Gospel Story Finder

Some time ago, my husband and I subscribed to A Liahona (Portuguese). After receiving several issues, I still hadn’t read a single one. It was hard to find time to read because I work away from home, and when I get home I have many chores to do.
I finally found a way to make time to read A Liahona. I carry it with me when I go to work and read it at the bus stop, on the bus, and when I have breaks at work.
I feel the Spirit of the Lord much closer to me now. This marvelous compass has done much good in my life.
Renilce A. C. L. de Moraes,Araucaria Ward, Curitiba Brazil Novo Mundo Stake

Josh W.

As a new deacon, Josh W. of Utah, USA, was asked to teach a lesson about being a disciple of Christ. “I found scriptures about when Peter and others were fishing. They tried one side of the boat and didn’t catch anything,” Josh says. “Then the Savior told them to fish on the other side, and they caught lots of fish (see Luke 5:5–11 and John 21:6–11). So in my lesson, we read that. Then we talked about how it’s like that for us. When we go on our own, we can have trouble. But when we listen to the Lord, He helps us.”

Josh says that learning, teaching, and sharing are important in priesthood quorums. “In Primary we learned a lot and had lots of activities,” he says. “Now we’re learning a lot and sharing. That means doing a lot with what we learn.” For example, after a priesthood lesson, Josh visited a friend who hadn’t been to church for a long time. “His parents work on Sundays, so they don’t come. But I told him he could come with me.”

Josh is learning the purpose of Young Men and Young Women. “It’s to show us how to become more like the Savior,” he says. He knows that the call to “come unto Christ” means moving along a path that started with baptism and confirmation, continues toward the temple, and leads to eternal life.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he says.

Oliver Granger was accustomed to having the authority to get things done. Before joining the Church in the 1830s, he had been a county sheriff, a colonel in the militia, and a licensed exhorter in his church. After joining, he served two missions and was a member of the Kirtland high council. But then Joseph Smith gave Oliver the almost impossible task of settling the business affairs of Church leaders who had been driven out of Kirtland.4
Feeling like a failure, Oliver went to Joseph and heard the Lord say, “I remember my servant Oliver Granger; … and when he falls he shall rise again, for his sacrifice shall be more sacred unto me than his increase” (D&C 117:12–13). From Oliver, we learn that the result God is looking for is not always for us to come up with the right solution to our challenges, but for us to grow from facing them.

I made my first covenant on November 13, 1977. I don’t remember much about my baptism, but I do remember Elder Pistone helping me into the water and Elder Morasco confirming me while my hair was still wet. I also remember the joy I felt as new ward friends gave hugs and kisses in the Argentine way and the strong desire I felt to be a faithful daughter of Heavenly Father.
Young Sister Spannaus (middle) with her parents (left), her sister Silvina (far right), and Elder Morasco.
Later I realized that the joy I felt came from the gift of the Holy Ghost. I learned that as I faithfully kept my covenants with God, the Spirit would be with me. The Holy Ghost is just one of the powerful blessings that come from a covenant relationship with God and Jesus Christ.

As we raised our children in Twin Falls, Idaho, our perspective of the worldwide Church was limited. When I was called to be a General Authority, Marcia and I were assigned to serve in the Pacific Area, a place we had never been. We were pleased to find stakes from the top of New Zealand to the bottom, with a temple that was dedicated in 1958. It was one of those 15 I had to memorize in seminary. We found temples in every major city of Australia, with stakes across that continent. We had assignments in Samoa, where there are 25 stakes, and Tonga, where almost half the population are members of the Church. We had an assignment on the island of Kiribati, where we found two stakes. We had assignments to visit stakes in Ebeye in the Marshall Islands and Daru in Papua New Guinea.
After our service in the Pacific Islands, we were assigned to serve in the Philippines. To my surprise, the Church of Jesus Christ in the Philippines is growing beyond anything I had realized. There are now 125 stakes, 23 missions, and 13 operating or announced temples. I witnessed a church of over 850,000 members in that country. How had I missed the establishment of Christ’s Church across the world?
After three years in the Philippines, I was asked to serve in the Missionary Department. My assignment took us to missions all over the world. My view of the Savior’s worldwide Church expanded exponentially. Marcia and I were assigned to visit missions in Asia. We found a beautiful stake center in Singapore, with amazing, faithful members. We visited members and missionaries in a chapel in Kota Kinabalu, Malaysia. We met missionaries in Hong Kong and participated in a wonderful stake conference with faithful, devoted Saints.
This experience was repeated as we met missionaries and members across Europe, in Latin America, in the Caribbean, and in Africa. The Church of Jesus Christ is experiencing tremendous growth in Africa.
I am an eyewitness to the ongoing Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the fulfilling of the prophecy of Joseph Smith that “the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear.”
Our wonderful missionaries who now cover the globe are 74,000 strong. Working together with members, they baptize over 20,000 people every month. It has recently been 18-, 19-, and 20-year-old young men and young women who, with the help of the Lord, have produced this mighty miracle of gathering. We find these young women and young men in the small villages of Vanuatu and in the large cities of New York, Paris, and London. I have watched them teach about the Savior in remote congregations in Fiji and larger gatherings in places like Texas, California, and Florida in the United States.
You will find missionaries in every corner of the earth speaking 60 different languages and fulfilling the Savior’s great commission in Matthew 28: “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” I honor the past and current missionaries of the Church and remind our rising generation of President Russell M. Nelson’s invitation to come and gather Israel.
I testify today that I have observed this profound Restoration of the Savior’s gospel with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears. I am a witness of God’s work across the world. There has never been a better time to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints than today.
Perhaps the most inspiring miracle of the Restoration that I have witnessed is you, the faithful members of the Church in every land. You, the Latter-day Saints, are described by Nephi in the Book of Mormon as he saw our day and testified, “And it came to pass that I, Nephi, beheld the power of the Lamb of God, that it descended upon the saints of the church of the Lamb, and upon the covenant people of the Lord, who were scattered upon all the face of the earth; and they were armed with righteousness and with the power of God in great glory.”
I testify that I have seen with my own eyes what Nephi saw—you, the covenant Saints in every land, armed with righteousness and the power of God. As I was at the pulpit in one of these great nations of the world, the Lord impressed upon my mind something that King Benjamin taught in Mosiah 2 in the Book of Mormon. Brent, “I would desire that ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, they are blessed in all things, both temporal and spiritual.”
I witness to you that I have seen this with my own eyes and heard it with my own ears as I have met you, faithful Saints of God across the earth who keep the commandments. You are the covenant children of the Father. You are disciples of Jesus Christ. You also know what I know because you have received your personal witness of the truthfulness of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. The Savior taught, “But blessed are your eyes, for they see: and your ears, for they hear.”
Under the direction of the Lord and the leadership of His prophets and apostles, we will continue to prepare missionaries, make and keep sacred covenants, establish Christ’s Church across the world, and receive the blessings that come as we keep the commandments of God. We are united. We are God’s children. We know Him and we love Him.
I join all of you, my friends, as we unitedly testify that these things are true. We make a record of what we have both seen and heard. You and I are witnesses who testify. It is with the power of this united witness that we continue to move forward with faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and His gospel. I declare my witness that Jesus Christ lives. He is our Savior and our Redeemer. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

As I speak of priesthood blessings, I have a flood of memories: I remember my sons and daughters asking for blessings to help them through the most stressful experiences of their lives. I rejoice as I recall inspired promises and the strengthened faith that came when they were fulfilled. I feel pride in the faith of a new generation when I think of a son, apprehensive about a professional examination and unable to reach his faraway father, seeking a priesthood blessing from the most accessible priesthood holder in his family, the husband of his sister. I remember a confused young convert to the Church seeking a blessing to help him change the self-destructive pattern of his life. He received a blessing so unusual I was astonished when I heard the words I spoke.
Do not hesitate to ask for a priesthood blessing when you are in need of spiritual power.

Recently I had an engaging conversation with a young man who was contemplating a mission. As we talked, it became apparent that he was struggling with his decision, because he was questioning the strength of his testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. He wanted to know why he had not received more clear answers to his prayers and study of the scriptures.
This young man, whom I will call Jim, was raised in the mission field in a home with loving parents who were doing their best to teach gospel principles to their children.
He is an outstanding athlete and popular among his friends at school. However, he is only one of a very few LDS students in a large high school.
Having raised my family in the mission field, I quickly related to Jim’s challenges of wanting to stay true to gospel principles while being accepted by good friends, yet friends whose values and beliefs generally differed from his.
He was looking for further confirmation of his testimony of Jesus Christ and the Restoration of the gospel.
Today I speak to Jim and many others like him—young men and young women across the world who are unsure about their testimonies but very much want to develop strong, vibrant testimonies that will guide them through the shoals of life that lie ahead.
I also speak to those adults who have not yet felt deeply the spirit of the gospel in their lives. In the absence of a compelling testimony, some have let their daily thoughts and actions become so focused on the things of the world that they have minimized the influence of the light of the gospel in their everyday lives.
And then as Elder Neal A. Maxwell has so eloquently described, also included are those “‘honorable’ members who are skimming over the surface instead of deepening their discipleship and who are casually engaged rather than ‘anxiously engaged’ (D&C 76:75; D&C 58:27)” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1992, 89; or Ensign, Nov. 1992, 65).
As I attended the funeral services of Elder Neal A. Maxwell and Elder David B. Haight and listened to their well-deserved tributes, I more fully internalized the extraordinary examples of testimony and discipleship that the lives of these two great brethren demonstrated. I kept pondering how their examples could help strengthen our testimonies and deepen our resolve to come closer to Christ.
These two great disciples of Christ exemplify President Gordon B. Hinckley’s admonition to all of us when he said: “I have been quoted as saying, ‘Do the best you can.’ But I want to emphasize that it be the very best. We are too prone to be satisfied with mediocre performance. We are capable of doing so much better” (“Standing Strong and Immovable,” Worldwide Leadership Training Meeting, 10 Jan. 2004, 21).
Surely President Hinckley’s counsel and encouragement applies as much to the development and strengthening of our testimonies of Jesus Christ as to anything else.
True testimonies bring the light of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ into our lives and focus all of us toward the same goal of returning to our Father in Heaven—yet our individual testimonies come through varied experiences and at different stages in our lives.
Like Jim, as a young man I was privileged to have “goodly parents” (1 Ne. 1:1). They taught gospel principles and values to our family by precept and example. As a young boy I thought I had a testimony. I believed! Then came some personal spiritual experiences through faith, prayer, scripture study, and especially father’s blessings in our home that caused me to think more seriously about the principles I had been taught and believed—but even more deeply about what I was beginning to feel. I will be forever grateful to parents who helped coach me through those precious spiritual experiences. They have had a lasting impact on me and on the strength of my testimony.
I think Alma must have had us in mind as he was teaching the Zoramites how to gain testimonies of the truth:
“But behold, if ye will awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith, yea, even if ye can no more than desire to believe, let this desire work in you, even until ye believe in a manner that ye can give place for a portion of my words” (Alma 32:27).
Alma then went on to “compare the word unto a seed.” He explained that as hearts are opened, “it will begin to swell within your breasts” (Alma 32:28). Alma then gave us the key to developing a successful testimony:
“But if ye will nourish the word, yea, nourish the tree as it beginneth to grow, by your faith with great diligence, and with patience, looking forward to the fruit thereof, it shall take root; and behold it shall be a tree springing up unto everlasting life” (Alma 32:41).
And then the promise!
“Then, my brethren, ye shall reap the rewards of your faith, and your diligence, and patience, and long-suffering, waiting for the tree to bring forth fruit unto you” (Alma 32:43).
Think with me for a moment, brothers and sisters, about what Alma is teaching us.
First, we must have a sincere desire to believe. Phrases such as “awake,” “arouse your faculties,” “experiment,” and “exercise a particle of faith” are action words that suggest sustained effort on our part.
His description of the swelling in our breast describes the feeling of the Holy Spirit. And as Moroni promises, “By the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things” (Moro. 10:5).
To keep that Spirit growing, Alma says we must nourish it by “faith with great diligence, and with patience.” He then promises that the rewards of faith, diligence, patience, and long-suffering will bring forth everlasting life (Alma 32:41; see also Alma 32:43).
Like Alma, latter-day prophets have been clear in their teachings of the things we need to do to develop and strengthen our testimonies.
We have been sent here to work out our individual salvation through the tests and challenges of daily life. We cannot do that by relying heavily upon the borrowed light of someone else’s testimony. As we receive inspiration when we hear prophets, leaders, and peers bear their testimonies, those spiritual feelings should further enhance our desire to strengthen our own convictions.
To my young friend, and to all wherever you may be, never give up on the Lord. The answer to your prayers may not be as clear or as timely as you would like, but keep praying. The Lord is listening! As you pray, ask for help in understanding the promptings of the Holy Spirit. And then do your very best to be worthy to receive those promptings. As you recognize or feel the impressions and whisperings of the Spirit, then act upon them.
Daily fervent prayers seeking forgiveness and special help and direction are essential to our lives and the nourishment of our testimonies. When we become hurried, repetitive, casual, or forgetful in our prayers, we tend to lose the closeness of the Spirit, which is so essential in the continual direction we need to successfully manage the challenges of our everyday lives. Family prayer every morning and night adds additional blessings and power to our individual prayers and to our testimonies.
Personal, sincere involvement in the scriptures produces faith, hope, and solutions to our daily challenges. Frequently reading, pondering, and applying the lessons of the scriptures, combined with prayer, become an irreplaceable part of gaining and sustaining a strong, vibrant testimony.
President Spencer W. Kimball reminded us of the importance of consistent scripture reading when he said, “I find that when I get casual in my relationships with divinity and when it seems … no divine voice is speaking, … if I immerse myself in the scriptures the distance narrows and the spirituality returns” (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball [1982], 135).
The Savior taught, “Search the scriptures; for in them ye think ye have eternal life: and they are they which testify of me” (John 5:39).
The strong, unwavering testimonies that so many of you wonderful, faithful members of the Church embrace have come from prayerfully following counsel from our prophets and the scriptures. That same priceless blessing is available to each of us who earnestly seek it.
To my young friend Jim, and all others who may have periodic concerns about the strength of their testimonies, know that you are loved and watched over daily by your Father in Heaven. He will respond as you strive to keep His commandments and reach out for His loving hand.
We all share the same promise that the Lord gave to the Prophet Joseph Smith: “Draw near unto me and I will draw near unto you; seek me diligently and ye shall find me; ask, and ye shall receive; knock, and it shall be opened unto you” (D&C 88:63).
Our prophet’s call to do our “very best” challenges each of us, individually and within our families, to carefully examine our personal lives and then commit to change those things which will more fully assure our testimonies are strong and secure.
Strong testimonies become the driving force for each of us to do “much better.” They become the impenetrable bulwark of armor that protects us from the unrelenting things of the world.
I bear my witness that we have a loving, caring Father in Heaven and that He and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, appeared to the boy Joseph to usher in the Restoration of the gospel in this last dispensation.
Jesus Christ heads this Church. President Gordon B. Hinckley is His chosen prophet.
May we have the courage and the conviction to follow the prophet’s counsel. As we do so, our personal testimonies will be secure. That this may be so I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Today is going to be a perfect day—an Abby Day! Abby thought as she skipped into the sunny kitchen.
“What would you like for breakfast, dear,” asked Mama.
Abby thought it would be nice to have strawberry ripple ice cream. But, sure that Mama would shake her head and sigh, “Oh, Abigail,” she said, “I’d like oatmeal with raisins and a little brown sugar.”
“All right, Abby. It will only take a minute.” Mama smiled at her.
Then, when Papa offered Abby orange juice or apple juice, Abby said she would like orange juice, please, and was glad that she’d remembered to be polite.
Breakfast was delicious. When she finished, Abby took her bowl, spoon, and glass to the sink. “Here, Papa. I’m finished.”
He smiled at Abby as he took her things. “Thank you, Abby,” he said. “What a big help you are.”
Abby went into the family room. Mama was sitting on the floor, surrounded by scraps of material. Each little pile was a different color or pattern. They were so beautiful that Abby wanted to grab all the piles and throw them up into the air. She imagined the bright colors and pretty patterns fluttering down like butterflies. But the last time she had done that, Mama had cried, “Oh no, Abigail!” so she knelt down next to Mama and asked, “What can I do to help?”
Mama hugged her. “Can you help me choose some pretty pieces for a quilt for Aunt Lisa?” Abby was glad that she could help.
When Mama went to help Papa for a minute, Abby noticed how the fluffy quilt batting looked just like a bouncy cotton cloud waiting for someone to jump into it. Then she thought it looked more like new-fallen snow, and she imagined being the first one to walk through it.
They were wonderful thoughts, but Abby wouldn’t like the sad “Ab-i-gail” Mama would say if she did walk on the quilt batting. And it was Abby Day, so she sat still and waited for Mama to return.
Soon Mama came back and said, “Thank you for waiting so patiently, Abby. Papa is going out to the barn now. Would you like to go with him?”
“Yes!” Then, because it was Abby Day, she remembered to get her coat and hat without being asked. Usually Abby squirmed a lot when Mama put on her coat. But today Abby only wiggled a little while Mama buttoned the top button. “There,” Mama said, “all done.”
It was cold as Papa and Abby walked down the driveway to the barn. “Will it snow, Papa?” Abby asked.
“Soon. Maybe today.”
Most of the leaves were off the trees, and Abby ran to pick up an armful of them. She threw them up as high as she could. “Look, Papa—it’s snowing leaves!” She started to run across the yard, then stopped and asked, “Can we run, Papa?”
She knew that if she ran too far ahead, Papa would call, “Wait for me, Abigail!” But today Papa said, “Sure, Abby,” and he raced her to the barn.
Papa and Abby finished their work in the barn just as it began to snow. They went into the kitchen where it was warm. Mama fixed hot chocolate, and it tasted just right and made Abby feel warm. Abby had an even warmer feeling inside as she thought about how she had made the day an Abby Day.

When I turned 18, my father allowed me to be baptized in any church I wanted. I wanted to join a Christian church because I’d studied the Bible in several congregations and believed in Jesus Christ.
One day my uncle invited two sister missionaries to our home. They spoke with much conviction about their belief in the Book of Mormon as another testament of Jesus Christ, stating that He had visited the American continent.
On that point, I expressed my opinion that perhaps they were mistaken, since never in my life had I studied about that. One of the sister missionaries, with tears in her eyes and with kindness, said to me, “Brother Roberto, the fact that you do not know the Book of Mormon is true does not mean that we are mistaken. I know that Jesus Christ loves us and that He was on this continent and that He taught His gospel just as He had in the Holy Land.”
They tried to help me with my many concerns and doubts during that first discussion, agreeing that they would visit me the next week.
That night I began to leaf through the Book of Mormon. As I read the title page, one phrase caught my attention: “Jesus is the Christ, the Eternal God, manifesting himself unto all nations.” I also read 3 Nephi 11 about the Savior’s visit to the Americas, and I felt a gladness in my heart. So I did what the missionaries had told me to do: I knelt and asked my Heavenly Father if the book was true.
As I finished the prayer, I felt a peace and a surety that this was so. For a moment I thought that the tears of the sisters had moved me and caused me to believe in their testimony. So I continued reading the Book of Mormon until a little after 4:00 in the morning. Each time I prayed, I felt with more strength the confirmation that Christ had come to the Americas and that He wanted me to learn more about His true gospel.
Within weeks, I finished reading the Book of Mormon and felt a need to be baptized into the true Church.
Reading the Book of Mormon helped me to grow closer to Jesus Christ and to make Him the center of my life. I am so grateful that the Savior put the missionaries and His Church into my path.

“I’m thirsty, Father!”
Theodore Farley looked down from the wagon seat at his five-year-old son, Lesley. “We all are,” he said kindly. “We’re trying to find you some water.”
“I’m sure there will be some at the next spring,” 14-year-old Lydia added reassuringly.
“But that’s what you said at the last three,” 11-year-old Carl pointed out. “And they were all dried up. We’ve been searching for hours.”
Mother and Father exchanged a worried glance. “I haven’t traveled this road in August before,” Father said. “I’ve never seen it so dry.”
Adleen looked up at the blazing sun. It was 1895, and her family was moving from Snowflake, Arizona, to Provo, Utah. Before they left home, Father had filled all their barrels with water for both people and horses. He planned to refill them at springs along the way, but now the barrels were empty, and everyone was suffering. Adleen shook her head. How would they ever find water in this barren, sandy desert?
“Theodore!” Mother clutched baby Louie to her and cried out as the horses stumbled and stopped.
Father jumped down and gently urged them forward. They refused to move. “We’ll rest here,” he said with a sigh. He unhitched the horses, which huddled in the shade of a scrubby tree. Father and 15-year-old Dick set off to find the spring that lay some distance off the road.
Mother gathered her children beneath the wagon. “Let’s stay in the shade,” she said. “And trust in the Lord.”
“They’re back!” someone yelled. Adleen reluctantly shook off her dream of eating ripe, juicy watermelons and looked up. She saw Father and Dick, sweat-stained and covered with dust.
Father sat down by them, removing his hat and wiping his brow. “The spring is dried up,” he said, “and no earthly help is anywhere near.”
“Then we must rely on divine aid,” Mother said firmly, rising to her knees. Father joined her, motioning for the children to do the same. Adleen shut her eyes tight and tried hard to have faith.
“We have done all we can,” Father prayed. “If it be Thy will that we should live, please send us water.”
After the prayer, as the family sat and waited calmly, their fear changed to peace.
“What will happen now?” asked Lesley.
Mother smiled. “I don’t know. Wait and see.”
“Look!” Adleen was on her feet, pointing at the horizon and dancing with excitement.
“What is it?” Father shaded his eyes and squinted into the sun.
“There in the sky,” Mother said. “A little cloud.”
They watched as the cloud grew larger and got closer. Soon it overshadowed them, and rain poured down.
“Quick!” Father called. “The wagon cover.” Father, Dick, Carl, and Lydia snatched up the corners of the cloth and caught the rain, which they tipped into the barrels, filling them to overflowing. Adleen laughed and twirled in the rain, her mouth open to the sky.
By the time the rain stopped, both animals and people had quenched their thirst. Father and Dick strapped the full water barrels to the wagon and hitched up the horses. They all continued on their journey.
They hadn’t gone far before desert dust was clinging to their wet clothing.
“Father, look!” Lydia said in awe. “It didn’t rain a drop out here.”
“No, it didn’t,” Father answered reverently. “It rained only where our wagon stood. We have been part of a miracle.”
None of them ever forgot the day Heavenly Father sent water in the desert.

The summer I turned 12, just before I entered the seventh grade, I encountered the first doubts I’d had about the gospel. My parents seemed to know the Church was true, and so did the many Church leaders I’d had throughout my life. But I realized I couldn’t remember ever feeling the “warm, fuzzy feeling” that everyone talked about.
So for three months, I prayed hard every night to feel it too. I prayed for any sign that Heavenly Father was listening to me and ready for me to know. Still, no answer came.
I didn’t tell my parents, siblings, or friends about my inner turmoil. I was scared to think I was the only one without an answer, that I was the only one who didn’t know for sure that the gospel is true.
After those three months, at the end of summer vacation, it was time for our family’s annual father’s blessings. These were our “back-to-school blessings,” as we called them, so the things spoken for each of my siblings generally fit with that theme. My dad blessed my siblings with success in their schooling and academic goals.
When it was my turn, my dad laid his hands on my head. Just after he started the blessing, he spoke nine words without hesitation, in the surest voice I’d ever heard him use, which shocked me: “I testify to you that this gospel is true.” My dad didn’t even mention my academic life. Instead, he simply bore his testimony for the entire blessing.
My eyes welled with tears that confused the rest of my family—none of them, including my father, knew about the questions I’d been struggling with. However, as I learned then, my Heavenly Father did.
Since that day, I can testify that no matter how or when, whether it’s through a feeling or the words of another, Heavenly Father will answer every prayer.

Janetta looked again at the flickering lights and felt sadness creep in. Her father had left before the temple walls were up. Their family had never had the opportunity to go inside to be sealed together as a family.
The worst of the trouble had started the summer before, when the Prophet Joseph was killed. Everyone was numb from the tragedy. It was as if a cloud of darkness covered their beautiful city—only there weren’t any clouds.
With tears streaming down their cheeks, Sarah and Janetta had stood hand in hand as the bodies of the Prophet and his brother Hyrum passed by in a wagon coming from Carthage. Later, after the bodies had been prepared at the Mansion House, her parents stood in line to view them.
As the sorrow lessened, some of the Saints became confused. Rumors circulated in the city that the Church was doomed. Some predicted that the temple would never be finished. Several men claimed to be the next leader of the Church.
Janetta was troubled by the confusion. “Father,” she asked one day, “what will happen now? Who will lead the Church?”
Her father took her in his strong arms and hugged her. “This Church was true while Joseph lived, and it’s true now that he’s dead. It’s the Savior’s Church, and He’ll provide a leader for us. We’ll listen to the Brethren and follow what they say. There’s a meeting in the grove tomorrow, and Brother Brigham will tell us what’s right.”
The next day the Saints eagerly gathered at the grove. The first speaker was Sidney Rigdon. Janetta listened very carefully, for he claimed to be the proper leader of the Church. He talked on and on. The more he talked, the more she fidgeted and the worse she felt. She looked over at Sarah and caught her eye. When Sarah winked at Janetta, they both tried hard not to giggle,
Finally Sidney Rigdon sat down and Brigham Young closed the meeting. He announced another meeting under the direction of the Apostles at two o’clock.
Janetta and her parents hurried home and put James down for a nap. Leaving a neighbor to watch him, the three hurried back to the second meeting. Even though they were early, the only seats left were way in the back. Janetta was too short to see over people, but she could still hear the speakers.
Brigham Young stood up and began to speak. Hearing him, she felt a peace fill her. Then suddenly she jumped up and craned to see over the heads of the people in front of her. She thought she had heard the Prophet Joseph!
A blind man sitting beside her jumped up too. “That’s Joseph speaking to us. Surely he’s not dead!”
The extraordinary effect lasted only for seconds, but the people knew that Brigham Young had been chosen to lead the Church. They all listened very carefully to every word that he said.
When the meeting was over, Janetta hurried to find Sarah. “Did you hear him?” she asked excitedly. “He sounded just like the Prophet.”
“I not only heard him,” Sarah answered softly, “I saw him. It was like Brother Joseph was standing right there before us.”
The girls were silent for a moment as they reverently thought of what they’d just witnessed.
“I’ll never forget this,” Janetta whispered. “Brother Young is our prophet now. We can safely do everything he tells us to do.”

After I returned from my mission, I stayed with my family for three weeks before leaving to enter Brigham Young University. Before school started my father visited me, meeting my friends and seeing Salt Lake City. When I took him to the airport, he embraced me and said, “Out of all 46 years of my life, never ever have I felt more love or the Spirit of God in my home than when you were home the last few weeks. I know we owe it to the service you gave in Spain for two years.”

My heart stopped beating as I peered over the edge of the thirty-meter cliff. I couldn’t believe I’d put myself in this position. My friends in the boat below were laughing at my hesitation to jump, which made me even more determined to do it.
We had decided to celebrate our high school graduation by camping at a lake resort. The surroundings were beautiful, and the temperature climbed into the 90s each day. It felt great to be healthy, suntanned, and eighteen years old.
As we climbed to the top of that cliff, we laughed at our friends down below in the boat. They were always talking about the adventurous things they were going to do, but never did them. They were the ones who always did the “safe” things at school. Now, we laughed, they were missing a great opportunity to jump off a cliff into the beautiful, clear waters of the lake.
The first to run and jump was Bryce. I watched him twist and turn his body as he fell through the air, and I heard the distant splash when he hit the water. “You’ve got to try it!” he yelled up at me as he pulled himself into the boat. It was a direct challenge.
I looked around and found my other three friends smiling at me. I suddenly had a sick feeling at the bottom of my stomach as I realized that jumping off a thirty-meter cliff wasn’t such a good idea. But how could I not jump now? My friends were expecting me to jump. If I didn’t, they would never let me forget that I had backed out and not accepted Bryce’s challenge.
Just when I was about to jump, I was overtaken by Kelly, who gave an excited yell as he leaped into the air. We never saw him hit the water, but heard him crying as the others pulled him into the boat. His knees had slammed together upon impact, and his legs would be in a cast for the rest of the summer, following surgery on both knees.
The three of us who remained were now really scared of making the jump, but we wouldn’t admit it. I remember thinking about my acceptance to Brigham Young University, and about my plans to serve a mission after my first year of college. I began to think of the consequences of making the jump. What if I became seriously injured? Was impressing my friends really that important?
“Fifty percent chance you make it and fifty percent chance you get hurt,” Bryce impatiently yelled at me from below. Not a very encouraging thought.
I slowly walked back from the edge of the cliff, then raced toward it, lifting my body off the ground as I soared into the air. I looked straight down as I quickly dropped, my arms waving to maintain my balance.
My entry into the water was like an explosion, and I heard something in my back crack. As I sank into the water, I realized that I couldn’t move my body. I felt as though my lungs would explode as I slowly floated to the surface, only to hear my friends laughing at the expression on my face.
Ted was the first to realize I was in pain, and he told the others to stop laughing as I was pulled into the boat. I mentioned something about the pain in my back as they laid me down next to Kelly with his injured knees. I was soon moaning in pain right along with him.
Then Kelly and I watched in bewilderment as our remaining two friends at the top of the cliff prepared for their own jumps. Despite unfavorable odds, each of them made the leap—successfully.
Since the nearest doctors were more than 200 kilometers away, I decided to stay with my friends and finish the camping trip. I lay in a tent for two days, shocked at my stupidity. I was only eighteen, yet I had risked my life for the sake of having “fun” and impressing my friends.
The doctor who examined my back said I had a compression-fracture which would cause me problems with arthritis throughout my life, but I still considered myself the luckiest person in the world.
Looking back on my life, I realized that I had wasted most of my teenage years doing stupid, irresponsible things—like jumping off a thirty-meter cliff. I hadn’t stopped to consider what effect my actions were having on other people, or on myself. I had been a thrill seeker who never had to face the consequences until that fateful day when I’d almost given my life just to impress my friends. It took a disastrous leap into the lake to shake me from my fantasy world into a world of reality and responsibility.

One morning in April 1991, Kiril and Nevenka Kiriakov were at their home in Virginia when the telephone rang. Nevenka immediately recognized the familiar voice: “May I speak with Brother Kiriakov?” then-Elder Thomas S. Monson asked. 7
“Certainly,” she responded. Before she could hand the phone to Kiril, however, Elder Monson continued, “How would you feel if your husband were called as the first mission president in Bulgaria?” 8
Kiril and Nevenka had fled Bulgaria in 1963 with their children, Julia and Peter, and joined the Church in France before settling in the United States. Although Communist authorities had threatened Kiril with death and his family with life imprisonment if they ever returned, Kiril had been promised in a blessing that he would preach the gospel in Bulgaria. With a new government in place, they felt safe to return. Despite Kiril’s significant health concerns, he and Nevenka courageously accepted a call to serve. 9 “I was anxious to see all my relatives and friends,” Nevenka said, “and share with them the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.” 10
As Kiril and Nevenka prepared to return to their homeland, the first missionaries who would serve under their leadership were arriving at the missionary training center in Provo, Utah, USA. The language teacher who greeted them on their first day was Julia Kiriakov Caswell, Kiril and Nevenka’s daughter. 11
In July 1991, the Bulgaria Sofia Mission officially opened. Through the faith, perseverance, and efforts of the local members and the missionaries, the Church soon received official recognition. 12 By the end of 1991, more than 150 Bulgarian Saints had been baptized. 13

My military experience came after I had returned from a mission. My companions knew that I had been a missionary, which meant, to them, a minister. I remember lying in my tent, bunked next to a young fellow from Tennessee who would often look at me with a wondering expression. When I would ask him what was troubling him, he would say: “I can’t believe it. As I grew up through my childhood, ministers were people so highly respected that we hardly dared speak to them, and here I find myself sleeping next to one in this tent.”

As some of my companions engaged in practices that Latter-day Saints don’t think highly of, such as smoking or drinking, profanity or immorality, it was evident that they didn’t concern themselves about what the Lord would like them to do. When moments of stress came, however, their attitudes changed. I remember when one of these boys, who was not particularly impressed with the life of a former missionary, was scheduled for what was called an elimination flight, and he knew that if he failed the test that day, he would be eliminated from flying in the United States Air Force. He came to me in a very solemn mood and quietly said with tears in his eyes, “Bill, please pray for me. I need it.”

One day my instructor was giving an explanation to five of us in the ready room. In order to explain a certain maneuver, he went to the blackboard. Inasmuch as he was smoking a cigarette, he handed it to me to hold while he made the demonstration, and by this means I had the “privilege” of holding my first cigarette. After he had finished his demonstration at the blackboard, he took his cigarette back, and then he said, “Mr. Bangerter, I apologize for handing you my cigarette. I know you don’t smoke, do you?”

I said, “No, sir, I don’t.”

He said, “You don’t drink either, do you?”

I said, “No, sir.”

He asked, “Do you drink tea?”

“No, sir.”

“Do you drink coffee?”

“No, sir.” He turned to the other four students standing together and said, “Now, men, that’s the Word of Wisdom. We would all be much better off if we lived that way.” You can appreciate that I felt uplifted by that experience.

Another day I was riding in the airplane with my squadron commander. I was about 23 years old, and he was about 40. He was a man of fine manners and polite expression. After we had finished our flight and had landed the airplane, we were taxiing back to the parking area when another airplane came driving past in a way that my squadron commander did not appreciate. He looked over at the other pilot and said to me in a disgusted voice, “Where does that so-and-so think he is going!” And he uttered an oath. We parked the airplane and shut off the engine. As I climbed out, he turned to me and said, “Mr. Bangerter, I am sorry I spoke the way I did back there. I forgot for a moment it was you who was riding with me in the airplane.”

Of course, I realized throughout those years that I was considered different. Some people may have thought me strange. Those with whom I associated, however, frequently expressed admiration for the way I lived. I never found it necessary to break my standards, to remove my garments, or to apologize for being a Latter-day Saint. On more than one occasion during our training, my classmates gathered together for a farewell party or some other special event and had a dinner that, of course, was liberally supplied with liquor. Several of my companions would come to me before the dinner and ask me if I would please be so kind as to drive their car home for them because they would not be able to trust themselves at the conclusion of the party.

I can honestly say that no nonmember of the Church has ever tried to induce me to discard my standards. The only people I remember trying to coerce me to abandon my principles or who ridiculed me for my standards have been non-practicing members of the Church.

I know it is a blessing to stand up for the principles of truth and righteousness. People who value their character and their reputation will be honored to be of the chosen generation and to stand out as representatives of a peculiar and a noble people. I hope I may always find young people who are square. They are the solid kind, and their foundations are secure.

At the solemn assembly during general conference when President Hinckley was sustained as the prophet by the Church membership, all the grandchildren stood at the appropriate times and raised their hands to sustain the new prophet.

“It was an amazing experience,” says Ada Hinckley, 16, “to raise your hand to the square and sustain the prophet, the President of the Church, who is also your grandpa. When they sing, ‘We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet,’ you are just kind of taken aback because they are singing about your grandfather.”

But Ada found that the very thing that helped a lot of young women in the Church also helped her gain a testimony of the prophet. She attended the general Young Women meeting before April conference where the theme was gaining a testimony of the prophet. “It helped me a lot to gain a testimony that he is a prophet and that he leads the Church. I know he does.”

It all started when Brother Noble visited the meetinghouse library and saw that there were nearly 70 Church films available for viewing. He thought that it would be nice to show a film on television once a month. “I figured that with 70 films, we could be on the air for four or five years.”

“I knew people liked Mr. Kreuger’s Christmas, and I thought they might like these other films,” said Brother Noble. “I phoned the television cable company and was invited for an interview. The manager said we couldn’t just show a film. We had to have some local content. He suggested an hour show where we show a half-hour film and discuss it afterward with two or three guests. We set the formula for the show based on his suggestion.”

Before the first episode of the show could go on the air, a crew had to be assembled. The studio personnel would train the people involved to run the cameras and sound equipment and be the floor director. Brother Noble thought of using the young men of the ward. He asked the teachers quorum to help. His aim was to have a trained, established group who would stay with it for several years.

Were there any problems using such an inexperienced young crew? Brother Noble said, “There was some opposition to my using kids. But we stuck with it. They are just the right age to learn.”

It takes a four-man crew to get a show on the air. So far six have worked on the program, Allen Oram, Mike Noble, Martin Kyle, Bill Graham, Doren Quinton, and Chris Arnold. Not only are friends impressed when they beg off from other after-school activities because they “have to go film a television show,” but parents too have been impressed by what their sons have done. Indeed, most of the boys’ families and other ward members tune in to watch the show. But the crew doesn’t always sit back and enjoy the program.

“When we watch the show on Tuesday nights,” said Doren, “we’re critical of how we did.”

Allen quickly added, “We’re getting better all the time.”

Things have not always gone smoothly as the young men were learning how to run the equipment and anticipate the requests of the director. Some of the first tapings were plagued by pictures with no sound and potentially embarrassing zoom shots.

The group learned quickly that they had to do it right the first time. “There are no retakes,” said show host, Brother Noble. “If you stutter or clam up, it’s right there on tape, no second chances. It doesn’t bother me to talk to different people, but once you get under those lights, it shakes you a bit.”

Chris remembers learning about how to produce the show. “I was really surprised at first. The first time was quite rough, but we learned. Now when I watch television, I know what the cameras are doing and when they mess up.”

Martin was also involved in that first program. “Everyone decided on what area they wanted to work, sound or camera. I thought the whole thing was a great idea. I had always wondered how they actually did television productions, and here we were doing it too.”

Martin chose to do the sound mixing. His interest has been stimulated, and he finds that knowing a little has added to his appreciation of professional sound mixers. “I went to a concert, and I was really interested in the complicated sound mixing. It was amazing because I knew just how good it was.”

At first, the LDS Hour seemed to be a service just for Church members. But Brother Noble and the boys found out that the show was being watched by an audience they hadn’t quite expected. They found that members who have not been attending church for years are tuning in.

“They don’t want to commit themselves to attend church meetings, but they want some connection. One lady who watches our show was baptized 33 years ago,” said Brother Noble. “Her home teachers and visiting teachers have never been successful in encouraging her to attend the ward. But she watches the program and calls her friends to watch it.”

The group really didn’t know how well the program was being received until one day the LDS Hour had to be cancelled because of a scheduling conflict with another program the cable station was airing. That was when the telephone started ringing. Viewers wanted to know what had happened to “their” program. The following month the show was back in its scheduled spot, and both the cable station and the local wards were glad to know they had a program that was missed when it didn’t make it on the air.

The young men have caught on that they are involved in something more than just publicity for the Church. They recognize it as a service project. “Yeah, but it’s fun,” is the quick response. It has involved the community because the subjects of the films and the discussions are of general interest.

Bill explains, “It’s not really a preachy show. It’s about good things that society wants. It’s about human relations. It’s something we can all share.”

Bill also tells about one man that was touched directly from the program. “I know a lot of people call their friends and tell them about the show. One man saw the show and called the missionaries and wanted to know more about the Church. It’s a missionary tool. We aren’t directly teaching people, but we’re helping. I like being a part of that.”

The crew has arrived at the studio ready for another taping. With an air of knowing exactly what needs to be done, they quickly arrange the furniture on the set. Chris and Allen pull cables out of the way of their cameras. Martin clips the tiny microphones to their guests’ lapels. Mike is seated at the switching board, giving instructions over his headset.

Suddenly someone yells, “Quiet.” Bill counts down with the fingers of one hand. “Five … four … three … two … we’re on the air.”

When the weather got warmer, there was time for some mountain climbing with Wallace and LeRoi, the three young men striking out for the “highest point” in the mountains above Brigham City:
“We climbed up some of the roughest places I had ever been over. I took the lead after half of the way had been traveled. LeRoi shot a snake over five feet long. There were large, deep banks of snow, some over five feet deep. Large towering masses of stone began to get very common. I walked over one large bed of rock, jumped from one stone to another. Large, deep holes, many over 25 feet to the bottom, were a common thing amongst this immense mass or field of rock. We rolled large boulders over many precipices, and they seemed to shake the earth on their destructive path, tearing up trees by the roots. I arrived at the top first, 25 minutes ahead of the others. … We could see Logan City and the beautiful white Logan temple from our lofty view. We also saw the small towns in all directions around. I left the top for home 2:10 after writing a few notes down. I ran down a path, flying homeward, arriving one hour ahead of the boys. I enjoyed it very much; wore out my shoes.”

On a crisp fall morning, the dew on the grass was drying itself in the warmth and light of the rising sun as we watched our four-year-old grandson make his way to the soccer field with his teammates. As soon as the shrill opening whistle faded, little Freddie ran onto the field wildly, zigzagging his way across the grass. As he ran, he made exaggerated circles with his arms in the air, spiraling out of control. He even left the field of play once or twice, moving his head with a strange whirling motion.
Illustrations by Bill Mayer
Freddie’s collegiate-athlete parents watched him in dismay and were not amused. In fact, both were confused and frustrated. They knew they had taught their son to play by the rules, to focus, and to compete vigorously. And yet there he was in his own world, buzzing bee-like back and forth across the soccer field.
While Freddie’s parents talked with one another and discussed ways to understand and correct this clearly aberrant behavior, we grandparents watched carefully, trying to unravel the mystery of Freddie’s curious conduct. At halftime the whistle signaled that it was time for the teams to change goals and face the opposite direction. Without any coaching from his parents, when the match resumed, Freddie began to play, focusing intently on the soccer ball. Dribble, dribble, kick! Goal! Suddenly, the zigzagging, bee-boy was able to focus on his objective, follow the rules, and achieve success!
What could possibly explain the dramatic difference in Freddie’s behavior?
While marveling at Freddie’s transformation, we began to see the light. It all had to do with shadows and sunlight. When the match started, the sun was at Freddie’s back, so in the morning sunlight, his body cast a long shadow. As he watched his shadow, he was fascinated with his manipulation of its movement, and its distracting darkness drew his attention away from what he should have been doing.
In the second half of the game, when he changed direction and faced the sun, his shadow fell behind him. The sun and Freddie’s position eliminated his dark silhouette on the field before him, and he fixed his focus on his goal. Facing the light, Freddie was able to clearly center his attention on his objective. Without the distraction of his shadow, he remembered the rules and began to abide by them.