TheDiscipleMD

It happened many years ago, yet it is still fresh in my conscience, and from time to time it appears on the “stage” of my mind. It happened on an otherwise innocuous day during high school. It was the fifth-period English class, and we had a substitute for the day. You know how “well” those classes end up going. No one listens, no one cares. The poor teacher is subject to all kinds of abuse! This class was no exception. The woman substitute teacher was trying her best to maintain order, but as soon as she turned her back to write on the board, a student would throw something at another student, or, even worse, knock over one of the empty desks. It would make a loud crashing noise as it hit the floor. The teacher would quickly turn around, but was never quick enough to catch the perpetrator. Finally, with her voice raised in frustration and anger, she said, “The next person who knocks over a desk is going to be thrown out of class and will report to the principal’s office!

She turned and started writing on the chalkboard. In the row next to me were a couple of students, an empty desk, then another student appeared to be sleeping, then a few more students. I watched as a friend of mine, who was seated behind the sleeping student, stretched his foot out as far as he could, around the sleeper, and pushed the empty desk over. As the desk began to fall, he quickly got back into his seat. The desk crashed to the floor. The sound of the crash awoke the student who was sleeping, so that when the teacher turned around, the once slumbering classmate had his head up. The teacher erupted in anger and started to shout at the innocent kid. The student tried to defend himself and stated his innocence, but the teacher was so frazzled by then that she was in no mood for explanations. She told him to leave the class and report to the principal’s office. He stormed out of the room, pleading his innocence. It seemed that the joke was on the teacher! Still, I sat there…. and so did everyone else. No one came to his defense. Perhaps he had no friends in the class, I don’t know. I just know that after the moment passed, and I did nothing, it became less funny. And so it is, some 40 years later, that I still remember the incident. The memory doesn’t reflect well on my character. I wasn’t “standing tall” that day.

Whenever I hear the words “stand tall,” I think of Gordon B. Hinckley, who said:

“Stand a little taller and work a little harder and value a little greater the marvelous blessing which you have….You and I are sons and daughters of God, with something of divinity within us. Let us stand tall, my brothers and sisters. Let us live the gospel. Let us be busy in the Church. Let us learn of its doctrine. Let us feed upon its teachings. Let us grow in faith and faithfulness before the world. (Gordon B. Hinckley, “Inspirational Thoughts,” Liahona, Apr 2002). To the youth, he once said:

“Stand tall, do what is right, count on the Lord, and He will bless you in a wonderful way.”

What was the cost of a false accusation? I don’t know the answer for the innocent classmate of mine, but I can imagine. I’ve been falsely accused of things in my life. Not only does it sting, but it stays with you for life.  But for me, that event holds for me a memory of a moment in my life when I lacked the courage to stand up for the right. Those kinds of memories are not precious in my mind, and sometimes we are caught off guard and wish we had the quickness of mind to react differently. I just know that I allowed my character to be “substituted”  that day with something called “fear of man!”

I would hope that as adults, we have overcome our fear of others and the ‘peer pressure’ we felt as youth. But alas, the natural man is hard to overcome. It is a constant battle to courageously “stand tall” and live the gospel. But it’s a battle worth waging!