A troop of monkeys occupied a copse of trees one day where a path led down to a river.

A pride of lions used to take the path every day and were shocked when suddenly they found themselves under a rain of flung sticks, monkey poop, and rotten fruit.  Ducking, dodging, and growling, they  hustled off.

The monkeys loudly congratulated each other on their victory.  They then started to discuss the lions’ countermeasures.  Some said the lions would lie in wait at night and slowly try to pick off the monkeys.  Some said the  lions would sprint through in terror.  Others said they would just suffer the monkeys’ abuse.  The trees soon rang with the angry chatter of a hundred different arguments.

The next day, the lions came casually along the path as normal.  When they came close to the copse they cut away from the path and made a beeline for another point on the river, equally convenient.  Their new route kept them out of range of the trees.

Moral:  ???

Comment: This fable is meant as a companion to the fable of the Harassed Aurochs.  The lions were too strong and too indifferent for what they did to be considered a surrender.  It was masterful indifference. (more…)

A particular hunter took it into his head that if he could bell a few aurochs, the herd would be easy to find whenever he wanted.

The hunter persisted in his efforts for days. And mostly for nights. Night after nights the aurochs would find the hunter slowly creeping up on them with muffled bells and would have to flee or drive him off.

The nuisance wore on and on.

One bright morning an auroch cow made her way through the herd to the lead bull. She had a complacently bovine look on her face. Indeed, she looked smug.

“At least we can get some sleep,” she announced to the bull. “I have the answer.”

“Go on,” said the bull.

“By the hunter’s village there is a large pen. Let us go into that pen every night. The hunter will always know where to find us, so he will have no need to harass us with his sneaking and his bells.”

Moral: Surrenders are not solutions.

Sometimes you are ready for a scripture.

Come, my brethren, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money, come buy and eat; yea, come buy wine and milk without money and without price.

-2 Nephi 9:50

And then shall the righteous shine forth in the kingdom of God.

-Alma 40:25

In the late winter twilight there is a house across the fields of the valley that has light streaming out its window. It is almost intolerably bright in the gloom. You can’t look straight at it.

You walk towards it, because it is home.

As you get closer, your eyes start to adjust. The light appears softer. You can start to see inside. You walk up and look in. You see the warmly lit room, the happy family, the fire.

They open the door when you knock. They are excited to see you. You go in to the cheer.

In earliest biblical culture, the family was more than a parent and child unit. It included all who were related by blood and marriage. This kindred family, as I prefer to call it, was strongly linked by natural affection and the patriarchal priesthood. The elderly were venerated for their experience and wisdom. There were strength and safety in numbers, and, through love and support, members established solidarity and continuity.

-thus Brother J. Richard Clarke, Our Kindred Family, from the Sunday morning session of the April 1989 General Conference

“Strongly linked by natural affection and the patriarchal priesthood.”  That’s right.  (Read his whole talk, its good for the soul.)

Memory and the generations, that is what is best in life.  The kindred family is what you were meant for. (more…)

Inspired by the Yankee Republic.

Its a tree in the kids backyard in an old house their family moved to.  It is not young but not particularly old.  Big enough, just barely, to have a kid-sized hole in the trunk.  When the kids crawl in, they discover it is much larger on the inside.  They are on the top landing of a staircase that stretches down down down into a distant blue haze.  There are regular landings as far down as they can see.

They go down one level and see a hole to exit.  They crawl out and find themselves in the recent past.  But not exactly the past as we think of it.  The past of our present turns out to be a pale reflection of the real past.  Each time period has its own past appropriate to it that only echoes but is not the real past.  The further back you go, the more different the reality.

For instance, their first exit takes them to colonial times, which are much like ours, but with haunts and ghosties and more swashbuckle.  In the real past, George Washington had a scar down his face and was blood brothers with the Bear of the Woods.  He won the Revolution personally dueling Cornwallis in the final assault on Yorktown.

The real dinosaurs had deadly colors our eyes can’t see and every creature sang.  The T-Rex sprinted with a high shrieky bagpipe skirl while its prey rhythmically boomed.

The kids explore and have adventures at the different levels.  Each level down the tree is taller.  In the far past, the tree is too tall to be seen.  Its massive trunk, bigger than cliffs, disappears into the clouds.

One days the kids ask themselves why the tree is normal size in their own time.

Honor and glory to them all.  They built a great inheritance.  If we squander it, we can only expect that they, like the father of the prodigal, will still welcome us in when we return to truths they built.

Remember!

The true Constitution is visionary men of high character and high ability leading a visionary people of high character and high ability.

Anything less is words on paper.

The Celestial Room of the St. George Temple is a relatively colorful room. Morning light diffuses from three sides, including through the open doors of two small sealing rooms off the south side of the Celestial Room. (more…)

The pioneers lived like heroes. We should buy the mythic narrative about them. Yet their greatness was not that they were always great. (more…)

Read the Basilisk at your earliest convenience. You should not read it as a horror story.

Don’t give up because of the second letter. Read it until the end. Ask yourself what would possess a woman to write like that?

Handgun people debate caliber, grip, aim, ammunition costs. But they all agree that the best gun is the one you will take with you.

(more…)

Then the voice spoke from the high mountain, commanding, “Build!”

And so they built. (more…)

We are excited to watch Poppy Hill when it gets here. John Mansfield got me with this:

This involvement connects to her relationship with her departed father, and the climax of the story takes the girl and a boy to the bridge of a ship in Yokohama harbor where its captain delays departure fifteen minutes to tell them of his admiration for their fathers, his friends that he remembers every day.

And so I have been thinking about the memories we leave behind us. I want my children to think of their time at home as the happy, golden years. That doesn’t come through indulgence. It comes through structure and discipline and light and love and water fights on the front grass.

Which brings me to eternity. (more…)

An old man had spent his life building his acres into a beautiful home. He had fruit trees, a house, some pasture, and everything cunningly laid out to be more productive and more beautiful. He had done it all himself. He had raised his children there.

One day in the warmth of the sun he was walking in his orchard and started to weep. His wife found him there. “What’s wrong,” she said.

“I was thinking about how our sons have left and don’t want to come back,” he said. “They’ll sale this place. Strangers will take it when I am gone.”

She loved him and wanted to cheer him up. “Well,” she said, “maybe they’ll love this place as much as you do.”

But he was not comforted.

Just as he prefers a carefully regulated diet and a low-risk career, so also he prefers the perceived safety of trusting what Studies Have Shown over taking a leap of faith. Just as he is content with a humdrum life, so is he content with a humdrum view of life. It has never occurred to him to aspire to be a god, and so the idea of God has little appeal.

-thus Wm. Jas.