By guest author, P. D. Wiles.

In his book, Standing for Something: Ten Neglected Virtues That Will Heal Our Hearts and Homes, Gordon B. Hinckley shares this quote from an anonymous author: "It is not impossible that the true revolutionaries of the twenty-first century will be the fathers of decent and civilized children." Since it's almost Father's Day, I'ld like to talk about the special fathers in my life--my father-in-law, my husband, and my own father.

My husband and I have lived in only two different homes in our twenty-three year marriage. Much of the carpentry work in both homes was done by my father-in-law. From major structural changes to handmade kitchen cabinets to outdoor storage buildings, my father-in-law has helped us do it all. And there's at least one piece of furniture in every room constructed by his skilled hands--even the beds my children sleep on were lovingly made by Granddad.

Beside my writing desk, where my husband and kids keep their musical instruments, four lap dulcimers stand waiting to be played. A few years ago, when my kids developed an interest in folk music, we ordered a dulcimer kit and Granddad put it together. He was so amazed that he could build something that actually made music that he built more, experimenting with fine woods and discovering that the different woods helped create each instrument's unique sound.

One time, he helped us with an extensive remodeling project in our basement. I worked beside him for several days, assisting him when I could. I couldn't help but feel great respect as I thought about how much this man had taught himself in seventy years; how he'd had to quit school as a child to support his brothers and sisters, but grew up to raise a family of seven children and retire from a management position in a successful company. Wisdom, in many ways, is more valuable than an education. To me, my self-educated father-in-law will always be the wisest person I've ever known.

When I became old enough to date, my Dad gave me some shrewd counsel: date the kind of person you want to marry. When I met my future husband twenty years ago, I knew he'd be a good father, and I was right. Now that we're in the home stretch of raising our kids, I can see his great influence as a counselor, teacher, and disciplinarian. The kids have teased him about his long lectures, but they also know that he listens to their opinions. In the last few years he's taught two daughters and one son how to drive, who to date, and what to expect as they enter the world of work. And in all matters of family rule enforcement, while Mom tends to be a little more softhearted, all three know that the buck stops with Dad. So when my buttons get pushed too far, it's a relief to know my husband is there to back me up, that we are united in our efforts to help our children learn to make positive choices in their lives.

To end this essay on dads, I'd like to share a memory of my own father, one I'd forgotten about until a couple of years ago. My husband and son were at a father-son campout, and my girls were out with a group of friends. I was home alone, working on a manuscript. I started a little after six, then before I knew it, it was after ten o'clock. As I sat back in my chair, feeling a great sense of accomplishment for the work I'd completed that night, I remembered the times when I was small and I'd seen my Dad sitting at his desk in the laundry room that doubled for his office. He was working on a book--a vague concept to me then, but I wonder how much those memories of Dad hunched over his desk, banging away on his old black Royal typewriter, have influenced me now?