Protected by the Holy Spirit

In November of 1997, I had been serving as Bishopric first councilor in the Flagstaff Fourth ward with Bishop Norman Mayes when he was released and I was called to serve as bishop. Because bishops have many occasions to go to the Stake Center for meetings, interviews, and so forth, Bishop Mayes told me it did not take long to travel from the Linda Vista meetinghouse to the Stake Center, so, I could continue whatever I was doing at the Linda Vista building, up until shortly before I was due over there. After I had been serving as bishop for a while I mentioned to Janet “I don’t know how he did it, it takes me a lot longer to drive over to the Stake center for meetings than Bishop Mayes said it would take. He told me he can get over there in seven minutes, but the best time I have had is nine minutes.” With a bit of amusement showing in her eyes, and evident in her voice, Janet replied “He said it takes eleven minutes to get there not seven.” I guess I had been making better time than I thought! Also, I wonder, did my hearing also suffer way back then? I know I miss too much of what I could hear these days. I share the previous story to illustrate how I have sometimes been while driving, trying to make the best time I can, almost always feeling like I am in too much of a hurry to be a safe, careful driver. One of my tendencies has been to try and better the time predicted by the GPS technology put to work. Janet, on more than one occasion, has accused me of “Using up our (allotment of) blessings on your driving”. On the afternoon of Jan 30th 2022, Janet and I had been attending worship services at the Limon branch of the Church where we usually attend meetings on Sundays, due to our current assignments. We typically enjoy eating a bit of something on the way home. Before leaving, Janet offered a prayer of thanks for the food we had and asked for our safety as we traveled home. Our West bound drive home from Limon on Hwy 24 was an unusually pleasant day for the date. The road was dry, the sun was shining, no precipitation, and very little breeze. While traveling on this country highway, between Ramah and Calhan, a Fed EX delivery van pulled out of a private driveway onto the road ahead of us. Moving along about 60 miles per hour we quickly caught up to the delivery vehicle. My usual inclination is to quickly go around such annoyances, but I felt a clear message in my thoughts which caught my attention, a quiet whisper advised me, “You are not in any hurry right now, just slow down, and stay behind this van”. I reduced speed and followed a safe distance behind. Very shortly, in the East bound lane, an approaching 18-wheeler, big rig drifted into our lane and was on a direct collision course. Its bulk quickly bearing down on both the delivery van and our car following it. The Fed EX truck reduced speed and pulled to the right onto the highway shoulder. I applied brakes and did the same, preparing, if needed, to drive off of the right side of the road and down the embankment. Just before the big rig got to the Fed EX van, it began pulling back toward its correct lane allowing us enough room to proceed unharmed. I knew at that moment a deadly accident had been avoided. Had I not heeded the prompting, and stayed behind the delivery van, we would have been further down the road, located directly in the path of the oncoming truck. At the least we would have been forced off of the road at a high rate of speed. I know we were protected as Janet asked for in the prayer before leaving Limon and I am grateful for the clearness of the prompting to stay behind. This experience is similar to another saving prompting. When our Children were young, about 1990, we were traveling to a family campout on a dark rainy Friday night. The rain was not heavy but it was steady and reduced visibility. We were traveling South from Flagstaff on Lake Mary Road toward a camping area near Blue Ridge Reservoir where we were going to enjoy some time with Janet’s side of the family. Like many times before I had worked late so we were getting a night-time start. With the delayed start I was pushing the safety limits. The wet road reflected light from our headlights as well as oncoming traffic increasing the challenge to clearly see ahead and be safe. Not far out of Flagstaff a very clear unmistakable image crossed my mind. The Image was of our car in the midst of a herd of deer. What I saw was a still image, but in the picture, the deer were in front of, on both sides, and jumping over our car’s hood. It was so stirring, I immediately slowed down because the impression I received was we would be in an accident if I did not respond. A very short distance later, rounding a bend in the road, I saw in the headlights ahead, a herd of deer running across the road and I calculated we would have been in their midst if I had not reduced speed. In both of these instances, we were clearly protected by revelation. I seek to always be as responsive in following the quiet directives of the Spirit of God. Not only for physical safety but also to be on whatever errand God intends for me. May we all follow the Spirit as we actively participate in the work of Gathering Israel.

Consecration at Home

Growing up as one of the younger children in our home of fourteen children, I was raised by goodly parents who taught the gospel in our home long before “home centered, and church supported” was a common phrase. I learned to share and live the principles of consecration[i]in our home. I learned the words of prophets, we read scriptures, we heard and bore testimonies, and we practiced living the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Work was a large part of the culture of our household. Other than occasional youthful escapes, if we were not at school, we were working at home, providing service for a neighbor, occasionally serving at the Stake Welfare Farm, or on a job for hire. We always had plenty of work to do at home, but when an opportunity for employment outside of our household was acquired, it helped our family to meet the demands of expenses. I remember the first time I worked for someone outside of our home for wages. The Carlson’s who owned Carlson’s Dry cleaning in Roosevelt hired me to do yard work. For a few weeks after school, when I believe I was in 7th grade, I would walk from the Jr. High school to their home and Sister Carlson would give me a snack. I would be treated with cookies or a sandwich and a cup of milk or juice, then I would mow, rake, trim, weed, etc. The snacks themselves were near payment enough and the privilege of using a gas-powered mower, which we did not have at home, was fun for me. Working for 50 cents an hour, after a few weeks, I received a paycheck for what I think was about $15.00. I took the check home and gave it to mother. It must have been a Friday because at the same suppertime together I remember others of my siblings also giving their earnings to our folks. I do not remember having any thoughts of doing anything else with the money than what I did. It was how business was conducted in our household. When any of us earned anything, from our parents on down, tithes and offerings were always paid, and the balance was used for the benefit of the whole. That evening when I turned over my first earnings, I remember father expressing gratitude to all of the family for each one doing their part to support the needs of the family. I felt joy and a sense of belonging. It made me feel like a valued contributor and one with the family. We each humbly helped the family, which in turn built our self-esteem, confidence, mutual appreciation, and love for one another. When someone needed shoes, a few dollars for a date, or something else, money sufficient for our needs, but never enough for extravagance, was made available. I dare say most of the time, the way our finances were shared in our household was consistent with the law of consecration. There is nothing I could have bought with my earnings, or any amount of money which would have been more valuable than the blessings received from learning and living principles of consecration at home. [i] https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/tg/consecration?lang=eng

Work at the Miami Mine

On Christmas day 1938, Soon after my parents, John Andrew Hancock and Ruby Irene Johnson were married, at the cabin in Aripine where her family lived, Andy took his new bride to his ranch home between Aripine and Clay Springs, Arizona. When they arrived at Ruby’s new home, she asked Andy “Do you want to carry me over the threshold?” His reply was “What in the world is that for?”  Ruby’s resigned reply was, “Never mind, nothing at all.” When mother told me this, my immediate thoughts were “Gone in a moment were imagined or fantasied exhibitions of displayed chivalry. Instead, a quick dose of reality. Mental adjustments of expectations were made, reality grasped, and life moved on.” I expressed such to mother when I asked, “So he wasn’t much of a romancer?” She quickly corrected me. “He was the best at that. Andy was a gentleman, he was always a gentleman, and I always thought that was nice. That was (the) kind of romantic, he did.” Apparently, Dad had never been made fully aware of the tradition of the groom carrying the bride across the threshold, or he did not feel obligated to pay any attention to it. However, if being romantic meant always being a gentleman, Andy certainly was.

Ruby remembered “Yeah, the night he took me home from the wedding, after the wedding, we left my house and went over to his home on the ranch.  We went in the house, I walked into the bedroom, and the dog objected.” There, Mother was greeted by Buck, Dad’s cattle dog. He growled at Ruby, so he was put outside. Ruby remembered “Andy made him go outside because he was growling at me”. Ruby was a stranger to Buck, so when she came in, Buck growled and then was put outside. Ruby said, “Well, that dog, he didn't ask for me.  Andy couldn’t let the dog in the house that first day, so he was ousted. He kept it around, but he didn’t let it in the house.  He (Buck) never did like me; I didn’t like him either.” Seems Buck was no longer his master’s best friend. Buck lost his place, and his rank, and was put outside; on Christmas day to boot!

Buck was a cattle and hunting dog. I believe he was the best working dog Dad ever owned. No other dog he owned quite lived up to the reputation Buck had. Buck was trained before Dad had any children. Having children around likely contributed to the challenge of training subsequent working dogs. Buck was such a talented dog; he would be borrowed by neighbors who had become aware of his skills. One friend would come and get Buck when he was hunting elk. The hunter said, “Buck would round up the elk and keep them so concerned about him that I could just ride around the herd and take my pick.”

Early in the marriage Dad was fortunate to have a job working for the highway department and worked on road construction East of Holbrook through what is now the Petrified National Forest. While working on roads, Dad witnessed the burial of national treasures. He remembered “They would take those great big old, petrified logs, and would just bull doze them into a wash, and cover them up, there was so many of them.” Concerning the burial of petrified logs, Mother remembers being told at the time, “They did a lot of that.  The government kind of got in and stopped it you know.  Then it was, if you touched a piece of that (petrified) wood, it was trouble.” The highway job there did not last very long, and Dad was back to trying to earn a living at the ranch, and any other way he could think of.

While ranching near Clay Springs, money was hard to come by and Andy thought he would try farming on the ranch. He sought a loan to buy seed for farming in order to produce a potential cash crop. Ruby said, “He applied at Holbrook for a feed and seed loan with the government so we could farm.  They never did get it to go through with him.  He kept on going back after them and they hadn’t ever gotten around to it yet.  Finally, he just had to get work so we just up and moved to Miami and got a job at the mine.” The Great Depression in the country was still keeping money hard to get. However, months later the loan was approved but it was too late. Ruby remembered, “That old man kept running him around and around. Then the guy called him back and said, ‘Your loan has gone through.’  And Andy replied, ‘What good is that going to do me this time of the year?  It’s the middle of July.  I just got a job.”

Perhaps it was a great blessing to not get the loan. The work found was at the copper mine more than 100 miles South in Miami, Arizona. By this time, they had been married long enough to have two young girls, Irene and LaVerne. For the short time the family resided in Miami, the young family lived in a small, rented home on or near highway 60, the main road going through Miami. LaVerne says, “We lived right above the mine”. Irene and LaVerne were very young and while the family lived there, Beverly was born on June 11th, 1942, in Miami, AZ. Although I do not have the dates, the whole family only resided in Miami for part of the duration of Andy’s employment there.

Andy moved Ruby and the three young girls back to the ranch house, near Clay Springs, but he kept working at the mine for quite a while. Living back at the ranch, Ruby would have had the support of her family, friends and church members in and around Clay Springs. Andy could continue working, and living at the mining camp, without the expense of a rental and be able commute home, as needed, or desired.

The work in Miami was good paying and needed for the upcoming war effort. Interviews with my older siblings indicate this young family moved from Clay Springs to Miami in the Spring of 1942. While employed in the mine, Dad initially worked at the mine as a Timber man. His main responsibility was to frame and prop up the mine with timber and then at least part of the time he worked with explosives where he learned the blasting trade, which he used to his advantage in construction, demolition, stump removal, and so forth for years to come. At this period of time our country was being drawn into and then fully engaging in the war. The attack on Pearl Harbor by the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service came on the 7^th of December 1942. Concerning Dad after the attack Mother remembers, “He stayed working there, then Pearl Harbor came along, that scared the daylight out of me. He stayed right where he was working in the mine.  He was a timberman in the mine, his was a very important job in getting the copper out. He knew timbering, and he knew how to work in the mine, so he was working there and had a very good job.  So, he stayed working there until the war was almost over.” When asked about Dad also working as a Blaster she answered, “Oh yeah, he did (work with dynamite), there was dynamite there. He was a good dynamite man.” During the war effort, the national concern was intense and although for much of rural America it may have seemed to be a distant concern, still there were changes which affected even the most remote areas of the country. The need for mining products became a priority. In many areas, military service men were stationed to work in the mines. During the Second World War, many younger men, up through their 30's as Andrew was, and even older men into their 40’s, were drafted or volunteered for military service, however, because of the increased demand for copper for the war effort, Andy never served in the military but rather served his country being employed as a copper miner, during a greatly increased demand for essential ore. 

Dad enjoyed telling the following story which he experienced while residing at the mining camp where many of the miners lived while employed there. One of the crew repeatedly found his toothbrush wet when it should not have been. Upset because someone was helping himself to his toothbrush, he decided to put a stop to the unacceptable sharing. To solve the problem, before retiring to bed, this miner joined the other men wearing only his underwear. There in front of all the boys, with everyone watching he used his toothbrush as a tool to scratch himself on, usually covered, areas of his body. He seemed to get everyone's attention with this conspicuous display. One fellow with a bit of concern in his voice asked, "Is that what you do with your toothbrush?" "Yep, every day" was the answer. This fellow never again noticed his toothbrush untimely wet after his striking display.

Sometime before Dale was born on Sunday, November 7^th, 1943, Andy had moved Ruby and the girls back to the ranch near Clay Springs. Perhaps the approaching due date was a major motivation for the decision to move them back. The ranch was on Cottonwood wash, West of Clay Springs towards Aripine. Sunday morning before Dale was born, Dad took off on his horse from the ranch. He first went and got Ruby’s sister, Mildred Parker to attend to mother, then he left the ranch, rode past the New Tank watering hole then on Westward to Snowflake to find the good family friend, Doctor Haywood, an estimated 20 miles away. I do not know why a vehicle was not available or used, but it was a very cold day, and traveling by horse a rider does not maintain good enough blood circulation to keep the cold manageable by constantly moving one’s arms and legs. Instead, up on the horse, Dad was more exposed to the cold and wind. His limited body movement left his fingers, toes, and face, fully vulnerable to the cold, and his boots would have provided little protection. Dale remembered father talking about the ride on that cold November day. Dad said of his ride, that for him, “It was the coldest day there ever was”. By the time the doctor arrived at the ranch Dale had already been born. Mother said the good Doctor Haywood, who arrived too late to deliver the baby, asked, “What are you in such a rush for?  You’re just going to do this again in a few months.” Fortunately, Mother’s sister, Aunt Mildred was on hand to serve as Ruby’s midwife. Dale’s three older sisters were at home and may have been on hand, or underfoot. Surely, they were eager to help, however helpful or not. Irene remembers being outside at least some of the day.

Later the family moved from the ranch to downtown Clay Springs. Population; not many. There was no school bus service from anywhere near the ranch, so the family moved from the ranch to Clay Springs when Irene reached school age. The move was made with the only vehicle available, a flatbed truck.

This part of the story, of the move, is questioned with good reason, and to be fair it was related to me by old people, who were very young at the time. With this in perspective I will share what may have happened even though the facts are scarce and questioned. I was told, Dad had loaded up the flatbed truck with furnishings from the ranch and was driving towards Clay Springs. It was on a dirt road, and he certainly would have been driving slowly. Irene remembers, she and Beverly were seated on a sofa at the back of the truck. Irene says “There must have been some rowdy goings on. LaVerne who was always perfectly behaved and always did just what she was told was not with us on the sofa, or there would have been no problem, but because it was us two troublemakers, we tipped the sofa off the back of the truck with us on it.” Fortunately, no one was injured during the mishap. According to Irene, Dad reloaded the sofa, and the girls, then carried on. If such a spill did occur, then it certainly would have someone counting blessings and evaluating loading and securing procedures. LaVerne assures me that the father she knows would never have been so careless as to allow something to simply fall off a load, especially with little girls aboard. After all, Andy, JA, or John Andrew, was well known for his skills in tying down and securing anything, especially a load being transported. The characteristics of her father, which LaVerne has knowledge of, came from her firsthand experiences, most of which were much later than this reported incident. It is also reasonable to consider, part of the reason, Dad became so good at tying down and securing loads, may partially be due to the incident described, or some other learning experience, perhaps, not including dropping part of a load, with such precious child cargo. I feel it is probable, if such an incident ever did occur then it would be something he would learn from, and never again allow less than a completely secured load.

 

John Andrew Hancock with Petrified logs, East of Holbrook Arizona.

Lessons Taught at Home

 All I Ever Needed to Know, I Learned at Home (Lessons by Andy & Ruby Hancock)

Love One Another: And keep your words sweet; you may be obliged to eat them.

Keep the commandments: All of them; this was often used, and in many different situations.

Follow the Prophet: Again, used in different situations to help guide us.

Respect Church Leaders.

Choose the Right: A favorite, used to call upon our consciences.

Thank the Lord: Acknowledge the Lords hand in all things.

Serve the Lord: Then dad would add, “While you’re young”.

Obedience is Better than Sacrifice: Often used when we failed to follow commandments with exactness.

Read the Scriptures: The common Sunday School answers were always primary teachings at home.

Cover Yourself Up: Dad was never comfortable uncovered or seeing anyone else uncovered especially when modesty was in question. He never liked to see short sleeves, skirts or pants.

Say Your Prayers: Pray always and keep a prayer in your heart; again we were taught the basics at home.

Sing: A song can also be a prayer and lift our spirits and give joy to others.

Help Your Mother: And anyone else who may need your help.

Hold to the Rod: Be true and follow what you learned when you were reading the scriptures.

Listen to Your Bishop: He is entitled to inspiration and you will be blessed as you heed his counsel.

Count Your Many Blessings: See what the Lord hath done.

Do Your Duty: When called to serve, serve faithfully. Go about doing good.

Magnify Your Callings: Again, do not wait to be told what to do. It is an unwise and slothful servant who needs to be commanded in all things.

Learn All You Can: Which means everywhere, not just in school.

Don’t Wait to be Told. Be prepared and in action before being called on or asked to act.

Remember Who You Are. You are a child of God with a noble heritage.

Take Your Hat Off. Be respectful and courteous. Men, tip or remove your hat as becomes a gentleman. A hat is to protect you from the sun; Don't wear it inside.

Pay Your Tithing. And obey all the commandments to receive the Lords promised blessings.

Dance with Every Girl There. A gentleman will try to help everyone have an enjoyable experience.

Do All The Good You Can: Anywhere and everywhere.

Line it Up: From fence posts to posture, everything is better when it is straight, square, plumb, level, in line, and in order.

Stand Up Straight: Shoulders back, head up, stand up tall, and look the world in the eye.

Working with Grandpa by Coy Hancock

 

I liked working with Grandpa Hancock.  I loved his stories, advice, and the funny things he would say to me while we were working together.  Work wasn’t something he did because he had to; it was something he did because he loved it.  I helped him with his chickens, bees, garden, and cows and now I have each of these in my own yard today.  I’ve even been talking to a friend about growing sorghum so we can make our own molasses. Working with my own children with these activities have helped me not miss him so much. Plus, it has given me the opportunity to teach them about this amazing man and the lessons he taught me.

 I always felt like I was on some kind of adventure whenever I worked with Grandpa. Several times he asked us to go with him to gather cows. Sometimes we would have to hike for miles before we found the cattle.  Since I have always loved hiking I looked forward to going along.  Usually, the cows would peacefully let themselves be herded, but not always.  One time we went to get a cow he had out on someone’s property.  I have no idea how long the cow had been out there or what he was planning on doing with her but I do know she was mean. She was in the corral when we got there so we just had to get her into the truck.  There was the adventure.  She had fire in her eyes and she wasn’t afraid to show how she felt about us.  She would balk and tug at the rope one minute but then would rush at us and try to stomp us into the ground the next.  I admired the way Grandpa held his ground but was certainly not ready to do so myself.  I’m sure she smelled my fear even though I desperately tried to appear cool and calm on the outside.   We, and when I say “we” I mean Grandpa because I was keeping my distance from this ferocious monster, drove her up the ramp into the truck and he tied her up to the front.  Then we started home with Grandpa driving and me sitting at the front of my seat keeping one eye behind me. The cow didn’t stop fighting the ropes the whole way home and the way she was stomping and carrying on I was sure she was still trying to get at us. I tried to be discreet with my spying because I didn’t want Grandpa to know how afraid I was of her coming through the back window to finish me off but he could tell and talked to me about it.  On the one hand, I knew that I’d be safe with Grandpa but on the other hand, if that cow got any closer to me I would have willingly spent the rest of the trip hugging the front bumper.  That day I learned that it’s ok to be afraid as long as you still finish the job.

One time my dad dropped me off to help Grandpa unload hay from the back of his truck (I’m still amazed at how he was able to load so much hay into the back of that old, green, dilapidated beast of a truck). When I got there, Grandma directed me to watch out for Grandpa and make sure he didn’t work too hard.  I always took Grandma very seriously and since she didn’t go into details I figured maybe Grandpa was having a hard time or something so I did everything I could to make sure he didn’t have to lift a single bail.  I tried to be strong and fast but it wasn’t easy keeping ahead of him and before long I was ready to give out myself.  About that time he said to me, “I know your grandma told you to watch out for me but I’m still able to do a little work.”  I was really glad he said that because trying to save him was killing me.  He then took his hook and grabbed one end of the next bail and I did the same on my end and we worked the rest of the time together without either one of us perishing. That day I learned that by working together the job gets done without anybody getting hurt or dying.

 I think the most grueling work I did with Grandpa was extracting honey.  First of all, I’m not a fan of pain.  Since bee stings are painful, I whole-heartily try to avoid them.  In those days, the veils we wore were tied on with these tiny thread-like strings that wove around us like fragile spider webs.  If you didn’t tie your strings correctly, you got stung.  Period.  I much prefer today’s veils with their zippers and Velcro. Luckily, Grandpa was always willing to help me tie my veil and, if I could find it, I’d add a little duct tape to the mix.  I remember helping him butcher chickens one time when one of the headless chickens ran into a beehive and knocked it over.  He just walked over and lifted the hive back upright then came back and we continued with the chickens.  I wondered how in the world he was able to do that without getting stung.  I remained perplexed until later, as we waited for Grandma to fix lunch; he sat in his chair, took out his pocket knife, and proceeded to dig the stingers out of his hands.  I couldn’t believe it!  When I got stung, even once, I thought for sure I was going to die and acted the part. But not Grandpa.  He just kept on going as if he had never been stung.  That day I learned that it’s ok to work through pain, especially when you know it’s temporary.

 As I grow older, I am more and more grateful for the fond memories I have of working with Grandpa, for his stories and the lessons he taught me.  I still miss him but am indebted and thankful to our loving Heavenly Father and our Savior for making it possible for us to be together again.  No doubt I will beg him to repeat his stories plus others he didn’t have the time to tell.     

Coy Hancock

The Money Tree

 The Money Tree

Soon after John Andrew Hancock was called to serve as a Bishop of the Clay Springs Ward, on March 2nd, 1947, Elder Joseph F. Merrill, one of the Apostles, ordained him a High Priest and Bishop. While he served as Bishop, I believe Daddy attended every General conference session in Salt Lake City. If not, it was not out of lack of wanting to do so. Daddy made every effort to make those trips economically possible by including them in his freight business agenda as well as trying to make it as fun as he could for those of the family who he took along with him. At least once the trip included some time at the Lagoon theme park. On one of the trips shortly after being ordained, when Irene and LaVerne were very young they were able to go to General Conference with Daddy while Momma was left at home with other little ones. While there, the girls were taken to a door of the tabernacle, near a gate which has since been removed, where the Prophet was known to enter. There they waited in hopes to meet him until their patience was rewarded, and they were able to meet, talk with, and shake hands with President George Albert Smith. During one conference trip, LaVerne says “We got to sit in the choir seats for one of the sessions when the choir was not singing, so we were very close and could look right down upon the prophet”. The only vehicle the family had during this time was the truck daddy used to haul freight, which was his primary means of earning a living. Often Lumber from a local saw mill was hauled one direction and then something else was purchased and brought back home to sell. In the fall, Utah fruit was hauled back to Arizona, which was then sold, or traded. Some was often given away to needy friends, neighbors and relatives in and around Clay Springs. Some of the traveling included kids laying on top of a mattress which was laying on top of a full load of peaches. The mattress gave the kids a comfortable ride while it also protected the fruit. The mattress and kids were also under a large tarp, which was tied in place over kids, mattress and fruit. Irene tells a story about an experience the girls had when, “Daddy went to one of the meetings, and La Vern and I were left on Temple Square, on the lawn near the south side of the Tabernacle, between the Assembly Hall and the Tabernacle. We were told not to move from that spot so he would know where he could find us after the meeting. "Daddy had given Irene some coins including a fifty-cent piece and quarters which the girls used to play with. Irene had seen her share of gardening and played a gardener game digging in the lawn. She pretended to plant seed for a money tree, and would bury her half dollar coin, then dig it up and bury it again. When daddy came back to get them, they had moved around enough that they had lost track of the last planting site and could not find her half-dollar. Daddy helped them look around for it for awhile and when they still could not find it he said “It’s alright sister, where you buried that money, a money tree will grow. A tree will grow with a bunch of those fifty cent pieces on it and no one will be able to pick them but you”. Irene recalls, “I was that little and I believed every word he said.” Although Irene says she has never gone back to look for the money on her money tree, she knows there have been many blessings coming her way which only she could harvest, but like her money tree, she has not always looked to harvest those blessings as she could have. I am sure we have all missed some bounteous blessings from lack of looking for an opportunity to harvest them.

Beverly and Dale

Back in 1954 the Andy and Ruby Hancock family were still living in Clay Springs, AZ. Two of their youngsters Beverly and Dale were about 12 and 11 years old. As usual, Dale, who claims it was always three older girls against one boy, did something which deserved retribution. Interestingly, both Beverly and Dale deny knowing what really caused the disturbance. However this time, there seems to be no doubt, Dale had really done something to upset Beverly. She grabbed the first thing she could get ahold of, and with her best effort she threw a shoe at his head. In a natural, defensive move, Dale dodged the incoming missal. The shoe flew past Dale and broke the window behind him.

I have been in similar situations enough to know the gut wrenching, sinking, woe and despair, feeling a youngster may git down deep inside when such a thing happens. The suffering before the folks arrived home had to be extreme.

When Dad and Mom arrived home they asked, "What happened to the window?" In an attempt to pass the blame, Dale pointed at Beverly, and she blurted out "Well, he ducked"!