These Things Can Never Die
Charles Dickens
The pure, the bright, the beautiful
That stirred our hearts in youth,
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The streams of love and truth,
The longing after something lost,
The spirit's yearning cry.
The striving after better hopes;
These things can never die.
The timid hand stretched forth to aid
A sister in her need,
A kindly word in grief's dark hour
That proves a friend indeed;
The plea for mercy softly breathed,
When justice threatens high.
The sorrow of a contrite heart;
These things shall never die.
Let nothing pass, for every hand
Must find some work to do,
Lose not a chance to waken love;
Be firm and just and true.
So shall a light that cannot fade
Beam on thee from on high,
And angel voices say to thee,
These things can never die.
I watched a Planet Earth documentary with my niece Pepper, who is 3. We watched a Polar Bear's life, how their whole lives they are trying to find food, trying to survive. We watched this Polar Bear grow up, learn to hunt, we grew to love him. But then we had to watch him struggle for food and eventually die. Huge crocodile tears rolled down little Pepper's face and she sobbed for this poor Polar Bear. "Why can't the Polar Bear find food? He is going to die without food". I didn't think we'd have to explain death to a 3 year old from a simple Planet Earth documentary. We explained Heavenly Father's plan for us on earth, that we are all supposed to die and when we do we go back to live with Heavenly Father, that's why he made earth.
My perception of death has changed since working in a cancer clinic. It's a lot more real than it ever has been. Everyone asks me if its depressing working in a cancer clinic. It's not.
I've had family, friends and patients pass on, but although they are not here physically, their words, testimonies, experiences and works live on. I have assimilated them into my own character and testimony. They live on in the life that I now live. They will never die. And every once-in-a-while I stop and think, what will I leave behind?
I want people to remember me as a good friend, to remember that I loved my Book of Mormon. I want people to remember that I loved my husband, that I always spoke highly of people, that I built people up, not tear them down. I want people to remember my testimony, because I shared it with words and without words. This is who I want to become.
I'm so grateful for good people that have sowed and will sow good seeds in my life. Most of them are small caring acts as Charles Dickens' poem states. A helping hand, wordless prayer, hope, a kind word, a simple testimony. And although we all will, these things will never die.
My perception of death has changed since working in a cancer clinic. It's a lot more real than it ever has been. Everyone asks me if its depressing working in a cancer clinic. It's not.
I've had family, friends and patients pass on, but although they are not here physically, their words, testimonies, experiences and works live on. I have assimilated them into my own character and testimony. They live on in the life that I now live. They will never die. And every once-in-a-while I stop and think, what will I leave behind?
I want people to remember me as a good friend, to remember that I loved my Book of Mormon. I want people to remember that I loved my husband, that I always spoke highly of people, that I built people up, not tear them down. I want people to remember my testimony, because I shared it with words and without words. This is who I want to become.
I'm so grateful for good people that have sowed and will sow good seeds in my life. Most of them are small caring acts as Charles Dickens' poem states. A helping hand, wordless prayer, hope, a kind word, a simple testimony. And although we all will, these things will never die.
