Nearly everything of value that I know, I learned from my wife.

When I was a senior in high school, I became focused on a beautiful, happy girl with a radiant smile.  I felt happy when I was around her.  I felt good.  I felt like smiling.  It took me five years, but I succeeded in marrying her.  She taught me how to smile, and I’ve been smiling ever since.

In my memory, she glowed.  The hallway lit up as she passed.  I never wondered why.  It was obvious that the light stemmed from her purity.  She was a Mormon girl.  She never broadcast the fact; but everyone knew it, even non-Mormon me.  Since I was a non-member, she shouldn’t have dated me.  She was taking a risk, but hopefully she was seeing something that even I was unaware of.  She told me later that she’d have never married me if I hadn’t been able to take her to the temple.  She taught me that temple covenants are of ultimate importance.

She has always been aware.  She knows things.  She knew then that she was a daughter of God.  She possessed a testimony of the gospel.  She has been in tune with her children, and through the Spirit, has been aware of their needs, their problems, and the solutions to their difficulties.  She has been aware of all my needs and moods and thoughts for the 44 years of our marriage, has been able to read me, and has succeeded in convincing me that I’m the luckiest and happiest man on earth.

When asked by a recently-returned missionary if she had a Book of Mormon that she could give me, a spring launched her from her chair and sent her running to get it.  Was she eager for me to know something?  The first Book of Mormon that I ever touched came from her hands.

When I was halfway through the book, she sent me a pamphlet entitled “Joseph Smith’s Testimony.”  I didn’t think of it at the time, but it was her testimony, too.  My budding testimony suddenly shot into a tree as I read of Joseph Smith’s experience.  Life at last made sense.  God was real.  He’d called a prophet in our day.  I had value.  Long-standing questions were answered.  Doubts were erased.  Marjorie’s testimony was now mine.

Marjorie notices little things—like flowers and children and the color green.  She says they’re not little things.  Her favorite things I’ve adopted as my own.  I used to think blue was the ultimate color; but then she pointed out the qualities of green, so now I like it best.  She once told her father that green was her favorite color.  He astutely replied, “Well, I guess it must be heavenly Father’s favorite color, too.”

Marjorie taught me that family is my first priority.  She did it by example.  Everything she does, she does for her family.  She cans, sews, cooks, launders, teaches, prays, cuts hair, visits with, analyzes, thinks about, prays about, chauffeurs, loves, reads to, sacrifices for, cleans up after, prays for, and receives inspiration about her children and me.  Then she acts on that inspiration.  Her foresight, intuition, prayers, and spiritual promptings have prevented multiple identifiable accidents and mistakes among her children and husband, and probably innumerable mishaps and potential transgressions that we’re not even aware of.  She’s an untiring guardian angel.  Her mind and her hands are constantly busy in our behalf.  She rarely sits, and she rarely does anything just for herself.

I try to be like her.  Before our marriage I found myself trying to make myself better so that I could be worthy of her.  To this day, before I do anything, I still ask myself if she would approve.  Her approval means everything to me.  Her love means everything to me.  Why she condescended to marry me is an ongoing mystery over which I still marvel.

She is my pearl of great price.