The Choice

THE CHOICE By Weston N. Nordgran [ A young man addicted to the use of tobacco was bluntly told by his girl that he must choose between her and tobacco. If there were more girls like Barbara Lane, there would be more young men like Basil Andrews. This simple narrative tells the true story. — Editors.] Barbara Lane was worth winning. There could be no doubt about it. She was "good to look at," clever, accomplished, a good mixer, and a real homemaker. Thus thought Basil Andrews, as he trudged home with dragging feet and a heavy heart. But why wast she so set against him smoking tobacco? Why didn't she nag at her father, old George Lane, or her brothers? They all smoked, except it was Tom, aged fifteen. Why did she let her brothers smoke in her presence, and not him, Basil Andrews? What was the answer? Then he remembered the words she had spoken: "Tobacco is an evil. I will not have it in or near my future home. I do not like to think of it as my rival; but it comes to that! For you, it will be tobacco — or me! I must let you decide, as it will be you who will be most affected. If you choose the weed, then I will not see you again. It is for you to decide. Tobacco has the start, for you already smoke, and heavily, too. Your hands shake — your very breath is impure! However, I can even things up a bit. I love you and I will abide by your decision, if you are manly about it. Good night!" That was it. Brief, terse, frank. It was just like her. "I can even things up a bit. I love you." Ah! What a wife she would make! What a girl for a companion! But — it meant giving up tobacco — or her! Oh! Was there ever before such a test? Well — he would think it over. That night as he prepared for bed, he thought things over care- fully, and after seriously weighing the evidence on both sides, he decided to pray to the Lord for guidance. He remembered with a start, and not a, little shame, that it was the first time in months he had thus communed with his Maker. "Let's see," he mused, "it has been five — no, six months since I prayed last! Heavens! I quit the night I took my first cigarette! Why, I tremble like a leaf, and I've almost forgotten how to pray!" He knelt down by the bedside, and poured out his soul, and asked for divine guidance, not on whether or not he should quit smoking, but as to the method he should pursue in order to rid himself of the evil habit. The next morning, as he rolled out of bed, he automatically

THE CHOICE 639 reached for his package of cigarettes, and holding one in his mouth, was about to apply a match to it, when he remembered his resolve of the night before. The craving was great, but his word was sacred; especially so, when given to God. He threw the unlighted cigarette and the. package into the ash can, and dressed hurriedly. As Basil went out into the brisk morning air he came face to face with the fresh April sunshine. His chores were soon disposed of, and as soon as he had eaten a hasty breakfast, he went to work on a division fence which he was constructing to facilitate the pasturing of his sheep, during the coming Summer. He ate no dinner, and by night, he was so tired and nervous, and he trembled so violently, he could hardly do his evening chores. He cut his supper short, and once again sought relief in earnest prayer. When he arose from the bedside, he was calm, and a spirit of peace possessed his soul. His prayer had been answered. He ha,d heard a voice speak clearly: "Why not go on a mission?" Why not, indeed? It would be just the thing! He would be away from the old crowd, and free from many temptations. He would be helping the Lord, while the Lord helped him! He went to sleep that night, calmer, and rested better than he had for many months. Bishop Lawton was much surprised the next morning, when he opened the door in response to a knock, and found that his caller was none other than Basil Andrews. He was still more astonished when he found out the object of the visit, and the subsequent payment of a large amount of back tithing, to be credited to the same young man. Then Basil began his story: "Bishop Lawton, I want to go on a mission. It doesn't matter where, but I want to go, and the sooner the better for me. I have enough money to pay my way, and I have several reasons for wanting to go now. I want to marry Barbara Lane, but she objects to me, as long as I smoke. I have decided to quit tobacco, and it is going to be hard for me. I believe that it will taike both the Lord and me to win this battle, and so I want to help him while he is helping me. I have prayed sincerely, and I know it will be the right way. If I am worthy, I would like to go, and I am ready now." The bishop grasped Basil's hand, and wringing it sympathetically, said, "Basil, you have done the right thing. You have chosen the right, and it shall be as you desire. You shall g0 on a mission, and proclaim the everlasting gospel to all who will listen, and to many who won't. If you are diligent, you will do much good. But you will have many temptations. I promise you in the name of Jesus Christ, that if you are faithful, and prayerful, and humble enough, you shall overcome all evil, and you will have much joy and happi- ness." Basil thanked the bishop, and went away' with a light heart. The news that Basil Andrews was to go on a mission to Great Britain, caused a hubbub of excitement in the little village, and his

640 IMPROVEMENT ERA farewell party was well attended. Basil had gone straight to Barbara Lane, as soon as he received his call, and had told her of his choice. She was overjoyed, and had spread the news as soon as possible. Thus many came that night that otherwise would not have come had they heard of the event in a more ordinary way, or over a longer route. When Basil was called upon to make a few remarks, he stood up before the people, and in a straightforward way, he told them of the evil habit that he was trying to break, and of his method of break- ing it. He explained that in asking the Lord's assistance, he had acquired a debt that he hoped to partially pay off, by going out into the world to proclaim the gospel to the nations of the earth. After the meeting, he was given congratulations, encouragement, and a rousing send-off by the faithful older members of the Church. Some of the younger set scoffed and told him that they would miss him, and that he would be losing two years of his life. He replied that he knew that he was in the right, and that he would spend the two best years of his life in the service of God. Basil's missionary experiences were about the same as many other young men of Zion have had in the service of the Lord. He received all varieties of treatment imaginable, but he was brave, humble, and prayerful, and so he did not falter in the truth. When doors were slammed in his face, he would remark, "Another door closed between Lady Nicotine, and me." In many instances, Basil's ability to play the violin and piano, won an opening for the gospel truths that otherwise would have been denied him. He had a rich tenor voice, and before long he made a hit wherever he went, and was often invited back, by those who would not tolerate a "Mormon" before. At first, the craving for tobacco was so great that he became thin, pale and haggard. At times, he was nervous, and dispeptic. Then he would fast and pray, and deliver tracts, or study the Church works. As time went on, these spells became less troublesome, and after the first six months in the mission field, they ceased altogether. Then, indeed, did he throw himself, heart and soul into the Lord's work, so that when the time came for his release, he felt as if he had just begun to live his life in God's own appointed way. He stayed at the mission headquarters in Liverpool, for a week after his release, testifying to all who came, of the truth of the gospel, of the divinity of Christ, and of his own faith, and the benefit he had derived from his mission. Then he sailed for home, and arrived there late in the Summer. He felt that his mission had been a success, and that he Lord had caused him to profit by it. He was called upon the stand to deliver his homecoming speech, the next Sunday. His welcome home had rivaled his send-off, and he was deeply touched and very grateful. As he stood before the assembled throng, many of whom were from surrounding towns, and

THE CHOICE 641 villages, he looked taller and broader than when he went away. In very truth, he was "every inch a man," and a "pillar of strength unto God." He gave some very interesting missionary experiences1, and told of the overwhelming joy that came to a missionary when he knew that he had helped to start an honest soul on the straight and narrow path to eternal peace and progression. He told of the need of the world for more "Mormon" missionaries, and ended his talk by reading the song, "Send the light." $ sfc s|e afs $ Two years have passed since then, and Basil is the proud owner of a three hundred acre farm, beside numerous other properties. He says that his wife, Barbara, and their little son fill the old homestead with love and happiness. There is an indescribable feeling of joy and contentment over that household. Old George Lane and his sons have all quit smoking. They are now supporting young Tom on a mission with their earnings, of which a goodly share formerly went for tobacco. Surely "Truth liketh good companions, therefore do no evil." Monroe, Utah. Mother is Praying For Me No matter which part of the country I'm in, Or what distant land I may roam, I still see before me a dear little spot Where the roses creep over the home. I remember the counsel, wisely given, By a mother as kind as could be; And no matter how far from the home I stray, I know she is praying for me. Chorus: I've a home, sweet home, and wherever I roam Comes a memory that's sacred and dear, 'Tis the face of my mother, tender and true And her advice still rings, in my car. Whether I'm out where the billows may roar, Or as sick as a mortal can be, 'Tis oh, such a comfort, and soothes me so much To know she is praying for me. But sometimes my troubles pile up in a heap, Or misfortune awhile shadows me. I find some way out of my troubles, somehow, Through the prayers of that mother for me. Some day I'll go back to that sweet, sunny spot, To that sweet hallowed place o'er the sea; I'll be to my mother a true loving son. I know that she's praying for me. Mcnan, Idaho. ELSIE M. LARSEN.