As father of the bride it falls
to me to speak and raise a toast,
and wish for her, dear son-in-law,
two simple things that matter most.
Laughter heals the soul, they say.
It's true, I readily agree.
And so, I hope you'll make her laugh,
if not each day, then two in three.
But life is more than fun and games,
and there are special reasons why
I hope that you, from time to time,
will also make my daughter cry.
I do not mean you be the cause
of tears born out of hurt or doubt.
The tears I have in mind for her
are tears I will be pleased about:
the tears that come while pondering,
as she is often prone to do;
as she recounts her blessings, may
her eyes be moist because of you.
And may the windows to her soul
shine iridescent in her need,
as you lay hands upon her head
and plead with God to intercede.
And as you cradle in your arms
her firstborn baby girl or boy,
may my sweet daughter's eyes be drenched
in tears of gratitude and joy.
And why? Because she's chosen well,
because her mind can rest assured
together you will raise that child
according to the Savior's word.
The sacred "yes" she heard today
will echo gently in her heart
and prompt a quiet tear or two
of trust at times when you're apart.
And as she sees you often raise
your arm while clothed in robes of white,
may each eye house a tear of faith
that gleams and sparkles in the light.
May deference and tenderness
forever prove to be the way
you love your wife and children.
And so, may I be heard to say,
"I'm proud of such a son-in-law
and let me tell the reason why:
Because he makes my daughter laugh,
but, too...because he makes her cry."

On January 21, 2006, my fourth daughter, Susan, married Clark Johnson in the Logan Temple. Two days before the wedding, I started a poem that I planned to eventually give to Clark—maybe as a birthday present. As it turned out, I got caught up in the writing and worked on it late into the night so that I could read it as part of my comments at the wedding luncheon. I hope it conveys in poetic language the sum of what I hope and pray will be Susan’s—and all my daughters’—life experience as mother and wife. It’s not an easy thing for a father to turn over the care of a cherished daughter to her chosen companion. The fact that he is a fine young man and I’m thrilled with her choice helps immensely, but I still add it to the list of the many acts of faith that are required of us as parents—probably the most important one. Someone told me once that it would be hard to be one of my sons-in-law, because I expect so much of them. It’s true; I expect a lot; but no more than I expect of myself, and no more than God expects of all to whom He entrusts His daughters, and His priesthood.