Gospel Story Finder

Sis. Tew: Later, an orphaned 15 year old Joseph F. Smith was called on a mission to Hawaii. On Moloka'i, he became seriously sick with fever for three months. Lovingly, he was nursed along by a dear Hawaiian sister, Ma Mahuhii. Decades later, when President Smith visited Hawaii as part of its first jubilee celebration, Bishop Charles W. Nibley recorded the following:
Bro. Tew: "I noticed a poor, old, blind woman tottering under the weight of about 90 years, being led (into the meeting house where the Saints were gathering to greet President Joseph F. Smith.) She had a few choice bananas in her hand. It was her all—her offering. She was calling 'Iosepa, Iosepa!' Instantly, when he saw her, he ran to her and clasped her in his arms, hugged her, and kissed her over and over again, patting her on the head saying, 'Momma, Momma, my dear old Momma!' And with tears streaming down his cheeks he turned to me and said, 'Charley, she nursed me when I was a boy, sick and without anyone to care for me. She took me in and was a mother to me!'"

You young people are a wonderful sight. It doesn’t seem that long ago that I was young and in school. After graduating, I started my career teaching automotive technology at a large high school where about 180 students passed through my classroom door—my shop door—each day. I was also teaching a night class once a week for the county vehicle emissions program. My wife, Shelly, and I were raising our children, striving to live the gospel the best that we knew how, and I was working on a master’s degree. I was also serving as the ward Young Men’s president. I felt that I could not handle one more thing. Shelly and I were both happy and we were busy.
I received a phone call one evening from a brother in our ward who was the ward activities chairperson. He asked if I could have the young men perform a skit for the ward activity that was scheduled in three weeks. I assured him I could. Unfortunately, I put off the assignment and didn’t give it much thought until he called me about three nights before the ward activity to see if the young men were prepared to perform their skit. I said, “I’m sorry, we won’t be performing anything that night. We are not prepared.” He retorted, “I gave you an assignment and you agreed to it. I expect—the ward expects—that you will have the young men ready for their part that night.”
I was puzzled and bothered at his response, and I wanted to react. But something inside me—a feeling—helped me understand that I needed to be CAUTIOUS in my reply. I didn’t realize it then, but looking back, I now see that I was in a moment of what Steven R. Covey describes as the space between stimulus and response.
So how did I respond to the good brother in my ward who asked me to have the young men perform a skit at a ward social? This one time, I happened to listen to a quiet, calm feeling that prompted me to reply in a cautious way and to not take offense. As I did so, a feeling of relief swept over me as I changed my answer of not being prepared and unsupportive to the prior response that I had agreed to initially. I reassured him that the young men would take part in the ward activity.
After I hung up the phone, an impression came to my mind in a clear way. It was this: that the young men of the ward would be much better served by my not taking offense, and instead to be supportive of the ward activity AND to a fellow ward member who was trying to do his best in fulfilling his calling.
I was then prompted to call one of my counselors and explained what we needed to come up with in three days, who, after listening to me and the predicament I had gotten myself into, said, “Leave it to me. I have an idea that the young men and the ward members will all enjoy.” Here again a feeling of relief and gratitude came as this load was lifted from me. I gained a confidence that day that being willing to receive correction is part of life and that the Lord is generous to us as we strive to improve ourselves. A few days later, the young men did perform their skit, and thanks to my fellow presidency member, it was a success.
There is more to this story: about 18 months after this ward activity, the good brother who was our activities chair was called to serve as bishop of our ward, and he asked that I serve as a counselor to him in the new bishopric. It was then that I became even more appreciative that I did not react but responded to him in a positive way.

I have a friend who learned this truth in a very personal way. His son was raised in the gospel, but he seemed to be wandering spiritually. He frequently declined opportunities to exercise the priesthood. His parents were disappointed when he declared that he had decided not to serve a mission. My friend prayed earnestly for his son, hoping that he would have a change of heart. Those hopes were dashed when his son announced that he was engaged to be married. The father pleaded with his son to get his patriarchal blessing. The son finally agreed but insisted on visiting the patriarch alone.

When he returned after the blessing, he was very emotional. He took his girlfriend outside, where he could talk to her privately. The father peeked out the window to see the young couple wiping away each other’s tears.

Later the son shared with his father what had happened. With great emotion he explained that during the blessing, he had a glimpse of who he was in the premortal world. He saw how valiant and influential he was in persuading others to follow Christ. Knowing who he really was, how could he not serve a mission?

No description of models for us to follow would be complete without including Joseph Smith, the first prophet of this dispensation. When but 14 years of age, this courageous young man entered a grove of trees, which later would be called sacred, and received an answer to his sincere prayer.

There followed for Joseph unrelenting persecution as he related to others the account of the glorious vision he received in that grove. Although he was ridiculed and scorned, he stood firm. Said he, “I had seen a vision; I knew it, and I knew that God knew it, and I could not deny it, neither dared I do it.”

Step by step, facing opposition at nearly every turn and yet always guided by the hand of the Lord, Joseph organized The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He proved courageous in all that he did.

Toward the end of his life, as he was led away with his brother Hyrum to Carthage Jail, he bravely faced what he undoubtedly knew lay ahead for him, and he sealed his testimony with his blood.

As we face life’s tests, may we ever emulate that undaunted courage epitomized by the Prophet Joseph Smith.

Many years ago, when our children were small, we attended a local fair as a family. We had great fun on the rides and enjoyed the food and music. When it was time to return home, I noticed that I had lost the car and house keys. The place was large and full of people. How were we going to find those keys? Our strategy was to go to a secluded spot in the fairgrounds and have a family prayer. Then we went out to search for the keys.

The first thing we saw was a policeman on duty. We approached him, told him of our predicament, and then asked if a bundle of keys had been handed to him. He immediately asked us one question: “Are you members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?” After the initial shock caused by his question, I answered “Yes.”

He then handed me the keys and explained to us how he knew that we indeed were members of His Church. He told us that his father had been a branch president who also carried among his keys a small vial of consecrated oil, like the one I had on my keyring.

A few weeks later, our two youngest children got lost in a large department store where we had gone to get new eyeglasses for the older children. After waiting a while, they got bored and decided to go off on their own, looking for the toy section. The consequence was that they got separated from us.

What did they do when they realized that they were lost? They went to a secluded spot in the store and offered a faithful prayer that they would be reunited with us. Then they stepped out of that spot, with great faith that they would be found. At that same time, their older brother saw them as he was looking for them in that area.

Consider all that is learned from these two interrelated stories of faith. It is in the daily practice of the gospel that we mostly teach, and that children learn the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. It happens as we seek to diligently keep His commandments and covenants.

Although he never became a member of the Church, Thomas Leiper Kane was a great friend of the Latter-day Saints in their struggles against religious persecution. Many times he helped find solutions to misunderstandings between the government and the Mormon pioneers. He served honorably in the United States Civil War and later directed the development of mines and the construction of a railroad in Pennsylvania, where he had been born in 1822. In a March 26, 1850 lecture to the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, he described a 1846 visit to Nauvoo, Illinois—just after the mob had expelled the remnant of the Saints and captured the city. This article is extracted from that lecture.
Before reaching Nauvoo, Kane described the area of Iowa through which he traveled by boat and horsedrawn carriage as being a sanctuary for “horse thieves, and other outlaws.” He said he grew tired of seeing “everywhere sordid, vagabond and idle settlers; and a country marred, without being improved, by their careless hands.”
I was descending the last hillside upon my journey, when a landscape in delightful contrast broke upon my view. Half encircled by a bend of the river, a beautiful city lay glittering in the fresh morning sun; its bright new dwellings, set in cool green gardens, ranging up around a stately dome-shaped hill, which was crowned by a noble marble edifice, whose tapering spire was radiant with white and gold. The city appeared to cover several miles; and beyond it, in the back ground, there [were well-tended fields]. The unmistakable marks of industry, enterprise and educated wealth, everywhere, made the scene one of singular and most striking beauty.
Kane obtained a small boat and rowed across the river to the city’s shore.
No one met me there. I looked, and saw no one. I could hear no one move; though the quiet everywhere was such that I heard the flies buzz, and the water ripples breaking against the shallow of the beach. I walked through the solitary streets. The town lay as in a dream, under some deadening spell of loneliness, from which I almost feared to wake it. For plainly it had not slept long. There was no grass growing up in the paved ways. Rains had not entirely washed away the prints of dusty footsteps.
Kane walked through workshops where materials of wood, leather, and iron were stacked ready for use, and equipment and tools lay where they had been left by the craftsmen. He then walked into well-cared-for gardens; examined fruits, vegetables and flowers; and helped himself to a drink from a well.
No one called out to me from any opened window, or any dog sprang forward to bark an alarm. I could have supposed the people hidden in the houses, but the doors were unfastened; and when I timidly entered them, I found [cold] ashes white upon the hearths, and had to tread tiptoe, … to avoid rousing irreverent echoes from the naked floors.
Bedroom of the Jonathan Browning house. Browning, a convert to the Church, invented one of the earliest automatic rifles.
On the outskirts of the city was the graveyard. But there was no record of the Plague there, nor did it in anywise differ much from other Protestant American cemeteries. Some of the mounds were not long sodded; some of the stones were newly set, their dates recent, …
Kane said that beyond the houses fields upon fields of grain lay rotting on the ground with no one to harvest it. As he walked around the suburbs at the southern edge of the city, he made two important discoveries.
Houses looking out upon the country showed, by their splintered woodwork and walls battered to the foundation, that they had lately been the mark of a destructive cannonade. And in and around the splendid Temple, which had been the chief object of my admiration, armed men were barracked, surrounded by their stacks of musketry and pieces of heavy ordnance. These [men] challenged me to render an account of myself, and why I had the temerity to cross the water without written permission from a leader of their band.
Though these men were generally more or less under the influence of ardent spirits [alcohol]; after I had explained myself as a passing stranger, they seemed anxious to gain my good opinion. They told me the story of the Dead City: that it had been a notable manufacturing and commercial [center], with 20,000 population; that they had waged war with its inhabitants for several years, and had been finally successful only a few days before my visit, in an action fought in front of the ruined suburb; after which, they had driven them forth at the point of the sword. The defence, they said, had been obstinate, but gave way on the third day’s bombardment. They boasted greatly of their prowess, especially in this Battle, as they called it; but I discovered they [could not agree on the details]; one of which, as I remember, was that they had slain a father and his son, a boy of fifteen, not long residents of the fated city, whom they admitted to have borne a character without reproach.
Kane was then shown around the “massive sculptured walls of the curious Temple,” which the invaders had vandalized. He was shown various features of the building including the baptismal font, “a large and deep chiselled marble vase or basin, supported upon twelve (life-size) oxen, also of marble.”
They permitted me also to ascend into the steeple, to see where it had been lightning-struck on the Sabbath before; and to look out, East and South, on wasted farms like those I had seen near the City, extending till they were lost in the distance. Here, … close to the scar of the Divine wrath left by the thunderbolt, were fragments of food, cruses of liquor and broken drinking vessels, …
It was after nightfall, when I was ready to cross the river on my return. The wind had freshened since the sunset; and the water beating roughly into my little boat, I headed higher up the stream than the point I had left in the morning, and landed where a faint glimmering light invited me to steer.
Here, … sheltered only by the darkness, without roof between them and the sky, I came upon a crowd of several hundred human creatures, whom my movements roused from an uneasy slumber on the ground.
The “faint glimmering light” that had guided him came from a candle that provided poor illumination for a woman tending a man dying of fever. Two little girls, sobbing, sat in the darkness nearby. Kane was to discover that this was a typical scene.
Dreadful, indeed, was the suffering of these forsaken beings. Cowed and cramped by cold and sunburn, alternating as each weary day and night dragged on, they were, most of them, the crippled victims of disease. They were there because they had no homes, nor hospital nor poor-house nor friends to offer them any. They could not satisfy the feeble cravings of their sick; they had not bread to quiet … hunger cries of their children. Mothers and babes, daughters and grandparents, all of them alike, were [camped] in tatters, wanting even covering to comfort those whom the sick shiver of fever was searching to the marrow.
These were Mormons, famishing, in Lee county, Iowa, in the fourth week of the month of September, in the year of our Lord 1846. The city—it was Nauvoo, Illinois. The Mormons were the owners of that city, and the smiling country round. And those who had stopped their ploughs, who had silenced their hammers, their axes, their shuttles and their workshop wheels; those who had put out their fires, who had eaten their food, spoiled their orchards, and trampled under foot their thousands of acres of unharvested bread; were [now] the keepers of their dwellings, the carousers in their Temple, whose drunken riot insulted the ears of their dying.
The party encountered by me at the river shore were the last of the Mormons that left the city. They had all of them engaged the year before that they would vacate their homes, and seek some other place of refuge. It had been a condition of a truce between them and their assailants; and as an earnest of their good faith, the chief elders … , with their families, were to set out for the West in the Spring of 1846. It had been stipulated in return, that the rest of the Mormons might remain behind in their peaceful enjoyment of their Illinois abode, until their leaders, with their exploring party, could with all diligence select for them a new place of settlement beyond the Rocky Mountains, in California, or elsewhere, and until they had opportunity to dispose to the best advantage of the property which they were then to leave.
[But] the enemy had only waited till the emigrants were supposed to be gone on their road too far to return to interfere with them, and then renewed their aggressions [against the Saints remaining in Nauvoo].
The Joseph Smith family may have used this log cabin while adding to the Joseph Smith Homestead, their first home in Nauvoo. The cabin has been reconstructed by the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Photo by Dick Brown.
Kane said that during the truce while the Saints were still allowed to remain in Nauvoo, they worked on the temple.
Strange to say, the chief part of their respite was devoted to completing the structure of their … beautiful Temple. Since the dispersion of Jewry, probably, history affords us no parallel to the attachment of the Mormons for this edifice. Its erection had been enjoined upon them as a most sacred duty: they were proud of the honor it conferred upon their city, when it grew up in its splendour to become the chief object of the admiration of strangers upon the Upper Mississippi. Beside, they had built it as a labor of love; they could count up to a half-million [dollars] the value of their tithings and free-will offerings laid upon it. Hardly a Mormon woman had not given up to it some trinket or [money saved]: the poorest Mormon man had at least served a tenth part of his year upon its walls; … Therefore, though their enemies drove on them ruthlessly, they succeeded in parrying the last sword-thrust, till they had completed even the gilding of the angel and trumpet on the summit of its lofty spire.
The completed temple was dedicated in May 1846. With the sacred rites of consecration ended, the Saints emptied the structure of anything of value, and anything that could be desecrated by the mobs.
[The work] went on through the night; and when the morning of the next day dawned, all the ornaments and furniture, everything that could provoke a sneer, had been carried off; and except some fixtures that would not bear removal, the building was dismantled to the bare walls.
It was this day that saw the departure of the last elders, and the largest band that moved in one company together. The people of Iowa have told me, that from morning to night they [the Saints] passed westward like an endless procession. They did not seem greatly out of heart, they said; but, at the top of every hill before they disappeared, were to be seen looking back on their abandoned homes, and the far-seen Temple and its glittering spire.
Prior to his visit to Nauvoo, Kane had observed the westward-bound Saints at work and at play in the Camps of Israel. He was impressed that they were honest and sincere in their testimonies of the gospel. He expressed amazement at the sacrifices many of them made and at the love that existed in the camps in spite of the hunger and hardships the Saints suffered. In later years, he made three visits to the Saints in Utah, where he was very welcome. His last visit, in 1877, was at the death of Brigham Young to whose “masterly guidance,” he said, the Saints were indebted for their prosperity. Hours before his own death in 1883 in Pennsylvania, he asked his wife to send “The sweetest message you can make up to my Mormon friends—to all, my dear Mormon friends.”

Let me share an experience I had out in the South Pacific some years ago as an infantry soldier. This has to do, I think, with discouragement, the feeling of inadequacy at times or wonderment as to whether or not one can persevere to the end. To those of you who are not familiar with military terms, let me explain. As infantrymen out in the Pacific, we used to make what we’d call a dry run on isolated beaches. We’d take an innocent island and, with LCVPs (landing craft vehicles), make a practice assault on the beach in order to get the feel of what combat would be like. We selected an island way out in the middle of the ocean on one occasion. Our particular regiment went ashore. We were to simulate combat conditions, so I was assigned to take a patrol into the shrubs. Lo and behold, about five hundred yards inland, we came upon a very friendly native village. But a very interesting sight was noted by all of us. Every man, woman, child, and beast, including dogs and cattle, was wearing green beads with three tiny shells attached to the end. That naturally created curiosity in the infantrymen’s minds.

Later we learned from a Baptist minister who had been serving in that vicinity that the people were very religious and superstitious. The beads were to ward off evil or failure or discouragement or even the temptation of death. The people used these beads as their good luck charms. At the time, the beads recalled to my memory the days when some of us as kids carried a good luck charm or a rabbit’s foot in our pockets. Some of us back on the farm were perhaps superstitious enough to hang horseshoes on the barn door or use a hundred other symbols to keep off the evil eye of failure or accident. I remember so well a common superstition of all ball players never to step on another player’s mitt while it lay on the ground. To do so was certain to bring failure and defeat.

“In 1915 President Joseph F. Smith asked the people of the Church to have family home evening. My father said we would do so, that we would warm up the parlor where Mother’s grand piano stood and do what the President of the Church had asked.
“We were miserable performers as children. We could do all kinds of things together while playing, but for one of us to try to sing a solo before the others was like asking ice cream to stay hard on the kitchen stove. In the beginning, we would laugh and make cute remarks about one another’s performance. But our parents persisted. We sang together. We prayed together. We listened quietly while Mother read Bible and Book of Mormon stories. Father told us stories out of his memory. …
“Out of those simple little meetings, held in the parlor of our old home, came something indescribable and wonderful. Our love for our parents was strengthened. Our love for brothers and sisters was enhanced. Our love for the Lord was increased. An appreciation for simple goodness grew in our hearts. These wonderful things came about because our parents followed the counsel of the President of the Church” (“Some Lessons I Learned as a Boy,” Ensign, May 1993, 54).

In Ghana the field was also ready to harvest, due mainly to another Elias, Joseph William Billy Johnson, a preacher who obtained a Book of Mormon in 1964. He said:

"As I read the Book of Mormon I became convinced that it was really the word of God, and sometimes while reading I would burst into tears. I felt the Spirit as I read. I have a strong testimony [of] the Book of Mormon. It is a very powerful book!" Brother Johnson also knew that the Lord called him to be an Elias. He said:

Brother Johnson reported that he was strengthened and taught by dreams and visions, including instructions from the Prophet Joseph Smith and President Brigham Young. He later demonstrated his gratitude when his son was born, who today may be the only young man in Ghana named Brigham. On another occasion, when he was very discouraged his deceased brother appeared to him in a dream, and said: "Don't worry, you have chosen the only true church on earth and I am now investigating your church." I was surprised. I never knew that the church extended to another world. It was my brother who brought that knowledge to me. He said that if I didn't believe him, he would sing a song from my church, and he sang Come, Come Ye Saints. That was the first time I had heard that hymn. He said, "Don't leave the church my brother. Please see that I am baptized." Brother Johnson then noted: "It was my brother who enlightened me about baptism for the dead and brought it to my knowledge. Most of my relatives appeared to me in dreams [saying] "Reverend Johnson, do you know you have a work to do for us? Our great grandsons and daughters will be in your church soon. See that we are baptized."

"I learned these doctrines before the missionaries arrived. Nothing they taught us seemed strange. They simply confirmed what we had heard." For fourteen long years Brother Johnson helped organize ten congregations with over a thousand followers. He noted that in his dreams the Lord referred to his followers as Latter-day Saints, even though they were not yet members. Brother Johnson identified the name of the church by placing prominent signs in front of the buildings they used for worship.

Two years ago while filming Brother Johnson's story in Ghana, I walked with him through a dilapidated building that he had used twenty-five years earlier as a church meeting house. I noticed that the roof was patched with boards to keep out the rain, but my attention was drawn to one particularly colorful board. As I pointed it out to Brother Johnson, he gasped in surprise. It was part of the sign that stood in front of the building identifying the name of the church. It will be given to the Church History Museum as a treasured artifact from the pioneer period of Ghana.

One night at midnight, after many lonely years of struggle, Brother Johnson heard a short-wave news broadcast from England that announced that blacks could now receive the priesthood. He burst into tears of joy, knowing that the Church would now come to Africa. Following his baptism Brother Johnson served as Ghana's first branch president and later served several missions. Twelve years after his baptism he was ordained a patriarch.

During Mutual, we were given an assignment to become missionaries by getting a companion, sharing our testimonies with a nonmember, and giving our nonmember friend a copy of the Book of Mormon.
After Mutual, I asked my mother for some advice. She promised me that if I prayed in faith and asked Heavenly Father, He would surely answer.
It took me two weeks to find someone who would accept the Book of Mormon. At first, I was rejected again and again. I was so tired of getting hurt that I was about to give up.
One night, I had a dream about a woman who was a close friend to my family. As I dreamed, I realized that she was the one for me and my companion to visit. When I woke up, I thanked the Lord for helping me.
At the next Mutual, my companion and I wrote our testimonies on the front page of the book and made a fruit basket for the woman. We went to her house, knocked on her door, and waited. Even though I was scared that she might reject it, I told myself to have a little faith. She finally came outside with a happy face and accepted the Book of Mormon.
Through this experience, I learned that when you have a little faith and you know that Heavenly Father is there, you can easily feel that the impossible is possible.
Rapunzel L., American Samoa

Also seeing a need for masks and desiring to help, women of the Relief Society residing in the coastal town of Wonthaggi, Australia, completed 91 masks for the Carinya Nursing Home.
The masks were originally to be donated to the Carinya staff and to be given to visitors, as personal protection equipment was in short supply.
The project had already commenced when the government was able to provide enough equipment for the staff. Consequently, the masks were used as a fundraiser for the home.
Due to COVID-19 restrictions, Carinya management could not do their usual fundraising. They were very grateful to the women of the Wonthaggi Branch for their speedy sewing skills, producing masks that generated more than $500 for the aged care home.
Ourania Fielding, a church leader, commented on how the masks were made with love. “I’ll never forget…the unity we felt as we worked together to help in our local community.”

Parents and church leaders play an important part in molding our children and youth to become valiant missionaries. The things they learn will help them as they serve because
a mission is not a bed of roses. Challenges and trials are part of the missionary experience, as experienced by Brother Gym Vergel Ramos from Binmaley, Pangasinan.

Gym was 8 years old when he joined the Church in 2010 together with his entire family. He was called to the Philippines Butuan Mission and was supposed to enter the Missionary Training Center in June 2020, but it was postponed due to the lockdown. He underwent virtual MTC and was reassigned to his home mission, the Philippines Urdaneta Mission. On September 21, 2020, two days before he was supposed to report to the Urdaneta Mission home, his paternal grandfather, Fernando Ramos, passed away. His nonmember relatives could not understand why he wouldn’t postpone his mission any further to stay and grieve with the rest of their clan.

After 11 months of service in the field, he learned that his father Virgilio passed away due to Covid19. His area was a few towns away from their home, but his mother counselled him against going home, telling him to stay focused on his work as a missionary. His mission president gave the same advice, and he stayed put and continued to serve. Two months later, Elder Ramos learned that his maternal grandparents Efren and Julieta Manalo passed away one day apart. Despite all the loss, he soldiered on and gave his best as a missionary.

“Death is inevitable and the gospel is true,” says Gym Vergel, who honorably finished his mission last June 2022. “I don’t have any regrets. Heartaches are a part of life and learning. Because of the trials I experienced during my mission, I grew closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. The atonement became more meaningful and gave me strength whenever I felt sad.”

Gym also said he learned to rejoice in the promise of the resurrection. It gave him hope, not just in coping with the loss of family members but also in becoming a better person so he can be strong for his mother and siblings. The tragedy they experienced made them closer and stronger as a family.

Looking back at his mission, Gym is grateful for who he has become. He is blessed not just by the things he learned but also by the people he met. Friends who are now like family continue to help and support him as he works hard to gain an education and at the same time stay on the covenant path.

Will you pardon me if I tell you about my father? When he was about the age that I am now, he was fully retired. But he was active. He lived in a rather simple but comfortable home in a rural area. He had an orchard around him and enjoyed giving away the fruit. The yard of his home included lawns and shrubs and trees. It had a rock wall about two feet high separating one level from another. Whenever the weather was good he would sit on the wall, an old hat on his head to shade his eyes from the summer sun. When we went to visit him I would sit beside him. With a little prompting he would talk of his life—of the time when as a boy he lived in Cove Fort. He would smile as he told of the time that his brother found a loaded pistol in the telegrapher’s office. The boys began fooling around, the pistol fired, and his brother shot my father in the leg.

His father sent to Beaver for the doctor. The doctor arrived hours later and tried to remove the ball with a darning needle. He only made the pain worse. Father, sitting on his wall, would lift his pant leg, feel the flesh of his leg, and say that the ball was still there.

The family moved from Cove Fort to Fillmore, and when Father was in his late teens he came here to Provo and enrolled in the Brigham Young Academy. He was a student of Karl G. Maeser, whom he came to know well. From here he went East to school. He then came back and taught here until the First Presidency of the Church asked him to move to Salt Lake City and preside over the business college, for which the Church had great plans.

He was an educator. He was a successful businessman. He presided over the largest stake in the Church, with more than 15,000 members. He served as a mission president and in many other capacities. And now he was retired, and he sat on his wall. He was a great reader with a wonderful library. He was an excellent speaker and writer. Almost to the time he died, just short of the age of 94, he read and wrote and contemplated the knowledge that had come to him.

I discovered that when he sat on the wall, hours at a time on a warm day, he would reflect on the things he had read from his library.

I think he grew old gracefully and wonderfully. He had his books with the precious treasures they contained of the thoughts of great men and women of all the ages of time. He never ceased to learn. As he sat on the wall he thought deeply of what he had read the night before. He acquired the habit as a student here under Dr. Maeser. It was part of his BYU experience.

At times I almost envy him: time to read and time to ponder. What a blessing. He reminded me of leaves on the trees. When autumn comes with killing frost, the leaves change their color, and they give off a new beauty until they eventually drop to form a carpet on the ground.

Now, you are young, and why am I telling you of an old man and the wall on which he sat? I am telling you because I think it has a lesson for each of us. We must never cease to learn. We believe in eternal progression and that this life is a part of eternity to be profitably lived until the very end.

Hannah (name has been changed) experienced sexual abuse early in her childhood. Like other victims, she grew up feeling like she was a terrible person who had no worth. She spent most of her life trying to serve others enough to make up for her feelings of not being “good enough” for Heavenly Father or anyone else to love. In her relationships, she feared that if anyone truly knew her, they would think she was as awful as she believed she was. She experienced an intense fear of rejection that led to being afraid of trying new things in life or doing simple tasks like calling someone on the phone. She was blessed with a talent for artwork but gave up on it for fear of not being able to handle criticism.
For over 50 years her feelings of helplessness, powerlessness, fear, anger, confusion, shame, loneliness, and isolation guided her daily decisions.
For Hannah, her life had become so uncomfortable that she sought help. She knew from her testimony that she could feel peace and contentment in life but did not feel them on a consistent basis. Through prayer and talking with her bishop, she was guided to counseling, where she was able to gain the tools she needed to bring the truth out of darkness and share the awful burden she had been carrying alone. In doing so, she was able to release the pain and find the peace promised by the Savior (see John 14:27). Along with this peace and comfort came the desire and ability to forgive.
Hannah eventually found that she could turn the need for justice over to the Savior and in return find a feeling of peace in her life as she had never before experienced. Previously, she had feared attending family gatherings where the abuser would be present. Now, due to her willingness to face difficult emotional wounds on her way to healing, she no longer fears being in his presence and can even have compassion for him in his old age.

Illustration by Clayton Thompson
I sighed as I stared out the window at the freshly fallen snow, envisioning my siblings and myself building a larger-than-life snowman, laughing and tackling it to the ground moments later. But it was just wishful thinking this year—my family was not here for Christmas. My dad had to work, and my siblings, who were all older than me and married, were spending the holiday with their in-laws. It was just my mom and me that Christmas Eve.
My mom, ever the optimist, gave me an encouraging smile from across the room while she prepared our Christmas Eve dinner. Despite her efforts to make things feel normal without the rest of our family there, our house felt empty and lonely.
Shortly before dinner, a knock at our door signaled that our special guest had arrived. I opened the door to see a very shy, elderly widow hesitantly standing out in the cold. My mom had invited her over to join us for our Christmas Eve feast, and I could tell she felt as awkward as I did.
The normal clamor and jubilant conversation that usually filled the room during dinner was instead replaced by a mellow discussion. At one point, I looked around the room at the empty chairs and felt like crying. Just then the widow asked, “Do you miss your family?”
I nodded and looked into her eyes. Then I sensed it: she misses her family too!
I suddenly had an outpouring of love for this widow. She understood me. My attitude did a 180-degree turn as I realized I wasn’t alone. We shared a common bond of missing our families. This Christmas was far from normal, but sharing that moment with her brought me a new perspective—one filled with gratitude and love!
Later that evening we watched Joy to the World as part of our usual Christmas tradition. Sure, I had seen the film a dozen times, but this time it held new meaning for me. The Holy Ghost testified to me that the Savior, Jesus Christ, lived and died so that we might live again. Because of Him, I get to have my family forever. It didn’t matter so much that my family was not there that Christmas Eve—I had an eternity to spend with them!
I’m so grateful for the evening I shared with that sweet widow. We all feel lonely at times, but we can find joy knowing that our Savior will never abandon us and that He has provided a way for us to have everlasting happiness and to have our loved ones with us forever.

Robert Crookston, a young coal miner, waited eagerly for the passenger steamer to cross the Firth of Forth into Dysart harbour on a beautiful spring morning in 1841. He had walked from his home in Wemyss to meet a special friend: George Darling Watt, a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Robert’s local minister had been unable to satisfy his honest questions on religion so when his aunt and cousin in Edinburgh wrote to invite Robert to hear their minister, he readily accepted. He was thrilled by the preaching of Elder Watt and said, “I believed every word of it [...] I was converted on the spot and went the same night and was baptised in Duddingston Loch.”
Robert felt the sacredness of the occasion as Brother Watt disembarked. He said, “When he took my hand I felt that he was the only man that held the Priesthood on the north side of the Firth. [...] I rented a large hall for him to preach in and the people flocked to hear the gospel and nearly twenty were baptised then.”

While serving as bishop of a BYU singles ward, I knew one young man in the ward who supported everything we sponsored. He came to every family home evening, every activity, every dance, every service project. Anything the ward sponsored, he was there. The reason I bring this up is because he didn’t actually need the activities for himself. He had a serious girlfriend in another ward and was soon to be engaged, but still he came. I asked him why he came to all the ward social functions. He humbly replied, “I feel like if I attend, perhaps I can contribute to the success of the event. Maybe I can help someone feel welcome, maybe I can add to the fun. I just think it’s another great opportunity to serve.” In other words, he didn’t attend to see what was in it for him but rather what he could contribute to others.

At one time the Lord said that He was “well pleased” with Joseph Wakefield. He was stalwart and faithful and taught hundreds about the prophetic work of Joseph Smith. But from 1833 to 1834 he was influenced by some dissidents in Kirtland. He was once in the home of Joseph Smith. Joseph came out of the room where he had been translating the word of God and immediately began to play with some children. “This convinced [Brother Wakefield] that [Joseph] was not a man of God and that [therefore] the work was false.” In due course, Joseph Wakefield apostatized, was excommunicated, and became a persecutor of the Church and of the Saints.

I spent a semester in Mexico during my senior year of high school. Weekdays found me studying hard at a university in Guadalajara. Weekends found me touring the Yucatán, San Miguel de Allende, Puerto Vallarta, and Mazatlán. One day I was on my own exploring a huge park in Mexico City. I was thoroughly enjoying the sights and sounds--and the feeling of maturity at being alone in a foreign country. With my rudimentary Spanish skills, I stopped at a cart where a man was selling soft drinks and bought an icy-cold glass bottle of Fanta Orange. I thanked the man, turned, and strolled off.
After about 30 seconds, I became aware that someone was making a hissing noise at me. Hiss. Teasing American tourists is a common game, so I ignored the pest. I kept my eyes straight ahead and pretended that I hadn't heard. The hiss got louder, so I knew the person was following me. I walked a little faster. So did the hiss. In fact, I quickly realized that, if I didn't break into a run, the hiss would soon be upon me. Finally, summoning my courage, I took a deep breath and turned to confront my pursuer. It was the Fanta man; he wanted his bottle back. I was supposed to have drunk the Fanta at his cart--and he had been chasing me for several blocks. You see, the hiss is a way of calling attention in Mexico, much like the whistle is in the United States. But I hadn't known that, so I didn't respond the way I should have done.

ELDER BENNETT: As we relate this next experience, watch how following God's prophets, helped us establish priorities that would bless our lives forever.
After my best friend finally agreed to marry me, we bought an inexpensive engagement ring. But I felt unsettled—not about marrying but about what we had learned at a recent general conference. Several of the talks had reinforced the principles of self-reliance and preparedness. To obey the prophetic counsel, we needed to start acquiring a supply of food for emergencies. But we were both students—with very little money.
One day shortly after we got engaged, I felt prompted to sell the ring.... What? How was I supposed to ask Shelley to do that? I had justconvinced her to accept the ring. How would she feel about selling her ring to buy dried milk, wheat, and salt?
SISTER BENNETT: He didn't know it, but I had also felt impressed to sell the ring. What would he think if I suggested it? I'd already said no three times, followed by an "I'll think about it!"
But the prompting was unmistakable, so I brought it up a few days later. We were both surprised and relieved that we had felt the same impression. Miraculously, the jeweler's heart was softened, and he gave us a full refund for the ring. We then used the money to purchase our food storage.
To replace my ring, he made me a leather band that I wore for some time. It became a symbol of our decision to always follow the prophet and the promptings of the Holy Ghost.
Now, my dear sisters, you don't need to leave here and sell your rings! Buying or wearing a ring isn't wrong. For us, however, because the Spirit had directed us to follow the prophet by selling my engagement ring, our choice was between keeping a ring or following the prophet. Making this decision helped us establish two patterns in our home from the very beginning: following the prophets and following the promptings of the Holy Spirit.
We learned to follow the apostles and prophets and not to worry about what others might think. By acting immediately and cheerfully on their invitations and counsel, we have always been blessed. Shortly after graduating from dental school and with two children, we ran completely out of money. Gratefully, we were able to live on the food storage we had purchased.