When I arrived at Grandma's house on Tuesday evening (May 6), she had waited dinner for me and the second I walked in the door she threw the chicken in the oven. That gave us 30 minutes of quiet time together to just talk (Royce was down in the office). I love those moments with my Mother because I always gleen something wonderful. This time she was telling me a story I had never heard before about her and Grandpa.
They had met in the fall of 1944 in Cedar City. Mom was teaching there and Dad was in the area doing rare minerals research for the war effort. They had been dating and had quite fallen in love with each other through the fall. Mom wanted Dad to come to Wyoming (to the ranch at Star Valley where my Grandparents lived) for part of the Christmas holidays. She was not sure that it would work financially, but she invited him anyway and said that she would really like him to come up to Wyoming and be with her and her family for a few days after Christmas. He accepted the invitation.
She said that it was a very heavy winter that year and the snow was deep. One night, after Dad had been there for a few nights, they decided to take a long walk to a nearby town. They just wanted to be alone together. So, off they went. They didn't want anyone to see them along the road so any time an occasional car would come by (this was at night) they would jump into the deep snow on their backs and just lay there until the lights of the car would pass.
Dad came from a very inactive family in the Church. He was now around the Facers who were very much the opposite. As they walked hand-in-hand together that night, Dad said to Mom, "This is the kind of family I want to have. Ones who love the Gospel, who love the Lord and His Prophet, and who have family prayers and read the scriptures and go to Church." I felt the Spirit so strongly as Grandma was telling me this because I realized that this conversation, that night, affected my entire upbringing. They both talked and talked as they made their way those many miles in the snow and decided on what kind of parents they wanted to be. Within the week, Grandpa proposed to Grandma--and she said YES!
I love that scene and that story and I'm so deeply grateful that on that walk, that night, in the last week of December of 1944, this precious young couple decided how they were going to raise me and my brothers. It fills me with joy.