When my wife and I were first married, we lived in a basement apartment in Provo. I was still going to school and working part-time. My wife dropped out of school for a while to help support us as I finished school. There was very little money to cover all the expenses.

My parents lived about a half-hour away from us, and we used to drop by once in awhile to visit and to get something to eat. During one of those early visits, my dad took me aside and said, "I went shopping the other day and accidentally bought an extra case of soup. Our food storage area is pretty filled up, and we have no place to put this case of soup. We really can't use it, and I don't know what to do with it. Could you take it?"

"Sure," I replied. "I'm happy to be able to help."

We took the soup, and I was pleased twofold. We got some food we could use, and I was able to help out my dad. A few weeks later on another visit, my dad had made another shopping error, and we went home with a number of items that wouldn't fit in his freezer. This went on from time to time, until I was beginning to worry about my dad. Perhaps my mom should do all the shopping. Dad didn't seem to be able to handle it very well.

Around Easter we traveled to my parents' home for a family get-together. When we were getting ready to go back to the apartment, my dad took me aside and said, "I came home from the supermarket the other day with an extra ham. We've already got the one, so we don't need it. Could you and Lani use a ham?"

Well, I'm no dummy. You can only fool me for five to seven months. Extra case lot items were one thing, but who would accidentally buy one too many hams? "Sure, we'd love to take the ham," I said, and then with a look that would let him know that I knew what he was up to, I added, "Now, how much do I owe you?"

"You don't understand. I'm giving it to you."

"I understand completely, " I said, taking out my wallet. "Let me pay you back."

He paused for a couple of seconds, looked at me and said, "You can't possibly pay me back."

I was just thinking that must be some expensive ham when my dad clarified, "It's not just the ham or the soup or the other things we've given you. It's all the things over the years that your mom and I have done for you. It's the sacrifice and time and energy and money and worries that we have invested in you. You will never be able to pay us back for all we've done for you."

My father is not the kind of guy that fishes for compliments or appreciation, and I was pretty sure he wasn't asking me to pay him back on some kind of monthly installment plan. Because he doesn't normally talk this way, I knew he was serious and was trying to make a point. But if there was no way I could ever pay Mom and him back, what could I do?

It was like he read my mind. "The only thing you can do to pay me back," he said, "is to someday do things to help your own kids. I'm not only doing things for you and your sisters because I love you, but through you I'm also paying back your grandpa and grandma for everything they did for me. That's the way it works."

Since having my own children, I have realized that my dad was right. That is the way it works.

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Resource: "Good Deeds," courtesy of Deseret Book