Gospel Story Finder

Carrie’s older brother tugged one of her thick blond braids. “Hey, Freckles, you ought to have the sheepshearers do you too.”
“Yeah,” chimed in her twin brother, “you have more wool than old Tim Buck.”
Nine-year-old Carrie made a face at her brothers. All three children were perched on top of the strawstack at the far end of the sheep shed. Sheep, waiting to be sheared, milled about below them, blatting nervously. The shearing clippers buzzed, and men shouted orders as they threw the fleeces up into the wool bag.
Tim Buck, the huge lead ram, seemed to be the only calm one amid the confusion. He was penned apart and was munching on hay. Whenever he shook off flies, the large bell around his neck jingled.
“Carrie Helen!” shouted her dad. “Carrie Helen Shultz, please come here.”
Always anxious to please her father, she hollered back, “Coming—on the double!” Scooting off the strawstack, she ran to meet her dad.
“Carrie, I need you to go with Tim Buck to lead the sheep we’ve already sheared over to the south pasture. There are about a hundred ewes or so, plus the lambs. We have to make room for the next ones.”
“Yes, sir,” she answered, grinning up at her brothers and throwing her shoulders back proudly.
Dad fastened one end of a stout rope to the lead sheep’s collar and handed the other end to Carrie. “OK, Carrie, Tim Buck’s ready. Remember what his job is.”
Without hesitating, Tim Buck started out of the holding pen. Once an orphan lamb, he showed no fear of Carrie and looked up at her with soft brown eyes, eyes filled with warmth and wisdom.
Confident of her own importance and of Tim Buck’s love, Carrie stepped out in front of the old sheep. She walked through the noisy ewes, which responded immediately to the sound of the lead sheep’s bell. As they followed Carrie and Tim Buck out of the corral gate, she felt their excitement as they rushed forward. They seemed to know that they were free now to go to the south pasture. Sensing their anticipation, and sure of her responsibility, Carrie tugged at the rope fastened to the sheep’s collar, pulling him toward the narrow bridge and her favorite shortcut to the south pasture.
But Tim Buck resisted Carrie’s tugging and headed toward the hill and the longer, usual route. Again Carrie pulled at the rope, trying to head the old sheep toward the bridge. Again Tim Buck resisted.
“Oh, why can’t you do it my way!” Carrie stamped her foot impatiently as Tim Buck firmly planted his feet, refusing to move. Though she pulled hard, her sixty pounds were no match against the weight of the huge sheep. When her arms began to tire, Carrie glared at Tim Buck and grouched, “All right! I’ll do it your way this time. Come on. Let’s go up that long hill. At least we can cut across the hayfield and not have to take the long road around it.”
The ewes, confused at the delay, had begun to push forward, baaing worriedly. As Tim Buck moved forward, his bell started jingling, and the sheep quieted. When Carrie, walking a couple feet in front, quickened her step, Tim Buck quickened his. The hungry ewes also increased their pace. Out of breath, Carrie rushed to the top of the hill. “Now’s my chance,” she said, pulling tightly on Tim Buck’s rope, forcing his head toward the hayfield.
Tim Buck butted Carrie gently, loosening her grip. Then he moved toward the well-used road.
“Why, you ornery critter! Can’t you see how much easier it would be to cut across that field instead of going around it!” She yanked at the rope, trying to drag Tim Buck toward the hayfield. He looked at her questioningly, then shook his head forcefully. The bell jangled, and the ewes pressed forward as Tim Buck pulled away from the hayfield and moved quickly onto the familiar road. The rope started to slip through Carrie’s hands, but she held on tightly.
Half running, Carrie tried to get ahead of Tim Buck. But he only walked faster. The more she tried, the faster he went, and the faster he went, the faster came the ewes and lambs. Soon Carrie was sandwiched between Tim Buck and the rushing sheep, and the rope was slipping out of her grasp. She clutched it desperately, even though it was burning her fingers.
Familiar with the road and quickened by hunger, the sheep hurried toward the open gate to the south pasture, where Tim Buck saw his own shortcut! He swerved suddenly from the road and down a steep slope. The sudden movement sent Carrie sprawling, and the rope was jerked out of her hands. The sheep quickly moved away from her and down the slope, following Tim Buck through the open pasture gate.
Carrie lay bewildered, hurt, and defeated. Sobbing, she struggled to her feet. With skinned knees and stinging hands, she stumbled back toward the sheep shed. With each step, she imagined her brothers’ teasing and her father’s disappointment.
Her dad met her in his truck before Carrie reached the shed. Stopping his truck, he got out and hurried over to her. Then, tilting her tear-stained face up for him to see, and putting one hand on her shoulder, he said, “It looks like you’ve had some troubles, honey.” He looked at her intently, but his voice was gentle and matter-of-fact. Seeing Carrie’s ropeburned hands, he dampened his bandanna in some clean water and gently patted them while she blurted out her story.
“So you wanted the sheep to take the shorter path across the bridge?” her father said when she had finished.
“It would have been much faster.”
“Do you think that all those sheep could have safely crossed that narrow bridge together?”
“Well,” Carrie hesitated. “I—I guess not. But they would have had plenty of room to cross the hayfield.”
“But, Carrie, do you remember how sick the sheep get when they eat too much hay? Do you know that most sheep can’t stop eating fresh hay once they get started?”
“Oh, Dad, I’m sorry,” Carrie sobbed.
“You’re lucky, Carrie, that Tim Buck wouldn’t allow the sheep to take a dangerous path.”
“Yeah, he’s really stubborn,” Carrie said, starting to fume again.
“Perhaps he’s not as stubborn as he is committed to doing what he knows is right. Remember, Carrie, that he’s the lead sheep. He guides the others in the paths that will get them safely to where they want to go, just as Mom and I try to lead you along the right pathways so that you can return to live with Heavenly Father.
Dad and Carrie got into the truck and he looked at her hands again to make sure that they weren’t seriously hurt. Then he drove toward the south pasture and stopped. Carrie was surprised when he got out of the truck and lifted her out too.
“All right, Carrie Helen. Now that you know why Tim Buck behaves as he does, do you think that you can take him back to get another bunch of sheep?”
“Yes, Dad. And this time I’ll let him lead the way.”

A few years ago, Sister Joyce Audrey Evans, a young mother in Belfast, Northern Ireland, was having trouble with a pregnancy. She went to the hospital, where one of the nurses told her she would probably lose the baby. Sister Evans replied: “But I can’t give up. … You have to give me hope.” Sister Evans later recalled: “I couldn’t give up hope until all reason for hope was gone. It was something I owed to my unborn child.”

Three days later she had a miscarriage. She wrote: “For one long moment, I felt nothing. Then a profound feeling of peace flowed through me. With the peace came understanding. I knew now why I couldn’t give up hope in spite of all the circumstances: you either live in hope or you live in despair. Without hope, you cannot endure to the end. I had looked for an answer to prayers and was not disappointed; I was healed in body and rewarded with a spirit of peace. Never before had I felt so close to my Heavenly Father; never before had I felt such peace. …

“The miracle of peace was not the only blessing to come from this experience. Some weeks later, I fell to thinking about the child I had lost. The Spirit brought to my mind the words from Genesis 4:25 [Gen. 4:25]: ‘And she bare a son, and called his name Seth: For God, said she, hath appointed me another seed. …’

“A few months later, I became pregnant again. When my son was born, he was declared to be ‘perfect.’” He was named Evan Seth.

Timothy Wood had a fun time serving at the dance. He made sure that everyone was having a great time, and even led a large group in a “train,” where everyone lined up behind each other and snaked through the gym. Timothy says that serving is acting as Christ would and that doing so has built his testimony. “I act better when I’m here,” he says. “I’m calmer, more patient, and I think of others’ needs before mine. It helps me to be more like Christ would have me be.”
Timothy says that on some nights at special-needs Mutual, when he’s waiting for his friend, Stephen, to arrive, he’ll remember something he needs to get for the activity. But Timothy will wait for Stephen to arrive because he wants him to feel welcome when he gets there. “Being a volunteer helps me to care more for others,” Timothy says.

I shall now call attention to some circumstances in which this matter of integrity is involved. Here is an account that you bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood might think about:
“Four Latter-day Saint boys set out from a Utah city on a cross-country trip. They had saved all their money during the last year of high school for this purpose, and now that graduation was over, they packed their suitcases into the trunk of their car and said good-byes to worrying parents and envious friends. It was a matter of considerable celebration when they crossed the Utah State line and entered into another state. They pulled up alongside the highway and got out to see how it felt to be in new surroundings. A certain thrill of excitement was noted by each of the young travelers and a sense of adventure led them to great speculation.
“They had agreed to send their parents a postcard every other day to indicate their whereabouts, and had promised to send a collect telegram if they ran into any trouble. One of the boys commented that it felt real good to be on his own and not be under the necessity of getting advance approval from someone for every move he made. Another suggested that they must act like seasoned travelers and not impress others as country boys on their first junket away from home. As a follow-up, this same boy proposed to his friends that they forget all about being Mormons for the duration of their adventure. Asked why by the other three puzzled boys, he said that they could now afford to ‘let their hair down’ and sample some of the excitement enjoyed by other people, not of the Mormon Church. ‘Anyway,’ he argued, ‘what difference will it make? Nobody out here in the world knows us or cares anything about our church connections.’
“The thrill of the new experience weighted their judgment, and the group made an agreement to give it a try. They decided to announce themselves to the world as students from the East who had been to school in Utah for a short time. Their Utah license plates made this necessary.
“Nightfall on the first day of the journey found them at a famous tourist attraction spot, and they made arrangements for camping near the resort. After the evening meal they gathered at the large hotel for the night’s entertainment. No sooner had they arrived when the ringleader of the boys suggested that they begin here and now sampling the things they had so long been denied by strict parents and teachers. The first thing that caught their eyes was a large neon sign at the far end of the lounge. It read, ‘Bar—beer, cocktails.’ Thinking it a moderate nod in the direction of ‘sinning just a little bit,’ they agreed to go into the bar and order a glass of beer for each one. There was a nervous air about them as they entered the gaudily lighted bar and surveyed the counters loaded with intriguing bottles of liquor. The boy who had been delegated to give the order lost his voice on the first try and had to swallow hard to get out an understandable, ‘Four glasses of beer, please.’
“What the beer lacked in palatability, the atmosphere and thrill more than made up. They grew bolder and began to talk of the next adventure they would undertake. The talk was growing racy when suddenly a well-dressed man entered the bar and walked straight toward their table. The look on the stranger’s face and the determined pace at which he walked toward them left the boys completely unnerved.
“When the man reached the table at which the boys were sitting, he extended his hand to one of them and said, ‘I beg your pardon, but aren’t you George Redford’s son from Utah?’ The boy was speechless and terrified. His fingers froze around the base of the glass of beer and he answered in a wavering voice, ‘Why, yes, sir, I am.’ ‘I thought I recognized you when you came in the lobby of the hotel,’ the stranger continued. ‘I am Henry Paulsen, vice-president of the company your dad works for, and I met you and your mother last winter at a company dinner at the Hotel Utah. I have never forgotten how you explained your Mormon priesthood to one of the other executives of our company who asked you what it meant to be a Mormon boy. I must say I was a little surprised to see you head for the bar, but I suppose that with Mormons as well as non-Mormons, boys will be boys when they’re off the roost.’
“These boys had heard a sermon they would never hear duplicated in the pulpit. They were sick, ashamed, and crestfallen. As they left their half-filled glasses and walked out through the hotel lobby, they had the feeling that everyone was looking at them. The cover of darkness was kind as they made their way to their camp. ‘You just can’t win,’ said the boy who had proposed their dropping their true identity, trying to ease the tension. ‘I’m not so sure,’ replied the boy to who the stranger had spoken. ‘If we have any sense left, we can make this experience into the most winning lesson of our lives.’”

The eight children younger than I were adopted. My older sister and I are the only natural children of our parents. Each time we adopted another one, dad would send us to the bishop to get temple recommends. Just recently, the last child was sealed to our family. Now, after my dad says family prayer or holds family counsel, I think of how long it has taken us to progress this far and how much more we must do to gain the celestial kingdom.

Shortly before my disciplinary council, I listened to general conference for the first time. At one point President Howard W. Hunter said: “To those who have transgressed or been offended, we say, come back. The path of repentance, though hard at times, lifts one ever upward and leads to a perfect forgiveness” (Ensign, November 1994, 8). I felt like he was talking directly to me. I thought to myself, I am coming back. I promise. I have a special love for President Hunter because he was the first prophet I ever really listened to.

Photographs by Richard M. Romney
For a time, Leonard Singer lived in desperate circumstances. Today he serves as first counselor in a branch presidency. In this interview with David Olsen, a Church-service missionary who serves as his branch president, Leonard shares his story.
Leonard: I had become an alcoholic. I didn’t have a home. I wore the same clothes day in and day out. I slept in the bushes and ate out of trash cans. I didn’t have anything or anybody.
Elder Olsen: How did you change?
Leonard: I decided to pray. I asked the Lord for help, and somehow I found the strength to stop drinking. I kept thinking about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I had felt at home there before. I thought I might find hope there again.
Elder Olsen: You’ve told me you started feeling urges.
Leonard: Yes, the Lord brought me along, and when I followed Him, He started blessing me.
Elder Olsen: How did local Church leaders help you?
Leonard: I had been excommunicated, but they helped me understand what I needed to do, and to do what I needed to do in order to come back to full fellowship. Little by little, I made my way there. The day I was rebaptized was the happiest day of my life.
Elder Olsen: Today you live just down the hill from our chapel [the Dennehotso Branch meetinghouse in Kayenta, Arizona, USA]. Your home is a small trailer, with no electricity and no running water, but you say you consider yourself fortunate?
Leonard: The Lord takes care of my needs. He has blessed me with this home and everything in it. I love having a quiet place where I can study the scriptures and pray. My sister lives nearby, and that’s where I get water. Sometimes when I need electricity, she lets me run an extension cord over from her house.
Elder Olsen: How else has the gospel blessed you?
Leonard: The Lord showed me there is meaning in this life. That’s something I had been missing for years. Now I want to help other people, just as He has helped me.
Elder Olsen: I see you helping people all the time. The other day, you helped a woman whose car got stuck in the sand.
Leonard: I just got a couple of other Church members and a couple of shovels. We started digging and pushing. Pretty soon she was on her way again.
Elder Olsen: What about that time you kept feeling an urge to visit your niece, who lives miles away in Farmington, New Mexico?
Leonard: I wasn’t sure why I was supposed to go, but I knew the Lord wanted me there.
Elder Olsen: So, you acted on the prompting, you found a way to get there, and you arrived just in time to give her some urgently needed assistance.
Leonard: The Lord knew she needed help, and He knew I could help her.
Elder Olsen: In your calling in the branch presidency, you help me with ministering assignments, meetings, branch activities, and the Church’s addiction recovery program. What would you say if someone asked you, “How do you love your neighbor?”
Leonard: With all my heart.
Elder Olsen: How do you show that love?
Leonard: I just give back to them what the Lord has given to me. People need to feel loved. They need to feel comforted. They need guidance. They need to understand what the Lord can give them. When you’re at the bottom of the pit, you need to feel that if you reach out, someone will be there.
Elder Olsen: You live in a little trailer, but your heart is as big as the great outdoors. You live humbly, without worldly possessions. But you are Christlike, always helping those in need.
Leonard: That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To help each other.

It’s hard to believe it was only 120 years ago when Wilbur and Orville Wright first lifted off and flew over the sands of Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. Four short flights on that December day changed the world and opened the door to one of the greatest inventions in the world’s history.
Flying was risky in those early days. The brothers knew this. And so did their father, Milton. In fact, he was so terrified of losing both of his sons in a flying accident that they promised him they would never fly together.
And they never did—with one exception. Seven years after that historic day at Kitty Hawk, Milton Wright finally gave his consent and watched as Wilbur and Orville flew together for the first time. After landing, Orville convinced his father to take his first and only flight and to see for himself what it was like.
As the plane lifted from the ground, the 82-year-old Milton got so caught up in the exhilaration of flight that all fear left him. Orville rejoiced as his father shouted with delight, “Higher, Orville, higher!”
This was a man after my own heart!

Heeding the prophet’s call at age 19, I prepared myself to serve a full-time mission. Soon, I received a call to the Mexico Hermosillo Mission.
While I was waiting to enter the missionary training center in Mexico City, I became concerned about how I would share the gospel. I wondered, “What should I do to prepare?”
One morning before leaving for work, I put a new copy of the Book of Mormon in my bag. Then I prayed, “Heavenly Father, help me know how to give this Book of Mormon to whomever Thou dost send to me.” Then I left for work.
After work, I went to the institute of religion. By then, I had forgotten about the book in my bag. When I got on the bus to return home, however, I sat next to a young woman who was reading the Bible.
I felt a strong impression that said, “This is the person.” I doubted the impression at first, but then I felt it again.
“Pardon me,” I said as I pulled out my Book of Mormon, “this book is very special to me, and I would like to give it to you.”
With a look of contempt, she responded, “No, thanks.” Pointing to her Bible, she added, “This book is enough for me.” Then she stood up and left, leaving me alone on my row of seats.
As I sat there for a minute feeling rejected and foolish, wondering about my impression, the woman in front of me turned around and said, “Excuse me, do you still want to give away that book?”
Apparently, she and her husband had overheard my conversation with the young woman.
“Of course!” I replied.
As we talked, l learned that the couple had wanted to read the Book of Mormon. They also wanted to learn about the Church. I was excited to answer their questions.
That day I learned for myself that “the field is white already to harvest” and that “if [we] have desires to serve God [we] are called to the work” (Doctrine and Covenants 6:3; 4:3).
God had made me an instrument in His hands after all. Today, doing missionary work is the most cherished thing in my life.

When the typical teenager makes a “to do” list, it often includes homework, classes, Church activities, and a social life. But what if you added practices and games for three sports into the picture? Then it would be completely full, right? No room for service or volunteer work?
You won’t convince Blake Moore, a priest in the Forest Green Ward of the Utah Ogden Weber Heights Stake. Blake has received national recognition for his athletic skills, but he still feels service is a top priority. In fact, his dedication to service helped him to receive his latest honor, the High School Heisman Award.
In the United States, the Heisman Award is given to the best collegiate football player each year. A few years ago, a similar award was started for high school athletes. But the selection committee wasn’t just after the best football player. They were looking for a well-rounded person—someone who did well at school and was involved in his or her community. They found what they were looking for in Blake.
How does he fit it all into his busy schedule?
“You have time for what you make time for,” he says. “I don’t get it when people say they don’t have time for things. Everyone has the same number of hours in the day.”
Much of Blake’s service began through the Scouting program. In fact, for Blake’s Eagle project he organized a book drive for St. Ann’s homeless shelter and focused mainly on gathering children’s books.
But Blake’s service doesn’t end with his Eagle project. He is the area chairman for the American Cancer Society. He collects cash donations from people living in his Ogden neighborhood to be used for research and publicity. He is also the youth representative on the Utah state committee for the March of Dimes. He volunteers at a homeless shelter and a local hospital, and he also contributes his time and muscle to Habitat for Humanity.
Athletically, Blake has done it all. He is the captain of the football, basketball, and baseball teams. He also carries a 4.0 grade point average and is the senior class president.
Trying to get Blake to talk about his successes is like pulling teeth. But he finally admits that he has tried to be a well-rounded person—not just a student or an athlete. One thing he does emphasize is that it is “cool” to serve. “I want others to know that it is not nerdy to do service,” Blake says. “How could it be? Service is the best thing to do.”
Blake points out his flaws as if he is uncomfortable with all the recognition of his strengths, but he is not hesitant telling about the role his family has played in his life, where he is the youngest of five children. “The examples I’ve had in my life have really helped me. I learned from my brothers and sisters how to handle situations and leadership responsibilities. They’ve given me a lot of guidance.”
Two of his siblings are currently serving missions. “My brothers and sisters are my heroes. I owe so much to my family.”
The Moores believe this award is more than just honoring Blake. “We really feel that the Lord had a hand in it,” Blake’s mom, Leslie, said. “We hope this will further His work as kids see a good, moral person being honored.”
“Many kids that get this much attention would be ruined by it,” said Blake’s dad, David. “But Blake is the same person in all aspects of his life, on and off the field, in and out of the spotlight.”
Blake sincerely loves others, especially children. “I think it’s because I never had little brothers or sisters,” he says. “I really like getting to know the neighbor kids. I can see that they really look up to me. Children look up to athletes for role models, whether the athletes deserve it or not.”
The two national winners of the High School Heisman, one young man and one young woman, were selected based on three areas: athletics, academics, and community service.
Blake plans to attend a university for one year before serving a mission. “When I get back from my mission, I’ll have to decide how far to go with sports. I’ll pray about that decision.” Blake plans to use his love for people and his academic talents to be a pediatrician.
But no matter what the future holds, Blake will always make time to help others. “Nothing feels better,” he says smiling, “not even playing sports.”

Ouch! Have you ever been caught by a jumping cactus? Cholla cactus segments “jump” off to stick to your clothes, skin, or whatever else they can get their spiny claws into.
The LDS youth of New Mexico know how difficult it is to detach themselves from a prickly cactus. They got some extra practice though, as they cleaned the temple site in preparation for the Albuquerque Temple groundbreaking. Armed with shovels, rakes, and gloves, youth from four stakes assembled on a hot Saturday morning to rid the property of sagebrush, garbage, and cholla, so the weeds could be mowed and the ground would be safe to walk on for those attending the groundbreaking.
“It was hard work, but it was totally worth it for the temple to come,” says Robyn Sampson, 15.
Before the temple plans were approved, the youth fasted and prayed for a solution to the problems the temple’s project manager faced when he presented the plans to city officials. Now they say they are fasting and praying for the temple builders. But the prayers and the cleanup are only part of the work the young people of Albuquerque are doing in preparation for the temple. They are also working to make certain their own lives are clean.
Despite the burrs on their socks and an occasional scare from a snake or lizard, the Albuquerque youth succeeded in clearing the future temple site of every spiny cactus and broken bottle in sight. It might seem strange, but the youth actually enjoyed pulling cactuses and loading trucks full of sagebrush.
“We’re just so happy we will have a temple here. We thought it would never happen,” says Rosalie Campbell, 12.
Amber Chee, 17, looks forward to doing baptisms for the dead and getting married in the Albuquerque Temple someday. “It was really fun coming here. I felt the Spirit,” she says.
Both Rosalie and Amber have been to the temple to do baptisms for the dead before, but opportunities for trips to out-of-state temples come only once a year for the Albuquerque youth. They have to travel for at least eight hours to get to a temple in Denver, Colorado, or Mesa, Arizona, so they can do baptisms for the dead.
“Temples were always a faraway thing,” says Neil Peterson. As 16-year-old Neil wipes his brow, he says he enjoys helping out with something so important, even if it’s hard work.
Michelle Williams, besides concentrating on the cactus plants, was also thinking about what it will mean to have a temple in her area and about why she was cleaning up the temple site. “It’s very symbolic,” she says. “You have to be clean yourself to go to the temple.”
Logan King just turned in his mission papers and is waiting for his call. He won’t be able to go to the Albuquerque Temple before his mission, but he realizes the importance of having a temple close by and being worthy to attend it. “We need to clean all the cactuses out of our lives before we can go to the temple,” he says.
Researching family history is another way the Albuquerque youth are preparing for the temple. Many of them are more excited about doing family history now since they will soon have a temple in their area. Albuquerque’s Family History Center missionaries, Sister Wilcox and Sister Hatfield, say the temple will really strengthen the youth. Sister Wilcox says with the large number of young people in the area, there’s a “big push for genealogy.”
Sarah Sego, 17, loves doing baptisms for the dead and can’t wait for the temple to be built so she can continue to do baptisms. “I know it’s the right thing to do, because all those people are waiting,” she says.
Sarah is also helping others to learn more about why she loves going to the temple so much. She tells her friends about the temple and even tactfully shared her testimony of temple work with her high school current events class.
Sarah is not alone in her missionary efforts. Many Church members are having more and more opportunities to explain the gospel to others because of the temple.
“I think the temple will make people notice us more,” says Lisa Willis, 14, who also says she’s been telling her friends all about the temple. “The best part [of building a temple] is having people ask about it.”
Albuquerque’s full-time missionaries were also at the cleanup working hard. They say members in the area feel the temple will bring many blessings to them and to all the people of Albuquerque.
“While tracting, we stopped by a house and a woman opened the door and said, ‘Hey, I heard you guys are building one of those temples.’ That allowed us to get in the door and talk to her about the Church,” says Elder Moyer, from California. Many of the missionaries had similar stories.
The temple will actually be built in a valley where it can still be seen from faraway. In fact, it’s the same valley the Mormon Battalion came through on its famous march from the Missouri River to California. Coincidentally, the number of youth at the cleanup was about the same as the number of men who were in the Mormon Battalion.
At the groundbreaking ceremony, many young people who had been at the cleanup also sang in the youth chorus. The strains of “High on the Mountain Top” and “Holy Temples on Mount Zion” rang out over the crowd of thousands which gathered to see the temple ground dedicated.
“We all joined together to celebrate our temple,” says Tyler Lindsey, 16. “I knew that it was right and the ground was holy. I don’t know if we sounded good, but the Spirit was there.”
The Spirit is there. The spirit of service, of missionary work, and of love can be felt strongly in Albuquerque. Whether pulling cactuses or doing baptisms for the dead, the youth of Albuquerque are carrying out the Lord’s work with His Spirit to help them. The youth don’t know all the ways the temple will continue to change their lives, but they are looking forward to that day in the year 2000 when they can visit the Lord’s house in their own city.

Now to the second lesson. Remember! The iron rod brings safe passage through the wilderness. Grasp it! Once again, as I wander the corridors of memory, another wilderness experience from my Ranger training days emerges. Three weeks of the training were conducted in the Blue Ridge Mountains of north Georgia-also a wilderness, by the way! In addition to honing our patrolling and combat skills at the Mountain Ranger Camp, we learned to scale steep cliffs and then to rappel down them. The mountain phase of my training occurred in the winter. Snow was on the ground and slick black ice covered much of the face of these cliffs we were ascending and descending. It was treacherous, and some Rangers fell and were seriously hurt.

Each of us chose a "Ranger buddy"-another Ranger with whom we went through the training. One day, my Ranger buddy and I were ordered to scale a steep cliff in a "two-man party climb." In a two-man party climb, one man climbs while the other "belays" for him with a safety line. Then the first man belays while his partner climbs past him to a further place up the cliff, and so on as the team leapfrogs its way to the top.

So, naturally, on this fateful day we searched along the base of the cliff for what looked like the easiest way up. We found a spot where the cliff did not appear to be nearly as steep. For the first 25 feet or so it was only about a 45-degree angle. While we couldn't see beyond that point, it still looked like the easiest way up the cliff.

My buddy went first while I belayed for him. Climbing up the 45-degree slope, he disappeared around a corner of the rock wall. Finally, a tug on the rope was my signal to climb up to his location and then past him. When I reached his location and looked up, I was stunned to see that, from where we were, the wall shot straight up into the air and then curved back overhead in a rocky overhang. It was now my task to scale the sheer face of the wall and then to somehow climb up that overhang using rope stirrups that I fastened into the wall with steel pitons, or rock-climbing nails.

I still have vivid memories of dangling from that rocky overhang with one foot in a rope stirrup, looking down from the dizzying height of 100 feet at the ground below, while I attempted to fix another rope stirrup further up the rock face. Exhausted, I finally made it over the edge of the cliff at the top and assisted my partner as he climbed up to where I was.

This cliff-climbing experience has become something of a parable in my life about the foolishness of trying to find the easy way out of things.

Mike and Lynn are a young married couple with two young children. They especially wanted to share this day with their children and make it special for the whole family. Their entire family worked hard that day to be nicer to each other. They spent the day in the canyons learning about each other and our Father in heaven. As Mike said, “You cannot have a perfect day and not improve your family life. It was wonderful.”
Lynn shared another experience that had happened to her. “Early that morning I arose and decided to fix a good breakfast. I started making pancakes first. I was whipping up the pancakes with a wire whip a little too vigorously, I guess, because suddenly the batter splattered all over everything—the cupboards, the floor, me. Then I looked down at my son and his face had dozens of tiny pancake batter specks on it, and his eyes were big as saucers. When I looked at him, I began to laugh. Usually I would have become very irritated in that kind of a situation.
“And just after breakfast, I received a call from my mother asking if I could give my sister a ride to work that morning. I bundled up the kids, warmed up the car, and drove out to mother’s. By the time I got there my sister had found another ride to work. Again I was able to accept the situation instead of becoming angry or disgusted.
“As I was driving home from Mother’s I began to cry. My son asked what the matter was, and all I could say was, ‘We are going to have a perfect day.’

When I began my service mission, it was hard for me to feel like a missionary. It felt like I was just coming home from college for the summer.
I was glad I didn’t have to leave my friends and family, but at the same time, I craved to feel the spiritual retreat that I imagined teaching missionaries experience when they leave home. I decided I needed to turn my home into a spiritual safe haven.
And I’ve learned it is possible to invite the Spirit into the place you call home, regardless of your circumstances!
The following are ideas that helped me turn my home into a holy place that allowed me to feel connected to the Savior.
At the start of my mission, I spent time in prayer seeking the gift of discernment. I had impressions about what was lessening my ability to feel like a missionary.
I prayed to know if my hobbies were appropriate mission activities. When my answer was yes, my activities felt consecrated to Him. The simple act of involving God made my home a sanctuary of faith for me.
In creating my sacred space, I put away my action-packed novels that distracted me. You may find that novels don’t detract from the Spirit you feel, but in my circumstances, I knew God wanted me to spend my time on uplifting and talent-building things. So I placed my scriptures on my desk to prioritize scripture study, and I set aside time every day for writing.
Heavenly Father’s goal is to prepare us to live with Him some day. He wants us to feel comfortable in His presence. I have felt more spiritual as He has helped me make one little change in my environment at a time.

Anela (14), Chiyo (11), and Daniel (10) from the Philippines have a brother, Bien (12), who has cerebral palsy. They see him as a unique person with his own strengths. They wish others would get to know Bien the way they do.

“Where we live, there’s a steep hill that my siblings and I call a ‘mountain,’” Anela says. “We enjoy riding our bikes up the hill and racing back down. Bien has a hard time going up, so we help him. Sometimes people stare at him. It bothers me when that happens. But Bien doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles and waves at them as we pass by.

“I wish people would know when they see Bien that he’s friendly and enjoys being around other people. He’s shy at first, but he’s a lot of fun once he feels comfortable. He can’t do what able-bodied people can do, but he loves to learn. I’ve learned from Bien that we shouldn’t worry so much about what everyone else thinks about us, and we should treat everyone with kindness.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to be patient with David, especially when he won’t listen,” Lucy says. “Sometimes he can’t help it, so I don’t want to get too mad at him, but I also want to make sure he learns and understands. It’s important to find balance. It helps me know how to help my brother.”

Chiyo has found that patience helps Bien learn. “I help teach my brother the alphabet, colors, numbers, and animals,” Chiyo says. “Sometimes he has a hard time identifying animals. I keep working with him, and after a while, I noticed he’s improved. I’ll name an animal, he’ll point to a photo, and he gets some of them right! Bien’s example teaches me that it takes time to learn new things and it can be hard, but if you have patience and keep practicing, you will eventually get it right.”

“I love that my family thinks about my brother before we do an activity so he can have a good time too,” Anela says. “We also include Bien in helping around the house,” Chiyo says. “He can fold some of his clothes and sweep the floor.”

Lucy has also seen how teachers and friends at church make David feel welcome. “It’s nice to see people try and learn about David’s interests,” Lucy says. “Right now, he really loves Star Wars, so ward members will ask him about it. They know it’s something he’ll be willing to talk about. One of his teachers tries to incorporate what David likes into the lessons in some way. This helps him pay more attention in class.”

Someone may look different, act different, or have different abilities, but we all belong. There are many ways to help everyone feel included and important. The more we strive to do so, the more we will all learn and grow.

We all belong.
Christ and the Palsied Man, by J. Kirk Richards

As Heber J. Grant matured, his faith in God also matured. When his first wife, Lucy Stringham Grant, lay critically ill, he called his children into her hospital room and told them she was going to die. His daughter Lutie pleaded with him to exercise his priesthood in her mother’s behalf and not let her die. When the children left the room, Elder Grant knelt by his wife’s bed. Of that prayer, he later said:
“I told the Lord, I acknowledged his hand in life and in death, in joy or in sorrow, in prosperity or adversity. I did not complain because my wife was dying, but that I lacked the strength to see my wife die and have her death affect the faith of my children in the ordinances of the gospel. I therefore pleaded with him to give to my daughter Lutie a testimony that it was his will that her mother should die. Within a few short hours, my wife breathed her last. Then I called the children into the bedroom and announced that their mamma was dead. My little boy Heber commenced weeping bitterly, and Lutie put her arms around him and kissed him, and told him not to cry, that the voice of the Lord had said to her, `In the death of your mamma the will of the Lord will be.’ Lutie knew nothing of my prayers, and this manifestation to her was direct answer to my supplication to the Lord, and for it I have never ceased to be grateful.”

Our family has been lucky enough to have the opportunity to care for a piece of farm land. When we first took a look at this place, I thought to myself, “There is no way we can do this, it’s too big, too much work.” It seemed like a long road ahead and I was super hesitant to commit to it. I mean it’s not like I don’t got stuff to do. However, this has always been something that we’ve wanted to do as parents (I would say family but I don’t think my kids would say that this is something they wanted to do). We talked about it and made a commitment. When we first started it was just our family. We began pulling weeds and clearing the area the best we could. It was hard, back breaking work and it seemed even though we were making progress that it would take a significant time to get to a point that we could start to plant something. Our friend who asked us to help care for the land told us he’d be by soon to help, and we were like, “no worries we got it, when you have time, no rush.” We don’t like to burden others. Maybe it’s a pride thing. We would go a few times a week to work on clearing the area. Our kids were a great help. It helped to speed up the process. One day my husband told me that our friends would come to help the next time we went up. I felt bad that they would spend their free time working in the hot sun pulling weeds and moving dirt. The day came and not only did our friends come, they brought machines that would help to clear the land quicker. As we watched the machines work my kids and I laughed at how easily the machines cleared the area. An area that took us days to clean was cleared in minutes. We wondered what the heck we were thinking by cleaning it by hand and why hadn’t we done this from the start. We were so grateful for the effort and time that was given to help. The task to care for that piece of land seemed more achievable after that. I’m so grateful for the help we received, it has made our time working at the farm more enjoyable.

I don’t like to depend on others, mostly because I don’t want to burden them. I know they are busy too!! Asking for help is not something I am good at. I rather tell my husband do it!! It has taken me some time to learn how to ask for and accept the help of others.

For me it had been a really rough week, and nothing had gone right. I had one thing after another just fall in on me. I got a D on a test in one of my favorite classes, and I had another test coming up in my worst class. Only two days before, I had gone to traffic court for a ticket I had received, and it cost me 25 dollars. But that wasn’t enough. During the same week I caught a bad cold and had to do push-ups for getting my fifth tardy in P.E.
It was just one thing after another all week. I kept asking myself what I was getting punished for, what I had done wrong.
When I finally got to school on Thursday (I was ten minutes late because of a flat tire), I received a call slip from my counselor, who informed me that all of my classes had been changed. That meant new classes, new lunch period, new teachers, new everything! That was the last straw. After third period I took off for home, and I decided I wasn’t coming back until next Monday.
That’s when it happened. On my way back home I was walking down the street when I noticed a person keeled over on the grass next to the curb. As I got closer, I saw it was a very old lady. She was just lying there, motionless. I thought, “That’s all I need—some old lady to die right in front of me.” So I just walked on. When I had gone a few yards I stopped and sort of turned my head to look. She was still lying there, motionless. I thought to myself, “Should I try to help her? I have enough troubles. Let someone else help her.” So I walked on.
Then I stopped again, and the first good thought I had all day came to me—what if I were in her shoes and I was the one who was down? So I turned around and looked. She was still lying there. I went back to her. She wasn’t dead; I could see her breathing.
I put my hand on her shoulder and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?” I guess I kind of startled her, because she immediately came to. She asked me to help her up. When I got her on her feet, she said she was very embarrassed, and she wouldn’t cause me any more trouble, and I could leave. But as soon as I let go of her she started to fall. I quickly grabbed her. That’s when I insisted on walking her back home.
She was small, very old, and had a personality like I had never encountered in an older lady before. I could tell she was scared because she gripped my arm like an eagle. She said she had been confined to her bed by her doctor, who had told her she had only about four months to live. All she wanted to do was to get out of bed and just talk to someone because she was lonely. She had walked down the street, become dizzy, and fallen.
I told her about my week and my problems, and she said something that changed my whole perspective. She said, “Don’t give up. When you are down, there will always be someone or something that will pick you up. Look at me. I was down, almost dead, when you came along and picked me up and gave me your friendship, the one thing I needed most.”
When we got to her house, she thanked me and ordered me back to school. I agreed to go, though I wanted to stay and visit. I was on my way back to school when the thought occurred to me—the good I had done her she had given right back to me without my even knowing it. In a very real sense she had lifted me off the ground and put me back on my feet and taught me a principle I’ll never forget.
I suppose if you tried to list the things I have in common with a 90-year-old woman it would be pretty hard. But we found each other and exchanged something that was missing in both our lives. I gave her friendship and a reason to live, and she took me, an empty body with nothing but bad thoughts, and filled me with happiness and love. That day I developed a special feeling for a little old lady who also found a place in her heart for me.

“I urge you to do what a missionary companion of mine did. He had run away from home as a teenager, and someone had placed a Book of Mormon in a box he carried with him in his search for more happiness.
“Years passed. He moved from place to place across the world. He was alone and unhappy one day when he saw the box. The box was filled with things he had carried with him. At the bottom of the box, he found the Book of Mormon. He read the promise in it and tested it. He knew it was true. That witness changed his life. He found happiness beyond his fondest dreams.

One older brother taught me an important lesson when I was five years old. That was when my twin, Karl, and I received a puppy. We did not understand the responsibilities that come with having a pet—we thought it was just another toy that didn’t require any particular care. We didn’t worry too much about giving the dog food or water or taking care of it. But we had an older brother who felt just the opposite. He had a great love for animals. He saw the need and took care of our puppy.
That dog grew up thinking that it belonged to our brother, and we used to argue about whose dog it was. Karl and I insisted that it was our dog, and we had contests with our older brother to see whom the dog would go to if we called to it. The dog always went to our brother.
The dog understood loyalty and the love our brother showed it. This experience taught me a powerful lesson about the law of the harvest, which tells us that as you sow, so shall you reap. My brother planted love when he took care of our dog, and he reaped the rewards of trust and loyalty.