Thanks Mom; I Miss You


I sat down at the computer today to write, and I couldn’t think of anything to say. I remember the first time that I felt that way was when I was about eight years old. I had been to church and had accepted an assignment to talk in sacrament meeting. It was to be a two-and-a-half-minute talk. I’m sure it was alright at the time I accepted it, and I’m sure that the teacher knew I could talk for two and a half minutes without a problem. I had demonstrated that in class, because I wouldn’t stop talking.
Rose Carolyn Higgins Stubbs and
her boy Jimmy Stubbs 
The morning of the talk arrived, and my teacher called my mother about the assignment I had accepted. My mother came into my room and asked me about the talk. I had totally forgotten. It was almost time to go to church and I didn’t have anything prepared. I was still in bed and my mother gave me a whack across my backside. She said, “You are going to give the talk. I don’t care if you just get up and say I’m Jimmy Stubbs, and I don’t have a talk.” I quickly began, with her help and glares, to prepare a little talk about living a good life and always being prepared.
Many years later Joy and I went to sacrament meeting in our ward, and as we walked in and sat down all ready for the meeting, the executive secretary came down and told me to sit on the stand. I, of course, asked why, and he said I was to give one of the talks for the meeting. I told him that no one had asked me to give a talk. His reply was that he had called me, and I had accepted the assignment to speak.
Joy agreed with him that he had called, although she didn’t know why. I had already been in bed and asleep when I talked to him. I really can’t remember if I went up, but I think I did. I was prepared to tell them that my name was Jim Stubbs, and I didn’t remember to prepare a talk. I think that I was able to give a talk. I always blamed the man who had called and had some internal bad feelings towards him. That was not a good thing because he was doing his job, and I just didn’t wake up enough to remember that he had even called.
Forgetting that someone had called and asked me to do something, and I had accepted and forgotten has remained a fear of mine ever since, but I still go to church early and check the program that is handed out to make sure my name is not on it.


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