A DRIVING EXPERIENCE



A friend told me the following:


“As a youth, I suppose I was a little rebellious. For the most part, I thought rules just got in the way. I wouldn’t dream of thinking that way now, but then I knew only enough about life to get me in trouble. My Dad was not a member of the Church but my Mom had been a strong member all her life.


She always encouraged me to go on a mission and at nineteen years of age I went, but only because I loved her so much. I didn’t go for myself. If I would have gone for me, I think I would have done a better job. I was sent on a mission to Canada, which at that time included southern Canada and parts of the Northern United States. It was a huge area and when transfer week rolled around, we were sent to our new area by train.


I wasn’t the best missionary, because I had the wrong attitude about mission rules, but then again, I wasn’t lazy either. I had grown up on a farm and was accustomed to hard physical work from sunup to sundown. I wasn’t so much for breaking rules but spent a lot of time bending them. Despite this, myself and whatever companion I was teamed with would baptize more investigators than just about anyone else in the mission. Maybe it was because I really loved the people.


During the Christmas season, we were invited to a member’s home that had grown to love us in return. They had a small home with two small children and hardly any money for food and presents. They decided that, with the small amount of funds they had, they wanted to spend Christmas on a meal and presents for my companion and I.


They were very kind to us and sacrificed so that we might enjoy Christmas, even though we were far from home. Mission rules permitted us to stay at member’s homes for no more than an hour. This family had invited us over for a special meal at 11 AM and by noon, my companion motioned that we needed to leave. The family wanted us to stay till 2PM. It was Christmas Day and the family had given of themselves so much that I felt it would be rude to leave before 2PM. I was the senior companion, so we did it my way.


On the way home, as my companion and I were walking toward our apartment, he began to complain about how we should have left earlier and that staying longer was a breach of mission rules. I believed that this was an exception to the rule. Our disagreement became more heated and I lost my temper and threw him against the wall of our apartment. He was so upset by this that he called the mission president who transferred me right then.


On Christmas Day I was on a long train ride heading for the mission home. After calming down, I knew that I had been wrong to lose my temper and figured the President was going to send me home before my two year mission was done. After an interview with the President the next day, however, he felt that what I needed was repentance and a new assignment. I submitted to both, however, I was not prepared for the positive nature of my new assignment.


Harold B. Lee was the Area President of the Canadian Mission and was looking for a missionary to be the driver for he and his wife as they visited many parts of the mission. The car that was made available to me to chauffer them in was a Chrysler 300.










It was very powerful car and a pleasure to drive. The last part of my mission was spent shuttling them all about. I got to know them very well, so much so that they called my parents and told them what a fantastic missionary son they had.


No mention of my previous experience with a disgruntled companion bouncing off a wall was ever mentioned. Who would have thought that such a negative situation could turn out so positive? To my mother’s dying day, she would brag to anyone who would listen that she had once received an admiring phone call from Harold B. Lee, who later became the Prophet of the Church.