Gospel Story Finder

When temple visits for my branch were announced, I attended. Even though I could not yet enter the temple, I often walked the temple grounds. I prayed to Heavenly Father expressing my deepest desires to one day enter the temple. Some of these visits were only 10 minutes, but they had a profound impact on my spirit.
On one particularly cold and rainy evening, I arrived at the temple late. Although the grounds were closed, temple security allowed me a few moments on the grounds. I had with me a copy of the temple’s dedicatory prayer. I was impressed to read it.
I was filled with emotions as I read the following words: “Wilt Thou whisper peace to Thy people by the power of Thy Spirit when they come here with burdened hearts to seek direction in their perplexities. Wilt Thou comfort and sustain them when they come in times of sorrow. Wilt Thou give them courage, direction, and faith, when they gather, as to a refuge, from the turmoil of the world. Wilt Thou reassure them of Thy reality and divinity, and of the reality and divinity of Thy resurrected Son.”1
I knew then that my visits to the temple grounds meant something to the Lord, even though I was not inside the temple.

I remember a while ago, my companion and I were ministering in a family with people of various ages (at the time it was called home teaching). My companion would give the lesson from the First Presidency monthly message, and I would focus on the children, tailoring the lessons to their needs and level to make sure they understood. One day at the end of one visit, one of the parents expressed his gratitude for the fact these visits had a different meaning to their children—and even more meaning to the parents because we were meeting the needs of everyone in their home.

During this past summer, over 200,000 of our young people all over the world grew in faith at one of the hundreds of weeklong sessions of For the Strength of Youth, or FSY, conferences. Coming out of pandemic isolation, for many it was an act of faith in the Lord to even attend. Many of the young participants seem to follow a similar upward arc toward deeper conversion. At the end of their week, I liked to ask them, “So, how’s it been?”
They sometimes said something like this: “Well, on Monday I was so annoyed with my mother because she made me come and do this. And I didn’t know anybody. And I didn’t think it was for me. And I wouldn’t have any friends. … But now it’s Friday, and I just want to stay here. I just want to feel the Spirit in my life. I want to live like this.”

From his earliest days of singing “I Hope They Call Me on a Mission,” Jared Cassity planned on serving as a full-time missionary. He had read the scriptures and was familiar with all the missionary discussions. Most importantly, he was worthy and desired to go on a mission.

But he couldn’t go. Jared’s mental disabilities and some physical problems meant he could not serve a proselyting mission. “It took courage for me to accept that,” he says.

That was more than three years ago. Now, Elder Jared Cassity—that’s right, Elder—has been serving for three years. Elder Cassity was called on a stake mission. He is an assistant in the North Ogden Utah Stake’s missionary preparation class, helping other young men who are planning to go on missions become more prepared. “It took a lot of praying, but I know this is the right thing for me to be doing,” he says.

Elder Cassity shares his responsibilities in the class with Elder Paul Hansen, who has also been serving for three years. Elder Hansen also has mental and physical disabilities, but he manages to make it to class to set up chairs and distribute hymnbooks long before anyone else gets there. His mom, Janeen, says, “He felt really bad, because he’s always wanted to go on a mission, but it wasn’t right, and this was right.” Alma Harris, who teaches the class, says that as the time approached for Elders Cassity and Hansen to be released from their two-year missions, they wanted to remain in their callings, and he still needed their help.

Elders Hansen and Cassity have various responsibilities each week in the class, including bringing refreshments, setting up chairs, and giving an occasional talk. But their most important duty is preparing their stake’s future missionaries.

“I love the change that comes upon these wonderful boys when they serve missions,” Elder Cassity says, nearly crying. “I love seeing what the Spirit can do. … Sometimes I cry when I hear their wonderful testimonies, because I feel like I was one who helped that person.”

Cindy liked to paint and draw and play with her favorite dolls. She liked ruffled dresses, pretty hats, and shoes. In fact, she liked just about everything that most girls like. But more than anything, Cindy liked to play baseball!
Cindy had practiced pitching balls to George and Sam, her two older brothers, and she was really good.
“You should play baseball,” George told her one day. And Sam agreed.
“I’d like that,” Cindy said. There was nothing she wanted to do as much as play baseball during her vacation, even though she was a girl. But she knew there was little chance of her being able to do so. There was just one team in town, and only boys played on it.
Every afternoon she passed the city park on her way home from school. She always stopped at the baseball field to watch the teams warm up.
One afternoon while Cindy watched from the bleachers, she had an idea. She hurried over to Mr. Turner, the manager. “Can I join the team?” she asked.
The tall man smiled. “Are you joking? This is a boy’s sport! No girls are allowed on the team!” he replied.
“Why not?” Cindy questioned.
Mr. Turner thought for a moment before he answered, “I … well … we just don’t have girls. That’s why!”
“What if a girl can play as well as or even better than a boy? Could she get on the team then?” Cindy asked.
Mr. Turner thought about her question for a moment and then said slowly, “Well, I don’t know. It’s never been done here before, and I know the boys wouldn’t like it.”
Cindy shook her head. It isn’t fair, she thought. I know I can pitch better than any boy on the team, but they still won’t let me play.
The next day Cindy was back in the bleachers watching the ball speed back and forth. Suddenly there was a loud smack, and Cindy heard the pitcher cry out as he dropped the ball.
“What’s wrong?” Mr. Turner asked, as he rushed out to the mound where the pitcher stood holding his wrist.
“I think I sprang my wrist,” the boy moaned.
Putting his arm around the boy, Mr. Turner walked back to the bench with him.
“What’ll we do now?” the boys asked. “Our big game is this weekend. No one on the team can pitch as well as Mike!”
Cindy knew she could help the team. She hurried down from the bleachers and ran over to the boys who were huddled in a group trying to decide what to do.
“I can pitch for you!” she suggested.
The boys turned around and looked at Cindy. They began to smile.
“You? You’re a girl!” one of them laughed.
“I’m a girl,” Cindy agreed, “but I can pitch. Please give me a chance.”
The boys looked at one another. No one said anything for a moment. Finally Mr. Turner smiled. “Why not, boys?” he asked. “Let’s give Cindy a chance.”
Cindy walked to the pitcher’s mound, and the other team members returned to their positions. The catcher threw a few balls to Cindy, and the game started.
Cindy pitched the rest of the game. Afterward Mr. Turner came up to her and said, “Congratulations! I didn’t think you could play ball, but I was wrong!”
The boys agreed. “But what about the game this weekend?” they asked.
“I can play for you, Mr. Turner,” Cindy offered.
He looked at her and then at the boys. Finally he said, “Okay, Cindy. It might work out just fine this time.”
The boys cheered, and Cindy beamed with excitement.
The rest of the week Cindy practiced every afternoon with the team. And when Saturday finally arrived, she was ready for the big game.
At first the crowd laughed when they saw a girl walk out to the pitcher’s mound with long braids showing beneath her cap. But they soon saw what a good ball player Cindy really was.
“You were great, Cindy,” the boys said as they crowded around her after winning the game. “We couldn’t have won without you!”
It had been a wonderful afternoon for Cindy. She was too happy to say anything. All she could do was look around at the team, toss her braids, and smile!

Standing as a witness of truth takes on new meaning when everything at your high school is connected to religion—a religion other than your own. Not only does it mean being an example of how Latter-day Saints believe and act, but it also means respecting the beliefs of others and rejoicing in the truths you share.
For Lara Wolford, 18, Cameron Cabe, 18, and his younger sister, Jenna Cabe, 16, standing up for the truth they know is part of daily life. They attend Lehman High School in Sidney, Ohio, where the curriculum is Catholic, as are most of the students and faculty. Lara, Cameron, and Jenna, who are members of the Sidney Ward, Dayton Ohio East Stake, join their fellow students for weekly mass (worship services) and daily religion classes where the Bible is the textbook.
While being “different” has its difficulties, at a school where religion is a major focus, these teens have learned that having all eyes on you is a great way to teach by example.
“A lot of my friends and some of my teachers have told me that they respect how I stand up for what I believe in,” says Lara. “They know how I live and that I won’t lower my standards.”
That attention can sometimes lead to interesting opportunities to share the gospel. “I have one friend in particular who asks a lot of questions about the Church, so I gave him a Book of Mormon and a Finding Faith in Christ video for Christmas,” says Lara. But it didn’t end there. “When my other friends found out about that, they all wanted one!” Lara happily provided copies of the Book of Mormon to anyone who asked.
“They kept them in their lockers or book bags, and would pull them out and read them if they had some free time. One friend pulled his out in religion class one day to answer a question about Mormons.”
Cameron and Jenna’s mother, Darla, witnessed the result of Lara’s missionary work. She says, “One day I walked in the front door of the school to pick up Cameron from an after-school activity. Three non-LDS students who were waiting in the lobby for their rides were sitting there reading the Book of Mormon! When I asked them about it, they said that they had some questions and had decided to read it for themselves.”
Cameron used another student’s question about his beliefs as an opportunity to gain a sure testimony for himself. In his freshman year someone asked how he could believe that Joseph Smith really saw what he claimed to have seen. Cameron studied the history of the Church and began reading the scriptures every night. He explains what happened a little while later when that student asked him the same question again:
“He said, ‘Don’t you think that’s silly that something like that happened so close to the present time?’ And I said, ‘No, I don’t think it’s silly. I think it’s great.’ Later on, he told me that he ended up having more respect for me and other LDS students because of that.”
Lara has also had frequent opportunities to bear her testimony as she explains her beliefs to friends. “I share my testimony a lot, because when I am answering questions about why we do this or why we believe this, my testimony just comes out. It’s the best way to answer!”
Besides bearing her testimony, Jenna likes to be prepared. “I always have a copy of the Book of Mormon, a For the Strength of Youth pamphlet, and a copy of the Articles of Faith in my backpack so that if anyone ever asks questions, I can show it to them.”
Lara, Cameron, and Jenna have had many opportunities to share what they know, but attending a Catholic high school has also given them the chance to learn more about the beliefs of others.
Since Lara also attended a Catholic elementary school, she and her classmates have had plenty of time to get to know one another’s beliefs. “Over the 11 years that I’ve gone to Catholic school, there has always been a mutual respect between me and my classmates. We enjoy our similarities and respect our differences. I think the greatest form of respect is showing a sincere love for each other.”
Cameron, Lara, and Jenna try to show respect for their classmates’ religion by praying when they do at mealtime and by joining them in prayer before classes. They have also participated in Catholic mass as part of the school’s choir and orchestra. Jenna says of the weekly mass held each Friday at the school, “We don’t say the [Catholic] prayers with them, but we respect them. We stand when they stand and are reverent.”
And their classmates have returned the favor. Lara says, “They have prayed for my family during their school masses. When my brother was on his mission, they prayed for him that he would have a successful mission.”
While some of their beliefs are different, Cameron, Lara, and Jenna have appreciated seeing the truth observed by other faithful people and in the process have learned more about their own religion.
Cameron says answering difficult questions about the Church has made him pay more attention in seminary so that he has answers ready. “It makes me ask a lot of questions so that I understand it. It’s a learning experience for me, also.”
Seeing his friend’s reactions when he tells them he’s a priest has also made him appreciate the priesthood he holds. “They think it’s interesting that someone my age can be a priest,” he says. “It’s more of a responsibility, but it’s good because it makes me want to be on my best behavior even more.”
For the LDS students at Lehman High School, sharing the gospel and respecting their friends of other religions go hand in hand. Lara says, “I have a strong respect for anyone who lives their religion, and it gives me an opportunity to see what my friends believe and an opportunity to share what I believe.”
While attending a parochial (private religious) high school is a unique experience, Lara believes that when it comes to standing for truth, what really matters is inside your heart, not your high school.
“It doesn’t matter whether you go to parochial or public school,” she says. “It is easy to be LDS in high school anywhere if you have your own testimony.”
Editor’s note: Cameron Cabe is now serving as a full-time missionary in the Utah Ogden Mission.

A recent missionary-for-a-day activity conducted by the young people in the Renton Washington Stake resulted in five baptisms in two states as the result of one referral.
Heidi Vikari and Claudia Judd of the Renton Third Ward were assigned a tracting district in an older part of the town. The two took copies of the Book of Mormon and knocked on 15 doors that day, and at the last one, a woman responded to the message. She and a nine-year-old son were taught and baptized. She then referred the missionaries to a brother in Oregon, who also accepted the gospel. He, in turn, sent missionaries to another couple who also joined the Church.
Thus, within three months of knocking on doors in the stake’s semiannual missionary-for-a-day program, one contact resulted in five baptisms.

I flipped through the pages of the Young Women lesson I was going to give the following Sunday. The General Authority quotes it included were important and applicable, but they were old.
For example, President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) was President of the Church when I was baptized. I valued his words, which filled the manual, but I worried that the young women wouldn’t connect to the words of leaders they didn’t know.
I prayed for guidance and felt prompted to try something new. I updated some of the stories and included quotes from the most recent general conference, quoting President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018). The results were overwhelming. We had a special lesson with a lot of participation. From then on, I used the lesson manual as a guide to prepare my lessons.
Such preparation took extra work. I had to study more, I had to get to know the young women better, and I had to think about the experiences they were having. Then I would look for examples and words from living Church leaders I could use to relate to their lives. I was happy to go the extra mile for the young women because of my love for them.
My leaders eventually noticed what I was doing. I feared they might reprimand me for being rebellious, but they encouraged me to continue.

It was on a summer day early in the morning. I was standing near the window. The curtains obstructed me from two little creatures out on the lawn. One was a large bird and the other a little bird, obviously just out of the nest. I saw the larger bird hop out on the lawn, then thump his feet and cock his head. He drew a big fat worm out of the lawn and came hopping back. The little bird opened its bill wide, but the big bird swallowed the worm.

Then I saw the big bird fly up into a tree. He pecked at the bark for a little while and came back with a big bug in his mouth. The little bird opened his beak wide, but the big bird swallowed the bug. There was squawking in protest.

The big bird flew away, and I didn’t see it again, but I watched the little bird. After a while, the little bird hopped out on the lawn, thumped its feet, cocked its head, and pulled a big worm out of the lawn.

God bless the good people who teach our children and our youth, I humbly pray, in Jesus’ name. Amen.Elder Howard W. HunterOf the Council of the Twelve

María Coj was a 17-year-old member of the Church in Guatemala, the oldest of eight children. She was sick with cysticercosis, a parasitic infection that comes from eating contaminated food, that with time spread to her brain, causing terrible headaches and then blindness. To give her relief from the pain, it was necessary to move her from her home in Sololá to Guatemala City. Because of convulsions caused by the advances of the illness, her condition worsened, and it was only with life-support systems that she was kept alive. It was evident that she could not live long under those conditions.
At this same time, Erika Alonzo, 12, a partially blind member of the Church, traveled 22 hours by bus from Honduras to Guatemala City to receive an eye operation. For two weeks she waited for a cornea from the United States to be transplanted to her eye, but none was available.
At this same time María died. Because her blindness was caused by pressure on her brain, her corneas were healthy. María’s father and mother authorized the cornea donation. The operation was a success.
On the 12th of July 1993, Erika traveled to Sololá to meet the Coj family for the first time. The surprised family asked her, “Can you see?” She answered, “I see everything clearly.” It was a spiritual meeting. Sister Coj, who did not understand much Spanish, because her native language is Cakchiqúel, felt the love and the spirit of the conversation. Because of the donation of María’s eyes, Erika can now see and enjoy everything around her. The death of one person and the love of her parents blessed the life of another. The medical miracle of one person being able to look through eyes of another is a surprising reality.

During a recent trip, Julie and I attended church and saw this verse in action. A young man, soon to leave for his mission, spoke in sacrament meeting.

He said, “You all think my dad is such a good man at church, but …” He paused, and I anxiously wondered what he might say next. He continued and said, “He’s a better man at home.”

I thanked this young man afterward for the inspiring tribute he had paid his father. I then found out that his father was the bishop of the ward. Even though this bishop was serving his ward faithfully, his son felt that his best work was done at home.

Kylie stepped onto the big yellow school bus, trying not to look right at Marsha, the bus driver. Marsha always gave Kylie a look that made her feel like a bug under someone’s shoes.
“Sit down and be quiet!” Marsha barked over her loudspeaker. Kylie slipped into a seat next to her best friend, Tanisha.
“Is she ever in a good mood?” Tanisha whispered to Kylie.
“I don’t know why she’s so mean,” Kylie whispered back.
Just then, Marsha yelled, “Boy in the blue shirt! Turn around and face forward!”
Kylie and Tanisha looked at each other and frowned. They used to tell each other jokes on the bus ride, but now they were afraid to—Marsha might yell at them.
On the way home, Marsha yelled at a girl for talking too loud. Kylie didn’t say a word. When she got home, she sat down and put her head in her hands.
“Is something wrong?” Mom asked.
“I don’t know why our bus driver is so mean,” Kylie said. “Why does she hate everyone?”
“Maybe she feels sad,” Mom said. “Maybe she needs a friend.”
Kylie hadn’t thought of that, but it made sense. Anyone could become grumpy without friends.
Then Kylie had an idea. She got out some paper and folded a card. On the front she drew some flowers and wrote, “To Marsha.” On the inside of the card, she wrote: Dear Marsha, My name is Kylie. I have one sister and one brother. I like to draw. Thanks for driving the bus for us! Love, Kylie.
Kylie was nervous on the ride home the next day. Her hands shook as she pulled out the card. At her stop, Kylie handed Marsha the card, then ran out the door.
Kylie thought about it for the rest of the day. She wondered if Marsha would be angry about the card.
The next morning Kylie walked to the bus on jelly legs. She thought Marsha might yell at her. But when she looked up, Marsha gave her a big smile—something Kylie had never seen on her face before.
And then—even stranger—Marsha handed Kylie something. It was a postcard!
Kylie read the postcard on the bus ride to school.
Dear Kylie, Thank you so much for the card! No one has ever been so kind before. It sounds like you have a nice family. I don’t have a family, but I do have three cats I rescued from the shelter. Thanks for thinking of me! Love, Marsha.
Marsha didn’t say an angry word the entire ride.
“What’s that?” Tanisha asked, pointing to the postcard.
Kylie grinned. “A letter from my new friend!”

But then last year, I went through the same thing. I started thinking about what I want to do when I graduate school, like whether to go on a mission. I knew if I served a mission, I needed to believe the things I would teach people.
I started going deep into my study of religion. Most importantly, I began a deep study of the Book of Mormon. It was the first time I’d read the Book of Mormon slowly and prayerfully. I was expecting to all of a sudden know that the book was true, like my dad did when he joined the Church. I knew when I read it, I felt happy and closer to God. But I didn’t have that same burning feeling.
I saved the last chapter to read with the missionaries in our area. Without knowing how I was feeling, one of them started talking about how he’d had a similar experience. He said that for some people, gaining a testimony is like a light switch turning on. But for others, it is like the sun rising. “And that’s enough for me,” he said.
I am not perfect. I miss reading some days, simply because I forget, or sometimes because I make excuses not to read. My testimony of the Book of Mormon is still growing. But I believe it is true. I have a deep love for the Book of Mormon. The more I read it, the more that love grows, and my questions are answered.
And right now, that’s enough for me.

Joseph Smith was a valiant servant of the Lord Jesus Christ. He was brave and courageous in standing for right. One time, the Prophet Joseph and several other brethren were taken from their families and put in jail. They were chained together and had to sleep on the cold prison floor.

During one of the long, cold nights of their imprisonment, Joseph and his friends were unable to sleep. For hours the guards had been boasting loudly about the horrible things they had done to Latter-day Saints. They bragged about robbing, shooting, and killing men, women, and even little children.

Suddenly Joseph, unarmed and in chains, stood up and spoke in a voice like thunder: “SILENCE, ye fiends [devils] of the infernal pit. In the name of Jesus Christ I rebuke you, and command you to be still; I will not live another minute and bear such language. Cease [stop] such talk, or you or I die THIS INSTANT!” (Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt [1938], 180).

The guards shook, and some dropped their weapons. Some of the guards begged Joseph’s pardon. All of them remained quiet until a change of guards.

A third component in building family faith is to live with joy, says Lorenzo Mariani of the Pisa Branch, Florence Italy District. Lorenzo is a counselor in the district presidency while his wife, Ilaria, is a stay-at-home mother who serves in Young Women. They have a lot to do, and they try to accomplish it with a smile. They believe their visible happiness can help mold their children’s attitudes toward the gospel. “When we do something for the Church, we show a good example by not appearing stressed and by having a good attitude,” Lorenzo says. “Children can tell if you do something with joy or just because it’s a duty.”
“I think a lot every day about how to instill faith in my children,” Ilaria says. She hopes her constant loving care will show her sons, Gioele and Davide, the joy of families and that relationships are more important than money. She says, “The forces threatening the family in Italy include people not wanting to get married or not having more than one child so they can pay for their child to have lots of privileges.” She acknowledges that other children have more possessions than hers, “but these are less essential” than taking the time to teach her children eternal truths.
Ilaria sometimes feels lonely when so many women are socializing in the workplace, but she prays for help and feels the Spirit filling her with happiness and strength. “I am also blessed with a lot of sisters in the Church who love me,” she says. Sometimes when she prays for help, a sister in the branch calls and offers support.
As for extended family support, Ilaria and Lorenzo look forward to the day their posterity will have multiple generations of faithful forebears to learn from and emulate. “We pray for our posterity,” Lorenzo says. As a second-generation Church member, “I feel a big responsibility on my shoulders to be the strong link in the chain.”
Lorenzo and Ilaria feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the privilege of being pioneers—some of the first in their family to raise children with gospel light. Lorenzo’s mother was the first to join the Church in his family, and Ilaria learned about the Church from her aunt. “The gospel helps strengthen our marriage a lot,” Lorenzo says. It “gives us the eternal perspective of our family. We try to make the right choice in the eternal perspective instead of the mortal perspective.” These choices are the substance of strong links, connecting one faithful generation to the next.
“Sometimes when I hear stories in general conference about the speaker’s great-grandparents being pioneers, crossing the plains, I get a little jealous,” Ilaria admits. It’s hard for her to imagine having a whole family tree of people who sacrificed for the gospel. But she and Lorenzo are encouraged by the Church growth they have seen in their country. They are grateful for the first missionaries who planted seeds there, and they know a greater harvest is coming.
Ilaria smiles, envisioning that day. “I know that someday someone will be reading Great-Grandma Ilaria’s journal.” Family stories of faith are beginning with her today.

To illustrate, I quote this heartwarming pioneer account:
“Many years ago in a small town in the southern part of the state of Utah, my great grandmother was called to be the president of the Relief Society. During this period of our Church’s history there existed a very bitter and antagonistic spirit between the Mormons and the Gentiles.
“In my great grandmother’s ward one of the young sisters married a gentile boy. This of course did not please either the Mormons or the Gentiles very much. In the course of time this young couple gave birth to a child. Unfortunately the mother became so ill in the process of childbirth that she was unable to care for her baby. Upon learning of this woman’s condition, great grandmother immediately went to the homes of the sisters in the ward and asked them if they would take a turn going into the home of this young couple to care for the baby. One by one these women refused and so the responsibility fell completely upon her.
“She would arise early in the morning, walk what was a considerable distance to the home of this young couple where she would bathe and feed the baby, gather all that needed to be laundered and take it with her to her home. … One morning she felt too weak and sick to go. … However, as she lay in bed she realized that if she didn’t go the child would not be provided for. [With the help of the Lord,] she mustered all her strength and went. [When she returned home, exhausted, she] collapsed into a large chair and immediately fell into a deep sleep. She said that as she slept she felt as if she were consumed by a fire that would melt the very marrow of her bones. She … dreamed that she was bathing the Christ child and glorying in what a great privilege it would have been to have bathed the Son of God. Then the voice of the Lord spoke to her saying, ‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these, ye have done it unto me.’” (My Errand from the Lord: A Personal Study Guide for Melchizedek Priesthood Quorums 1976–77, pp. 154–55.)

I am very grateful to have had a father who did not overindulge his sons, except with love and moral support. I think I have a special appreciation for many things because of having worked in a canning factory and having caught the hot cans as they came from the capper, for the munificent sum of 25¢ per hour. One of the by-products of the job was to have the flesh of the hands peel off from the moisture and the heat of the cans. It also involved a 16-kilometer bicycle ride every day to and from work.

It was a bright, sunny Monday morning, with a breeze a little stronger than usual for August. The weather forecast for the Florida Keys was just right for sailing—moderate winds from the northeast, clear skies to scattered cloudiness, with widely scattered rain squalls. Along the Miami River a few elegant sailboats were already getting underway.
At the Out Island pier, 17 Explorers and leaders from Post 9796 were busy stowing supplies and personal gear below deck on two sleek, 41-foot sailboats the Maupiti and the Shepahoy. This was the beginning of an activity they had been preparing for ten months, the culmination of extensive planning.
At post meetings they had learned about sails and nautical charts, dead reckoning, safety, and the “rules of the road.” Now they were finally dockside, actually loading their snorkels and scuba tanks on board. The food they would eat all week was going into the galleys. Everything was nearly ready.
Excerpts from the logs kept on both vessels succinctly record the excitement of the group’s adventure at sea:
Monday, 10:55 A.M.—Shepahoy cast off. Motored down the Miami River to Biscayne Bay. Will pick up fishing gear and rendezvous with Maupiti at MacArthur Causeway.
Noon—Delayed by final engine repairs. Underway with Brother Bowman as first helmsman. Eight drawbridges had to raise for us as we went downriver. Three blasts with the horn is the signal to raise a bridge.
12:50 A.M.—Shepahoy and Maupiti left Miami River under sail in a brisk wind, making six to eight knots. Note: A rope is not called a rope. It is a line except when it’s a sheet, a lanyard, or a halyard. But it’s never called a rope.
2:30 P.M.—Finally learning how to walk on sloping, pitching decks. Slippery decks can be bad for your health! Note: If you are told to “fall off,” it means to steer further away from the wind, not to jump overboard.
3:15 P.M.—While underway, Richard Holt caught a barracuda. Now everyone wants to fish.
4:10 P.M.—Broke the topping lift. Repaired it. Glad the skipper was giving orders when it broke instead of one of us landlubbers!
6:55 P.M.—Anchored off Elliott Key. Rafted vessels together. Everyone went swimming, then ate dinner.
8:10 P.M.—Boats separated and anchored apart for the night. Mosquitoes pretty bad until wind came up. Must anchor further off shore in the future.
Tuesday the group headed for Angelfish Creek, the passage through the Keys into the Atlantic.
9:15 A.M.—David Spellman sighted the first shark. The water is amazingly clear. It looks like you are about to go aground even when the Fathometer reads 11 to 13 feet.
1:30 P.M.—Dropped anchor just off Carysfort Reef lighthouse in 25 feet of water. The four qualified scuba divers made their first dive, while the others went snorkeling. The reef is amazing, visibility magnificent. Color and variety of fish are fantastic. We sighted barracuda, huge angelfish, groupers, grunts, and lobster, as well as brain coral, antler coral, and fan coral. Derek Doty saw a shark. Too bad no one has an underwater camera!
The boats anchored off Grecian Rocks for the night, where high waves on a rough sea made them pitch heavily. Showers hit just after 2:00 A.M., sending those sleeping on deck scurrying below. By daylight the sea was even rougher. Several of those assigned galley duty couldn’t fulfill the assignment—on the Shepahoy Brett Summers was the only Explorer who could do the cooking, but there wasn’t much demand for food. On the Maupiti Don Wise and his father looked strangely healthy while the others were turning a little green. Only a few hearty souls didn’t show specific signs of “epigastric awareness,” and there was a feeling that those who didn’t join the general misery weren’t expressing proper brotherhood. One fellow felt so ill he asked for a priesthood blessing, and he seemed relieved after receiving it.
Nevertheless, by 9:00 A.M. both vessels were moving out. Maupiti headed for Rodriguez Key and more snorkeling, while Shepahoy’s crew decided to stop at the underwater statue of the Savior. The figure and base stand about 30 feet tall in a grotto of coral heads, the highest point about ten feet under water. An enormous barracuda seemed to be guarding the site and kept anyone from getting too near to the impressive memorial.
The two vessels rendezvoused again and headed together to Key Largo to fill the ships’ tanks with water and the scuba divers’ tanks with air. Solid ground felt good after the rough seas. Key Largo’s supply of seasickness pills and snack food was perceptibly reduced during the Explorers’ visit.
Back at sea, on the way to Mosquitoe Bank, Miguel, the young professional Scouter who had accompanied the LDS group as an adviser, caught ten lobsters. Lee Burdge, with great delight, caught one of his own, and we had the makings of a feast.
Capturing a lobster by hand requires considerable talent, because they have quick reactions. The lobster hides in crevices at the bottom of reefs, and the hunter, without being seen, has to tickle its tail with a long wire. This causes the lobster to dart from its hole, and the hunter then tries to catch it in his gloved hand, avoiding the sharp and pinching claws.
Wednesday evening rain fell again, postponing the scheduled talent night. Thursday morning the divers found no lobsters, but did spot a large moray eel in the reef and stayed clear of it. Shawn Pergande shot two fish with an air gun, and a six-foot barracuda followed Ray Holt, Wayne Bucklew, and Shawn for about 30 minutes. At 10:45 anchors came up and the two boats headed for Rodriguez Key, in the first of two races held during the trip.
The Maupiti started off slightly behind. Both vessels were beating hard against the wind. The entire crew of the Shepahoy hiked, trying to get the mast straighter and higher. The race had no formal finish because the Shepahoy ripped her genoa and dropped out for repairs. But let it be officially noted that the Maupiti was at least three lengths ahead when the sail tore.
The Maupiti was at anchor when the Shepahoy arrived. As they came alongside, cannoneers suddenly burst from the cabin with buckets and tubs of water balloons. The Maupiti was hit with a full salvo, but its crew had heard rumors of a possible sneak attack and returned the fire. One of the great naval battles of all time ensued—not one that would topple empires, but certainly no more colorful or spirited engagement ever took place. Brother Holt, awakened by the sound of combat, sleepily poked his head out of the cabin and immediately received three direct hits. As ammunition ran low, Doug Lind and Lee Burdge dove into the water to retrieve unburst balloons and came under heavy fire. Boarders from the Shepahoy were repulsed after almost scaling the Maupiti’s anchor chain. The battle lasted 30 minutes, and final victory was inconclusive and much debated for the rest of the trip.
That night, following a delicious feast earned by great heroics, the postponed talent night was finally held. Richard Holt and his father started with a skit, the bishop recited a poem, Donald Harper-Smith and his dad presented another skit, and eventually everyone shared some form of talent before another rain squall, just after the closing prayer, called a halt to the evening.
Friday, 6:10 A.M.—Awoke. Breakfast. Set sail for the statue. Anchored. Divers in the water. Discovered we are at the wrong reef, Cannon Reef. Recovered divers and set sail. Arrived at the statue. Waves too rough for diving. Difficult to handle tanks and flippers on pitching deck. Skipper canceled dive for safety reasons. Set sail for Angelfish Creek and Miami.
10:20 A.M.—We entered the Gulf Stream. The water is deep blue. We expected a lot of fish here. Didn’t find many. Ray caught a barracuda and Richard caught an amberjack. Wayne snagged a lobster trap!
As the two vessels cleared the Angelfish Creek channel, a second race began. Across Biscayne Bay the two beautiful boats darted, beating to windward. The breeze was brisk, the weather exhilarating. Rounds of shouting added to the excitement. The boats were well matched, the crews intensely competitive. Fairness requires, though, that the Shepahoy should be credited with a clear-cut victory.
Anchorage that night was across the bay from Miami. The skyline reflected beautifully in the water. Lobsters tasted better for having been caught by hand. With boats moored together, the combined crews held a testimony meeting, expressing their brotherly love and gratitude. The setting was spectacular and the spirit impressive. Almost everyone had expressed himself when Miguel, who had been quietly listening, asked if he could participate.
“Of course,” he was assured. He said that he felt a wonderful spirit, that he hadn’t felt anything like it since he had been active in his own Catholic Scout troop. He said he had been on cruises with many Explorer posts, but he wanted us to know he felt something special about our group. Everyone was deeply moved.
That night, as the boats rocked gently, everyone slept soundly. In the morning, we would sail up-river to the docks, and our days at sea, for the time being at least, would be over. But we knew it wouldn’t take much prodding to get us to come back again.

One day, shortly after the first Barnardo Home was opened, a pale and ragged boy asked Dr. Barnardo to take him in. Regretfully, Barnardo had to refuse, for the house was already full. He gave the lad, known as Carrots, some money and asked him to come back later. Carrots never returned, for during that week he died from cold and hunger.
Barnardo vowed that he would never let such a thing happen again. Without delay he had erected over the door of the home a signboard that read, “No Destitute Child Ever Refused Admission.” From that day to this, no matter what the hour of day or night, that pledge has been honored.
Barnardo’s doors are always open and no deserving child is ever turned away.

As a young college graduate, Marshall Romney knew very little about investing when he became interested in the money market. After talking with co-workers who were making a profit through gold and silver investments, Brother Romney decided this was the investment for him. He bought a bag of coins, arranged to store the coins with the company he purchased them from, and later used a bank loan to buy more bags.
Unfortunately, the value of the coins stopped going up and started going down. In addition to getting into debt, Brother Romney discovered the company he invested in had disappeared. They had exploited their customers by selling nonexistent bags of gold, which they conveniently offered to store in their secure warehouse. Brother Romney was a victim of fraud.