copyright © 1998 | ![]() |
Sometimes history is something so small that you're likely to overlook it.
Let's back up to springtime, 1996. The place is a dentist's office in Salt Lake City. The dentist has just filled the tooth of Marjorie, an elderly patient, and his two assistants are discussing the plans for the evening while they clean her teeth.
"So did you find a babysitter for tonight?"
"Not yet. I'd really like to go, it's my first high school reunion."
"How about your folks?"
"Dad has to work, and Mom doesn't feel good. She hasn't felt good for some time." Mom's illness will eventually result in her gall bladder being removed.
"How about Justin's folks?"
"They're out of town."
There's a pause in the conversation.
"I'll tend your baby for you." The speaker is Marjorie, the patient in the chair.
Now think about it. Would you volunteer to baby-sit for your dentist's assistant, someone you barely knew, a virtual stranger? Yeah, me neither.
Let's say you're 84 years old. Does that change anything? No, I didn't think so.
"Why thank you, dear. It's very kind of you to offer, but I couldn't do that."
"I mean it. Bring her up to our place, we'd be glad to watch her."
Maybe she's just bored, desperate for something to do? Perhaps, but I doubt it.
This is no ordinary mortal. She and her husband Gordon are world travelers; they have been to places that most people don't know exist. He heads an organization of over ten million members. They have plenty to do. Young men have learned that if they were to catch their hand in Gordon's back pocket, they might be dragged to death.
A hundred years from now, you and I will be forgotten, but historians will still be discussing the doings and sayings of these two super people. Marjorie is Marjorie Pay Hinckley, the wife of Gordon B. Hinckley, president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, the Mormons.
As things happened, Sister Hinckley didn't tend my granddaughter that evening, but I'll always cherish the fact that she offered.
Marjorie Pay Hinckley died April 5, 2004 at age 92. She will be missed.
Return to The Greenhorn's other stories
Copyright © 1998 by Greenhorn Publications