Gospel Story Finder

From the pages of our missionary journal comes an event repeated often throughout the missions of the Church. John and Shirley Withers were successful advertising executives. They were on the fast track, indulging themselves in worldly pleasures. When contacted by our missionaries, they were impressed by their clean, sparkling countenances so unlike other young men they had known.
As the Spirit touched their hearts, the conversion miracle began. Their previous behavior became incompatible with gospel principles. A new set of priorities and values replaced worldly interests. Alcohol and tobacco habits became expendable, although with great effort. Modesty became the dress standard. Prayer, scripture study, and Relief Society and priesthood service became the focus. They were baptized and received the Holy Ghost.
As Sister Clarke and I, with some of our missionaries, assembled in the Salt Lake Temple, John and Shirley Withers, with their children, were sealed together as an eternal family. Their countenances reflected the resplendent beauty of the emancipation of the soul. We witnessed a spiritual rebirth as if from the grave.

One Sunday afternoon, I began thinking about Jesus Christ and His atoning sacrifice. Those thoughts helped me feel safe and sound.
Suddenly, however, I remembered the rising cases of COVID-19 in my country. Immediately, I felt sadness for people worldwide who were suffering. I said to myself, “They don’t feel the same security and peace that I do.” Those feelings brought me to my knees, and I began to pray.
I prayed for those who had died, as well as for those who had lost loved ones. I wept for them because I know the pain that comes with losing someone you love. During the COVID-19 global pandemic, many have carried alone the burden of losing a loved one.
Then my thoughts turned to my mother, who had passed away when I was five years old. As tears continued to run down my cheeks, I prayed to Heavenly Father about how much I missed her. Then I remembered that Jesus wept with Mary and Martha after Lazarus, their brother and His friend, had died (see John 11:19–35). His compassion comforted me, but the tears still came as I thought of how much I missed my mother.
As I continued to pray, I included my mom in my prayer. I thought of her and imagined her in front of me. I told Heavenly Father how much I loved her and missed her. I thanked Him for the time I had with my mom in this world. I miss her, but I believe that one day we will meet again and be together as a family forever.
I paused, and my heart filled with hope. I prayed to Heavenly Father to bless my father and me to endure until we could see my mom again. Then I shed tears of joy and hope for that glorious gathering made possible through the Savior’s Resurrection.
I feel immense gratitude to Heavenly Father for the plan of salvation. The death of my mother was painful, but my pain has been “swallowed up in the joy of Christ” (Alma 31:38). I am grateful for Him. He renews my hope in the life to come. His Resurrection means more to me now than ever. I will see my mother again because of my Savior.

When my mom and I were shopping, she said I could buy something with my own money. I had 10 dimes. I found a bottle of bubbles and was excited to buy it. When we got to the checkout my mom paid for everything, even the bubbles. I didn’t give the dimes to my mom, and she didn’t ask for them. Later that week my mom asked me to do some extra chores. I did them, and my mom gave me two quarters for doing a good job. When I went to put away my new quarters, I saw the 10 dimes. I took them out of my bank and gave them to my mom. I told her they were for my bubbles she bought at the store. I felt good inside for choosing the right by being honest, and doing what Jesus would want me to do.

Allie was so happy that she felt bouncy!
She got in the car to ride home.
“Today was great!” she told Mom. “We drew pictures. And I met a new teacher. Her name is Miss Gregg. Now I have two teachers!”
Allie had been in kindergarten for three weeks. She loved everything. Activities. Projects. Lunchtime with friends. Her teacher, Mrs. Coleman. And now she had another teacher, Miss Gregg. It was perfect!
“Wait,” Mom said. “You aren’t going to have two teachers. Just one. Miss Gregg is your new teacher. That’s why you went to her class today.”
Allie frowned. “What?” Her bouncy feeling popped like a balloon.
“Mrs. Coleman’s class was too big,” Mom said. “The school chose you for a new class.”
Allie thought about her friends in Mrs. Coleman’s class. “I don’t think the class was too big.”
“You’ll have fun in your new class,” Mom said.
But Allie didn’t want a new class. She would miss Mrs. Coleman and her new friend Caitlin. This morning school was perfect. Now it was ruined.
At bedtime Allie kneeled to pray.
“Why don’t you ask Heavenly Father to help you in your new class?” Mom said.
“Dear Heavenly Father,” Allie said, “please help me have fun at school.” She started to feel a little better. But she was still nervous.
The next morning more worries filled her head. Will I like my new class? Will I see my friends? But new thoughts came too. I can be brave. Heavenly Father will help me.
After school, Allie was happy.
“How was your day?” Mom asked.
“Great!” Allie said. She climbed into the car. “Miss Gregg is really nice. I saw Caitlin on the playground. And I got to make a goody bag!”
“That does sound like a good day,” Mom said.
Allie smiled. “Heavenly Father answered my prayer!”

After Brigham Young had been called as President of the Church, John Taylor received a call to go to New York to organize and publish a newspaper. This newspaper, the Mormon, was to inform people about the Church.
Brigham Young: Brother Taylor, we need you to go to New York and publish a newspaper to help people understand us.
Elder Taylor, his oldest son, George, and his nephew, Angus Cannon, set up the Mormon office between two New York City newspapers, the Herald and the Tribune.
John: Here we are, in the middle of two great newspapers.
When Elder John Taylor returned to Europe on a mission, he published the Book of Mormon and other Church writings in both French and German.
John: Now more people can read the gospel in their own language.
Because of his gift and talent of communication and his diligence, he was able to help many people understand the truth of the Church.

One more illustration. A number of years ago, while presiding over the Texas North Mission, I had occasion to fly from Dallas to Lubbock, and as I boarded the plane I looked for someone interesting to sit by. Upon entering the plane I saw a young lady seated by herself reading the Bible. At first I thought she was a lady missionary en route home from her mission; however, as I looked more closely I could see that her Bible was not the King James version. So I asked if she minded if I sat by her. She invited me to do so. Once into the air, I commented that it appeared as if she loved the scriptures. In response she held up the book and shook it in my face and said, “Mister, that book saved my life. It means everything to me.”

Then she proceeded to tell me her story. Among other things she had been a dropout from her family, school, and church. In fact, she confessed that her life had become so sordid and confused that she had even entertained the idea of committing suicide. When life seemed darkest someone introduced her to the Bible, and it was the word of the Lord that turned her around. I was touched by her testimony.

In the middle of our conversation the pilot announced that Lubbock was overcast with heavy clouds and that our destination had been changed. This announcement disappointed everyone. Quietly and privately I prayed that the clouds would lift and that we would be able to land in Lubbock. I had a very special meeting that I needed to attend. A few minutes later, the pilot again interrupted the conversation by announcing that the storm had moved on and that we would land in Lubbock as scheduled. Everyone cheered. I turned to my traveling companion and said, “Now, there’s a quick answer to a prayer.”

“Oh,” she replied, “were you praying, too?” For the rest of my life I will wonder whose prayer was heard, whose faith worked the miracle.

When President Spencer W. Kimball was nine years old, his job on the family farm was milking from two to nine cows every day. Milking cows can become boring, so he thought of things to do while he milked that were interesting and good and fun. He practiced squirting a stream of milk into the mouths of the cats that gathered around at milking time. He memorized every word of the Articles of Faith and the Ten Commandments to the beat of milk squirts hitting the pail. He copied most of the songs in the hymnbook on sheets of paper and memorized them. On a one-legged stool, his head pressed against a cow’s side, he sang them to the cows.

President Kimball made his inner temple brighter and kept his spirit free by filling his mind with worthwhile things while he worked. Can you do the same?

The Primary has played an important part in helping to bring many people into the Church in Puerto Rico. In 1964 a family moved to Ponce, Puerto Rico. Because there was no organized branch in this city, the family held services in their own home, including a Home Primary for the three children. Several other children started attending this Primary. Because they did, these children and also their parents were baptized. This was the beginning of a branch in Ponce.

Photo illustration by Ilda Masa/iStock/Thinkstock
On the first morning of our vacation, my family and I went snowboarding. After several runs and then lunch, my father, my older brother, and I decided to try a new trail. We snowboarded for quite some time through unfamiliar territory, encountering strange obstacles that you wouldn’t normally find on a regular ski trail. We weaved through trees and pushed through the endless snow until we discovered we’d taken a wrong turn at the top of the mountain. Now near the bottom of the canyon, we realized we were lost.
We were standing in three feet of snow, and aside from the few pine trees that dotted the canyon, everything was white. We had no idea where to go. It was three o’clock in the afternoon; in a few hours, the sun would set and temperatures would drop dramatically. Plus, the ski patrol went home at four o’clock. If we didn’t get help soon, we’d have to spend the night in the freezing cold, stranded in a snowy canyon without food, water, or clothes that would keep us warm enough through the night. I didn’t even want to think about what might happen to us.
We knew that contacting Mom was the only way we’d get out of the canyon that night. So we got out our phone, but we didn’t have any reception and the battery was almost dead. We adjusted the settings on the phone so an alarm would go off if we got to a place with service, and then we wandered anxiously as the sun sank lower behind the mountain.
As it got darker and colder, our chances for survival seemed to decrease. I began to worry. “What if we don’t make it out tonight?” I thought. Feeling overwhelmed and scared, the three of us offered a prayer to Heavenly Father asking for safety and for the comfort of the Holy Ghost. We asked Heavenly Father to help us find our way out of the canyon, to meet our physical needs, and to allow us to contact help.
As we opened our eyes, we saw a small trail, and the Holy Ghost prompted us to follow it south. Hiking through three feet of snow in winter gear is not an easy task, but we felt God’s merciful hand pushing us forward.
We reached the top of a small hill, and the phone beeped. We didn’t dare move from where we stood. Carefully, I pulled out the phone and sent Mom a message explaining our dire situation and asking her to contact the ski patrol.
By this point, the sun had almost disappeared behind the mountain. Temperatures averaged -25º Fahrenheit (-32º C) and were dropping fast. We were wet, cold, and tired, and we still had no idea where to go. “We could die out here,” I thought.
Then we heard voices—people were yelling for us! We yelled back and waved our arms around to try to get their attention. The ski patrol followed the sound of our voices until they saw us. They led us safely out of the canyon, and we were reunited with Mom, who waited just outside the mouth of the canyon. We had been saved.
As soon as I sat down, my tired body collapsed, the setting sun disappeared behind distant mountains, and my cell phone’s battery died. Heavenly Father had given us just enough energy and time to safely make it out of the canyon. He had heard our prayers and granted them to the fullest.
I am so grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who hears our prayers and watches over us.

His finest moment on the court came in Laramie, Wyoming. The Cougars had just won their second WAC (Western Athletic Conference) crown, and he had been a starter in every game for those two glorious years. As the players were interviewed on regional television, Devin had a chance to respond to questions about his future. I don’t recall his exact words, but I’ll never forget his fervor as he explained, “Next week I’ll send my application in to serve a two-year mission for the Mormon church. I’m going to be a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
When asked why he would leave his most promising career, he replied, “God has given me so much. I just want to go out and do something for him.”
At that moment I remembered the words he had said to me as a little boy at the football game: “Dad, you do so much for me. Isn’t there something that I can do for you?”
And my reply: “Just be my son.”
As he stood on the basketball court in Laramie, I felt I almost heard the Lord say, “Devin, just be my son. Just be my son.”

I came through Denver some years ago, and a stake president asked me if I would interview a man whom he had placed under some sanctions. It seems that this brother would attend fast and testimony meeting, and as soon as testimony time came he would arise and take the entire period, every Sunday. No one else could say a word. He consistently preached what he called his four basic “doctrines.” (I call them ideas.) First, he said, divorce is not approved of God; therefore the Lord does not recognize divorce. Second, he said, meat should not be eaten—not at all, none! Third, he said, polygamy was not ordained of God. Fourth, he said it was an angel of the devil, not an angel of the Lord, who told Nephi to slay Laban. They could not deter him. He believed the gospel, yes, and he requested a temple recommend, but they couldn’t issue the temple recommend because he had problems with his basic beliefs. They had forbidden him to speak in testimony meeting, but he did the same thing in priesthood meeting. As soon as a question came up, he immediately jumped up and took the whole time, preaching these doctrines. So they were having membership attendance problems at all the meetings where he was present.
Since he had had sanctions placed upon him, he felt his rights had been violated and he was appealing to the President of the Church. When I came through they asked me if would interview him. I did. It was a most interesting interview. He had much scripture to back up these particular points. I said, “Where did you get these ideas?”
He said, “The Holy Ghost gave them to me.”
I said, “How did he give them to you?”
He said, “Well, he came to me, and I talked with him.”
I said, “Did you see him?”
He said, “Yes.”
I said, “What did he look like?”
He said, “He looked like lightning.”
I said, “He looked like lightning? Was it sheet lightning, or snake lightning?” That made him a little angry. I tried to kid him a little bit because I couldn’t believe he was really serious about this!
He said, “He looked like lightning.”
I asked, “Was this in the daytime or nighttime?”
He said, “The nighttime.”
I said, “Were there any thunderstorms in the area?” Once again, he didn’t appreciate my implication. I could see he was serious about what he was talking about. He went through the scriptures to educate me that these were true doctrines and that the Holy Ghost had called him on a mission to preach these four things. I said, “Well, have you ever had any other experiences like this?”
He said, “Yes, when they dedicated the chapel here (the stake center), I saw the Father and the Son and my grandfather standing above the pulpit.”
I said, “Well now, your grandfather was in some pretty high-class company, wasn’t he?”
“Yes, he was, as a matter of fact.”
Well, this man had good reasons for all of his beliefs. When he started to tell me about divorce I was impressed to ask him, “Have you ever been divorced?”
And he said yes, he had, and it was wrong. He knew it was wrong; therefore it was not ordained of the Lord.
“What about eating meat?” I said. “The revelation says that it should be sparingly.”
He said, “That’s right, but if you’d ever eaten any meat, and then you didn’t eat any meat for five years, that would be sparingly. Then if you didn’t eat it for another five years, that’s even more sparingly. If you never ate it for the rest of your life, that would still be sparingly. So, if you’ve ever had a bit of meat, from then on you shouldn’t eat meat at all.”
When he came to polygamy, I said, “Well, we don’t practice that, you know. It’s not authorized at the moment, so you don’t have to worry about that.” But he was sure it never had been authorized.
His fourth point, the idea that an angel of the devil had told Nephi to slay Laban, came from the fact that the Lord had said, “Thou shalt not kill.” There was nothing that could be done to deter this man. No way could we do it. So I told him, “You follow your priesthood leader.” He wrote then to the President of the Church, who had me write a letter to this brother and tell him in writing essentially what I’d already told him in person. Subsequently he wound up excommunicated from the Church. The problem was that what he was teaching was not consistent with the word of God, even though he could find scriptures that seemed to substantiate it.

My boyhood home in California was located relatively close to large orchards of apricots, cherries, peaches, pears, and other delicious fruits. We also lived near fields of cucumbers, tomatoes, and a variety of vegetables.
As a boy I always looked forward to canning season. I did not like scrubbing the canning jars or working in our hot kitchen. But I did like working with my mom and dad. And I loved eating my work! I am sure I ate more fruit than ever made it into any of our canning jars.
My memories of time spent in the kitchen with Mom and Dad are stirred every time I see a bottle of home-canned cherries or peaches. The basic lessons I learned about temporal self-reliance and provident living while picking and canning produce have blessed me throughout my life. Interestingly, simple and ordinary experiences often provide the most important learning opportunities we ever have.

Many of the most important lessons Robert learned as a child came from the example of his parents and from his experiences in the Queens Ward. As deacons quorum president, Robert learned to respect his priesthood leaders after an experience with the bishop. At that time, the ward met in the Citizen’s League Hall. The sacrament table was on the main floor in front of the stage. The deacons used to take the sacrament trays, climb up onto the stage, put the trays away, and then run and jump off the stage, grab another tray, and repeat the process until all the trays were put away. “I came sailing off of that stage,” says Elder Hales, “and our new bishop was standing there. He caught me in flight. I said, ‘Well, everyone else is doing it,’ and he said, ‘Yes, but you are the president of the deacons quorum.’ The bishop said he wanted the sacrament taken care of properly, with reverence. That was when I began to learn an important lesson. I’ve appreciated priesthood leaders who have taken the time to teach me.”

Several years ago my wife and I visited Switzerland hoping to learn more about our family history. When we arrived in the town of Glarus, about 30 minutes from Lake Zurich, we found that our hotel reservation had been lost. The hotel clerk felt very bad for us, and he tried to find another place for us to stay. After making several unsuccessful phone calls, he said, “Oh, wait a minute. There’s one other small hotel not too far away. The owner has been in the United States. I’ll call there and see if he’s back yet.” So he did. We learned that the owner had just returned that day, and his hotel was completely empty.
The little hotel was right at the base of the Alps, on the shore of a beautiful lake. During a pleasant dinner, the proprietor said, “I know a Paul Koelliker. He lives in Glarus.” The next thing I knew, our new friend was on the phone talking to Paul Koelliker in Glarus. The man on the other end asked him if I was from Salt Lake City. When I replied that I was, he said, “I’ve met that man before.”
And then the memory came back to me. Twenty-five years earlier I was sitting at my desk at the Church Office Building in Salt Lake when my phone rang. Speaking English in a heavy German accent, the caller said, “My name is Paul Koelliker. I see in the phone book your name is Paul Koelliker. I’d like to meet you.” I went with my father and my grandfather to meet him, and we had a nice visit. He gave me some names of our ancestors, but we were unable to connect them to our family line, and we hadn’t seen each other again until my trip to Switzerland.
Early the next morning we went to his office. Not only does this Paul Koelliker live in Glarus, but he is the head of the archives for the canton of Glarus. When I told him we were trying to find our family roots, he said, “I think I can help you.” He took us into the archive and showed us books organized by family. He said, “I can’t let you photocopy any of this; you’ll just have to write it by hand.” So for the next seven hours, we wrote as fast as we could.
We returned from our trip to Switzerland with the names of hundreds of our ancestors and later completed their temple work. We knew there were many more names waiting in the archive at Glarus. Our family feels the spiritual urging that those names are waiting for us. I know the Lord will help us find our ancestors if we will just act on the promptings of the Spirit.

On an early Monday morning, a group of willing volunteers gathered to help clean the Mount Timpanogos Utah Temple. Assignments were given, and as several volunteers and I followed our assigned supervisor, we quickly realized she was leading us to the celestial room.
When we entered the room, we immediately noticed that the huge, tiered chandelier which normally hung high above our heads had been lowered near the floor. Our responsibility was to clean it. This was no small task, since the chandelier consisted of thousands of individual crystals! Each person was given white gloves, and we were shown how to remove the dust by carefully rubbing every crystal one by one between our gloved fingers. The delicate process was very labor intensive, but we enthusiastically went to work.
Several hours later, the newly cleaned chandelier sparkled radiantly! After admiring its beauty, we began cleaning the smaller chandeliers in the celestial room.
Suddenly something astonishing happened! The morning sun rose over the eastern mountaintop, and its bright rays shone directly through the large round window in the celestial room at the perfect angle to illuminate the magnificent chandelier. Each shiny crystal caught the sunlight, and innumerable prisms of light spontaneously scattered everywhere! Brilliant rainbows streamed across the floor, ceiling, furniture, walls, and the people, and some beams even danced through the air! We were catching rainbows in our hands! It was spectacular!
I have often pondered on that unforgettable moment and have come to understand more clearly that the light makes all the difference! Like the crystals, when we receive the light of the Son and reflect it outward, His light is magnified, and the joyful effects are astonishing!

When the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., 17-year-old Yee Mun Lim got out of bed and got ready for the day. She left the house at 5:20 for seminary. At 6:30 a.m. she hurried to school, where she stayed until 7:00 p.m. for classes and co-curricular activities. Then she rushed to the stake center by public transport to practice for the stake musical production.
This was the standard routine of most youth in the Singapore Stake every Friday for five months. Sometimes exhaustion and fatigue set in, but throughout the entire preparation for the musical production, When a Prophet Speaks, there were no complaints or regrets, because the youth felt that the sacrifices they made were worthwhile. “This is the most amazing, awesome, spiritually uplifting, fun-filled, and heart-warming event I ever took part in,” said Yee Mun, of the Singapore Second Ward.
“Our initial purpose was to unite the youth,” said Kate Loreto, the stake Young Women president. “We have youth in eight different wards and from various cultural backgrounds. It’s hard for them to interact with each other. So we thought, why not do a musical to bring them together?”
The leaders chose music inspired by the list of B’s from President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008).1 This music was chosen “so the youth could internalize the lyrics of the songs, feel the Spirit, and live the standards,” said Connie Woo, the general director of the production. “We wanted to involve as many youth as possible,” said Sister Woo. In all, 78 youth performed.
Perhaps not all of the youth came with the same motive at the beginning, but almost all of them kept coming to rehearsals because they enjoyed the friendship, the singing, and, most of all, the Spirit.
After the theme was chosen and practices organized, the youth were assigned to different parts in the production and to different committees that suited their talents.
Ally Chan, age 18, of the Singapore Second Ward volunteered to help on the costume committee. “We needed to choose something that was modest, which was very important, and it had to be economical, youthful, and at the same time look good on the stage,” she said. Not only did she learn how to make decisions based on gospel standards and working with others, but she was also happy about how the youth looked.
Canden Petersen, age 15, of the Singapore First Ward was appointed choir president to help make sure that every practice ran smoothly. His responsibilities included assigning prayers, rallying and herding the youth for practices and games, and announcing seating on the stage. “I was also asked to have some young men help set up and take down the set and oversee the youth in fulfilling their assignments,” he said. “I felt that this responsibility was good for the youth. Hopefully it helped them understand that the Lord calls leaders now, not just from among the adults. They can and should sustain their leaders whatever their age or experience level.”
Kandace Lim, age 18, of the Woodlands Ward helped by taking multiple roles, including being a member of the costume committee, the choreography committee, the photography committee, and also by singing a solo. About her many responsibilities, she said, “It was my mum who inspired me to take on these assignments. She taught me that if there’s a chance to serve, just go for it. If you accept the task and put in your best effort, the Lord will definitely help you get through any difficulties you might face.”
Besides these administrative responsibilities, performers were also needed. John Lee, age 17, of the Clementi Ward was one of the brave souls to volunteer for a solo part. His reason was simple: “I just like to sing! And it makes me feel special.”
Ezra Tadina, age 17, of the Woodlands Ward didn’t feel like he could sing, so he found another way to contribute. “I chose to be involved,” he said, “and I am actually the one who narrated the part about being involved. I feel the message because I know it’s true.”
The practices extended from November 2009 until March 2010. During this time, the youth gathered at the stake center to rehearse every Friday night, except on holidays. The amount of time and commitment required of the youth was no small sacrifice, considering the strenuous schedule of a typical Singaporean youth.
First-year junior college student Olivia Hoe of the Bedok Ward chose to participate because “no matter how life throws mud at me, at the end of the day, it’s the gospel that’s going to keep me standing and pull me through the rubble. Knowing that there’s One who’s looking out for me and loving me completely gives me plenty of comfort, and I think that’s more than enough to get me going every day.”
Many of the youth had other commitments, but they knew that the Lord had laid a path for them. Such was the case of 16-year-old Amanda Ho of the Singapore Second Ward. “I had dance practice, which clashed with some of the rehearsals for this musical, but miraculously the school changed the practice schedule, which enabled me to turn up for the musical rehearsals,” she explained.
After months of practice, the show was finally ready to be performed. Thanks to the teens’ enthusiastic promotion, more than 700 people showed up to watch them at three performances. As the youth shared their message through songs, dance, instrumental music, and their own testimonies, many in the audience were touched.
The group was also challenged to invite nonmember friends to see their performance and to make it a missionary opportunity. Michael Lee, age 18, took this challenge seriously. “I invited six friends to come, and three of my schoolmates and a schoolteacher came,” he said. Their performances especially left an impression on his teacher. “He said that it was a great experience. He even requested a copy of the For the Strength of Youth booklet. He said that he felt the energy through the many hopeful hearts of the youth.”
The leaders’ initial purpose of bringing the youth together was certainly fulfilled. “As I sat there and looked up at each of them during the performance, my heart was filled with joy,” Sister Woo said. “It was not about how good they looked, how well they sang and played, or how well they delivered the narrations. It was not about which school or country they came from. They were one.”
The musical helped many gain a stronger testimony. Some say they hum the tunes and sing the lyrics of the songs wherever they might be, and the message in the songs helps them get through their daily challenges. Many of them became not just good friends but spiritual supports who can lift each other up when the going gets tough. They can help each other stay on the narrow path and grow spiritually.

I had just finished doing baptisms for the dead when I received the message that one of my best friends had died. He was such a wonderful young man, and we had had so much fun together at Church activities.
I went to his funeral three days later and met his parents and friends. A girl from my ward and I sat down in the chapel, and the ceremony started with a song and a prayer. Some excellent talks followed, and a few songs were played.
I had never had a strong testimony about eternal life, but when we started to sing the hymn “How Great Thou Art,” I began to cry. The girl by my side asked if I was OK because she saw me crying so hard. But they weren’t tears of pain and sadness. It was because I felt the Spirit so strongly, and from that moment on I knew that I would see my friend again.

On a personal note let me share with you an experience in which I witnessed selflessness that brought tears to my eyes and helps prove my point of finding the greatest personal serenity through a selfless service to others.

A while ago I was involved in a voluntary mental health project to take care of the hungry, the less clothed, the sick, and to address the spiritual and temporal needs of homeless people on the leeward side of this island. We were to walk the beach and bush areas in the Waianae area and seek out individuals that were homeless. In my assignment I met many troubled individuals but none more memorable than a small middle aged Hawaiian woman living in the bush and tree area next to the Waianae Boat Yard. This area is a well- known homeless site here on Oahu. I was introduced to this sweet troubled woman by another woman that I will refer to as Ruth (This is not her real name). She would not want me to draw attention to her by using her real name. Ruth, who I grew to admire and care a great deal about that week, was a woman who once was a Catholic nun but had left the nunnery to work more directly with the under privileged citizens of Oahu. Ruth was a perfect example of living a life of contentment. Everywhere we went that week everyone knew her and I can say seemed to love her. I could almost immediately understand why she was so loved. She was heavenly. She was far from financially wealthy. She seemed happy and was very interesting to talk with. We talked a lot about religion those days and nights. Ruth was saintly in my opinion. She was selfless in her service.

My experience with this small troubled Hawaiian woman that Ruth took me to would probably not have happened without Ruth’s guidance. Ruth led me one night through literal darkness and bush to reach this poor woman. This dark journey could not have been more symbolic to me. Ruth and I learned from this troubled Hawaiian woman that she had been homeless for the last two years. She did have a tent that I stood by with my flashlight in the dark of the evening, but she commented to me where not to sit down because of the stinging spiders. This spider spot was approximately eight feet from her tent lodging. She shared information with us because we were interviewing her for placement into more suitable housing and care. In our medical interview she reported that she had been raped and had become HIV infected from the rape. Because of her confirmed HIV infection she was turned away from several housing opportunities. She was most gracious and loving in a grandmother type manner to Ruth and myself. We established this woman eligible for suitable housing and I am sure for more nourishment with food and clothing. I don’t believe I will ever be more humbled and certainly more blessed than I was trying to serve this sickly woman. I don’t know how selfless I was during this experience but I do know the spirit was with me at a very high level. I could not have been more fulfilled after that evening assisting this poor woman.

On one occasion, our family was going through a particularly intense time. As I did the dishes, I knew something intentional had to happen to lighten the mood. Grabbing the sprayer, I pointed it at my husband! Before it registered with him, I sprayed the water with full force and turned it onto my older girls. All were astonished, and before anyone could react, I booked it. An epic water fight broke out in our home. Our oldest actually ran through—and I mean through!—the screen door to attempt escape. An intentional memory made that day helped our family learn to laugh through trial. Participation in wholesome recreation increases cohesion in relationships, [18] resilience, [19] and communication. [20]

Third, we can recount meaningful moments. Here is a brief story written by my father about a moment in his childhood. When he retired, instead of sitting on a rocking chair and watching TV, he learned to type, took college writing classes, and read his stories over the radio. He is now working on a series of novels. Notice how he tenderly picks up the voice of himself as a child in this story, and how the child, in his own tender way, comes to feel the concerns of his parents.
Mama told me not to go upstairs in that bedroom—the one across from mine. She told me that, but I was only three, and she didn’t tell me why. I wanted to see. I knew baby Carter was in that room, so why couldn’t I go see?
Dee and Beth were on the living room floor [looking] at toys in the Christmas catalog. They kept the book all for them because they were older and bigger. They made it so I couldn’t see, and I didn’t like them. I went to the end of the room to get away, and I sat where the stairs turn to go up, and I watched them. Cleo couldn’t see the pictures good either. She was bigger than me, but she cried more, and she went for Mama to hold her. Mama always had something to sew, but this time she was on a rocker chair, by the barrel stove, just to be warm and look at the wall across the room. Cleo wanted Mama to hold her and squeak the rocking chair, so that she could stop crying and suck her thumb. Papa got a chunk of coal and put it in the barrel stove to keep the fire going.
When no one looked, I sneaked up to the room. It was cold in the room. There was nothing there but a dresser at the side of the door, with a wood box that Papa made sitting on top of it. I pulled the drawers out to make steps to go up like a ladder, and I climbed my way up. I reached up and held on the edge of the box so I could stand on a drawer and be tall enough to reach in.
I put my hand way down in. And my fingers touched something like skin, but it was cold and I jerked back. I knew it was baby Carter. I was sure it was. There was no other place in the room for him to be. But he was cold. Why was he so cold? And why wasn’t he crying?
I climbed down fast. I almost fell over the drawers. I ran out the door and down the stairs, but I hung onto the rail so I wouldn’t fall. Then I went slow so they wouldn’t know I was gone. I sat on a step to look through the spindles at Papa and Mama, so I could think.
Why isn’t Carter crying? Carter didn’t cry all day. Why isn’t Papa playing with Carter? Papa always plays with Carter in the evening. Why doesn’t Mama get Carter and nurse him like before? Why doesn’t Mama get Carter and bring him down here where it’s warm, and hold him and kiss him?
Do they know he’s cold?