
enjoy!
Reginald Dorff served a mission to Argentina in the early 1950s when baptisms were few.
In 1950, Venado Tuerto, Argentina, there were no latter-day saints, except the missionaries who had established a beautiful nucleus of more than 60 friends and investigators. Sunday worship services were held, with all prayers, music, sermons, presented byt he elder missionaries. During that time, la Senorita Paulina Quiriquino, previously taught by Elder Rodney Bradshaw and his companion, requested baptism on October 19, 1950.
District meetings in Rosario saw Paulina and Elders Robert Reese and Reginald Dorff in that city, December, 23, 1950, where her baptism was approved. Elders Reese and Dorff were detained and unable to reach the river-side baptism on time, and President Lyman Wilson performed his first and only baptism. He traveled much on behalf of mission president Harold Brown. President Lyman was soon to complete his mission, and early in his mission Elder Dorff had baptized another missionary's candidate. This was his only baptism in 35 months, so the Lord has ways to 'balance the books.'
In 1978, the Dorff family drove 40,000 miles from Los Angeles to Buenos Aires and had a wonderful reunion with Hermana Quiriquino. She had just been released from a stake mission in which she brought 150 converts to baptism.
The Woman Warrior
Franny & Zooey
JD Salinger
Length: 202 pages
VERY different from Catcher in the

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the mouldering wall,
But at every gust more dead leaves fall,.
And the day is dark and dreary.
My life is cold and dark and dreary.
It rains and the wind is never weary.
My thoughts still cling to the mouldering past.
And youth's fond hopes fall thick in the blast.
And my life is dark and dreary.
Be still, sad heart and cease repining
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining
Thy fate is the common fate of all
Into each life some rain must fall
Some days must be dark and dreary.
An American volunteer with the Royal Canadian Air Force, 19-year-old John Magee was killed on December 11, 1941.
This poem was much quoted and remembered right after the explosion of the Challenger space shuttle in the 1980s.
Nevertheless they did afast and bpray oft, and did wax stronger and stronger in their chumility, and firmer and firmer in the faith of Christ, unto the filling their souls with joy and consolation, yea, even to the dpurifying and the esanctification of their hearts, which sanctification cometh because of their fyielding their hearts unto God.
Excerpt from Chapter 10 of "A Little Princess" by Frances Hodgson Burnett
One of these nights, when [Sara] came up to the attic cold and hungry, with a tempest raging in her young breast, Emily's stare seemed so vacant, her sawdust legs and arms so inexpressive, that Sara lost all control over herself. There was nobody but Emily-- no one in the world. And there she sat.
"I shall die presently," she said at first.
Emily simply stared.
"I can't bear this," said the poor child, trembling. "I know I shall die. I'm cold; I'm wet; I'm starving to death. I've walked a thousand miles today, and they have done nothing but scold me from morning until night. And because I could not find that last thing the cook sent me for, they would not give me any supper. Some men laughed at me because my old shoes made me slip down in the mud. I'm covered with mud now. And they laughed. Do you hear?"
She looked at the staring glass eyes and complacent face, and suddenly a sort of heartbroken rage seized her. She lifted her little savage hand and knocked Emily off the chair, bursting into a passion of sobbing--Sara who never cried.
"You are nothing but a DOLL!" she cried. "Nothing but a doll-- doll--doll! You care for nothing. You are stuffed with sawdust. You never had a heart. Nothing could ever make you feel. You are a DOLL!"
Emily lay on the floor, with her legs ignominiously doubled up over her head, and a new flat place on the end of her nose; but she was calm, even dignified. Sara hid her face in her arms. The rats in the wall began to fight and bite each other and squeak and scramble. Melchisedec was chastising some of his family.
Sara's sobs gradually quieted themselves. It was so unlike her to break down that she was surprised at herself. After a while she raised her face and looked at Emily, who seemed to be gazing at her round the side of one angle, and, somehow, by this time actually with a kind of glassy-eyed sympathy. Sara bent and picked her up. Remorse overtook her. She even smiled at herself a very little smile.
"You can't help being a doll," she said with a resigned sigh, "any more than Lavinia and Jessie can help not having any sense. We are not all made alike. Perhaps you do your sawdust best." And she kissed her and shook her clothes straight, and put her back upon her chair.
This Talk I love because I have been thinking so much about preaching the gospel - and how much we all need to teach and be taught!