JUDGE NOT!

Judge Not

1967

Spring had arrived and so had Steve. Two doors down the street a family was moving their things into a rented house. Driving slowly by, I could see that children were part of the family. The usual thoughts crossed my mind as I hurried on my way. "Surely hope they are nice children. Last family wasn't so good!"

Only a couple of days passed, and Chris reported that Steve had moved into the house down the street. "Steve? Who's Steve?" It didn't take long for his presence to be felt. He used bad language, had sticky fingers and didn't go to Church. "Primary! Yes. Invite him to Primary."

After Primary, while on the way home, Steve talked very disrespectfully about Heavenly Father. "Children, I really prefer that you don't play with Steve, unless he can refrain from bad language, respect our property, and have some manners." Well, that takes care of that.

A few days later, I was across the street talking with my non member friend Pat. She and John had recently moved from Mississippi...a great family. They had four sons, all who "toed the mark" and were very well-mannered. Pat and I went to Relief Society together, and we visited with each other several times a day. This particular day Pat reported, "My children have been forbidden to go to Steve's house. His mother cussed Shelby out and was downright rude." I didn't say anything...just mentally agreed, and again felt good about my relationship with Pat. It was comfortable. She was a fine Christian lady with good children.

Several evenings later, while putting Randy in the tub, I heard a car roar up. My husband soon reported, "The Bishop was just here, and you'll never guess..."

"What?"

"Steve's father is a member of the Church." Suddenly my heart sank. My first thought..."Oh, no, I hope Pat doesn't find out," and the next thought..."Oh, no, the Bishop wants us to be aware, so we can fellowship them."

"Pat will never understand this situation."

During the summer, I met Steve's mother. My first impressions were very negative. Steve had two little sisters. Summer was soon over.

A short time later, I was called to be a Den Mother. The five cubs were all the same age and were friends both at school and Church. I knew their parents and already had a good relationship with the boys. We soon had a well-functioning Den. I established some basic rules like, "No smart stuff, respect for all, etc." Things were going great, the boys were doing well, and I felt that everything was under control. It was all fun and no problems when a most disconcerting thought crossed my mind, "Steve really should be a part of this den." I shuddered.

It was very hard for me to think of inviting someone who was different into our well controlled den and having to adapt my program to accommodate new problems. The possibility of losing control of the other children felt like a big risk.

Some days later... I could hear Randy playing down the street. Yes, there he was at Steve's house...in the back yard...and I was galvanized into action. I was soon marching Randy toward home. As I left Steve's back yard through the car port, my eyes very quickly picked up a familiar picture. I stopped, picked up some half cut paper dolls. Yes, they were from the Children's Friend.

I could feel my heart and eyes fill with tears as I slowly walked home, feeling very heavy hearted. Someone loves Steve and his sisters, and I, a supposedly good neighbor, was really letting someone down.

Decision time ! "Steve must become part of our den. I must cope with the situation and extend my heart."

I soon found myself knocking at Steve's door. He was excited by the invitation, and his mother was very friendly. She supported the plan by commenting, "Bert (Steve's father) really liked scouting and wants Steve to be involved in the program."

I did it! It wasn't easy, but I felt good about the invitation.

A few weeks later, my husband and his Stake missionary companion said they didn't have a contact for the evening. Chris and Brad eagerly said, "Daddy, why don't you go teach Steve about the Gospel?" At Steve's house, his mother invited the Stake missionaries in and it all started. Steve read all the volumes of A Child's Story of the Book of Mormon. After a few lessons, he was ready for baptism.

As Christmas vacation approached, Steve's Dad accepted a job in Idaho. The parents planned to look for a house during the holidays; the children were to stay in Idaho with relatives until the move was complete. We could not escape the deep sense of loss which was triggered by this family's move at this particular time. We were all very disappointed that Steve had to go. How had this boy been transformed in our minds and hearts from a threatening presence to a part of ourselves? What was the magic we had all experienced?

A couple of days before Christmas vacation was over, while doing the dishes, I looked out the window. Standing by the palm tree was one of the sweetest little boys I have ever known. "Children, children, Steve is in our front yard." What a great reunion! His first words were, "I have come back to be baptized."

After the baptism, Steve's mother embraced and thanked us for teaching Steve the Gospel.

And they left. I know the miracle that transforms our hearts is the Savior's love.

 

Randy

Brad

Chris

 Where are you Steve?

argie.ella@gmail.com