Pride is one of those bugaboos, for me, and, I suspect, for others. Putting aside pride is more than difficult. It requires a humility and meekness of heart that frequently eludes me.
In reading from my grandmother's personal history, I came across an incident that reminds me of the importance of setting aside pride.
(A little note here: my Grandmother McBride, referred here as "Sister Hubbard," met my grandfather when he was a widower with three young children.) The following is in her words:
"The Bishop had told him (Don Carlos McBride, my grandfather) there was a Sister Hubbard ... So that was my first introduction to Don C. McBride. I knew him when I saw him and had for a long time, but he never even knew I existed. He, as a stake officer, and I, as a ward officer, became quite well acquainted, and by December, 1913, were planning to get married. Then through a little misunderstanding we quit keeping company for about two months. I surely found I wanted him, and he said he was convinced he needed and wanted me. We finally put our pride in our pocket and made up. I might say that was our last trouble or mmisiunderstanding. We came to know each other better every day and became nearer to each other until it seemed he knew my desires and I his before we mentioned them to one another and acted accordingly. On June 6, 1914, we boarded the train to go to Salt Lake City, Utah to be married in the Salt Lake Temple. We were married June 11, 1914."
Though I've read this passage before, I had not paid much attention to the incident about the "misunderstanding" and that they had "quit keeping company." What would have happened if my grandmother and grandfather had not "put their pride in their pocket" and made up? The loss of eternal companions. The loss of the six children they would have gone on to have. The loss of the children of those children and their children and their children ... The losses quickly mount up.
So, for today, I am grateful for those who "put their pride in their pocket."