Late one evening a bishop, discouraged,
prayed in search of increased light and truth,
“What more can I do in my efforts
to strengthen the youth?
I have taught. I have urged and admonished.
I have labored in love by their side.
I’ve called strong, faithful brothers and sisters
to nurture and guide.
Yet in spite of our diligent efforts,
notwithstanding the price gladly paid
to nourish the lambs of our meadow,
still, many have strayed.
We pray for the aid of the Spirit.
We repent when we fail. We renew
each Sabbath our promise of service.
What more can we do?”
With this prayer in his heart, the good bishop
retired to sleep. It would seem
God would answer His servant’s petition
that night in a dream.
He awoke in a lush mountain valley
with millions, no, billions of sheep,
some feeding, some playing, some resting,
and some fast asleep.
In the midst of this idyllic setting,
from the top of a large limestone rock,
The Light of the World, The Good Shepherd,
stood watching His flock.
The bishop made haste to his Savior.
In person he earnestly pled.
The Lord listened, patiently waiting,
then lovingly said,
“Satan’s hosts are intent and united.
Their trappings are many and deep.
It is true that my lambs are in danger,
but what of my sheep?”
“Thy sheep,” said the bishop, “are faithful.
They serve well wherever I ask.
I have called the strong and most able
to help in the task.”
Then, shaking His head, the Lord answered,
“Not the sheep who are doing their best.
What of those who are older and seasoned,
those whom you have let rest?
Those sheep who graze peaceful and sheltered,
who feast on the goodness of God,
but who lift not their eyes from the pasture,
nor their nose from the sod,
except to insure their own children
are safely secure in the fold,
those with offspring now grown and departed,
those who say they’re too old,
those who tell you they merit their leisure
to enjoy relaxation and play.
If the youth of the flock choose to wander,
they feel sorry, but say
‘they have leaders to bring them to safety,
and a bishop to captain the search.’
It is these who must rescue and nurture
the youth of my Church.
It is these, the good sheep of the pasture,
who, once you have taught them the truth,
will be all that you need in your efforts
to strengthen the youth.
You remind them that they too must shepherd,
that no matter how feeble or old,
they have yet much to give to the kingdom
for the good of the fold.
They have gleaned from their labors great wisdom,
from the battles they’ve fought and they’ve won.
They have worn out their lives in my service,
but their work’s far from done.
If my sheep will but fix in their memory
the name and the age of each lamb,
know their hobbies, their talents, and interests,
if each ewe and ram
will search for the chance to encourage,
to listen, to notice, to praise,
share a skill, give a smile or a greeting,
the results will amaze.
I have called all my sheep to the vineyard.
Your ward is their orchard or field.
The greater their efforts to nourish,
the greater the yield.
All my sheep must be joined in the harvest.
If you sparingly sow, thus you’ll reap.
In the effort to keep my lambs pastured
I need all of my sheep
If united you nurture the children,
if all members will share in the cost,
if all of my sheep will be shepherds,
not one lamb will be lost.”
The bishop awoke, humbly grateful
and determined his promise to keep:
God’s lambs he’d more zealously shepherd
using all of the sheep.

I will be forever indebted to those good people of the Hillcrest 1st Ward (formally the Logan 22nd Ward), as well as to other members of the Logan Utah East Stake, who have had such a positive influence on my children. Their unselfish service as Primary and Youth leaders and teachers has complimented our efforts at home to bring up our children in light and truth. I am especially grateful to those who without being specifically "called" have taken an interest in my children. One of the most painful experiences I have had to endure as a teacher and leader of Latter-day Saint youth has been watching helplessly as some young people make decisions that lead them away from the Spirit and the Church. Sometimes the best efforts of parents and leaders have not been enough. It takes more. It really does take a village, or, in the Church, a ward, to raise a child. The poem is a reminder that we all have a part to play in our ward families. It is an invitation to all members of the Church to ask themselves the following question: "If the bishop, with all he has to do, knows the names of, and something about, all the young members of his ward and regularly takes time to interact with them, should not I know too and likewise do?"