Gospel Story Finder

President Nelson related this story written by his grandfather A.C. Nelson. As a relatively young man, A.C.’s father (President Nelson’s great-grandfather) passed away. Three months later, he appeared to his son (President Nelson’s grandfather) and shared what he had been doing beyond the veil. President Nelson read his grandfather’s account as follows:
I was in bed when Father entered the room. He came and sat on the side of the bed. He said, “Well, my son, . . . I received permission to come and see you for a few minutes. I am feeling well, my son, and have had very much to do since I died.” “What have you been doing since you died, Father?” “I've been traveling together with Apostle Erastus Snow ever since I died. That is, since three days after I died. I received my commission to preach the gospel. You cannot imagine, my son, how many spirits there are in the spirit world that have not yet received the gospel. But many are receiving it, and a great work is being accomplished. Many are anxiously looking forth to their friends who are still living to administer for them in the temples.”[25]

Some years ago in the Church News there appeared a most interesting article about a young man who made his decision to trust in the ways of the Lord.
“President Spencer W. Kimball is a constant inspiration to the Church. This is not only so through what he says, but likewise by what he does. When addressing the Stockholm Area Conference he revealed the secret of this success. Said he: ‘As I was out alone, milking the cows, or putting up the hay, I had time to think. I mulled it over in my mind and made this decision: ‘I, Spencer Kimball, will never taste any form of liquor. I, Spencer Kimball, will never touch tobacco. I will never drink coffee, nor will I ever touch tea—not because I can explain why I shouldn’t, except that the Lord said not to.’ He said those things were an abomination. There are many other things that are, too, that are not in the Word of Wisdom. But I made up my mind.

‘That’s the point I am trying to make. I made up my mind then, as a little boy; ‘I will never touch those things.’ And so, having made up my mind, it was easy to follow it, and I did not yield. There were many temptations that came along, but I did not even analyze it; I did not stop and measure it and say, ‘Well, shall I or shall I not?’ I always said to myself: ‘But I made up my mind I would not. Therefore, I do not.

“‘I want to just say that I will soon go into another year and that I have never tasted tea, nor coffee, nor tobacco, nor liquor of any kind, nor drugs. Now that may sound very presumptuous and boasting to you, but I am only trying to make this point: that if every boy and girl—as he or she begins to grow a little more mature and becomes a little more independent of his friends and his family and all—if every boy and girl would make up his or her mind, I will not yield, then no matter what the temptation is: I made up my mind. That’s settled’” (Church News, Oct. 4, 1975, 16).

I understood that I had to make changes in my life if I wanted to teach my children the right way. For example, I could not teach them to keep the Word of Wisdom and live a chaste life if I was not living these commandments. By striving to live the teachings of the gospel, I was able to change my life and teach my children. I was also able to baptize my three children from my first marriage and get them back from the world. All eight children belong to the Church now. Four have served missions. One was too old to go on a mission, but he served as a stake mission president. Six are married, all in the temple.

“I’ve often said I wasn’t born east of the tracks. I wasn’t born west of the tracks. I was born between the tracks—the tracks on First West and the tracks on Third West in Salt Lake City.
“My mother’s ancestors were converts from Scotland. My father’s mother came from England, and my father’s father came from Sweden. They met aboard ship while coming to America as converts to the Church. She was considerably younger than he, and so he waited for her to ‘grow up,’ that they might be married. I noted with interest in his missionary journal, years later, that the first entry said, ‘Today I entered the Salt Lake Temple, where my sweetheart and I were married for time and all eternity.’ Three days later the entry said, ‘Tonight the bishop called at our home, and I have been called to return to Sweden on a three-year mission. My sweet wife will remain at home and support me and sustain me.’ This is the kind of pioneer stock of which I am very proud.
“When I was a boy, our family had a home up Provo Canyon—and we still have it—where we would spend each July and August. For those two months I was able to fish and swim every day and live like Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn. I still enjoy swimming and fishing whenever I can manage the time for them.
“When I was about eleven, I started a hobby of raising pigeons. I still have some pigeons, and one of my sons has also taken up this hobby. I remember showing my pigeons at a state fair on one occasion and even winning blue ribbons for them. I’ve always enjoyed raising fancy chickens. Although I have lived in the city all my life, I’ve always had enough room to have a few chickens.
“I learned how to work from my father and began my first part-time job after school in the printing shop that he managed when I was fourteen. I don’t remember many days in my life after I was fourteen that I didn’t work, other than on Sundays. When you learn to work while you’re young, the habit stays with you. I’m happiest when I’m busy.
“I was a young boy during the depression. Our home was situated not far from the railroad tracks where the vagrants would ‘ride the rails.’ The men came in twos or threes to our back door for something to eat. I can never remember my mother turning those men away hungry. She would fix them a sandwich, give them a glass of milk, and send them on their way with a word of cheer, having a feeling in her heart that she had done some good.
“I was fortunate when I was a boy to have an outstanding Sunday School teacher. When she talked about the apostle Paul, we could almost hear him preaching. She made every character in the scriptures come alive. She was an unusually kind woman and let us boys know that she expected us to be gentlemen.
“In our class we had collected some money to use for a big party. One Sunday morning our teacher came to class and told us that one of our classmates would be absent—his mother had passed away. We were all very unhappy. The subject of the lesson that morning was that it is better to give than to receive. After she had presented the lesson, she talked about the hard times ahead for the absent boy’s family. ‘How would you students like to follow the Lord’s teachings?” she asked. ‘How would you feel about taking our party fund and giving it to this boy’s family as an expression of love?”
“The decision was unanimous. I remember that I was the treasurer of the class, and the teacher said to the boy’s father, ‘Brother Devenport, the class would like to make an expression of their feelings.’ Then she called on me to make an expression, and afterward I handed our party fund to him. I think that was one of the first times I saw a grown man weep. This simple act of kindness welded our class together. We learned through our own experience that it truly is more blessed to give than to receive.
“I would encourage the youth of the world to seek out opportunities to help other people, to do good to all, and to share what they have with others. It is the pathway to happiness. As we willingly share, we’ll strengthen our testimonies. But if we attempt to keep all good things to ourselves, we’ll lose everything.”

President Romney was born September 19, 1897, in Colonia Juárez, Mexico, to George S. and Teressa Artemesia Redd Romney. When his family fled from Mexico during the Mexican Revolution, two soldiers stopped them, searched their wagon, and took their money. “Then,” said President Romney, “they turned around, drew their guns, and I looked down the barrels of rifles that seemed very large to me. I expected them to shoot, but for some reason they did not, and I have lived to tell the story.”

At his Blue and Gold Banquet for Cub Scouts, David, a Bear Scout, learned a valuable lesson. He was happy when he won a table centerpiece from the banquet, complete with a gold star that had a number one written on it. But another boy at the banquet took David’s star when he lost his own. The other boy’s father made him give it back. “I was really mad at first,” David says. But then he realized, “It wasn’t worth fighting over.” David set an example by giving the other Cub Scout the star since he wanted it so badly.

This story happened in the USA.
Carlos frowned at himself in the bathroom mirror. His face and arms were bright pink. His sunburn was worse than he thought. And he had lots of itchy bug bites on his arms and legs. Hiking with his Primary class was fun, but now his skin hurt all over!
Carlos looked at his backpack on the floor. The sunscreen and bug spray Mom had packed were still inside. He should have used them like she told him to. But he thought he didn’t need them.
Carlos opened the cabinet and found the little bottle his mom always used for sunburns. He rubbed the gel on his face. It felt cool on his hot skin.
Next Carlos put the gel on his arms. But he couldn’t find the bug-bite cream. Soon he gave up. He needed help. He would have to talk to Mom.
He found her in the kitchen. When she saw his sunburned face, she looked worried. Carlos thought she would get mad at him for not wearing sunscreen. But she didn’t.
“Are you OK?” she asked. “That must really hurt.”
“Yeah.” His head hung down. “Will you help me? Please?”
“Of course.” Mom led Carlos to the bathroom. She looked in the cabinet and pulled out a little tube.
“This should help the bites to stop itching,” she said. She rubbed a tiny bit of cream on each bite.
“There,” she said, closing the tube. “I hope that helps you feel better.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Carlos looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry I didn’t use the stuff you packed for me. I should have listened to you. I thought I knew best, but I didn’t.”
She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You’re welcome. Sometimes I think I know best too. Then Heavenly Father shows me that I didn’t know best at all.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Even grown-ups can make mistakes.”
Carlos laughed. Then he frowned. “If I had obeyed you, I wouldn’t hurt so much right now.”
“I think that’s how a lot of Heavenly Father’s children feel when they disobey Him,” Mom said. “They wish they’d listened to Him. And He hurts for His children when they’re in pain, just like I hurt for you now.”
“But He can help them feel better,” said Carlos. “Just like you helped me. Right?”
Mom smiled. “Right! When we repent, Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ can help us. And then we can make better choices in the future.”
Carlos smiled too. His sunburn and bug bites still hurt, but he knew he would heal. And next time, he could make a better choice!

Mike and his younger brothers, Eric and Tom, liked to go hiking with their dad. Dad always said he knew the mountains like the back of his own hand. He had grown up walking the same paths with his own dad, who was a sheepherder. Dad was a teacher, but he still enjoyed getting out in the fresh air and sunshine of the mountains.

“When we come around this bend, you’ll see a little waterfall,” Dad might tell the boys. Or, “Be really quiet here, and you’ll be able to hear the wind whistle up in the cliffs.” He always seemed to know just what to watch or listen for. When Mike and his brothers did what Dad told them, they always found something new to love about the mountains.

But sometimes they just wanted to run, and Dad let them do it when it was safe. One summer day they were excited to reach the top of the trail—a high meadow filled with fresh green grass and flowers of just about every color. And so they took off running through the trees at top speed, even though they were tired from their morning’s hike. They wanted to burst onto that meadow like jackrabbits.

“Stop when you get to the meadow,” Dad called after them. “I’ll meet you there.” They ran ahead, each trying to get in front of the others. When they burst from the trees, neck and neck, butterflies flew up to avoid the running brothers.

The boys stopped a moment while their eyes got used to the light. Then they took off again, forgetting Dad’s instruction. They ran in circles through the deep grass, jumping and dodging, whooping and hollering and tagging each other. “You’re it, Tommy!”

“No, you’re it, Mike!”

Then Eric had an idea. “Let’s race all the way across the meadow!” Tom hesitated. They couldn’t see the far side of the clearing because a grassy hill obscured their view. But Mike wasn’t worried. “I think this is the same meadow we came to last summer,” he assured his brothers.

They gathered back at the trees. “Ready!” Eric shouted. “Set! GO!” The wind felt fresh and cool on Mike’s cheeks and in his hair, and the faster he ran, the more wind he got. Soon he was leading the race. He felt like he could run forever.

“STOP!” a voice bellowed like thunder behind them. All three boys stopped immediately. They turned and saw Dad running toward them from the edge of the meadow. “Come back here beside me,” Dad called, more gently this time. The boys obeyed. “Now, everybody hold hands,” he said. Eric and Tom held Dad’s hands, and Mike held Tom’s little hand. They walked together across the meadow. As they topped the little hill, Dad suddenly stopped.

Just a few paces ahead of them, a sheer cliff dropped down at least 20 or 30 feet. If they had been running, there was no way they could have seen it in time to stop.

“Whoa!” Eric gulped. “That’s pretty scary.”

“Yeah.” Tom shook his head. “Thanks, Dad.”

They turned away from the cliff. Eric and Tom ran back across the meadow, but Mike slipped his hand into Dad’s. “We could have died,” Mike said softly.

“Well, maybe. I’m sure glad you stopped running, even though I didn’t have time to explain. Sometimes we have to obey first and ask questions later!”

“Especially when someone else knows what’s coming, and you don’t,” Mike said.

Dad smiled. “You might find the same thing to be true at other times in your life. Maybe your mom or I, or a teacher, or perhaps the Holy Ghost will give you some instructions. You might not know why right away. But if you trust the person the instructions came from, obey anyway. Later you’ll understand why.”

Mike nodded. He couldn’t always know where cliffs were hidden, but he could always listen to those who knew more than he did.

You may relate to Trevor’s experience in his childhood, being raised in a family where the gospel is strong and testimonies blossom naturally. However, that is not the case for everyone, nor was it for us. President Hinckley once reported in conference about a gentleman who came to know and accept the gospel in a much different manner than Trevor. He related that the wife expressed to a relative that something was missing in her life. The relative suggested she call the missionaries which she did. But her husband was rude to them and told them not to come again.

After several months, a new set of missionaries came across their names and proceeded to make another visit. The friendly, smiling elder and his companion knocked on the door and asked if they could come in for just a few minutes. Fortunately, the husband consented this time. Line upon line the missionaries taught him. As he responded, his faith grew into greater understanding. Ward members befriended him and involved him and his family in their activities.

His choice to be baptized was described as a giant step of faith. Perhaps you’ve known someone like this. He received his first calling, and this led to other responsibilities, and the light of faith strengthened his life with each new opportunity and experience.

At the time President Hinckley gave this talk, the husband had become a capable and beloved stake president, and above all, a man of great faith.

Brother Soliai and his family were the only Latter-day Saints in their little village of Nuuuli on Tutuila. On one occasion, he asked Opapo to come bless his children, his house, his property, and his friends. Present on that occasion was a wealthy nonmember widow, Salataima Puailoa, who was deeply troubled because her husband’s family was taking steps to deprive her of the land she had inherited from him. Impressed by the blessings, she requested one herself; but Opapo was reluctant because she was not a member.
She investigated the Church and was baptized, then came to him again and requested the blessing. In it, Opapo promised that she would receive the land without any hindrance from her husband’s relatives and that she would, if she were faithful, be an instrument in the Lord’s hands to further the work of the Church in American Samoa.
In the early 1950’s, that blessing was fulfilled. The Church purchased some of her property and on it built a high school, faculty housing, a large welfare farm, and a stake center.

One year I attended a class at BYU Women’s Conference where Heidi Swinton shared her experiences writing for a PBS broadcast about the Prophet Joseph Smith. As she wrestled with how to write a script that was primarily for an audience of people not of our faith, a scripture given to Oliver Cowdery, in the sixth section of the Doctrine and Covenants, came powerfully to her mind and heart: “Stand by my servant Joseph, faithfully, in whatsoever difficult circumstances he may be for the word’s sake.”17
As Heidi read that scripture, I felt God’s love for His prophet and His invitation to me to “stand by [his] servant Joseph.” I felt that instead of leaving this experience as one drop in my “cloud of witnesses,” I should add additional witnesses of the divine mission of the Prophet. I looked for the fruits of his labors, as I knew that “ye shall know them by their fruits.” 18 When I prayed for a testimony of principles in the Book of Mormon, I knew that those words came through Joseph’s inspired translation. I treasured my witness of the reality of his First Vision. Over the years, my testimony of and gratitude for the Prophet Joseph Smith grew. Today, whenever I am in a situation where he is being criticized, I know that I can stand by Joseph faithfully because of a “cloud of witnesses” I have received of his divine mission.

Skull Valley, Utah—that was where I spent two summers as a youth. I lived on Long Island, New York, but my father, who had grown up on a farm in Idaho, told me, “You’re never going to learn how to work until you work on a ranch.” My uncle had a ranch in Skull Valley, and so I, a city boy, was sent to live and work there.
The first few days I spent on the ranch left me exhausted. My entire body ached, and I wondered how I could get through each day. I was discouraged and wanted to go home, but I didn’t tell this to my relatives.
One day I was moving bales of hay with my cousin, and I was having a hard time because I was so tired. My cousin gave me a little push and said, “You aren’t lazy—you just don’t know how to work.” I decided then that I’d learn how to work—and I did. And as I worked on the ranch that summer, I came to enjoy it and my body thrived on it.
I had many aunts and uncles who lived in the Utah area, and I stayed in their various homes throughout the summer months. I helped round up wild horses, bale hay, care for the animals, and do other tasks. We worked from before sunrise until sundown, and as time wore on, I became very close to my cousins. I loved the joy of just sitting and talking with them in the evenings when our chores were through.
During those two summers, I came to appreciate all the work it takes to plant and irrigate, and then, after all of that is done, how hard it is to harvest. The first summer I spent at the ranch was during a very dry year, and the fields were swarming with crickets. The farmers didn’t give up, however, and they didn’t blame God that things were not going well. They just prepared to plant the next year.
Even if conditions are perfect for farmers, there still is an incredible amount of work to do. They know that you don’t get something for nothing. My experience in Skull Valley helped me understand the law of the harvest, as described in Galatians 6:7 [Gal. 6:7]: “For whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap.” We reach most of our important goals only after a great deal of effort and hard work.

When he was fourteen, Joseph’s family moved to Manchester, New York, where they were soon caught up in the religious excitement of the period. Some of them joined the Presbyterian church, but Joseph could not decide which church was true.
One day he read James 1:5: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him.” He decided to follow this advice.
It was a spring morning in 1820 when Joseph walked to a woods near his home to ask God which church was true. He later wrote about what happened, saying, “I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me.
“… When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!” (JS—H 1:16–17.)
When Joseph asked which church he should join, Jesus answered that he should join none of them.
Joseph’s family believed him when he told them what he had seen and heard, but others in the community began to persecute him because he would not deny that he had seen a vision.
Three years later, on the evening of September 21, 1823, the Angel Moroni appeared beside Joseph’s bed while the young man was praying. Moroni told Joseph, among other things, about a record written upon gold plates and hidden in a hillside. He said that Joseph was to translate it. The angel appeared to Joseph three times that night, each time repeating the same message. The next day Joseph went to the place he had seen in the vision, and there he found a stone box containing the plates.
Joseph was not allowed to take the plates and translate them until four years later. When word got out that Joseph had some gold plates, the persecutions against him increased and many people attempted to steal the plates. But Joseph always managed to keep them safely hidden.
On May 15, 1829, a part of the plates Joseph was translating was about baptism for the remission of sins. Curious, he and his scribe, Oliver Cowdery, prayed about it. John the Baptist appeared to them and conferred the Aaronic Priesthood upon them and told them to baptize each other. Joseph baptized Oliver, and then Oliver baptized Joseph. They then ordained each other to the Aaronic Priesthood. Later they received the Melchizedek Priesthood from Peter, James, and John, the ancient apostles.
On April 6, 1830, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was formally organized. Its membership grew rapidly. In 1831, Joseph and his wife Emma moved to Kirtland, Ohio, where many of the new members were gathering. While there, Joseph prepared for publication the revelations he had received so far. This Book of Commandments was later expanded and published as the Doctrine and Covenants.
On March 27, 1836, Joseph dedicated the Kirtland Temple. Only two years later he and other faithful followers were forced to flee to Far West, Missouri, because of persecutions.
When the Saints first arrived at Far West, they were accepted by the local citizens. But as their numbers and political influence grew, mobs persecuted the Saints and burned some of their homes. Governor Boggs sent thousands of troops to Far West with instructions to kill all of the Saints if necessary to restore peace. The Saints were forced to give up their guns, and mobs entered Far West and ransacked their homes. The Saints were then told to leave the state before the next spring or be killed.
Meanwhile Joseph and several other Church leaders had been taken prisoner. After spending about six months in various jails without being legally charged with any offense, the guards allowed them to escape. They fled to Quincy, Illinois, where many of the Saints had gone after being driven out of Far West.
In May 1839 Joseph directed the purchase of a large piece of swampland in Commerce, Illinois, and a great many Saints began to move into the area. Commerce was later renamed Nauvoo.
Nauvoo grew. The swampland was drained and cleared, and buildings were completed. Among other things, Joseph oversaw the building of a new temple, edited a newspaper, ran a store, and served as mayor of the city and head of the Nauvoo militia.
Once again the neighboring communities came to resent the Saints because of their strength, prosperity, and political influence. The Nauvoo Expositor, a local newspaper, added to the Saints’ trouble by printing lies about the Church leaders.
On June 10, 1844, a group of men under orders from the city council destroyed the newspaper’s press. Joseph and some of the other brethren were charged with inciting a riot, but were later found not guilty.
Governor Ford wanted Joseph to be tried again at Carthage, Illinois, Joseph felt that if he went there, he would probably be killed, so on June 23, 1844, he rowed across the Mississippi River to avoid arrest. In a letter, Emma pleaded with him to return and surrender. Joseph also learned that some of the Saints were calling him a coward for leaving. “If my life is of no value to my friends,” he said, “it is of none to myself.” He returned to Nauvoo, and on Monday, June 24, he and the others charged in the case went to Carthage to surrender.
When they got to Carthage, they were released on bail until a circuit court judge could hear the case. Joseph and Hyrum went to talk to Governor Ford. While there, they were rearrested on charges of treason.
Joseph and Hyrum were again jailed; John Taylor and Willard Richards went with them.
On June 27, 1844, shortly after 5:00 P.M., a mob rushed up the jail stairs to the room where the prisoners were being held. The culprits tried to break through the door, but were unable to. Shooting through the door, they hit Hyrum, who fell, saying, “I am a dead man.”
Joseph went to the window where he was shot twice from inside the building and twice more from outside. He fell out of the window to the ground and died. John Taylor was shot four times and lay under a bed, severely wounded. Willard Richards was not injured during the shooting.
After the martyrdom, John Taylor wrote, “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it. … He lived great, and he died great in the eyes of God and his people; and like most of the Lord’s anointed in ancient times, has sealed his mission and his works with his own blood …” (D&C 135:3).

A four-year-old Brazilian girl, Mayara Fernanda Dos Santos, suffering from leukemia with oxygen going into her nose from a tube, was blessed in 1996 by Elder Claudio Costa and myself in Curitiba, Brazil. After the blessing, little Mayara smilingly wiped a tear from her anxious mother’s cheek. Instinctively wise beyond her years, Mayara knows how to “comfort those that stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:9), including her precious parents.

When I was on my mission in Ireland, I was sent with my companion to open up a city called Tralee, which had no members. One day a woman answered her door and surprisingly called us “elders” and invited us in. I noticed she had not looked at our name tags, so I asked her what she knew about the Church. She smiled and proudly told us she was a member but had been inactive for years. I asked her if she still believed, and she told us that yes, she still had a testimony.

When I asked her why she had gone inactive, she explained that she had never been able to break her smoking habit and that every time she went to Church and the members smelled the smoke on her clothes and breath, she was made to feel guilty and unwanted. She then turned her head away for about sixty seconds. When she looked back at us, she had tears streaming down her cheeks. With her lip quivering, she sweetly and humbly replied, “I sure wish everybody’s sins smelled.”

Didn’t Jesus invite us all to come as we are? Didn’t Jesus say, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her” (John 8:7)? Didn’t Jesus teach us to “leave the ninety and nine and go after [the one]” (Luke 15:4)?

Someone told me this story:
“ I remember that one day as soon as I woke up I stayed in bed for a few minutes and suddenly a very bad thought came to my mind, something that I had never thought of before or would have never thought of myself and I immediately aloud said NO. And the thought was gone And I got down on my knees and thanked God for helping me not to entertain that thought, not to allow it to stay and dirty my mind and draw me away from the Spirit of the Lord. That day, I won a battle, but I still have a whole war ahead of me.”

My first contact with President N. Eldon Tanner was in Canada more than twenty years ago. We had called a thirty-minute meeting for 7:00 p.m., prior to the other meetings, just to meet with the stake presidents. I remember well that night when seven o’clock arrived—two of us were there. I was there and a man I had never met before, a President Tanner. I will never forget the remark and the lesson that I learned as I looked at my watch, saw that it was seven o’clock and asked this man I had never met before, “President Tanner, what do you suggest we do?”

He looked at me and replied, “You’re here; I’m here; it’s seven o’clock. Let’s start.”

Opposition sometimes led to physical violence. The most prominent such incident in Ohio took place during the night of March 24, 1832, while Joseph Smith and his family were living at the home of John Johnson in Hiram, Ohio. That night a gang of more than two dozen men pulled the Prophet and Sidney Rigdon from their beds, choked them into submission, and dragged them into nearby fields. They scratched the Prophet fiercely with their fingernails, tried to force acid into his mouth, then smeared his naked body with tar and feathers. Elder Rigdon was left delirious from the force of his head bumping against the ground. When the Prophet left a week later on a second visit to Missouri, his antagonists pursued him. He sought protection on a river steamer and completed his trip in safety. Thereafter, he almost continuously required guards to protect him from threats of mobbings and assassination.

The Church was appearing to become, as the scripture says, as a stone cut out of a mountain without hands and rolling forth to fill the whole earth (see Dan. 2:44–45; D&C 65:2). Political officials worried about its moving outward and abroad from the immediate locale, illegal charges were leveled, court documents and summonses were issued, and vigilantes gathered at Carthage, the county seat. Joseph and Hyrum were to appear to answer charges against them.
As Joseph Smith left Nauvoo for Carthage that 24th day of June, he would have looked for the last time on the city and the magnificent temple that was nearly completed. He knew he would never look upon it again.
To his companions who were accompanying him to Carthage, the Prophet Joseph gave these prophetic words: “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God, and towards all men. … AND IT SHALL YET BE SAID OF ME—HE WAS MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD” (D&C 135:4).
Why did he not turn back? There was time to escape. He was not yet in the hands of his enemies. Friends were at his side who would die for him if necessary. Some suggested he flee across the Mississippi where he would be safe. But he continued to Carthage.
It was midnight when the journey from Nauvoo ended. Joseph and his brethren entered Carthage, and his fate was sealed. His enemies had awaited their coming with great anxiety. The governor, who was present, persuaded the mob to disperse that night by promising them that they should have full satisfaction.
The next day, after a hearing, Joseph was released on bail but rearrested on a trumped-up charge of treason. Bail was refused, and Joseph and Hyrum were placed in Carthage Jail.
The last night of Joseph’s life on earth he bore a powerful testimony to the guards and others who assembled at the door of the jail of the divinity of the Book of Mormon, also declaring that the gospel had been restored and the kingdom of God established on the earth. It was for this reason that he was incarcerated in prison, not for violating any law of God or man.
It was late at night when the prisoners tried to get some rest. At first Joseph and Hyrum occupied the only bed in the jail room, but a gunshot during the night and a disturbance led Joseph’s friends to insist that he take a place between the two of them on the floor. They would protect him with their own bodies. Joseph asked John S. Fullmer to use his arm for a pillow while they conversed; then he turned to Dan Jones, on the other side, and whispered, “Are you afraid to die?” And this staunch friend answered, “Has that time come, think you? Engaged in such a cause I do not think that death would have many terrors.”
Joseph replied, “You will yet see Wales, and fulfill the mission appointed you before you die” (History of the Church, 6:601).
The next day, the fateful 27th of June 1844, all but two of Joseph’s friends were made to leave the prison, so that now only four brethren remained—Joseph and Hyrum and two of the Apostles, both of whom during the day offered to die for him. The day was spent in writing letters to their wives, conversing on principles of the gospel, and singing. Between three and four o’clock in the afternoon the Prophet requested Elder John Taylor to sing the words of “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief.”
This comforting song breathes in every line the very spirit and message of Christ. Only a person who loved his Savior and his fellowmen would have requested to hear these words at such a time.
When Elder Taylor had finished the song, the Prophet’s eyes were wet with tears, and he said, “Sing that song again, will you, John?” (quoted in Claire Noall, Intimate Disciple: A Portrait of Willard Richards, Apostle to Joseph Smith—Cousin of Brigham Young [1957], 440).
John “replied that he did not feel like singing. He was oppressed with a sense of coming disaster” (George Q. Cannon, Life of Joseph Smith the Prophet [1986], 524).
“You’ll feel better once you begin, and so will I,” replied Joseph (quoted in Noall, Intimate Disciple, 440).
Hyrum also pleaded with him to repeat the song. And Elder Taylor did.
This time his voice was even sadder and more tender than at first, and when he concluded, all were hushed, but four hearts beat faster, for they had carefully listened to the fateful words:
My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,
He asked if I for him would die.
The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill,
But my free spirit cried, “I will!”
(Hymns, number 29)
The other three heard Joseph murmur as an echo to the song, “I will!”
The love of Christ was in the song; the love of man was there in that room in the Carthage Jail.
While this spirit of love and service for men expressed in song and prayer filled the hearts of all within the jail, the mob was gathering. The final details you know.
When the news of the awful crime reached Nauvoo, the citizens were overcome with grief and horror. Such sorrow had not been known in Nauvoo before. The warm summer sun left them cold and chill. Their prophet and their patriarch were dead. What else mattered?
When the wagons carrying the bodies were still a long way off, the entire population of Nauvoo went out to meet them. No greater tribute could be paid than was paid that day to Joseph and Hyrum Smith. Such universal love from those who knew them best could never have been won by selfish and designing men. Only love begets love. Once when Joseph had been asked how he had acquired so many followers and retained them, he replied, “It is because I possess the principle of love. All I can offer the world is a good heart and a good hand” (History of the Church, 5:498).
Sariah Workman, an early immigrant, wrote, “I always felt a divine influence whenever I was in his presence” (in “Joseph Smith, the Prophet,” Young Woman’s Journal, December 1906, 542).
John Taylor, who was wounded at Carthage and later became prophet, said of him: “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it. In the short space of twenty years, he has brought forth the Book of Mormon, which he translated by the gift and power of God, and has been the means of publishing it on two continents; has sent the fulness of the everlasting gospel, which it contained, to the four quarters of the earth; has brought forth the revelations and commandments which compose this book of Doctrine and Covenants, and many other wise documents and instructions for the benefit of the children of men; gathered many thousands of the Latter-day Saints, founded a great city, and left a fame and name that cannot be slain. He lived great, and he died great in the eyes of God and his people; and like most of the Lord’s anointed in ancient times, has sealed his mission and his works with his own blood” (D&C 135:3).
I give my love and testament that God our Father lives, that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, crucified for the sins of the world “to cleanse it from all unrighteousness; that through him all might be saved” (D&C 76:41–42). He is our Redeemer, our Lord, our King. His kingdom is again established on the earth. In the year 1820 God our Eternal Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, appeared to Joseph Smith, who was foreordained to be the instrument of the Restoration, which is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This Church, by divine direction, is preparing the world for His Second Coming—for He will come again. This I humbly declare in His holy name.

One day when I was in the fifth grade, my teacher called my name. “Sheldon,” she said, “could you please come out into the hall with me?”
Everyone looked at me as I nervously followed her out of the classroom. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out what I might have done wrong. I couldn’t think of anything, but I was sure that having a teacher call you out into the hallway was rarely a good thing.
My teacher, Mrs. Ruth Rampton, explained that she was going to teach a lesson that afternoon on trees. “I need a book to teach this lesson,” she explained, “and I’ve left it home. Could you please go and get it for me?” I sighed a sigh of relief. She then described the book to me, handed me the key to her home, and said, “This will let you in the front door. I left the book in either the kitchen or the living room. After you find it, be sure to lock the door behind you.”
As I walked the quarter mile to Mrs. Rampton’s home, I held the key in my hand. It represented a great trust my teacher had placed in me. She had chosen me as someone she could depend upon. That trust she placed in me felt good. I decided that I liked being trusted.
Being trusted makes us feel happy, but we must earn that trust. It is very special. My brother Bill was six years older than I was. He was my ideal, I wanted to be just like him. I would follow him and his friends around and, although I am sure he sometimes thought of me as a little pest, he was good to me and allowed me to tag along.
When Bill was in high school, he had saved enough money to buy himself a car. I remember well the day he drove his very first car home. It was his pride and joy, and he spent many hours shining it up. One day as we were coming home, he stopped at the bottom of the lane that led to our barn and asked me if I would like to drive his car up the lane, which was permissible in those days on a farm. Of course I would! I couldn’t believe that he would trust me to drive his new car—I knew how much it meant to him.
I ran around and jumped into the driver’s seat. He showed me where the key was, how to shift gears, and where the gas pedal was. My foot just barely reached the pedal. I knew everything I needed to know to start the car, and off we went. It was great! It was only when we reached the top of the hill that I realized he hadn’t shown me how to stop the car, and we ran right into the side of the barn. I felt so bad! I was sure that Bill would never trust me to drive his car again. However, a few days later he asked me again if I wanted to drive his car up the lane—but this time he showed me where the brake was! I was so grateful that he understood that running into the barn had just been an accident and that it hadn’t destroyed his trust in me.
Growing up for me was much different than it is for many of you. Oh, I had good parents as you have, who taught me and set a good example for me. I went to Primary as you do. I learned the Articles of Faith, we sang many of the same Primary songs you sing, and I learned about Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, just as you do today. But in many ways my life was different from yours. I lived in a small town in Utah where my pioneer grandparents had settled many years before. I always lived in the same home. All my friends—everyone I knew—were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My world was very small, and my life was very simple: no television, no video games; I had never even heard of a computer!
Today you Primary children live in over 160 countries throughout the world. Some of your families are newly converted to the Church. Some of you move often and have lived in many homes. Some of you are the only members of the Church in your neighborhood or even in your school. You have access to the entire world through the television and the Internet. It is a wonderful time to be alive! You have many more opportunities than I had as a child. Along with the opportunities come challenges. You have so many more choices than I ever had. There will be those who will tempt you to do things that you know aren’t right.
It is not only important to be trustworthy, but it is important to know whom you can trust. You will learn many things and will need to make choices that will sometimes be difficult. You need to place your trust in those who will lead you to do what is right:
You can trust in Heavenly Father. You are His children. He hears and answers your prayers. He loves you and will always be there for you.
You can trust Jesus Christ. His teachings tell us how we should live our lives so that we can return and live with Him again.
You can trust the Holy Ghost. If you listen to His promptings, He will lead you and guide you and help you make right choices.
You can trust your parents. They love you and want only the best for you.
You can trust our prophet. There is always safety in following the prophet.
You can put your trust in the scriptures. They are true and will give you direction in your life as you read them every day.
You can trust your teachers and leaders. They love you and are teaching you the things that Heavenly Father wants you to do.
We must always be trustworthy. We must learn whom we can trust to help us make right choices. Perhaps the most important thing of all is that we must let Heavenly Father know that He can trust us—that He can trust us to do the things that are right, that He can trust us to keep His commandments to be loving and kind and obedient and honest and to set a good example for all those around us. Heavenly Father wants us to be trustworthy, and when we are, we will receive the wonderful blessings of peace and joy and happiness that He has to share with all His children.