The day I give my daughter’s hand,
it is this father’s right
to counsel his new son-in-law.
My purpose is to shed some light
on how you pray together.
It’s good advice. And if you’re smart
you’ll listen to me carefully
and take my words to heart.
I mean to speak of family prayer
by way of metaphor,
beginning with a story ‘bout
a man who lived next door:
an older gent, an austere sort,
who seldom spoke to me.
He asked me once to fix my fence
that leaned against his apple tree.
I said I would, but put it off
‘til one bright autumn day while we,
the youngest of my girls and I,
were raking up the fallen leaves,
I spotted him as he drew near,
quite sure that his approach
was prompted by my negligence.
I braced for his reproach.
And yet he did not speak to me.
Instead, he crouched so he could look
into my daughter’s puzzled eyes.
His notice of her took
her by surprise. She was not used
to having the attention
directed first to her. He smiled,
then asked this simple question:
“Are you the girl who helped my wife,
on your way home from school,
take in the sacks of groceries
on Thursday afternoon?
Your gracious act of kindness
did more than you could know.
My wife was rather down that day,
feeling kind of sad and low.
Thank you for your thoughtfulness.
It made her day. You see,
she needed cheering up,” he said,
and then he turned to me.
“You must be proud to be the Dad
of one so sweet and kind.
Young folks who think of others first
are rare, quite hard to find.”
He thanked her once again; he stood;
and then we said goodbye.
My daughter spent that evening with
a twinkle in her eye.
She helped me with the dishes,
she spent an hour doing math,
she tidied up her bedroom,
she gave the dog a bath.
And every Thursday since that day
for years she stood beside our door
and watched for when our neighbor's wife
arrived home from the grocery store.
I too saw things much differently.
It didn’t take me long to mend
the fence. And now my neighbor
is a dear and cherished friend.
So each time that you humbly kneel
together at the close of day
and speak with God your Father,
make sure, when its your turn, you say
you’re grateful for His daughter,
you’re glad that she’s your wife.
Tell Him everything she’s done
that day to bless your life.
Praise her for her courage.
Commend her for her strength.
Recite all that she means to you.
Take your time, describe at length
her efforts to live worthily,
her constancy, her zest,
the confidence she has in you
that helps you do your best.
Next ask her loving Father
to bless you as you try
to help her meet her challenges.
Pledge to be the reason why
her heart is filled with gratitude,
she feels protected and secure,
and needs not fear the world because
she knows you’re there for her.
Of all the things you value,
tell God she has the greatest worth
and that her trust means more to you
than any thing on earth.

Together as you face life’s test,
you’ll find that there’s no better way
to tell her how much she is loved
than by the way you pray.

My third daughter, Ruth, was the fourth to marry. I’m thrilled with her choice—I’m thrilled with all my daughters’ choices. In this poem, I take the liberty of giving the same suggestion to her husband, Kyle (and to her, too), that I give to young engaged couples who attend a communication in marriage class I teach once each month as part of my assignment in the student stake where I am a member of the stake high council. I believe that the husband who praises and prays for his wife in her presence and the wife who praises and prays for her husband in his presence will always have a loving Heavenly Father’s attention (and each other’s), and the little disagreements that are always a part of marriage will never grow into the big ones that can destroy it.