Radiant Tales: Happiness.

29 January 2013

Happiness.

Happiness, you might say, can be a lot of things. Blankets and hot chocolate, a good book or a beautiful song, a handsome boy or a genuine smile. Yes, yes, it's all those things. But right now?

I would say that happiness is something you can only hold on to if you share it.

I find happiness in sharing the gospel; in smiling at someone because I love them; in holding her hand because I want her to know I love her; and giving him a hug because he means a lot to me.

Happiness.

And maybe it's not just a feeling. But an action.

"And moreover, I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual; and if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness." Mosiah 2:41

And just remember, that there are good and better things to come.

In other words, there is happiness ahead.

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Do not pray for tasks equal to your abilities, but pray for abilities to equal your tasks.
Thomas S. Monson

Let the Scriptures be your guide and you will never find yourself traveling the road to nowhere.

Thomas S. Monson

The Touch of the Master's Hand

It was battered and scarred, And the auctioneer thought it hardly worth his while To waste his time on the old violin, but he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good people", he cried, "Who starts the bidding for me?" "One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?" "Two dollars, who makes it three?" "Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"

But, No, From the room far back a gray bearded man Came forward and picked up the bow, Then wiping the dust from the old violin And tightening up the strings, He played a melody, pure and sweet As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer With a voice that was quiet and low, Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?" As he held it aloft with its' bow.

"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?" "Two thousand, Who makes it three?" "Three thousand once, three thousand twice, Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered, But some of them cried, "We just don't understand." "What changed its' worth?" Swift came the reply. "The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune All battered with bourbon and gin Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd Much like that old violin

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine, A game and he travels on. He is going once, he is going twice, He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes, And the foolish crowd never can quite understand, The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.

Myra Brooks Welch