By Stephanie McMillan
Grammy and G.G., as my great-grandparents were affectionately known, married in the year 1929 and homesteaded a sheep ranch in the wilds of Montana. Their ranch on Big Sheep Creek was miles away from any other civilization. It was this picturesque but lonely mountain that served as welcome for my great-grandmother, Afton, a new young bride. She was eighteen when she married Lewis, a handsome young man who had stolen her heart.

On Afton’s first day in their home, she scurried about, cooking, cleaning, making it a place of their own. About an hour before he came in from tending the sheep, she excitedly began preparing her first dinner for her husband. Though she “didn’t know a lick” about cooking, she figured beans couldn’t be that difficult, so she put the pot on the stove and readied the table. When her young husband came in for his supper, she lovingly served him, much too excited to sit and eat with him. He gratefully ate his bowl, and then returned to his chores. Only after he was gone did she fill her own bowl to realize that beans don’t cook in just one hour. She couldn’t choke down even one bite.

She learned two lessons that day; one in cooking and one in love. Though later years would bring their own heartaches and trials, this first instance of showing love was perhaps a key element that allowed their marriage to survive its 65 anniversaries. Years later, he joined the Church and they were sealed in the Idaho Falls temple. Their time together paused briefly when Lewis passed away in 1994. They were reunited when Afton returned Home last summer.

My sweet Grammy shared that story with me when she was in her prime, a 90-year-old angel of a woman. It had perhaps been softened and mellowed over time into a rose-colored recollection, but I love the tenderness of the memory. I like to picture this rough, work-hardened man concerned less about himself in that moment than the feelings of his new bride.

We live in a world where we are taught to “share our feelings,” to be “open and honest,” and to “vent” rather than holding on to pent up emotions. Indeed, there are times when these strategies are best. But what a beautiful lesson could at times be learned from eating raw beans in a spirit of love.

How many times have we spoken quickly, harshly, without considering the feelings of one we love so dearly, and then later regretted the hurt we have caused? Though difficult, the mastery of holding our tongue in order to phrase our words with love will bless our marriages and families and even reach beyond the borders of our own homes.

Sadly, for most of us who are still seeking refinement, the tendency of the natural man is to react first and think later, to speak the initial unkind thing that comes to mind. King Benjamin spoke quite forcefully when he declared that this “natural man is an enemy to God… and will be, forever and ever, unless he yields to the enticings of the Holy Spirit,” He further instructs that to put off the natural man we must become “as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love.” (Mosiah 3:19) Each of these attributes is definitely worth seeking as we strive to improve communication with our spouse.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland said, “Our words, like our deeds, should be filled with faith and hope and charity, the three great Christian imperatives so desperately needed in the world today. With such words, spoken under the influence of the Spirit, tears can be dried, hearts can be healed, lives can be elevated, hope can return, confidence can prevail.” (Jeffrey R. Holland, “The Tongue of Angels,” Ensign, May 2007, 16–18)

President Hinckley was a stalwart example in the love and respect he showed his eternal companion, Marjorie. He taught, “The basis of a good marriage is mutual respect—respect for one another, a concern for the comfort and well-being of one another. That is the key. If a husband would think less of himself and more of his wife, we’d have happier homes throughout the Church and throughout the world.” (“At Home with the Hinckleys,” Liahona, Oct 2003, 32)
I’m sure President Hinckley would have responded much as my great-grandfather did had he been seated at that farmhouse table 80 years ago. As we look to marriage as a goal or contemplate our own marriages today, we would do well to remember that sometimes love is shown best in eating a bowl of uncooked beans and heading back to work with a smile.