Gospel Story Finder

A few years later, I received a very special phone call at home. It was President Hinckley. He said, “Brother Richards, you are called to the Second Quorum of the Seventy. You are in for a wonderful experience. May the Lord bless you.”
After I hung up the telephone, I realized that President Hinckley had not asked me whether or not I would accept the call to serve. But he had not needed to ask me because I had already decided as a young boy that I would always follow the Lord’s prophet.

I felt the effects of these barriers most when I was a teenager, but through those experiences, I learned so much about what it means to trust Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
In high school, my parents were friends with one of my teachers. This teacher was a practicing Christian in another denomination. At the time, I was the only member of the Church in my class, and many classmates and teachers already had some speculations about the Church of Jesus Christ and its members.
This particular teacher had very strong negative opinions about my faith, which made things complicated because she was a family friend.
For one, I was often sleepy in her class because I got up early to go to early-morning seminary, which made her concerned that I was going to fall behind in my schoolwork. She also put me on the spot and challenged me with a lot of complicated doctrinal questions that I didn’t know how to answer. She even gave me school assignments to read anti-Church literature! She tried her hardest to persuade me to step away from my faith.
This was a challenging time for my faith. Why, when I was trying to stay close to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, was staying faithful causing challenges and hardships in my life? Wasn’t I supposed to be blessed for keeping the commandments and sacrificing sleep to go to seminary?
Instead, my grades were slipping, my faith was dwindling, and my relationships with my teachers, my family, and Heavenly Father were suffering.
For a while, I started to wonder if living the gospel was worth it. I started skipping seminary and soon felt my faith fading. It seemed easier to just give in to what the world around me was pressuring me to do.
I continued to pray to Heavenly Father for guidance and understanding. Despite the deep confusion and frustration that I felt about my situation, something in my heart continued to hold on to faith. I talked to faithful friends and confided in peers from church about what I was experiencing, and I was encouraged to talk to my seminary teacher about my struggles.
She responded with compassion and encouraged me to continue attending seminary with a hopeful heart. She promised me that I would see blessings unfold if I kept holding on to faith and trusting that the Lord had much in store for me and would consecrate my challenges (see 2 Nephi 2:1–2).
So, despite the challenges I was facing, I chose to trust.
After a while, I felt my attitude shift. Instead of focusing on the hardships I was facing, I focused on the gratitude I felt for the gospel. I started to focus on the blessing of my family, my divine identity, and the eternal truths of the gospel. And eventually, I came to the knowledge that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are aware of my circumstances and were always standing with me in those moments when I felt like I was standing very much alone.
This changed everything.
As I continued putting my trust in Them, keeping the commandments, repenting daily, and doing the little things each day to connect with Them, I felt my foundation of faith deepening and strengthening.
And as I did, a miracle did happen.
After avoiding any conversations about faith with my teacher for a while, one day when she approached me with questions, I felt ready to answer them with my renewed faith. I kindly asked her if she had ever visited one of our church meetings or read any of the Book of Mormon. When she said no, I felt inspired to bear my testimony of simple truths.
I told her that you can never know if something is true without experiencing it or searching for answers yourself. I explained that I knew the gospel was true because I had worked for those answers and felt in my heart that they were true. I invited her to do the same, and from then on, our relationship was much more peaceful.

Shortly after the pioneers entered the Salt Lake Valley, a young man named David Cannon brought his wife, Wilhelmina, to southern Utah to help start a settlement. Wilhelmina, or “Willie” as she was called, was not at all happy. She hated the hot, dry desert, and cried constantly. She pleaded with her husband to take her back east, where plants and trees grew more easily and the weather was more moderate.
“Everything is so ugly here,” she complained. “If you can show me just one beautiful thing in this place, I will make myself content and stop complaining.”
David went up into the mountains and returned with a beautiful three-petaled blossom with delicate colors. Willie honestly admitted to both David and herself that it was indeed a thing of beauty. She never again complained but went to work with her husband to make a productive farm and lovely home in the St. George area, where they lived for many years.
Amazingly, the same kind of plant that inspired one discouraged pioneer with its blossom, saved the lives of countless others with its nutritious roots. It was the sego lily.

While sitting in my police car watching for speeders one afternoon in June 1996, I heard on my radio a report of an argument between a convenience store clerk and some customers. Two junior officers were being sent to the store. I wasn’t seeing many speeders, so I decided to drive to the store to offer help. I felt impressed to drive along a seldom-used road.
Before long I heard on the radio that the first officer to arrive on the scene was Ben. I was concerned because he was a newly hired officer with little experience.
As I continued on the back road, I heard the dispatcher report that the customers at the store were drunk and becoming combative. I was somewhat relieved when I heard that the second officer, Rocky, who was a little more experienced, had arrived at the scene.
Then came a report that the customers, four of them, had just left in a blue compact car. Still driving toward the scene, I heard another police jurisdiction broadcast a description of the car and its occupants and request officers to look for it. Rocky’s voice came on the radio, giving the direction the car was last seen traveling.
Moments later, I saw the car speeding toward me. My heart sank when I heard someone advise that an officer had been assaulted. I guessed that Ben, the rookie officer who was first on the scene, had been attacked.
I quickly turned around and began to follow the car, which then pulled over and stopped as if waiting for me to pass. Believing that the people in the car had just assaulted a police officer, I followed different tactics than I might have otherwise, and all my senses were on alert. I turned on my emergency lights and stopped my car some distance behind the vehicle. After informing the dispatcher that I had the car stopped, I drew my gun and waited for backup. About a minute later Rocky arrived to assist me.
We began to call each person out of the car at gunpoint, one at a time. Rocky interviewed each person. In the meantime our sergeant arrived with an off-duty officer who, it turned out, had been assaulted only verbally by two of the men in the blue car. Ben was uninjured and was still at the store interviewing witnesses.
The four men were arrested. Inside their car was a semiautomatic assault rifle and several boxes of ammunition. Later we discovered that the rifle had been modified to function like a machine gun. We also learned that one of the men arrested was a gang member with a long history of violence, especially against the police.
After our police reports were finished, we conducted a debriefing, during which I recounted the events as I remembered them. I told the others I had heard that the people in the blue car had assaulted a police officer. The room grew quiet for a moment, and then the sergeant said that no one on any of the radio frequencies had said anything about a police officer being assaulted. I looked around the room, and all agreed that no one had said anything about an officer being assaulted. I told them I had definitely heard someone report it.
Ultimately I concluded that the Holy Ghost had spoken to me in such a way that I would listen at a critical time. Had I not heard that an officer had been assaulted, I might have been less cautious—and I might even have lost my life.
I am deeply grateful for the voice of inspiration that put me on alert that day.

Another couple recently served in a small village south of Santiago, Chile. They had no Spanish skills and were apprehensive about being in a different country so far from the comforts of home. But they plunged in with total dedication, loving and serving the people. Before long, the small branch grew from 12 to 75 members. When it came time for them to leave, the entire branch rented a bus so they could go to the airport, four hours away, and say good-bye to their special friends.

Ring! Ring! sang my cell phone.
“Yeah?” I answered.
“You want to hit the library?” my friend Andrea asked.
I glanced up at the clock and then at the pile of homework on my desk. With finals lurking around the corner, I desperately needed a chance to study, and I couldn’t focus in my college apartment.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I said, gathering my books. I bundled myself in several layers before braving the frigid air and wading through four inches of fresh snow to Andrea’s car.
We set off for the library, grumbling about our mountains of homework. Just thinking about the next week made me nervous.
As we passed an intersection, I noticed an elderly woman shoveling snow from her sidewalks.
“Look at that!” I exclaimed. “Why is that little old lady shoveling snow all by herself?”
“We should turn around and help her,” Andrea suggested. Moments later, we pulled into her driveway.
“Can we help you with that?” Andrea asked, reaching for the shovel.
“Oh, no, I’m all right, but thank you,” she said in surprise.
“No, really,” I insisted. “At least let us finish for you. You must be freezing.”
She hesitated, but then gratefully consented to let us salt down the sidewalks.
We collected the salt and chatted with her as we sprinkled the sidewalks. The salt melted away the ice almost as quickly as our disgruntled moods.
After we finished, we went inside to meet her husband, who was unable to shovel the snow because he was recovering from surgery. We enjoyed some eggnog, admired family photos, and told her about our families. Then out of the blue she stopped and smiled at us.
“I’m so glad you stopped by,” she confided. “It’s just so good to visit.”
We stayed with her for about an hour, then hugged her good-bye and continued our trek to the library.
“I don’t think she really needed someone to salt her sidewalks,” Andrea said as we drove away.
“No,” I said. “She needed a friend.”
As I glanced at my pile of books, I realized I had needed her, too. The stress I’d felt just an hour before was nearly gone, replaced by blissful relief. I had been so focused on my tests that I couldn’t see how others struggled with bigger problems like loneliness, growing older, and even shoveling snow. I will always be grateful for that reminder to watch for opportunities to serve.

By Kyle S., Texas, USA
My parents and I listened to Elder Bednar in the October 2011 general conference when he said that working on family history would give us protection against the adversary. We started working on our family history then. I keep learning and growing from family history; it’s really fun.
I like finding out about where I’m from and about my ancestors. I learn from their experiences and use them in my life to help me be a better person. It’s amazing to discover who they were, what they did for a living, what life was like, and how hard it was for them.
For example, I enjoyed learning about one of my ancestors who moved with his family from Tennessee to Texas, USA, in the 1870s to be a cattle rancher. He faced many challenges in his life, and from him I learned that life can be hard, so it’s important to stand up for what you believe.
When I have challenges in my life, working on family history makes me feel like my ancestors are always with me and will help me through hard trials, just as Elder Bednar promised us.

A young boy and his parents are on the Brooklyn with other Latter-day Saints going to California in 1846. A storm came up so terrible that the captain of the ship told them to prepare to die. But they had faith that they would be all right, and the storm finally ended.
Once the hatches were unbattened, the children rushed up on deck like buckshot exploding out of a shotgun. There seemed to be magic in the breeze as the ship sailed quickly along. How good it was to see the sun and to breathe fresh air again! We forgot all about the bumps and bruises from being banged about like marbles in a leather pouch.

The girls in the ward agree that just because a conversion process doesn’t happen immediately, you shouldn’t give up. Crystal Wangler, 14, went to church with friends for the first time when she was five, but her parents wouldn’t let her be baptized until she was 14. “It was hard to wait,” she said. “The rest of the family weren’t attending any church, and Mom and Dad love to go away on weekends, so I had a hard time getting to activities and church meetings. But my friend Denise’s family always gave me a ride when I needed one. They’ve been a good influence on me. They call me all the time and invite me. I wouldn’t be able to come to most of the activities without them.”

Denise Freiley is Karen’s little sister, and their family is particularly missionary minded. Their home is open for anyone to take missionary discussions, and the missionaries know they can count on the Freileys to fellowship their investigators.

Member Missionary Hunk was assigned to coordinate the open house for the public at the newly completed temple. He planned on being stationed in the celestial room, where he would quietly nod acknowledgments to community dignitaries. Afterwards there would be cookies and punch with guest speakers at the stake center to honor him. Honors to the Hunk.
“Dexter, you’ll be serving here. You’ll help put booties on the shoes of the visitors before they enter the temple for the tour,” the tour leader said.
Filled with disappointment, Dexter sat on the ground and assisted visitors with shoe coverings. No honor in this he thought. In fact it was uncomfortable and embarrassing. But there was something familiar about it. What was it?
He looked up at the temple spires and remembered the words carved on the side: “Holiness to the Lord.”
Holiness to the Lord. Again there was that nagging feeling of familiarity.
Suddenly, a scene came to his mind of a painting that hung at home. He who was greatest was washing the feet of the disciples.
Across the walkway of the temple two visitors were conversing.
“Say, who’s that kid with the glasses, the one who is putting on foot coverings. Is he someone special?”
“No, that’s just Dexter. He’s a nice, average kid.”
“But look at the way he’s treating visitors. It’s as though each person he helps is the most important person he’ll meet.”

You may never have heard the name Arthur Henry Rostron, but on a dark night in icy waters he looked beyond his comfort zone where others had already refused to go and saved hundreds of lives that were without hope. On the night the Titanic hit the iceberg, there were three ships in the area that learned about the disaster. The two closest ships did not respond, but Captain Rostron, whose ship was 58 nautical miles (107 km) away and traveling in the opposite direction, responded to the pleas for help over the radio.

He knew the danger of the icy waters and did not hesitate, but exercised faith and prayed to God for direction. He issued this order to the crew: “Turn the ship around.” It would take them about 3.5 hours to reach the Titanic. During that time, Captain Rostron commanded his ship to proceed at full speed while he posted extra lookouts to maneuver through the ice. En route he had the crew prepare the ship with food, blankets, and medical supplies that would be needed at arrival. Those on board his passenger liner observed the captain often raising his hand to his cap and closing his eyes in prayer. His risky decision to go to the rescue ultimately saved more than 700 lives. Of this experience, Captain Rostron said, “I can only conclude another hand than mine was on the helm.”

I knew that coming back to the realities of life after a mission might be hard, so I wanted to do everything I could to stay on the covenant path.
So when my stake announced that the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple was looking for more ordinance workers, I volunteered. I had been praying for some direction in my life, and I also believed President Russell M. Nelson’s promise that “the Lord will bring the miracles He knows you need as you make sacrifices to serve and worship in His temples.”
I couldn’t think of a better way to keep an ongoing appointment with the temple than to be an ordinance worker!
My life was so busy when I started working in the temple. I had university classes, and my temple shift was quite a few hours each week. It was a sacrifice—but a wonderful one.
Over time, I noticed that when I paid attention to the words of the covenants that the temple patrons were making, my own covenants started becoming more meaningful to me.
For one, I have always believed the truth that families can be eternal through the temple sealing. And helping patrons do work for their ancestors and seeing their deep love for their families inspired me to do my own family history work. I was able to do ordinances for my aunt and my grandmother who had passed away, and this made the blessings of those covenants become so precious to me.
Another time, while I was helping in the baptistry, I was observing all the beautiful faces of the patrons. While I helped them, I felt the Spirit as I thought about the Savior’s baptism. Seeing my brothers and sisters in the temple deepened my testimony of the privilege of making covenants with God.
I have served as an ordinance worker for five years now, and I have had so many simple but profound spiritual experiences like these. They remind me of how powerful our covenants with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are!
When I think about the blessings of covenants, I think of the people of Alma in Mosiah 24.
Despite facing so much hardship, Alma’s people remained faithful to Heavenly Father. They “pour[ed] out their hearts to him; and he did know the thoughts of their hearts” (verse 12). And in response, the Lord reminded them to “lift up your heads and be of good comfort, for I know of the covenant which ye have made unto me; and I will covenant with my people and deliver them out of bondage” (verse 13).
He also promised that He would strengthen them and make their burdens light (see verses 14–15).
And as the people of Alma kept their covenants, their faithfulness and trust in Heavenly Father’s timing freed them from bondage, and they “pour[ed] out their thanks to God” (verse 21).
I feel like this is what we can experience every day as God’s covenant people. The temple reminds me that when I find myself in “bondage,” either from challenges in or outside of my control, my covenants bind me to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
Because of this covenant relationship, I have access to Their healing and enabling power.
I’ve always been grateful for my temple covenants. But being an ordinance worker has helped me see them as the life-changing gifts they are.
President Nelson also reminded us that “the reward for keeping covenants with God is heavenly power—power that strengthens us to withstand our trials, temptations, and heartaches better. This power eases our way. Those who live the higher laws of Jesus Christ have access to His higher power. Thus, covenant keepers are entitled to a special kind of rest that comes to them through their covenantal relationship with God.”
You don’t have to be an ordinance worker to see the power of your covenants in your life. If you simply visit the temple as often as your circumstances allow you to, with a desire to learn more, I know you will see the blessings President Nelson promises.
Regardless of how close you are to a temple, pondering the deep, beautiful blessings of covenants and how they connect you to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ can help you stay joyful and faithful on the covenant path.
This has been true for me.

Later in my youth, my brother and I slept in an unheated bedroom in the winter. People thought that was good for you. Before falling into a warm bed, we knelt to say our prayers. There were expressions of simple gratitude. They concluded in the name of Jesus. The distinctive title of Christ was not used very much when we prayed in those days.

I recall jumping into my bed after I had said amen, pulling the covers up around my neck, and thinking of what I had just done in speaking to my Father in Heaven in the name of His Son. I did not have great knowledge of the gospel. But there was some kind of lingering peace and security in communing with the heavens in and through the Lord Jesus.

There weren’t many Latter-day Saints in the small town of Princeton, New Jersey, where I spent my childhood. Mine was the only Latter-day Saint family in the town when I was growing up. As a result, my friends didn’t know much about the Church. Most of my classmates were Christians, however, and each morning our teacher would have us take turns reading out loud from the Bible—something that isn’t done in public schools in the United States today.
When my turn came, I always chose to read the 13th chapter of 1 Corinthians [1 Cor. 13], which is about charity, the pure love of Christ. I had had a special experience as a little boy that impressed me that the scripture was true and was for me. Every time I read it, I had a strong feeling about my future, including my future family. It was a feeling of kindness and love for them. That seemed like a strange thing for a little boy to feel, so I didn’t tell anyone about it. I didn’t tell my brothers; they probably would have laughed at me. I didn’t tell my parents, either.
When I was 11, I received a special blessing from my uncle, a patriarch, whom I had never met. In the blessing, I was promised the very things I’d hoped for but had kept hidden in my heart—that I would have the home and family I had always dreamed about. The promises in that blessing have since been fulfilled. I have an absolute testimony of priesthood blessings, and I know that those who are worthy to give blessings are inspired by God.

This is it—the big one! Six young men and three adults have just registered with the National Park Service for a summit attempt on Mt. Rainier, the mountain monarch of the Northwest. White and majestic, it rises 8,000 feet above the surrounding ridges of lesser mountains, its summit flanked by 26 named glaciers. It is a paradise for the students of nature. At different elevations can be found both beautiful seasonal flowers and unreal ice sculptures common to the Arctic.
The teachers, priests, and adult leaders of the Seattle Washington North Stake’s Tenth Ward have been preparing for this attempt for a long time. We have had weeks of expert instruction in mountaineering. We’ve learned about (and worked for) proper physical and mental conditioning. We have studied proper body chemical balance. We have studied potential hazards, such as avalanches, dehydration, hypothermia, and crevasses (fissures in a glacier). We have learned about proper clothing and equipment and quick energy foods. We have gone to nearby mountains and practiced such things as foul-weather camping, stopping a fall with an ice axe, and rescuing a fallen climber from a crevasse, as well as many other aspects of first aid and mountaineering safety. We capped it all off with a climb to the summit of picturesque, 9,677-foot Mt. St. Helens. We have done everything we can to prepare. Now comes the test.
The weather forecast indicates a high pressure ridge aloft, deteriorating with low clouds forming to the south and cooling temperatures for tomorrow with possible rain. Not good, but not especially discouraging.
We set out, each carrying his share of the gear, plus his ten essentials (extra clothing, extra food, sunburn protection, sun goggles, first aid kit, flashlight, extra batteries, compass, map, matches, fire starter, and knife).
It is just over three miles and about a 1,400-foot elevation gain up a beautiful forest trail to Glacier Basin. There are bare places to set up camp amid snow drifts and avalanche lillies. We prepare supper during intermittent rain at about 5,700 feet.
Each night we will have an evening devotional before we retire. Our theme this evening is “Know Thyself.” We discuss what we have learned and experienced the last several months in preparation for this endeavor.
Next morning, after a good breakfast, we start our ascent of Inter Glacier, a climb of about 4,000 feet in two miles. A full pack, including climbing ropes and other climbing and emergency equipment, makes this a real physical challenge.
Near the top of Inter Glacier, which forms the “foredeck” of Steamboat Prow, we are rewarded by a spectacular view of the upper mountain. The initial summit route among numerous crevasses is obvious. The upper route appears more problematic. There is an ominous summit cloud cap on the mountain. We descend the ridge and arrive at Camp Schurman at the foot of the Prow about 4:00 P.M.
We will have supper by 5:00 P.M., be in bed at 6:00, and up at 12:00 midnight. Since climbing at higher elevations must be done when the surface is stabilized by freezing temperatures to avoid weak snow bridges over crevasses, shifting seracs, and other potential hazards, it is standard climbing practice to start a summit ascent at midnight or soon after at this time of year.
After a quick breakfast we will try to be climbing by 1:00 A.M. Will the weather hold? Will the summit be clear? Will there be route problems? winds? illness? Is our physical and mental conditioning adequate? This is where the training all comes together! Everyone works together now. We’re a team. Everyone is busy preparing food or melting snow, lots of it. We need two quarts of water each to take up the mountain, plus up to two quarts each for supper and breakfast. We have to avoid dehydration. The air is already thin. What will it be like at 12,000 feet? 14,000 feet? The mountain looks inviting. The summit looks ominous. Anxiety is high.
A team of four climbers is coming down. It will be good to get their report. We must eat whether we feel like it or not—high energy food, lots of carbohydrates.
It’s 5:00 P.M., time to get packs with the ten essentials ready for the summit so we can survive the night up there if necessary. We must also get the ropes ready, knots tied, prusiks in place. Everything will be easier now than later when it will be dark and the temperatures freezing.
The descending four arrive. They appear to be in their mid-20s and strong. They look tired. The effect of their experience is etched in their faces. Their report: a good climb. Frozen snow turned to ice at about 12,000 feet requiring crampons. They took 2 quarts of water each, but could have had a gallon (they felt dehydrated). The summit? There was a whiteout, and they had to use wands to find their route back down. The wind was moderate (20 to 30 miles per hour). They didn’t check the temperature. The chill factor was probably zero or below. They will complete their descent this afternoon. Our anxiety is now higher. Whiteouts can be bad news, more of a challenge than we’d really like to have.
We’ll stay in the hut instead of pitching tents. It will be nice to get out of the rising wind.
At 6:00 P.M. we are ready for bed. The theme of our second devotional is “Control Thyself.” We have a good discussion. It helps reduce the tension of anticipation. Sleep is fitful. Some can’t sleep at all, but even a little rest is welcome.
The alarm finally goes off at midnight. No one speaks. Groan, groan. Is this for real? Okay! Now or never! Everybody’s up and dressing for the climb. Don’t dress too warmly. The climbing will be hard; the body will generate a lot of heat. An insulated undershirt, wool shirt or light wool sweater, and wind breaker is enough. After a quick, cold, high energy breakfast, we’re ready to go.
The sky is full of stars. There is very little wind, but it is cold.
The group climb leader takes the lead. Crunch, crunch—the snow is frozen, but not very hard. There is nothing below us but blackness. There must be a heavy cloud layer down there to completely obscure everything. In three hours it will be twilight—in four to five hours, sunrise. The thought of light and warmth is comforting. Six or seven hours should be the turning point. In eight or nine we will be at the summit!
Two hours later the climbing has become labored. The heavy exercise has overcome the cold. Rests are only momentary relief. At 11,500 feet the team reverses position and Scott Capener takes the lead.
(He later said: “Being third man on the rope team, I felt secure. All there was to do was follow, but when we reversed positions, it seemed like the whole world reversed. It was pitch black in front of me, broken only by my headlamp, which wasn’t much benefit. Before, I was reassured by two lights ahead of me. Now I was alone, navigating between crevasses. I didn’t want to begin to think of how deep they were. I was trying to pick a route up a mountain I’d never been on before. The closest person to me was 50 feet behind me, out of hearing or talking range. There were people behind me, but I was alone.”)
We are no longer able to “kick steps” so we put crampons on to enable secure footing. The moon rises, a meager orange-red slit where you imagine the horizon should be.
At 12,500 feet the lead team again reverses position. We’ve now crossed several crevasses, but you never feel comfortable about them. Climbing has now become an ordeal—a real test, hour after hour.
Several of the team are now suffering one or more symptoms of acute mountain sickness (headache, nausea, vomiting), but there are no complaints. It is now twilight, and delayed sunrise is both welcome (it will soon turn to blinding, burning light reflected by the ice in every direction) and disappointing (it’s very cold when you stop to rest). There is no in-between up here. While you hike you sweat; when you stop you shiver.
The terrain is now steep, about 60 degrees in places. Two have tender Achilles tendons. The strongest of the group are calling for rest, which is welcome to all. Soon we are climbing again. You sink in your ax spike, take two steps, and repeat, breathing hard and deep several times in between. Over and over, on and on! Seems like it will never end. You feel lightheaded because you are breathing so hard that you are almost hyperventilating in spite of the thin air at 13,000 feet. But you can’t faint; you can’t fall; don’t even close your eyes or you might doze and slip. On this hard ice and steep angle, it would be almost impossible to stop once you started sliding. You recall accident reports in which fatalities occurred under similar conditions. Stomp those feet down hard!
The wind has started to blow down the mountain. It is bitter cold. There are clouds over the upper mountain. We start wanding to mark our route. We’ve now crossed many crevasses. Some we cross on snowbridges; some we climb around until we can step across.
At 13,500 feet we are climbing into the cloud cap. The wind is about 20 miles per hour. Maybe it will blow the cloud cap away. At 14,000 feet there is intermittent snow falling, with higher gusts of wind. At times visibility is ten to fifteen feet. Sometimes the ridge is visible for a few seconds. At 14,200 feet we are now higher than Liberty Cap or Point Success, two of the mountain’s three summits. Hoar frost forms on eyebrows and clothing. Although spirits are high, the condition of the group is not good. They are approaching fatigue. The advisability of continuing seems questionable.
Belden Durtschi, the climb leader’s second in command, has been here before. He is called up for consultation. Other members of the team are consulted. Not a negative word is heard. Belden takes the lead with his rope team. Soon exposed rock of the crater rim is showing. The terrain is not as steep.
At 9:30 A.M. the altimeter indicates we are at Columbia Crest at last! We scramble to the left side of the crater wall and collapse. Three fall asleep still in their packs. The rest take some food and drink and rest. The rocks feel like pillows.
After about 20 minutes it doesn’t look like the weather will clear, so we start our descent. We are soon out of the cloud.
The descent is fast, and we arrive back at Camp Schurman at about 1:30 P.M. for a well-earned rest.
In blinding sunshine, with a heavy cloud layer several thousand feet below, we spend an enjoyable afternoon exchanging thoughts of our experience. Since some retire early, the third element of our devotionals is held the next morning—the theme, “Give Thyself.” Our devotional themes “Know Thyself” (Socrates, 450 B.C.), “Control Thyself” (Cicero, 100 B.C.), and “Give Thyself” (Jesus Christ) are a formula for success suggested by Elder Paul H. Dunn in his book Discovering the Quality of Success. If we follow these concepts, we will truly succeed!
After breakfast we rope up again to descend the Emmons Glacier to where we can traverse the ridge to Inter Glacier. The lower half of Inter Glacier is free of crevasses and presents a beautiful glisade where we lose nearly 2,000 feet in a little over a mile. It is a fast trip and quite a thrill!
As we descend, the summit, shining brilliantly in the sun, is sometimes visible through the clouds. It’s hard to believe we were really there.
But we were, and it has made a difference.
In retrospect one of the fellows commented, “I learned a lot about self-discipline. It stimulates your thinking with challenging decisions.” Another said, “it was a spiritual, beautiful experience.” We discovered a lot about the qualities of success.
Into a cloud sea far below,
I lonely watched the red sun go,
Then turning, miracle of glad surprise,
Enchanted saw the full moon rise.
—C. Schurman—

My eldest son was always a healthy, obedient, and focused child in the ways of the Lord. When the time came to serve a mission, he was prepared. I remember him saying that he had always planned to be a missionary and we, as his parents, were happy and grateful. He was always a loving child and had a wonderful sense of humor that charmed everyone who knew him.
A year and a half after serving an honorable mission, he was attending college with defined goals for his life, preparing for a profession, meeting an eternal companion, and starting a family. I was the happiest and most peaceful mother to have such a focused, loved, and cherished son.
On May 2, 2022, while I was working from home, I received news that would forever change my life and that of my family. My eldest son had drowned at a beach. It couldn’t be true! Did I hear wrong? Was it a joke? No, it was real. For a moment, I felt like I was falling into an endless abyss. Then the thought came to me that my son was already on the other side of the veil.
I went to my room and knelt and prayed to Heavenly Father like never before. I didn’t ask why. I didn’t complain. I simply asked for strength. I did it with so much faith and certainty that from that moment, everything passed in slow motion.
I cried for my beloved son, but at the same time, I felt that everything would be okay. I felt calm. I thought of the temple, the covenants I made there with my husband, and the promises given to my family.
From that moment, I had the strength to comfort my younger son, be a loving companion to my devastated husband, and I fully, and without any doubt, believe that families can be eternal. I understood that my son had moved to the other side of the veil, but he continued to be and still is my beloved son. I felt and recognized that his time on earth had ended, but that one day I could embrace him again and we would be together forever.

My father was the son of Lithuanians, but he was born in Scotland. He moved to Brazil when he was still young. His ability to speak English facilitated his conversion, since he could read the Book of Mormon in English and there was not yet a reliable translation into Portuguese. This language barrier prevented my mother from joining the Church until a few years later, but when she did, she became a powerful example of dedication to others and love of God in our family. She is now 92 years old, and she is here today. It gives me great joy to say that I love her for her great faithfulness. I will also honor and bless her name forever.

I’m McAllister W. I’m 14 years old and I’m from New York City, USA. It’s a busy place with skyscrapers and people, and I love living here. I take the subway to Scouts, and I learned to hail a taxi cab before I learned how to ride a bike! One passion that I have is longboarding along the Hudson River—with a view of the Statue of Liberty!Something that I love about the gospel is that a lot of it is focused on serving others. I recently helped a sister in our ward move, and that experience helped me recognize that serving people like Jesus Christ would help others’ faith grow, and that in turn helps my faith to grow.
McAllister W., 14, New York, USA

One sentence in my patriarchal blessing thrilled me: “You will be called to preach the gospel in the world.” I had a lifelong desire to serve a mission, and so when I heard that sentence, I felt that I would have that opportunity.

When it was time for me to serve a mission, the United States was involved in a war and only a few young men were actually allowed to serve missions. The rest were expected to serve their country in the war if they were drafted.

At that time, all prospective missionaries were interviewed by General Authorities as well as by their local Church leaders. I went through the interview process and, because of that sentence in my patriarchal blessing, thought that I would be called on a mission. I was terribly disappointed when I was notified that I was required to serve my country, instead.

I often thought about that sentence in my patriarchal blessing. When and how will I be called to preach the gospel? I asked myself. Today, of course, as a General Authority, I am preaching the gospel all over the world. I can see now how that promise is being fulfilled. But when I was younger, I often wondered.

A young mother told me she would never forget the day her husband came home distraught over leaving his wallet in a telephone booth. Her first reaction was to criticize his irresponsibility at losing the family’s rent money. But as she glanced at his sad, pained face, she kept silent. The rent could be paid a few weeks late. The young mother said the look on her husband’s face—a look that clearly showed his relief at not being criticized—was well worth her silence. After all, she reasoned, what good would have been accomplished had she heaped criticism on her already upset husband?