SUNDAY A SACRED DAY

I attended Brigham Young University from 1970 until my graduation in 1974.  I had never distinguished myself academically.  In fact, Mrs. Matthews’ fourth grade class was my last good year in school.  I just didn’t like going to school.  My lack of devotion to academics affected my need to attend college.  Nobody seemed inclined to extend scholarship assistance to me so I had to pay my own way.  I worked at the salt plant on the shore of the Great Salt Lake during the summer months and found part time work during the school year.  Even though I didn’t particularly enjoy school, I did recognize the value of a college education and chose to pursue it.  For the sake of full transparency, I should mention that having access to all the Cougar football and basketball games superseded my thirst for knowledge.  Nevertheless, I forged ahead, enduring classes that bored me beyond comprehension.  With Provo and Orem being college towns, finding a job wasn’t easy during the time I attended.  For every available job, several students were equally available.  Among the jobs I was fortunate enough to secure while a student, was working for a shoe repair shop.  I lugged a large canvas bag from door to door collecting shoes to be repaired.  For each pair I took into the shop I was paid a small amount.  It wasn’t a glamorous or lucrative job.  I also worked as a gardener’s helper for a wonderful retired gentleman who was crippled with arthritis.  His wealth of gardening knowledge was impressive and I became his legs, arms, and hands, but it didn’t pay the bills.  When I at last landed a job at City Center Gulf, a service station in Orem, I was ecstatic.  Not only was the base pay better than almost anything available at the time but I made commissions on anything I sold while pumping people’s gas.  Oil changes, new tires, any repairs that I lined up all provided me with a cut.  It was the best job I could possibly have found given the circumstances.  There was just one drawback.  I had to work on Sunday.  At first I rationalized that doing so was necessary because my education was important (see above) and I needed this job because of its excellent pay.  But as I missed attending church worship week after week, I started to notice a difference in me.  My spirituality waned.  I knew what I needed to do but I just couldn’t quite make the change.  But at last, I went to my Heavenly Father in prayer.  I thanked Him for the job but told Him I knew I needed a job that didn’t include Sunday work.  I needed and wanted to attend my church meetings and worship Him on His holy day.  I did explain, like He didn’t already know, that I would need a job that would provide me with the money I needed to complete my education.  I couldn’t attend school without it.  As an act of faith, I told Him I would give my employer a two week notice of my intent to quit.  I asked Him if he would help me find a suitable job to replace the one I was leaving.  It was hard, but the next day I gave my notice.  I began frantically searching for a job.  This was well into the school year so there wasn’t much available.  A new shopping mall was being constructed not too far from school.  One of the anchor stores was ZCMI, a large department store that didn’t open on Sunday.  I decided to apply there.  On some days I had morning classes and on others I had afternoon classes.  I decided to apply on a morning of the next day I had afternoon classes.  But before that day arrived, on a day when I had morning classes scheduled, I had the distinct impression to skip class (not that it took much convincing) and go immediately to ZCMI to apply.  Fortunately, I followed the prompting.  I located the HR office and asked if I could submit an application.  The woman at the desk looked at me like I was from Mars.  She gestured toward a large filing cabinet and indicated it was full of applications, far more than it would take to staff the store several times.  She said I would just be wasting my time to apply.  Discouraged but undaunted, I asked if I could fill out an application anyway.  Her reply, given while rolling her eyes, was to the effect of “knock yourself out”.   I sat down and completed the application.  I handed it to her and she looked at me like my educational dollars had been utterly wasted.  I was headed for the door when her phone rang.  I was just at the door when she called to me. “Can you start right now?  They need somebody in the stockroom immediately.”  And thus my two year career in retail began.  Coincidence?  Perhaps, but I don’t believe so.  To me it was, and always will be, an answer to prayer.  An answer that came, I believe, because I exercised my faith in God’s willingness and ability to bless me for obeying one of His commandments.