On the 10th Day of Christmas Past… Question: What can we learn from Elder Wirthlin’s experience on Christmas Eve in Oberndorf, Austria? To be entered into today’s daily giveaway & FREE tour drawing- Read the story below; “Comment” & “Share” your answer on Facebook or our blog. Click Here for contest rules. “Silent Night, Holy Night” By Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin I had always dreamed of playing football at the university level, and during my freshman, sophomore, and junior years, I wore a crimson uniform and played running back. At that time, the world tottered on the brink of chaos. It was as though the entire world groaned in a volcano that had to erupt, that ultimately would erupt. Before it was over, every nation, every people felt the effects of those dark days. I remember the day my father came to me. It was just after the 1936 football season had ended. “Joseph,” he said, “Do you want to go on a mission?” I told him I did. “Then you must go now,” he said. “If you wait any longer, you’ll never go.” I didn’t want to believe him. I wanted to pursue my dream of continuing to play football and to graduate from the university. If I were to accept a mission call, I would have to give up everything. In those days a mission call was 30 months long, and I knew if I accepted, there was a good chance I would never play football again—perhaps I would not even be able to graduate. But I also knew what my father had said was true. I went to tell my bishop that now was the time. A few months later I stepped aboard the SS Manhattan and began a long voyage that would take me into the heart of the world crisis. My mission call was to the German/Austrian Mission. My first field of labor was in Salzburg, Austria. The mission was shorthanded, and not long after I arrived, my companion was transferred to another district in the mission. Soon I found myself alone in Salzburg, a young missionary in a strange, new country. Six weeks I was alone. Six weeks I waited for a companion. Six weeks I wondered about what I might be doing had I stayed in Salt Lake City and continued my studies. A large army of Hitler’s Third Reich was gathering just over the border, not 20 miles from Salzburg. Everywhere you went you could sense a mounting tension in the air. No one knew if tomorrow would be the day the panzer tanks would flood across the border. I remember those days well. I don’t suppose there has been a time in my life when I felt more discouraged, more lost. The mission was a difficult one; no one seemed to have time for me or the message I brought. I wondered if there would ever be enough members...
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Answer 9th Day Christmas Past: Joseph was silently strong and instrumental in teaching our Savior ultimately what He was to become. Congrats to 9th Day drawing winner, LINDA LARSON, who won 2 books by Karl Ricks Anderson: Joseph Smith’s Kirtland and The Savior in Kirtland, set of 4 olive wood carved tree ornaments, pack of watercolor Christmas cards, pack of 10 5×7 Nauvoo watercolor note cards-$95 value! Please contact MHA office 801-272-5601 or info@mormonheritage.com within 30 days to arrange for how to receive your prize. Story still available on yesterday’s...
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On the 9th Day of Christmas Past… Question: What can we learn from Joseph as pondered in today’s story? To be entered into today’s daily giveaway & FREE tour drawing- Read the story below; “Comment” & “Share” your answer on Facebook or our blog. Click Here for contest rules. Maybe Christmas Doesn’t Come from a Store by Elder Holland “…As a father I have recently begun to think more often of Joseph, that strong, silent, almost unknown man who must have been more worthy than any other mortal man to be the guiding foster father of the living Son of God. It was Joseph selected from among all men who would teach Jesus to work. It was Joseph who taught Him the books of the law. It was Joseph who, in the seclusion of the shop, helped Him begin to understand who He was and ultimately what He was to become. I was a student at BYU just finishing my first year of graduate work when our first child, a son, was born. We were very poor, though not so poor as Joseph and Mary. My wife and I were both going to school, both holding jobs, and in addition worked as head residents in an off-campus apartment complex to help defray our rent. We drove a little Volkswagen which had a half-dead battery because we couldn’t afford a new one (Volkswagen or battery). Nevertheless, when I realized that our own night of nights was coming, I believe I would have done any honorable thing in this world, and mortgaged any future I had, to make sure my wife had the clean sheets, the sterile utensils, the attentive nurses, and the skilled doctors who brought forth our firstborn son. If she or that child had needed special care at the Mayo Clinic, I believe I would have ransomed my very life to get it. I compare those feelings (which I have had with each succeeding child) with what Joseph must have felt as he moved through the streets of a city not his own, with not a friend or kinsman in sight, nor anyone willing to extend a helping hand. In these very last and most painful hours of her “confinement,” Mary had ridden or walked approximately 100 miles from Nazareth in Galilee to Bethlehem in Judea. Surely Joseph must have wept at her silent courage. Now, alone and unnoticed, they had to descend from human company to a stable, a grotto full of animals, there to bring forth the Son of God. I wonder what emotions Joseph might have had as he cleared away the dung and debris. I wonder if he felt the sting of tears as he hurriedly tried to find the cleanest straw and hold the animals back. I wonder if he wondered: “Could there be a more unhealthy, a more disease-ridden, a more despicable circumstance in which a...
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Answer 8th Day Christmas Past: Through a purely honest Christmas Eve hug from a friend, it was easy to imagine what it would be like to get a hug from the Savior. Congrats to 8th Day drawing winner, JEFFREY ABRAHAM, who won an Olive wood Holy Family flight to Egypt carving, Nauvoo replica candle lantern, pack of 10 5×7 Nauvoo watercolor note cards, Nauvoo Temple sunstone replica tree ornament-$143 value! Please contact MHA office 801-272-5601 or info@mormonheritage.com within 30 days to arrange for how to receive your prize. Story still available on yesterday’s...
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On the 8th Day of Christmas Past… Question: How did a severely injured man experience what it must be like to get a hug from the Savior? To be entered into today’s daily giveaway & FREE tour drawing- Read the story below; “Comment” & “Share” your answer on Facebook or our blog. Click Here for contest rules. A Christmas Hug In July 1997 a serious accident completely crushed my pelvis and midsection and left me blind. I spent five long months on my back in the hospital, able to move only my head and my right arm. Only through priesthood blessings, fasting, and prayers was my life spared. The hospital discharged me in December, though I was bedridden for months. On Christmas Eve, the doorbell rang. It was 15-year-old Spencer and his mom. Spencer and I had been acquainted since he was a Cub Scout. As I helped out with the den, I soon realized that Spencer, who had Down syndrome, often needed one-on-one attention. We had a lot of fun and became good buddies. My wife led Spencer and his mom into the room where I was lying. He came to my bedside, bent down, and embraced me. He began to tear up but kept himself in check. I wasn’t as strong as Spencer—I couldn’t hold back my tears. He kissed me on the cheek. On each subsequent Christmas Eve the doorbell would ring, and it was always Spencer there to give me my Christmas hug. Spencer’s hugs were pure, sincere, and honest. There was nothing superficial about them. As Spencer hugged me, I felt his Christlike love and imagined what it would be like to get a hug from the Savior. One Christmas Eve, Spencer’s mom told us that Spencer had been to Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City—Spencer needed a new heart and lung. The doctors were concerned that his body would reject the organs or that he wouldn’t make it through the surgery. They predicted that without the surgeries, he would live anywhere from three to eight more years. The family decided to decline the surgery. About three years later, in the arms of his stepdad, 19-year-old Spencer quietly slipped from mortality. A few months after Spencer passed away, Christmas Eve came and our doorbell rang. It was Spencer’s parents and sweet little sisters, there to give me Christmas hugs. Each Christmas since, they have come. One day it will be my time to go through the veil. I hope that when that time comes, Spencer will be one of those waiting for me with arms outstretched, ready to give me a hug full of Christlike love. Taken from: Ensign 12/2015, A Christmas Hug, by Ed...
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