Lolly's Yarn, In the Beginning
In the Beginning
Whenever some intrepid soul asked, “How did you meet your wife?” Charles’ eyes always sparkled. He flashed an inimitable grin, and this is his story, essentially as he told it.
Our romance began eons ago, in the pre-mortal heavens. Of all our Heavenly Father’s lovely daughters, one especially intrigued me. I sought her often, enjoying her company. She welcomed me, and we quietly gravitated together at every opportunity. We liked each other—a lot.
We rejoiced when we heard about earth, and the opportunity to gain a physical body. We talked about it every time we met, and hoped to go together. Whether or not we could, worried her She trembled as she spoke her fears.
“Earth life will be short, and travel still difficult. Unless we get the same century, and same country, we won’t find each other.”
My confidence never wavered. “Where’s your faith? Father will schedule us together. Trust me. I know somehow we’ll meet during mortality. We’ll fall in love, marry and have a great posterity.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Father will see to it. Friendship as deep as ours simply cannot end with birth.”
When my assignment came, I rushed to tell her the good news. My words tumbled fast.
“I’m, going to a little farming community in Franklin, by Duncan, Arizona, in the United States of America. My mother and dad aren’t rich, but Mother has the gospel, and they both love Jesus. They have two sons and she hopes for a girl, but they pray for a healthy child . . . and that’s me.” I whirled her around. “Oh, I couldn’t be more pleased.”
Catching her breath, she congratulated me. “I wonder where I’ll go. If you’re going now, I’d better go soon.”
“I’m sure you will. I hope you get Arizona, too.”
“But what if I don’t?” She stood stock still, eyebrows tilted in concern. “There are lots of places on earth. After you’ve gone I won’t be able to tell you where to look.” She groaned. “I won’t even know your new name.”
“Don’t worry." Clasping her hands, I looked deep into her eyes. “I promise I’ll find you, no matter how far or how long I have to search."
“But we won’t remember.” Her voice thinned, and she looked downward. “We’ll forget all about this home.”
“We may, but I could never forget you.” I lifted her chin. “You know I always keep my promises. Rest assured, I will find you. Goodbye for now. I’ll see you on earth.”
In almost a twinkling of an eye, I erupted from my mother’s womb, cried lustily, and tinkled an arc that hit the doctor’s face. Earth life, here I am.
When I reached my middle teens, I started hunting for that one special girl for me. “Heavenly Father, will I know her when I see her?” The answer seemed sure. I would recognize her almost instantly.
I looked in Franklin, Duncan, and Virden, but she wasn’t in my vicinity. When I played basketball and football for Duncan High School, every time we traveled to other schools, I scanned the bleachers to see if she were there. She wasn’t.
I started college in Flagstaff, but she wasn’t there. I looked in Australia when I was a missionary, but she wasn’t an Aussie. Neither could I find her in the Pacific Northwest. The Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor the day I was released from my mission, and I knew I could not escape the draft. So I looked for her in Texas, Arkansas, Alabama, Tennessee, but she wasn’t there.
When my best buddy and I rode a bus for a couple of hours to Indianapolis one Sunday morning, my search was only in the back of my mind. I told myself we would find a Sunday School, then go sightseeing in Indiana’s capital city, but I still looked. She wasn’t at the South Branch, but the next week when we tried the North Branch—there she was. My search was over. It had taken a whole world war to get us together. My job now was to convince her that she wanted me, and to somehow survive the war.
I asked Heavenly Father for help.