Gospel Story Finder

Considering the horrific event that took place in Littleton, Colorado, in April of this year, you may wonder why we are writing about a shooting that took place in an Oregon high school in May of 1998. We had just finished this story and scheduled it for publication when the tragedy took place at Columbine High School. We knew then that this story needs to be told more than ever. This story is not about violence; it’s about the comfort and perspective the gospel offers. Here are thoughts and experiences shared by those who know both the pain and the healing firsthand.The Editors
It’s been just over a year since a tragic shooting occurred at Thurston High School in Springfield, Oregon. Two students were killed and 23 others wounded when a fellow student opened fire in the crowded school cafeteria.
Some 60 seminary students were in school at Thurston on the day of the tragedy—one of whom helped to stop the shooter. Of course, the seminary students wish the tragedy had never happened. But they also say they’ve learned priceless lessons they’ll never forget.
Although they’ve been reluctant to talk with the media about the shooting, the students were eager to share their testimonies with the youth of the Church through the pages of the New Era.
More than anything, the students talk about how they’ve come to know just how much they love—and are loved by—their families. Just after the shooting, students were instructed to go to enclosed rooms of the school until the situation was secured. In that long period of waiting, teens with brothers or sisters at Thurston found themselves consumed with thoughts of their siblings.
“When I thought that the last thing I said to my little brother was, ‘Don’t be late to class today’ instead of ‘I love you’ … You never understand how important someone is to you until you think they are gone,” says Lacy Stockwell, 18. Lacy had spoken to her freshman brother, Taylor, in the cafeteria just seconds before the shooting erupted. As she ran from the cafeteria, she’d been unable to find him.
Like Lacy, Melissa Piepgrass was also terribly concerned for her brother. “We were taken into the gym, and all of a sudden I was really scared about my older brother, because I know he goes into the cafeteria a lot. I was crying and praying for him.”
After what seemed like an eternity, the students were released. All around the school, emotional reunions took place as students found their siblings and their parents who had gathered outside. Melissa found her brother in a park across the street. “I ran over and gave him a big hug.” Her voice trembles as she says, “That’s the first time I ever really felt how much my older brother loves me.”
Of her reaction at finding her brother safe, Lacy says, “It was incredible when I saw him. We yelled each other’s names and ran down the hall to each other and hugged. I can’t express the emotions I felt.”
Kawika Lawther, 17, describes the reunion that took place between worried parents and their children. “When they let us out into the parking lot, I looked around and saw people hugging their parents. When I saw my dad I ran to him and gave him a big hug. The men in my family don’t really show their emotions, but when he hugged me my dad started to cry. I really felt how much he loves me.”
Adam Buchanan, 15, remembers a similar experience. “I didn’t realize the extent of what had happened until I saw my mom and dad in the parking lot. They were praying for me.
“That really stands out in my mind because it’s one of the very few times I’ve seen my dad cry. It’s meant so much to me that he loved me so much and that they were so worried about me.”
Perhaps Lacy speaks for all the students when she says, “I’m so grateful for an eternal family, because now I realize they are so essential to my life!”
The seminary students say they’ve also felt the love of their Heavenly Father. After 15-year-old Chad Durfee ran from the cafeteria to his classroom, he became even more frightened when he learned that his father, who teaches at Thurston, was in the cafeteria. “I realized then that I wanted to talk to my Heavenly Father. I dropped to my knees in front of everybody and prayed. I was so comforted and I felt the Spirit so much even after what had just happened.
“I probably prayed about 500 times that day. It totally strengthened my testimony of prayer,” says Chad. “Every time I’ve had a problem from that time on, the first thing that comes to my mind is talking to my Heavenly Father. It makes me feel so good to know He lives and loves us and wants us to be happy.”
Like Chad, many students talk about the comforting influence of the Spirit in their lives. Fourteen-year-old Kirk Blair was at his junior high school when he heard about the shooting at Thurston, where his sister, Katie, is a student. “We were worried for her, but I knew through the Spirit that she was okay.”
The Holy Ghost helped Tiffany Austin, 16, regain her sense of security. Several days after the shooting, “I was sitting in the pew at youth conference and felt the Spirit come over me. Then I knew that Heavenly Father wasn’t going to leave me alone no matter what happened. I finally got my security back.”
The example of the Savior and the power of His Atonement have helped students forgive and become whole again after such a trying experience.
“I was so mad that someone could do something like this, and I couldn’t make it go away,” says Alisha Stott, 16. “Forgiving is really hard, but I’m working on it. Being around others going through the same process and watching them forgive makes me feel that I can also. And remembering that Jesus Christ forgives our sins. He forgave people who wronged him, so I should be able to forgive also.”
“No matter what we go through, Jesus Christ knows how to heal us,” says Corwin Lewis, 17. “He can do that because of the Atonement.”
Many students gained stronger testimonies of the power of the priesthood. “The day they let us go back to school, I was afraid to go, so my uncle gave me a blessing,” says Jena Johnson, 16. “It gave me a sense of peace that I knew we were going to get through this. Then I had the confidence to face my fear.”
Adam tells how he felt as he watched his father administer a priesthood blessing. “My dad and I are the Rogerses’ home teachers, so Brother Rogers asked my dad to help him give his daughters a blessing.
“The Spirit was so strong. It was a really humbling experience. I was thinking, I’m going to be 19 in a few years. Will I be ready for the Melchizedek Priesthood? It’s such an awesome responsibility, but I think having it would be the best thing in the world.”
The seminary students also talk about their deepened appreciation for each other, for their ward families, for the scriptures, and for the gospel.
Fortunately, most of us will never experience the kind of tragedy the youth in Springfield have. But from their experience we can learn what matters most in life, and know that a loving Father in Heaven can bless us no matter what the trial.
“I had always taken things for granted before,” says Chad. “I went to church but didn’t really think about it. But now I’ve started to get very spiritual. I love the Church, every aspect about it. Sometimes at night I look up at the stars and think how wonderful it is to know our Father in Heaven lives.”
Melissa remembers, “On the night of the tragedy, I saw the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen. I just knew that Heavenly Father was showing his love for us, telling us that everything would be okay.”
After the tragedy in Littleton, Colorado, the Springfield seminary students wanted to do something to help. They wrote letters to the seminary students in Littleton, sharing their testimonies and messages of hope and encouragement.
The Springfield youth weren’t the only seminary students to give their support to Littleton. Letters, e-mail messages, and posters have poured in to the Columbine High School seminary from seminaries and Church members all over the world.
“It’s helped the kids to see that there are people all over the world who care about them,” says Rob Hildebrandt, seminary teacher at Columbine. “It has really hit them that in this Church we are truly a worldwide family.
“With every new poster, the first thing the kids want to know is where it’s from. When I tell them, they say ‘Wow! They know about us there?’ They’re overwhelmed at the people who love them whom they don’t even know.”
Brother Hildebrandt says the students have also felt the many prayers of support that have been offered for them.

Several years ago, we had a recent convert from Italy visit us on his way to the MTC. He had been a boxer before joining the Church. This brother told us that as he began taking the missionary discussions, the Spirit of the Lord softened his heart. As he studied, pondered, and prayed, his faith grew. His desire to hit another man diminished. A spirit of love came into his heart that he had never known before, and he lost his desire to fight anyone again. He left boxing after he was baptized a member of the Church so that he could always retain the spirit of Christian love. His heart was prepared to accept a call to serve as a full-time representative of Christ.

“OK, class,” the teacher said. “We’re done with maths.* It’s craft time!”
Ismay smiled as the whole class started chatting. Ismay loved craft time. This was the only chance she had to talk with her friends during class.
“Can you believe Christmas is next month?” Mason asked.
Ismay nodded. “I can’t wait!” Ismay thought about her favorite treat. She could almost taste the pavlova, buried in whipped cream and topped with blueberries and kiwifruit. Mmmmmm …
“What’s your favorite Christmas tradition?” Ava asked.
“Oh, that’s easy,” Mason said. “Barbecue at the beach! Mum and Dad spend weeks getting ready for it. It’s the best food in the world!”
Ismay grinned. She loved doing that too. But it wasn’t her favorite. “Ours is going to see the pohutukawa trees,” Ismay said. “We have a picnic under them.”
Pohutukawa trees bloomed at Christmastime. That’s why people called them New Zealand Christmas trees. Their pretty red blossoms made Ismay think that even the trees were celebrating Jesus!
“Well, my favorite is what we do on Christmas Eve,” Ava said. “We go to a church service and talk about when Jesus was born. Then we each get to open one present.”
Everyone around her got excited about opening presents. They started talking about what they wanted for Christmas.
Just then, Charlotte dropped her scissors and crossed her arms. She looked grumpy all of a sudden. “Jesus isn’t even real! Besides, Christmas is just about giving presents that nobody needs.”
Then Charlotte picked her scissors back up and started cutting quickly. Everyone was quiet for a moment.
“Actually,” Mason finally said, “I really do need a new scooter.”
Ismay’s other friends laughed. They kept talking about what else they wanted for Christmas.
But Ismay didn’t laugh. She felt sad because of what Charlotte said about Jesus. She wanted to say something. But would that only make Charlotte more mad?
Ismay kept working on her craft for another minute.
Then she turned to Charlotte. “You know what you said about Christmas? Well, I don’t feel that way,” she said quietly. “To me, Christmas is about being with family and friends and showing love to people.” She took a deep breath. “And it’s about Jesus. He is real.”
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Prove it!”
Ismay blinked. Prove it? How? “I … I can’t,” she said. Then she put her hand over her heart. “But I feel it in here. I believe He’s real and that He loves me. He loves you too.”
She felt so good inside when she said that! A warm, happy feeling washed over her. For just a second, she thought she saw Charlotte’s face get brighter. But then her grumpy frown came back.
“Whatever,” Charlotte said. But her voice didn’t sound quite so angry anymore.
Later that night, when Ismay told her family what happened, Mum said, “I’m proud of you. I think you planted an important seed today. Who knows what that will grow into someday?”
A seed! Ismay thought again about the beautiful pohutukawa trees they would soon visit. Those trees started out as seeds too. Then, over time, they grew tall and beautiful.
“Thanks, Mum!” Ismay felt glad she could plant a seed about Jesus. That was the best Christmas gift she could give anyone.

Later, while at Santa Maria University in Valparaiso, Jorge met Carmen Gloria Valenzuela. “When I saw her for the first time, I knew I was going to marry her,” he recalls. “It was very strange, because I already had my mission call, and she was not a member.” Within a few weeks she was taking the missionary discussions, and he baptized her before leaving to serve in the Chile Concepción Mission.
Jorge and Carmen corresponded during his mission, began a courtship afterward, and were married on June 26, 1982, in the São Paulo Brazil Temple. They are the parents of five children.

Jennilee Adams from Ogden, Utah, appreciates the common bond with those in institute. When she came to college, she felt nervous and alone because she didn’t know any other students. “Will I find friends?” she wondered. “Will I be okay living so far away from home?”

It didn’t take her long to get over those worries, however, because Jennilee went to the institute building the first week of school to sign up for classes and to attend opening activities. At institute she quickly found friends.

Today, one year later, Jennilee is a different person than she was when she first came to CEU. Thanks to institute, she is confident in herself and her testimony of the gospel. In fact, Jennilee is the president of an organization associated with institute that functions as an activity and service club for LDS women. The LDS men have a similar organization. These associations give institute students a chance to meet for fun, weekly activities on campus.

“It’s just a chance to get to know a bunch of girls that have your same beliefs, who are experiencing the same things, and are making the same choices,” explains Jennilee. She says that she will always keep in touch with the wonderful friends she has met through institute. Needless to say, Jennilee does not feel alone anymore.

The aspiring college professor had been struggling through years of graduate school, hoping to obtain a doctorate from one of the nation’s leading universities. Preparations had been carefully made for his final oral examinations. He and his wife had fasted and prayed intently for several days, invoking the Spirit of the Lord to attend him in his pending exam and time of proving.

The night before his oral defense, this young man tossed and turned and could not sleep. Then, as he gradually began to relax, he saw in his mind’s eye the questions that would be asked the next morning. He began to mentally prepare the answers for each question as it arose in his mind.

The next morning he arrived at the examination at the appointed hour. To his pleasant surprise, the first question asked by his doctoral examination committee was the first question he had encountered in his thoughts the previous evening. Then, as the examination unfolded, question after question was raised in the same order in which it had occurred the night before. Needless to say, he passed the exams with an impressive performance. He has dedicated his life and profession to serving the Lord.

There was a man by the name of Syd who lived in a little Maori village on the east coast of New Zealand. At that time there was a large branch of the Church there with about 400 members. One Saturday afternoon President Cowley arrived at this village and went to see his old friend Syd.
As a young man, Syd had been an outstanding athlete. He had attended high school and college in the United States. He had become a well-known basketball player, and, as an all-star athlete, he had received a lot of publicity.
Syd had been ordained a seventy while he had lived in the United States, and when he returned to New Zealand, he had found that he was the only seventy in the whole area, and he didn’t have a quorum to belong to. He had become somewhat inactive, and he hadn’t been keeping the Word of Wisdom, but deep within his heart he still knew the gospel to be true.
President Cowley found Syd sitting in a rocking chair on his front porch, smoking a cigar.
After they had talked and laughed for a while, President Cowley became serious and said, “Syd, I want you to come to church tomorrow.”
They both looked toward the old chapel that was there, and Syd said, “I think it’ll fall in if I do. I haven’t been there for a long time. I don’t think I’d better risk it.”
President Cowley said, “Syd, I want you to be there. I’m going to do something important tomorrow.”
Syd inquired, “What are you going to do?”
President Cowley answered, “I’m going to release the branch president and put in a new one.”
Syd said, “Why don’t you just tell me who the new branch president will be, and then I won’t have to get myself cleaned up for church in the morning.”
President Cowley said, “Well, I’ll tell you who it is. It’s going to be you.”
Syd pulled that old cigar out of his mouth, looked at it, and said, “President, you mean me and my cigar?”
President Cowley said, “No, Syd—just you. We don’t need your cigar.”
Then Syd threw the cigar out on the ground in front of the porch. He thought for a minute, turned to President Cowley, and very humbly said, “I don’t break the Word of Wisdom anymore. I’m a full-tithe payer. I’ll be the branch president, and I’ll be worthy. Tomorrow morning I’ll be there, and I promise you that I’ll be the best branch president in the whole country. You won’t have to worry about me and whether or not I’m living the gospel.”
For the next several years, Syd served as one of the strongest and finest leaders in the mission. His son became the first bishop in the ward when the stake was created. His grandson also served as a bishop. Syd’s whole family is strong and active in the Church today and one of the great families in New Zealand. Why? Because old Syd knew how to repent. He repented on the spot. He remained a faithful Saint until the day he died.

The Price of Mortality
Mormon doctrine also provides a unique ?perspective on the purpose of mortality, human suffering, and what is sometimes called “the problem of evil” by theologians: How is it that an all-powerful and all-loving God can permit so much evil and suffering in the world?

Let me share a story with you about the ?powerful and attractive answer that Latter-day Saint doctrine provides to this question.

My wife, Deirdre, and I were a two-tuition family at Yale, which is to say that it was not inexpensive. She completed her MBA on the same day I finished my law degree. In fact, we missed each other’s college convocations because they were held at the same time. Then we moved to Washington, DC, where Deirdre was working for Paul Mellon and his private art collection and I was clerking for a judge on the DC Circuit Court of Appeals.

My calling in our ward was Cub Scout leader, and there were two young brothers in my Webelos group. That summer their family was in a terrible car accident. One of the brothers was in critical condition for weeks, and I visited him in the hospital, where he was wrapped nearly head to toe in bandages. This was the early 1990s, when AIDS was not well understood, and this young boy contracted the HIV virus from a blood transfusion. It took many months, but he eventually recovered from most of his injuries, yet at that time being infected with the HIV virus was akin to a death sentence.

He was asked to speak in Church about what he had learned from his experience. Although he was only twelve, he gave what I think is the most profound and insightful address on the problem of evil that I have ever heard. He said:

Some people have asked me what I did wrong to deserve what happened to me. I’m not perfect, but I’m a good boy, and I know this is not something I deserved.

Others have said, “You must be a really strong person for God to give you such a difficult trial.”

I don’t feel strong, and anyway, I don’t believe God did this as a reward for my being particularly righteous.

No, I don’t think this happened because I’m particularly bad or particularly good. I believe it happened because I’m mortal, and this is part of the price of mortality. We come to earth, we exercise our agency, and other people exercise theirs, and sometimes we hurt each other, and sometimes accidents happen.

Think about that—“the price of mortality.”

When Heather decided she wanted to go out for baseball, she didn’t think twice about the fact that there are no girls’ teams in her area. Today the petite 15-year-old with long dark hair and bangs is the only girl playing on boys’ teams in her league, and she’s doing pretty well.
The Drummonds are not the most outspoken kids in the world. They’re doers rather than talkers. But they will open up if you ask. Heather, for example, will tell you that she doesn’t feel short-changed by not growing up with a mother. “I’ve lived with guys all my life, so I do the things they do,” she says. “But I also do girl things. My best friends are girls. I don’t think growing up only with guys has hurt me.” Heather has her own ways of asserting her femininity. In the dugout, for example, even though she tucks her long brown hair up under her cap and wears a bulky uniform like the rest of the players, you can’t miss her because she’s the one wearing pink lipstick. And sometimes, when the other players lose their tempers and start swearing, they’re quickly reminded that a girl is present when Heather tells them, “Hey—watch your language!” And, she says, “They usually apologize.”
“Some of the guys I play with are kind of mean,” says Heather. “They say the only reason I’m on the team is because the coach doesn’t know how to cut a girl. I have to play extra hard to overcome that. I’ve been tempted to quit, but when I am, I just tell myself I have to stick in there, because everyone would think I can’t handle it. I can handle it,” she says with conviction, and you don’t doubt her.

When I played tennis in high school, I often heard the other players swear. I tried to not let their words affect me. But during one of my matches, I missed the ball, and a crude word slipped out of my mouth. Without me even realizing it, I had slowly become numb to the words they were saying until it felt natural for the “natural man” (Mosiah 3:19) in me to use them as well.
I’ll be honest—that tennis match wasn’t the last time I ever said a bad word. But when I realized how exposure to that environment was affecting me, I made the deliberate choice to change the people I surrounded myself with. We can make the same intentional choices with the media we consume.

While on a mission tour late last year, on a Wednesday evening, I met the faithful parents of a newer missionary serving in that mission. On Friday, I met the fine young missionary. He was born in the covenant and raised in the Church by those goodly parents. Early on Saturday morning, the mission president informed me that the father had died, and the mother was critically injured in a car accident the night before.
With the approval of the Area Presidency, the mission president arranged for this young elder and his companion to attend the funeral of his father. As travel arrangements were being made and while still dealing with the tragic news, the young elder said, “I want to be a missionary; can I come back?” His question and subsequent actions reflected his desire and determination to press forward in faith and continue his service. For him, with faith in the Resurrection and the sealing ordinances of the temple, his father’s death was not the end, though it was such a hard thing for any young person to bear. He knew that his father was alright and that, regardless of what happened with his mother, their family could be together again. Following the funeral, he promptly returned to his missionary work and is serving with the faith and hope found in message of the restored gospel that he teaches every day.

In the spring of 1866, during what is called the Black Hawk War, our pioneers were struggling to beat back deadly Indian attacks on many settlements in southern Utah. Two of President Heber C. Kimball’s sons were called into military service for a three-month expedition against the Indians. Before they left he gave them a priesthood blessing. Apparently concerned that his sons might shed the blood of their Lamanite brothers, he first counseled them about the great promises God has made to this branch of the house of Israel. He then blessed his sons and promised them they would not see a single Indian on their campaign. His sons, full of fight and eager to smell gunpowder, were disappointed at this promise, but the blessing was fulfilled. When they returned three months later, they reported:
“We … rode hundreds of miles, following the tracks of different bands of hostile Indians, and were close upon them a great many times. They were attacking settlements all around us, killing the settlers and driving off stock.” But the company did not see a single Indian (Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, an Apostle, 2d ed., Salt Lake City: Stevens and Wallis, 1945, p. 429).

A sister who was unable to attend church because of some difficult health challenges came to know how sweetly personal God’s covenants are. Because of these unusual circumstances, Aaronic Priesthood holders, at the direction of the bishop, came to her home to administer the sacrament. She knew they would be coming, but she did not anticipate the outpouring of God’s love she would feel as they knelt and blessed the bread and water—just for her. “I’ll never forget when they held the sacrament tray with one piece of bread and then one small cup of water on it. As I took the sacred emblems, I felt such a personal connection with my Savior. I knew that His Atonement really was for me. I felt of His mercy and His love. In every way, I was renewed and strengthened to meet the challenges that were uniquely mine.”

I first met Kim Hye Gook in November 1989 while serving as a missionary in Suwon, South Korea, about thirty kilometers south of Seoul. She was referred to the sister missionaries by Brice Womack, an American soldier stationed in Songtan, some distance away. The missionaries in my zone visited the orphanage where Miss Kim worked. We were impressed with the patience, love, and care she gave each of the children.
At about the same time, we met Pak Hyang Gook while talking with people on the streets in Suwon. A short time later we began teaching her the missionary discussions.
Both of these investigators completed the discussions, developed strong testimonies, and decided to be baptized. The date was set for Sunday, 24 January 1990. We made all of the usual preparations for baptism and met with the meetinghouse custodian and bishop to make sure the details were all settled. Everything seemed to be in order.
The day finally came, and it was very cold, as Korean winter days tend to be. After Sunday School opening exercises, I thought to ask the custodian if hot water would be available from the taps. That’s when he told us the furnace had broken and we wouldn’t be able to perform the baptism.
We were shocked. Some of Miss Kim’s friends had come all the way from Songtan to attend the service. Also, three investigators from the Osan Branch (fifteen kilometers away) were to be baptized at the same service. The whole Osan Branch was planning to attend.
Sister Gu Jean Jaw (a sister missionary) and I tried to remedy the situation. We took apart the furnace and found a fuse that was burned out. We replaced it with an automotive fuse that seemed compatible, then put it all back together.
At first we were elated to find that it worked. But our excitement was to be short-lived. It soon became apparent that no water would flow from the furnace up to the baptismal font. The reason: the water in the pipes had frozen solid. We tried for three hours to thaw the pipes by pouring boiling water over them. It didn’t work. We also tried to find a welder, hoping to heat the pipes and thaw the ice inside. But no one who had a welder was willing to let us use it.
By now it was 2:00 P.M., time for the baptism to begin. The Osan branch president and members had arrived. Sister Gu Jean Jaw called every mogyoktang (bath house) in Suwon to see if we could perform the baptisms there, but none of them would accommodate us.
I talked to Miss Kim. She was disappointed. She said that she had prayed and knew that she was to be baptized. She had set a goal with the sister missionaries to be baptized on this day. She pulled out the Book of Mormon that the sisters had given her when she started the discussions and opened it to the picture of Alma baptizing a girl in the Waters of Mormon. She asked, "Is it possible for me to be baptized in a river or lake?" Voices blurted out that it was impossible, that everything outside was frozen over, that it was too cold.
The bishop called us into his office to decide what should be done. We agreed that the girls themselves should decide when and where they would be baptized. The bishop called them into his office. He said he knew where a lake was, but warned that it would take a long bus ride, followed by a twenty-minute walk, to get to a secluded cove where the baptism could take place.
The room was quiet for a long time. Then Miss Kim spoke. She repeated that she had accepted the gospel and had agreed to be baptized on this day. She believed that if she did her part, the Lord would do his. And if doing her part meant being baptized in an icy lake, then she was willing.
We began preparations for the lake baptism. Elders Forbes and Miner ran home to get blankets. The two investigators changed into baptismal clothes; my companion, Elder Parker, and I did the same. We held the baptismal service at the Church meetinghouse, then climbed on a bus for the ride to the lake. When we arrived, we saw a large group of people ice skating. We knew the ice had to be very thick.
The bishop had gone on ahead in his truck and was already on the other side of the lake. When we reached him, he was futilely trying to break a hole in the ice with a large rock. My companion and I hiked to a little house on the edge of the lake and knocked on the door. A middle-aged man appeared at the door, dressed in a purple hanbok, the traditional Korean dress. I explained in Korean that we needed to cut a hole in the ice. He hurried into the house and returned with an old axe head fastened onto a homemade stick handle. He didn’t even ask us to return it, just smiled and closed the door.
We returned to the lake and cut a small hole in the ice, then tested the depth with a stick. It was too shallow for a baptism. We cut many small holes, testing the depth of the water each time. Finally we found a place where the water was the right depth.
It took another hour to cut a trough big enough in which to perform the baptism. The homemade handle on the axe broke once, but we caught the head before it sunk. The ice was 30cm. Thick. Most of the chunks we cut off were just too big to lift out, so we slid them under the ice on either side of the merging hole.
Finally, Elder Parker baptized Sister Pak, and I baptized Sister Kim in that frozen lake. By now it was late. The ice skaters had all gone home. The sky was clear and the air bitter cold. Yet I remember thinking, as I slid out of the hole back onto the ice, that, amazingly, I didn’t feel cold. Sister Kim had the same experience.
We huddled together to have a closing prayer, after which we bundled in blankets and headed toward the bus stop. The baptized sisters went to the bishop’s house to change clothes, while the other elders and I went home. At 8:30 P.M. we all met at the bishop’s house for dinner. The bishop felt strongly that these two girls should be confirmed right there and then, so we complied.
During and after the confirmation prayers, the room was filled with a sweet feeling of peace. I can’t begin to describe it. I truly believe that for some reason it was important for those girls to be baptized and confirmed that cold, icy day. Their faith and courage typify the attitude of the humble members of the Church in South Korea.

In my sophomore year of high school, after I had been learning and teaching from Preach My Gospel, a friend of mine came up to me during weight-lifting class and said, “Hey, Tanner, you’re Mormon, right?”
A little nervous, I answered, “Yeah, I am.”
“Can you answer a couple questions for me about your Church?” he asked.
I started to panic. What if I didn’t know the answers to his questions, or what if I just sounded stupid? Then I thought about it for a minute: “I’ve done this before. I’ve practiced in the class we have every month, and I can answer these questions. It’s no big deal. Why am I so scared?”
Because of what I had already learned and practiced, I was able to answer some of his questions and point him in the right direction. He got in touch with the missionaries and was later baptized and served a mission.

When I started reading the Fulfilling My Duty to God booklet, I felt that many duties were waiting for me. Although I only recently decided to read, apply, and share what is written in this booklet, it has already influenced my spirituality. Using Duty to God helps me grow and become a little better. Before using this booklet, I had never taught or testified of the gospel to my family. After reading and applying what was written in the booklet, I started finding opportunities to teach and testify to my family.

Amelia liked visiting Grandma. She liked playing with the toy animals, especially with Grandma’s soft stuffed bunny. But today wasn’t for playing. Today was for helping.
On the way to Grandma’s house, Amelia’s sisters talked about which jobs they wanted to do.
Sarah wanted to sweep. Emily wanted to mop. And Mom asked Alyssa to clean the windows.
“What about me?” Amelia asked. “Should I help dust?”
“I have a special job for you,” Mom said. “I need you to listen.”
Amelia waited. “OK, I’m listening. What is it?”
“That’s the job!” Mom said with a laugh. “Just listen. Sit with Grandma and listen while she talks. It might be the most important job we do all day.”
How could listening be the most important job? Amelia wondered. It seemed like dusting would be more of a real job! But Amelia was willing to try.
Grandma was glad to see them. Everyone else got started on their jobs. Amelia went and sat next to Grandma on the couch. Amelia noticed the stuffed bunny in the corner. “I like your rabbit,” she said.
Grandma smiled. “Did I ever tell you about my brother Mel and the baby bunny?”
Amelia was surprised. “A real bunny?”
Grandma nodded. “It was an orphan he found. He snuggled it inside his shirt so it would be safe.” Grandma told Amelia about the rabbit pen Mel built.
That story reminded Grandma of other stories. She told about a pet calf she named Star. She used to ride on Star’s back! Amelia giggled as she pictured Grandma riding a baby cow. It wasn’t easy imagining Grandma as a little girl.
Grandma talked and talked. She told the rabbit story again. Another time, she even stopped in the middle of a story and started over.
Amelia tried to keep listening, but she was getting tired. Mom and the other girls were still working. It was hard to sit and listen! But Grandma smiled. She seemed happy to be sharing her stories.
A few minutes later, Mom came in. “All done! We’re ready go.”
“That was so nice,” Grandma told Amelia. “I love visiting with you!”
Amelia gave her grandma a big hug. She saw tears in Grandma’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Amelia asked.
“Nothing’s wrong,” Grandma said. “Thank you for talking with me. I love you.”
Amelia felt warm all the way inside. “I love you too,” she said. “I’ll come again soon.”
On the way home, Alyssa asked, “How was listening, Amelia?”
“It was harder than I thought. I think I was done listening before Grandma was done talking!”
“You were terrific!” Mom said.
“Thanks,” Amelia said. “Some of the stories she told were fun. Did you know Grandma had a pet calf?”
“Really?” Sarah asked.
“Yeah! Grandma used to ride it,” Amelia said, nodding. “Its name was Star.”
Amelia told them all of Grandma’s other stories. It was pretty cool to learn so much about her.
Emily grinned. “Maybe you could trade me jobs next time. I want a chance to listen!”

I remember when I was about 16 years old overhearing Mom talking to Dad. She was concerned about some choices I was making. I was not guilty of any sin more serious than the immaturity of youth, but Mom was worried. What Dad said seared into my heart. “Don’t worry,” he said to Mom. “I trust Sharon, and I know she’ll do the right thing.” Those hours in the hayfield paid off then and there. From that moment on I was bound to those loving, trusting parents.

One day my friend Todd and I decided to go shooting. But pretty soon we got totally bored. It wasn’t even lunchtime and we were ready to go home.
As we put our gear in the car, I noticed something odd. “Hey, Todd,” I said. “What do you think that big dark spot on the hill is? Looks like a cave, doesn’t it?”
We decided to take a look. We didn’t have any lights with us, so we thought we would only explore as far in as we could go and still see the light from the entrance.
We walked a few yards into the cave and turned back to check the light. No problem. We walked in several more yards. Sure enough, the light was still there, but now it looked only about a foot high. We stopped and thought maybe we shouldn’t go in any farther. Well, just a few steps more.
Suddenly everything went black. I don’t mean dark. I mean black. We turned a full circle. There was no light.
We put our hands against the wall and began walking in the direction we had come—or so we thought. After following that wall a longer time than it took to walk in, we still couldn’t see an inch of light.
We turned the other way, again feeling along the wall, but again we saw no light.
We kept turning one direction and another, but we found no light. We started stumbling over rocks on the floor of the cave. There hadn’t been rocks like this where we came in.
“I’m scared,” Todd confessed.
“I’m scared, too,” I answered.
“No one is going to come looking for us,” Todd said. “We told them we wouldn’t be back until late.” Todd was quiet for a minute and then he added, “Maybe we’re going to die.”
“Maybe.”
I didn’t think it was maybe. I thought for sure we were going to die. Even when we didn’t show up later that night, our folks wouldn’t know where to come looking for us. It would be days before they found us.
We walked on for a long time. Finally we both collapsed down onto the ground. I fought back tears. I didn’t want to die like this.
“Frank,” Todd said quietly, “I don’t know what to do now.”
“I do,” I replied. “What we should have done hours ago. We’re going to pray, and we’re going to pray very hard.”
We knelt down and poured out our hearts, pleading with Heavenly Father to show us the way out. We prayed longer than I’d ever prayed in my life. It was the most sincere and humble prayer I’d ever uttered. We were completely dependent on Father in Heaven’s mercy.
When we finished our prayers we stood there for a few moments then turned in the direction we felt impressed to try. Within a few yards we saw a tiny glimmer of light. With just that tiny glimmer we knew which way to go.
When we reached the entrance of the cave, we knelt down again and thanked Heavenly Father for answering our prayers. Then we looked at our watches. We had wandered around in that cave for eight hours! We got home and told our story, and the whole family thanked Heavenly Father.
The next day, Todd and I thought it would be interesting to take our big flashlights and go back to look at the cave.
We climbed up to the entrance and turned on the flashlights. We walked a few yards into the cave and froze with a chill of terror. It wasn’t a cave. It was an abandoned mine filled with endless horizontal passageways and several vertical shafts falling into seemingly bottomless abysses. One wrong step and Todd and I would have hurtled down one of those shafts.
When I think about this experience, I think about light and darkness. I think about how captivating it is to explore just a little into the darkness. Just a step at a time, always knowing you can turn around and, seeing the light—even if only a little light—you are sure you can find the way out again. But I learned that you can take just one step too far into the darkness, and the light is gone. So, I decided right then: the best course of action is to stay out of the darkness entirely.

President Gordon B. Hinckley visited members in seven cities and dedicated a temple in Aba, Nigeria, as he traveled around the world in July and August, adding several thousand miles to his extensive travel as Church President.
President Hinckley’s meetings with members ranged from small groups gathered on airport runways to thousands of Latter-day Saints participating in cultural celebrations.
Vladivostok, Russia
While making a brief stopover for plane refueling in Russia, President Hinckley greeted 200 members at an airport in Vladivostok. President Hinckley’s visit to the city was the first by a President of the Church.
“Live the gospel and establish the work in this great place,” President Hinckley said to the group.
President Hinckley told the members that they reminded him of a small congregation of Saints he met in Korea 50 years ago. He said that group of Saints now numbers in the thousands and told the Russian Saints he believes that in the future, thousands of Saints will live in their town. President Hinckley said if they will be true and faithful the Lord will bless them.
Seoul, South Korea
President Hinckley spoke in Seoul, South Korea, to members gathered for a regional conference. The meeting was broadcast throughout the country and to locations in the United States and Australia.
President Hinckley recalled previous stopovers in Korea. He apologized for missing a cultural celebration involving 1,500 adult and youth performers the evening prior to the conference due to a travel mishap.
He said: “God has poured out His blessings upon this people, and the security and the peace and the well-being of this nation rests on the righteousness of the nation. I believe with all my heart that if the Saints will live the gospel they will be spared from war and other afflictions.”
Taipei, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, China
While visiting in Taipei, Taiwan, and Hong Kong, China, President Hinckley met with members, and he dedicated Church office buildings in both cities. Both buildings have chapels, classrooms, and Church office space.
In the meeting with members in Hong Kong, he described receiving inspiration about the Hong Kong China Temple being part of a multistory building; it was a pattern, he said, that was used again for the Manhattan New York Temple. President Hinckley also expressed his gratitude for the members. He said: “I just want to tell you how much I love you. You are wonderful people.”
Aba, Nigeria
When President Hinckley arrived in Nigeria on August 6, the day before dedicating the Aba Nigeria Temple, Latter-day Saints in Nigeria welcomed him by lining the street leading to the temple grounds. They also performed “The Day of Rejoicing,” a cultural event to celebrate the arrival of the prophet and the completion of a new temple.
The program involved nearly 1,500 youth and children who had prepared for almost a year practicing music and dance routines. Youth from five stakes in Nigeria participated in the event. The audience, including local Church leaders, parents, and the prophet, sat on chairs or stood on a sloping hill just below the temple for the program.
The day after the cultural celebration President Hinckley dedicated the Aba Nigeria temple. The temple is the third operating temple in Africa and the Church’s 121st operating temple worldwide. (See accompanying article below.)
A Million Miles
During the trip President Hinckley also met with small groups of members during brief stops in Delhi, India, and Nairobi, Kenya. He said he told the members during these visits to continue “keeping the faith, living the gospel, doing what they ought to do, taking care of their families, providing for them, giving them spiritual strength.”
To speak to countless members, President Hinckley has traveled more than one million miles since becoming fifteenth President of the Church in March 1995.
Church News contributed to this report.