Liahona
I Love That Song
August 2024


“I Love That Song,” Liahona, Aug. 2024.

Latter-day Saint Voices

I Love That Song

The words to a favorite hymn reminded my mother that we need to reach out to those in need.

Image
woman holding a little crying girl

Illustration by Katy Dockrill

My mother, Dorothy Candland Woodruff (now deceased), was supposed to arrive in Regina, Saskatchewan, Canada, one afternoon, but she missed her flight. So she was rerouted, with layovers in Colorado, USA, and Calgary, Alberta. She wouldn’t arrive until midnight. Frustrated, she started her journey.

Her second flight was crowded and noisy. She was trying to do some work, when a little girl across the aisle began crying. She was impatient with her mother, who was holding a small baby. The girl’s father was sitting in front of my mother with another child, about five.

The girl’s mother talked softly to her daughter, but the child’s crying grew louder.

“This family clearly had not prepared their children for the trip,” my mother said when later sharing her experience with our family. For the lesson that followed, I use her words:

“Finally, the mother carried her crying daughter back to the bathroom. A short time later, the mother returned with the little girl, who was still in tears—silent tears, I noted thankfully. She sat down and held her daughter in her arms, tenderly rocking her back and forth. Then I heard her singing softly ‘I Am a Child of God.’1

“Startled, I looked up from my work as I recognized the song. I saw the family in a new light. After the mother had finished the song, I put my hand on her shoulder and said, ‘I love that song.’

“Tearfully, she said, ‘It was my seven-year-old son’s favorite song. We are taking him home to our family cemetery in Montana. We lost him yesterday in a terrible accident. We all miss him so much.’

“Shame swept over me. I had been passing judgment on this sweet family, insensitive to how I could have helped. The words of the song sharpened my awareness that even if they had not been Latter-day Saints, they were still children of God, and I should have reached out to them in their need.

“I was humbled. The rest of our journey together was full of a tearful sharing of feelings, emotions, and experiences precious to both of us. We parted as good friends who would keep in touch through letters in years to come.”

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