Part
of a talk given by David B. Haight April General Conference 1981
Scott Hall is an unusual young man. His father,
Garth, is an assistant coach for the Brigham Young University football team. Recently Scott asked his mother for a white
shirt.
“But you have all
of these other beautiful colored shirts. Why do you want a white shirt?” asked
his mother. “I just have to have a white
shirt,” he said.
“But why?” his
mother asked. Scott replied, “I can’t be
a missionary without a white shirt.”
Scott is two years old…
Recently a California family, driving through St.
George, Utah, on vacation, was attracted by the unusual architecture of the St.
George Temple. They walked around the building, admiring its beauty. Having a little time to spare, the parents
entered the information center; their two young children crossed the street to
sit under the shade of a tree near our meetinghouse.
A teacher, calling
the children in to Primary and seeing the two young visitors, said, “Come on in
to Primary.” They went in. The parents,
now finished at the information center, started looking for the children. After
searching for nearly an hour, they saw them come out of the chapel.
The father said,
“We’ve been looking all over for you. Where have you been?” They replied,
“We’ve been to Primary.” “Primary!
What’s Primary?”
“Primary is where
you learn about Jesus; and, besides, Daddy, you shouldn’t be smoking!” Their
father just about swallowed his cigar.
He remarked, “Let’s
get on our way. We’re way behind schedule.”
The children said,
“We can’t go.” “Can’t go! Why not?”
“We are in a play.” “A play?” he asked. “Yes,” they replied, “and the play isn’t
until next week, and we have to stay all week for rehearsals.”
The family stayed
in St. George for a week! The children
rehearsed; the parents were taught the gospel; and the whole family was
baptized…
Football
came to our country town later than most. The school board had neither the
money for equipment nor a coach. Then the great day arrived. Our high school
principal was able to buy twelve inexpensive football outfits, except the
expensive cleated football shoes (we used our basketball shoes), and our coach
was recruited from the faculty because he had witnessed a game.
We
learned a few simple plays, how to tackle—or so we thought—and set off for our
first game with Twin Falls, the previous year’s Idaho state champions.
We
dressed and went out on the field to warm up. Their school band started to play
(they had more students in the band than we had in our entire high school), and
then through the gates came their team. The twelve of us—a full team of eleven
plus one all-round substitute—watched in amazement as they kept coming through
the gates—all thirty-nine of them in full uniform.
The
game was most interesting! To say it was a learning experience is rather mild.
After two plays we didn’t have any desire to have the ball—so we would kick it,
and soon they would score. When they got the ball, they would run a baffling
play and score. Our problem was to get rid of the ball—it was less punishing.
In
the final minutes of the game they became a little reckless. A wild pass fell
into the arms of Clifford Lee, who was playing halfback with me. He was
startled, not knowing for sure what to do—until he saw the “Dallas Cowboys”
thundering after him. Then he knew what to do. He was fast. He wasn’t running
for points, but for his life! Clifford made a touchdown; six points went up on
the board. The final score—106 to 6! We really didn’t deserve the six points,
but with our torn shirts and socks and our bruises, we took them anyway.
A
learning experience? Of course! An individual or a team must be prepared. In
all things success depends upon previous preparation.
