The other thing I was struck by is how much Elder Holland's talk about the Savior touched so many people. All I heard from other church members after Conference were things like, "What did you think of Elder Holland's talk?" or "Wasn't Elder Holland's talk amazing?" It was; it is. It's an instant classic. Elder Holland has always been one of my favorite speakers; there are a few of his talks I've listened to and re-read many times. I love his talk As Doves to Our Windows he gave in April 2000. I also really enjoy his talk Broken Things to Mend. A talk I particularly love is his talk An High Priest of Good Things To Come, which he gave in October 1999. I think I've listened to that talk at least 10 times, maybe 20. While his talks are frequently encouraging to those who suffer or who are sad or who feel lost, that talk is particularly comforting. In it he tells the story of a young father setting across the country with his young family to attend school. I'll reprint the story here.
"Forgive me for a personal conclusion, which does not represent the terrible burdens so many of you carry but it is meant to be encouraging. Thirty years ago last month, a little family set out to cross the United States to attend graduate school--no money, an old car, every earthly possession they owned packed into less than half the space of the smallest U-Haul trailer available. Bidding their apprehensive parents farewell, they drove exactly 34 miles up the highway, at which point their beleaguered car erupted.As with any of his talks, as wonderful as they are to read, they are even better when listened to. Here is the link to the audio of that talk (I believe it requires Windows Media Player or something that can play the format).
"Pulling off the freeway onto a frontage road, the young father surveyed the steam, matched it with his own, then left his trusting wife and two innocent children--the youngest just three months old--to wait in the car while he walked the three miles or so to the southern Utah metropolis of Kanarraville, population then, I suppose, 65. Some water was secured at the edge of town, and a very kind citizen offered a drive back to the stranded family. The car was attended to and slowly--very slowly--driven back to St. George for inspection--U-Haul trailer and all.
"After more than two hours of checking and rechecking, no immediate problem could be detected, so once again the journey was begun. In exactly the same amount of elapsed time at exactly the same location on that highway with exactly the same pyrotechnics from under the hood, the car exploded again. It could not have been 15 feet from the earlier collapse, probably not 5 feet from it! Obviously the most precise laws of automotive physics were at work.
"Now feeling more foolish than angry, the chagrined young father once more left his trusting loved ones and started the long walk for help once again. This time the man providing the water said, 'Either you or that fellow who looks just like you ought to get a new radiator for that car.' For the second time a kind neighbor offered a lift back to the same automobile and its anxious little occupants. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry at the plight of this young family.
"'How far have you come?' he said. 'Thirty-four miles,' I answered. 'How much farther do you have to go?' 'Twenty-six hundred miles,' I said. 'Well, you might make that trip, and your wife and those two little kiddies might make that trip, but none of you are going to make it in that car.' He proved to be prophetic on all counts.
"Just two weeks ago this weekend, I drove by that exact spot where the freeway turnoff leads to a frontage road, just three miles or so west of Kanarraville, Utah. That same beautiful and loyal wife, my dearest friend and greatest supporter for all these years, was curled up asleep in the seat beside me. The two children in the story, and the little brother who later joined them, have long since grown up and served missions, married perfectly, and are now raising children of their own. The automobile we were driving this time was modest but very pleasant and very safe. In fact, except for me and my lovely Pat situated so peacefully at my side, nothing of that moment two weeks ago was even remotely like the distressing circumstances of three decades earlier.
"Yet in my mind's eye, for just an instant, I thought perhaps I saw on that side road an old car with a devoted young wife and two little children making the best of a bad situation there. Just ahead of them I imagined that I saw a young fellow walking toward Kanarraville, with plenty of distance still ahead of him. His shoulders seemed to be slumping a little, the weight of a young father's fear evident in his pace. In the scriptural phrase his hands did seem to hang down.' In that imaginary instant, I couldn't help calling out to him: 'Don't give up, boy. Don't you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead--a lot of it--30 years of it now, and still counting. You keep your chin up. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come.'"