THE BRIDGE BUILDER

READY FOR CHURCH - JACK, CHARMAINE AND CLIFFORD

Me Age 10

My Older Brother Jack, My Mother and Me 20+ years ago

In 1956 I was 10 years old living in Wellington, Utah (a small dusty town about 12 miles west of Price.) My mother was 9 years into her third and worst marriage. My stepfather’s alcoholism and domestic violence made our life full of pain and fear. My mother couldn’t leave. He often threatened to kill her. We believed him because there was a bullet hole in the bedroom window to remind us. More than 20 years later, when the children were gone, she would leave and go into hiding.


But things were looking up for me when I was 10. I walked to Primary with the other kids after school. I loved it. Today when I hear "The Light Divine" it reminds me of the sweetness I felt as I entered the church and sat in peace and hope and sang all those wonderful Primary songs. I learned about Jesus for the first time and I felt His love for me.


My mother was a good woman who paid dearly for the mistakes of her youth. She had a beautiful soprano voice. She could have sung professional opera—her voice was that good. But here she was a smoker, with 4 children in a desperate situation. Her voice would be her salvation and ours.


Someone in that little town found out about my mothers voice and started inviting her to sing with groups and solos at various church functions. Before long she quit smoking and started to attend church. I was finally baptized. My mother went to church and took the children and our life was better. Lots of things didn’t change with my father but there was a different spirit in our home. My mother became a "Bridge Builder." This was the name of a song she sang many times. As a child I eagerly memorized every word because the message was for me. And those words have remained seared on my heart and mind through the years.


THE BRIDGE BUILDER
An old man going a lone highway.
Came at even' tide cold and gray.
To a cavern vast and wide and steep.
With waters rolling cold and deep.
The old man crossed in the twilight dim.
The swollen stream held no fear for him.
But he turned when safe on the other side.
And build a bridge to span the tide.

"Good friend", said a fellow pilgrimed near.
"You are wasting your strength with building here.
Your journey will end at the close of day.
You never again shall pass this way.
You've crossed the ravine deep and dark and wide,
Why, why build this bridge at even' tide?"

The builder lifted his old gray head,
"Good friend, in the path I have come", he said.
"There followeth after me this day,
A youth whose feet must pass this way.
The chasm that was naught to me.
To that fair-haired youth may a pitfall be.
He too must cross in the twilight dim.
Good friend I'm building this bridge for him."