Gospel Story Finder

I live in New South Wales, Australia, where we are blessed with some of the most beautiful beaches in the world. Golden sand and crystal blue waters grace our coastlines. A favorite pastime for me and my friends is walking along a nearby beach. While walking we talk and enjoy each other’s company.
One afternoon, when we had enjoyed the day, a friend of mine noticed that a locket I usually wear was missing from around my neck. I was particularly fond of the locket since my grandmother had given it to me as a special birthday present.
I frantically searched up and down the beach looking for my prized possession but to no avail. Soon my friends realized my distress and joined in the search. After searching for a while, one of my friends suggested we have a prayer.
By now it was nearly dusk and the incoming tide was growing higher. Kneeling in the sand, we asked Heavenly Father to guide us to my locket. As we rose one of my friends headed for a part of the beach we had already combed. “It can’t be there,” I said. “We’ve already searched every grain of sand.” Still my friend continued on his way up the beach while the rest of us maintained the search.
The next thing I knew, my friend was running down the beach with a grin from ear to ear. He had found my locket and rescued it from the tide just in time.
It was a simple thing, maybe even a little bit trivial, but Heavenly Father knew it was important to me. Just after we found the locket, I realized something. If Heavenly Father answered a prayer about something as small as a piece of jewelry, surely He would answer prayers about more important things, like times when I need guidance to make good decisions or strengthen my testimony.
Now I know that when I pray, the answers will come. I just have to listen.

My husband and I now have four kids. We’ve learned the dance and the juggle of parenthood. In the beginning, I began most days at 4:00 a.m. to get some painting in before my kids woke up. I tried to paint six days a week, even if some days only allowed 30 minutes. I started each painting session with prayer, knowing I wasn’t much without the Lord’s help. I prayed not only to be enabled in my art but also to know what was most important that day and committed to putting His purposes first. Progress wasn’t fast, but it was steady.

Fast forward 12 years from my graduation day. I was having a moment of discouragement. Life seemed too full. Motherhood had been more challenging than I had anticipated. I sat at my easel crying, wondering if I would ever really be able to become the great artist I had dreamed of being. I felt impressed to pull my old journal off the shelf, and I turned to my entry on April 30, 2006, the day after my graduation. I had totally forgotten my remarkable experience with President Nelson! Somehow the whirlwind of life had almost eroded it from my memory. There before me were words from the current prophet, “Absolutely!” The tears turned to ones of gratitude as I looked back at all I had been able to accomplish since that time, and I also looked forward with hope.

A few months later, I got a call from one of the Ensign magazine’s designers, asking if they could use one of my paintings on the inside cover of the November 2018 general conference issue. I was floored! Growing up, the first thing I had always done when getting the Church magazines was to peruse them for paintings. Now one of my pieces would be in there! Then, when I was told that they wanted to pair my painting with words from President Nelson, I could see the hand of God encouraging me forward.

I still have a long way to go on my artistic journey, but I’m so thankful for President Nelson’s hope in the Lord and in us. I’m thankful for his optimism and his confidence. I know that as we exercise faith in the Lord we will be able to do great things, even things we once thought impossible. “For with God nothing shall be impossible” (Luke 1:37).

Our stake held a missionary-themed youth activity. The stake center was set up like a mini Missionary Training Center. We were trained, and then we went out to help the missionaries share the gospel with people in Chimaltenango.
Some people received us well, but others got upset, lied about their phone number and address, or hid. Sometimes we got discouraged, but then we met people who did want to hear and who were maybe even touched by our message. Even if I didn’t change their lives, my testimony grew.

The first principle that I will share is to enthusiastically and righteously continue your quest for knowledge. Two of my heroes in this category are Hans Sloane and Paul Cox. Many years ago, I was visiting London with my family. We stayed in a flat in Sloane Square. There is a statue of Sir Hans Sloane in the center of the square. As a young man in the mid-1600s, Hans Sloane became a physician and then developed a strong interest in botany. The 17th century physician used herbal remedies. Medications were primarily herbal and not based on chemistry as they are today.

In 1687 Sloane accompanied the Duke of Albemarle to Jamaica as his personal physician. He catalogued the flora and fauna of Jamaica and identified about 800 new species of plants.

In Jamaica Sloane noticed that the people drank cocoa, which he found “nauseous.” Sloane experimented with making medicines acceptable to children by mixing them with milk and honey. He mixed the cocoa with milk and sugar and found that it was delicious. Sloane became wealthy when he sold his recipe for milk chocolate.

What is most interesting to me is that Sloane used much of that money to collect botanical and other specimens with which he had become intrigued as a young physician. He bought people’s collected specimens from all over the world and he put together an enormous collection. When he died, he made provision for his collection to become the property of the British nation. That was the beginning of the British Museum.[3]

The second example is Paul Cox. He is still living and is an active member of the Church. He received a Bachelor of Science degree from Brigham Young University in Botany and achieved other post graduate degrees. He is a long-time friend of your president, John Tanner since they were both professors at BYU. He served a mission in Samoa and later lived with his family on Savai’i in Samoa for many years. One of his focuses was ethnomedicine where he studied some of the plants that had been used by generations of Samoan mothers to treat health issues. With a co-author, he wrote Plants, People, and Culture: The Science of Ethnobotany.[4] He has made several breakthroughs in treating diseases. While he has done many things in his exceptional career, the one I wish to mention occurred many years ago. Paul and a Samoan chief, Fuiono Senio, conducted ethnobotanical research in the village of Falealupo, Western Samoa. In an account by Julie Walker in BYU Magazine, she reports, “The village had reluctantly licensed its forest to a logging company to raise funds to build a school, because, says Cox, ‘They felt they had to choose between their children and their forest, which was a terrible, terrible decision for them.’ When he learned of the transaction with the logging company, Cox told the chiefs he would personally pay to build the school if they would stop the logging of the rain forest.”[5] He did build the school with the help of businessmen who had connections with Samoa.[6] Brother Cox has received many honors and awards including the Goldman Environmental Prize for grassroots environmental heroes.

Sloane and Cox represent a continuing quest for knowledge to bless mankind.

When I asked about the bright blue table in the middle of Adriana’s kitchen, I learned that there was a time she had no table at all. Struggling to make ends meet, she took one of the Church’s self-reliance courses and decided that she could bake and sell bread—if only she had a table. She prayed for help and built a table from scrap wood.
One of the things I needed most in that moment was a table. The table I had, had fallen apart. Someone had given me some pieces of wood because they knew I didn’t have money, but I had some little chickens and could possibly use the wood to build a chicken coop. I prayed to know what to do. I felt I should call a carpenter friend to see what we could do with it. He said, “Let’s build you a table.” That’s what I needed.
Everything I have asked from my heart, He has heard me. He has heard me because He knew it was good for me. Now we have two tables. This table is central to our family. We sit here to share. We work here. We teach what we have learned to others here. Through self-reliance, I learned to value myself. I discovered talents that God has given to me to help me and my family. I try to pass on what I have learned to my sisters in Relief Society, to help them to value themselves as daughters of God. I am grateful I am able to bless those around me.
You feel good when you realize all that God has given you and you can turn around and use it to help others. We need to develop every talent we have so that we can share with others.
The day begins early for Adriana as she prepares dough for the bread she will bake and sell. All day long the kitchen table serves as a gathering place for the González family.
Feeding the chickens is part of running Adriana’s small business. Their eggs provide an essential ingredient in her bread.
The loaves Adriana sells help her family become more self-reliant by increasing the family income. She sets a few loaves aside to share with her family.
Adriana delivers fresh bread to her neighbors.

I speak next to those who are trapped in traditions.

When I met John Raass, he was not yet a member of the Church. His wife, Kailani, had catered a dinner for the stake presidency, and we invited them to join us. John appeared weary of entering a spiritual discussion, but I assured him we would become fast friends. You see, John was a former BYU football star, and I grew up cheering for him. We eventually asked John why he had never joined the Church. He cited the need to honor the faith traditions of his now deceased parents. We helped him realize that they now understood the Church and they would honor his decision. John then chose to meet with the missionaries. Two months later he was baptized. And a year later his family was sealed in the temple.

Too often we wish away our present good in pursuit of fairy tale futures, only to learn that we long for the past. My beautiful wife and I have six children, and I remember many nights when one or more of them woke us up for various reasons. Normally they visit my wife’s side of the bed when sick and my side when they need a snuggle. My sweetheart has even been on the wrong side of a vomiting child more than once!

At the time, I remember thinking that I couldn’t wait until they slept through the night so we could get a good night’s rest. Now that our oldest is 17, preparing to leave on a mission, and our youngest starts kindergarten this year, my perspective has changed.

When Adalyn wakes up needing Daddy to give her a snuggle, I relish those moments and wish that I had had the same perspective with each of our older kids.

Prior to COVID, modern society was moving at an ever-increasing rate, and our daily lives were perpetually hectic. It felt like a competition to see who had the longest to-do list. Thankfully, the early days of COVID forced us to slow down. It may not have seemed like a blessing to many, but my family benefited from time spent together, focusing on what really matters.

Our daughter, Grace, turned eight during the lockdown and was excited for her baptism. We were only authorized to have the service with one member of the bishopric to preside and not more than 10 family members. This temporary restriction allowed us to really focus on the covenant and ordinance of baptism with our daughter and was a simple, powerful, spiritual experience.

“Cami asked me if I wanted to go to church. At first I thought, no, I didn’t really want to. Then I decided that since I hadn’t been baptized into any church, I ought to start looking around and seeing what I believe in. I went with Cami, and the things I was taught I believed, so I started going to church more often. When I had the missionary lessons, I felt I was ready to be baptized.”
Tami HowellLong Beach California East Stake

How do three lovely young ladies who are completely deaf speak fluently with confidence and joy?
The answer? With patient faith, hard work, and tender help from parents, sisters, teachers, and their Heavenly Father.
The Ferguson sisters, Deborah, 23, Julie-Ann, 18, and Heather, 15 are from Bangor Branch, Belfast Northern Ireland Stake, and were born with hearing impairments. Two more sisters, Amanda, 22, and Gail, 20, along with parents Peter and Lillian have normal hearing. The girls’ grandparents were also born deaf and mute.
But communication is no problem for this outstanding family. Trust in the Lord and determination are working miracles in their lives.
Proof of this is abundant in Deborah’s many achievements. Her happy personality and eagerness to live life to the fullest have overcome some hearing problems. Since graduating from seminary, she has participated in the Church Scouting program, serving in assistant leadership positions.
Among other hard-earned awards are trophies of all shapes and sizes for numerous sports, including soccer, badminton, squash, and swimming.
“When we held a youth dance festival,” said Young Women president Sister Geddis, “Deborah was the best at keeping on the beat, moving perfectly with the music.” Deborah explains, “Although I can’t hear sound, I feel vibrations through the floor, and with care I can dance as well as anyone else.”
Whether dancing or studying, no obstacles will prevent Deborah from enjoying every program the Church has to offer. “I hope to be a missionary,” she says. “I love to serve and have a great desire to spread the gospel amongst other people with hearing disabilities.”
Her younger sister Amanda feels the same way. Although able to hear perfectly herself, she has seen her family achieve goals they have set and she is determined to help others less fortunate. She is taking a three-year university course in sign language for the deaf so that she will be qualified to interpret and teach.
“I’d like to begin by sharing the gospel with my grandparents, aunt, and uncles who are also deaf,” Amanda explains. “I feel they’re missing so much. I’d love to help them learn the truth.”
Learning plays an important part in sister Gail’s life too—especially in seminary. “It’s a great program. I gain such a lot. Reading the experiences of people in the scriptures has helped me appreciate my own family and their present struggles.”
Gail has an outstanding talent for dealing with children. Acting as “ears” for younger sisters for many years, she has developed patience, kindness, and sharp sensitivity to others’ needs.
Those listening ears are greatly missed by Julie-Ann and Heather for many months each year. These two leave home and family behind and attend school at the renowned Mary Hare United Kingdom Grammar School for the Deaf in Newbury, England. Due to the high academic standards, for one pupil to be accepted at this outstanding school is an accomplishment, but for two from the same family to attend is almost a miracle.
“Letting the children be educated so far away has been a traumatic experience for us all,” Brother Ferguson says. “But through prayer we found comfort and confirmation that our decision was right.”
“We all send letters once or twice a week,” says Julie-Ann, “and there’s a special telephone at school which allows three-way conversations between pupil, interpreter, and parent, so we don’t have to go too long without help from home on any problem.”
“Brother and Sister Williams from Newbury Branch pick us up for church each Sunday,” says Heather. “We enjoy that. There’s a lovely feeling among the members.”
“I love learning everything I can about the Savior and his church,” says Julie-Ann. “I do home-study seminary, and it always helps me. I find sacrament meetings a bit frustrating sometimes, especially when I can’t understand every word the speakers say. People are kind and write things down for me, but often speakers go too fast for me to get all the details.”
Both girls are excellent lip readers, however. In addition, they use hearing aids. They are becoming so expert at understanding others that they are even learning another language—French. “It’s difficult,” says Heather. “I have to concentrate much harder than students with normal hearing.”
Reading music has been part of their lives since infancy. “Our mother used to point out how notes go up and down in hymnbooks at church,” says Julie-Ann, “and if the congregation doesn’t sing louder than the piano, I can pick out the beat and sing hymns.”
“We play recorders the same way,” comments Heather. “I feel pulsation of sound through my feet and legs, and with plenty of practice, we get the tunes right. We have a good orchestra here.”
Although Julie-Ann, Heather, and Deborah use their talents to achieve results in life equal to, and often better than, those of people without hearing impairments, they are sometimes disappointed and hurt by the attitudes of many people towards their disability.
“I prefer to be treated just like everyone else,” Heather says. “It’s really embarrassing when I’m in a crowd and someone starts speaking to me very slowly, waving their arms to emphasize what they are saying. It’s as if they think I am stupid and couldn’t understand them otherwise.”
“Yes,” agrees Julie-Ann, “it’s nice to be accepted as part of the group, spoken to normally, and not stared at as if we’re odd. I often feel like telling people, ‘I’m exactly the same inside as you are.’ It makes me heartbroken and depressed when they are afraid or don’t want to understand me.”
“That’s right,” Heather adds. “I don’t always understand a question the first time someone asks. If I ask them to repeat it, they often say, ‘Oh, never mind,’ and go away! I’d rather they try again and again, so we can learn about each other. I don’t like brief conversations with only ‘Hi!’ or ‘How are you doing?’ I’d prefer to talk properly, long discussions, not too fast or too slow, but real conversations with facial expression and feeling.”
Perhaps because of a certain isolation that deafness creates for them, all three girls have developed a close, personal relationship with their Heavenly Father.
“I talk to the Lord in prayer much of the time,” says Julie-Ann. “I feel the presence of the Holy Spirit strongly and am constantly grateful for the promptings I receive. We watched a video of general conference. During remarks about keeping high standards and avoiding friendships with the wrong crowd, I felt so warm inside as the Spirit testified this was important advice. I could have cried. I didn’t want that wonderful feeling to go away.”
The Fergusons seem to be a part of fulfilling prophecy. In Isaiah 29:18, the prophet wrote, “In that day shall the deaf hear the words of the book.” [Isa. 29:18] Not only are the Fergusons hearing the truth of the gospel themselves, they are becoming well educated and prepared to share those words with all who care to listen with ears, eyes, hands, and hearts.

Women and men who can hear the voice of the Lord, and who respond to those promptings, become invaluable instruments in His hands. I will never forget an experience I had following a stake conference. I was asked to participate in a blessing for a young woman your age who was suffering with cancer. The family were converts, and they had found peace through the promptings of the Spirit. Prior to our giving the blessing, this dear sister said to me: “Elder Ballard, I am not afraid to die, but I would like to live here with my family. I am prepared to accept the will of my Father in Heaven. Please bless me to find peace and to know that He will be with me.” What faith, insight, and courage the Spirit had blessed her with! A few months later the family advised me that Heavenly Father had called her home. She died in peace, and the family lived in peace because they were familiar with the Spirit. One of the sweetest messages the Spirit will relay is how the Lord feels about you. And that reassurance will strengthen you in a way that almost nothing else can.

The first principle is to have a feeling of gratitude to Heavenly Father during the sacrament for the Atonement of His Son. The following story is told about passing the sacrament:
“The sacrament never really meant much to me until the Sunday I was ordained a deacon. That afternoon I passed the sacrament for the first time. Prior to the meeting, one of the deacons warned me, ‘Look out for Brother Schmidt. You may have to wake him up!’ Finally the time came for me to participate in the passing of the sacrament. I handled the first six rows quite well. Children and adults partook of the bread with no noticeable thought or problem. Then I got to row seven, the row where Brother Schmidt always sat. But I was surprised. Instead of being asleep he was wide awake. Unlike many of the others I had served, he took the bread with what seemed to be great thought and reverence.
“A few minutes later I found myself again approaching row seven with the water. This time my friend was right. Brother Schmidt sat with his head bowed and his big German eyes shut. He was evidently sound asleep. What could I do or say? I looked for a moment at his brow, wrinkled and worn from years of toil and hardship. He had joined the Church as a teenager and had experienced much persecution in his small German town. I had heard the story many times in testimony meeting. I decided finally to gently nudge his shoulder in hopes of waking him. As I reached to do so, his head slowly lifted. There were tears streaming down his cheeks and as I looked into his eyes I saw love and joy. He quietly reached up and took the water. Even though I was only twelve then, I can still remember vividly the feeling I had as I watched this rugged old man partake of the sacrament. I knew without a doubt that he was feeling something about the sacrament that I had never felt. I determined then that I wanted to feel those same feelings.”4
Brother Schmidt had communicated with heaven, and heaven had communicated with him.

While in Hawaii, Joseph experienced hardship after hardship. At one point in his mission, his apartment and all his belongings were consumed in a fire. The only thing he had left was his missionary certificate, which had been miraculously preserved. Because of the fire, Joseph and his companion only had one suit between the two of them. This situation called for a creative solution. Since both elders couldn’t proselyte at the same time, one would go out proselyting in the suit, while the other one stayed home. Then they would switch clothes and the other would begin his turn proselyting.

Joseph once said that “experience is better possessed than to be gained. It is like a bruise, it feels better after it quits hurting” (Life of Joseph F. Smith, 188). After his mission, Joseph must have felt like he had a lot of “bruises.” But because of his faith, he was able to turn his trials into learning experiences that forced him to rely on the Lord for strength. And it was because of his reliance on the Lord that he could stand fearless when asked at gunpoint, “Are you a Mormon?”

First, my mom is a speech-langauge pathologist. Basically, she helps little kids talk better. That also means that as part of her job she works with a variety of kids with developmental and cognitive delays. She works in special educaiton classrooms. For most of her life in the church, she's been called to the Primary. And she's always given the class that no one else can control. Once she had a class of twelve kids, three of whom had ADHD. And she was their teacher for two years because no one else could handle them. When a boy with Down's syndrome arrived in the nursery, Mom was put in nursery. And when he moved to Sunbeams, so did she. That's happened to her so many times, she's lost track. But because of her degree, her training, she's better able to serve in the chruch.

1 Once upon a time there lived a dinosaur. He was a brontosaur and his name was Ben. Ben was sad and went all around the lake wishing he had something to do.
2 One day he saw a pretty girl dinosaur. She was a brontosaur too. He was surprised!
3 He shyly nodded his head. “What is your name?” he asked politely.
“My name is Sabrina,” she said.
4 Tyrannosaurus Rex was king of the meat-eating dinosaurs because he was the biggest. He was mean and often ate other dinosaurs.
One day he started to attack Sabrina while she was eating leaves off a tree. She had not seen him.
5 Ben liked Sabrina so he quickly ran up to Rex and shouted loudly, “Ha-a-a-a-a-a-a-h!”
6 Then he yelled to Sabrina, “Run fast to the water!”
7 Ben surprised Rex so much that he tripped and fell over a cliff into a mud puddle! Rex didn’t bother Ben or Sabrina ever again.
Sabrina said, “You’re so brave! Will you marry me?”
8 Ben became shy again, bowed his head and said, “A-a-um, I—I g—guess sooo!”
And they lived happily ever after together by the lake.

Years ago I was admitted to a graduate program for which I was poorly prepared. The competition was fierce. On the first day the professor said, “Look at the person on your left and on your right. One of the three of you will not be here at the end.” The schedule of classes filled the five weekdays from early until late. Preparations for the next day’s classes lasted until nearly midnight, often beyond. And then late on Friday a major paper was assigned, with no way to prepare until the assignment was given and with the paper due at nine o’clock on Saturday night.
I can still remember the hours of frantic study and writing on those Saturdays. And as the nine o’clock deadline approached, crowds of students would stand around the slot in the wall of the library to cheer as the last desperate student would dash up to throw in his completed paper, just before the box inside the building was pulled away. Then the students would go back to their homes and to their rooms for a few hours of celebration before starting preparations for Monday classes. Most of them would study all day on Sunday and late into the night.
For me, there was no party on Saturday and no studying on Sunday. The Lord gave me an opportunity to test His promise. Early in that year He called me, through a humble district president, to Church service that took me across the hills of New England from the early hours of Sunday to late in the evening, visiting the tiny branches and the scattered Latter-day Saints in the area. I found joy in going to those places, loving the Lord, and trusting that somehow He would keep His promise. He always did. In the few minutes I could give to preparation on Monday morning before classes, ideas and understanding came to more than match what others gained from a Sunday of study.

A few years ago I traveled to Italy. Our plane arrived in Rome in the early afternoon, but we had been traveling all night and were exhausted. But we knew if we had a nap, we would make our jet lag worse. So my friend and I decided to go exploring for the rest of the evening and then come back to the hotel and go to bed at the proper time.
We left our hotel, hopped onto the metro, and went exploring. We explored several areas of the city, had a fabulous dinner, and visited St. Peter's Basilica at sunset. It was a great evening, and we were happy but exhausted when we got back on the metro to return to our hotel.
When we got off the metro, we pulled out our map so we could reorient ourselves and walk the right direction back to the hotel. But nothing looked familiar. And we couldn't find any street names we were seeing on the street on our map. The name of the metro station was correct, but nothing else matched up with our map. By this point, it was dark, the neighborhood felt a little sketchy, we had been up for over 36 hours, and we were tired.
We decided to walk in a circle around the metro station. We figured if we did that, we had to find a road name that matched our map somewhere, so we could figure out where we were. But after looking for 20 minutes or so and not being able to orient ourselves with our maps, we were getting worried. We hadn't found anyone we could ask for directions, and we were completely lost. So I prayed.
After praying, we walked for another block, and, to our great joy, we saw two sister missionaries walking towards us! As we went up to them, we were so excited to find out they spoke English, were from Idaho and Utah, and would be able to help us.
Before I finish our end of the story, let me tell you the story from the sister missionaries' point of view. They told us that they had been at appointments that evening, but as they rode the bus back toward their apartment, a man came up to them and started talking to them. He was making comments that were unkind and crude. When they got off the bus, he followed them. They tried to lose him by going into a convenience store, but when they came out, they found he had waited for them and was following them again.
The sister missionaries didn't dare go back to their apartment, because this man was with them, and they didn't want him to know where they lived. They knew from his comments that he wasn't safe. They didn't know what to do. So they said a prayer. That's when they saw two tourists from Idaho coming up to them.
After we approached the sister missionaries, the man following them left. We didn't see him again that night. We explained our predicament and showed the missionaries our map. They explained that the metro station had two exits. The exit we had used wasn't on our map, which is why we were so confused. The other exit (the one we had entered earlier in the day) was several blocks away. But their apartment was right next to our hotel, and we all happily agreed to walk back together. They showed us how to get to our hotel. We made sure the man didn't follow them home.
I love this experience because the Lord literally directed our path. Quite literally. But it also shows figuratively three ways that the Lord directs our paths.

In Farmington, Utah, there lived a good man named Bob Hasenyager, who was not yet a member of the Church. His wife, Marlene, was devoted to the gospel. She honored her covenants quietly and patiently, never pressuring—only loving. Bob was serving and helping in the local ward. One day the stake president asked Bob, “Are you aware that your wife longs to attend the temple but still waits, not wanting to hurt you?”
Bob wept when he was told this. Then he gave his full support. Marlene received her endowment and began attending the temple regularly. Bob noticed something different: not pressure, not argument, but peace. Then one day a young missionary simply suggested Bob be baptized on a specific date. In Bob’s words: “I felt the Holy Ghost. I felt warmth and joy and peace. I finally had my answer.” Bob was baptized. He was later diagnosed with terminal cancer. He and Marlene were sealed four months before he passed away.

Some of my personal feelings were very spiritual. To look down on the earth from space is absolutely incredible. I knew ahead of time just exactly what I was going to see. I was intellectually prepared, but I was not prepared emotionally for what I saw. The world is very large. I knew that. But to see this huge, magnificent sphere slowly rotating beneath me was overwhelming. I have no ability to describe what it was really like, and no photographic emulsion can even start to do it justice. The visibility, of course, was excellent. But I was amazed at the intensity of the colors. I estimated that there were twenty shades of intense blue as the earth’s atmosphere changes from the gray of the curved horizon into the incredible black void of space. And when you look at an archipelago of islands, there are hundreds of shades of blue and green and yellow tan that are just beyond description.
The first time I had a minute to stop and just look at the earth, the absolute beauty of the scene brought tears to my eyes. In weightlessness tears do not just quietly roll down your cheeks. They stay in front of your eyeballs and get bigger and bigger and in a few moments you feel like a guppy looking up through the surface of the aquarium.
Now, try to imagine what it was like for me to have that scene in front of me and then have the fragments of half a dozen scriptures pop into my mind. “The heavens declare the glory of God.” (Ps. 19:1.) If you have seen the heavens, you have “seen God moving in his majesty and power.” (D&C 88:47.) I am sure you can imagine the closeness I felt to my Father in Heaven as I looked down at one of His beautiful creations. I was really stirred by an increased awareness of what He did for us as the Creator of our earth. That was one of the most moving experiences of my life.

In 2009, shortly after Bro Beharrell’s passing, June records. “I was lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, but instead of shedding tears, I thought, ‘I am going to the market on Saturday, and I am going to collect for the Severn Hospice just as Gordon would have done.’”
From 2009, June continued to collect donations in Shrewsbury Market by sitting in the hall entrance from 9 am until 2:30 pm almost every Friday and Saturday, whatever the weather or temperature. In the winter, when the cold wind would blow through the entrance, June would take a rug to keep warm. In 2020, amidst the COVID-19 national lockdown, June was not able to collect in the market, so her family helped her set up an online fundraising account which proved very successful.
Now that things have been returning to normal, June has returned to the market to continue collecting donations. Kate Gittins, Shrewsbury’s market hall manager said: “The market’s customers love her; for some, she has become their confidante, for others, particularly those visiting the market for the first time, she provides a warm welcome with her charming smile and generosity of spirit.” The Shropshire Star reported that “her fundraising over the years has helped to fund the general running costs of the hospice and enhanced the care of thousands of people over the years.”

Beginning a number of years ago, a young woman, Kathy Conwell, collected angels to put on a special Christmas tree she had at home. Kathy was a lovely young woman, a college student who learned that she had a very violent aggressive form of cancer. She had been told that she would not live long but that medical science would do everything it could to assist her, and she also received several blessings. Her collection eventually grew to 156 angels, covering a six-foot tree with lights and these special decorations. Kathy and her mother, Joy Conwell, would go to yard sales, post-Christmas sales, and anywhere little angels could be located. At her untimely death in October 1996, she asked her mother to distribute these angels to her friends. I was blessed to receive one of them. I have kept it in my office now for more than 400 days. She is now an angel herself. Her generosity goes on blessing us all.