At a distant conference, my plane brought me to the city many hours early. The stake president met me at the airport and took me to his home and, having important work to do, excused himself and returned to his work. With the freedom of the house, I spread my papers on the kitchen table and began my work. His wife was upstairs sewing. In midafternoon, there came an abrupt entry from the front door, and a little fellow came running in, surprised to see me, but we became friends. Then he ran through the rooms calling, "Mother," and she answered from upstairs, "What is it, darling?" and his answer was, "Oh, nothing." He went out to play.

A little later another voice came in the front door calling, "Mother, Mother." He put his schoolbooks on the table and explored the house until the reassuring answer came from upstairs again, "Here I am, darling," and the second one was satisfied and said, "OK" and went to play. Another half hour and the door opened again and a young teenager moved in, dropped her books, and called, "Mother." And the answer from upstairs, "Yes, darling," seemed to satisfy, and the young girl became acquainted with me, then began practicing her music lesson. None of the three had gone upstairs.

Still another voice later called, "Mother," as she unloaded her high school books. And, again the sweet answer, "I am up here sewing, darling," seemed to reassure her. We became acquainted, and she tripped up the stairs to tell her mother the happenings of the day in a sweet mother-daughter relationship. Home! Mother! Security! Just to know Mother was home. All was well.

A child needs a mother available more than all the things which money can buy.