Stanley Dwight Breed

Gloria Evon Naslund & Stanley Dwight Breed

August 7, 1946

Wedding day

I thought I'd take a few minutes today to talk about my dad, for whomever is interested. He was born to Stanley David Breed and Della Frances McAfee on July 7, 1927 (7/7/27 - which is one of the reasons #7 is my lucky number... just realize that's my personality! ;)). He was the 5th of 10 children.

I'm not really sure why I feel like I should share some stories about my dad today. Perhaps it's because the 25th anniversary of his death (6/16/92) is coming up soon. Pat and I plan to take that day and go up to Paradise to pay our respects. We also plan to spend the night up there, visit with some friends and family. At any rate, my parents have both been on my mind lately...and in my heart. Even as I write this I am tearing up, simply because of the love and gratitude I have for them.

In our church, nearly every first Sunday of the month (twice a year it's different due to General Conference, where our Prophet, Apostles, and church leaders speak to us on TV) is called Fast Sunday. On those Sunday's we fast for whatever needs we, or someone we know, have... or to simply express our gratitude for our blessings. We donate the amount of money we would have spent on food for those 2 meals (though many of us give far more than that amount - the money goes to help those in need locally), and we have what is called a testimony meeting during our church service. This is where someone from the audience can go up to the pulpit and express their testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and their love for God, our Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ.

So, testimony meeting was nearly 2 weeks ago, and I got up and shared my feelings. One of the feelings I expressed was my gratitude for my parent's willingness to listen to the missionaries when they came to their door, and turn their lives around - inevitably giving myself, my brother and sister, and our families better lives. The depth of gratitude I feel for their courage to change and make their/our lives better can't even begin to be expressed. This, my faith, is the greatest gift that my parents gave me. I thought I'd share their story... their bravery, with you.

My parents didn't have the greatest marriage. This was largely due to my dad, who was an alcoholic and was addicted to gambling. My mom had heard about the church and met with the missionaries many years before, because of her sister, my Aunt Madge (who never joined the church but introduced her to it). While she knew it was what she wanted/needed in their lives she also felt that it wasn't the right time. So, she waited.

After I was born my mom was really ill. She was unable to hold me, to nurture me. Auntie, my mom's Aunt Lillian, came to help out. We were living in Hawthorne, CA, at the time. One day while Auntie was there my mom and her had a conversation about church. Auntie told my mom that we needed religion... we needed a church. My mom then told her that the only church she'd be interested in was the "Mormon" church... which is actually The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Apparently I began to cry (I was only about 3 months old). My mom went back to take care of me while I lay in my crib. While she was taking care of me the door bell rang. There stood two LDS missionaries. Auntie invited them in. My mom came out and said they'd need to meet with her and my dad, could they return on Saturday when my dad would be home? They agreed, of course, to that!

At some point in time, I believe it was Friday night, my dad came home drunk and he had gambled away his paycheck. She told him the missionaries were coming to talk with them and that he had better be willing to listen. Because he was in the 'doghouse' (his word!) he said he would.

You should probably know that my dad was an agnostic. He didn't believe in the God that he had heard about his whole life... it just didn't make sense to him. So, when the elders came he listened. He opened his heart, he put aside any prejudgments he many have had, he listened and heard what he needed to hear. He knew that this was exactly what they needed in their lives. From then on they were dedicated to learning, and becoming more than what they were before.

This meant, no more alcohol, no more gambling, no more coffee, or cigarettes. This decision meant that they learned more about Jesus Christ and would strive to pattern their lives after Him. This meant that they would serve more, do more, be more, help others more, and certainly that they would love more. This meant that they would truly repent of their sins, not just once but daily. This meant that their faith would become their foundation; that they wouldn't just attend occasionally, but weekly, and they would attend more meetings than that! This decision would be the best, happiest, most fulfilling, decision they would ever make. There was no turning back for them.

My parents and Sue were baptized on December 23, 1955. I was 4 months old. In our church children aren't baptized until they are age 8, so they can be held accountable for their actions. If they die before age 8 they are automatically saved for eternity.

So, this didn't really turn out to be about my dad, it turned out to be about my parents... about the greatest blessing they gave me, and my husband, and our children and grandchildren. Without the gospel of Jesus Christ --- all facets of it --- I wouldn't be me. They have laid this foundation for our family, our posterity, their posterity to stand firmly on. I am simply grateful, and I love them for it.

If anyone would like to know more... I'd be happy to share what I know. All I can say is that living the gospel brings the deepest happiness and joy that one can experience in this life. Love you all!