{"chapter_no":"20","chapter_title":"A New Home in Springville","book_id":"3","book_name":"Springville","subchapter_no":"0","page_no":"477","page_number":"1","verses_count":0,"total_pages":5,"page_content":"

<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Chapter 20<\/span><\/p>

A New Home in Springville<\/span><\/h1><\/p>

 <\/p>

Grant and Carolyn settle into the Springville area—They are visited by local representatives of <\/i>
the Church<\/i> and pleasantly surprised by what they see.<\/i><\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

 <\/p>

Grant and Carolyn’s new home was located in the Hobble Creek 2nd Ward and, in fact,
was only one house down from the residence of Leonard and Carina Hunter. The house was
roughly the same size as that of the Hunters, having three bedrooms and two full bathrooms, but
with a much larger yard to care for––larger gardens, more trees and bushes, and more lawn to
cut. The home had a good size two-car garage, although it was currently filled with moving
boxes. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Impressed with the flower arrangements that she had seen at the Preston England Temple,
Carolyn had decided to implement a few of those ideas in her own garden. Her love of flowers
was similar to that of Bishop Myriel of D––:<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

The garden, which had been rather spoiled by the ugly buildings which we have
mentioned, was composed of four alleys in cross-form, radiating from a tank. Another walk made
the circuit of the garden, and skirted the white wall which enclosed it. These alleys left<\/i> <\/i>behind
them four square plots rimmed with box. In three of these, Madame Magloire cultivated
vegetables; in the fourth, the Bishop had planted some flowers; here and there stood a few fruit-
trees. <\/i><\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Madame Magloire had once remarked, with a sort of gentle malice<\/i>: <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

\"Monseigneur, you who turn everything to account, have, nevertheless, one useless plot.
It would be better to grow salads there than bouquets.\" <\/i><\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

\"Madame Magloire,\" retorted the Bishop<\/i>,<\/i> \"you are mistaken. The beautiful is as useful as
the useful.\" <\/i><\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

He added after a pause, \"More so, perhaps.\"<\/i><\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Newly moved in, the day quickly arrived for Grant to make his first appearance in years
at the downtown office of his brother’s company. Serving full time in the Church, he had been
out of the loop and had contributed little in the way of time or ideas. He had, however, remained
in contact with the key players and had helped out whenever he could. Nevertheless, his brother <\/p>

was excited to have him back again, even directing his secretary to tie a yellow ribbon around the
door of Grant’s new office for his first day back, something that created a joyous and very
emotional experience for Grant when he saw it. Semiretired, his hope was to work ten to fifteen
hours a week. He would assist his brother in the overall management of the firm and, most
especially, in the day-to-day decisions involving the European operations. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

At the conclusion of the first day’s meetings that ended at 3:30, Grant was dropped off in
front of his home by his brother. After entering the house and changing his clothes, he made his
way over to the garage to see what was left to be unpacked. Wishing to complete the task at hand
quickly, and not much concerned about which items were to be kept and which were to be
thrown away, the garage was soon filled with loud banging noises, coupled with the opening and
closing of the home’s large and sturdy trash container provided by the city. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Alarmed, Carolyn put down her rose clippers and made her way over to the garage.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“What are you doing?” she asked.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Uhh,” muttered Grant, turning around in surprise. “Oh... I was just going through some
of these larger boxes.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Walking over to the trash container, Carolyn opened the lid and began fishing through the
discarded items.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Why are you throwing all of these things away?”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

She pulled things out––old dinner plates and silverware, children’s clothes, toys, a picture
frame, and a cuckoo clock. Gently, she placed each item on top of nearby boxes. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Suddenly aghast, she exclaimed,<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Oh honey, look what you've done! See the small beak on the tiny bird inside the cuckoo
clock. You broke it! <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Why couldn’t you have asked me first? I wanted to keep this. Now look at it! It probably
doesn’t even work anymore! Monika Hoffman gave this to us as a gift when we visited them in
Stuttgart years ago.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Grant moved towards her. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t think! But I’m sure we can get
it fixed.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

She reacted somewhat coldly to him. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Carol, I’m really sorry! You’re right. I should have asked you,” he said.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

She held the broken little bird from the clock in her hands, the sight of which almost
made her cry. <\/p>

<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“It’s okay,” she said, still studying the damaged bird.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Trying it again, she tested the clock door and the spring—the clock was still functional.
Only the beak had broken off. What a relief!<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Suddenly, there was a call from the sidewalk behind them. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Hello there! Do you have a moment?” <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

A man was calling over to them. Beside him was a young man around sixteen or
seventeen years old. Both were well-groomed and wore suits.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Embarrassed, Carolyn turned around, smiled, and tried to act normal; her cheeks were
slightly reddened with a blush. Grant moved out of the garage a step ahead of her to greet the
two strangers. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Hello, I’m Brother Mark Chandler, and this is my companion Brother Josh Padley.
We’re members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I noticed a few days ago that
someone had bought the Peterson home. Are you the new owners?”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Yes,” said Grant as he moved to shake his hand. “I’m Grant Williams, and this is my
wife Carolyn. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“We’re members of the Church. What ward do we belong to now?”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“This is the Hobble Creek 2nd Ward. Our meetings start at 11:00,” said Josh. “My father
is Weston Padley. We live just down the block.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Fine,” replied Grant. “We were already planning to come this Sunday.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Looking at Brother Chandler, his age, his manner of dress, his scriptures and notebook in
hand, his command of the situation, and his presence here at 3:45 on a weekday afternoon, Grant
inquired, “So, are you the bishop?”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“No, that would be Bishop Swenson,” said Brother Chandler. “He lives just two blocks
over from here. It’s a white house with a tan roof. I’m going to be meeting with him in another
three hours. I’ll mention to them that you've moved in and will be at church this Sunday.” <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Opening up his notebook, Brother Chandler scribbled some notes. “So, is it just the two
of you? Do you have any children living with you?”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“No,” said Carolyn. “All of our children are grown now. But they all live here in the
valley, so we’ll be having them come to church with us occasionally.”<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

<\/span><\/p>

“That’s great,” said Brother Chandler, listening as he wrote. “If possible, we’d like to
come by on another day to visit and get to know you better. When would be a good time for
you?” <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Most any evening is fine,” said Grant.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Okay, then let’s set it up for this coming Tuesday night at 7:30. By then we should have
a new companionship in the ward assigned to you, and we’ll have their names and phone
numbers.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Wonderful,” said Grant.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Is there anything you need right away? Help getting settled in?” <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“No, I think we’re good for the moment. We had movers do all the big stuff for us.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“And your name again?” asked Carolyn, now fully recovered from the cuckoo clock
incident and displaying her customary smile.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Mark Chandler.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“And where do you live?”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/span><\/p>

“My wife Kathleen and I live over on 1100 East, about a mile and a half from here on the
other side of the stake.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Brother Chandler is the stake president,” said Josh. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Oh, I see,” said Carolyn, very surprised. “So you’re the stake president. It’s a great
pleasure to meet you! We look forward to having you come by then on Tuesday. I’ll have some
homemade apple strudel ready for you when you get here!”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Apple strudel? Excellent!” said Brother Chandler. “I’ll probably have a different
companion with me on Tuesday night, but I’ll make sure Josh here gets some of that strudel from
you as well.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

After shaking hands, Brother Chandler and Josh departed. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Grant watched them walk away with some interest.<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“So, he’s the stake president? Strange he would be out walking around like this on a
weekday afternoon. It’s not even his ward.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

Carolyn, somewhat curious herself, replied back.<\/span><\/p>

<\/p>

<\/span><\/p>

“Yes, I was thinking the same thing. Maybe he was doing some kind of special training
or something.”<\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

The two returned to the garage. <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Carol,” said Grant, a bit of frustration showing in his eyes. “I won't touch any more of
these boxes until you've had a chance to go through them, okay?” <\/span><\/p>

 <\/p>

“Yes. I'm sorry, honey,” said Carolyn. “Why don't you go inside and watch a little TV? I
was planning to unpack these last few boxes myself.”<\/p>"}