Gospel Story Finder

Many years ago my twin brother and I left our home in Göteborg, Sweden, to serve the Lord as full-time missionaries in England. During our flight to London, numerous thoughts ran through my head. For one thing, my brother and I would have to separate in London, and for the first time in our lives we would not be together every day. But the thing that worried me most was that I didn’t know the English language well. At that time missionaries from Sweden did not receive language instruction or any other training; they were sent straight from home to the mission field. I thought of my twin brother, who was gifted in languages. My interests leaned more toward technical subjects, and for this reason I had not spent much time studying languages in school.
After I arrived in London and then finally in Birmingham, the headquarters of the England Central Mission, the mission president and his wife greeted me with huge smiles and all possible warmth. Everyone I met at the mission office was happy and enthusiastic and spoke with me about things such as study guides, tracting, companions, and so forth. But I could not understand much because their language was new and foreign.
Despite the kindness of the people around me, I felt overwhelmed. How could I ever testify of the gospel in this strange language? I spent much of that first night on my knees, asking Heavenly Father why He had sent me here and if there had possibly been a mistake.
The following day an assistant to the mission president showed me a scripture—Ether 12:27. I got out my Swedish Book of Mormon and read: “If men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them” (Ether 12:27).
If anyone had a weakness, I did. Questions arose in my mind: Do you believe what is written in this verse? If so, do you have the courage to exercise the faith required? And can you humble yourself before the Lord so that your weakness can become your strength?
As a struggling young missionary, I thought back on this experience and realized that because I had received a confirmation from the Lord that the Book of Mormon is true, then what I read in the book of Ether was also true. I knelt in humble prayer before my Heavenly Father and expressed my inner feelings about my mission call and my language weakness. I promised Him that I would get up early every morning to study and memorize the 70 pages of lessons and scriptures we were to use to teach the people. I told Him I had faith that He, in return, would help me learn the language so that I could testify of Him and of His Son.
Early every morning thereafter, I prayed to Heavenly Father and said, “Here I am; let us start.” In a relatively short time I was able to testify that the scripture in Ether is true. My ability to speak English—a weakness when I first started serving my mission—became a strength to me.
This experience has been a blessing to me all of my life. Many times I have thought new Church callings were beyond my abilities. Then the Spirit has testified to me and reminded me of the experience I had as a young missionary in England. With great gratitude these many years I have felt strength radiating from those words that are recorded in the book of Ether. Through the power of the Spirit, they can give each of us strength, guidance, and hope.

When I was a boy, we lived on a farm in the summer. It was in the country, where the nights were dark. There were no streetlights or anything of the kind. My brother and I slept out-of-doors. On clear nights—and most of those nights were clear and the air was clean—we would lie on our backs and look at the myriads of stars in the heavens. We could identify some of the constellations and other stars as they were illustrated in our encyclopedia. Each night we would trace the Big Dipper, the handle and the cup, to find the North Star.
We came to know of the constancy of that star. As the earth turned, the others appeared to move through the night. But the North Star held its position in line with the axis of the earth. And so it had come to be known as the Polar Star, or the Polestar, or the Lodestar. Through centuries of time, mariners had used it to guide them in their journeys. They had reckoned their bearings by its constancy, thereby avoiding traveling in circles or in the wrong direction, as they moved across the wide, unmarked seas.
Because of those boyhood musings, the Polar Star came to mean something to me. I recognized it as a constant in the midst of change. It was something that could always be counted on, something that was dependable, an anchor in what otherwise appeared to be a moving and unstable firmament.

One item that is always on the agenda of every class or quorum presidency each month is the members they don’t see very often or at all. The deacons have only a couple of members they don’t see regularly. In the presidency meeting, Mark Jones asks, “Have any of you seen Francisco?”
Royden answers, “Not recently. I think the last time I saw him was two weeks ago.”
Mark says, “I’ll talk to the bishop about it. I think he has a problem getting a ride to church.”
Royden then brings up a project he’s trying to work out. Their ward is so spread out that long-distance telephone calls are required to reach from one area to another. Royden is trying to figure out who can make calls to whom without using long-distance telephone service.
“It’s like the food chain,” explains Royden. The others look at him blankly.
“It’s like bears and deer and grass,” continues Royden. “Something eats something that eats something else, and so on.”
“Oh,” says Jay Venable, first counselor, “like a phone web. That’s a good idea.” And they are soon figuring out a plan to contact the other quorum members without running up phone bills.

She met Russell Ball, president of Staines Stake, who introduced LDS Charities and the Burnley Ward elders quorum president, William Haddock to her. William and LDS Charities helped BEST receive nearly £12,000 of funding, which enabled them to deliver a further 5,000 packs across Burnley around Christmas.
William said, “In one of the meetings I had with Sam at the centre she pointed out that she was struggling to get hold of hygiene bags to house the goods that the money would buy. I suggested that we could make the bags, thereby allowing our members to be involved and serve instead of just providing a financial donation. I approached Sister Carol Cryer (our ward Relief Society president and asked what she thought). Carol worked with Chester England Stake sisters and produced over 5,000 bags. It was amazing, but exactly what we have come to expect from our amazing sisters. Whilst LDS charities provided the money, the real miracle was how our sisters (and brothers) pulled together to make the bags.”
Continued William, “Sister Cryer and her daughters made a video showing how to make the bags. She sourced the materials, which along with the video, were distributed throughout the stake. President Russell Ball initially met Samantha at a meeting, and it went from there. He got in touch with President Michael Gratton (Chorley Stake president) who in turn got in touch with me as elders quorum president in Burnley Ward. President Gratton was very keen and supportive from the outset, and Chorley Stake funded a further £1,200 to purchase the materials to make the bags.”
“When you break the pack down into products, 80,000 sanitary towels were delivered with the funds that the Church provided for us. That’s incredible.” Samantha explained.
From September 2020 to the end of January 2021 the project delivered 12,400 packs to females of Burnley.
Samantha said, “Not only did LDS Charities provide us with the products we needed to complete our Christmas response, but they also provided links to an organisation and people within it, with whom we can build a future relationship. William Haddock collaborated with Carol Cryer from Burnley who organised a far-and-wide bag-making mission. In total, between William and Carol and the congregation of Latter-day Saints, they hand-made 5,079 drawstring cotton bags. They were so beautiful and so much easier to handle when packing. Each bag was made with care, knowing that they would be helping make someone’s life a little bit better; as a community you cannot put a value on that.”
She continued, “We will be forever grateful to Russell, William and Carol who helped us every step of the way. If Latter-day Saints ever need help from us, that connection is available to return the help. We just wanted to say thank you.”

Following years of planning and preparation, I finally made my way to the Holy Land with family and close friends. As we approached the Sea of Galilee, we looked forward to seeing Capernaum.
In Capernaum we explored ruins and wandered down old city roads in awe of what this little village had witnessed (see Matthew 11:23). Later, I stopped and sat under a tree, pondering and gazing out on the Sea of Galilee. My great expectations to feel the events of the scriptures come to life, however, remained unfulfilled. Despite my preparation for the trip, sincerity in seeking Christ, and determination that had brought us here at last, I felt an emptiness that weighed on my heart.
Why wouldn’t this place where Christ blessed so many people also bless our lives? As I grappled with my feelings, I longed to read the scriptures. I checked with each member of our group, but sadly, no one had brought a Bible. Fortunately, one member of our group had a personal digital assistant with an electronic version of the scriptures on it. We soon gathered around, listening as someone read verses in Matthew 4 and Mark 5 about the Savior in Capernaum.
As soon as our focus shifted to the scriptures, the emptiness that I had been feeling was replaced with a comforting witness of the love of the Savior and of the reality of the events of which the scriptures testify. We had come to Capernaum searching for Christ, but we didn’t find Him until we searched the scriptures. It was not the physical surroundings that bore witness to us but the Holy Ghost.

Part of the tragedy you must avoid is to discover too late that you missed an opportunity to prepare for a future only God could see for you. The chance to learn another language is for me a painful example. My father was born in Mexico. He grew up speaking Spanish as his first language. I lived in his home for more than 20 years. Sadly, I never asked him to teach me a word of Spanish. But my Church assignments have caused me to have contacts in Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Venezuela, and Ecuador. It was no accident that I was born into a home with a Spanish-speaking father. My father was a great teacher. He was a chemist. He even kept a blackboard in our basement for his children. He was eager to teach me mathematics. He spent hours trying to help me solve problems for my physics classes. He pled with me to think more often about those things that then seemed so uninteresting and unimportant. Years later I was called by the Lord to the Presiding Bishopric of the Church and given responsibilities for computing and communications systems. What a blessing I might have had if I had followed with my father the counsel I am giving to you now. Your life is carefully watched over, as was mine. The Lord knows both what He will need you to do and what you will need to know to do it. You can with confidence expect that He has prepared opportunities for you to learn. You will not recognize those opportunities perfectly, as I did not. But when you put the spiritual things first in your life, you will be blessed to feel directed toward certain learning, and you will be motivated to work harder. You will recognize later that your power to serve was increased, and you will be grateful. Your service may not be in what the world would recognize as a lofty calling. But remember that when the real value of service becomes clear in the judgment of God, some people who worked in quiet anonymity will be the real heroes.

I can remember years ago coming out of my first accounting class and feeling like I had just come out of a class where a foreign language had been spoken. I didn’t have a clue what a debit or a credit was and what it meant in terms of cash flow and a balance sheet. I didn’t know where to turn. One of my best friends at the university (not a member of the Church) was studying to be a certified public accountant, and he loved accounting. I can vividly remember sitting down on a hillside on a grassy knoll, opening our books, and having him tutor me in the language of accounting and its objectives and purposes, which I would take with me into the business world for the rest of my life. Harvey wasn’t concerned or worried that I would get a higher grade or be able to pass rather than fail. He was helping a friend in need. You never forget such gestures of kindness and caring in life. It is more than an educational process to get a credit. This is how dear friends are bonded and a realization of why we are here in mortality.

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.

The famed scientist, Madame Marie Curie, returned to her home the night of the funeral for her husband, Pierre Curie, who was killed in an accident in the streets of Paris, and made this entry in her diary:
“They filled the grave and put sheaves of flowers on it. Everything is over. Pierre is sleeping his last sleep beneath the earth; it is the end of everything, everything, everything.” (Vincent Sheehan, trans., Madame Curie: A Biography by Eve Curie, Garden City, New York: Garden City Publishing Co., 1943, p. 249.)

Another story I would like to share is about our friend and neighbor at TVA, Mi Jeong Lee. She and her husband, Yoon Ha, and daughters, Han Sol, Han Bi, and Emma, were also our neighbors while living in TVA. Mi Jeong and Yoon Ha came from South Korea and took the giant leap of faith to move to Hawaii leaving behind family and friends, as well as employment. Mi Jeong and Yoon Ha would come to BYU–Hawaii and learn English as a second language, while being immersed in a new culture, and earning their bachelors’ degrees. An accomplishment that is no small feat, and that many of you are familiar with. During their time at BYU–Hawaii we were fortunate to make many fond memories together. Our children enjoyed playing, while the husbands’ activity of choice was night diving, and last, but not least, we all enjoyed Mi Jeong’s incredible pastries and Korean pancakes.

Mi Jeong has shared that the value of their time at BYU–Hawaii was beyond measure. During her experience she strengthened her faith and testimony, learned English, earned a bachelor’s degree, and made lifelong friends. Mi Jeong has shared that through a Church calling in her ward she overcame her fears through study and faith. Mi Jeong’s first calling in her new ward at BYU–Hawaii was one that she really did not want to take. Mi Jeong was called to be a Relief Society teacher, and she felt very strongly that her English was not good enough to do this calling. Mi Jeong said yes anyway. Through much study and practice, Mi Jeong put in hours to prepare for her Relief Society lessons. Mi Jeong even wrote a script to follow that was over ten pages long. One Sunday when she was teaching, Mi Jeong felt inspired to go off script and to share what was in her heart and mind. She testified that she was able to say all the things she wanted to through the Spirit of the Lord and likened her experience to the following two scriptures:
D&C 33:8 “Open your mouths and they shall be filled, and you shall become even as Nephi of old, who journeyed from Jerusalem in the wilderness.”
D&C 8:2 “Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart.”
Through this Church calling Mi Jeong said she learned that through study and faith the Lord works miracles and can even make weaknesses into strengths.

Since graduating from BYU–Hawaii, Mi Jeong’s husband, Yoon Ha, has worked for the Korean Government Ministry of Land, Infrastructure, and Transport. Recently, he managed transportation to carry athletes from accommodations and stadiums to the Pyeongchang Winter Olympics in 2018. In April of this year, he led his team to sign an MOU with the Utah Transit Authority introducing a light rail traffic system in Korea.

As for Mi Jeong, she majored in TESOL and taught English for several years after graduation. She then returned to school and earned a master's degree in counseling. Mi Jeong currently works at a juvenile facility helping at-risk teens who deal with mental illnesses and serious traumatic events in their lives.

During their years at BYU–Hawaii Mi Jeong and her family were able to earn their college degrees, develop meaningful and impactful relationships with others, and gain invaluable experiences and skills which have blessed their life’s journey in ways that cannot be measured.

The Young Women of the Salt Lake Winder West Stake chose a rather unusual project. They became involved in making scrapbooks for patients at a medical center. The scrapbooks were filled with colorful pictures that could represent pleasant memories for older patients. Jill Richins of the Winder West Fourth Ward said that the scrapbooks became precious possessions of the patients. “We made the scrapbooks to help them fill the hours when they have nothing to occupy themselves.” The director of the medical center also worked with the girls to teach them to help orient the patients to their daily surroundings.

“When I was about nine years old, I remember Grandpa sitting in his big overstuffed chair. He allowed me to stand behind him and comb his beautiful hair. I would part it in the middle then comb it back in different ways. Sometimes I would part his hair on the side and try a new style, and I would comb it down over his face in the process. He was very patient and let me comb it until my arms were tired.”

I remember one Christmas Eve, not too many years back, when I went to sit in the home of a little widow in our ward and spent thirty or forty minutes with her. She discussed with me the things that were in her heart that lonely Christmas Eve, and I received a little jar of jelly from her as I prepared to depart. I found out a few months later that she was in a rest home, so I dropped by occasionally and visited her there. Then again, just a few short months after that, I was privileged to speak at her funeral. I suppose that acts such as this are performed outside the Church as well; but I feel that the greater act was hers, because she gave me an opportunity and blessings that I would not have had otherwise.

Now I think I’ll skip over some of my missionary experiences. This one might interest you. While I was laboring as a district president in Amsterdam on my first mission, my companion and I were invited to the home of one of the Saints. She wanted to invite her neighbor in and wanted us to come and teach her the gospel. When we arrived, the neighbor was there, but she had brought her minister along with her to make sure that we told her the right things. Well, the minister and I had a little difference of opinion on the subject of priesthood and right there he challenged me to a debate in his church. In those days we were not advised not to debate, and so I accepted the challenge–I was young and had plenty of fight in me.

When we arrived at his church a week from Saturday night, the church was full; all of his people were there, and all of our people. How our people had found out about it I do not know. I had not told them. I think he had spread the word around, thinking to show us up. But at any rate, he stood up and said, “Inasmuch as Mister Richards is a guest in our church we’ll accord him the privilege of opening the debate, and we’ll each talk for twenty minutes and continue as long as it’s mutually agreeable.” He asked, “Is that agreeable to you, Mister Richards?”

And I said, “Very much.” I did not tell him that I would have given him the shirt off my back for the privilege of opening that debate, and he had just handed it to me on a silver platter. I did not know whether the Lord had anything to do with that or not, but I thought he did.

I stood up and said, “The last time I talked to my friend, we had a difference of opinion in regard to the principle of the priesthood. I’ve come tonight prepared to discuss that subject, but I do not propose to start with that subject.” This is a device that has helped me in my work: I said, “If you were going to build a house, you wouldn’t try to put the roof on it before you got the foundation in, would you? Because if the foundation were faulty the house would tumble anyway so what good would the house be? I propose to open this debate tonight by laying the foundation of the gospel of Jesus Christ, and I choose for my text the sixth chapter of Hebrews, where Paul said,
Therefore leaving the principles of the doctrine of Christ, let us go on unto perfection; not laying again the foundation of repentance from dead works, and of faith toward God,
Of the doctrine of baptisms, and of laying on of hands, and of resurrection of the dead, and of eternal judgment. [Hebrews 6:1–2]
I hurried over faith and repentance; I assumed that they believed that. I preached baptism by immersion for the remission of sins until everybody in the audience was giving me accord. Then it came to the laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost, and they did not believe that. They thought the Holy Ghost just came, like the breezes that blow from the heavens.

I reminded them that when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God through the preaching of Philip they sent Peter and John. When these apostles arrived, they prayed for the people, then laid their hands upon them, and the people received the Holy Ghost. When Simon the sorcerer saw that the Holy Ghost was conveyed by the laying on of the apostles’ hands, he offered them money, saying, “Give me also this power, that on whomsoever I lay hands, he may receive the Holy Ghost.” And Peter said, “Thy money perish with thee, because thou hast thought that the gifts of God may be purchased with money” (see Acts 8:14–20). Then I gave two or three other references on laying on of hands and I sat down.

The minister stood up. He never mentioned a word I had said. He started expounding on a few of the bad things that our enemies had said against us and then said, in the most courteous manner, “Now, if Mister Richards will enlighten us on these matters I’m sure this audience will be most appreciative.”

I was on my feet just like that. (My companion later asked how I could think so fast; I responded, “What have you been praying for all week long?”) I stood up and said, “In the days of the Savior his enemies tried to trick him with cunning and craftiness. I don’t suppose there’s anyone here today who’d like to see us resort to those old tactics. If I understand a debate, it’s a presentation and answering of arguments. Has this man answered any of my arguments?” All shook their heads negatively. “All right, my friend,” I said, “you may have your twenty minutes over again.”

He would not do it. I knew he could not. His wife, who was in the audience, stood up and said, “What Mister Richards is asking is fair. You ought to answer him.” And even then he would not do it.

I said to my companions, “Stand up. Give me my coat and hat.” (It was winter.) “One more chance,” I announced. “I am willing to remain here till ten o’clock tomorrow morning, when I have to be in my own church, provided this debate can go forward on the basis that you have set up. If not, I am going to leave and ask my companion to leave and ask our people to leave, and I shall leave it with you to settle with your people for what has happened here today.” And still he would not do it. So we all walked out on him. I met him on the street time and time again after that and he would duck his head so that he would not have to speak to me. Well, that is one of my little experiences there.

The first thing Zayne Callahan can remember is living in the basement of an orphanage in China. He had been there since he was a baby. Zayne later learned that he was kept in the basement so people who came to the orphanage to adopt children wouldn’t see him.

“I was considered an embarrassment because I was born with spina bifida,” Zayne says. Spina bifida is a birth defect that made his legs weak and prevented him from walking normally. “I wasn’t able to go to school or hardly even learn the Chinese language because the people at the orphanage didn’t think it was important to teach a child with a disability.”

Zayne was seven years old when John and Wendy Callahan—his future parents—first saw him on a videotape of Chinese children waiting to be adopted. When the photographer passed the camera over Zayne briefly, he smiled and waved. That action won the hearts of his future parents who recognized his brave, strong, intelligent spirit.

That was five years ago. Now, Zayne is a deacon in the Lolo Ward of the Stevensville Montana Stake. When he turned 12, he wanted to fulfill his priesthood responsibilities by passing the sacrament. That was a big challenge for a boy who must use crutches to walk.

Originally, Zayne tried to pass the sacrament while balancing on his crutches. When that didn’t work, he decided to use his wheelchair instead. Now Zayne passes the sacrament by placing the trays on his lap and wheeling down the aisles.

Zayne works hard to fulfill his other priesthood duties too. An older member in his ward says she was impressed when the young men went to her home to pick up rocks as a service project. She found Zayne sitting on the ground putting rocks into a wheelbarrow. He had laid his crutches down because they were in the way, but his disability didn’t stop him from serving just like the other boys.

According to his father, Zayne doesn’t waste time feeling sorry for himself. If he wants to do something, he figures out a way to do it. He played a lead part in the school production of Red Riding Hood. He was the head wolf and led a pack of wolves onstage, his crutches keeping time to the music. He is also an accomplished violinist and pianist. While playing his violin, he has to sit on a high stool rather than stand like most violinists, but that doesn’t distract from the beauty of his music.

No matter where Zayne goes or what he does, people notice his good example. One classmate summed it up by saying, “He’s that boy with the big smile.”

For Ben H., 18, of North Lanarkshire, Scotland, the pageant was a great opportunity to share his faith and love of the restored gospel. Ben enjoyed his time performing, but the best lesson he learned was the importance of the gospel principles taught in the pageant. “The most important thing I learned was that the purpose of the production was to invite all to come unto Christ,” Ben said. While mingling with the audience at the end of a performance, Ben met a young man his age who had received a prompting during the pageant to serve a mission. The young man hugged Ben and thanked him for the performance. “He and I were both crying, and I was touched. I knew that was the reason I was there participating in the pageant.”
And even though he enjoyed his time on stage, Ben recognizes that the work doesn’t stop at the end of a performance or a pageant. “It doesn’t end when the production ends, because the production wasn’t the important thing. The important thing was that I was learning to be a missionary” and that others were learning about gospel truth.

“Get off there, boy!” A soldier grabbed André and pulled him off the bridge railing where he had climbed to get a better view.

André struggled out of the man’s grip. Pushing his brother, Philippe, ahead of him, he darted into the crowd, out of the soldier’s reach.

Ba-room! They heard the distant sound of a mortar being fired.

“That’s the signal!” a woman cried. “They’re beginning to fill it with heated air!”

The boys excitedly made their way to the other end of the bridge that stretched across the Seine River. They found a spot near a lamppost and leaned against it to rest.

André looked down at his brother. Philippe was only nine, and André knew that he must be tired after their journey from the family farm near Sarcelles. Ten miles is a long way to walk, even for strong farm boys like André and Philippe. Their feet were hot and sore from wearing the rough woolen stockings their mother had made them wear because of the November chill.

“André, I’m hungry!”

André got out the bread and cheese Grandpapa had packed for their lunch in a cloth sack. Since he was two years older than Philippe, André had been put in charge of their adventure.

They were enjoying their meal when an old man near them shouted, “Someone’s coming!”

Two men on horseback came riding over the bridge, headed toward Paris. The crowd milled around them, shouting questions.

“What’s happened?”

“Has it gone up yet?”

“Why can’t we see it?”

“I thought it was supposed to start up at noon!”

The questions were coming so quickly and loudly that it was hard to hear the riders’ answers.

After they passed by, André turned to the old man. “Pardon, sir, but what did those men say?”

“There was a delay as they were preparing to send the flying machine up for a test. It seems that some rips and holes have to be mended.”

André’s heart sank. They had traveled so far and for nothing! They would never get to see the flying machine! He remembered when he had first heard about the marvelous new invention. Uncle Gaston, who lived near Paris, came often to visit them on the farm. He had told them wonderful stories about experiments being done by men who thought it possible for humans to fly!

The Montgolfier brothers had discovered that if they lighted a fire beneath a paper or cloth bag, the bag would fill with hot air and rise into the atmosphere. They had already sent up several large flying machines, which were said to look like giant balls. Straw and wool burned in a container covered with a grate, and this was hung below the bag’s opening. In this way, the air inside the machine was kept hot.

In September Uncle Gaston had seen a Montgolfier machine sent up at the palace in Versailles. The king and queen had watched, along with Benjamin Franklin from the United States. That machine had even had three passengers—a duck, a rooster, and a sheep.

But today’s flight was to be the most exciting yet! Two men were going to fly in a basket attached to the machine! When he had heard about it, Grandpapa had insisted that his two grandsons go to Paris to witness the great event. “I’ll stay and tend to your chores,” he told them. “I am old, but you are young and have a whole lifetime to remember such a wonderful thing.”

Grandpapa had awakened André and Philippe early in the morning and sent them on their way down the road toward Paris. But now there would be no flying machine to see! All their plans and dreams with Grandpapa were for nothing!

The crowd along the bridge had grown so thick that it was impossible to keep from moving with it. They were inching toward the road that followed along the north bank of the river. André held tightly to Philippe’s hand as they were jostled along. He couldn’t understand why everyone was heading away from Paris. They seemed to be moving toward the chateau where the flying machine was to have begun its flight. Why did they want to go there now? The machine’s fabric was torn, and André knew it couldn’t fly with holes in it because the hot air would escape through the openings and the machine couldn’t leave the ground.

Suddenly an excited roar went up from the crowd. “Look! It’s been fixed! It’s going up!”

André watched in wonder as the enormous flying machine rose into view! Its slightly pointed top appeared first, pushing up from behind some rows of trees. The machine was much taller than their farmhouse and as big across. It looked like an oval blue and gold ornament painted against the clouds dotting the sky. Gold cloth was draped around the basket hanging from the balloon.

Most amazing of all, two men rode in the basket! They took off their hats and waved to the crowd. Another cheer went up.

The beautiful balloon floated higher and higher in the sky and made its way toward the crowded road. A gentle breeze lifted the machine higher. It passed directly over the boys’ heads and crossed the river behind them. They watched, hypnotized by the sight, as the two men flew toward Paris. Nearly half an hour later they could see the balloon slowly descend to the earth.

The crowd began to thin out. The boys headed toward the road that would take them home. André knew that he and Philippe had witnessed a miracle. Two men had flown into the heavens for the first time, and he and his brother had seen it!

He put his arm around the younger boy’s shoulder.

“Come on, Philippe. If we hurry, we can be home before the frost comes tonight. Grandpapa is waiting to hear about the new flying machine!”

Someone from Bountiful, Utah, originally called Sessions Settlement, told me I should read the diary of Perregrine Sessions. Anyone with a first name like Perregrine deserves attention!

On 18 September 1853, Perregrine Sessions wrote a story he had heard about Sarah Kirkman and her husband John.

"He had been slack about his prayers. After several evenings passed and he did not pray, she told him that something would happen. So she took a chain and put it under the bed with a string [attached] to it. After she had said her prayers and he in the bed laughing at her, telling her she could pray for both, she again told him something would happen. Directly after she was in bed she began to snore as though she was asleep. She then pulled the string and the chain began to rattle. John says, 'Sarah, Sarah, did you hear that?'

"'Why, what now? I told you something would happen. Hold your tongue and go to sleep and don't bother me. You would have heard nothing of it if you had said your prayers.' Directly she was asleep and the chain began to crink on the floor.

"He again calls, 'Sarah,' and began clinging to her. She began to push him away from her and told him to hold his noise and if he did not she would kick him out of bed. And directly she was asleep again and the chain began to jingle. He gets out of bed and kneels down and with his hair [standing] on its ends and says, 'Oh, Lord, if you will forgive me now, I will do better for time to come and not let the Devil have me. O Lord, have mercy on poor me!' This time, he began to cry for mercy, and once in a while the chain would rattle...

"At length he gets into bed and clings to Sarah and covers up head and ears. But he has not forgot[ten] to say his prayers since."

I learned that our Mormon pioneers had a sense of humor. A sense of humor helps keep us from being overcome by the cares of life. We do not make light of sacred things, but the ability to laugh at ourselves and find humor in everyday situations helps our mental health.

Not many weeks after the Church was organized, the Lord directed Emma Smith to “make a selection of sacred hymns, … which is pleasing unto me, to be had in my church” (Doctrine and Covenants 25:11). The Saints needed ways to learn newly revealed gospel truths and to unite in praising God. And hymns would be at the heart of their worship and learning.
Years ago, when my family joined the Church, my parents encouraged us to learn the music of our new faith. I have some vivid memories of that time:
Memorizing “Prayer Is the Soul’s Sincere Desire” (Hymns, no. 145) with my family.
Hearing “O My Father” (Hymns, no. 292) and learning that I have a Heavenly Father and Mother whom I can see again one day.
Feeling God’s love while singing “My Heavenly Father Loves Me” (Children’s Songbook, 228–29)—even though I lived in a desert and had never actually seen a lilac tree!
Fast forward to a sacrament meeting in late February 2020. Several members of our ward were dealing with cancer, and I felt deeply comforted when the ward choir sang “How Firm a Foundation” (Hymns, no. 85). A few weeks later, a series of unnerving events came along: quarantines, church cancellations, and a series of earthquakes and aftershocks. And that hymn started playing through my mind again:
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

And so, as resurrection and death and life are important to achieving perfection, so also is birth. And with the thought, my mind comes back again to Bethlehem, the Bethlehem of today. My wife and our group move about with the surging crowds, we are jostled and pushed. We are nearly drowned in the ocean of innumerable bodies and faces. It is hard to concentrate upon the sacred reason for our coming. There is little on the hill which can stir our reverence or satisfy our longing to be alone with our thoughts.
We have our taxi take us to the hill overlooking the shepherds’ field. Below us in the little valley is the field of Boaz and Ruth. Before us is the undulating area where shepherds once watched their sheep. On the brow of the hill is a cave opening out over the little valley. There, tradition says, the shepherds slept and watched on that eventful night. An open cave could protect them from the night’s coolness, yet still they could watch their flocks. There, gazing into the valley, the only place near Bethlehem where we could find privacy, we stood in the dark, looking out into the starry sky as did the shepherds.
Did not the angels sing that night? We, too, seemed to hear faint music, not loud, but in symphonic harmony it deeply penetrated our hearts. We seemed to hear singing in unison, the unforgettable melody, the cry of the ages: “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men” (Luke 2:14).
As the strains of the heavenly words merged with our hearts, we four sang. After singing “Far, far away on Judea’s plains, shepherds of old hear the joyous strains,” (Hymns No. 33) we stood close together in the starlighted night with our wraps pulled tightly about us—physically close, mentally close, spiritually close, emotionally close; and we communed. No lights but the twinkling lanterns in the heavens, no sound but the whispering of our subdued voices. Our Father seemed to be very near. His Son seemed close. We prayed. More in unison than a single voice, our four hearts poured out love and gratitude that rose to mingle with the prayers of all mankind that night.
We prayed our gratitude. We prayed our love. Like the raising of the flood gate releasing the long confined pent up waters behind a dam, voices almost inaudible, mellowed with reverence, softened by the intangible forces of the heavenly world, we sincerely gave a prayer of thanksgiving: grateful, Father, that we know so positively that thou dost live; that we know the babe born here was in reality thy Son; grateful that thy Church program is real, workable and exalting. We told him we knew him, we loved him, we would follow him. We repledged to his cause our lives, our all.