I know Relief Society has been inspired by the Lord to place an emphasis upon the role of mothers as nurturers, and their divine privilege not only to bear the children of this last dispensation, but also to care for them physically, spiritually, culturally and emotionally. This is an emphasis that will bring eternal joy to all those who hear and heed it.
I'd like to share an experience I had that helped me understand the importance of my role as a mother. Right after my first novel was published I was interviewed by a large East Coast newspaper for a feature article. The reporters came to my home in Connecticut on a Saturday morning. They were two attractive and sophisticated New York women who had graduated from a prestigious Ivy League school. Both had achieved considerable success in journalism.The lead reporter was about 30, had been an editor of Seventeen magazine, had worked for several major publications, and was now a sought-after feature writer. She was dressed in the latest fashion and seemed the ultimately successful career woman.
I must confess that I was a little chagrined as the morning progressed. I was trying so hard to give the appearance of a professional writer, but every few minutes one of my children would pop into the living room with a problem or a question. My boys were playing a noisy game in the family room, the stereo was on in the basement play room, and the phone would not stop ringing. Neighborhood friends ran in and out the doors, and finally, my 5-year-old (who had had enough of having to "stay out of the living room") came bouncing in with a smile and plunked herself down on my lap.
We finished the interview, which had taken about two hours, and the reporters got up to leave. The younger one asked if she could use my phone. As she left, the cool and sophisticated senior reporter walked over and sat down on the couch next to me.
"There's something I want to tell you," she said intensely.
I looked at her in surprise. Very slowly, she said, "I just want you to know that we were sold a lie."
"What do you mean?" I asked, totally puzzled.
"I mean, when I went to college they lied to us," she replied. "They told us we were brilliant, and that we had the obligation to seek success. We were told not to throw our lives away on husbands and children, but to go out into the world and to succeed. We were told that only through a professional career could we `find ourselves' or live a worthwhile life.
"I just want you to know that this morning I have realized it was all a lie. I have come to know that a career is not a life - it is only something you do until you find a life. Life is what you are.
"I would like to tell you I would trade all my so-called worldly success for one day of living your life."
These and other incidents in my life have developed in me a strong, practical conviction that, whenever possible, it is of critical importance that a mother stays at home with her children.
