idaho

Truly The Relief Society Magazine is a missionary in very deed. It has opened the door for me into conversa- tions which have led into wonderful gospel discussions with those of other faiths on many occasions. Ethel Lewis Ogden, Utah

I must thank you for the wonderful article in the October issue of The Relief Society Magazine, by Mary M. Ellsworth, "A Message to Young Mothers," a most inspiring and prac- tical article which my friends and I have enjoyed.

Mrs. Claren Jorgensen

Corte Madera, California

Thank you for the wonderful Relief Society Magazine. They are so pretty, with their colors, that they put sun- shine into my days. After we finish our lessons on the Doctrine and Cove- nants, I hope we can study another of our standard works.

Patricia A. Leader

Troy, Montana

I am especially impressed with "A Message to Young Mothers," by Mary M. Ellsworth in the October issue of The Relief Society Magazine. I am going to try hard to follow the counsel given in this article. Thanks to Sister Ellsworth for the profound wisdom she displays in this article. Her lovely family is fortunate to have a mother with ideas of this kind. Also, I want to say thanks to Maxine Grimm for the article on "Ironing Out the Wrin- kles," and I have been trying to use my ironing time to iron out my weak- nesses.

Joan Garrard

Oakland, California

Many thanks for The Relief Society Magazine and Mary M. Ellsworth for the inspiring "Message to Young Mothers" in the October issue. Most of us try to grasp and absorb frag- ments of wisdom to help us over our trying times, but these fragments are sometimes hard to find and to call to mind when we really need them. So here we have been given a whole store- house of practical help which I, for one, am going to keep in front of me to memorize and draw upon when the need arises.

Nina Panes Scarborough Ontario, Canada

I wish it were possible for the sisters who write all the wonderful things in our Magazine to visit the Relief So- cieties and let us meet them. Our Magazine could not possibly be the help and inspiration it is to so many mothers, old and young, if it were not for our wonderful sisters who are planning for our benefit. To me the Magazine is a messenger, bringing a message of courage, help, and good will.

—Lola B. Walker Monterey, California

The Relief Society Magazine


Editor Marianne C. ShEirp Associate Editor Vesta P. Crawford General Manager Belle S. Spafford

Special Features

1 Happy New Year! General Presidency

4 Purpose of the Relief Society Joseph Fielding Smith

6 John Fitzgerald Kennedy

8 Award Winners Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest

9 The First to Go First Prize Poem Alice Morrey Bailey

10 Verdure Second Prize Poem Hazel Loomis

11 Quo Vadis? Third Prize Poem Margery S. Stewart

13 Award Winners Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest

14 Moment of Trust First Prize Story Mary Ek Knowles 25 The New March of Dimes The National Foundation

35 What Is a Work Meeting Leader? Sylvia Lundgren


20 Carol's Christmas Adelle Ashhy

29 The Lost Star Hazel K. Todd

43 Kiss of the Wind Chapter 7 Rosa Lee Lloyd

General Features

2 From Near and Far

25 Woman's Sphere Ramona W. Cannon

26 Editorial: The Day of the Lamanite Marianne C. Sharp 28 Notes to the Field: Bound Volumes of the 1963 Magazines

50 Notes From the Field: Relief Society Activities Hulda Parker

80 Birthday Congratulations

The Hoi. •'"'* Ou?

37 Playtime Recipes Janet W. Breeze

38 Ear Huggers Are Nice Shirley Thulin

40 Stretching the Food Budget Part IV Dried Beans

Marion Bennion and Sadie O. Morris 42 Delia Gleed's Hobby Is Making Gifts

Lessons for April

57 Theology Missionary Service Roy W. Doxey

62 Visiting Teacher Message "Wherefore, Be Not Weary in Well-Doing"

Christine H. Robinson 64 Work Meeting Planning the Family Wardrobe Virginia F. Cutler 66 Literature Sinclair Lewis, American Self-Satirist Briant S. Jacobs 72 Social Science The Opportunity and Responsibility of a Calling in Church Government Ariel S. Ballif


Give Me These, by Elsie F. Parton, 5; Exile, by Gilean Douglas, 49; First Heartaches, by Gladys Hesser Burnham, 79; Camoes, by Dorothy J. Roberts, 79; Precious Moment, by Verda P. BoUschweiler, 79.

The Cover: Winter in Grand Canyon, Arizona, by Claire W. Noall, lithographed in full color by Deseret News Press; Frontispiece: Snow and Shadows, by Harold M. Lambert; Art Ijayout by Dick Scopes; Illustrations by Mary Scopes.

Published monthly by THE GENERAL BOARD OF RELIEF SOCIETY of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. © 1963 by the Relief Society General Board Association. Editorial and Business Office: 76 North Main, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111; Phone EMpire 4-2511; Subscriptions 2642; Editorial Dept. 2654. Subscription Price $2.00 a yeor; foreign, $2.00 a year; 20c a copy, payable in ad- vance. The Magazine is not sent after subscription expires. No back numbers can be supplied. Renew promptly so that no copies will be missed. Report change of address at once, giving old and new address. Entered as second-class matter February 18, 1914, at the Post Office, Salt Lake City, Utah, under the Act of March 3, 1879. Acceptance for mailing at special rate of postage provided for in section 1103, Act of October 8, 1917, authorized June 29, 1918. Manuscripts will not be returned unless return postage is enclosed. Rejected manuscripts will be retoined for six months only. The Magazine is not responsible for unsolicited manuscripts.

Purpose of the Relief Society

President Joseph Fielding Smith of The Council of the Twelve

[Address Delivered at the Relief Society Annual General Conference,

October 2, 1963]

As I stand here looking into your faces, this brings to me wonder- ment, and I wonder if the Prophet Joseph Smith saw in vision the sight that I am beholding here this morning.

On the 17th day of March, 1842, the Prophet Joseph Smith met with a number of the sisters of the Church in Nauvoo and or- ganized them into a society which was given the name of "The Fe- male Relief Society of Nauvoo." Besides the appointment of of- ficers, the Prophet Joseph Smith gave the sisters general instruc- tions, quoting from The Book of Mormon and the Doctrine and Covenants. The detailed instruc- tion of this opening session was not recorded, but it had to do primarily with the responsibility devolving upon the sisters of the Church in the care of the poor, the sick, and the afflicted. That this organization was by revela- tion, there can be no doubt. This truth has been abundantly dem- onstrated throughout the years and today its value and necessity are abundantly attested.

No bishop in the Church could carefully and efficiently care for the many wants of his ward with- out the help that comes from this wonderful organization.

In his journal, March 24, 1842, the Prophet Joseph Smith wrote that he again met with the Relief Society. The record states that there was a very "numerous at- tendance." On this occasion the Prophet pointed out in some de- tail the purposes of the organiza- tion, saying that knowledge of the pure principles of humane, philanthropic benevolence could flow continuously from the bosoms of the sisters in behalf of strangers, the distressed, the widows and orphans, and make their hearts rejoice. He said:

Our women have always been sig- nalized for their acts of benevolence and kindness; but the cruel usage that they received from the barbarians of Missouri, has hitherto prevented their extending the hand of charity in a conspicuous manner; yet in the midst of the persecution, when the bread has been torn from their helpless offspring by their cruel oppressors, they have always been ready to open their doors to the weary traveler, to divide their scant pittance with the hungry, and from their robbed and impoverished wardrobes, to divide with the more needy and destitute; and now that they are living upon a more genial soil, and among a less barbarous people, and possess facilities that they have not heretofore enjoyed, we feel convinced that with their concentrated efforts, the condition of the suffering poor, of the stranger and the fatherless will be ameliorated (DHC IV, 567-68).


From this humble start under Christ of Latter-day Saints never

the most difficult conditions, could have been cpmpletely or-

when the membership of the ganized.

Church was small, we have seen We, the Brethren of the this Society grow until it spreads Church, honor and respect our over most of the civilized coun- good sisters for their unselfish tries of the world. The good that devotion to this glorious cause, has been accomplished in the We stand to lend encouragement care of the poor, care of the sick and in every way possible to lend and the afflicted, and those who assistance where assistance is re- are in physical, mental, or spirit- quired for the success of the ual need, will never correctly be j^glief Societies of the Church, known. This, however, need not Qur prayers ascend in your be- be our concern. The main mterest ^^^^ ^ ^^^ .^^ ^f ^j^^ Lord

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with the true spirit of the gospel courage in this wonderful depart-

of Jesus Christ. It is clear to see ment of the Church, I humbly

that without this wonderful or- pray in the name of the Lord,

ganization. The Church of Jesus Jesus Christ, Amen.

Give Me ^i^ese

Elsie F. Parton

Give me a pen, the ardent pen of hope,

That I may write no word of doubting fear,

That weak men may be strengthened in their trust

And strong men stand convincing and sincere.

Oh, give to me the fallen crumbs of faith

That lie unheeded on the marbled floor.

That I may mold them into firmer shape

And give them power, greater than before.

Give me a pen, the ardent pen of hope.

That glowing words may rouse some weary mind

And light the flames of courage in some breast

When hopeless eyes have made the vision blind.

Oh, give to me the scattered crumbs of hope

That I may place them in a crystal bowl

And find in each, a gleaming ray of light

To brighten and enrich the downcast soul.

Give me a pen engraved with charity.

That I may write with eloquence my part

And give to men a symphony of love,

A joyful melody within the heart.

Give me a spacious world that I may plant

In fertile soil, the leaven of these three.

Where men may reap the fruitage of these vines

Strong faith, firm hope, and boundless charity.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy

On Friday, November 22, 1963, while riding in an open car in Dallas, Texas, President John Fitzgerald Kennedy, age forty-six, was shot and fatally wounded. His young wife Jacqueline Bouvier Ken- nedy was in the car with him. President Kennedy, a native of New England, and son of a distinguished and closely knit family, was of Irish descent, the first Roman Catholic to become President of the United States, and the youngest man ever to preside as Chief Execu- tive. His untimely and tragic death cast sorrow across many nations as leaders of the Free World grieved for their departed champion. A sad symbol of lost leadership was the riderless horse which followed the caisson in the processions of the final rites.

Mrs. Kennedy, thirty-four, mother of two living children, Caro- line, six, and John F. Kennedy, Jr., three, evidenced great devotion, self- control, and courage of a high order during the days of mourning

and the final rites. She walked behind the flag-draped casket on its journey from the White House to St. Matthew's Cathedral, as did some other members of the family and the visiting heads of States. At the graveside she lighted a torch which is to burn perpetually at the head of the grave.

Immediately following the announcement of President Kennedy's death, President David O. McKay of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints issued a statement for the Church:

''I am deeply grieved and shocked beyond expression at this tragedy. In behalf of the Church in all the world I express sincere sympathy to Mrs. Kennedy and children and all of the close relatives and friends. The entire nation feels a sense of humiliation that such a tragedy could come to a President of the United States. Only a few weeks ago it was our privilege to entertain the President and now to think that he has gone we are stunned as well as shocked. It is terrible to think that such a tragedy could occur in this age of the world. Our prayers go in sincere and earnest appeal to the Almighty that he will comfort the nation in this hour of tragic grief.''

President McKay appointed First Counselor Hugh B. Brown to represent the Church at the funeral services in Washington, D.C. In Salt Lake City, Utah, the Tabernacle Choir presented with beauty and solemnity a memorial concert, and, on the day of the funeral. President N. Eldon Tanner presided at a moving and impressive memorial service in the Tabernacle.

Thirty-fifth President of the United States 1917-1963

Vice President Lyndon Baines Johnson of Texas took the oath of office an hour and a half after the death of President Kennedy, an impressive demonstration of the wisdom of the Founding Fathers in their provision for continuity of office in the Presidency of the United States. Former Presidents of the United States, Harry S. Truman and Dwight D. Eisenhower attended the services and diplomatic representatives and heads of States from ninety-two nations.

The body of President Kennedy was laid to rest in Arlington National Cemetery, across the Potomac, not far from the Lincoln Memorial and the sad and brooding statue of the Great Emancipator.

President Kennedy's statement of courage and patriotism voiced in his Inaugural Address, less than three years before, was many times repeated: "Ask not what your country can do for you, but rather ask what you can do for your country."

The Relief Society General Board is pleased to announce the names of the three winners in the 1963 Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. This contest was announced in the May 1963 issue of The Relief Society Magazine y and closed August 15,1963.

The first prize of forty dollars is awarded to Alice Morrey Bailey, Salt Lake City, Utah, for her poem "The First to Go." The second prize of thirty dollars is awarded to Hazel Loomis, Casper, Wyoming, for her poem ''Verdure." The third prize of twenty dollars is awarded to Margery S. Stewart, Pacific Palisades, California, for her poem ''Quo Vadis."

This poem contest has been conducted annually by the Relief Society General Board since 1924, in honor of Eliza R. Snow, second General President of Relief Society, a gifted poet and inspirational leader.

The contest is open to all Latter-day Saint women, and is de- signed to encourage poetry writing and to increase appreciation for creative writing and the beauty and value of poetry.

award winners zi,^^

Prize-winning poems are the property of the General Board of Relief Society, and may not be used for publication by others except upon written permission of the General Board. The General Board reserves the right to publish any of the poems submitted, paying for them at the time of publication at' the regular Magazine rate. A writer who has received the first prize for two consecutive years must wait two years before she is again eligible to enter the contest.

Mrs. Bailey appears for the fifth time as a winner in the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest; Mrs. Loomis is a first-time winner; and Mrs. Stewart is a third-time winner.

There were 330 poems entered in the contest for 1963. Entries were received from thirty-six of the fifty states, including Hawaii, with the largest number, in order, coming from Utah, California, Idaho, Arizona, Oregon, and Washington. England, Canada, Australia, Wales, Scotland, and Peru were also represented among the entries.

The General Board congratulates the prize winners and expresses appreciation to all entrants for their interest in the contest. The General Board wishes also to thank the judges for their care and diligence in selecting the prize-winning poems. The services of the poetry committee of the General Board are very much appreciated. The prize-winning poems, together with photographs and brief high- lights on the prize-winning contestants, are published in this issue of the Magazine.


he First to Go

Alice Morrey Bailey


The valiant one has gone ahead, alone, Against all wisdom, out beyond the known, Since Adam drew the first cold, mortal breath And drank the air which yields both life and death The first to see or feel, the first to know The answer to some quest, the first to go Driven by some dream, some will to learn. Along some path which may have no return. What boon does he require, what priceless lures Are greater than his life, that he endures The desert's stretching thirst, the arctic's ice. The scorn of learned ones, the sacrifice Of dedication? What is so sublime He burns in full his precious oil of time?


The bold adventurer has combed the earth And spanned its oceans, circumscribed its girth, Sailing out beyond the dragon belt. He planted altars where his sons have knelt. And raised his nation's flag upon the poles. Each gain revealing newer, farther goals. He battered down tradition's ancient bars And looked with fear and longing on the stars. What restless blood impels a man to stand Where man has never stood, some far-off land, A towering mountain peak, an ocean floor? What instinct leads him to an unmarked door To pick and pry, to fumble and to knock Until the grudging stores of truth unlock?


The seeker after truth proclaims his find Among the bright adventures of the mind. He measures, weighs, and bends his scrutiny On unseen continents, his mutiny Is stirred by failure, death, disease and pain And one by one these enemies are slain. He forms his theories and tests their flaws And proves the mighty ways of nature's laws. His silhouette is bold against the light Of brighter dawn, and he the shining knight Whose sharp stiletto point can slit the tent Of ignorance, and through its widened rent All men may pour. And soon they, too, shall fly Among the stars for he has pierced the sky.



Hazel Loomis

So small between the pink pearls

The fire opal clouds and the mare's tail swishing high,

I ran barefoot in the curling sands.

Every part of me was Sabbath then.

Praise rose from the flesh cool shadows Fanning sun . . . the bleeding currant bushes Where I came To mother's singing steps.

Father close on prophet wheels,

Blue dancing from his eyes

To pleasant sheets of green . . . falling in swathes

With each purring round.

I ran, the sun safe in my arms, To father's chuckling boost on Jetta's back Fast strapped I now was Sweeper of the Sky Chief Rider of the Dappled Mare!

The lamb soft days with Jetta

She was lute and David Jubilee

Of hooves and hair of clinging mane my horse

And I lived there.

Time wore ribbons as I swung

From cliff to cliff

Below the green valley where weasels raced,

Snakes grew long, and dragon flies

Fanned willow fronds.

Four fingers young. I wrote my name And sifted rocks the ants had made. I watched The stovepipe for the reindeer swoop. Awaited The lingering orange and the doll with hair.

The world grew and I, too,

With barns stuffed green

With cows and buckets and milk foam

Washing the golden paths.

Night came purring on lion's feet until A coyote's siren ripped the shrouds apart And morning broke as bulls locked horns To fight it out on crimson sod, While I stood puny on the green lawn.

Ample squaws with smiling teeth

And midnight eyes

Clothed in blankets striped with fire, came

And going carried the sun . . . the stars . . . and me

To the slender road ... up the giant hill ....

Farewell, my green and gallant freedom Farewell.


Margery S. Stewart

Quo Vadis?

They say that Peter

Fleeing his cross,

Plodding through midnight

On the Appian Way,

Was halted by an angel,

Who asked gently, "Quo Vadis?

Quo Vadis, Peter?" and the words

Made a gate.

When I was a child Pondering this story I was resolute,

No two words would keep me Or hold me from going Where the cross was not, Would send me to the Irrefutable hammer and the Splintering wood.

With all my childish strength I leaned down years Urging Peter on, past angel. Past anguish . . . slow blood Rusting on the nails .... Oh, hurry, hurry, Peter! What manner of angel Brings a riddle at the hour Of one's death?

But I have learned

That all disciples come

Soon or late

To that same midnight and

The angel's cry . . .

Even I

Most shabby follower.

Quo Vadis is a gate

Opening to a touch ... to where?

To what?

Without him what way is there?

Peter's answer was his turning back.



Alice Morrey Bailey, a versatile and gifted writer, has been a repeated winner in the Relief Society literary contests. She won first prize in the short story contest the year of its initiation, 1942, and has won three times in sub- sequent years. This year's award in poetry places Mrs. Bailey as a winner for the fifth time. Other poems (many of them frontispieces) , as well as stories, articles, and three serials of hers have appeared in the Magazine. Mrs. Bailey is a member of the Sonneteers (a poetry workshop), the Utah Poetry Society, and the League of Utah Writers, in which she has served as chapter president and a member of many executive committees. She has been a judge in several literary contests and a featured speaker at various conventions.

Her many other talents and abilities include sculpture, music, painting, secretarial and administrative work, and nursing.

Mrs. Bailey's Church work has included positions in all the women's auxiliaries. She is the wife of DeWitt Bailey, and they have three children and twelve grandchildren.

Hazel Loomis, a well-known Wyoming author, has been represented in The Relief Society Magazine by many outstanding poems. She was born in Verdure, Utah, and grew up in Monticello. She attended Brigham Young University as well as other universities. Mrs. Loomis has been twice married. Her first husband was killed in an accident, and she is now married to Ray Loomis, a chemical engineer, who has a son in the graduate school at Denver University. Mrs. Loomis is an active member of the Casper Writers Club, and is interested also in music and art. Her writings have appeared in magazines of National circulation, and she writes short stories and plays, as well as poems. Active in positions of leadership in the Church, Mrs. Loomis is at present the stake literature class leader in Relief Society and is also a Sunday School teacher.

IVIargery S. Stewart, a former Utahn, now lives in Pacific Palisades, California, where she is actively engaged in Church work and in literary activities. Her daughter Sandra Phelps and five grandchildren live nearby, and a son Russell Stewart, Jr. is a student at Santa Monica City College. A former member of the League of Utah Writers, and a present member in absentia of the Son- neteers, Mrs. Stewart is affiliated with the Ina Coolbrith Poetry Circle of California and recently won first prize in their annual contest. She also writes plays and articles.

Mrs. Stewart has been represented in The Relief Society Magazine by frontispiece poems, articles, stories, and several excellent serials. She has won awards twice in the Relief Society Short Story Contest, and three times in the Eliza R. Snow Poem Contest. Her work has appeared in poetry anthologies, in magazines of National circulation, and she has achieved high rating in many contests. Mrs. Stewart expresses her love of literature as a continuing joy: "I have enjoyed the associations I have gained through writing and the constant challenge and delight of this form of expression."


The Relief Society General Board is pleased to announce the award winners in the Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest, which was announced in the May 1963 issue of the Magazine, and which closed August 15, 1963.

The first prize of seventy-five dollars is awarded to Mary Ek Knowles, Ogden, Utah, for her story ''Moment of Trust." The second prize of sixty dollars is awarded to Lael J. Littke, Monterey Park, California, for her story ''Mama Lives in the Kitchen." The third prize of fifty dollars is awarded to Myrtle M. Dean, Provo, Utah, for her story "Someone to Cheer for Johnny."

The Annual Relief Society Short Story Contest was first con- ducted by the Relief Society General Board in 1942, as a feature of the Relief Society Centennial observance, and was made an annual contest in 1943. The contest is open to Latter-day Saint women who have had at least one literary composition published or accepted for publication in a periodical of recognized merit.

award winners


The three prize-winning stories will be published consecutively in the first three issues of The Relief Society Magazine for 1964.

Seventy-three stories, the largest number ever submitted, were entered in the contest for 1963, including submissions from Canada, Australia, Wales, and England. Mrs. Knowles is a fifth-time winner in the contest; Mrs. Littke is a first-time winner; and Mrs. Dean is a fourth-time winner.

The contest was initiated to encourage Latter-day Saint women to express themselves in the field of fiction. The General Board feels that the response to this opportunity continues to increase the literary quality of The Relief Society Magazine and aids the women of the Church in the development of their gifts in creative writing.

Prize-winning stories are the property of the General Board of Relief Society and may not be used for publication by others except upon written permission from the General Board. The General Board reserves the right to publish any of the other stories submitted, paying for them at the time of publication at the regular Magazine rate. A writer who has received the first prize for two consecutive years must wait for two years before she is again eligible to enter the contest.



of Trust

Mary Ek Knowles

First Prize- Winning Story

Annual Relief Society

Short Story Contest

Bud came to Donna while she was fixing Patti's hair in rollers and listening to her read from the third grade reader. He asked, *'Mom, can you let me have five bucks tomorrow?"

Donna had hoped that this moment would not come. She was aware of her son towering over her, tall and handsome with his brown eyes and crew cut. Bud was only sixteen but he had al- ways acted quite adult and sensible until he fell in love with pretty Candy Thompson.

'Tive dollars!" she cried, stall- ing for time, wishing that Sheldon was not in Portland on business. He would handle this problem calmly. She was inclined to be- come emotional. Her head was already beginning to ache.

"Whatever for. Bud?"

''The Spring Hop is tomorrow night and I'm broke." There was almost a note of surprise in Bud's voice.

Donna remembered that for over a month, ever since Bud

earned fifteen dollars helping Mr. Brown move to his new hardware store, both she and Sheldon had been warning him, ''Remember to save your money for the big dance."

And she remembered with a hot rush of anger the way Bud had said casually, "Ah, don't worry. Mom. I know what I'm doing," as he continued to spend and spend money on popular Candy.

Now she said firmly, "Your father and I warned you that if you spent your money foolishly, you would have to take the con- sequences."

"But, Mom!" his voice cracked a little. "Things came up . . , ."

"Like malts and hamburgers at Hoddy's," she interrupted, "and sessions at the bowling alley and two trips to the city."

"But, Mom, if you want to keep a popular girl like Candy, you have to show her a good time!"

She remembered that this was


Bud's first girl and she felt her- self weakening. Then she shook her head. "Candy knows you aren't the son of a millionaire but you have acted like one. In addi- tion to the fifteen dollars, you have spent your weekly allow- ance. ..."

"You won't let me have the five bucks, then?"

"No, Bud." She turned her head because she could not stand to see the white stricken look on his face, and there was a pound- ing in her forehead.

"I've got to get five bucks somewhere!" There was despera- tion in his voice as he walked out of the room.

Patti asked, "Isn't Bud going to take Candy to the dance?"

"He can't, Patti. He has spent all of his money."

"But, Mommy, Candy has a new dress for the dance. Joy told me." Joy was Candy's nine-year-

old sister. "A white dress with yards and yards of fluffy white stuff in the skirt." Patti sighed. "Candy's awfully beautiful and popular."

And Bud is so completely daffy about her that he's knocked off his even keel, Donna worried. Maybe Candy would never date him again; and Bud he had always taken discipline like a man, but this was different. Now someone would have to suffer because of him.

She finished the last roller. "Off to bed, darling," she said.

"Did I read all right, Mommy?" she asked.

"You read beautifully." She kissed her small daughter, think- ing how uncomplicated were problems with a nine-year-old.

It was after eleven when she went to bed, but she couldn't sleep. Once she almost telephoned



Sheldon in Portland, but he would not relent, either. They had always been firm with Bud, knowing he was in that diffi- cult age where he was constantly testing them, demanding more and more that they give in to him, yet unconsciously, inconsist- ently, hoping they wouldn't give in, so that in a world where true values are taken lightly, he could depend on their unshakeable dis- cipline.

At breakfast Bud looked so worried that her heart ached for him. She wanted desperately to give him the money. What was five dollars! But she knew it wasn't the money involved. He must take the consequences of his mistakes to become a mature, responsible adult.

Bud got up from the table and a few minutes later when she lifted the receiver to telephone her grocery order, she heard him talking to Freddie Smith. She heard Freddie say, "So I charge high interest!" The gang resented Freddie. They called him Shylock because he demanded his pound of flesh for each penny loaned. Bud was really desperate if he would appeal to Freddie for a loan!

Mrs. Olafson, the cleaning woman, came then and Donna went with her to the basement to give instructions. When she came back upstairs, Bud had his jacket on. He said, ''Mom, listen. I . . ." And then Mrs. Olafson called from the basement. Donna went to the top of the stairs to

see what she wanted, and when she returned Bud was gone.

She was extremely busy after that. She was in the presidency of the Relief Society, and she called the members of the lunch- eon committee in regards to the opening luncheon and social. At eleven she was going to the ward to quilt, and so she prepared an oven meal for dinner, but busy or not, all the time she was hurry- ing and working she worried about Bud. How would he handle the situation with Candy!

She was quilting when she discovered her coin purse was missing. Marge Griffin asked if someone had change for a dollar. Donna said, 'T have twenty dol- lars worth of change," and reached into her black leather bag. There was no coin purse.

She began a frantic search, taking everything out of the large bag. Marge said, "Never mind. Sister Stacey has it." Donna said, "Oh . . . fine." And she sat there, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, retracing her move- ments since the day before.

She had gone to town and shopped. As she neared home she remembered that the cleaner would be returning Sheldon's slacks. She had stopped at Car- ter's grocery store and had the twenty dollar bill changed.

She could remember hastily cramming the bills and small change into her large coin purse. The cleaner had driven up just as she stopped the car. She had



paid him a dollar bill and forty the front steps but found nothing, cents. Then she had gone into And then, as she took her door the house, carried her handbag to key out of her handbag, she re- the bedroom. Then Sister Land- membered seeing the plastic coin ley had telephoned to ask the purse in her handbag when she name of the poem that the stake had gone through the same mo- Relief Society president had read tions the day before, at the monthly leadership meet- Maybe, absent-mindedly, once ing. she was in the house, she had put Donna could see herself carry- the purse somewhere else. She ing the bag into the hallway, plac- began a thorough search through ing it on the table, and taking out drawers, coat pockets, jackets, the slip of paper on which she cupboards, the linen closet, had written the name and author She pushed back her dark hair of the poem. She had left the with a trembling hand. Maybe bag there while she had checked her memory was playing tricks, a book of poems in the library to She could have thought she put see if she had that particular the coin purse in her bag, but poem. The purse was still on the instead had left it at Carter's, hallway table until she left this She could even have paid the noon. She thought. Bud would cleaner with loose change from have seen it when he telephoned the bottom of her handbag. Freddie. The contents were She hurried out and walked tumbled about, the money quite the half block to the store. Mrs. visible in the transparent plastic Carter distinctly remembered her coin purse. putting the coin purse in her bag. But Bud would never steal It had been a crazy hope. She had from me! She quickly pushed the known all the time she had paid thought out of her mind, horrified the cleaner with loose change at such disloyalty. from the coin purse in her hand- But where was the coin purse! bag. Her handbag was one of the new. She walked slowly home, large carry-all type, with straps. Candy Thompson came towards open at the top. Her arms had her. Candy was so young and been loaded with bundles. Maybe pretty with her glossy blond hair after she paid the cleaner she had and blue eyes. ''Mrs. Gardner," thought she was dropping the she said gaily, "will you please coin purse into her handbag, but tell Bud to call for me at seven instead had dropped it on the tonight? We're going to double ground. date with Betty and Archie."

"I'll tell him. Candy." Donna

She hurried from the ward to smiled stiffly and hurried home,

her home, and once there she afraid she was going to burst into

looked carefully from the curb to tears, remembering Bud saying



desperately, "I've got to get five bucks somewhere!"

But if he did succumb to temp- tation, he would only take five dollars, not the coin purse. But maybe there hadn't been time to do anything but grab the purse. Could he have hastily hidden it somewhere? She went to Bud's room. Her heart sank when she saw the closet in confusion, as if things had been hastily moved to find something, or to hide something. She had always re- spected her children's privacy, but now she searched everywhere for the purse, hating herself.

Finally, trembling with exhaus- tion, she gave up, went to her room, and sank down on the bed. The evidence against Bud con- fronted her and she cried quietly. It was her fault Bud was a thief. She should have let him earn the money. The attic needed clean- ing. There were any number of jobs he could have done. She heard the front door open and Bud's and Patti's voices. Should she accuse Bud? Or would he admit the theft on his own? What had he wanted to tell her this morning? She heard music. She walked