“I don’t remember growing older—When did they?” Ensign, Aug. 1971, 52

“I don’t remember growing older—When did they?”

“Is this the little girl I carried,
Is this the little boy at play?
I don’t remember growing older—
When did they?”1

Memories move upon us all. Children growing up—and leaving. Life’s shadows lengthening.

“Sunrise, sunset—
Swiftly fly the years.
One season following another,
Laden with happiness and tears. …”1

Memories that move and mellow—with the blessing of family and friends. Yet sometimes we let life slip away, missing much that is most precious and important. Sometimes we think of children mostly as a chore, their growing up as something to be gotten over with—learning perhaps a little late how much they are of all that matters most. And so the precious years pass swiftly. Oh, let us never leave them overlong with others, too little cared for, too little loved, too intent upon our own preoccupying purposes, failing to enjoy our families as fully as we should, sometimes too abruptly turning off their questions, too busy with much that matters less—and later then to find reason for regret for memories made or left unmade for the children God has entrusted to us. Children, youth, need a home with someone there to come to with their problems and their questions, as some things to them seem larger than they are and, seeming so, are in reality as large and important as they sometimes seem. And, looking back, we come to know that a child’s hand held trustingly in ours, a child’s arms held tightly to us, a youthful confidence entrusted to us may be among the most precious moments of the whole length of life. Oh, let us never lose it when this could all be ours. Enjoy life while it is happening—loved ones, young ones—while they’re with us—and happiness at home—and never push aside the things most precious for much that is less important. “I don’t remember growing older—When did they?”