Memories of Grandpa Hill

November 25, 1984 Mom and Dad have been home from their mission three weeks now. Today they spoke in church and reported to their ward. All through the meeting I kept imagining that Dad would get up and be too emotional to speak. I determined if it did happen I would get up and help him. It didn’t happen though. In fact, Dad talked so long the meeting was 20 minutes longer than it should have been. If it had happened, this is what I would have said:

This is my dad- - and I’m proud of him. Let me tell you what kind of dad he is. He’s not the kind of dad that takes a son hunting or fishing or to ball games. He’s the kind of dad that takes his oldest boy to elder’s quorum meeting with him even though the boy is only seven. He’s the kind of dad that time and time again wakes his boys up at 5:00 am because it’s time to pick cherries or apples or haul hay or thin beets on the welfare farm. He’s the kind of dad that says to his teenage sons you’ve only got to go to one of the three meetings every Sunday but he goes to all three - - no wonder his boys are soon receiving awards for 100% perfect attendance. He’s the kind of dad whose eye’s water when the Spirit is near, who loves the Lord with all his heart and shows it through service to others. He’s the kind of dad that every boy ought to have - - a man of love and faith - - a man of God.