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Stand Fast
by James H. Lee Jr.

Oh youth of the noble birthright,
Stand fast against the foe,
Let not your life be wasted
While dwelling here below.

Seek not the world's pleasures
Which tend to pull you down,
But rise to the occasion,
Look up and win the crown.

Yield not to peer group pressures
that may your soul ensnare,
But yield unto the Spirit
Which keeps you bright and fair.

Don't choose the paths of Satan,
But choose the path of God,
That straight and narrow pathway,
And grasp the Iron Rod.

You are the Father's jewels,
as precious as can be,
And He has placed you here on earth
To shape your destiny.

Your cheering team awaits you
Beyond the setting sun,
Where you may find eternal joy
When your life's work is done.

Rise up to the occasion,
Be all that you can be,
A precious jewel of heaven,
A God eternally.
James H. Lee Jr.
Copyright 1988
This very special poem which I received some years ago from the Savior of the World is not something which I sat around and thought up, but was given to me without my forethought as to what I wanted to say, for a dear friend I met while out sharing my little books of Heart Thoughts about When a Baby Dies, and Heart Thoughts for Those Who Grieve and Mourn."

I was driving past one of the Mortuaries here in the Salt Lake Valley, and the Spirit said to me, "Go in there, help is needed." I didn't follow the promptings of the Spirit that day, as I was on my way going to another place, and didn't have time to stop.

The next day, I was driving past there, and the Spirit said, "Go in there, help is needed." But I drove on past the entrance to the building there, and it came again more strongly this time, "Go in there, help is needed." So I turned around and drove into the parking lot and parked my car. I sat there for a minute, and then got out of my car and went inside.

A man came up to me and asked if he could help me. I told him I wanted to see the manager, and he said, "I am he." So I asked him if I could visit with him a few moments, and he invited me into his office, and sat down behind his desk, waiting for me to talk.

I showed him my little books of poetry which I had published for those who grieve and mourn, and for when a baby dies, and said that I had been going around sharing them with the directors of the Mortuaries in the valley, in hopes that they would purchase them for the $3.00 which I charged for them, so they could give them to those who had lost a loved one or a baby.

He looked at them a moment and said that they had a whole library of such books that people could check out if they wanted to, and suggested I might donate one of each to put in their library.

Then he said something which made me change my mind. He said, "For some reason I feel that this isn't the reason why you are here."

As we sat there visiting, I shared with him that I had been directed to go there through the Spirit, and that I had often been sent to meet people with whom the Lord wanted me to share a message of love, hope and encouragement, so that they could go on with their lives, and I had been directed to come to meet with him.

I asked him what was happening in his life at that moment. He said that he and his wife had been asked to speak in Church the next Sunday. I asked him what he was going to talk about, and he said, "They want us to share with the members of our Ward how we have survived the ordeal." I said, "What ordeal?" Then he said, "A year ago our 21 year old son committed suicide, and they want us to share how we have survived the ordeal. I have racked my brain for the past two weeks, and can't imagine what I could say that would make a difference. Maybe you have a poem I could share with them."

So I took out my spiral notebook which I carry with me all the time, and read several poems to him, but none of them would do, so I told him I'm sure I would receive a message for him to share soon.

I stood up and we shook hands and I left, and went about my business that day.

That night, as I was working at the bakery here in Salt Lake, I couldn't get his son off my mind. I kept feeling that he was on the other side of the veil trying to reach through to his dad to tell him he was sorry, but for some reason wasn't able to do so.

The next morning, after a couple of hours of sleep, I arose and went to visit with my new friend. When he saw me, he came and asked if I had received the message, and I asked him "What message," thinking he had called and left a message on my phone. He said, "you know, the message I am suppose to share with my Ward." I told him I hadn't, but wanted to talk to him.

So we went into his office, and I explained to him that all night I had been thinking of his son on the other side of the veil trying to reach through to him, but for some reason was not able to do so. Then I asked him if he had had any contact with his son since he committed suicide, and he said he hadn't.

I then asked him: "What would you say to your son if he was sitting in this chair beside me right now, and you had five minutes?" He broke down and cried, and I stood up and went around the desk to his side, and put my arms around him and just held him close to me. I told him "I love you," and he said, "I know. I have felt that love since the moment you came into my office the first time. That's why I said when I first met you that I didn't think that you had come to sell me some of those little books to share."

When he stopped crying, I returned to my seat and I repeated the question, "What would you say to your son if he was sitting right here beside me in this chair and you had five minutes." He said, "I would tell him I love him." And I said, "Well, dad, he needs to hear that." And he asked, "How can I tell him?" And it came to me immediately, and I said "Write him a letter." "Where do I mail it?" He said, and instantly the answer came to me. "You don't mail it, you get up in Sacrament Meeting next Sunday and you read it to him. He will be there on assignment from the Lord, so that he can see first hand the effects his actions have had on mom and dad."

He sat there for a minute, and then I saw a shadow lift from his being, and his face lighted up, and he said, "I'll do it!!" I said, "Promise me that you will write the letter and read it in Sacrament Meeting." He said, "I will."

I stood to leave and he came around and put his arms around me, and we held each other for a long time. He said, "I feel so good inside, and am so happy to meet a kindred spirit whom God has sent to help me at this hour. I am so happy." Then we both hugged each other and cried.

The next night I went to work, and never thought once about his son on the other side of the veil trying to reach him. The next morning after a couple of hours of sleep, I awoke, and realized it was time to record the message from the Lord for my friend. I reached for my spiral notebook and opened it, then took my pen in hand, and the message, "Stand Fast" flowed into my being, and I recorded it exactly as it was given me. After I had recorded it, I lay back down on my pillow and read it, and cried, because I knew who had given me the message, and who it was for.

I got up and dressed quickly, then went to my typewriter and typed it up, then went to the copy shop and made some copies of it, then went to see my friend again. When I went into his business he saw me come in, and he immediately left the people he was talking with, and came to me and asked, "Did you get the message?" I replied, "Yes, and I want to share it with you."

We went into his office and I handed him a copy of the poem as he sat down in his chair behind the desk. As he read it, tears streamed down his cheeks, and finally he said to me, "How did you know what was in my heart that I wanted to say, but didn't know how to say it? How did you know? I never told you anything I was thinking about, but every detail has been included in this poem." I told him, "I didn't know, but He who gave me the message knew what was in your heart, and He it is who gave me the message, and He it is who wants you to share it with the young people of your Ward to let them know how precious they are to He and Heavenly Father. Will you share it with them next Sunday?" "Yes, I will share it gladly." He said.

As I stood to leave, he came around from behind his desk, and embraced me again, and we both cried and cried as we embraced each other, even as I am crying right now in remembering this wonderful experience. There was a feeling in my heart at that moment as if Jesus Christ himself was putting His arms around me. It was wonderful.

As we parted he said to me, "Please come and see me again." And I told him I would be back. I told him that it would be hard, and he would cry, but that was okay, because his son needed to see that, and to know the heartache he had caused he and his wife to bear because of his taking his own life.
 
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