Gospel Story Finder

Once, when Otto was leading a San Fernando, California, LDS Boy Scout Troop, he gave a small, laughed-at lad the important task of notching his stick with a nail each time they crossed the river. Faithful to the task, the boy scratched 252 marks on the stick by the trip’s end. (Brother Fife, now choir president of the Cedar City [Utah] 5th Ward, has led 1,060 LDS Scouts through the Narrows in all.)

The story of Helen Keller is something of a parable suggesting how divine love can transform a willing soul. Helen was born in the state of Alabama in the United States in 1880. When just 19 months old, she suffered an undiagnosed illness that left her both deaf and blind. She was extremely intelligent and became frustrated as she tried to understand and make sense of her surroundings. When Helen felt the moving lips of family members and realized that they used their mouths to speak, “she flew into a rage [because] she was unable to join in the conversation.” By the time Helen was six, her need to communicate and her frustration grew so intense that her “outbursts occurred daily, sometimes hourly.”

Helen’s parents hired a teacher for their daughter, a woman named Anne Sullivan. Just as we have in Jesus Christ one who understands our infirmities, Anne Sullivan had struggled with her own serious hardships and understood Helen’s infirmities. At age five, Anne had contracted a disease that caused painful scarring of the cornea and left her mostly blind. When Anne was eight, her mother died; her father abandoned her and her younger brother, Jimmie; and they were sent to a “poor house,” where conditions were so deplorable that Jimmie died after only three months. Through her own dogged persistence, Anne gained entry to the Perkins School for the Blind and vision impaired, where she succeeded brilliantly. A surgical operation gave her improved vision so that she was able to read print. When Helen Keller’s father contacted the Perkins School seeking someone to become a teacher for his daughter, Anne Sullivan was selected.

It was not a pleasant experience at the beginning. Helen “hit, pinched and kicked her teacher and knocked out one of her teeth. [Anne] finally gained control by moving with [Helen] into a small cottage on the Kellers’ property. Through patience and firm consistency, she finally won the child’s heart and trust.” Similarly, as we come to trust rather than resist our divine Teacher, He can work with us to enlighten and lift us to a new reality.

To help Helen learn words, Anne would spell the names of familiar objects with her finger on the palm of Helen’s hand. “[Helen] enjoyed this ‘finger play,’ but she didn’t understand until the famous moment when [Anne] spelled ‘w-a-t-e-r’ while pumping water over [Helen’s] hand. [Helen] later wrote:
“‘Suddenly I felt a misty consciousness as of something forgotten … and somehow the mystery of language was revealed to me. I knew then that “w-a-t-e-r” meant the wonderful cool something that was flowing over my hand. That living word awakened my soul, gave it light, hope, joy, set it free! … Everything had a name, and each name gave birth to a new thought. As we returned to the house[,] every object … I touched seemed to quiver with life.’”

As Helen Keller grew to adulthood, she became known for her love of language, her skill as a writer, and her eloquence as a public speaker.

In a movie depicting the life of Helen Keller, her parents are portrayed as satisfied with Anne Sullivan’s work once she has domesticated their wild daughter to the extent that Helen will sit politely at dinner, eat normally, and fold her napkin at the end of the meal. But Anne knew Helen was capable of much, much more and that she had significant contributions to make. Even so, we may be quite content with what we have done in our lives and that we simply are what we are, while our Savior comprehends a glorious potential that we perceive only “through a glass, darkly.” Each of us can experience the ecstasy of divine potential unfolding within us, much like the joy Helen Keller felt when words came to life, giving light to her soul and setting it free. Each of us can love and serve God and be empowered to bless our fellowman. “As it is written, Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.”

In September I was invited to give a talk about my conversion at Stake Conference. I was so nervous, but I knew that I had the Holy Spirit with me and I knew that what I was about to say was true. At university I studied Egyptology and Ancient History, and the knowledge I acquired has helped to strengthen my testimony regarding the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have been able to find many links between the Book of Mormon and the civilisation of ancient Egypt.

On the day of my baptism I was nervous – not about the decision that I had made to become a member of the church, nor about my belief in our Saviour Jesus Christ and the Book of Mormon – but because I was worried about being fully immersed in water. However, I should not have worried. I cannot adequately describe the feeling I felt as I was immersed and raised out of the font feeling clean, fresh, pure and rebuilt. As I was confirmed I could feel the Holy Spirit at work. I had a tingling sensation down my spine, I felt calm, strong, and galvanised. I still feel the Holy Spirit with me, especially when I study the scriptures and pray to Heavenly Father. When the Holy Spirit is near I feel goosebumps on my arms and legs, and this sensation gives me comfort, and I know that I will never be alone.

My life has changed dramatically since my baptism. I continued with my weekly lessons with the missionaries to help further my knowledge and understanding of the Book of Mormon. I have spoken publicly regarding my testimony and I have written an article for the Liahona.
I love going to sacrament meetings every week, I have joined the choir and I defy anyone not to leave a Sunday service with a big smile across their face and a feeling of empowerment for the week ahead. I have repaired the relationships within my biological family, but I have also gained a new ‘church family’ and I have a genuine love for the brothers and sisters in my ward.
I am a much happier and far less stressed person since becoming a member of the Church. Everyone has noticed and commented on it, and I am so happy that my husband decided to be baptised too. I look forward to our future – serving in the church, participating in ordinances, attending the temple, and being sealed to my husband for all eternity.
The gospel has transformed my life and for the first time in a long time I am hopeful and excited to see what Heavenly Father has planned for me.

When I joined the Church at age 25, it was difficult to attend church because checkpoints, curfews, and other travel restrictions were imposed on us. I had to risk my life to sneak out so I could take the sacrament and be with fellow Latter-day Saints. It was hard being the only member of the Church in my family and in my town. I wanted to be with members of the Church, yet I was turned back by the soldiers almost every week.
One Sabbath as I was trying to cross the checkpoint, the soldier told me that I was not allowed out and demanded that I go home. I looked at the soldier and remembered the Savior’s words: “Love your enemies” (see Matthew 5:43–44).
I realized then that I did not love that soldier. The hate I felt as a teenager had disappeared after I joined the Church, but I did not love my enemies. The Savior Jesus Christ gave us this commandment, yet my heart could not love those occupying soldiers. This bothered me for days, especially since I was preparing to go to the temple at that time.
One day I came across the following scripture: “Pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ” (Moroni 7:48). I felt Mormon was speaking to me personally and showing me how to love.
I decided to ask Heavenly Father for help. I fasted and prayed for help to love my enemies. For days I felt no change, but I didn’t realize that Heavenly Father was gradually changing my heart. About a year later, as I was trying to pass through one of the checkpoints, the soldier told me I was not allowed in. This time I felt differently. As I looked into the eyes of that soldier, I felt an amazing love for him. I felt how much Heavenly Father loved him, and I saw him as a child of God.
I now know, like Nephi, that the Lord gives us no commandment save He shall prepare a way for us that we may accomplish the thing which He commands us (see 1 Nephi 3:7). When Christ commanded us to love our enemies, He knew it was possible with His help. He can teach us to love others if we but trust Him and learn from His great example.
Whom do you need to forgive? Prayerfully consider an appropriate time and place to speak with this person (or people) and express your love and forgiveness.

At one time, people from local wards provided such ministering visits. Then the stake president felt prompted to encourage the branch presidency to ask the Lord which residents could serve and in what callings.
“When the branch president extended the calling to me to be the Relief Society president,” Sharon says, “I thought, I have received too many blessings to say no.” She, in turn, received inspiration about who her counselors should be. “Marlene came to mind first,” she says. “We had worked together on a stake level, preparing names for temple work. I knew her husband had passed away not long ago, and even though she was struggling with that, I knew she was faithful.”
Then, after a sacrament meeting, Sharon looked around the room, seeking inspiration. “I saw Dorothy. She smiled at me, and I knew she was the other counselor. The Lord guided me to both of them, and He didn’t make a mistake on either one.”
Sharon also says that she can see the advantage of having people from the facility serve others in the facility. “We’re closer to the situation,” she says. “We understand that we’re sometimes inept, sometimes we forget so much, and sometimes we just don’t feel well. And we know how to laugh about the problems we face together.”
“The people who live here are already kind of like a big family,” Marlene says. “We eat our meals together, so we see each other three times a day. Then sometimes we’re together at activities too. So I think the stake president was inspired when he felt there were people here who could serve each other.”
“We know what’s happening from day to day. We know if someone needs help or if someone gets sick,” Dorothy says.
In addition to ministering and helping others to minister, the members of the presidency organize Relief Society teaching. They suggest residents who might be called to teach, and they adjust assignments and schedules according to teachers’ individual needs.
“But our main job is to remind other residents that the Lord loves them,” Marlene says. “And as we do that, we feel His love too.”
“We all have struggles,” Sharon says. “I’ve got problems now I didn’t have five months ago. But when I get feeling sorry for myself, I think, ‘Hey, this is nothing compared to what the Savior went through.’ We are here to progress and grow. And even in old age, if you let your experiences teach you, you can keep learning forever.”
Because they have each lost loved ones, the presidency members have also learned a lot about compassion. They know how to succor those who stand in need of comfort. For example, in one year Marlene lost four family members and a best friend.
“Because we’ve been through tough things,” she says, “we can help others get through tough things too. If you’re struggling with something, lose yourself in service to others. That’s what this calling has helped me to do.”
The members of the presidency bring a wealth of experience and understanding to their callings. They have lived and worked in many places—California, Ohio, Wyoming, and Utah. They have served in the temple, in ward and stake callings, in Primary, Young Women, and humanitarian service. But Dorothy had never held a calling in Relief Society, until now.
“What is the motto of the Relief Society?” she says. “‘Charity Never Faileth.’ That’s true when you’re young, but it’s equally true when you’re older. As a presidency, we’re learning that every day.”
“I think we work really well together,” Sharon says, with a wink, “for a presidency that averages 90 years old.”

“Elder Confer, teach me,” said the voice on the other end of the line, “but don’t teach me about the Book of Mormon.” Christine Yong, our new investigator, was wanting to know more about our religion.
As missionaries in the Singapore Mission, my companion and I were excited to have an investigator like Christine. She and her sister Sara seemed to be sincerely interested in the gospel. But during the weeks we had shared the gospel with them, they had some doubts about Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. We weren’t about to give up on them though, so we set up another appointment.
I went with our branch mission leader, Patrick Lim, while my companion went with another member to other appointments. Brother Lim and I planned to teach Christine about repentance, baptism, and the gift of the Holy Ghost. We usually invited people to be baptized when we talked about baptism. But both of us wondered, given all the challenges she was facing, whether Christine would be ready for baptism. We prayed for the Spirit before meeting with her.
During the discussion, Christine seemed to understand repentance and baptism. But as Brother Lim taught about receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, Christine voiced her concerns.
“Elders, I’m not sure if God is there and if He would really answer my prayer,” she hesitantly admitted.
We described to her the calm, peaceful feelings the Spirit brings, but she wasn’t familiar with the influence of the Holy Ghost. She had tried to pray and read the scriptures, but things just didn’t seem to be coming together.
For a moment, we were at a loss for answers. Then a scripture came to my mind, and I felt impressed to share it, even though it was in the Book of Mormon—the book she had requested us not to teach from. I asked Christine to read Ether 12:6: “I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.”
As I explained that our faith in the Lord is tested before we receive an answer from Heavenly Father, I felt the Spirit strongly in my heart. I prayed Christine would feel it too. And she did.
“I’m so touched. I’m really very touched,” Christine said, as tears flowed down her cheeks.
“This is the Spirit, Christine. This is what the Spirit feels like,” Brother Lim and I said as tears started to flow down our cheeks too.
After we had shared that verse with her and taught her further, Christine accepted our invitation and was soon baptized.

The selection of a site for the New Zealand Temple illustrates this point. President Wendell B. Mendenhall of the San Joaquin Stake was assigned by President David O. McKay to investigate possible temple sites in the lands of the South Seas. He investigated potential locations in Auckland, New Zealand, where the mission headquarters are located but felt no satisfaction.
“Then one day I felt I should go to Hamilton to visit the college. While in the car on the way, the whole thing came to me in an instant: The temple should be there by the college. The Church facilities for construction were already there, and that was the center of the population of the mission. Then, in my mind, I could see the area even before I arrived, and I could envision the hill where the temple should stand. As soon as I arrived at the college and drove over the top of the hill, my vision was confirmed. In my heart I felt that the Lord had especially made this hill for his temple, everything about it was so majestic and beautiful.” (Allie Howe, “A Temple in the South Pacific,” Improvement Era, Nov. 1955, p. 811.)

There is a story about a young builder who had just gone into business for himself. A wealthy friend of his father came to him and said: “To help get you established, I am going to have you build a house for me. Here are the plans. Don’t spare expenses. I want the very finest materials used, and I want the best workmanship. Forget the cost. Just send me the bills.”
The young builder became obsessed with the desire to enrich himself through this generous and unrestricted offer. Instead of employing the best laborers and buying the finest materials, he cheated his benefactor in every way possible. Finally, the last poor-quality nail was driven into the last poor-quality wall, and the builder handed over the keys and bills to his father’s old friend. That gentleman wrote a check to pay for the full cost of building the house and then handed the keys back to the builder. “The home you have just built,” he said with a pleasant smile, “is my present to you. May you live in it in great happiness!”

While the waterfall project was underway, Brother Kamauoha challenged the young girls to make a path that would lead people from the village to the waterfall. They planned one pathway, but upon inspection they could see it wasn’t right, and so Brother Kamauoha challenged them to try another one. This still wasn’t any good. They reported to him, and he confirmed that it wasn’t right and told them that the reason it wasn’t right was because they hadn’t tried hard enough. “The third time they did their best, and the planned path was perfect. It curved properly, they had avoided the boggy spots, and the entire path was ideal,” he said.
Every evening after school the girls carried baskets of pebbles up from the river and placed them on the path. Each of them would carry 25 to 40 baskets of rocks each evening, and with everyone working, it took only a few months to complete.
Then the boys and girls brought young trees from the mountains to plant beside the trail. They also brought orchids, tree ferns, and other plants to make the trail beautiful. And they named their trail Losa (Rose) Lane.

“I have had many experiences that have made me realize that the Lord will help you to do the impossible. When you operate like this, you learn that keeping the Spirit is the most important thing.
“One day we had a work crew organized, and we needed 13,000 fathoms of sennett (rope made from coconut husks) to tie the pieces of the roof on the McKay house together. I had received promises from many people that they would supply the rope, but when I went to pick it up, no one had it ready. After driving all over the island, I had collected only about 30 fathoms. I was discouraged, and so I complained to God. In my prayers I said, ‘We are working hard, and yet I can’t get the help I need.’
“I had to stop at the mission home to confirm another appointment, and one of the supervising elders said, ‘Brother Kamauoha, I have some sennett you can use.’
“I thought, ‘How nice,’ but I was sure an elder’s little souvenir roll of sennett wouldn’t really help us. He went into his room and came out with this big roll. He handed it to me and said he had about 13,000 fathoms as he wanted to build a Samoan fale (house) with it when he got home to the U.S.
“You can bet I hurriedly went back to the Lord and retracted my complaining. I was truly sorry for ever being discouraged.”

“I was about eight or nine years old when I lost the sight in my right eye. But it wasn’t until I looked through binoculars that I realized I could see only through my left eye. I lost the use of that eye when I was about fourteen years old. Now I can see only the difference between light and dark.”

But having lost the ability to see with his eyes, Brother Juntratip has been able to develop the ability to see with the Spirit.

“I was in my late twenties when I first met the Latter-day Saint missionaries. They were bicycling by the house one day and saw me. They stopped and introduced themselves and asked if I had ever heard of the Church. When I said no, they told me about Joseph Smith and the First Vision.
“From what they told me, I felt that Joseph Smith was a good man who had done nothing wrong. At their suggestion, I knelt and prayed to Heavenly Father to know if what they had told me was true. When I got up from my knees, I had this soft, warm feeling down my spine.”
The elders arranged to come again, this time bringing Braille editions of the Book of Mormon and The Articles of Faith by Elder James E. Talmage—both in English.
But Pornchai says he had been prepared for this moment. His father, a bank clerk, started teaching him English when Pornchai was nine years old. When he was ten, he began working with a tutor. Later, he enrolled in a four-year high school correspondence course offered by a college for the blind in the United States. He had completed the course and received an American high school diploma shortly before the missionaries stopped to talk to him.
“When I look back on those years, I realize that everything fitted into place,” says Brother Juntratip. “Not only was I able to read the books the missionaries gave me, but I think I was also prepared spiritually to receive the gospel message.
“I grew up observing the customs of two religions. Like most Thais, I was raised a Buddhist. My parents, being of Chinese descent, would observe Chinese religious customs, such as the new-year festival, the ancestral festival, and the new-moon festival.
“But I had read of Jesus Christ, and as a small boy—a long, long time ago—I had watched movies in which the Lord was depicted, like The Ten Commandments and The Robe. And I believed in God. I told myself that there must be a God, because if there were no God, who created the universe and all the good and beautiful things in it? There had to be an omnipotent Being.”
Brother Juntratip was baptized on 6 December 1976, at the age of twenty-eight.
By then, his parents had died, but he faced opposition from his two younger brothers. “They were university-trained engineers, and their only religion was materialism. They couldn’t understand what I was doing.”
Three years later, they opposed his decision to attend Brigham Young University—Hawaii Campus. “My brothers were sure I’d fail,” recalls Brother Juntratip, “and they didn’t want the embarrassment of having to bring me home.” To try to keep him from going, his brothers took control of a piece of property his mother had left him. He had planned to sell the property to acquire money for college expenses. But his brothers said they would hold the property so that if he failed, they could sell it and use the money to bring him home.
But Brother Juntratip still went ahead with his plans and enrolled at BYU—Hawaii. He wrote to an airline company asking them to let him fly half-fare. They responded by giving him a free ticket.
Pornchai studied English literature at the university, taping the lectures and also listening to taped versions of the study text. He supported himself by transcribing oral history tapes.
He graduated in December 1983 and then entered BYU at Provo, Utah, for graduate work in English literature. “Because I did well while in college in Hawaii, my brothers let me have the money from the property sale to pay my way to Utah,” says Brother Juntratip. “I had to give so much time to my studies that I couldn’t work to support myself, but luckily I was awarded a scholarship. I received my master’s degree in June 1986 and returned to Thailand.”
For seven months after returning to Thailand, Brother Juntratip taught students in his home. Then he was offered a position as translator for the Church.
“I had been praying that I would find employment that would fit my particular circumstances, and the translation job does that. I translate seminary and institute student manuals into Thai.”
At first, Brother Juntratip hired someone to read the English text to him. He would dictate the Thai translation into a tape recorder, and the tapes would then be transcribed. These last two steps were eliminated when he taught himself to use a Thai-language typewriter. Later, he replaced the typewriter with a computer, making revisions and corrections easier. In addition, he now receives a taped version of the original English text.
Brother Juntratip met his wife, Kwanjai, a couple of years after his return from BYU. She had served a mission in Thailand.
The Juntratips were sealed in the Manila Philippines Temple in June 1990 by the temple president, Floyd Hogan, who had been Kwanjai’s mission president. Their son, Pituporn, was born in August 1991. “His name means patriarchal blessing,” explains Brother Juntratip. “We hope he grows up to be a good missionary like his mother.
“I remember that when the missionaries presented the discussions to me, I felt the gospel message they taught me was true, was good,” he says. “By striving to live my life according to the gospel, I have come to know for a certainty that it is true and it is good.”

“ATTACK!”
The shout shocked Jeffrey as he sat reading the Book of Mormon at his bedroom desk. He didn’t move as thundering feet barreled closer.
Suddenly, the door was flung open and two boys wielding plastic swords and wearing eye patches burst in.
“Play with us or surrender, me hearty!” Jeffrey’s youngest brother, Benjamin, yelled.
Jeffrey rolled his eyes and half-smiled. “Reading scriptures around here is hard,” he thought.
Jeffrey had been trying hard to read his scriptures and pray every morning, even though there were plenty of distractions. Reading and praying made him feel like he had a little extra help being ready to make good choices.
After reading, Jeffrey sat down with his brothers to watch a cartoon. When the cartoon ended, another one started. Jeffrey felt like he should do something else, so he turned off the TV and started to play cars with his little brothers.
Dad walked into the room. “OK, guys, time to turn off the …”
“I already turned it off, Dad,” Jeffrey said.
“You did? Why?”
“I just thought it would be better to do something else,” Jeffrey said.
“Good thinking,” Dad said. “Now come on. Mom’s going to take you to school.”
When lunchtime came, Jeffrey sat with his friends. Mrs. Lewis turned on a CD for the students to listen to as they ate.
Jeffrey liked the first couple of songs. When the third song started playing, he recognized it as the same song Mom turned off when it came on the radio a couple of days earlier. Mom said the song’s message wasn’t good. Jeffrey understood, but he still liked the beat of the music.
Now, Mom wasn’t here. Everyone else seemed to like the song—even the teachers. But Jeffrey didn’t feel right as the music played. He walked toward Mrs. Lewis.
“Can you please change the song?” Jeffrey asked.
Mrs. Lewis tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow.
“Why?” she asked.
“This just isn’t a song I feel good listening to,” he answered.
“OK,” she said. She shrugged her shoulders and pushed the “skip” button.
Jeffrey immediately felt better.
After school, Jeffrey asked Mom if he could have some computer time.
“Yes,” Mom said. “But just until Dad gets home.”
Jeffrey sat at the computer as Mom cleaned nearby. He typed the address for a new website a friend had told him about. Benjamin sat next to him. The site had a lot of different games on it. Jeffrey clicked on a game and started to play.
Then he started to feel the way he did when the song came on earlier at school.
Jeffrey started to pay more attention to the game. Some things weren’t so good. The music definitely didn’t make him feel happy.
Jeffrey moved the mouse to the top of the page and clicked the red “X” to close it. He noticed he started to feel better again.
When Jeffrey knelt to pray that evening, he knew he had made good choices. The Holy Ghost guided his thoughts and feelings. Heavenly Father was helping him.
Jeffrey closed his eyes, knowing that the next day would bring many of the same situations, but also knowing that as long as he continued to read his scriptures and pray for help, he could be ready to make good choices.
Of course, he still wasn’t sure what he was going to do about those pirates.

As a young girl, I developed a strong imagination and sense of humor. Listening to music was one of my favorite pastimes. I often pulled out our old record player and listened to the music from popular plays and movies such as Carousel, Oklahoma, and the Music Man. I had never actually seen them, so I created my own plots and story lines based on the words from the songs. I also made up all the dances and acted out many of the roles. It didn’t take much to make me happy. A few dress-up clothes from my parents’ closet, a record, an empty room, and I was off on an adventure.
In my mind, I traveled to many faraway places and experienced many marvelous things. In fact, later in my life, when I was able to travel, I discovered that the places I visited in my imagination were almost more fun and exciting than trips I actually took.

When Nora woke up to the clip-clop of horses’ hooves on the rocky road, her ear was aching. At first she tried to keep her mind off the pain by watching for falling stars. But the ache worsened, and Nora twisted and turned under the heavy quilts, forgetting the stars.
“Hold still, Nora! You’re kicking me,” muttered her brother, Emery. “Scoot over. You’re taking all the room.” Nora moved closer to her side of the wagon. It had been fun to spend a week with her cousins in Panguitch. But tonight, with her ear throbbing, Nora wished that she were home in Enterprise.
Trying to protect her ear from the cold air, Nora pulled the covers over her head. Try as she might, though, she couldn’t hold still.
“Your knee’s in my back, Nora,” Emery said, yanking at the covers. “What’s the matter?”
“I have an earache,” said Nora, holding her hand over her ear. “It’s been hurting for a long time. How soon will we be home?”
“Not for hours,” Emery said, sitting up and looking around. “We’re just now to the big stand of cottonwoods. Do you want me to call Papa?”
“No,” said Nora, trying not to cry. “If we stop, it’ll just take longer to get home. If only the wagon didn’t jolt so!”
Emery lay back down. Nora’s whole body stiffened in an effort to be still. The horses plodded on. The wagon jostled and bumped along. With every joggle, the pain got worse. It seemed to Nora that they had been traveling forever. Not wanting to wake Emery again, she gritted her teeth until finally the tears came.
Burying her head deeper under the covers to muffle the sound, Nora clenched her fists, and tried to cry quietly. She managed for a time. Then the wagon started up a rough hill. The wagon bobbled and shook until Nora thought her head would explode. She could no longer control the sobs.
Alarmed, Emery sat up. “Papa! Mama! You’d better see about Nora. She’s in a bad way.”
Papa stopped the horses. He climbed down from the wagon seat. With Mama following, he came around to where Nora was huddled against the side of the wagon.
“Land sakes!” Mama said. “She’s burning up with fever.”
Papa lifted Nora from the wagon. “There, little girl,” he said holding her head against his shoulder. “What’s the trouble?”
“Oh, Papa,” cried Nora, “I’ve had an earache for the longest time! The jolting wagon hurts it so.”
“There, now.” Papa patted her heaving shoulders. “You’ll be all right. We’ll give you a blessing and ask Heavenly Father to make you well. Mama, you hold her while I get the consecrated oil.”
Mama took Nora and sat on a big boulder surrounded by chaparral and sagebrush barely visible in the dim moonlight. Papa found the oil and put a drop on Nora’s head.
Nora was sobbing so hard that she didn’t hear the words of the blessing until Papa got to “in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”
Papa lifted her from Mama’s lap. She rested her head against his chest. He put his big, gentle hand over her ear and rubbed it ever so tenderly. Nora felt the pain go out of her head and ear.
“There, child, You’ll be all right,” Papa said.
Nora relaxed, exhausted from pain. Her tired eyes closed. Papa put her back into her warm place in the wagon. Mama rearranged the heavy quilts around her. It felt so good to have the hurt all gone.
The wagon seat squeaked as Mama and Papa settled onto it. Nora felt the wagon lurch, and heard the clop of hooves scattering loose rocks. Her mind felt fuzzy with sleepiness. The next thing she knew, Papa was lifting her into her own bed.

This typical young couple, only a few hectic years into their eternal marriage—only two children away from the eternal vows they had made in the holy temple of God—were each going a separate way. Their ideas of life were different as to spiritual matters (as well as many others)—one wishing to move along almost to what the other thought was fanaticism and the other moving along in a path that the other spouse thought to be almost apostasy; and both were wrong.
They talked about it and lost their tempers and drew farther and farther away from their common goal. Both were good people basically, but they needed unburned telephone poles and untangled wires of communication that were now sagging. Their inability to communicate in reasonableness led to anger, hard words, misunderstandings.
In time, each found another person and set up different communication lines for sympathy and understanding and comfort; and this disloyalty led to physical adventures that resulted in adulteries and two broken homes and disillusioned spouses and crushed hopes and injured children.
And all this because two basically good people let their communication lines get down and permitted the security poles to drag the ground. This is not one couple, it is tens of thousands of couples who started out in a blaze of glory, sweet felicity, and an interresponsibility and with the highest of hopes.

I would like to share an experience or two with you. When I was growing up, Heber J. Grant was the President of the Church. My father always prayed for President Grant. And he had great personal feeling for him because President Grant at one time was president of the Tooele Stake, and my father at that time was president of the Tooele Stake. President Grant became ill and passed away, and I can remember after the funeral kneeling in family prayer as a young boy and hearing my father praying with the same love and devotion and feeling for the next prophet, the next President of the Church, George Albert Smith.
As a youth, I was surprised because I had never heard anybody pray for any prophet other than Heber J. Grant. And I felt almost cheated—like my father was turning away from a good friend. But as the time went on, through that experience and other experiences, he taught me a very valuable lesson—you see, he had great love and appreciation for President Grant, and that would never change, but in his heart I realized that he had saved his greatest love and his greatest loyalty for his God, and whomever God would send he would sustain and uphold and pray for and embrace.

A few weeks ago, just before 6:00 a.m., my wife and I boarded a taxi to begin the last lap of our trip to Salt Lake City from Australia. Our driver, who had been on duty since 3:00 a.m., was anxious to talk with us, his first passengers of the day. We learned his parents were born just outside of Mexico City. They moved to Chicago, where he was born, and then moved to New Mexico. Twenty years earlier our friend had come for a short visit to San Francisco and had never left. During our trip to the airport, this man related a few incidents from which some great truths were reemphasized.
One other important point was made by this unusual taxi operator. He told us that some of his unmarried friends who are also taxi drivers are often out of money. They come to him to borrow. He indicated that he is generally able to help them over tight money spots. When his companions asked how he is able to support his family on his salary when they can’t even keep themselves, he said, “I tell them I don’t waste money at the races or on liquor or tobacco. My wife fixes our meals at home, and we don’t have to pay for expensive restaurant food.” He smiled when he added, “We do our partying with our family.” This man’s objectives are family-oriented, and he has learned the folly of serving the gambling, drinking, and momentary expensive habits.

Whenever I heard the bell ring for lunch, I dreaded going to my locker. My locker was at the end of the hall, so I had to hurry to catch up with my friends. Every day was the same. I always ran into my tormentors just as I was about to reunite with my friends.
The group of six girls would pass me, swearing at me, calling me names, and openly loathing my existence. Though I pretended not to care, day by day the names and taunts tore at my heart and caused my self-esteem to plummet.
“Why me?” I thought. Out of everyone in the school, why did they single me out? I had never done anything to any of them, yet I was their victim.
Every day I would come home from school, torn apart. My mom would faithfully sit me down and pick up the pieces of my tattered self-esteem. She told me she loved me and that the girls were just jealous. I only nodded, not believing her in the slightest.
Often I would flee to my scriptures. Nothing brought relief as they did. One day I read Matthew 5:44, “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.”
That night as I knelt in prayer, I changed the words I usually spoke. Instead of asking the Lord to help me avoid or conquer my “enemies,” I asked Him to bless them. I asked that they would know they were loved and that they might be as lucky as I was to have the true gospel that could help them.
I continued to pray for them every night. I knew they were so lost, so miserable with life. What would it be like to be in their situation? I prayed and prayed. It seemed nothing was happening.
Just as I was ready to give up all hope, I received a call from my friend’s mother. She asked me to come to a new-member discussion with a girl my age so she could get to know some girls in the ward. I agreed, willing to help and excited at the idea of a new friend.
I got to my friend’s house a little early. I was ecstatic to meet the new girl and welcome her. I’ll never forget my feelings when the new girl walked in and we made eye contact. It was her, the ringleader of my tormentors. We awkwardly shook hands and sat at opposite ends of the room. The lesson went quickly. I cannot remember anything that was said.
As I sat in my room that night, I was so full of emotions I thought I would explode. Confusion, embarrassment, joy, and discomfort all crowded into my being.
At first this girl and I kept our distance at church. I still harbored negative feelings about her, and I didn’t know what to say when we encountered one another. I felt that way until the day she bore her testimony. It was so strong and passionate. I knew I should try harder to be her friend. She had such a love for the gospel, and I wanted that for myself, more than I already had. I began to compliment her and make small talk every time we met.
Though it took another year and a half for us to become friends, I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything. I have such a love for her now. Her testimony and quiet strength amaze me. The change I saw in her leaves me in awe. She is my living witness that our prayers are answered.

While serving as young missionaries in Chile, my companion and I were walking down a street in the city of Los Andes. Across the way, a lady leaned out of her window to shake a blanket and said, “Good morning, elders.” She then disappeared into her house. I was surprised by her greeting. I walked up to the door, knocked, and when the woman answered, I asked, “How did you know us?”

She invited us in and explained that she and her husband had been two of the first people baptized in that community many years earlier. They had loved the Church until they had been offended. They now attended another church. “Now we know the Mormon Church is not true,” she said, retrieving a book titled something like Everything You Want to Know about the Mormons and written, of course, by a non-LDS author.

I glanced at the first few pages. I wasn’t an expert in Church history, but I knew Joseph Smith did not claim to see two angels named Urim and Thummim! “Not all this is true,” I said to the woman. “Look, if you want to know about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, talk to us. We’ll help you.”

That was the beginning. In the weeks that followed, my companion and I watched the members of this family add to their testimony tanks through study. They became active in the Church, but relying only on experiences in the Church was not enough to see this sister and her family through when the going got rough. Now, because they had also studied hard and found answers on their own, they each could say, “I know.”

“This isn’t even music. I play the same stuff over and over again,” Carrie complained. “How come you like music so much?”
“When I was eight I had scarlet fever. I almost died. I couldn’t do anything except lie in bed. I was really scared. Mom would sing hymns while she did the housework. It was her way of letting me know she was there.” She paused long enough to turn the oven on. “Dad bought me a music box. It played ‘Star Dust.’ I played it so much the music box finally broke. I remember not feeling so scared when the music was playing.”
“That’s why you sing so much?”
“And why I want you to play the guitar. Don’t get discouraged. You might be a little slower than your brothers and sisters, but you’ll catch on. The guitar isn’t that easy,” her mother smiled.