Gospel Story Finder

I was a single parent. I barely had enough money to buy food and pay my bills. Often it was a matter of paying tithing or buying food, paying my utility bills, or making a car payment.
For years, I went through stages of trying to pay tithing. Finally, I said, “If you believe the gospel is true, then you need to step out there. Once you step out there, God can bless you.”
I owed $500 in tithing, but I also needed $503 to pay some bills. I didn’t see how it would work, but I said, “I’m just going to try.” I paid my tithing. Nobody knew I was $503 short, but somebody anonymously sent me five $100 bills in the mail.
That was a turning point for me. It changed me spiritually. I realized that God loves me, that He cares for me, and that He wants me to succeed. From that point forward, I have paid my tithing. But it hasn’t always been easy.

“Mom, can I ride my bike over to Jason’s house?” Zach called as he ran into his bedroom.
“Sure,” Mom said. “Just be careful.”
“OK!” Zach skidded to a stop next to his bed and grabbed his tennis shoes. When he glanced up, he saw the picture of Jesus he kept next to his baseball trophy. His grandparents had given him the picture at his baptism last month. Zach could hardly believe he was finally baptized. He thought back to that important day.
He remembered sitting in the chapel next to his dad. Both of them were dressed in white. His Primary teacher, Sister Jones, gave a talk about the Holy Ghost. She told Zach if he listened to the still, small voice he would be blessed.
Sister Jones held up a whistle. “Sometimes the Holy Ghost will warn you of danger, almost like a whistle in your mind.” Then she held up a helmet. “Following the Holy Ghost is like wearing a helmet in a dangerous world. His still, small voice will prompt you so you will be protected spiritually and physically.”
Zach had thought about the talk a lot since then. He was grateful to have the gift of the Holy Ghost. As he finished tying his shoes, he stood up and noticed his bike helmet in his closet.
“Wear your helmet,” a small voice inside him seemed to say.
Zach stood still. Is that the Holy Ghost? he wondered. OK, he thought. I’ll wear my helmet. He put it on and ran out of the room. “Bye, Mom!” he called as he ran outside.
The afternoon hurried by as Zach and Jason played pirates in Jason’s tree house. Finally Zach noticed it was getting late.
“I’d better go,” he told Jason. He picked up his bike and snapped his helmet into place again. “See you later.”
Zach pedaled carefully along the side of the street. When he came to the corner, he looked both ways, then started across the road. Just as he reached the other side, a huge blue truck raced around the corner. Suddenly it hit the back tire of Zach’s bike, knocking him to the ground.
Zach caught his breath, then carefully sat up. The road was empty, except for his twisted bike lying nearby.
Zach stood up. He was shaking, but he didn’t seem to be hurt. Then he remembered—his helmet! He reached up and felt it still fastened firmly on his head. It had protected him!
Zach picked up his bike and walked the rest of the way home. When he reached the front door, he ran inside.
“Mom, Mom!” he said, hugging her tightly, his voice shaking a little. “A truck hit my bike!”
“What?! Are you all right?” she asked.
Zach nodded. “I was wearing my helmet. I felt a still, small voice tell me to put it on before I left.”
Mom sighed with relief.
“Sister Jones was right,” Zach continued. “The Holy Ghost is real! I followed His prompting and He protected me—just like my helmet.”

A man in Ecuador met some missionaries on the street near his home and invited them in. They left tracts, pamphlets, and a copy of the Book of Mormon. He read them and liked them and later said of the missionaries:
“I liked their teachings. They taught me things my own church had never taught. I realized I had to live the commandments they told me about. The Word of Wisdom has given me a new life. I know it is of the Lord not to use tobacco, tea, coffee, or liquor. When the elders were teaching me, I knew I had to live it if I were to have a good life. The elders told me to pray about it; then they had to teach me how to pray.”

In Finland a woman, lost and lonely following the death of her husband, was found by missionaries who answered some of her questions. She said:
“I was amazed at their answers. They talked about a reunion with my husband. We had had a wonderful marriage, and I just couldn’t think that it would end just like that. My minister had given me no answers, but those young missionaries told me a beautiful concept of eternal life. I listened in tears and wanted to hear more.”
She studied and read the Book of Mormon, received a testimony, and was baptized.
A convert in England tells his story. Bitter over the death of an infant who had died without baptism and was therefore denied burial in the church cemetery, he was ready for the missionaries his wife had invited to his home. His first question was about the Church’s teaching on infant baptism.
The elders cited a passage from the Book of Mormon which teaches that infants are incapable of sin and that they have no need of baptism because they are saved.
Then he made this comment: “It was the kind of doctrine Christ would teach. I simply couldn’t see how a loving God could feel any other way about children. Then the elders gave me a lesson in obtaining a witness to gain a testimony. I put it to the test, prayed, and received a witness. I felt the burning in my bosom just as the scriptures described. I knew it was true.”
He made this further comment: “One of the most joyous principles to me is celestial marriage. I feel that if people could understand this and really love their husband or wife, they would join the Church on this alone. It’s a wonderful principle.”
Finally, I will deal briefly with the conversion of a Protestant minister, who after much tribulation and persecution by ministers and friends when he decided to convert, gave the following testimony:
“I have written this in order to show that as in the Bible, when a man finds a ‘pearl of great price,’ he will sell all that he has if necessary in order to obtain it [see Matt. 13:46]. I have found that peace and truth within the Mormon church for which I had been seeking for over twelve years.
“I have not quite completed my first reading of the Book of Mormon, but already the riches of its truths as set down by the Prophet Joseph Smith have become a vital part of our family’s spiritual life. No man could have written this book except through the power of God. We accept the test of hatred through which we have passed as God’s test of our sincerity in our seeking.
“My prayer is that others will not continue to willfully blind their eyes, refusing even to read the Book of Mormon in order to learn. No man can read this book and not have his life changed. I have not overnight become an expert on the Mormon faith, but I am an eager student and am not afraid to learn what the Holy Spirit would teach through those to whom He has given the authority.
“My personal tragedy as a Protestant minister was that I wasted a good deal of valuable time trying to keep going an organization and institution which no longer, with any stretch of imagination, can be shown to be doing Christ’s work.”
May I invite you all to study the scriptures, wherein are found the words of eternal life and the way to exaltation.
Jesus said, “This is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39).
This is so important, that he gave his life for us that we may be resurrected, and he gave us the plan of life and salvation by which this may be accomplished. Read the Bible and the Book of Mormon, which testify of the things which I have told you this day.
If you are searching for happiness in this life and eternal life with God the Father and his Son Jesus Christ hereafter, then I would exhort all of you to find the way, the truth, and the life, which is in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Let me give you one example from my own life.

Since I was very young I wanted to be a physician. My uncle Ted was a physician, and he was my role model during my formative years. He treated me when I was sick as a child, and, as I got older, he was both a mentor and a friend. Not only was he a successful doctor, he also served in the Church, serving twice as a bishop. I admired everything about him, and I felt that I would like to pattern my life after his.

As I got older, I kept this goal and enrolled in college courses that would lead to medical school. After my freshman year I left for my mission to Japan and returned in the fall of 1972. Three months later Mary and I were married in the Salt Lake Temple, and a year later our first child was born. As we prayed, both Mary and I felt the desire and prompting to have children, and our second child, little Rebecca, was born in October 1975. Over the years we were blessed with six other children.

During the months preceding the birth of Becky, I had a constant feeling that the Lord was leading us in a direction that did not include medical school. I was confused and a little stubborn in holding on to my childhood desire of becoming a doctor. The J. Reuben Clark Law School had recently opened at BYU, and I felt a continuing impression—and growing desire—that this was where I belonged and where the Lord would have me continue my education.

I had a wonderful stake president who had been a prominent lawyer in Salt Lake and had given it all up to accept the position of secretary to the First Presidency. I went to visit him and told him of both my confusion and the feelings that I was having.

Rather than telling me the answer I was looking for, he said something that I have never forgotten. He said, “David, you know section 9 of the Doctrine and Covenants as well as I do. Go home to your wife, Mary. Study it out in your minds together and come to a decision that you can take to the Lord. Then pray and ask God if what you have decided is right. He will answer you.”

He then said, “This revelation does not need to take months and months of agonizing. Rather, it takes the desire to find out what the Lord would have you do and the determination to do it.”

Two weeks later I was back with my stake president. I told him that both Mary and I were settled and that we would be applying to law school instead of medical school. Once we knew what the Lord would have us do, we were absolutely determined to follow that course. After I told him of our experience, he told me that he had received that same witness when we had met two weeks earlier, but it was important for me to receive the witness rather than for him to just tell me what I should do.

For me it was the right answer. That same path may not be right for others. The way to know is through personal revelation. If you care enough to go through the process of seeking God’s will, God will care enough to answer.

Another happy day she remembered was the day she met the missionaries.

“I have been a member about three and a half years. My mother—she’s not a member—says it happened by chance. Two elders knocked on our door and my father opened it. They taught us right then. My father, my elder sister, and I later joined the Church. My mother and my two brothers, 14 and 8, didn’t join. It’s a hard thing not having the whole family in the Church. Sometimes mom wants me to stay home and do chores instead of going to meetings. My sister and I try to do our best to keep up with the housework and to help each other out so we can still go. I need to have the Church and feel the Spirit. It’s worth all my life. When I don’t get to go to a meeting, I can tell I haven’t been. It’s easier to get depressed or upset. When I do go, my life feels more complete. I feel happy. My daily chores are a breeze.”

When I was eleven years old, my father was called to the bishopric of our ward in Idaho. Back then, the Church was small enough that members of bishoprics were invited to general conference at the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City, Utah. My parents decided that my father should go to general conference. They invited my younger brother and me to go with them.
My brother and I enjoyed the trip. We stayed at a hotel, ate at restaurants, and visited Temple Square. My father told me that if I went to the back door of the Tabernacle after conference on Sunday morning, I could see our prophet, President David O. McKay.
Sunday morning was a cool fall day. I went to the Tabernacle with my parents. I found my way to the place my father had told me to go, and as the minutes passed, I noticed other people gathering there. After conference was over, I kept on waiting and watching, hoping to see President McKay.
Suddenly he came out of the door. He smiled and waved to us. The small crowd of people began singing “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet.” As we stood singing the hymn, a strong, warm feeling filled my being. I knew that the Spirit was telling me that David O. McKay was God’s prophet on the earth at that time.
That was not the only time I went to the back door of the Tabernacle to see the prophet. Each time, as we sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,” that strong, warm feeling returned to me.
I am grateful that when I was a child, Heavenly Father blessed me with a testimony of the living prophets. It has helped me to have confidence in what the living prophets teach. I have been able to feel Heavenly Father’s love for me as I have learned to have faith in the living prophets.

A few years ago, I was called to be a chorister in the Primary. When the counselor in the bishopric extended the call, I was stunned and thought there had been a mistake. I told him I had very little musical training and was not much of a singer. I wasn’t being modest, just very honest. He was quiet for a moment and then he pressed forward and said that sometimes it is good for us to be stretched. I accepted the call and got stretched! I experienced some difficult moments, but there were also wonderful moments, which grew to be more and more frequent and meaningful. I had been serving for about seven months when I really started to love serving in this calling. I was released three weeks later. It was then that I realized I had not served in the way I wished I would have. I realized I could have made the decision to love my calling from the very beginning even though it was sometimes hard and I often felt inadequate. I promised myself never to make that mistake with a calling again. Then ten months ago I got my chance to prove it. In my current calling I serve as the music director in sacrament meeting, and I have loved this calling from the moment it was extended. At first I was so nervous I would run out of breath in the middle of a phrase and would just have to mouth the words while I breathed in. Sometimes I would concentrate so hard on what my hand was doing that I would loose track of the verse we were singing. I freely admit that I am not the most accomplished music director you’ll see, but I love my calling. I wasn’t put in these callings because I had musical talent or training. Instead, I am slowly learning and developing because of the callings. I will be forever grateful for this opportunity, and I sincerely love to study the words of the hymns and the referenced scriptures.
Through this, my understanding of the gospel of Jesus Christ has been deepened in a way I did not anticipate. I was not even really aware of what I was missing out on before I began to study and really sing sacred music. I sang every week in church and enjoyed hymns casually, but a whole new world has opened up to me now. The reason I have shared this experience with you is so you will understand that I have just recently discovered that one of the best ways to rejoice in Christ is through the study and singing of hymns.

Many years later, in 2000, the Adelaide Australia Temple was dedicated, and every month, Bill and Betty would travel four hours from Whyalla to serve and worship there. Then in 2003, they drew a circle of a 30-minute radius to the temple and were blessed to find a home which was only a ten-minute drive away. They began working two days a week at that temple and did so for 10 years, until Bill became ill.
Betty returned to regular temple visits after Bill passed away in 2015 and now, at age 91, she says, “I hope to be doing that until the day I die”.

Age 16. From Alberta, Canada. Likes laughing, learning, and cooking the perfect hamburger.
Growing up, my parents were very active in the Church. I often felt like I was dragged to service projects without a choice. As I’ve grown older and continued to participate in service, I’ve found that it has changed me for the better. As I focus less on myself, I’m happier.
Once, I had an opportunity to go to the inner city with a few other youth to help the homeless. One man from El Salvador told me about how he had to leave his home country due to violence and ended up on the streets in Canada. I also met a man who reminded me to stay in school and not to take my opportunities for granted.
Hearing their stories and seeing their perseverance and humility had a profound effect on me. It’s easy to ignore the homeless and assume that they brought their situation on themselves. But Isaiah talks about how Jesus Christ bore our sorrows and was rejected of men (see Isaiah 53:3). I believe that as disciples of Jesus Christ, we shouldn’t ignore those who are rejected like He was.
While I may not be able to solve all their problems, I know that even the smallest acts of service can make a big difference in someone’s life.
“Even the smallest acts of service can make a big difference.”

Joseph’s father, Hyrum Smith, was the Prophet Joseph Smith’s older brother. Both the Prophet and Hyrum were shot and killed by a mob when young Joseph was only five years old. It is well known that Hyrum had been the Prophet Joseph’s great friend and support through much of their lives and that Joseph had loved his older brother as he loved his own life. The Lord also had expressed his love for Hyrum, “because of the integrity of his heart, and because he loveth that which is right before me” (D&C 124:15).
Throughout his life, Joseph F. Smith loved his father with a special devotion. His last memory of his father, as Hyrum rode off to Carthage, was vivid: “Without getting off his horse,” President Smith related later, “father leaned over in his saddle and picked me up off the ground. He kissed me goodbye and put me down again and I saw him ride away.” This experience was to be followed by days of uncertainty and then a night of terror. “I remember the night of the murder … when one of the brethren came from Carthage and knocked on our window after dark and called to my mother, ‘Sister Smith, your husband has been killed.’” Although this occurred when the boy was only five years old, many years later he still remembered the terror of that night.
Two years after Hyrum’s death, Joseph F. Smith and his widowed mother, Mary Fielding Smith, set off across the plains of North America with many other Mormon pioneers. Sister Smith had not only her own two young children, but she was also caring for the five children of her slain husband and his first wife, who had died earlier. At age seven, Joseph drove the family’s ox team to Winter Quarters, Nebraska. At age nine, he drove the wagon on to the Salt Lake Valley.
During the time on the plains, young Joseph learned many lessons of faith from his mother. Upon awakening one morning, the Smiths found that their best team of oxen was missing. The young boy and his uncle, Joseph Fielding, set out and searched an entire morning in vain. Fatigued and discouraged, they returned to camp. There they found Mary Fielding Smith on her knees, pleading for God to help them in this search, since the loss of the oxen would mean further delay in reaching their destination.
Arising from prayer, this youthful pioneer mother told her brother and her son to have breakfast, and she would bring back the cattle. She started toward the river, despite her brother’s protests that further search was futile. Ignoring first her brother and then a herdsman from a Missouri wagon train who tried to tell her that he had seen the oxen headed in the opposite direction that morning, Mary Fielding Smith continued walking to the river. Then, turning at the bank, she motioned to her brother and son to join her. As they did, they found the oxen tied to a clump of willows, hidden from sight. Someone had apparently put them there, planning to return after the pioneer group had moved on.
President Smith later said that this experience was “one of the first practical and positive demonstrations of the efficacy of prayer I have ever witnessed.” The impression it made on his mind was to aid him all through his life.
Four years after they entered the Salt Lake Valley—when Joseph F. was thirteen years old—his mother died, leaving him without father or mother.
During his fifteenth year, Joseph F. Smith was ordained an elder, endowed, and sent to serve as a missionary in the Hawaiian Islands. There he experienced illness and discouragement far beyond that which is usual for a young man of his age. But with these experiences came an increased deepening of his soul and a broadening of his capacities as new spiritual insights were added in his life.
One such experience was a dream, significantly centering on a family experience. This dream occurred during a time in his mission when he was greatly depressed. “I was … entirely friendless. … I felt as if I was so debased in my condition of poverty, lack of intelligence and knowledge, just a boy, that I hardly dared look a … man in the face.”
In the dream, Joseph saw his uncle, the Prophet Joseph Smith; his father, Hyrum Smith; and his mother, Mary Fielding Smith. He was comforted, and his testimony of the Prophet and of the plan of salvation were strengthened: “When I awoke that morning I was a man, although only a boy. There was not anything in the world that I feared. … That vision, that manifestation and witness that I enjoyed at that time has made me what I am, if I am anything that is good, or clean, or upright before the Lord. That has helped me out of every trial and through every difficulty.”
Joseph F. Smith was not to be alone nor deprived of a family all of his life. When he was twenty years old, he married Levira Smith shortly before departing for his second mission—this time to Great Britain. During this mission, he had the comfort of knowing that someone waited for him. He later married five other wives (living as they did during the days of the Church’s practice of plural marriage): Julina Lambson, Sarah Ellen Richards, Edna Lambson, Alice Ann Kimball, and Mary Taylor Schwartz. He became the father of forty-eight children. One son, Joseph Fielding Smith, grew up to become the tenth President of the Church.
A beautiful illustration of Joseph F. Smith’s love for his family comes from his early years as a father, when he was existing on a poverty wage and was paid only in commodities. In these destitute circumstances, he made a trip to town one day before Christmas to buy “something for my chicks.”
“I wanted something to please them, and to mark the Christmas day from all other days—but not a cent to do it with! I walked up and down Main Street, looking into the shop windows … everywhere—and then slunk out of sight of humanity and sat down and wept like a child until my poured-out grief relieved my aching heart; and after awhile returned home, as empty as when I left, and played with my children, grateful and happy … for them.”
Another experience illustrating his love for family occurred at the death of his firstborn, a little daughter, Mercy Josephine, whom he affectionately referred to as “Dodo.” Little Dodo died when she was three. After watching over her night after night, holding her, and encouraging her, Elder Smith grieved when she went sleepless one entire night. The next morning when she said, “I’ll sleep tonight, papa,” the words “shot through my heart.” Shortly thereafter, she died.
He expressed the sorrow of his heart in a letter: “I scarcely dare to trust myself to write, even now my heart aches, and my mind is all chaos; if I should murmur, may God forgive me, my soul has been and is tried with poignant grief, my heart is bruised and wrenched almost asunder. I am desolate, my home seems desolate and almost dreary … my own sweet Dodo is gone! I can scarcely believe it and my heart asks, can it be? I look in vain, I listen, no sound, I wander through the rooms, all are vacant, lonely, desolate, deserted. I look down the garden walk, peer around the house, look here and there for a glimpse of a little golden, sunny head and rosy cheeks, but no, alas, no pattering little footsteps. No beaming little black eyes sparkling with love for papa; no sweet little enquiring voice … no soft dimpled hands clasping me around the neck, no sweet rosy lips returning in childish innocence my fond embrace and kisses, but a vacant little chair. Her little toys are concealed, her clothes put by, and only the one desolate thought forcing its crushing leaden weight upon my heart—she is not here, she is gone! … I am almost wild, and O God only knows how much I loved my girl, and she the light and joy of my heart.”
Forty-six years later, just two years before his own death, President Smith wrote in his journal, “This is the 49th anniversary of the birth of my firstborn child, Mercy Josephine. A most beautiful and intelligent little girl. She died June 6, 1870, nearly three years old, leaving but the memory of the sweetest, happiest, loveliest three years of my whole life up to that time. O how I loved and cherished that little angel of love and light.”
For Joseph F. Smith, love of family was the highest joy. Shortly after becoming the prophet of the Lord, he said:
“There can be no genuine happiness separate and apart from the home, and every effort made to sanctify and preserve its influence is uplifting to those who toil and sacrifice for its establishment. Men and women often seek to substitute some other life for that of the home; they would make themselves believe that the home means restraint; that the highest liberty is the fullest opportunity to move about at will. There is no happiness without service, and there is no service greater than that which converts the home into a divine institution, and which promotes and preserves family life.
“Those who shirk home responsibilities are wanting in an important element of social well-being. They may indulge themselves in social pleasures, but their pleasures are superficial and result in disappointment later in life.”
In addition to making great contributions at home with his own family, Joseph F. Smith spent most of his life as a missionary or Church leader. After his first mission in the Hawaiian Islands at age fifteen, he served a three-year mission in Great Britain and was then ordained as an Apostle and counselor to the First Presidency at the age of twenty-seven. As an Apostle, he served as president of the European and British missions. At age forty-one, he again became a member of the First Presidency of the Church and served in the First Presidency for nearly forty years—half his lifetime—until his death at age eighty. Having served as a counselor to the First Presidency during the administration of Brigham Young, he also served as counselor in the First Presidency to John Taylor, Wilford Woodruff, and Lorenzo Snow. Then, in 1901, at age sixty-two, he became President of the Church.
During most of President Smith’s life, the Church was under great attack from the United States government because of its practice of plural marriage. President Smith became one of the Church’s most able defenders of the practice. For a time, he and other leaders went into voluntary exile—and it pained him to be unable to be with and care for his large family. Then, in 1888 and 1889, he went to Washington, D.C., attempting to negotiate with the United States government for relaxation of repressive laws against the Latter-day Saints.
After President Wilford Woodruff received the revelation known as the Manifesto, discontinuing the practice of plural marriage in 1890 (see OD 1), President Smith continued to work tirelessly to ease tensions between the Church and the government and to enhance public respect for the Church. President Smith presided over the Church during a time of great prosperity and growth. As prophet, he strengthened the role of priesthood quorums and emphasized the importance of the home.
One of President Joseph F. Smith’s greatest contributions to the Church was his forthright teaching of the gospel. While he served as prophet, he and his counselors in the First Presidency issued statements clarifying Church doctrine on such topics as the origin of man and the nature of God the Father and Jesus Christ. They also warned against false teachings. After his death, some of his most important messages were published as a book, entitled Gospel Doctrine.
His “Vision of the Redemption of the Dead” has been accepted as scripture and is now found in section 138 of the Doctrine and Covenants [D&C 138]. On 3 October 1918, only six weeks before his death, President Smith received a vision in which he saw the Savior’s ministry in the spirit world during the short time between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. (See 1 Pet. 3:18–20; 1 Pet. 4:6). President Smith witnessed the Savior ministering to the righteous Saints and prophets who had died; he also saw the Savior organizing missionary work to go forth among the spirits of the wicked and the unrepentant.
This wonderful revelation came to the aged prophet as he sat in his room, “pondering over the scriptures;
“And reflecting upon the great atoning sacrifice that was made by the Son of God, for the redemption of the world;
“And the great and wonderful love made manifest by the Father and the Son in the coming of the Redeemer into the world” (D&C 138:1–3).
In the vision, President Smith saw that “the saints rejoiced in their redemption, and bowed the knee and acknowledged the Son of God as their Redeemer and Deliverer from death and the chains of hell” (D&C 138:23).
Thus, he had hope for the salvation of all who love the Lord—from his own cherished daughter “Dodo,” to every one of our Father’s children.
And through President Smith’s witness, all of us can have that same hope in the eternal nature of God, in His plan for our happiness, and in His promise to the faithful of the blessing of eternal family relationships.

I was 16 and playing my new rock-and-roll album for the first time. Unfortunately, as I listened, I was disappointed to hear a vulgar word in the last song. I was embarrassed. I knew my parents would not approve—the record didn’t meet our family’s standards. But I liked the rest of the songs, so whenever I played the record, I turned down the volume just before the offensive word was sung.
My well-meaning sister told my father about my album. Later, when he and I were in the dining room, he shared his concern about the inappropriate word. Although his comment was said in a kind manner, I dug in and stubbornly defended my position.
I used every argument I could think of to convince my dad that I should keep the record. “I didn’t know that word was on the album when I bought it,” I said, “and when that song plays, I turn it down.”
When he said I should still get rid of the record, I said, “If you think that, then I should quit school too! I hear that word—and worse ones—every day at school!”
He began to get frustrated. He reemphasized that we shouldn’t have vulgar music in our home. The argument escalated as I said there were worse sins I could commit and that I never used that word.
I tried to turn the tables: “I try so hard to be good, and then you focus on this one little thing and think I’m an evil sinner!”
Even so, my father wouldn’t back down. Neither would I. I marched upstairs to my room, slammed the door, and lay on my bed, seething. I rehearsed my argument over and over in my head, entrenching myself deeper in my flawed logic and convincing myself I was right.
Ten minutes later, there was a soft knock at the door. It was Dad. His countenance had changed. He wasn’t there to argue. “I’m sorry I got angry,” he said. “Will you forgive me?” He told me how much he loved me and that he thought highly of me. He didn’t preach. He didn’t give me counsel. Then he turned and quietly left the room.
A thousand sermons on humility could never have been more powerful to me. I was no longer angry with him, just with myself for being so stubborn and difficult. I fetched the record, snapped it in two, and threw it away. I don’t know if I ever told Dad what I did, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that I had learned that my dad valued our relationship more than his own pride, even when he had been in the right.

My great-grandma didn’t have much money growing up, so she and her family did scavenger hunts for Christmas because the only presents they could afford were little things like pencils and erasers. The scavenger hunt made up for not getting a lot of big or expensive gifts.
The tradition has been passed down, and now every Christmas, my family does a scavenger hunt. My siblings and I make scavenger hunts for each other and hide clues—I even hid a clue on my dog once. I like it not only because it’s fun, but because it brings my family together and I get to connect with my great-grandmother, even though I’ve never met her.
This tradition helps us understand that Christmas isn’t about the presents you get. It’s about Christ, His birth, and everything He’s done for us. I know Christ’s Atonement is not just used for repentance; we can use it because Christ knows exactly what we’re going through. We’re never alone, and Jesus knows what we’re going through because He went through it too.
Rachel B., 16, California, USA

Since the Mount Timpanogos Temple is in their community, students at the Pleasant Grove seminary join with other seminary students from other high schools on Sunday evenings at the temple grounds. It’s an informal gathering where young people sit on the grass and sing hymns. John Fisher’s favorite hymn is now “I Need Thee Every Hour,” because of an experience that happened to him while singing at the temple grounds. He said, “When I first read through the Book of Mormon, I fasted and prayed to know if it was true. I was singing at the Mount Timpanogos Temple. During “I Need Thee Every Hour,” I looked up at the temple, and I got my answer right there. The temple just seemed to be glowing about three times brighter. I just knew.”

I met another young woman whose early spiritual preparation has woven a life of righteousness into many generations.

On a beautiful September afternoon, my husband and I were in the temple awaiting the opportunity to participate in temple ordinances. Chris, a friend of ours, entered the room. It was great to see this young man, who had recently returned from a mission to Russia.

As the session was about to begin, a lovely young woman sat next to me. She was radiant, smiling, and filled with light. I wanted to know her, so I quietly introduced myself. She whispered her name, Kate, and I recognized her last name as a family that had lived in Michigan, where my family once lived. Kate was their grown-up daughter, who five weeks earlier had returned from her mission to Germany.

During the session the thought kept entering my mind: “Introduce Kate to Chris.” I put this prompting aside, thinking, “When, where, how?” As we were preparing to leave, Chris came over to tell us good-bye and I seized the opportunity. I pulled Kate over and whispered, “You are two virtuous young people who need to know each other.” I left the temple satisfied that I had acted upon my prompting.

On the way home, my husband and I discussed our recollections of the challenges that had come to Kate’s family. I have since come to know Kate better, and she has helped me understand the reasons for the joyful countenance I observed in the temple that day.

Kate has always tried to stay on her covenant path by seeking holy places. She was raised in a home where having family home evening, praying together, and studying the scriptures made her home a holy place. As a child, she learned about the temple, and the song “I Love to See the Temple” was a favorite for family home evening. As a little girl, she watched her parents set an example of seeking a holy place as they went to the temple on a weekend evening instead of going to a movie or to dinner.

She loved her father dearly, and he used his priesthood authority to help her make her first covenant of baptism. She then had hands laid on her head and received the Holy Ghost. Kate said, “I was excited to receive the Holy Ghost, and I knew that it would help me stay on the path to eternal life.”

Life continued on for Kate in a very blessed and happy way. When she was 14, she started high school and loved seminary, another holy place to learn about the gospel. One day her teacher started to talk about trials and guaranteed that we would all face them. She said to herself, “I don’t want trials; I don’t want to hear this.”

It was just a few weeks later that her father woke up on Easter Sunday extremely ill. Kate said: “My father was a very healthy person; he was a marathon runner. My mother was so alarmed by how sick he was that she took him to the hospital. Within 36 hours he had a massive stroke that shut down most of his body. He could blink, but the rest of his body was not working. I remember seeing him and thinking, ‘Oh no, it’s happening. My seminary teacher was right. I am having a trial.’” Within a few days Kate’s father passed away.

Continuing, Kate said: “It was so hard. You never want to lose the hero of your life. I knew I could make it a springboard for growth or allow it to be a roadblock. I didn’t want to let it ruin my life, because I was only 14 years old. I tried to be as close to the Lord as possible. I read my scriptures a lot. Alma chapter 40 assured me that the resurrection is real and through Christ’s Atonement, I could be with my father again. I prayed a lot. I wrote in my journal as often as I could. I kept my testimony vibrant by writing it down. I went to church and to Young Women every week. I surrounded myself with good friends. I kept close to caring relatives and especially to my mom, who was the anchor in our family. I sought out priesthood blessings from my grandfather and other priesthood holders.”

These consistent choices, like those of the wise virgin, added oil to Kate’s lamp. She was motivated by her desire to be with her father again. Kate knew her father was aware of her choices, and she did not want to disappoint him. She wanted an eternal relationship with him, and she understood that staying on her covenant path would keep her life woven tightly with his.

The trials didn’t end, however. When Kate was 21 and submitting her mission papers, her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Kate had to make an important decision in her life. Should she stay home and support her mother or go on her mission? Her mother was given a priesthood blessing promising that she would survive the illness. Assured by this blessing, Kate went forward with faith and continued her plans to serve a mission.

Kate said: “It was taking a step in the dark, but while I was on my mission, the light eventually came and I received news that my mother’s blessing was realized. I was so glad that I didn’t put off serving the Lord. When hard things come, I think it’s easy to become stagnant and not really want to move forward, but if you put the Lord first, the adversities can lead to beautiful blessings. You can see His hand and witness miracles.” Kate experienced the reality of President Thomas S. Monson’s words: “Our most significant opportunities will be found in times of greatest difficulty.”

Kate had this kind of faith because she understood the plan of salvation. She knew we lived before, that earth is a time of testing, and that we will live again. She had faith that her mother would be blessed, but from her experience with her father, she knew that if her mother were to pass away, it would be all right. She said: “I didn’t just survive my dad’s death; it became part of my identity for good, and had my mom been taken away, it would have done the same thing. It would have woven a greater testimony into my life.”

Kate was seeking a holy place the night I met her in the temple. Desiring to weave tightly the eternal relationships that come through temple service, she followed the pattern set by her parents of regular temple attendance.

Not much happened the night I introduced Kate to Chris, but in seeking another holy place the following Sunday, Kate saw Chris amid hundreds of young single adults at an institute devotional. There they found out more about each other. A few weeks later, Chris invited her to watch general conference with him. They continued seeking places that invited the Spirit throughout their courtship and were eventually sealed in the temple, the holy place where they were introduced. Both are now fulfilling the sacred responsibility of parenthood, weaving their testimonies of the plan of salvation into the lives of three little boys, showing them the way on the covenant path.

Rebecca loves music and ballroom dancing. Actually, Matthew loves music, too, and they often sing and play piano together. But ballroom dancing? More on that later.
Remember the ballroom dancing mentioned above? That’s where Matthew may have set the gold standard for sibling support. Not only did he practice ballroom dancing at home with Rebecca, he also learned a routine so that he could perform with another girl on a song Rebecca choreographed. When the ballroom dance club needed an extra member, Matthew joined. Now Rebecca relies on him when she tests routines: “I ask him if it will work or not, and together we figure it out.”
Not long ago, members of the club staged a workshop for the youth in Rebecca’s and Matthew’s ward. Rebecca took charge and got everyone involved. “And Matthew got to dance with all the girls!” Rebecca teases. Matthew just grins.

It was in my junior year here that I ran into the above scriptures and first pondered them. I must confess that I simply could not get my mind around them. Then one day some years later, understanding came.
I was one of a number of Church Educational System faculty to make presentations in a weeklong symposium held in Tempe, Arizona. That particular day I had gone to a nearby Laundromat to do some much-needed washing. As I was waiting for my clothes to dry, I read Doctrine and Covenants 93. Once again I was brought up against light and truth, but this time something happened. A number of scriptures slotted themselves into place and I understood. It is this understanding that I have chosen to share with you today.

Four years after Grandfather joined the Church, my father, then a young lad eight years old, accompanied his family and the members of two other families to a baptismal service. Grandfather was to baptize his young daughter and the daughters of a neighboring family on that cold December 3, 1899. As they traveled toward the stream at Reynold’s Mill, they were approached by three men on horseback. When the men asked where they were going, Grandfather explained their intentions. The leader threatened to bring a mob upon them if they carried out the baptismal service. Grandfather informed him that he and the 20 people with him would complete their errand regardless of what the man and his associates did. Grandfather and his party continued their journey to Reynold’s Mill.
Arriving at the mill they located a secluded spot for the baptism. The hill above the river was covered with trees, scrub oak, and ivy. My father, young John, was perched on a fallen tree that stretched out across a sandbar into the slow-moving stream. Here he could observe every detail of this sacred ordinance. Grandfather waded out into the stream to find the right depth and then returned to the riverbank for prayer. In the quiet of the prayer John heard the sound of a cracking limb. Opening his eyes and glancing quickly up the hill through the trees he saw the men who had stopped them earlier. They had arrived with a mob to carry out their threat. One of them was by a pile of rocks and was ready to pelt the baptismal participants. Suddenly all eyes were opened as a big redbone hound owned by the leader of the mob bounded down to within a few feet of my father. Young John looked fearfully at the hound as it growled menacingly. These men and their associates were determined to stop the baptisms from being performed. My Grandfather Pinegar courageously proceeded with the services.
Convinced now that these Mormon families were unafraid of his threat, the mob leader commanded his dog to attack Grandfather Pinegar. At this moment an amazing thing happened. The dog let out a low growl and his hair bristled like that on an angry hog’s back. Suddenly it bared its teeth and turned on its master, leaping at his throat and knocking him to the ground. The rest of the mob fled in fear when they saw the dog turn on its owner. As soon as the astonished leader could free himself from his dog, he left in hurried pursuit of his associates, with the dog yelping close at his heels.
A miracle had occurred! The Pinegar family and their neighbors thanked the Lord for their deliverance, and the baptismal service continued without further interruption.
That evening the families returned to Grandfather’s home. After darkness had fallen upon the mountain cabin, the troublemakers returned and again threatened to mob my grandfather and his Mormon friends. As they taunted him from the gate, Grandfather commanded them in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ to leave. The mob departed and did not return.

Even Elder Maxwell’s young grandchildren knew him for his emphasis on the scriptures. Many of you will probably remember that in his final general conference message he told about a time he visited his grandchildren late one evening. His grandson Robbie had already gone to bed. When Elder Maxwell arrived, his mother said, “Robbie, Grandpa Neal is here!” He heard a tired little voice from the bedroom saying, “Shall I bring my scriptures?” (CR, April 2004, 48; or “Remember How Merciful the Lord Hath Been,” Ensign, May 2004, 46). Like Josiah the boy-king and little grandson Robbie, we should learn early in our lives to love the scriptures, to feast upon them, and to learn from them.

A few weeks ago while in England, I had the opportunity to do some traveling by train. Weather and time schedules indicated this to be the most satisfactory method of transportation.
One day as the train rolled from Manchester to Leicester, after about an hour and a half of reading, I put down my books, looked out the window, and wondered if we were getting close to the station. A few minutes later the door to the compartment opened and the conductor entered. He greeted me with, “What is your destination?”
Inasmuch as I had been giving some thought to arrivals, departures, and stops, I answered, “I have an appointment in Leicester.”
To this he responded with, “We shall be at your destination in ten minutes.” He punched my ticket and made his way to check others.
After he left, I pondered his comments, “What is your destination?” and “We shall be at your destination in ten minutes.” He seemed convinced that every time the train stopped and dozens or hundreds of people got off, they had arrived at their destinations. Apparently he has been announcing this to his passengers for years.
However, I knew, despite his comments, that I needed to be in Leicester for two days for quarterly stake conference sessions but that it was not my destination. Stops in other English cities were not my destinations either. They were all assignments along the way. I had not arrived when I reached any of them.
As a result of this experience on the train, and having given this thought some consideration over the years, I am concerned that many of us are confused in our life’s travels with destinations, arrivals, stops, calls, stations, and assignments. It appears to me that some of us may be lost today because we think we have arrived.

Steve was working on a term paper when a credit card company called his Brigham Young University dorm. The company was offering cards to students and wondered if he would like to apply. Happy to take a break from studying, Steve agreed to answer a few questions. He told the representative he was on scholarship and had no income. Since he planned to serve a mission at the end of the year, it would be a long time before he graduated and began a career. I’ll never get approved, Steve thought as the conversation ended. To his amazement, he received a $2,000-limit credit card a week later in the mail.
Credit card debt can get out of control, causing heartache and deep financial troubles if unchecked. President Gordon B. Hinckley has said, “Debt can be a terrible thing. It is so easy to incur and so difficult to repay. Borrowed money is had only at a price, and that price can be burdensome” (Ensign, Mar. 1990, 4). Steve learned this lesson the hard way. For the first few months he had his credit card, it stayed in his wallet. But in the last three weeks of his freshman year, Steve went on a spending spree. “After a year of living on a few hundred dollars a month, I decided to go have some fun,” says Steve.
With his credit card he paid for weekend trips and new clothes. By the time he went home, he had racked up charges nearing his credit limit. As a result, he spent the summer before his mission working frantically to pay off the debt. “It wasn’t a positive learning experience,” says Steve. “At the time, I didn’t realize that a credit card doesn’t expand your income now; it shrinks your future income because of debt.”