Gospel Story Finder

There have been so many people who have come to me and expressed their remorse for having cheated themselves. There was a young man who had postponed marriage for many reasons: to devote himself unhindered to advanced education, to accumulate material goods, and other reasons. After he finally married, he said, “My life is now so beautiful. Why did I waste so many years without these blessings? I have traded dollars for pennies.”

I was born into a family of many children, and I remember being able to have open discussions with my mother. One day, I asked her: “Mommy, why does one of my classmates always obtain the highest grades in class?” She looked at me and kindly replied: “Indeed, you are going to the same school; but he does something differently than you do. In fact, he goes to church every week, but you only attend Church sometimes.”
Since that day, I made a personal commitment to always attend church on Sunday so that I could do better at school. My grades became better because I did go to church regularly, although I did not always fully understand the teachings.
Later, I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, where I was taught the importance of keeping the Sabbath day holy. I soon realized that going to Church was not only a matter of obtaining good grades at school but was also a matter of giving priorities to God in our own lives. It is a matter of keeping the Sabbath Day holy (see Exodus 20:8), a matter of partaking of the sacrament so that we might always remember Jesus Christ and His Atonement, and finally a matter of eternal life, which is the greatest gift of God to those that endure to the end.
Additionally, one of the greatest blessings I see in my life is to learn of Jesus Christ and His everlasting Gospel, and especially to keep His Sabbath Day holy. My understanding of the purpose of the Sabbath Day increased also.

When my son, Joshua, was about two years old, he developed a keen interest in clocks. If we passed a clock in the house, he wanted to stop and look at it. He especially liked to put his ear up close to the clock and listen to the ticking sound it made. He went through a phase where we couldn’t pass by a clock without stopping to listen to it tick.
I realized some interesting things from that simple activity. First, the clock ticked all the time, not just when we paid attention to it. Second, even though we knew the clock made a sound, we had to get close to it and be very quiet and still in order to hear the soft ticking.
Now whenever I hear soft ticking sounds from a clock, I can’t help but remember the simple lesson my son taught me about being still to hear the quiet promptings of the Spirit.

Fifty-one years ago I heard William J. Critchlow Jr., then president of the South Ogden Stake, retell a story concerning trust, honor, and duty.
“[Young] Rupert stood by the side of the road watching an unusual number of people hurry past. At length he recognized a friend. ‘Where are all of you going in such a hurry?’ he asked.
“The friend paused. … ‘The King has lost his royal emerald! … Everyone is searching, for the King has offered a reward … to the one who finds it. Come, we must hurry.’
“ ‘But I cannot go without asking Grandmother,’ faltered Rupert.
“ ‘Then I cannot wait. I want to find the emerald,’ replied his friend.
“Rupert hurried back to the cabin at the edge of the woods to seek his grandmother’s permission. …
“But his grandmother shook her head. ‘What would the sheep do?’ she asked. ‘Already they are restless in the pen, waiting to be taken to the pasture, and please do not forget to take them to water when the sun shines high in the heavens.’
“Sorrowfully, Rupert took the sheep to the pasture, and at noon he led them to the brook in the woods. There he sat on a large stone by the stream. ‘If I could only have had a chance to look for the King’s emerald!’ he thought. Turning his head to gaze down at the sandy bottom of the brook, suddenly he stared into the water. What was it? It could not be! He leaped into the water. … ‘The King’s emerald!’ he shouted.
“With shining eyes Rupert ran to his grandmother’s hut to tell her of his great find. ‘Bless you, my boy,’ she said, ‘but you never would have found it if you had not been doing your duty, herding the sheep.’ And Rupert knew that this was the truth.”

Although the relationship between Erroll and his father today is as close as it ever was, pressure from both sides of the family was to continue right up to the day of the scheduled baptism. “I remember my feelings on that day,” Brother Bennett now says. “We had gone through a lot of pressure, and we knew what we had to do. Yet somehow I felt I needed a final confirmation, a last indication from the Lord that all was well and that we should proceed.
“I remember going up the side of the mountain near my home where I like to jog, and privately pouring out my feelings to my Heavenly Father. I asked for confirmation, perhaps some message that I was about to take the right step. Halfway down the mountain on the way home, I offered the same prayer again.
“As I drew near my home, there was a car parked outside. It belonged to Gabriel Vaianui, a member who had been inactive for about ten years, attending church only intermittently. Gabriel had been at the market and had overheard someone say that Erroll Bennett had decided not to join the Mormon Church after all. He had then driven over to my home immediately to find out for himself.”
Erroll recognized Brother Vaianui as the messenger he had sought and promptly asked him, “Gabriel, should I be baptized today?” Without hesitation, the answer came: “Erroll, whatever you do, you must be baptized. Do not turn your back on the Church.”
Brother Bennett now speaks gratefully of Gabriel Vaianui’s counsel. “It was just what I needed—that little extra to give me the courage I lacked.”
The baptisms went ahead as scheduled, and afterwards Erroll Bennett had time to think. No one called from the soccer club with congratulations or criticism, and by the end of that quiet evening he had made his decision. It was no good agonizing over an elusive compromise, and there was little point in training if he wasn’t going to play on Sundays. The following day he would talk to Napoléon Spitz and withdraw from active soccer, leaving his position open to some other hopeful.

If I may use a personal example:
Some years ago when our first son was about a year old, I was the source of some seemingly unnecessary suffering. We were attending college, and one evening I had been playing with my boy on the floor. I left the room to study, and as I closed the door behind me he apparently reached for me, raising his hand up behind his head, and his finger went into the hinged side of the door. When I closed the door he suffered a rather severe injury to his finger.
We rushed him to the emergency room at the hospital, he was given a local anesthetic, and a doctor came in; he assured us that it could be repaired. Almost paradoxically, at that point the only thing my one-year-old wanted was to be held by his dad. As long as he could see me he resisted any efforts to bind him for the delicate surgery. When I left the room he calmed down, and the doctor was able to proceed.
During the process I was anxious and would draw close to the open door and look around the corner to see how things were proceeding. Perhaps by some unseen sense, as I would peek noiselessly around the corner, which was located behind him and to the side, his head would come up and he would strain to see if I was there.
On one of those occasions, as I saw him with his arm pinned out from his side—his head arched, searching for his father—the thought came to my mind of another Son, His arms stretched out, nailed to a cross, searching for His Father, and to my mind came the words, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” What was a very traumatic moment in my life suddenly became very sacred.
As I have pondered that event with my own son so many years ago, it has provided new insights and perhaps even deeper understanding of the magnitude and magnificence of the Atonement. I have a deeper appreciation of what a Father was willing to allow His Son to go through for me and for each of us. I had a new personal insight into the depth and breadth of the Atonement. I could not imagine that I would willingly have let my son suffer even in this small way; and our Father “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.”
Although we have never discussed it, my son, too, would have the opportunity to appreciate the passage where the Savior explains, “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.”
Although I would not suggest that anything here can approach the holy Atonement, the scar on my son’s hand is continually before him, and he has the opportunity, if he chooses to take it, to use his scar as a reminder of scars in the palms of the Savior—suffered for our sins. He has the opportunity to understand in his own way the love the Savior has for us in willingly being scarred, bruised, broken, and torn for us.

David chuckled at them and rolled over onto his back, remembering how it was when he was only five and his mother was teaching him to swim. He had clung to her, scared but excited, until she finally went under the water and he went under with her, holding his breath for the first time. When they came up, he was laughing so hard that he couldn’t stop.
“What’s so funny?” she’d demanded. “You—your hair was going straight up!” It was the first of many days spent at the pond, giggling and splashing and laughing.

In high school, I had the chance to switch to a new school. I really wanted to switch, but I wasn’t sure if Heavenly Father wanted me to. When I didn’t get a clear confirmation, I started to overthink it. One day, I opened a chocolate candy, and the inside of the wrapper said, “You are exactly where you are supposed to be.” Was this my answer? Was Heavenly Father speaking to me through a chocolate wrapper? I didn’t think so.
When I still didn’t receive a clear answer, I finally made what I thought was the best choice and switched schools. But sometimes I still worried that maybe the chocolate wrapper had been a prompting that I’d ignored. Then one day, as I told my worries to a friend, I felt peace. That peace was my answer—but it only came after I’d made a choice and acted on it.

In March of 1976, my wife, my two children, and I were baptized. We were very happy, feeling that we were starting a whole new life. That summer for our holiday, we rented a log cabin in Jotunheimen, one of the most scenic areas of Norway.
In a little sod-roofed cabin, surrounded by Norway’s highest mountains, my family and I had some wonderful days together. Although we lived almost fourteen kilometers from our nearest neighbor, we never felt lonely. We felt very strongly the spirit of the Lord with us. That summer we had an experience that even today makes me tremble with humility and gratitude for the great love the Lord has for his children.
Early one beautiful, cloudless morning, we started on a long hike. We saw deep ravines and snowy mountain peaks reflected in blue mountain lakes. The hike was a little more difficult than we had anticipated, but we enjoyed the solitude and the magnificent scenery. Three or four kilometers from our destination, we needed to cross a steep, narrow ridge called Besseggen to get to a mountain called Veslefjeldet. I felt we could cross it safely, but a still, quiet voice within me seemed to whisper that we should not go that way. I had been baptized only four months before, and was still unfamiliar with the promptings of the Holy Ghost, so I took no notice of the warning.
As we got closer to the mountain, I again heard the voice warning me, so I stopped and studied the map. If we did not make the short climb over Besseggen and Veslefjeldet, we would have to walk around a mountain and a lake. It would take until midnight to reach our destination. I thought about our tired legs and empty food bag and decided that we should continue the way we were going.
When we reached the foot of the mountain, the small voice clearly repeated, “Hans, you must not go over the mountain.” Again we stopped and looked up toward the narrow mountain ridge. The sun was shining and the air was calm, and I still saw no reason to heed the warning. We began to climb.
I led the way while my wife, Lise, came last, keeping the children safely between us. We experienced little difficulty climbing, yet I still felt that I was doing something wrong. Halfway up, we stopped to admire the view. On our left was a sheer drop of 150 meters, while on our right, the mountainside dropped away abruptly for 500 meters.
Lise and the children were excited about the stillness and the wonderful view, but I continued to feel anxious. Suddenly I felt a gust of wind from the north, and I heard a rushing sound that grew louder. Within minutes we were in the middle of a howling storm. I cried out to my family to lie down and hold on tight. We each clung desperately to the mountain, trying to dig our fingers into the earth, but the gusts of wind were so violent we were slowly being blown toward the edge.
Suddenly I understood what I had done. The missionaries’ words about the Holy Ghost’s quiet whisperings came back to me, and I realized that during the last half hour I had ignored the Holy Ghost three times. I prayed that the Lord would save my wife and children. Full of remorse, I cried for forgiveness.
Then, through the storm’s howling, I heard a deep and powerful voice within me telling me to go back down the mountainside. The voice warned me that he who does not obey the voice of the Lord shall be cast out from His presence.
Suddenly a calm stillness replaced the storm. Amazed, I pushed myself to my knees to give thanks and to acknowledge the Lord’s power. My wife and children shouted for me to hurry so we could climb to the top of the mountain. But now I knew better. We must go down, I commanded, immediately! Without knowing why, my family obeyed. As we reached the foot of the mountain, we again heard a rushing noise, and in a few moments the storm was gusting even stronger than before. I told my family what had happened to me on the mountain ridge. Together we knelt to thank the Lord for preserving our lives.
To this day, more than ten years later, I cannot think about this experience without great emotion. On that summer day, while I clung to a Norwegian mountainside, the Lord taught me and my family the value of listening to the whisperings of the Holy Ghost.

How can we develop a good attitude of cooperation? One wise stake president counseled priesthood and Relief Society leaders to determine their actions by asking, “What would the Savior do?” rather than “What has been done before?” With this idea in mind, ward leaders examined their “policies” in working together. Several ward “traditions” came under examination—the first, when the ward budget was presented for approval to the men in priesthood meeting, but not to the women in Relief Society.
“Would the Savior do that?” priesthood leaders wondered. They decided that he wouldn’t, and then they consulted the General Handbook of Instructions, which indicates that proposed budgets should be discussed with all ward members in a special meeting. That tradition was changed, and the sisters in the ward are much more supportive of ward activities now that they are included in the planning.

Jessica stood on the sidewalk outside Sister Richards’s house, straddling her bike and staring with uncertainty at an open side gate that led to the Richardses’ backyard. Planting a summer garden wasn’t at the top of her list of fun things to do on an already-too-hot Saturday morning. In fact, it wasn’t anywhere on her list!
Besides, she told herself, she had never gardened in her life and had rarely attended Sister Richards’s Valiant 9 Primary class. She barely knew the others in the class, and when she did go to church, one of them—Karlie—never seemed to want to even be seen with her.
She wondered why she had said yes when Sister Richards invited her to help plant the vegetable garden. It was to be a service project, and what was grown would be shared with others in the neighborhood.
“If only it was something other than planting and tending a garden!” Jessica thought as she started to turn her bike around. She liked to help others, “but there will be other chances to—”
Jessica saw Karlie approaching. Karlie’s eyes avoided Jessica’s as she rode through the side gate.
As Jessica again started to turn her bike around, something else stopped her. This time it was her Primary teacher’s voice. “Jessica! I’m so glad you’ve come. We’re just about ready to start planting.”
“If only Sister Richards’s smile wasn’t so kind and genuine,” Jessica thought, “I could tell her I’ve changed my mind about wanting to help.”
“Everyone is here, dear,” her Primary teacher went on. “Tyler, Karlie, Daniel, Joseph, Allie, and Michael. For a couple of them, Jessica, it’s a first—the first time they’ve come to a Primary activity.” She winked as if sharing it in confidence. “I think they’re curious.” As Jessica hesitated, Sister Richards added, “All you need for our project is a caring heart and willing hands, and I happen to know that you have both.”
In the backyard, Jessica saw a nicely cultivated, rich-soiled plot of earth surrounded by children. She found herself recalling other words Sister Richards had said: “The Savior spent his whole life helping others. He even died for us. His message is as simple as the sacred hymn that declares it: ‘As I have loved you, Love one another’ (Children’s Songbook, 136).”
One afternoon a few weeks later, Jessica and Karlie found themselves on their knees side by side, thinning and weeding the tender, sprouting plants. Jessica came across a large weed that stubbornly held its place among young cornstalks. Try as she might, she could not pull it out. Suddenly Karlie grasped it, too. With one united tug, they jerked it out of the ground.
They giggled as they fell backward, their laughter dissolving into quiet, affectionate looks as they suddenly understood why they had avoided each other before. They simply had not known enough about each other to feel comfortable. Jessica flicked a piece of dirt off Karlie’s face, realizing as she did that they might become good friends. She smiled at Karlie.
“Are you going to Primary this Sunday?” Karlie asked.
“Are you?”
Karlie nodded.
Jessica smiled again. “Me, too.”
As the two girls brushed dirt off each other, Tyler stopped and blinked sweat from his eyes, and Michael paused to examine a blister. Sister Richards winked as she paraphrased a Book of Mormon scripture, “God will consecrate our afflictions for our gain (2 Ne. 2:2).”
Tyler grinned as he said, “Some cold lemonade would also help our afflictions. Hint, hint.”
“I’ll show you affliction!” Daniel playfully flung a handful of weeds at Tyler. Tyler tossed a few thinned carrots back at Daniel, but they missed and rained on Michael instead. By the time Sister Richards began to sprinkle them with a hose, everyone else had joined in.
As Jessica laughingly stepped back from the fun-filled fray to catch her breath, she found herself thinking back to that first, uneasy Saturday when she had straddled her bike in front of Sister Richards’s house. “So much has changed since then!” she thought. “Lots of things have grown, not just the vegetables. Our group has grown, too, because we’ve invited our other friends, and some of them aren’t even Church members. …”
“Are you all right, honey?” Sister Richards joined Jessica. “You look so far away.”
Jessica smiled at her Primary teacher. “I’m very all right, Sister Richards. I was just thinking. I didn’t know I could ever feel this good about what we’re doing.”
“You mean about taking time out for a little fun?”
“No—about planting and growing a sharing garden. And all our friends coming, too, and not just here but to Primary! And do you know what? That feeling keeps getting bigger, just like that corn over there.”
Sister Richards pulled Jessica close to her. Jessica looked up and saw that Sister Richards was crying.
Tyler and Lindsey, who was a longtime friend of Jessica’s and who was not a member of the Church, stopped playing upon seeing Sister Richards wipe her eyes. “We’re sorry, Sister Richards,” Tyler apologized. “We’ll stop horsing around and—”
“No, no, Tyler, it’s not that.” Not wanting to break Jessica’s confidence, Sister Richards simply said, “Haven’t you ever gotten anything in your eye before?”
A few short weeks later, as they picked, cleaned, and placed ripe vegetables into baskets for neighbors, Daniel paused to fan his hot face with a towel. Sister Richards told him with a grin, “The seeds of service are watered by the sweat of labor.” Daniel rolled his eyes and then grinned back.
Jessica smiled, thinking, “Yes, Sister Richards really does have a way with words.”
The group placed their produce in two worn red wagons and started down the street. At one stop, they made their way up a little flowered walkway to the door of an elderly widow. The house was small and seemed forlorn. When the door opened, Jessica and the others offered the old woman a small sack with several different vegetables in it. The smile of sweet surprise that rippled across her wrinkled face squeezed tears not only from her eyes but from some of the children’s as well.
As they started back down the walkway, Tyler told Joseph, who had playfully poked him, “What’s the matter, haven’t you ever gotten anything in your eye before—like ‘the sweat of labor’?”
One afternoon after giving away that day’s harvest, the empty wagons rattling behind them, Sister Richards started to sing, “‘By this shall men know Ye are my disciples—’”
The children helped her finish it, “‘If ye have love One to another.’”
Sister Richards asked them, “So how do you feel?”
Michael fanned his face with his hand. “It’s hot, but I still feel good.”
“Doing good makes you feel good,” Allie reasoned aloud, “no matter what else doesn’t.”
“And right now”—Tyler grinned at his Primary teacher—“I believe some of your cold lemonade will make feeling good feel even better!”
Sister Richards grinned back at Tyler as she ruffled his hair. “Such wisdom for one so young!”

The second story which, as I said, may or may not be related to the first, is told by President Spencer W. Kimball, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, in his October 1969 General Conference address:

"When I was a youngster, a stirring challenge came to me that moved me not a little I cannot remember who issued the challenge nor under what circumstances it came. I remember only that it struck me like a 'bolt out of the blue heavens.' The unknown voice postulated:
'The ‘Mormon Church’ has stood its ground for the first two generations—but wait till the third and fourth and succeeding generations come along! The first generation fired with a new religion developed a great enthusiasm for it. Surrounded with bitterness, calumnee of a hostile world, persecuted ‘from pillar to post,’ they were forced to huddle together for survival. There was good reason to expect they would live and die faithful to their espoused cause.
The second generation came along born to enthusiasts, zealots, devotees. They were born to men and women who had developed great faith, were inured to hardships and sacrifices for their faith. They inherited from their parents and soaked up from religious homes the stuff of which the faithful are made. They had full reservoirs of strength and faith upon which to draw.
But wait till the third and fourth generations come along,' said the cynical voice. 'The fire will have gone out—the devotion will have been diluted—the sacrifice will have been nullified—the world will have hovered over them and surrounded them and eroded them—the faith will have been expended and the religious fervor leaked out.'"
Then President Kimball declared.
"That day I realized that I was a member of the third generation. That day I clenched my growing fists. I gritted my teeth and made a firm commitment to myself that here was one 'third generation' who would not fulfill that dire prediction."
Young Spencer Kimball " could not be shaken."

Many years ago a friend and teammate of mine asked me about where I was going to church, what I knew about baptism, and if I knew that there was a prophet of the Lord on the earth today. Of course I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about. But he talked to me for about two hours about his membership in the Church. This was one of our many bus rides in the minor leagues.

After we got off the bus, he said, "How do you feel, Dale, about the things we've talked about?" I said, "It was interesting. I feel good about it." He said, "Well that's good; I've got a couple of guys that I want you to meet with." I thought, "A couple of guys ”what does that mean?" It was a few days later and my friend Barry Bonell brought the missionaries over to my apartment in a small town of Greenwood, South Carolina. I was able to hear the gospel taught, and unfold, and feel the spirit of the restoration”and I knew that my life was going to change from that first discussion.

As I took those discussion back in South Carolina back in 1975, I remember feeling that spirit and knowing that my life was about to change. I'll be forever grateful for someone who asked me if I was interested. To those young missionaries” one from Los Angeles and one from Canada, who were called to South Carolina and taught me the gospel, I knew then and I know now with greater surety and understanding that the gospel has been restored through the Prophet Joseph Smith, that President Monson is our prophet, is the Lord's prophet here upon the earth today, and that the Lord lives, and that the atonement is real and has power and impact to change our lives, and gives us the chance and the opportunity to happy, and hopeful, and faithful in this life.

Primary children from the Kent Washington Stake and Spanish Branch, Washington, USA, had a Friend reading challenge. Together they read 2,920 Friend stories! They put a box full of Friend magazines to read at each Church building in the stake. Each child had a punch card to keep track of how many stories they read or listened to. They even had a stake activity using ideas and recipes from the Friend. They learned to keep reading, sharing, and being a friend to everyone!

After that it seemed that Brad, Chris, and I were always over at Willard’s place. We worked in his garage, sipped soda drinks sitting on his front step, and talked about sports. We even teased him about his smoking. We told him that every time he smoked a cigarette he was throwing away thirty minutes of his life.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I’ve been at it too long to stop it now.” But after that we noticed that when we came, he would throw his cigarette away.
Then one afternoon as we sat in his garage, he seemed more nervous than usual. He kept rubbing his hands on his pants, scratching the back of his neck, pacing the floor, and shuffling his feet.
“What are you thinking about, Willard?” Brad asked.
Willard shook his head. He tried to smile, but his attempt was more like a grimace. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “I threw away my cigarettes. I haven’t had a smoke for a couple of days. But I don’t know if I can keep it up.”
For a moment the three of us were quiet. Then Chris jumped up. “You’ll make it, Willard. You just need something to take your mind off it. Do you chew gum?”
“I could chew nails right now.”
“You need to stay busy too,” I offered. “I have an uncle that quit smoking. He said the only thing that saved him was to stay busy. He worked himself until he was exhausted.”
For the rest of the day we stayed with Willard and helped him forget about smoking. It was almost ten o’clock when we left him, but he’d gotten over the urge to smoke. As far as we knew, he never used another cigarette.

There’ll be no “getting-to-know-you blues” when the students of Skyline Seminary (Salt Lake City, Utah) return to class. An unconventional sort of introduction to their faculty and student leaders last spring has already prepared them for the very best this fall.
A 40-minute slide show prepared by students Mark Woffinden and Mike Malan and three seminary instructors served not only to entertain students with ideas for summer fun and profit, but also introduced them to their current seven-member seminary student council and brought the students messages for the summer from the seminary faculty.
The presentation involved nine slide projectors, four 16-mm movie projectors, and a quadrophonic sound system. Three screens totaling a width of 55 feet showed the projected 10-foot-high images.
The production team took some 700 slides for the show and made their own soundtrack using a combination of student commentary and popular music. As a part of the show’s grand finale, four nature and wildlife films were added to the slides to produce a panoramic effect—an effect that drew a total audience of 2,000 during the one-week screening, exactly twice the anticipated crowd.
Skyline students came away from the show feeling better acquainted with their seminary officers and teachers and enthused at the prospects of a fun summer and a pretty great fall, too.

Now I will return to my story. In the early stages we experienced many uncomfortable times with Taya. This was a hard time for her, as she was trying to process what was happening. She seemed a bit lost and was quite melancholy. She largely just clung to Brooke. And these pictures pretty clearly illustrate how she felt about me in those early days. Thankfully that only lasted a few weeks. [Some photos of Taya were shown.]

Taya’s life had changed about as drastically as a life could—new language, new country, new culture, new family, new food, and so many other things. As days turned into weeks and weeks into months, Taya started adjusting to her new environment. But there were still anxious occasions and sleepless nights for her and for us.

Thankfully, throughout this period we also had ongoing experiences in which we felt the comforting feelings of the Spirit. One tender moment happened as we returned home with Taya. After several days in China and a long trip home, we were worried that she might not react well to seeing our other four kids for the first time. But you can imagine the comfort we felt as we entered the house. This was her reaction as she saw our other kids! [Photos of Taya and the other Hafen children were shown.] There was mutual joy and an immediate bond with her new siblings.

Reflecting back on the first couple of years of Taya’s life with us, there were times when things were not comfortable. But gratefully those times were more than matched by tender mercies that provided comfort that all would be okay. And that has also been the pattern when other family members have experienced both small and occasionally quite large periods of discomfort in their lives.

“¡Bienvenido!”
That’s probably the first thing you’d hear from Omer Machuca if you paid him a visit in his home in Monterrey, Mexico. Then again he might also offer you a courteous, “Wilkommen.” Or he just might grin and say, “Hi, how’s it goin’?”
Changes don’t seem to faze Omer very much. Living much of his life in the Tijuana, Mexico, area, just across the border from San Diego, California, Omer had a lot of exposure to both American and Mexican cultures. He speaks fluent English, and, of course, fluent Spanish. When his family moved from Tijuana to Monterrey, a large metropolitan city almost 2,000 miles away from the costal town he knew and loved, Omer made the best of it and made new friends.
Now Omer, a 16-year-old priest, is tackling the study of German. Someday he’d like to travel far and wide, using the languages he knows and learning new ones. But for Omer one of the most exciting places to travel is a place where he knows everyone can feel welcome whether they speak one language or ten.
For Omer a trip to the temple to perform baptisms for the dead is better than any exotic travel. And although he is a master of adapting to fit into different cultures, there are certain things Omer will never change about himself. He knows that it is how he lives outside the temple that determines what kind of experience he will have when he enters its doors.
When Omer and his parents moved from Tijuana to Monterrey, they left behind family, friends, and a home they knew and loved. It was hard, but it was also exciting for Omer. One thing that wasn’t so exciting, however, was leaving behind a conveniently located temple in San Diego. Now a trip to the temple involves considerable travel.
“I really miss the temple,” says Omer. “Here you usually get only one chance a year to go to the Mexico City Temple. In Tijuana we would cross the border and go to San Diego on the first Saturday every month. The feeling in our family was always a little bit different, a little special on those days. The people in the temple always seemed glad to see us there. I know that it will be the same when the temple is here.”
A temple has been announced in Monterrey, and although construction hasn’t yet begun, Omer and many of the other youth in Monterrey and the surrounding areas are ready and waiting.
“We feel very excited that the temple will be built, and it will be our temple,” says one seminary student. “We will soon be able to go to the temple any time we want.”
When the youth in Monterrey speak about the temple, certain things happen. Their voices get softer, and they seem to become more calm and happy. Even though the nearest temple is several states away and most of them haven’t been there many times, their reverence is evident when the temple is being discussed.
“I think the temple is the most beautiful place on earth,” says 16-year-old Carlos Cadena.
The word cadena means “chain” in Spanish. That has special meaning for Carlos, his parents, and his two brothers and two sisters. They say that attending the temple keeps them linked together, as well as keeping them linked with their past.
Ana, Carlos’s 15-year-old sister, talks about how meaningful her temple baptisms feel when she does them for ancestors she has found at the family history library—ancestors who have likely been waiting a long time for their work to be done. Carlos talks about the happy, peaceful feeling that exists when the family has recently been to the temple. Leon Cadena, a deacon, says that in preparing to go to the temple, he tries extra hard to be good.
The youngest Cadena brother, Moises, spends time in the nursery with his little sister Laura while the rest of the family does temple work. It is this shy, quiet 10-year-old who seems to sum up the whole family’s feelings the best when he says with emotion, “When we go to the temple, our hearts are very full.”
The Alonso family has also made the trip from Monterrey to Mexico City many times, but the most memorable one for them was when the teenagers in the family, Carlos, Emilio, and Rosa, were very small.
“I was four years old the first time we went to the temple,” says Rosa, who is now in the Beehive class. “I remember that when we were sealed we knelt around the altar, all dressed in white. Every time I remember that occasion, I feel warm inside.”
Carlos and his twin brother, Emilio, were nine years old when the family was sealed, and they too have wonderful memories of that time.
“It was very beautiful,” says Carlos. “I remember the mirrors where you can see for eternity.”
Emilio feels very much the same way. “It was beautiful because we were all together in the temple, and that is where we learn to be an eternal family and how to live.”
Although the Machucas, the Cadenas, and the Alonsos are eager for the temple to be built in their city, they all know that there is temple-related work they can do right now, while they are waiting. All the youth agree that trying to live the gospel principles as fully as they can is the best preparation for the temple.
“We are preparing to have more names ready,” says Emilio. “We are reading the scriptures, having family prayer, and fasting regularly.”
But spiritual preparation isn’t the only thing to consider. Soon members will travel from cities far away to attend the new temple here, and they will depend on the help of the members in Monterrey. Carlos says that he and his family are saving money to help others attend the temple that will soon be in their city. And even something as simple as helping with chores at home can help the temple effort.
“If I help around the house and take care of my younger brothers and sister, my parents will feel more secure about leaving us at home while they attend the temple,” says Ana. “Helping out at home helps the temple work, too.”
Temples are miraculous places, and it seems that no sacrifice is too great to get there. Carlos and Ana’s father, Jesus, once rode on the floor of a bus for 14 hours to get to Mexico City, since there wasn’t an empty seat. All of his children say that sacrifices leave no doubt in their minds that temple attendance is important.
In northern Mexico, where Omer used to live, crossing the border occasionally presented a problem. But Omer says that sometimes, when it seemed that people weren’t going to make it to the temple, circumstances changed at the last minute, allowing people to go.
“Passports were a problem [for people] trying to get to the [temple] dedication,” says Omer. “One sister went to get permission to cross the border, but she didn’t have any papers except for her temple recommend. The officer let her through.”
The Alonso family can think of no greater miracle than the fact that their family is sealed for time and eternity—except for maybe the miracle that very soon there will be a temple in their own city.
Emilio says, “Now that the temple will be here, it is very special because we’ll have the opportunity to come to the temple more often. We will be greatly blessed as a family when we have the temple here.”
Like any big city, Monterrey has its share of hustle-bustle and noise. At any given time there is a traffic jam in the making or an event drawing large crowds, or both. It’s exciting and exhausting all at the same time. But soon there will be a place, somewhere in this mass of activity, where calm and order will be the rule instead of the exception.
Omer Machuca is a lot like most boys his age. He is fascinated by the excitement that surrounds new places, different people, and unique cultures. And yet he knows that the most important border he will ever cross is the threshold of the temple. He knows that no matter how many languages he learns to understand, his understanding of the gospel will be more important. Emilio knows it, too. So do Anna and Rosa and all the other youth that can hardly wait for the temple to be built.
They are excited and happy that the house of the Lord will soon be closer to their own houses. And they are counting the days until a trip across town, instead of across the country, will take them a world away.

Shortly after World War II, I was visiting in Washington, D.C., and happened to pick up a New York newspaper. On the front page in a small box was reported an interview with a Russian historian who for a year had been visiting the United States and was about to return to his native land. I have forgotten the name of this historian, but I have not forgotten one of the questions reported to have been asked of him. The reporter said, “You have been in America for a year, studying our history and our people. Tell me, which of all the Americans do you consider the greatest?”
The Russian historian answered, “You have had only one great American—Joseph Smith, the Mormon Prophet.”
Giving a reason for his statement he said, “There is only one American who has advocated a way of life and has brought forth ideas, which, if followed, would change the whole society of the world.”
Delving into the life and teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith reveals a wealth of ideas so revolutionary that they could, if adopted, change the course of human history.
We don’t recognize how different from his times Joseph Smith was in his views:
He gave a new perspective of God, a restoration if you will, but a perspective at variance with that which prevailed. He proclaimed our Father to be a personal god, with a body—an individual who could speak and would speak to man—a person who would hear and answer prayers.
He brought forth new evidence that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, a resurrected being who had not only appeared in our day but had reestablished his church and was directing it.
He elevated man to a new position as the literal son of God and a god in embryo, who not only lived before appearing in the flesh but will live again after death and can, as a possibility, become a god.
He stated man to be the same species as God.
He declared that the whole purpose for the creation of this earth is for the benefit and eternal life of man—that our purpose in living is that we might have joy.
He taught that salvation will be universal, that all mankind will rise from the grave and can be forgiven of their sins upon repentance.
He announced that all the billions who have died might yet hear the gospel of Jesus Christ and, accepting it, have performed for them upon the earth all those necessary ordinances that lead to salvation.
These and countless other ideas are revolutionary. They are ideas that we still proclaim to the world and that, if accepted, could change the faith of all men.
Joseph Smith had some qualities that enabled God to use him and that would enable God to use you and me if we possessed them. For greatness is not handed to man upon a platter, and no individual can be an instrument in God’s hands except he possess the qualities that are inherent in leadership.
Intelligence
First is the quality of intelligence. Without opportunity for formal schooling, the Prophet was interested in almost every subject. In 1836 he was instrumental in bringing to the city of Kirtland, Ohio, where the Church was quartered, a Professor Seixas, a Hebrew scholar. The Prophet believed that the Church leaders should be familiar with the language. But how much Hebrew could you learn in 14 weeks, attending two or three nights a week? Only two students could read Hebrew with any degree of fluency afterward—Joseph Smith and Orson Pratt. The Prophet also appears to be the only one who publicly discussed various passages in the Bible from the Hebrew text.
Frequently we determine the intelligence of an individual by whether or not the views expressed in his lifetime withstand criticism in the years that follow. Some of the political views of the Prophet Joseph are interesting to review today:
He advocated a federal banking system—a type of reserve system that was not established in this country until 1917.
He urged Congress to place locks in the Mississippi River for the benefit of navigation. He didn’t live to see his hope fulfilled, but today the Keokuk Dam and locks, which permit large vessels to move on the river, have been built at the very spot advocated by the Prophet.
He proposed a prison reform system that is just beginning to be realized. Joseph contended that our prisons should become seminaries of learning if we expect to rehabilitate those who have violated the laws of our society.
It is not because Joseph Smith advocated these things that they have finally been adopted. But it does indicate that his views in many fields, in addition to religion, have proven to be realistic and farsighted.
Zeal for Learning
There is a second quality of the Prophet Joseph, a quality that you and I must have if we want to become leaders. It is a zeal for learning.
You may recall in the New Testament the story of a young student. He journeyed with his parents, Joseph and Mary, down to the feast of the Passover. We don’t know why the party with whom he traveled to Jerusalem left before the feast was over, but it appears as if they did; they were some distance on their way when Joseph and Mary discovered that their son was not with them. They went back and found him sitting at the feet—or standing before—some of the great Jewish teachers. At 12 years of age Jesus Christ had a zeal for learning.
Joseph Smith was of like nature. At the age of 14 he sought the true church. He would not give up until he found the answer. Throughout his life a zeal for learning was one of his great qualities.
This quality of mind is exemplified in the many languages he studied. He had a working knowledge of Hebrew and often studied the Bible in German. He also learned to decipher Egyptian. In an address to the Saints he made a list of some dozen languages and said, “If I live long enough, I’m going to master them all.”
Faith in a Living God
This zeal for learning might not seem so vital and might not have brought him to greatness save for a third qualification, for we have indeed had intelligent men and women in this world who have also had a great desire to know and whom we admire, but who have often lacked the third quality—faith in a living God.
What has this to do with learning? Joseph Smith indicates that often when he struggled with a problem and could not find the answer, he went to the Lord in prayer. If he prayed in faith, “the answer,” he said, “came into my mind, with such clarity and such sequence of thoughts that I knew it was of God and I dictated the answer to my scribe.”
No matter how intelligent we may be or how desirous to learn, without faith in God many areas are closed to us. But these were not closed to Joseph Smith.
I think that a vital example of his faith is found in his experience with the book of Genesis in the Bible. Any reader of that book runs into problems. For example, the biblical record indicates that Adam and Eve had three sons, Cain, Abel, and Seth. Cain killed Abel and that left Cain and Seth to perpetuate the human race. Anyone reading the Bible knows that is impossible.
Joseph Smith exercised great faith when he prayed to the Lord to reveal to him the original context of this book of Moses. The original writings had been lost to the world, but Joseph prayed to the Lord to reveal them to him. That revealed text we have today is the book of Moses in the Pearl of Great Price. It constitutes one of the greatest additions to biblical scholarship that has ever been given to the world.
Power of Introspection
Joseph possessed a fourth quality that is important to all of us. It is the power of introspection—the power to look within ourselves and see what kind of person we are.
Every morning each one of us looks into a mirror to examine our physical appearance—hair styling, makeup, general health. Have you ever thought how fine it would be to look within yourself—to meet yourself on the street and ask yourself what kind of a person you are, to interrogate yourself? Do you know your own faults, your own strengths?
Here is an interesting quality of the Prophet Joseph. He knew his weaknesses and his strengths. He declared, “I was a rough stone until the Lord took me in hand.” (History of the Church, 5:423.)
Most of us hide our weaknesses. When we read in the Doctrine and Covenants, sections 3, 6, 10, and 24, we find that the Lord frequently upbraided the Prophet Joseph for failure to follow fully the directions given him [D&C 3, 6, 10, 24]. A lesser man would not have recorded those reprimands, but the Prophet never spared himself. He acknowledged and corrected his errors.
When he translated the Book of Mormon, Joseph recognized his weakness in regard to the English language, for he had had so little schooling. He studied the language, and when the second edition of the Book of Mormon came from the press, he had personally corrected the grammatical errors of the first edition. If you want to see him at his literary finest, reread sections 121, 122, and 123 of the Doctrine and Covenants [D&C 121, 122, 123]. This beautiful writing stands as a monument to a man’s ability to rise.
The Prophet recognized in himself many weaknesses, but he set about to overcome them. He recorded that on one occasion a man came into his home and in a rage called him almost every name under heaven. The Prophet wrote that he was so incensed he kicked the man out of his house and all the way to the front gate. He then went back to his office and wrote in his journal how unbecoming of a prophet his actions had been. He never lost his temper again.
When he was imprisoned in Liberty Jail during that hard winter of 1838–1839, without a fire or proper food, Joseph heard lurid stories about how his people had been driven and massacred and the women ravaged. He pleaded with the Lord:
“O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?
“How long shall thy hand be stayed … ?” (D&C 121:1–2.)
It was a prayer of complaint. But when the Lord answered him, he said unto him:
“Thou art not yet as Job; thy friends do not contend against thee, neither charge thee with transgression, as they did Job.” (D&C 121:10.)
He reminded him that the Son of Man had descended below them all: “Art thou greater than he?” Joseph Smith did not complain again.
Love of People
Let me refer to a fifth characteristic of the man: love of people. No man can be great in this world without a love for his fellowmen. Emma said of Joseph that he would not even eat a meal alone but would have to invite a stranger from the street to share it with him. (See History of the Church, 6:166.) Written accounts are full of instances in which he stood for the defense of an individual. His own written account is full of situations in which he rebuked the Saints for criticizing one another.
The supreme evidence of his love occurred in June 1844 when, having had it revealed to him by the Lord that his enemies sought his life, he had planned to journey into the West and find a place for the Saints where they might be safe. He had crossed the Mississippi when word came from his wife Emma, “The Saints think you are a coward. They are charging that you are running away.” From Joseph came these famous words: “If my life is of no value to my friends, it is of no value to me. Hyrum, we are going back.” (See Essentials in Church History, p. 374.)
As he rode out of Nauvoo on his way to Carthage to give himself up to the sheriff, he turned in the saddle, and looking back upon the city of Nauvoo, said, “Oh, that I could but speak once more to my beloved people.”
On the highway he met Steven Markham who said to him “Joseph, where are you going?” He answered, “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter, but I am as calm as a summer’s morning. I have a conscience void of offense toward God and toward all men.” (Essentials in Church History, p. 376.)
This is the Prophet Joseph Smith who possessed these five great qualities: intelligence, zeal for learning, faith in a living God, the ability to look within himself and correct his own character, and a love of people. These five qualities, possessed collectively, helped to make Joseph Smith a fit instrument in the hands of God to be a prophet to this dispensation. These same qualities will greatly help us in our callings if we will but recognize and cultivate them.

After years of inactivity, my dad announced out of the blue one day that we were going back to church again. This met with some protest from me. Throughout my childhood I knew only vaguely of the Mormon church. Basically I knew that there were rules against everything I was currently doing. Besides, what would my friends say if they found out?
Finally my dad and I agreed that I would just try it out for a while and that if I decided against it he wouldn’t force me to go. Sunday came. I sat through sacrament meeting and Sunday School as if I were deaf. Then came Young Women. I sat in the corner, arms crossed, eyes glaring. (Later I found out that I had actually scared my adviser as much as I had hoped to.) With that Sunday over I vowed never again! The following Sundays I contracted everything from a cold to tonsillitis in order to avoid going.
Although I would have denied it at the time, I felt something that Sunday. I felt something from this adviser who really seemed to care about this strange new girl in her class. I felt something, too, from an LDS schoolmate who took an interest in my spiritual well-being. Somehow she convinced me to go back to church.
Then I met our bishop, a large rancher who seemed too gentle for his intimidating stature. In my first interview with him he asked me to pray. I refused. I knew how to pray, but I couldn’t because I believed God wouldn’t listen to such a sinner. The bishop seemed to understand, although I didn’t see how he could because I was sure he had never sinned in his life. But he didn’t condemn me. He seemed to consider me of equal value to all the “saints” in our ward. Feeling so accepted, I continued to attend.
The next couple of months were filled with something I had never felt before. I came to realize that it was the Spirit of the Lord trying to tell me that everything I was hearing and feeling was true. I don’t think I had a testimony at that time. I only knew that I loved my schoolmate and her funny ideas. I loved my Young Women adviser because she loved me. I loved my bishop because he didn’t condemn me. I loved the feeling I had when I was with these people, and I wanted that always in my life.