Gospel Story Finder

A young man preparing to leave on a mission told me he grew up feeling his parents’ love for the scriptures, particularly the Book of Mormon. “Our family studied it together,” he said. “Mom and Dad taught us about the Savior, and I saw how much they loved him. Gradually I began to study and pray more on my own. I wanted the joy in my life that I saw in my parents’ lives.” Then he added this significant statement: “As my testimony of the Savior grew, I knew I could never let him down.”

Pleiades, or the Seven Sisters, is a constellation of seven stars that are so far away their light needs 350 years to reach the earth.
Ranging in age from their early twenties to late thirties, seven sisters from Mexico are letting their light shine in their family and in the mission field as they share the gospel with people in five countries.
Marisol (Chile Osorno), Antonia (Argentina Resistencia), Daniela (Costa Rica San José), Florencia (Honduras Comayaguela), Verónica (Chile Santiago East), Anai (Guatemala City North), and Balbina Nava Aguilar (Argentina Bahía Blanca) are concurrently serving missions for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The sisters’ first contact with LDS missionaries was when they began attending free English classes at a local chapel. In 2006 they—along with another sister and their brother—were baptized. Their parents, Albino Nava and Isidra Aguilar, who had joined the Church three decades earlier, came back into full activity at that time.
Sister Aguilar said she can see the good that has come of sending her seven daughters on missions.
“They are in the Lord’s hands, working, preaching His gospel to bring more souls [to Him],” she said.
“I love this gospel and I know that the work changes lives,” Florencia said. “It changed mine, and it will change the lives of those I teach.”
The sisters begin returning home at the end of 2011.

When I first received a call to serve as a health missionary, I knew very little about the program. I had a vision of myself heading into the deep, dark jungle, mounted on a carabao, laden down with an eighteen-month supply of Band-Aids, aspirin, multi-colored fly swatters, rubbing alcohol, shoe-laces, insect repellent, obsolete snake-bite kits, bouillon cubes, and various first-aid manuals collected from MIA and physical education classes.
This dream has been shattered in the months I’ve been serving in the Philippines as a health missionary, but the vision that has taken its place is so beautiful, I don’t miss the carabao at all!
The health missionary program of the Church has been underway for two years now, but still many are asking, “What is a health missionary?” “How do you get called to serve?” “What do you do?”
Contrary to what many of us believed when we first heard of the program, we are not sent out to cure all the diseases on the face of the earth. We are not even called to treat the illnesses of the members of the Church but rather to teach them principles of good health that will help them prevent disease. What a beautiful program!
We are called, as are other missionaries, to serve at our own expense for eighteen months or two years. Our calls come from President Harold B. Lee through our bishops. We go to the Missionary Home in Salt Lake and then spend time in language learning and/or our health program orientation. And then it’s away! We’re off to the islands, or the Lamanites in the Dakotas, or south of the border to Uruguay, or all the way to the Philippines!
This is a unique country. There are many varieties of beautiful plants, trees, flowers, fruits, and sunsets. And some of the most friendly, humble, wonderful people in the world—40,000,000 of them in this country of 7,100 islands. They speak 87 different dialects. They are remarkably gifted, particularly in music and handiwork.
This is also a developing country and a land of many health problems. Manila is a crowded city with many people living in poverty. Thousands of families live on a salary of 50 pesos per month (about $8.00) or less. There are typhoons and floods and flies and garbage. Pneumonia and tuberculosis are serious health problems.
Where and how do we begin to change this trend in the lives of our Church members and have some impact on their basic health? We have the advantage of a perfect organization already established and the direction of the priesthood. What a perfect way to reach the family and the individual—through the Church program, which is already functioning all over the world! We will work with and train leaders who will then share with the members. Under the direction of the district and branch leaders and our mission president, we will help to gather resource material, determine health problems in specific areas, and formulate lessons, programs, and activities that can be adapted to various teaching situations. Because of the way our program will work and the emphasis on health care rather than sick care, we can establish something that will endure long after we’ve gone home.
Happily we have found that active members of the Church are generally in better health than their countrymen. I attribute this to their keeping of the commandments, including the Word of Wisdom, and the purposeful living that comes with activity in the Church. These members already understand that their bodies are temples and must be kept clean and healthy. One humble sister who lost her husband and must work to have enough for herself and her children said to me with tears in her eyes, “Sister, I don’t have enough money to buy what I know my children should eat; but you know, I always express thanks to my Heavenly Father for the food I do have and ask him to bless it to give us health. And that makes all the difference.”
We have opportunities to proselyte along with our work in the health program. There are probably few experiences in life that bring the same quality of joy as that of bearing witness to a family that God lives and that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world. Even if it happens in a humble, two-room home, with mice running around on the floor, the rain coming in on your back, one light globe to light the room, and a big mother pig bursting in in the middle of your testimony, it still can be one of the most beautiful experiences life has to offer.
Some of our proselyting opportunities come in connection with our health work. We’ve had discussions with many interesting and interested people and have placed tracts and copies of the Book of Mormon in such places as the Department of Health, the World Health Organization, the Nutrition Foundation of the Philippines, and with taxi drivers, people on the bus, people at the post office, and even with Sister Ester, a delightful Catholic nun I met on a plane between Manila and Cebu. It was thrilling to see Sister Ester reading Alma.
One of the best things about a health mission is the association with the tremendous young people who serve on regular missions. Part of our work as health missionaries is concerned with keeping all 250 of them healthy. We start with simple things like “boil your water and wash your hands.” Then, somehow, you get the flu, and an elder asks innocently, “Did you forget to boil your water, Sister Edmunds?” We give the missionaries injections of the “gamma goblins” (gamma globulin), and many have laughed about “finally getting the point of the program.” Sometimes we’ll be engrossed in a book on the nutritional value of rice, and a missionary will ask humbly, “Are you sure that’s one of the standard works?”
Hymns begin to have different meanings sometimes when you’re singing them as a health missionary. “Thou flowing water, pure and clear” (no. 4); “With healing in thy wings” (no. 20); “With sleep refresh my feeble frame” (no. 59); “In every condition, in sickness, in health, In poverty’s vale or abounding in wealth” (no. 66); “Feed us with knowledge and daily bread” (no. 43).
Scriptures, too, take on a new meaning. “And ye shall serve the Lord your God, and he shall bless thy bread, and thy water: and I will take sickness away from the midst of thee.” (Ex. 23:25.) “Thou shalt not eat any abominable thing.” (Deut. 14:3.) “I have … drunk strange waters. …” (2 Kgs. 19:24.) “And there were some who died with fevers, which at some seasons of the year were very frequent in the land—but not so much so with fevers, because of the excellent qualities of the many plants and roots which God had prepared to remove the cause of diseases, to which men were subject by nature of the climate.” (Alma 46:40.)
You grow a lot on a mission. Your feet grow flat, your leather books grow mold, your clothes grow thin, and your heart grows bigger. You learn a lot of things you didn’t know before, like how to live without milk. You learn to make exotic noises with wet Hush Puppies as you walk down the street. You become better acquainted with Nephites, Israelites, and parasites. And through it all—the study sessions by candlelight, the rain on your bed in the middle of the night—you’re thankful to be here and thrilled at all the things you have to write home about as you try to put into words the best two years of your life.
What or who is a health missionary, then? Someone who’s going to learn and share a lot for a few short months. Someone who will gain much more than he or she will ever be able to give. A health missionary is not necessarily a nurse or a doctor. It is possible for Church members with many different skills to participate in this great, beautiful, inspired program. The potential is exciting.
This is a labor of love and an opportunity to represent the Savior. And he is our greatest example, for truly he was ever concerned with both the physical and spiritual health of all he met.

“I’d like to say that I grew up in the Church,” says Bert, “but I didn’t. I’m considered a convert by Church standards, because I wasn’t baptized until I was twelve, although I went to Primary. I came from a part-member family.”
Bert’s father, a tough, determined, highly-respected police officer, refused to give permission for his son’s baptism; then, “when I was twelve, I really got emphatic. He finally consented, and my brother and I were both baptized. I was ordained a deacon shortly after that.” Within a year, however, Bert was enrolled in a military boarding school, complete with its own non-denominational Protestant church. During the next five years, he recalls, the influence of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints “just started fading away.”
Amanda was not a member of the Church when she and Bert met, nor was she a Latter-day Saint when they married a few years later. Bert had become somewhat active during his air force training in California; but, he says, “things were moving slowly for me.” Shortly after their marriage, however, “my life started to change because of her.
“We were married after I was commissioned as an officer in the air force.” (Amanda, by this time, had earned a degree in secondary education from the University of Hawaii.) “For a while we lived in California; then we moved to Kansas after some air force training in Texas. Two weeks after we arrived in Kansas, I think the Lord felt it was time that Amanda found out about the Church. Although we had been attending meetings, we hadn’t gotten really serious about the Church.
Bert was sent to Greenland for 109 days, and since the couple had not yet found an apartment in Kansas, Amanda stayed with Bert’s cousin and his wife. The relatives were active Church members, and they and the stake missionaries began encouraging Amanda to schedule her baptism for the same day as the cousin’s eight-year-old daughter’s.
Amanda was unhappy about the situation. “I didn’t think they should know when I was going to be ready; but they said they knew, and they had set the date.”
“I felt a little bad about that,” says Bert, remembering the letter Amanda sent him at the time. “I was a little embarrassed, because that was my church. But then the next week I got another letter saying, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t wait any longer. I’m being baptized Saturday.’”
“They did know,” smiles Amanda. “I was ready.”
Following Amanda’s conversion, Bert began to progress in the Church as well. He was ordained a priest, then an elder, and the DuPonts were soon sealed in the temple.
Still, Bert had questions. “I’m not ashamed to admit it—I had some doubts about the Church, and one of them concerned the reality of a modern-day prophet.” In time, Bert would receive that testimony in a very personal way—from a prophet of God himself.
Along with continuing spiritual growth came additional Church responsibilities, the adoption of two sons, and rapid professional advancement. As a colonel in the air force, Bert was known and respected for his integrity, willingness to work, and his ability to get the job done. Such a reputation made him a top candidate for assignment in Montevideo, Uruguay, in the early 1970s as an adviser to that country’s military services. He was offered the position, but the decision to accept or refuse it was his. “I looked at a Church directory to see if the Church was there,” he says. “There were two stakes, so I thought, ‘Well, we’ll go.’” Then he and Amanda went to Washington, D.C., where he took an intensive six-month course in Spanish language and culture.
But then came a telephone call for Bert from his superiors. “They said, ‘We need you more in Bogota, Colombia, than we do in Montevideo, so we are changing your assignment.’ I could find no Church listings for Colombia, so I refused, and there was nothing they could say to change my mind.
“Then one day I had another telephone call from an officer. I tried to explain to him that I was a member of the Church and why I didn’t want to go to Colombia. It turned out that he was a member of the Church, the senior president of the seventies in his stake, and he said, ‘Brother DuPont, have you ever thought that maybe the Lord has a job for you to do in Colombia?’ It was the first time we had thought of it like that. We decided that we would go.”
Once in Colombia, the DuPonts found that the Lord did indeed have a job for them—several jobs, in fact. “I really feel,” says Bert, “though I didn’t feel that way at the time, that we were sent there to help with the Church. When the Church moves into a new area, the people who are converted are not the bank presidents or the university professors; they are the humblest and the poorest people. And all we had there were missionaries from the United States, who often weren’t accepted by the people. I was somewhat different because of my rank in the air force; being in the military helped. And I wasn’t white; that helped, too. Missionaries would tell the people something, and they wouldn’t believe it; but if we walked in the door and said the same thing, they would listen.”
Soon after the DuPonts arrived in Bogota, Bert was called to be a counselor in the district presidency; later he served as a branch president in Bogota. Amanda, warmly interested in her Colombian sisters, learned the language and was called to assume leadership responsibilities in the Relief Society and Young Women organizations. Both the DuPonts were loved and honored for their commitment to the gospel and their daily acts of Christian service.
A good part of their service embraced the missionary effort; still developing in Colombia some twelve years ago, the Church needed all the strong testimonies and good examples it could get. One returned missionary who served in Colombia recalls that the DuPonts were “great examples for the Saints. They demonstrated what home teaching and visiting teaching really were; what home evening is all about, and what it means to love and serve each other.”
The DuPonts’ home was a much-loved gathering place for the elders and sisters. Bert remembers, “We’d sometimes have as many as sixty missionaries over for dinner for the big U.S. holidays—Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas.”
From their earliest days in Colombia, the matter of heritage played a significant role in the DuPonts’ remarkable success story. Consider, for example, their participation in the Church’s first youth conference in that country. Invited to provide some Hawaiian entertainment, they drove ten hours over a tortuous mountain road to attend the conference.
Once there, Bert was asked to speak. “As I looked out into that group—the leaders and the youth—I was struck by the impression that it was like I was in Hawaii. They all looked like my relatives; their Indian background matched up with the Hawaiians and the Polynesians. So I decided I would tell them about Hagoth, the Nephite shipbuilder; I started out talking about that, and about how they looked like my uncles and aunts back in Hawaii. Our relationship with them grew from that. I told them, ‘When I say hermanos y hermanas to you, I don’t mean brothers and sisters only in the gospel; I really mean that we have a blood relationship—the blood of Israel is here.’”
The “blood of Israel” image became still more personal when Bert and Amanda invited his parents to visit them in Bogota. It was a new beginning.
“My dad was a good man,” reflects Bert, “but we couldn’t convince him to join the Church—even though whenever he visited us, he would comment about the happiness we had in our family, and how he wished the other children could have it.”
Late one night during his parents’ visit, Bert was awakened. “I was prompted,” he recalls, “to go and challenge my dad—again—to be baptized, even though he had refused many times before. I woke Amanda (I always have to confer with her, because she’s got the Spirit!), told her my feeling, and she said, ‘Well, I guess you’d better go do it.’ So I went into his room … it was like Daniel going into the lions’ den.”
Bert woke his father, bore testimony, issued the challenge. The response? “My dad put his arms around me and hugged me and cried. He had been shot, stabbed, and injured many times during his life as a police officer, and he had never before shed a tear as far as I knew.”
Within weeks, Brother DuPont had fully embraced the gospel. “The missionaries from the U.S. could not teach him in English,” Bert explains, “because they only knew their discussions in Spanish. So I interpreted for them. My parents came to church with us every Sunday even though they couldn’t understand what was going on because everything was spoken in Spanish. But evidently my father could feel something—and I believe it was the spirit of the people. There was standing room only the day he was baptized.”
It wasn’t until 1975, after Bert and Amanda had returned to Hawaii, that Bert’s testimony of the living prophet was solidly confirmed. Bert had been asked to assist with security measures for President Spencer W. Kimball who was making a short visit to Bogota. Bert’s description of the experience is a moving testimony of the prophet’s influence:
“President Kimball shook my hand, and it felt like electricity going up my arm. He looked into my eyes, and that was it; I knew. We were together a good deal of the time, and it was the most wonderful experience.
“We had family home evening at the mission home, and I was the only one without my family. I sat right next to President Kimball, and he put his arm around me. Then we knelt down, and the mission president asked the President to give the family prayer. My whole life changed in those moments; I just knew he was a prophet. It was the full conversion.”
Meanwhile, Amanda recalls with a knowing smile, while Bert was with the President, “things weren’t going too well back home. I was in a car accident; I wasn’t hurt, but the car was damaged.”
“You have to understand,” adds Bert, “that I was a person who had to have everything neat and clean. You didn’t touch my car, because you might leave a fingerprint on it.”
Amanda says their two sons, “Duane and Doug, kept saying, ‘Oh, boy, wait until Dad comes home and sees the car.’ The day Bert arrived home, they wouldn’t even go to the airport with me to meet him, so I went by myself; there hadn’t been time to get the car fixed.”
But something had changed. “Bert came off that airplane, and I think he was walking above the ground. When he saw me, all he could talk about was what a great experience it was to be with the prophet. He went right past the damaged fender on the car and didn’t even see it.
“When we got home, the boys were peeking out from behind the drapes. Bert said, ‘Okay, when my boys are hiding, something’s happened.’ So I had to show him the damaged fender. He looked at it, turned to me, and said, ‘Oh, Mom, I’m really glad you didn’t get hurt.’ Then he gave me a big hug.”
The stories go on and on. The DuPonts have opened their arms and home to a procession of foster children, less-fortunate Colombian friends and fellow Saints, missionaries whose finances and confidence needed help, and anyone else who can use a warm Hawaiian greeting, a generous sampling of Amanda’s expert cooking, or a gentle but persuasive nudge in the general direction of truth and righteousness.
“We love people,” says Amanda, “and the gospel gives us direction in serving and helping them wherever we can.”

Sarah was unpacking a box in her room when Mom walked in.
“Can we paint the walls yellow?” she asked Mom.
They had just moved into a different house. Sarah had been able to pick out a quilt and curtains for her new room!
“I think so,” Mom said. “Yellow is a happy color.”
Sarah put a few books on a little shelf by her bed. Mom didn’t always feel happy lately, not since Dad had died in the accident. Sarah carefully put her favorite picture of Dad next to the books, where she could see it every morning when she woke up.
She heard a sniffle and saw tears in the corners of Mom’s eyes.
“I love you, Mom,” Sarah said, wrapping her arms around Mom’s waist and squeezing tight.
“I love you more.”
The Saturday before school started, Mom and Sarah put on old clothes, moved the furniture to the middle of Sarah’s room, and carefully pushed paint rollers into trays of yellow paint. After a while, the walls were covered in yellow—and so were their faces and clothes!
“You look like you’ve got sunshine splattered all over you,” Mom said with a laugh.
Sarah giggled. “And you look like a banana exploded next to you!”
They were still laughing as they cleaned up. But Sarah’s smile faded when she thought about going to Primary tomorrow and school the day after that.
“I’m worried about church and my new school,” she told Mom as they rinsed paintbrushes in the sink. “I won’t know any of the teachers or kids or anybody.”
Mom turned off the water and pulled Sarah into a hug.
“You’ll make friends. You have a kind heart that will draw others to you. Be your wonderful self, and friends will come.”
Sarah felt a little better, but she was still nervous.
“I wish Dad were here to give me a blessing,” she said. “Like he always used to before I went back to school.”
Mom was quiet for a minute. “What about Uncle Wyatt?” she said. “I’m sure he’d be happy to give you a blessing.”
Sarah nodded. Maybe a blessing would help.
That night, Sarah’s uncle put his hands on her head to give her a blessing.
“I bless you to know that the Savior is mindful of you as you start this new chapter in life,” he said. “He will not leave you alone.”
Sarah paid special attention to the words new chapter. She loved to read and was always excited to start a new chapter in a book.
The next morning Sarah and Mom went to church. After sacrament meeting Mom helped Sarah find the Primary room. A girl inside smiled at her and said hello.
“You can sit here if you want,” she said, patting an empty chair next to her.
“Thanks,” Sarah said. “My name’s Sarah. I’m new here.”
“I’m Melody. And I’m new too! This is only my second week.”
Soon Melody and Sarah were talking with the other Primary kids. Their teacher was really nice.
“I hope school goes this well!” Sarah thought as she went to bed that night.
The next day, Sarah rode the bus to her new school. She was excited to see a few kids from Primary in her third-grade class.
“Thank you, Heavenly Father,” Sarah prayed silently as she ate lunch with her new friends. “Maybe this will be a good chapter, after all.”

Members try to share that peace and strength with their neighbors. In San Fernando, Rogelio and Olaya Parra, Jorge’s parents, have been sharing for decades now. Their stake president says more than 100 local members have come into the Church through contacts with this couple.

When they were baptized in 1972, Rogelio recalls, “My father told me I was crazy.” Olaya says her family also was upset, but, “I’m not influenced by what people think if I know it’s right.”

Shortly after their baptism, Olaya recalls with a laugh, “I was president of the Primary, and I had no idea what the Primary was. I was lost.” She learned quickly. She has gone on to teach and hold leadership roles in all the auxiliary organizations, and her husband has held a variety of leadership positions; currently he is stake patriarch and serves as a temple sealer.

Back in those early days in San Fernando, the Parras hosted the missionary discussions for many of the first converts in the area. That is exactly the way it should be, says former mission president Faustino López of the Alcalá de Henares Second Ward, Madrid Spain East Stake. He served as president of the Spain Málaga Mission—the first Spaniard to preside over a mission in his home country. “Members are the only ones who can open some doors,” he says. The Church has a good reputation among those who know of it through friends. Without member help, however, missionaries often have difficulty finding people to teach.

A few years ago my rugby team participated in a weeklong tournament. This meant seven days away from home, parents, and Church leaders. Because we attend a Church school, everyone on my team was a member of the Church. Almost every evening that week, the other teams in our hotel would party in their rooms with loud music, dancing, drinking, smoking, and screaming harsh words at each other. Our team gathered in a room for our tradition of scripture study and evening devotionals. It felt good to do the right thing without being instructed by our parents. After the other teams observed us with surprise, we gained their respect. They were silent when they knew we were having evening devotionals. They seemed to be interested in what we were doing, and some even joined with us to read the scriptures and pray together.

We didn’t win the tournament that week, but we won in another way. We were able to shine our light, and through our examples, change hearts and minds.
Elisara E., 20, Samoa

I kept hearing the words of the doctor. Looking kindly at the room full of elderly people, he had told us that, if we thought there was nothing to get out of bed for, we were dying. If we were living, we needed to get up, feed our body, keep it clean, and exercise it.
I was past eighty. I didn’t want to get out of bed. But it was Thursday, and I hadn’t yet fulfilled my weekly temple assignment. The evening news had been more distressing than usual. I was troubled about some family matters. My house and yard took what little physical strength I had. Helplessness, indecision, and my aging body frustrated me. Finally, I decided to leave this world for a few hours and go to another—the temple.
When I arrived at the temple, I sat for a while and quietly absorbed the feeling around me. The sister on my left was young and beautiful, with golden, shoulder-length hair. She smiled. The sister on my right seemed even older than I was. She smiled. I felt I was with friends.
Suddenly, I knew what had been depressing me. Satan is very real, and he is here on this earth to hurt and mislead everyone he can. It struck me with startling force that he would hurt even a little old lady, and that he had been hurting me. I felt peace and a closeness to the strangers beside me.
I saw that the power of Christ is stronger than Satan. I knew I had agency and could receive peace if I would seek it. My uncertainties and the problems of growing old drained out of me. My mind grew quiet and confident. I knew I was capable of handling all the decisions I needed to make.
I sat up straighter and felt happy. My friends beside me also seemed to feel the surging spirit that filled the room. The spirit testified that Heavenly Father lives. I knew then that the problems of life have purpose and help us choose right or wrong, good or evil, joy or sorrow. I knew that Jesus Christ lived on earth and is living now—and that through him I can be redeemed from my mistakes. I felt a power at that moment that would guide me and strengthen me to do what the Lord has planned for me to do.
How foolish of me to worry or fret during the few remaining years I have in mortality. I felt thankful for my home and confident that I could manage it. The Lord would help me make a celestial circle around the small spot of earth that is temporarily mine. My heart was filled with eagerness to begin a new life of hope and joy. I was filled with the desire to clean the house, trim the shrubs, plant some flowers, talk to the neighbors, and welcome any of my family who would come.
And my children do need me. All my grandchildren and all my great-grandchildren and their families need me. They need my well-being, my courage, my ability to be happy, and my love.
The temple session was closing. I silently gave thanks for the gift the Lord had given me that day. I promised to keep always in my heart the temple spirit I had felt. Outside, I paused in humble gratitude for flowers and budding trees. I knew that my apricots were blooming at home and that my daffodils would be there to greet me like a banner of gold. My heart reached out in love for home, for family, for life itself, for everything. I quietly resolved to live the last years of my life in gratitude and to make them become a sweet memory in the forever of the future.

Usually at some point soon after baptism, new members will be asked to take on a greater role in serving in their ward or branch. The bishop or branch president will issue a calling. This can be a difficult time for some.
When I accepted the first calling I received—Relief Society secretary—I wondered, “How could I be given such an important responsibility?” President Henry B. Eyring, First Counselor in the First Presidency, explained how: “There will be times when you will feel overwhelmed. One of the ways you will be attacked is with the feeling that you are inadequate. … But you have access to more than your natural capacities, and you do not work alone.”2
Sometime later, the Relief Society president commented that the suggestions I had made at a presidency meeting showed that I was inspired. Confused, I replied, “I am?” She kindly reassured me that I was responding to the Spirit. Recognizing the hand of God guiding the work we do is not easy at first, but as we keep the commandments and work diligently, we will recognize that He magnifies those whom He calls.

The sacrament is an ordinance that helps us stay on the path, and worthily partaking is evidence that we are keeping the covenants associated with all the other ordinances. A few years ago, while my wife, Anita, and I were serving in the Arkansas Little Rock Mission, I went out to teach with two young missionaries. During the lesson, the good brother we were teaching said, “I have been to your church; why do you have to eat bread and drink water every Sunday? In our church, we do it twice a year, on Easter and Christmas, and that is very meaningful.”

We shared with him that we are commanded to “meet together oft to partake of bread and wine” (Moroni 6:6; see also D&C 20:75). We read out loud Matthew 26 and 3 Nephi 18. He responded that he still did not see the necessity.

We then shared the following comparison: “Imagine you are involved in a very serious car accident. You have been injured and are unconscious. Someone runs by, seeing that you are unconscious, and dials the emergency number, 911. You are attended to and regain consciousness.”

We asked this brother, “When you are able to recognize your surroundings, what questions will you have?”

He said, “I will want to know how I got there and who found me. I will want to thank him every day because he saved my life.”

We shared with this good brother how the Savior saved our lives and how we need to thank Him every day, every day, every day!

We then asked, “Knowing that He gave His life for you and us, how often do you want to eat the bread and drink the water as emblems of His body and blood?”

He said, “I get it, I get it. But one more thing. Your church is not lively like ours.”

To that we responded, “What would you do if the Savior Jesus Christ walked through your door?”

He said, “Immediately, I would go down to my knees.”

We asked, “Isn’t that what you feel when you walk into Latter-day Saint chapels—reverence for the Savior?”

He said, “I get it, I get it, I get it!”

He showed up at church that Easter Sunday and kept returning.

Seven-year-old Joseph was sick for only two weeks, but the terrible fever caused an infection in the bone between the knee and ankle of his left leg. The skin there swelled tight, and for over two weeks Joseph suffered terrible pain in his leg. Twelve-year-old Hyrum showed great love for his little brother. He sat beside Joseph almost day and night, pressing the swollen leg in his hands, trying to help Joseph endure the pain.

Twice the doctor tried to drain the infection and reduce the swelling, but it didn’t work. Finally he told Joseph’s parents that the leg ought to be removed before the infection spread to the rest of Joseph’s body. But Joseph’s mother insisted that they try again to save the leg.

Dr. Nathan Smith, who knew more about this disease than any other doctor in the United States at that time, was one of the doctors who treated Joseph. He agreed to try one more time to cut out only the infection. Before he began to operate, he wanted to tie Joseph to the bed and to give him some liquor to dull the pain. Joseph refused both helps. “No,” exclaimed Joseph, “I will not touch one particle of liquor, neither will I be tied down. … I will have my father sit on the bed and hold me in his arms.”* He also wanted his mother to leave the room so that she wouldn’t have to see him suffer. The surgery was extremely painful. When Dr. Smith broke off the infected part of the bone, Joseph screamed.

When the surgery was finally over, Joseph was sent to visit his Uncle Jesse Smith at a seaside town, Salem, Massachusetts, to help him recover. But though both his life and leg were spared, for three years he walked with crutches, and for the rest of his life—especially when he was tired—he walked with a slight limp.

One of our beloved hymns expresses the plea “Thru cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!”1 I was once on a plane as it approached a large storm. Looking out the window, I could see a dense blanket of clouds below us. The rays of the setting sun reflected off the clouds, causing them to shine with intense brightness. Soon, the plane descended through the heavy clouds, and we were suddenly enveloped in a thick darkness that completely blinded us to the intense light we had witnessed just moments earlier.2
Black clouds may also form in our lives, which can blind us to God’s light and even cause us to question if that light exists for us anymore. Some of those clouds are of depression, anxiety, and other forms of mental and emotional affliction. They can distort the way we perceive ourselves, others, and even God. They affect women and men of all ages in all corners of the world.
Likewise damaging is the desensitizing cloud of skepticism that can affect others who have not experienced these challenges. Like any part of the body, the brain is subject to illnesses, trauma, and chemical imbalances. When our minds are suffering, it is appropriate to seek help from God, from those around us, and from medical and mental health professionals.
“All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and … each has a divine nature and destiny.”3 Like our Heavenly Parents and our Savior, we have a physical body4 and experience emotions.5
My dear sisters, it is normal to feel sad or worried once in a while. Sadness and anxiety are natural human emotions.6 However, if we are constantly sad and if our pain blocks our ability to feel the love of our Heavenly Father and His Son and the influence of the Holy Ghost, then we may be suffering from depression, anxiety, or another emotional condition.
My daughter once wrote: “There was a time … [when] I was extremely sad all of the time. I always thought that sadness was something to be ashamed of, and that it was a sign of weakness. So I kept my sadness to myself. … I felt completely worthless.”7
A friend described it this way: “Since my early childhood, I have faced a constant battle with feelings of hopelessness, darkness, loneliness, and fear and the sense that I am broken or defective. I did everything to hide my pain and to never give the impression that I was anything but thriving and strong.”8
My dear friends, it can happen to any of us—especially when, as believers in the plan of happiness, we place unnecessary burdens on ourselves by thinking we need to be perfect now. Such thoughts can be overwhelming. Achieving perfection is a process that will take place throughout our mortal life and beyond—and only through the grace of Jesus Christ.9
In contrast, when we open up about our emotional challenges, admitting we are not perfect, we give others permission to share their struggles. Together we realize there is hope and we do not have to suffer alone.10
As disciples of Jesus Christ, we have made a covenant with God that we “are willing to bear one another’s burdens” and “to mourn with those that mourn.”11 This may include becoming informed about emotional illnesses, finding resources that can help address these struggles, and ultimately bringing ourselves and others to Christ, who is the Master Healer.12 Even if we do not know how to relate to what others are going through, validating that their pain is real can be an important first step in finding understanding and healing.13
In some cases, the cause of depression or anxiety can be identified, while other times it may be harder to discern.14 Our brains may suffer because of stress15 or staggering fatigue,16 which can sometimes be improved through adjustments in diet, sleep, and exercise. Other times, therapy or medication under the direction of trained professionals may also be needed.
Untreated mental or emotional illness can lead to increased isolation, misunderstandings, broken relationships, self-harm, and even suicide. I know this firsthand, as my own father died by suicide many years ago. His death was shocking and heartbreaking for my family and me. It has taken me years to work through my grief, and it was only recently that I learned talking about suicide in appropriate ways actually helps to prevent it rather than encourage it.17 I have now openly discussed my father’s death with my children and witnessed the healing that the Savior can give on both sides of the veil.18
Sadly, many who suffer from severe depression distance themselves from their fellow Saints because they feel they do not fit some imaginary mold. We can help them know and feel that they do indeed belong with us. It is important to recognize that depression is not the result of weakness, nor is it usually the result of sin.19 It “thrives in secrecy but shrinks in empathy.”20 Together, we can break through the clouds of isolation and stigma so the burden of shame is lifted and miracles of healing can occur.
During His mortal ministry, Jesus Christ healed the sick and the afflicted, but each person had to exercise faith in Him and act to receive His healing. Some walked for long distances, others extended their hand to touch His garment, and others had to be carried to Him in order to be healed.21 When it comes to healing, don’t we all need Him desperately? “Are we not all beggars?”22
Let us follow the Savior’s path and increase our compassion, diminish our tendency to judge, and stop being the inspectors of the spirituality of others. Listening with love is one of the greatest gifts we can offer, and we may be able to help carry or lift the heavy clouds that suffocate our loved ones and friends23 so that, through our love, they can once again feel the Holy Ghost and perceive the light that emanates from Jesus Christ.
If you are constantly surrounded by a “mist of darkness,”24 turn to Heavenly Father. Nothing that you have experienced can change the eternal truth that you are His child and that He loves you.25 Remember that Christ is your Savior and Redeemer, and God is your Father. They understand. Picture Them close by you, listening and offering support.26 “[They] will console you in your afflictions.”27 Do all you can, and trust in the Lord’s atoning grace.
Your struggles do not define you, but they can refine you.28 Because of a “thorn in the flesh,”29 you may have the ability to feel more compassion toward others. As guided by the Holy Ghost, share your story in order to “succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees.”30
For those of us currently struggling or supporting someone who is struggling, let us be willing to follow God’s commandments so we may always have His Spirit with us.31 Let us do the “small and simple things”32 that will give us spiritual strength. As President Russell M. Nelson said, “Nothing opens the heavens quite like the combination of increased purity, exact obedience, earnest seeking, daily feasting on the words of Christ in the Book of Mormon, and regular time committed to temple and family history work.”33
Let us all remember that our Savior, Jesus Christ, “[has taken] upon him [our] infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know … how to succor [us] according to [our] infirmities.”34 He came “to bind up the brokenhearted, … to comfort all that mourn; … to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.”35
I testify to you that “thru cloud and sunshine” the Lord will abide with us, our “afflictions [can be] swallowed up in the joy of Christ,”36 and “it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.”37 I testify that Jesus Christ will return to the earth “with healing in his wings.”38 Ultimately, He “shall wipe away all tears from [our] eyes; and there shall be no more … sorrow.”39 For all who will “come unto Christ, and be perfected in him,”40 the “sun shall no more go down; … for the Lord shall be [our] everlasting light, and the days of [our] mourning shall be ended.”41 In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

A few years ago we were standing in a large crowd of people gathered early in the morning along the waterfront of Apia Harbor in Samoa. It was the occasion of the National Holidays, when hundreds of people came to watch the Fautasi, or long-boat, races that sweep in from the ocean to the calmer waters of the harbor to cross the finish line.
The crowd was restless, and most eyes were turned toward the sea, watching for the first glimpse of the fautasis. Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd as the boats came into sight in the distance. Each of them had a crew of fifty powerful oarsmen dipping and pulling the oars with a rhythm that forced the crafts through the waves and foaming water—a beautiful sight.
The boats and men were soon in full view as they raced toward the finish. Even though these powerful men pulled with their might, the weight of a boat with fifty men moved against a powerful adverse force—the resistance of the water.
The cheering of the crowd reached a crescendo when the first long-boat crossed the finish line. We walked over to the place where the boats docked after the race had concluded. One of the oarsmen explained to us that the prow of the fautasi is so constructed that it cuts through and divides the water to help overcome the resistance that retards the speed of the boat. He further explained that the pulling of the oars against the resistance of the water creates the force that causes the boat to move forward. Resistance creates both the opposition and the forward movement.

Larry whistled to the dogs as he opened the gate and gently pushed the chocolate-colored goat he had named Cocoa into the pen with the milling hounds. The sad-eyed dogs began inspecting the newcomer, from her long ears to her switching tail. Cocoa nuzzled and licked the hounds in return. Then she trotted around the pen, nibbling and smelling everything. Finally she jumped on top of the doghouse and settled down with a bored look on her long face.
Larry bought Cocoa as a companion for his hunting dogs, hoping they would chase coons as they had been trained to do instead of deer when they became used to this deer-like creature. The animal soon forgot she was a goat and followed the dogs everywhere. But Larry’s best dog Tina was soon to have pups, and he worried about how Cocoa would treat them. He put Tina in the barn as a precaution when the time neared for her pups to be born.
One morning in late winter, the dogs were fretting in the barnyard. Larry saw Ringo and Ace walking to and fro in their pen, whining. He pulled on his coat, jammed on his hat, and hurried across the yard to the barn, his breath making small clouds in the cold air.
The bed he had made for Tina was empty! Then Larry turned and saw a nervous and tense Cocoa. She lowered her brown head and threatened him as he tried to go farther into the barn. He was puzzled by the unusual behavior of the gentle goat until he heard the cries of Tina’s newborn pups. Then he understood that this was Cocoa’s way of protecting her friend.
Later that morning, Larry again went to the barn. This time Cocoa allowed him to get on top of a pile of hay where he could look down and see Tina with her new family.
In a few weeks the puppies were toddling about the farmyard. The littlest one, named Topper, became Cocoa’s favorite.
By midsummer all of the puppies but Topper were sold. No one wanted the runt of the litter except Cocoa, who took the gangling puppy everywhere she went.
Cocoa and little Topper were together as usual one summer evening when Larry came upon them. “Well, old girl,” he greeted her, “how is your little charge tonight?”
Cocoa replied with a gentle baaaa and nudged Topper to a faster pace.
Then late one fall afternoon, Topper and Cocoa were alone in the barnyard when a cougar came slinking into the yard. It moved so stealthily that its belly almost hugged the ground, but periodically it crouched motionless to stare at the unwary Cocoa. The creature’s small ears were held close to its large tan head and its long tail made graceful sweeping motions.
Cocoa slowly chewed her cud until she caught the scent of the animal. Fear widened her eyes as she turned and saw the mountain lion staring at her.
Cocoa’s heart pounded and her legs trembled with fear. She gave one pitiful bleat as the large cat moved forward slowly, seeing nothing but the fat, tender goat. The cougar crouched to leap after the shivering Cocoa, growling and swallowing with anticipation. Suddenly out of the barn hurtled a brown and white blur. Little Topper was enraged that the creature had frightened Cocoa and he lunged straight for the cat.
Distracted in its pursuit of Cocoa, the fearsome animal snarled furiously and shook the feisty little dog from its neck.
Cocoa was jarred out of her panic by Topper’s painful yelp and hurled herself at the surprised cat. She struck the tawny body with a great thud.
Stunned by the impact, the big cat wheeled, and Topper leaped on its back, seizing a mouthful of hair and hide. The cougar, hampered by the dog and unaware that Cocoa was preparing her second attack, received a vicious blow in its side. Growling, the intruder finally shook the snarling dog from its back again and made a wild dash for the meadow.
Little Topper and Cocoa gave chase, bellowing their anger with every leap. When they were assured that the cougar was gone, they returned to the farmyard and met Larry running toward them. He quickly examined the cut and bleeding Topper. “Don’t worry, old girl,” he told Cocoa. “I don’t think your little friend is badly hurt, mostly just some deep scratches.” He dropped a gentle hand to smooth the long ears of the worried goat.
After Larry had cared for both animals, he started for the house. He had not gone far when he heard Cocoa bleat softly to little Topper, and he smiled contentedly when an answering woof came from her defender.

The Tabernacle, 1874
The First Presidency was informed that a Missouri militia leader from the days of Mormon persecutions there was coming to Utah. Immediately President Young’s counselor, Elder George A. Smith, paid tribute to the visiting general at a Sunday meeting in the Tabernacle.5 Then the First Presidency took General Alexander Doniphan on a special train trip to Provo, Utah for a tour and a sumptuous meal. Why was he given this honored treatment? Elder Smith gave the answer in his Tabernacle sermon:
“During a long career (by the Church) of persecution, people occasionally present themselves like stars of the first magnitude in defense of right, who are willing notwithstanding the unpopularity that may attach to it, to publicly protest against mob violence, murder, abuse, or the destruction of property and constitutional rights, even if the people who are being abused … have the nonpopular name of Mormons.”
In Missouri General Doniphan proved himself to be such a “star of the first magnitude.”6 He served as the Church’s attorney during much of the Missouri period. When elected to the state legislature, he helped develop two new northern counties as refuge places for the Saints. Then, as a militia leader, he refused to obey General Samuel D. Lucas’ infamous order to murder Joseph Smith, and warned General Lucas:
“It is cold blooded murder. I will not obey your order. My brigade shall march for Liberty tomorrow morning, at 8 o’clock; and if you execute these men, I will hold you responsible before an earthly tribunal, so help me God.”7

When I went on my first mission back in 1905, my cousin and I traveled together to Liverpool; he was sent up into Norway and I was sent to Holland. After we had been in the mission field a few months, I received a letter from him, addressing me by name, and he said: “I met a man the other day who knows more about religion than I ever dreamed of. I told him that if he had something better than I had, I would join his church.”
I wrote him back, addressing him by name, and I said: “You told him just the right thing. If he has something better than you have, you ought to join his church.” Then I quoted some of the experiences that Brother Fyans related to us this morning. I said: “Does he have something better than a personal visitation of God the Father, and his Son, Jesus Christ, in a pillar of light, after centuries of spiritual darkness, to open the dispensation of the fulness of times and to reveal the true personality of the Godhead—that they are glorified personages?”
I said: “Does he have something better than the coming of Moroni with the plates from which the Book of Mormon was translated? Does he have something better than the coming of John the Baptist with the Aaronic Priesthood, the power and authority to baptize by immersion for the remission of sins? Does he have something better than the coming of Peter, James, and John—Apostles of the Lord Jesus Christ—with the holy Melchizedek Priesthood, the holy Apostleship, the authority to organize the church and kingdom of God for the last time to prepare the way for the coming of the Son of Man and to convey the Holy Ghost by the laying on of hands?
“Does he have something better than the coming of Moses with the keys of the latter-day gathering of Israel that has brought us here into these valleys of the mountains? Does he have something better than the coming of Elijah of whose coming Malachi bore testimony that if it were not for his coming, before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord, the whole earth would be utterly wasted at his coming? Think of the consequences. Now,” I said, “if he has something better than that, you join his church.”
I can’t think of anything that we as parents and as leaders in Israel can plant into the hearts of our youth that will help them to avoid the evils and pitfalls and temptations of this world and the false philosophies of men and enable them to live in the world and yet not be a part of the world like having planted in their hearts through the power of the Holy Ghost a testimony of the truth of this restored gospel.
I like the words of the Apostle Peter. He said: “We have also a more sure word of prophecy; whereunto ye do well that ye take heed, as unto a light that shineth in a dark place, until the … day star arise in your hearts:
“Knowing this first, that no prophecy of the scripture is of any private interpretation.
“For the prophecy came not in old time by the will of man: but holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost.” (2 Pet. 1:19–21.)
That is what brings testimony.
And then Peter said to those who had put to death the Christ following the day of Pentecost: “Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out, when the times of refreshing shall come from the presence of the Lord;
“And he shall send Jesus Christ, which before was preached unto you:
“Whom the heaven must receive until the times of restitution of all things, which God hath spoken by the mouth of all his holy prophets since the world began.” (Acts 3:19–21.)
No man can believe that Peter was a prophet of the living God and look for the coming of the Lord except there be a restitution of all things spoken by the mouths of all the holy prophets since the world began. And a restitution is not a reformation. All the churches of the world today have attempted to correct the mistakes of history until there are hundreds of churches because they can’t agree. And if they had the truth, they would all be alike; and so there had to be a restitution. That means that those holy prophets had to come back to this earth, and that is what you have been told here in this conference.
And if they came back to this earth, they had to come to somebody, and that somebody could be none other than a prophet of God. Like Amos said, “Surely the Lord God will do nothing, but he revealeth his secret unto his servants the prophets” (Amos 3:7). And that prophet was Joseph Smith.
We bear testimony of this restitution of all things—the coming of these holy prophets as has been pointed out here during this conference today.
I like the prophecies of the scriptures. Jesus walked along the way toward Emmaus with two of his disciples following his resurrection, and when he heard what they had to say regarding him and his crucifixion, he knew that they did not understand and comprehend what the prophets had said; so he said, “O fools, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken” (Luke 24:25), and commencing with Moses and the prophets, He showed them how that in all things the prophets had testified of him.
I love the prophecies of Isaiah. It seems to me that he almost lived more in our day than when he was actually upon the earth. He saw so much of what would transpire in our day. He saw us settled here in these valleys of the mountains. He saw this desert, where we were once a thousand miles from transportation and supplies, made to blossom as a rose (see Isa. 35:1). He saw the rivers flow in the desert where we have built these great irrigation canals (see Isa. 43:19). He saw the water flow down from the high places where we have reservoired it in these mountain fastnesses for summer’s use (see Isa. 41:18). He saw the redeemed of the Lord come up and sing in the heights of Zion (see Isa. 51:11). And where do you find anything in the world to fulfill that like the singing of the Tabernacle Choir for over fifty years without a break?
He saw the mountain of the Lord’s house established in the top of the mountains in the latter days when all nations would flow unto it, and they would say, “Come ye, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of the God of Jacob; that he will teach us of his ways, and we will walk in his paths” (Isa. 2:3).
Now in the scriptures there are many, many prophecies of the regathering of the Jews back to Jerusalem, but this prophecy said, “And all nations shall flow unto it.
“… and say … let us go up to the mountain of the Lord[’s house].” (Isa. 2:2–3.)
I think this beautiful temple on this block is the house of the God of Jacob that Isaiah saw.
Jeremiah saw the day when it should no longer be said, “The Lord liveth, which brought up the children of Israel out of the land of Egypt;
“But, The Lord liveth, which brought up and which led the seed of the house of Israel out of … all countries whither I had driven them” (Jer. 23:7–8).
He said that he would send for many fishers and many hunters and they would fish them and hunt them from the hills and the mountains and the holes in the rocks (see Jer. 16:16). They are the thirty-one thousand Mormon missionaries scattered all over the world gathering in the seed of Israel and bringing them to Zion.
He saw how they would be gathered one of a city and two of a family, and the Lord would bring them to Zion, and he would give them pastors after his own heart who should feed them with knowledge and with understanding (see Jer. 3:14–15). Could anybody sit through sessions of this conference and listen to these prophets of the living God and not realize that Jeremiah saw this day when we would come here, gathered one of a city and two of a family, and that He would give us pastors after His own heart?
I love the prophecies of Isaiah. I like the twenty-ninth chapter where he said: “Forasmuch as this people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men:
“Therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvellous work among this people, even a marvellous work and a wonder: for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid.” (Isa. 29:13–14.)
There are no wise men in this world today nor prudent men who can understand all of the prophecies like we Latter-day Saints can because of the restoration of this gospel and the receiving of some of the prophecies that I have already referred to and which have been referred to in this conference.
And then Isaiah in that very same twenty-ninth chapter starts out like this: He said, “Woe to Ariel, to Ariel, the city where David dwelt [that was Jerusalem—that is where David dwelt]! add ye year to year [meaning coming generations]; let them kill sacrifices. And it shall be camped about and it shall be unto me as Ariel” (see Isa. 29:1–3). In other words, not only did Isaiah see the destruction of the great city of Jerusalem, but he also saw the destruction of another great center here in America eleven hundred years after he made that prophecy. We read of that destruction in 2 Nephi 26 and 27, just like when he described the destruction of Babylon a hundred and seventy years before it was destroyed when he said it should never be rebuilt (see Jer. 50:9–13).
Now he said in that chapter that the wisdom of their wise men shall perish and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid. There are so many things that have transpired in this day that the wise men of this world cannot understand. I haven’t time here today to enumerate any more to you, but my heart is full of gratitude to my Heavenly Father and full of testimony by the Holy Spirit of the divinity of this work, and I bear that testimony to you in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, amen.

During her work on both the YWMIA general board and the correlation committees, Sister Funk came to know Sister Hortense H. Child, now her first counselor. Sister Child tells the story of the time she needed to give an important report on short notice. Before coming to the office that day she had forgotten to change from an old pair of gardening shoes. She just traded shoes with Ruth and carried on with her usual poise. But Ruth got even: she was asked in one meeting by the president of the Church to play the piano for an opening song, but she had forgotten her glasses. She just got up from her seat in the audience, and when she passed Sister Child, who was sitting on the aisle, she took off Hortense’s glasses as she swished by, put them on, and read the music without a flaw.

The following summer our acres of alfalfa and barley were a bright green in the middle of that dusty sagebrush landscape. One day in late August, I was irrigating when I saw a powerful dark storm coming. “Oh, no,” I thought, “hail!” I knelt in the field to pray, knowing that our crops could be destroyed. The storm came fast. I could see hail coming down to the north and south of my fields. I walked to our fence line on the north. Hail had fallen just inside the fence line but no farther. I quickly went to our south fence line. There hail had fallen just outside our fence line. Our crops were untouched!
Our neighbors were impressed with how fortunate we had been, and I recalled the words of Malachi that “all nations shall call you blessed” (Malachi 3:12). Truly we had been blessed. I am grateful that as we do our best to obey God’s commands, He keeps His promises.

10. Once when traveling with Elder and Sister Russell M. Nelson, we left our hotel in Bombay, India, to catch a plane for Karachi, Pakistan, and then on to Islamabad. When we got to the chaotic airport, our flight had been canceled. Impatiently, I said to the man at the airline counter, “What do you expect us to do, just give up and go back to the hotel?” He said with great dignity, “Sir, you never go back to the hotel.” We rummaged about the airport, found a flight, kept the appointment in Islamabad, and even had a night’s sleep. Sometimes life is like that: we are left to press forward and endure frustrated expectations—refusing to “go back to the hotel”! Otherwise, such “give-up-itis” will affect all seasons of life. Besides, the Lord knows how many miles we have to go “before [we] sleep”! (“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”).

Early one December afternoon my husband baptized our youngest son. My heart was full as I saw my son’s sweet face reflecting his feelings about this important day. That evening we attended our ward Christmas program and left for home filled with a special Christmas spirit. It had been a wonderful day.
But our feelings of joy were replaced with confusion and anger as we pulled into our driveway and noticed that the glass in the lamp outside our front door had been broken. The lightbulb was smashed, and the rod that earlier had held a bright Christmas bow lay broken on the ground. Along the front of our house hung dripping masses of raw eggs. Bright yellow egg yolk clung to the windows, the eaves, and the siding and smeared the woodwork of our front door. Some of the mess had already solidified in the freezing temperatures. This was not the first time we had been the object of minor vandalism, but it was definitely the worst.
My husband and I hurried our children into the house as they questioned, “Mom, why would anyone do that to us? Don’t they like us?” We calmed the children down, put them to bed, and headed out into the frigid night air to begin the task of scraping and scrubbing off the mess. We knew that if we left it until morning, the paint would be ruined. With frozen hands and angry tempers, we came inside an hour and a half later.
I suddenly remembered that the next day, Sunday, I was supposed to talk to the Primary children about the Savior and his love for us. We were going to discuss ways we could show love to him and our fellowman. I wondered how I could honestly express feelings of love when anger and resentment were racing through my heart. We went to bed that night exhausted and disappointed that such a wonderful day had ended so miserably.
The next morning someone told us who the culprits were. Friends urged us to call the police and report the two boys involved, but my husband and I searched for a better way to handle the situation. We knelt together and asked Heavenly Father to help us do what was best—not just for us, but also for the boys involved. Suddenly, the answer came rushing to us, and a sweet peace replaced our feelings of anger. I was able to go to Primary that day and share with the children my love for the Savior and his guiding influence in our life.
That evening my husband and I piled two plates full of cookies and headed out to talk with the boys and their parents. The first family was new in our neighborhood. We gave the cookies to the boy and told him that we felt this was a better thing to do with eggs. “The next time you get the urge to use some eggs,” we said, “bring them down to our house, and we’ll all make cookies together.”
Sadly, the boy’s father was not receptive to our attempt at reconciliation and told us to take the cookies and go. We left the cookies anyway. As we walked to our car, I started to lose all of my resolve about going to the next house. Frankly, I was a little frightened and very disappointed. I had been so convinced that we were doing the right thing, but now I wasn’t so sure.
However, my husband’s encouragement kept us going. Fortunately, our experience at the next house was somewhat better. This time the boy’s parents expressed appreciation that we had dealt with the problem so understandingly. But the boy flatly denied any part in the egg incident.
We went home, glad of what we had done, but unsure of the result.
One hour later, the second boy, accompanied by his father, knocked on the door and quietly confessed that he and the other boy had been involved. To make up for the mess they had caused, he said he would come to our house the next day after school and clean off any remnants of the eggs he could find.
No apology or attempt at restitution came from the other boy. However, one month later, as Relief Society president, I received the name of a family whose records had just been sent to our ward—it was this boy’s family. I had always made a point of visiting each new sister in our ward as soon as I knew she was here. But this time I was in no hurry to go. “How would she feel about my coming?” I worried. “Would she even let me in?” After procrastinating for a few days, I finally resolved to visit her. With knees shaking and a prayer in my heart, I knocked at her door.
She invited me in, and through the course of our visit we shared our feelings about that night. “You know,” she said, “I almost asked you that night what church you belonged to because I know that’s the way the Lord would have us do things.”
Oh, the joy I felt at that moment. What if we had called the police and had handled the situation in anger? What would this sister’s feelings have been then? How grateful I was that we had listened to and followed the guidance of the Spirit, especially during this season of the Savior’s birth.