This is my version of Elder Lambert's story. It could never be told the way he did, but I hope this can be a reminder of the very strong feelings we all had.

- Anziano Patrick Daniels

There was once a very old man who had worked very hard throughout his life for everything he owned—the comforts his family enjoyed. He knew his days were short, so he wanted his company—a business he nurtured his entire life—to be passed on. This man had only one son, whom he loved dearly. For whom he had worked so hard, had given so much love and so much comfort to, that the son never had to work a day in his 29 years. The son was so well provided for that his problems never confronted him, he never had to face the consequences of his actions. The father spent his life working through his own mistakes toward the success he had earned through mind-bending, back-breaking labor. Above all other things the father knew the value of work, which caused him to give dedication, to make sacrifices in order to gain.

The father knew success would never come to his son unless he learned how to work. Unless he learned what it is to try, and fail. To try again, and fail. And to give everything, to work hard, to succeed.

One afternoon the father called the son into his beautiful office. On entering, the son was warmed by the complaisant fire, burning quietly beside his father's desk. The walls were filled with the memories of summer vacations—running through the tide, lapping up the sun, climbing side by side before the dawn to watch in amazement the orange-golden sun piercing the night and exploding on the horizon.

The son gave a hearty hello, but his father was quiet. The man looked up from his desk, where his hands were clasped as if gathering strength. He rose to his feet, spreading his hands across his desk, toward his walls, and said, "Son, work. Get a job, show me you can bring me a thousand dollars, and I'll give all of this to you."

The son left amused. His old father was going to sell him the company for only a thousand dollars. The son went immediately to his mother, who had always solved his problems. She bought him some work clothes and sent him back to his father one week later. The son laid the money on the desk, telling his father he had worked for it. The old man took the money in his hands, glanced briefly into his son's eyes, and flung the money into the fire. The son smirked, thinking his father was crazy. The old man said firmly, "That was not your money. Go out and earn it."

The son returned to his mother, looking for an answer. She told him to borrow the gardener's clothes, wait one month, then return to the father with another thousand dollars she had given him The time passed lazily as the son immersed himself in celebrations of his fortune. He returned again to his father, out of place in the dirt-stiffened clothes. He laid the money on the desk, saying, "Here is a thousand dollars which I earned." Again the father took it into his hands, and glancing briefly, he threw the money into the fire. The son was stunned, wondering what his father wanted. The old man spoke, "That was not your money. I'll give you one more chance. Work. Earn a thousand dollars and I will give you everything."

The son returned again to his mother, but she could not help him any longer. The son had nowhere to turn, only to himself. The burden rested on his shoulders alone.

He hunted for work. He scraped and saved, and did all that he could to accomplish his goal.

One year later the son returned again to his father. His clothes were dirty and his hands roughened, but he was proud. He had sacrificed, and given all his strength because he found dedication in his work. He placed his money on the father's desk.

"Father, here is a thousand dollars which I worked for and earned."

The old man took the money shakily into his hands, and searched the eyes of his much loved son. To the son, his father's eyes seemed to plead, then the man flung the money into the fire. A cry filled the room as the son groped among the flames in a furious effort to salvage all that he had worked for, and given for.

The son was crushed, overcome by his loss. The thought of his efforts being in vain was too much for him to bear, and he sobbed, expending all the energy of his heart.

Then, a calming and firm hand rested on his shoulder. He turned to look into the loving eyes of his father, who said, "Everything I have is yours."