ST. JOHNS, FLORIDA
COMPANION: ELDER BORE
DISTRICT LEADER
with a story from Richard Thurman as quoted by Vaughn J Featherstone.
“No one in our Utah town knew where the Countess had come from; her
carefully precise English indicated that she was not a native
American. From the size of her house and staff we knew that she must
be wealthy, but she never entertained and she made it clear that when
she was at home she was completely inaccessible. Only when she stepped
outdoors did she become at all a public figure--and then chiefly to
the small fry of the town, who lived in awe of her.
“The countess always carried a cane, not only for support, but as a
means of chastising any youngster she thought needed disciplining. And
at one time or another most of the kids in our neighborhood seemed to
display that need. By running fast and staying alert, I had managed to
keep out of her reach. But one day when I was about thirteen, as I was
short-cutting through her hedge, she got close enough to rap my head
with her stick.
“‘Ouch!’ I yelled, jumping a couple of feet.
“‘Young man, I want to talk to you,’ she said. I was expecting a
lecture on the evils of trespassing, but as she looked at me, half
smiling, she seemed to change her mind.
“‘Don’t you live in that green house with the willow trees in the next block?’
“‘Yes, ma’am.’ …
“‘Good. I’ve lost my gardener. Be at my house Thursday morning at
seven, and don’t tell me you have something else to do; I’ve seen you
slouching around on Thursdays.’
“When the Countess gave an order, it was carried out. I didn’t dare
not come on that next Thursday. I went over the whole lawn three times
with a mower before she was satisfied, and then she had me down on all
fours looking for weeds until my knees were as green as the grass. She
finally called me up to the porch.
“‘Well, young man, how much do you want for your day’s work?’
“‘I don’t know. Fifty cents, maybe.’
“‘Is that what you figure you’re worth?”
“‘Yes’m. About that.’
“‘Very well. Here’s the fifty cents you say you’re worth, and here’s
the dollar and a half more that I’ve earned for you by pushing you.
Now I’m going to tell you something about how you and I are going to
work together. There are as many ways of mowing a lawn as there are
people, and they may be worth anywhere from a penny to five dollars.
Let’s say that a three-dollar job would be just what you have done
today, except that you’d have to be something of a fool to spend that
much time on a lawn. A five-dollar lawn is--well, it’s impossible, so
we’ll forget about that. Now then, each week I’m going to pay you
according to your own evaluation of your work.’
“I left with my two dollars, richer than I remembered being in my
whole life, and determined that I would get four dollars out of her
the next week. But I failed to reach even the three dollar mark. My
will began to falter the second time around her yard.
“‘Two dollars again,’ eh? That kind of job puts you right on the edge
of being dismissed, young man.’
“‘Yes’m. But I’ll do better next week.’
“And somehow I did. The last time around the lawn I was exhausted, but
I found I could spur myself on. In the exhilaration of that new
feeling, I had no hesitation in asking the Countess for three dollars.
“Each Thursday for the next four or five weeks, I varied between a
three-and a three-and-a-half dollar job. The more I became more
acquainted with her lawn, places where the ground was a little high or
a little low, places where it needed to be clipped short or left long
on the edges to make a more satisfying curve along the garden, the
more I became aware of just what a four-dollar lawn would consist of.
And each week I would resolve to do just that kind of a job. But by
the time I had made my three dollar or three and-a-half dollar mark I
was too tired to remember even having had the ambition to go beyond
that.
“‘You look like a good consistent $3.50 man,’ she would say as she
handed me the money.
“‘I guess so’ I would say, too happy at the sight of the money to
remember that I had shot for something higher.
“‘Well, don’t feel too bad,’ she would comfort me. ‘After all, there
are only a handful of people in the world who could do a four-dollar
job.’
“And her words were a comfort at first, but then, without my noticing
what was happening, her comfort became an irritant that made me
resolve to do that four-dollar job, even if it killed me. In the fever
of my resolve, I could see myself expiring on her lawn, with the
Countess leaning over me, handing me the four dollars with a tear in
her eye, begging my forgiveness for having thought I couldn’t do it.
“It was in the middle of such a fever, one Thursday night when I was
trying to forget the day’s defeat and get some sleep, that the truth
hit me so hard that I sat upright, half choking in my excitement. It
was the five-dollar job I had to do, not the four-dollar one! I had to
do the job that no one could do because it was impossible.
“I was well acquainted with the difficulties ahead. I had the problem,
for example, of doing something about the worm mounds in the lawn. The
Countess might not even have noticed them yet, they were so small; but
in my bare feet I knew about them and I had to do something about
them. And I could go on trimming the garden edges with shears, but I
knew that a five-dollar lawn demanded that I line up each edge exactly
with a yard stick and then trim it precisely with the edger. And there
were other problems that only I and my bare feet knew about.
“I started the next Thursday by ironing out the worm mounds with a
heavy roller. After two hours of that I was ready to give up for the
day. Nine o’clock in the morning, and my will was already gone! It was
only by accident that I discovered how to regain it. Sitting under a
walnut tree for a few minutes after finishing the rolling, I fell
asleep. When I woke up minutes later, the lawn looked so good and felt
so good under my feet, I was anxious to get on with the job.
“I followed this secret for the rest of the day, dozing for a few
minutes every hour to regain my perspective and replenish my strength.
Between naps, I mowed four times, two times lengthwise, two times
across, until the lawn looked like a green velvet checkerboard. Then I
dug around every tree, crumbling the big clods and smoothing the soil
with my hands, then finished with the edger, meticulously lining up
each stroke so that the effect would be perfectly symmetrical. And I
carefully trimmed the grass between the flagstones of the front walk.
The shears wore my fingers raw, but the walk never looked better.
“Finally about eight o’clock that evening … it was all completed. I
was so proud I didn’t even feel tired when I went up to her door.
“‘Well, what is it today?’ she asked.
“‘Five dollars,’ I said, trying for a little calm and sophistication.
“‘Five dollars? You mean four dollars, don’t you? I told you that a
five-dollar lawn job isn’t possible.’
“‘Yes it is. I just did it.’
“‘Well, young man, the first five-dollar lawn in history certainly
deserves some looking around.’
“We walked about the lawn together in the light of evening, and even I
was quite overcome by the impossibility of what I had done.
“‘Young man,’ she said, putting her hand on my shoulder, ‘what on
earth made you do such a crazy, wonderful thing?’
“I didn’t know why, but even if I had, I could not have explained it
in the excitement of hearing that I had done it.
“‘I think I know,’ she continued, ‘how you felt when this idea first
came to you of caring for a lawn that I told you was impossible. It
made you very happy when it first came, then a little frightened. Am I
right?’
“She could see she was right by the startled look on my face.
“‘I know how you felt, because the same thing happens to almost
everyone. They feel this sudden burst in them of wanting to do some
great thing. They feel a wonderful happiness, but then it passes
because they have said, “No, I can’t do that. It’s impossible.”
Whenever something in you says, “It’s impossible,” remember to take a
careful look and see if it isn’t really God asking you to grow an
inch, or a foot, or a mile, that you may come to a fuller life.’ …
“Since that time, some 25 years ago, when I have felt myself at an end
with nothing before me, suddenly, with the appearance of that word,
‘impossible,’ I have experienced the unexpected lift, the leap inside
me, and known that the only possible way lay through the very middle
of impossible.” (Richard Thurman, “The Countess and the Impossible,”
Reader’s Digest, June, 1958.)
“The Gospel of Jesus Christ Is the Golden Door”
http://www.lds.org/general-
What a marvelous story!!! I enjoyed it. I hope you did as well.
There is another story. This one I will not quote at length. It is the
story of the man born blind, who was healed by Jesus Christ. Not
knowing anything of His Lord, he was questioned by the leaders of the
Jews. They accused his Healer of being corrupt, of being a sinner.
This was his response:
"Whether He be a sinner or no, I know not, one thing I know, that
whereas I was blind, now I see."
That was his testimony, as was the testimony of the man who penned
that timeless verse, "I once was lost, but now I'm found. Was blind,
but now I see..."
Is that not enough?? Later, when the council continued to reject the
righteousness of Jesus, this once-blind man went on... (Emphasis
added)
"Why herein is a marvelous thing, that ye know not from whence He is.
And yet he hath OPENED my EYES! Now we knoweth that God heareth not
sinners, but if any man be a worshiper of God and doeth His will him
He heareth! Since the world began was it not heard that any man opened
the eyes of one that was born blind. If this Man were not of God He
could do nothing."
Come now, and hear the words of one who was blind. The Book of Mormon:
Another Testament of Jesus Christ, gives sight to the souls of men. It
has opened my heart! It hath opened my eyes. If it were not of God it
would be nothing. For it claims to be nothing but of God! And it is
not nothing. It is nectar to the soul, it is the power of illumination
somehow channeled into prose. It is of our Holy God. And whether I
shall be found, at His marvelous judgement day, to be a sinner or no,
I know not. One thing I know. That whereas I was blind, now I see.
And oh what a marvelous destiny I see! I see temple sealings and
thrones on high. I see mansions prepared in the kingdom of my Father.
I see joy, and peace, and gladness. I see multitudes clothed in white,
wrapped in light. I see it! Not millions, but billions. Come and see!
Behold, with me, a royal army!
Is it not enough for we who, like sheep, have gone astray, and turned
every one to his own way? Is much circumstance and speech necessary?
One thing need we know, does it make us, now, to see?
My testimony is that it does. The Book of Mormon, the words of Thomas
S. Monson and of Joseph Smith, the ministry of Jesus Christ and,
ultimately, the love of my Heavenly Father, are the light by which
mankind seeth. There is but one other way, which is that of the blind.
So come. Come, and see.
Such is our invitation to the world. We extend it in the name of Jesus Christ.
Amen.