The Windows of Heaven

There is one gospel principle that I have never questioned--the law of tithing. I grew up hearing my mother talk her tithing in a way that left no doubt in my young mind that this was a commandment I must obey.

Last week the missionaries taught a discussion at our house and the topic of tithing came up. I tried to be quiet, I really did. I think that perhaps steam was coming out of my ears with the effort to not talk. But finally I gave in and begged to be able to tell my tithing story.

(If I make any mistakes, please forgive me. It has been many years now since I have been able to hear my mom tell her story...)


My maternal grandmother died when my mother was still a teenager, the second child in a family of seven children. Within a couple of years of my grandmother's death, one of her young sons began talking to the Mormon missionaries. My mom was concerned about her brother and so she went with him to meet these missionaries. The rest, as they say, is history; my mother believed what they taught and was baptized.


Several years later my mom decided that she wanted to go to BYU. She had been working and saving money so that she could do this. Before she left, however, she and one of her brothers decided that it would be best for the well-being of their younger siblings if the two of them bought the mortgage on their family home. So off to Utah she went, full of hopes and dreams, but carrying an unusual financial burden.

My mom's Utah experience was not all she had hoped it would be. She had to find a job to pay her own expenses and her half of the mortgage at home. She applied for many jobs only to be told that those jobs were saved for the children of the people who worked there. She ended up working a full time job that was far from campus, and only being able to go to school part time. At one point her good shoes wore out and she had to walk back and forth to work in high-heeled shoes because they were all she had.

My mom was lonely in Utah. She came not knowing anyone, and missed her family in South Carolina. As the end of the first semester approached she wanted desperately to go home to South Carolina for Christmas. A round trip ticket on the bus would cost eighty dollars.

My mom had exactly (and only) eighty dollars. There was just one problem — that eighty dollars was her tithing.

She went to her bishop on campus and explained her situation, looking for advice. He told her that he couldn't give her any; whether or not she paid her tithing was between her and the Lord.

My mom went back to her apartment, got her money, and paid her tithing. I cannot imagine her thoughts and emotions in that moment. Realizing that her decision to obey God's law to tithe meant that she would spend the Christmas sad and alone instead of with her family. Throughout my life as I have imagined this part of her story it has always seemed like a dark and somber time for her.

A day or two later there was an unexpected letter in the mail. It was from my mom's aunt; her mother's sister. Her aunt wrote that she had managed to save away a little money and she was sending it to my mom, hoping that it would be enough to help her travel from Utah to South Carolina for Christmas.

The letter contained a check for fifty dollars.

Can you imagine my mom's feelings at this gift of love? She told us as we were growing up that her uncle was very mean to her aunt, and that her aunt would have had to hide away money for months in order to send her so much money. She must have been amazed at her aunt's love and caring. But fifty dollars was still not enough to buy a bus ticket, and she didn't have any more money.

At some point she remembered that on the BYU campus was a "ride board." It was a map with messages telling of people looking for rides from BYU to somewhere else, or drivers looking for riders to help share their travel costs. My mom went to campus and looked to see if anyone was driving to South Carolina for Christmas that year. She was so happy to find a message from someone driving from BYU to South Carolina, offering to take people with them for fifty dollars.

That someone was my dad.

I have never for a moment in my life, even when it has been hard to pay tithing, forgotten that it was only through my mom's faith and willingness to sacrifice all that she had to be obedient to the Lord, that she met my father.

Each time I pay my tithing, I honor her courage. I want to be like my mother. I hope that when all is said and done, my children have similarly been blessed by my resolve to obey the Lord — even (or especially) when it is difficult.