Elder True DeMille

Elder True DeMille

Sunday, June 15, 2014

This One Goes Out to my Old Men

Dedicated to both of my Dads. 

"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!"
They shout at me and plead.
There's just too much against you now.
This time you can't succeed!

And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure's face
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race.

And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuvenates my being.

A children's race; young boys, young men
How I remember well.
Excitement, sure! But also fear.
It wasn't hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope
Each though to win that race.
Or tie for first, or if not that
At least take second place. 

And fathers watched from off the side,
Each cheering for his son.
And each boy hoped to show his dad
That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went 
Young hearts and hopes afire.
To win and be the hero there
Was each young boy's desire.

And one boy in particular
Whose dad was in the crowd
Was running near the lead and thought,
My dad will be so proud!

But as they speeded down the field
Across a shallow dip.
The little boy, who thought to win,
Lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself
His hands flew out to brace,
And, mid the laughter of the crowd,
He fell flat on his face.

So down he fell, and with him hope. 
He couldn't win it now.
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished
To disappear somehow.

But as he fell, his dad stood up
And showed his anxious face
That to the boy so clearly said;
Get up and win the race!

He quickly rose, no damage done. 
Behind a bit, that's all
And ran with all his mind and might 
to make up for his fall.

So anxious to restore himself 
To catch up and win,
His mind went faster than his legs;
He slipped and fell again.

He wished that he had quit before
with only one disgrace
I'm hopeless as a runner, now. 
I shouldn't try to race.

But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his father's face,
That steady look that said again,
Get up and win the race.

So up he jumped to try again
Ten yards behind the last
If I'm to gain those yards, he thought,
I've got to move real fast.

Exerting everything he had,
He regained eight of ten
But trying hard to catch the lead
He slipped and fell again.

Defeated! He lay there silently
A tear dropped from his eye
There's no sense in running anymore.
Three strikes; I'm out. Why try?

The will to rise had disappeared. 
All hope had flown away.
so far behind; so error prone-
A loser all the way.

I've lost, so what's the use, he thought,
I'll live with my disgrace.
But then he thought about his dad,
Whom he'd soon have to face.

Get up, an echo sounded low,
Get up and take your place. 
You were not meant for failure here,
Get up and win the race.

With borrowed will, getup, it said. 
You haven't lost at all.
For winning is no more than this:
To rise each time you fall.

So up he rose to run once more
And, with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose
At least he wouldn't quit.

So far behind the others now,
The most he'd ever been,
Still he gave it all he had; 
He ran as though to win.

Three times he'd fallen, stumbling,
Three times he rose again.
Too far behind to hope to win,
He still ran to the end.

They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed the line first place,
Head high, and proud, and happy - 
No falling; no disgrace.

But when the fallen youngster 
Crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer
For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he won the race,
To listen to the crowd.

And to his dad he sadly said,
I didn't do so well.
To me, you won, his father said.
You rose each time you fell.

And now when things seem dark and hard
and difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy
Helps me in my race.

For all of life is like that race,
With ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win 
Is rise each time you fall.

"Quit! Give up! You're beaten!" 
They still shout in my face.
But another voice within me says
Get up and win the race!

-Delbert L. Groberg

The words I say will be few, but I want to sincerely thank both of my amazing fathers for being the incredible examples they have always been to me. For teaching me to love, to reason, to understand, and how to be a real man with a real heart. I love each of them with everything I have, and feel so blessed to have both of them in my life, both blessing me in remarkably different ways. ..Thank you both for encouraging me, and teaching me to rise each time I fall. For always helping me back up, and for making me feel like a winner even when I've come in last place. ..I want the world to know that I have the greatest fathers in the whole universe, and that nothing can stop me from trying to be more like them. Thank you, for being the ones I could go to with problems, concerns, and sometimes to escape the wrath of my wonderful mother. I owe you both more than you could ever imagine, and hope I'm making you proud. Happy Father's Day!!!!

All the love,
Your son,

Elder DeMille

PS - Happy Birthday Elder Higham!!!

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