Nowhere are kindness and love more important than between husband and wife.  I find it distressing and unfathomable that so many marriages end up in divorces with the partners hating one another.  It doesn’t have to be that way.  It shouldn’t be that way.  The man and wife should be best friends.

When we were a young, married couple, I heard Elder Boyd K. Packer tell a story that had a profound effect upon me.  I’d like it to have the same effect upon every one of my posterity, so I will repeat it here:

“Shortly before I was married I was assigned with an older companion to serve as home teacher to an aged little lady who was a shut-in.  She was a semi-invalid, and often when we knocked on the door she would call us to come in.  We would find her unable to be about and would leave our message at her bedside.

“We somehow learned that she was very partial to lemon ice cream.  Frequently we would stop at the ice cream store before making our visit.  Because we knew her favorite flavor, there were two reasons we were welcome to that home.

“On one occasion the senior companion was not able to go, for reasons that I do not remember.  I went alone and followed the ritual of getting a half-pint of lemon ice cream before making the call.

“I found her in bed.  She expressed great worry over a grandchild who was to undergo a very serious operation the following day.  She asked if I would kneel at the side of her bed and offer a prayer for the well-being of the youngster.

“After the prayer, thinking of my coming marriage, I suppose, she said.  ‘Tonight I will teach you.’  She said that I was always to remember it.  Then began the lesson I have never forgotten.  She recounted something of her life.

“A few years after her marriage to a fine young man in the temple, when they were concentrating on the activities of young married life and raising a family, one day a letter came from ‘Box B.’  (In those days a letter from ‘Box B’ in Salt Lake City was invariably a mission call.)

“To their surprise they were called as a family to go to one of the far continents of the world to help open the land for missionary work.  They served faithfully and well, and after several years they returned to their home, to set about again the responsibilities of raising their family.

“Then this little woman focused in on a Monday morning.  It could perhaps be called a blue washday Monday.  There had been some irritation and a disagreement.  Then some biting words between husband and wife.  Interestingly enough, she couldn’t remember how it all started or what it was over.  ‘But,’ she said, ‘nothing would do but that I follow him to the gate, and as he walked up the street on his way to work I just had to call that last biting, spiteful remark after him.’

“Then, as the tears began to flow, she told me of an accident that took place that day, and he never returned.  ‘For fifty years,’ she sobbed, ‘I’ve lived in hell knowing that the last words he heard from my lips were that biting, spiteful remark.’

“This was the message to her young home teacher.  She pressed it upon me with the responsibility never to forget it.  I have profited greatly from it.  I have come to know since that time that a couple can live together without one cross word ever passing between them.”  (Boyd K. Packer, The Ensign, January 1973, pp. 89-90).

I have quoted that story many times to many people.  I focus in on that last line:  “I have come to know since that time that a couple can live together without one cross word ever passing between them.”

I can bear testimony that that is so, because Margie and I have one of those marriages.  It’s something that we’ve both had to work at; but because we’ve both been working at it, we have as perfect a marriage, and as great happiness in life as it’s possible to achieve in mortality.

Ten or more years ago I wrote the first of “James’ Fables,” (all of which are actually true), patterned after Aesop’s Fables.  Debbie Warburton apparently made a copy of it, and shared it with a woman in another ward.  One day as a member of the stake presidency, I paid a visit to that woman, and was shocked to find a framed copy of my fable hanging on her wall.  I was proud that she thought it worthy of framing, and have since thought that it wouldn’t be bad to have it hanging in every home.  It contains a key to a happy marriage.  I repeat it on the following page:

James’ Fables

The Man and the Clock

Once upon a time there was a man who had a wife and a clock.  The man loved his wife, the wife loved her husband, and the man liked his clock.  They all lived together very happily.

The clock occupied a choice position on the wife’s dresser in the bedroom.  The husband was fond of looking at his clock in the wee hours of the morning to check on the progress of the night.  But, alas, many of their other possessions competed for the choice, unoccupied position in front of the clock, which prevented him from seeing the time.

Each evening the husband got into bed, glanced at the clock to see at what time he was getting there, and then got out of bed to remove the stray articles that had positioned themselves in front of the clock.

One evening, just after completing this nightly ritual, the man’s wife entered the room and placed something in front of the clock.  The man politely asked her to remove it.  The wife apologetically did so.

In the middle of the night, the man opened one eye to ask the clock if it was yet time for him to get up.  It was not, but the man had to get up anyway to remove the article that had managed to find its way in front of the clock while he slept.

In the morning as the man pondered upon the problem, he realized that there was an electrical outlet behind his own dresser, and another choice spot that the clock could occupy where it would not have to compete with their other possessions.

The man, therefore, moved the clock; and the man, his wife, and their clock continued to live together happily ever after.

Application:  Always we must ask ourselves this important question: “Shall I make an issue, or move the clock?”