Saturday, April 19, 2014

He Lives

                                       HE LIVES

He lived, and died and lived again,
As was foretold by prophets’ pen,
For at meridian of time,
The Christ was born and lived to prime;

He came to John and was baptized,
Then called the twelve and organized
His kingdom on the earth, and said
To seek it first, not wealth instead.

His enemies prevailed at last—
Thought Jesus’ influence was past.
His body, slain, was laid to rest;
But on the third day was the test—

For Christ arose, up from the dead,
Full flesh and bones, for as he said,
“Please come handle me and see—
A spirit’s not as ye see me.”

He lived, and died, and lived again,
As witnessed gospel writers’ pen,
And since he lives, we too shall see
The resurrection’s blessings free—

He paid the price for all mankind,
And we shall leave that grave behind.
Moreover, with repentant mind,
Enduring to the end, we’ll find

That spiritual death may be o’ercome,
And we may dwell in His kingdom.
He lived, and died, and lived again,
And set the pattern for all men—

Hopefully we’ll all be there,
Celestial blessings with Him share,
Through Him salvation’s for all men—
We live, we’ll die, and live again.

                                 -- Jay M. Richardson

Friday, April 18, 2014


  The picture was  taken on September 13, 1982 of those going to the Scout  Jamboree "High on the Mountain Top" and wearing the scout jamboree uniform.  It was  taken during our home evening.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Ten Lepers

Ten lepers, standing off afar,
Their desperate hopes revealed-
To Jesus called, “Have mercy, Lord,
Oh please, can we be healed?”
And Jesus said, “Go show yourselves
Unto the priests,” and then,
As those poor lepers went their way,
They were all cleansed, all ten.
But one, a poor Samaritan,-
He stopped, and left their ranks,
Returned, and fell at Jesus feet,
Praised God, and gave Him thanks.
Said Christ, “Where are the other nine?
Art thou the only one
To render glory unto God?
Were there not ten, my son?”
“Thy faith hath made thee whole this day—
Thine attributes include,
Thou art a stranger here,
The gift of gratitude.”
Dear brethren, sisters, aren’t we all
Like lepers, all unclean?
Have not all sinned and fallen short?
Cannot our faults be seen?
Yet God forgives and bless us,
Atones for all we do—
Repentance is the only fee
He asks of me and you.
Against none is His wrath kindled,
Saith He, the King of Kings,
Save those who fail to acknowledge
His hand work in all things.
And how we ought to thank Him, not
Just with mere platitude,
But by the way we live express
Sincere, deep gratitude.
Ah, may we be the one’s who’ll praise
Our God in ways so fine,
But ne’er of those of whom He asks
“Where are the other nine?”

--Jay M. Richardson

Monday, April 14, 2014

Memories of Snowflake, by Lavona Richardson


Essay submitted by Lavona Flake Richardson for Centennial Publication
July 24, 1978


My memories of Snowflake are that of a quiet little town, with tree lined streets and irrigation ditches.  All the activities revolved around the church. During my growing up years of 1940’s and 1950’s there was just one ward and we were just one big happy family.  I remember my lament in high school that almost all the young people were my relatives.   We called all the older people Aunt and Uncle if they were related or not.

My love for music was nurtured by the emphasis that all the Snowflake schools and townspeople put on music.  Rufus Crandall and Miss Laverne as we affectionately called her, helped our beginning piano skills along with Annella Hall, who could always inspire us by her talents.  As early as 7th grade my memories include trips to Flagstaff to the Music Festival where Snowflake always came home with superior ratings.  Our band was also invited to participate at the Arizona State Fair and A.S.U. Homecoming parades.  Snowflake was known during these years throughout the State of Arizona for having good music programs.  We were always blessed with good music directors because of the support and encouragement given by the townspeople.  The cultural arts were important to Snowflake.  We put on some lovely musicals during my high school days.  School was dismissed for those in the production (the cast, chorus and orchestra) as we all trekked down to the Cultural Hall at the Church to practice.  During my growing up years in Snowflake the church, community, and school events were all intertwined together.

Another memory of my life in Snowflake was the interest the townspeople took in each one of us.  Mother had lots of help in raising her twins.  Leona and I were the only twins in Snowflake during our elementary and high school days and everyone had a different idea on whether we should dress alike or run around together.  Now as I look back I am grateful for the love and concern for our welfare shown by so many neighbors in Snowflake.  I am sure there was similar interest shown in each of the young people growing up there.

As a teenager Founder’s Day Celebrations held on or near July 24th each year was always looked forward to.  These events added a little excitement to the summer and brought in new people.  Members are of marching with the band in the parades, pioneer programs barbecues, rodeos, ball games and dances on the pavilion.  Otherwise the entertainment most usually consisted of Wednesday and Saturday night shows at the Show House where entrance was determined by payment to the Ward Budget.

There are also memories of picking cucumbers during the summer, watching the floods rise in our fields east of town, the annual wood dance held at Thanksgiving time to provide wood for the widows and baking pies for it.  Other memories are basketball games held in the old gym west of the old seminary building, dances in front of the gym, wiener roasts on the hill, burning cedar trees, picking green beans at the welfare garden, going to Kay’s Restaurant for a special treat, seeing lots of men and boys visiting in front of Ballard Brothers Garage, and wide streets, and friendly homes with gardens and barns at the back.

Tuesday, April 8, 2014

The Fire

The Fire
by Marlene Ellingson

     I must have been about 13 or 14 years old when one day I was making no-bake cookies on the stove. A fire started in the pan of oil, and thinking, “Fire--Water,” I quickly dumped water into the pan, which of course made the fire burst out larger. Screaming, I ran out and Dad came in and grabbed the pan, taking it outside to put out the fire. It was all very traumatic for a young girl, and I felt bad, but got over it quick enough. I was vaguely aware that Dad had gotten hurt somehow, since he wore suspenders instead of belts for a time, and Sister Charlotte Wiehrdt came over to help him treat the burn. Still, when I talked to Dad about it, apologizing for my foolishness, he just expressed praise and thanks to the Lord for preserving his hands, which received no injury, since he needed his hands to do dental work each day. And praise to the Lord for sending an angel like Sister Wiehrdt to help him through the long healing process.
     It wasn’t until many years later, when thinking back on the incident, that I put two and two together and realized, I was that cause of some intense suffering for Dad. Also, there must have been an insurance claim and repairs in the kitchen of the smoke damage that surely occurred—but I have little or no memory of that either. What is the miracle to me is that Dad and Mom never made me feel guilty! They didn’t blame or lecture or even associate any of this trial as being my fault, which it was. Instead, leaving my self-esteem in tact, at a tender age, they disassociated the burn with a careless young girl who should have known better. Nor did they discourage me from cooking, but quite the contrary. What amazing parents, to absorb the emotion of the pain and trial, and let the mistake just be forgotten. They let only praise for the goodness of the Lord be remembered.
     My parents lived this counsel that the prophet gave us Sunday:
"We must be careful that we do not destroy another person's confidence through careless words or actions." Thomas S. Monson

Monday, April 7, 2014

"Proud of You", by Minnie K. Stratton

Poem written by Minnie K. Stratton (Irene Flake's mother) to her grandchildren, great grandchildren and great-great grandchildren:

                          PROUD OF YOU

I love my grandchildren each and every one,
My great-grandchildren, too, for things they've done,
The great-great-grandchildren are precious to me,
I'm proud of a most wonderful posterity.

For so many kindnesses you have done each day
To help make easier and happier my way
For your cards, and letters, and flowers and love,
I'm grateful for you to our Father above.

I'm proud of the lives you are living, that show
Your desire to choose the right as you go.
I'm grateful for your love and for each family tie
That has brought happiness to me as each year
  has gone by.

I'm proud of the girls and the things they know,
For learning to teach and to cook and to sew,
You've made homes full of joy for your families
Which will bring great blessings to you every

I'm proud of the boys for their schooling and
For doing their duty without trying to shirk,
For the teachings you've had to help you live right,
To make for you and your families a future bright.

I'm proud of the missions that the boys and girls
  too have filled
Going to work wherever our Father in Heaven willed,
I'm grateful that each of you has done your part
To help take the gospel to the honest in heart.

My prayers are for you each and every day,
May you be blessed all along your way.
Please know as you count your blessings in store,
You could never have a grandmother who could
  love you more.
                                             --May 1965

Saturday, April 5, 2014

What Shall I Do With Jesus?

                 WHAT SHALL I DO WITH JESUS?
“What shall I do with Jesus?” mighty Pontius Pilate said,
“I find no fault in him, but it’s the people that I dread!
“I cannot set him free, and yet, I cannot have him die.
I’ll wash my hands of him, I guess,” said Pilate, with a sigh.
“What shall I do with Jesus?” King Agrippa thought, when Paul
Explained the Gospel, though in chains in Caesarea’s hall.
“Almost I am persuaded to be a Christian now.
(But what would people think if I accepted Christ somehow?)”
What shall I do with Jesus?  There’s a question for us all!
Do we follow Him completely, as did Apostle Paul?
Or do we wash our hands of Him when we’re among the crowd,
Like Pilate or Agrippa, the powerful and proud?
Said Christ, “I would thou wert all hot or cold, but not lukewarm.
Come follow me, wholeheartedly—I’ll see you through the storm!”
What shall we do with Jesus? We must answer our own way—
Eternity depends on what we do with Christ today!

--Jay M. Richardson