Becky Reeves Walks Again

Let me tell you a story. On November sixteen, nineteen sixty-two, Becky Reeves—whom some of you know, some of you may remember Becky from Eternal Values Night a couple of years ago here—Becky Reeves, a missionary in the Western States Mission, then was transferred to Portales, New Mexico, where she was on a Saturday afternoon washing her Rambler in order that she and her roommate could drive to Roswell, about a hundred miles, to have a zone conference with the mission president. They were to be in charge of the music. And they got up early that morning and prayed. I stressed that they prayed. Set out in their little rambler on a little bit of frosty pavement. It certainly wasn’t a snowstorm; it was barely enough to chill the air, but a little bit of frost had formed on the blacktop.

And in a most unusual and irregular and almost freakish accident, Becky and her roommate at thirty-five miles an hour slid off the road, hit a soft shoulder, rolled the car two and a half times, throwing Becky free, landing on her neck and severed her spinal column, or at least that is what they thought and what she thought she knew. She couldn’t move and she knew she could scarcely breathe. She is an ordained missionary, ordained in the sense of at least being set apart. Ordained not in the sense of priesthood conferral, but set apart and commissioned to be an emissary of God, praying faithfully. And she now lies eight hundred miles from home, out on some desert stretch of road, and cries out in her unique combination of, I guess, fear, which would be understandable, but immense faith, said simply out loud, “Father, I am in trouble. Please help me”.

And I quote from Becky, who says: “No sooner had I said this than a voice came into my mind which said, Becky, your neck is broken and you must not move”. The doctors then told my parents—I’m jumping—the doctors then told my parents she is now in a hospital and her parents have been contacted that there was no hope for me. I would be nothing more than a vegetable. I would never sit up again. I would never be able to move or to walk. They encouraged dad to put me in an institution where I could be taken care of, but somehow this did not seem right to them or to me.

Why would the Lord let that happen? I don’t know whether you know this girl or not, but if there is one young woman, I suppose, besides my wife and sister Hafen, if there is one young woman who this very hour has her name on a celestial throne, it’s Becky Reeves. She went on a mission. She said her prayers. She was as faithful as she could be. If God knows enough to whisper in her ear, “Don’t move,” didn’t he know enough to keep the car from rolling over, for Pete’s sake? I mean, didn’t he know she was out on the road and there was a little bit of black ice? And who’d think you could roll a car two and a half times at thirty-five miles an hour? Doesn’t he know that? How could that happen to a serving, faithful, set apart missionary who loves the Lord and says her prayers the morning before they get in the car? How could this heavenly being who’s right there to whisper “Don’t move” let it happen?

Well, while I don’t know the details of that particular experience, I do know some details. 

On Sunday, January twenty-seventh, nineteen sixty-three, this is now sixty days later, the members of the Valley View stake fasted for me. And they went to their various ward buildings and had a prayer in my behalf. And Western States missionaries and friends and family fasted for me. And an honorable priesthood bearer laid his hands on my head and said: “The day will come when you will stand on your feet, and you will bear witness of the goodness of God in your life”.

The goodness of God in your life? She’s a quadriplegic. She cannot move anything of any of you. Did any of you see the other side of the mountain? The hospital bed that has to turn, that’s what she is. She has no movement anywhere of any kind except, I suppose, in her voice and anything above the neck. And an honorable priesthood bearer says you will bear witness of the goodness of God in your life.

Will we build the temple, Brother Brigham? Are we ever going to have a temple around here we can enjoy? How much sacrifice is too much sacrifice, Brother Brigham? How much does God care about endowments and marriages and baptisms? If he were a little more interested, maybe he could do a little bit more about it. How interested is he in missionary work? Can he afford to roll the sweet sisters who could be doing something else, teaching school, or being married or on a college campus, can he afford to roll them out of cars and break their necks? How much is too much and what future is there?

“In those long hours, I lay on the frame, I thought, I guess I’m not going to be the greatest mother in the world and have a big, wonderful family, as I’ve always dreamed. And I guess I’ll not be the greatest sister missionary in the world and help teach many people and bring the gospel into their lives. What can I be? What can I be? I do not want to be average. I want to have goals to work for. I want to be something. And then I decided: I can be a cripple. I do not know how, but I will learn how to be a cripple. And I will be the greatest cripple who has ever lived”.
“I had traditional therapy three times a week for 23 years until my health began to fail,” she says. “Butn I hadn’t learned how to walk. I was throwing my feet out in front of me, but my arms were doing all the work. And then the Lord opened a new door for me. I joined the Sit Tall Stand Tall Program, working with strength trainer Leighton Weber in Provo.”

“I had to train my muscles again,” Reeve says. But then she adds, with great satisfaction, “At Leighton’s we did stuff we never did in traditional therapy. I experienced a great improvement in my health and strength. After working 30 years in the program, I could stand in leg braces and take steps with limited help. I remained so healthy I am up 13 hours a day.”

-Jeffrey R. Holland, “Will We Finish the Temple, Brother Brigham?” Ricks College Devotional, 1981 and BYU Magazine, "Standing Tall," Fall 2016