Gospel Story Finder

I was born in Australia and lived in the community of Byron Bay, located on the eastern seacoast. I remember the great ships that used to sail up the coast of Australia. Very often they would come into port at Byron Bay. During storms, though, the ships would have to sail out to sea again to avoid getting smashed against the rocky beaches or wooden piers.
When I was about seven or eight years old, I had an experience that had a tremendous impact on me. My father came rushing into the house very late one night. Outside, there was a blinding rainstorm, and a very large ship was struggling to get out to the open sea. Its crew members had been celebrating in town and had delayed returning to the ship to prepare it properly for sailing. As a result, it didn’t have enough steam to sail out of port and away from danger.
My parents bundled my brother, sister, and me up in our oilskin coats, and we went down to the harbor to watch the crew frantically trying to sail to safety. The sea was rough. The waves were high. Hundreds of townspeople awakened from their sleep and gathered on the shore to watch and pray that the ship would get away.
I remember that there were many lights on the ship as it tossed on the waves. We knew that dozens of crew members were in the hold, shoveling coal into the engine’s furnaces, trying to get up enough steam to sail to safety. It was an awesome and frightening sight to a little boy.
Suddenly a cheer burst from the crowd. The ship was clear of the pier, and we watched as her bow turned seaward. It looked as though she would make it to the open sea. She went for a short distance. Then, because she didn’t have sufficient steam, she lost the struggle. The waves beat too heavily against her, and that great ship swung around, raced straight up onto the beach, and crashed against the rocks. She never sailed again.
I’ve never forgotten that night. It’s as vivid in my memory today as it was when it happened so many years ago. I believe that I am a General Authority today because of the lesson I learned that night—to prepare myself so that I can head in the proper direction with sufficient strength.
When storms come and waves beat against us, we’ll be dashed against the rocks if we don’t have sufficient faith in the Lord, in the gospel, and in our own abilities. We need to learn the gospel and to learn to love the Lord. Then we will have all the steam we need, and we will know the right course to sail in this life.

Bishop Monson recalled how he helped an elderly couple who needed to paint their home: “In a moment of inspiration I called, not upon the elders quorum or upon volunteers to wield paint brushes, but rather, following the welfare handbook, upon the family members who lived in other areas. Four sons-in-law and four daughters took brushes in hand and participated in the project.”2 This inspiration helped the family reconnect and better care for each other.

William Clayton was the official camp historian. To help direct those who would follow, he and others kept careful records of the camp’s travel. In order to calculate the distance traveled each day, he tied a piece of red flannel to a wagon-wheel spoke and walked beside the wagon, counting the times the wheel turned. This was a tiresome task, and he proposed the idea for a mile counter. Orson Pratt suggested a design for the machine, and William Clayton and Appleton Harmon constructed it. This device, called an odometer, counted 10 miles, then started over. This made William’s job much easier.

Sometimes I have been assigned to interview people who earlier made mistakes that led to the loss of their priesthood and temple blessings, and now they want to come back into full church fellowship and reclaim their blessings. In these very tender conversations, I often ask, "What motivated your desire to come back?" Most of the answers are variations on a central theme. That theme was illustrated by one man who had been working as a lonely sheepherder after being separated by his wrong choices from his family. He said he'd sit alone and look into his campfire each night, thinking about his wife and his children. He would say to himself, over and over, "I want to be with my family, eternally, more than I want anything else." That powerful vision of his Family Future gave him the courage and strength to repent and return.

Obviously, the Brethren have had a great anxiety and concern about this problem for a long period of time, and President Spencer W. Kimball has been exercised and has sought the Lord in faith. When we seek the Lord on a matter, with sufficient faith and devotion, he gives us an answer. You will recall that the Book of Mormon teaches that if the Apostles in Jerusalem had asked the Lord, he would have told them about the Nephites. But they didn’t ask, and they didn’t manifest that faith; and they didn’t get an answer. One underlying reason for what happened to us is that the Brethren asked in faith; they petitioned and desired and wanted an answer—President Kimball in particular. And the other underlying principle is that in the eternal providences of the Lord, the time had come for extending the gospel to a race and a culture to whom it had previously been denied, at least as far as all of its blessings are concerned. So it was a matter of faith and righteousness and seeking on the one hand, and it was a matter of the divine timetable on the other hand. The time had arrived when the gospel, with all its blessings and obligations, should go to the Negro.

Well, in that setting, on the first day of June in this year, 1978, the First Presidency and the Twelve, after full discussion of the proposition and all the premises and principles that are involved, importuned the Lord for a revelation. President Kimball was mouth, and he prayed with great faith and great fervor; this was one of those occasions when an inspired prayer was offered. You know the Doctrine and Covenants statement, that if we pray by the power of the Spirit we will receive answers to our prayers and it will be given us what we shall ask (see D&C 50:30). It was given President Kimball what he should ask. He prayed by the power of the Spirit, and there was perfect unity, total and complete harmony, between the Presidency and the Twelve on the issue involved.

And when President Kimball finished his prayer, the Lord gave a revelation by the power of the Holy Ghost. Revelation primarily comes by the power of the Holy Ghost. Always that member of the Godhead is involved. But most revelations, from the beginning to now, have come in that way. There have been revelations given in various ways on other occasions. The Father and the Son appeared in the Sacred Grove. Moroni, an angel from heaven, came relative to instructing the Prophet in the affairs that were destined to occur in this dispensation. There have been visions, notably the vision of the degrees of glory. There may be an infinite number of ways that God can ordain that revelations come. But, primarily, revelation comes by the power of the Holy Ghost. The principle is set forth in the Doctrine and Covenants, section 68, that whatever the elders of the Church speak, when moved upon by the power of the Holy Ghost, shall be scripture, shall be the mind and will and voice of the Lord.

On this occasion, because of the importuning and the faith, and because the hour and the time had arrived, the Lord in his providences poured out the Holy Ghost upon the First Presidency and the Twelve in a miraculous and marvelous manner, beyond anything that any then present had ever experienced. The revelation came to the president of the Church; it also came to each individual present. There were ten members of the Council of the Twelve and three of the First Presidency there assembled. The result was that President Kimball knew, and each one of us knew, independent of any other person, by direct and personal revelation to us, that the time had now come to extend the gospel and all its blessings and all its obligations, including the priesthood and the blessings of the house of the Lord, to those of every nation, culture, and race, including the black race. There was no question whatsoever as to what happened or as to the word and message that came.

The revelation came to the president of the Church and, in harmony with Church government, was announced by him; the announcement was made eight days later over the signature of the First Presidency. But in this instance, in addition to the revelation coming to the man who would announce it to the Church and to the world, and who was sustained as the mouthpiece of God on earth, the revelation came to every member of the body that I have named. They all knew it in the temple.

In my judgment this was done by the Lord in this way because it was a revelation of such tremendous significance and import; one which would reverse the whole direction of the Church, procedurally and administratively; one which would affect the living and the dead; one which would affect the total relationship that we have with the world; one, I say, of such significance that the Lord wanted independent witnesses who could bear record that the thing had happened.

Now if President Kimball had received the revelation and had asked for a sustaining vote, obviously he would have received it and the revelation would have been announced. But the Lord chose this other course, in my judgment, because of the tremendous import and the eternal significance of what was being revealed. This affects our missionary work and all of our preaching to the world. This affects our genealogical research and all of our temple ordinances. This affects what is going on in the spirit world, because the gospel is preached in the spirit world preparatory to men’s receiving the vicarious ordinances which make them heirs to salvation and exaltation. This is a revelation of tremendous significance.

The vision of the degrees of glory begins by saying, “Hear, O ye heavens, and give ear, O earth” (D&C 76:1). In other words, in that revelation the Lord was announcing truth to heaven and to earth because those principles of salvation operate on both sides of the veil; and salvation is administered to an extent here to men, and it is administered to another extent in the spirit world. We correlate and combine our activities and do certain things for the salvation of men while we are in mortality, and then certain things are done for the salvation of men while they are in the spirit world awaiting the day of the Resurrection.

Well, once again a revelation was given that affects this sphere of activity and the sphere that is to come. And so it had tremendous significance; the eternal import was such that it came in the way it did. The Lord could have sent messengers from the other side to deliver it, but he did not. He gave the revelation by the power of the Holy Ghost. Latter-day Saints have a complex: many of them desire to magnify and build upon what has occurred, and they delight to think of miraculous things. And maybe some of them would like to believe that the Lord himself was there, or that the Prophet Joseph Smith came to deliver the revelation (see Time, 7 August 1978, p. 55), which was one of the possibilities. Well, these things did not happen. The stories that go around to the contrary are not factual or realistic or true, and you as teachers in the Church Educational System will be in a position to explain and to tell your students that this thing came by the power of the Holy Ghost, and that all the Brethren involved, the thirteen who were present, are independent personal witnesses of the truth and divinity of what occurred.

There is no way to describe in language what is involved. This cannot be done. You are familiar with Book of Mormon references where the account says that no tongue could tell and no pen could write what was involved in the experience and that it had to be felt by the power of the Spirit. This was one of those occasions. To carnal people who do not understand the operating of the Holy Spirit of God upon the souls of man, this may sound like gibberish or jargon or uncertainty or ambiguity; but to those who are enlightened by the power of the Spirit and who have themselves felt its power, it will have a ring of veracity and truth, and they will know of its verity. I cannot describe in words what happened; I can only say that it happened and that it can be known and understood only by the feeling that can come into the heart of man. You cannot describe a testimony to someone. No one can really know what a testimony is—the feeling and the joy and the rejoicing and the happiness that comes into the heart of man when he gets one—except another person who has received a testimony. Some things can be known only by revelation, “The things of God knoweth no man, but the Spirit of God” (1 Corinthians 2:11).

This is a brief explanation of what was involved in this new revelation. I think I can add that it is one of the signs of the times. It is something that had to occur before the Second Coming. It was something that was mandatory and imperative in order to enable us to fulfill all of the revelations that are involved, in order to spread the gospel in the way that the scriptures say it must spread before the Lord comes, in order for all of the blessings to come to all of the people, according to the promises. It is one of the signs of the times. This revelation which came on the first day of June was reaffirmed by the spirit of inspiration one week later on June 8, when the Brethren approved the document that was to be announced to the world. And then it was reaffirmed the next day, on Friday, June 9, with all of the General Authorities present in the temple, that is, all who were available. All received the assurance and witness and confirmation by the power of the Spirit that what had occurred was the mind, the will, the intent, and the purpose of the Lord.

If I go over what happened a hundred times, I still can’t make any sense out of it.
Look, it was this normal weekend night in the city, and Mother was planning my Sabbath. (We are all supposed to call it the “Sabbath,” or “Church Day.”) The Sabbath, she reminded me, was the next day.
“Now tomorrow afternoon after church,” she was saying, “Brother Matthew wants you to be available for home teaching. Fortunately for you, all your home teaching families are within walking distance from our house. Your father has no end of trouble getting across the city to see his families all in one afternoon.”
I would not have to ask whether our families would let us in the door. Years ago, some of the families would have slammed their door in our faces, and left me with the afternoon free. But since the city church leaders’ activation efforts, everyone is super nice now. They are all more than happy to see me and talk the day away!
But I had no intention of going home teaching the next day. Or even going to church, for that matter.
“Oh, Mother, …” I began, knowing full well how this conversation would end. Pleading to get one Sabbath free never seemed to work with my parents. “Oh, Mother, …” I began again, “you know I have 100 percent attendance at all my meetings, but just this once, just this one Church Day, I want to do something on my own, in place of church …”
“In place of church?” Her eyes widened. I knew that I was pushing a lost cause, but I kept right on babbling. I have a bad habit of that.
“Yes, in place of church! You know how you are always telling us to get out and enjoy God’s world, so I want to go out with my friend Sam on the lake tomorrow. He just built a new boat, and the lake is just a little way from the city …”
I was going to end my request with something about “communing with God’s world right out in nature,” but one look at my mother told me that, even with the theological ending, my argument was not going to get a fair hearing.
“Going boating! On the Sabbath day! Now, what was it we were just discussing in our last family home evening?”
I groaned. The last family home evening had been on keeping the Sabbath day holy. They had asked me to prepare the lesson, and evidently I had been especially convincing.
I tried a different tack. “Now, Mother, you don’t believe Heavenly Father is going to send me straight to hell just because I miss one church meeting, do you?”
Her face softened just a bit. But only just a bit. “I believe Heavenly Father wants to give you as many blessings as he possible can. But if you don’t keep the commandments, you may miss some important blessings that he wants you to have.”
Like being bored, I thought. Well, there’s more than one way to skin a cat. I knew through painful experience that outright defiance would get me nowhere. The last time I tried that I wound up with my mother crying all night while I had to listen to my father give me a lecture on a son’s responsibility to listen to his parents. No, this controversy had to be handled with stealth and guile.
The next morning I got up bright and early and dressed in my best. Both Mother and Father were pleased; they usually had to drag me out of bed. I put on my most innocent expression and told them that I was going to attend church on the other side of the city, so I might be back a little late. They gave me a big smile and kissed me good-bye. I almost felt guilty.
The rest, of course, was pretty simple. As soon as I got clear of the city and down by the lake, I stashed my good clothes in the bushes, having worn my fishing cutoffs underneath. I had a great day with Sam on the lake, communing with nature.
At sundown I started back to the city. I didn’t think I would have any trouble convincing my parents I had been engaged in healthy church activities the entire day. They were so full of goodness that they seldom even suspected anything less in others.
But when I got to the main highway that’s supposed to lead right into the city I didn’t see any city lights. That’s odd, I said to myself. But I just kept running down the road. The road came to an end, and still, no city.
I mean, there was just an empty field. Now, how could the whole city of Enoch just disappear?
Then I heard a voice behind me saying, “You were not supposed to be here today.”
I turned around and there stood a man in white. He looked at me for a long time and then said, “You were not supposed to be here today. Your city has been taken up, and your parents are not in it.”
I remember standing there, stunned, while he went on to explain that the city had been translated because the people were so righteous, and only those who had gone with it were with my parents.
I asked him how I was supposed to get there, but he told me it was too late.
Then he said, “If you had been where you were supposed to be, you would have been with them.”
I could only stand there and cry. I had missed the city of Enoch because I wanted to go boating on the Sabbath day.

I have visited with a woman who received the miracle of sufficient strength to endure unimaginable losses with just the simple capacity to repeat endlessly the words “I know that my Redeemer lives.” That faith and those words of testimony were still there in the mist that obscured but did not erase memories of her childhood.
I was stunned to learn that another woman had forgiven a person who had wronged her for years. I was surprised and asked her why she had chosen to forgive and forget so many years of spiteful abuse.
She said quietly, “It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but I just knew I had to do it. So I did.” Her faith that the Savior would forgive her if she forgave others prepared her with a feeling of peace and hope as she faced death just months after she had forgiven her unrepentant adversary.
She asked me, “When I get there, how will it be in heaven?”
And I said, “I know just from what I have seen of your capacity to exercise faith and to forgive that it will be a wonderful homecoming for you.”

What are some of the best ways to gain a better understanding of someone else’s faith? You could go to official online sources, and that’s pretty good. But if you only search online, that won’t always give you the whole picture. When it comes to really understanding a faith, you can learn a lot by talking to the people who practice it.
And that’s just what some young people in California, USA, are doing.
The mission statement of the Interfaith Youth Council of Orange County (IYCOC) says their goal is to help youth “come together to promote respect, understanding, and appreciation for the integrity of each other’s beliefs, cultures, and traditions.” One way it does this is by hosting an annual Faith Forum and Festival.
Last year’s festival was held on a beautiful Sunday afternoon near the grounds of the Newport Beach California Temple. Over 150 youth from more than a dozen different faiths were able to take a tour of the temple grounds and ask questions about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Missionaries from the California Irvine Mission served as tour guides. They fielded questions from the youth about the basic beliefs of the Church and about the temple. These youth were seeking greater understanding of Latter-day Saints’ faith, and they knew this was a great way to get it.
“It’s better to understand other people’s faiths and not just think of them the way you think they are,” said Mohammed, a Muslim. “You need to actually know what their religion is.”
Nazee, a Zoroastrian, agreed. “These interfaith events bring people together and promote respect and understanding for all religions. I want to reach out to more people to help them to learn about other faiths.”
After the tour, the youth met in a nearby stake center to talk about and share their beliefs. Youth from various faiths were seated at tables together. They asked each other about their traditions and beliefs, their struggles in practicing their faith, and how their faith affects their views of current social issues.
As the youth expressed their beliefs, the conversations became more open. Latter-day Saint youth were able to share their feelings about being sealed together as families for eternity in temples, helping and serving others, why we emphasize the full name of the Church, and even what it’s like walking for miles and miles on a pioneer trek.
In the same discussions, youth of other faiths shared their own beliefs, values, and challenges. One young man of the Sikh faith said he has to live his faith stronger since he is no longer in India surrounded by others of his faith. A Jewish young man expressed the challenge of keeping the Sabbath day holy in today’s society. A young woman shared what it’s like to be one of only three students of her faith at her school.
Some from other countries remembered the joy of celebrating their traditions back home and how it’s different in America, where they’re not as widely celebrated. Others expressed hope that someday there wouldn’t be so many negative stereotypes about their faith.
Representatives of various religions from the youth council stood at the front of the meeting and lit an electric candle as they stated their hope about religion.
“I light this candle in hopes of peace and unity,” Mohammed said.
“I light this candle to support faith education,” Lizzie, a Hindu, said.
“My hope is that we can all find respect for each other that we didn’t have before,” Jessie, a Protestant, said.
Daniel C., who served as the vice president of the interfaith youth council, represented The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and said he hopes “that we can find similarities between our faiths.”
All youth participants took a moment of silence in unity and respect for each other.
“We want there to be more respect and less alienation,” Daniel said. He has attended many “house of worship” tours with the council over the last few years, visiting places such as the local Jain Center, Sikh Center, Buddhist Temple, Islamic institution, and Zoroastrian Center.
“I have much more respect now that I have made friends with people of other faiths and have seen what’s important to them,” Daniel said. “I learned that all religions are rooted in the values of doing good to others and serving your fellowmen. Most religions have beliefs similar to the Golden Rule.”
Daniel’s friends who have participated on the interfaith youth council expressed similar understandings and desires. Raj, of the Sikh faith, said, “I think that these experiences have shown us a lot of the similarities between our faiths, and as a result of that, it’s comforting to see that people are feeling the same way you do.”
“At the end of the day, everyone wants peace, unity,” Mohammed said. “No one wants terrorism; no one wants to hurt others. They just want to have a good society and a good community.”
Learning about different faiths and cultures helped him get rid of misconceptions, Raj said. “There’s so much more to it than what I previously thought. I want to reach out to more people for them to learn about other faiths as well.”
Paige M., one of the Latter-day Saint participants, said, “I think if we can join together with other religions and realize our commonalities instead of our differences, then we can help protect religious freedom and be able to come to understand what everyone else is talking about, gaining a respect for what they believe.”
Understanding, respect, friendship, and love. These are things that people of all faiths strive for. And when we strive for them together, it can be a very powerful thing.

Exactly 20 years ago last fall I stood on the famous white cliffs of Dover overlooking the English Channel, the very channel which 20 years before that ran as the only barrier between Hitler and England’s fall. In 1962 my mission was concluding, and I was concerned. My future seemed very dim and difficult. My parents were then serving a mission also, which meant I was going home to live I-did-not-quite-know-where and to pay my way I-did-not-quite-know-how. I had completed only one year of college, and I had no idea what to major in or where to seek my career. I knew I needed three more years for a baccalaureate degree and had the vague awareness that graduate school of some kind inevitably loomed up behind that.
I knew tuitions were high and jobs were scarce. And I knew there was an alarmingly wider war spreading in Southeast Asia, which could require my military service. I hoped to marry but wondered when—or if—that could be, at least under all these circumstances. My educational hopes seemed like a never-ending path into the unknown, and I had hardly begun.
So before heading home I stood one last time on the cliffs of the country I had come to love so much.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle, …
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war.
(William Shakespeare, Richard II, act 2, sc. 1, lines 40, 43–44)
And there I read again,
“We have before us many, many long months of struggle and of suffering. … What is our aim? … Victory—victory at all costs; victory in spite of all terror; victory, however long and hard the road may be. …
“Conquer we must; as conquer we shall. … We shall never surrender.”
Blood? Toil? Tears? Sweat? Well, I figured I had as much of these as anyone, so I headed home to try. I was, in the parlance of the day, determined to give it “my best shot,” however feeble that might prove to be. I ask you to do the same.

As a new member of the Church, I was taught the importance of gathering family records. I began immediately to keep a journal and research my genealogy. I was surprised and pleased that my parents supported my efforts and showed interest in their heritage. I began to ask them questions about their parents and grandparents.
My father was 71 years old at the time, and his memory of dates and ages wasn’t always accurate. But I learned a lot about his childhood and life experiences. When he passed away two years later, I was so grateful that I had asked him about his life! The little bit of information I received from him was so precious because I was able to research his family’s information and prepare their names for temple work.
With the help of other family members, I also searched for family records. My mother seemed pleased to hear about our heritage, and I believe it softened her heart toward me following my baptism.

Throughout the years as an adult, dad, and Young Men’s leader, I have been part of and witnessed new adventures. One such adventure was a 54-mile white water rafting trip. This trip was my oldest son (Kaden’s) second and my youngest son (Gage’s) first. As you can imagine, they both showed different levels of excitement and courage. On the afternoon of day two and the morning of day three, we encountered a few obstacles.

The first new obstacle for Gage was the largest rapid on the river. Although this rapid is relatively short compared to the total length of the entire trip, it seemed to pass slowly for him. It may be hard to see in the picture, but we have just passed between two larger rocks and if you look closely, you may see the fearful look in his face. After passing between the two rocks, Gage was, for a time, a little uncertain. By the time we reached the middle of the rapid, the water creates waves you ride out. Once on the waves and with a little encouragement from me that we had made it through the hardest part, I could see him relax. He once again regained his courage because he had experienced similar waves before on the previous day. As we had finished the rapid, he then had his courage and exclaimed, “Success! I am still in the boat.” After experiencing this rapid, he did not fear the remainder of the trip.

Without question, those progressing eternally are those on the straight and narrow; they are spiritual and charitable. A bishop in the Dominican Republic exemplifies such a life. After sacrament meeting in his ward, a new convert approached him and said, “Bishop, I notice that the members are always looking at books when they sing. I want to do that. They look at books in Sunday School class. I want to do that.” Quietly the brother said, “Bishop, I want to be a good member. I want to do all the Lord’s work. But I can’t read. Is there someone who can teach me?”
“Yes,” said the bishop. And then he tried to think of a likely tutor. He found himself saying, “I’ll teach you to read.”
For many months this new convert and his wife met weekly with the bishop. They learned to read using the scriptures. Now this was a busy bishop, like they all are. He could have delegated the responsibility, but the Spirit had prompted him to take the assignment. They became friends in the gospel as they studied together. After two years, the bishop was released and a new bishop called. Sustained to follow him as the leader of the ward was his student of the scriptures. This bishop set out to teach his friends how to read the gospel message, and in the process, he showed them how to live it. Could this bishop have seen the end when he began? How often do we follow the dictums of the Lord and in doing so influence eternity?

An evening of sharing that emphasized the similarities in people and helped to create a better understanding of the differences was sponsored by the Monument Park Third Ward, Salt Lake Foothill Stake, last November. Several weeks of planning and preparation resulted in a lively carnival and dance for 65 handicapped persons from the Salt Lake Work Activity Center.
The youth leaders of the priest and Laurel groups, Tom Green and Kay Nilson, visited the center to get acquainted with the adults and to gain some insight into what they could and could not do. After that, Tom and Kay reported to the ward Young Men-Young Women committee their observations and ideas. Then plans were made, committees were formed, and in addition, each Mutual class was given responsibility to plan and construct one carnival booth.
The night of the party, the cultural hall took on a festive, carnival atmosphere, with brightly colored, hand-lettered signs announcing the events. A long line soon formed at the bowling area, as everyone seemed to want to try his hand at knocking down the pins. The relay race consisted of participants, many of them in wheelchairs, throwing footballs through suspended hoops. Other events included a beanbag toss, fish pond, tennis ball toss, and a beauty parlor. Another popular booth was the hammer-and-nail drive where participants hammered a nail into a wooden plank. The highlight of the evening, however, was the dance. The young people earned the money to pay for a live band by making the desserts for an elders quorum party. Once the music started, everyone joined in the dancing, including those in wheelchairs, who were assisted by the young people.
A rewarding part of the evening was to see the excitement the handicapped persons exhibited when they won a prize, the pride they felt at being successful. Nancy Straider, the adviser from the center who accompanied them, said, “This has been such a wonderful experience for them! Some who are really reluctant to participate and who are usually afraid of strangers are getting involved tonight and having a great time.”
Each young person was assigned to be a special companion to one of the guests, and they really took the assignment seriously, seeing that their guests had an enjoyable time. By the time the last booth was taken down and the final cup of punch finished, all agreed it had been an evening of sharing that will be long remembered by those who participated.

I met the missionaries when I was 17. At that time my older brother and I lived together. Our mother had passed away the year before, and life was difficult. When the missionaries taught me, I could see that this Church was the church I had always sought. But the influence of my friends prevented me from going to church on Sundays.
One time I went to a Church activity during the week. Seeing all the young people laughing and playing brought me great joy. The missionaries, with the youth, took that opportunity to teach me a gospel lesson, and I felt so good I resolved to be baptized.
But even after I joined the Church, I faced challenges. I was the only member of the Church in that part of town and lived far away from the meetinghouse. My nonmember friends no longer wanted anything to do with me. When I felt alone, I prayed and felt the love of the Lord.
Each month, I received a small allotment of money from a fund my mother left. It was difficult to sustain myself with so little money. But I determined to be obedient. I paid tithing and also had to pay for transportation to seminary and Sunday meetings. I didn’t understand how, but at the end of the month, I found that there had been enough money to do it all.
I know that I have been blessed by paying tithing. Obeying this commandment helped me gain a stronger testimony, serve a mission, and recognize blessings so I can strengthen new members who are facing challenges.

One day when I was riding home from school on the bus, my friend started talking about the person sitting next to me. She said that because he wasn’t a member of our church, she did not like him. I told her that it’s OK that he’s not a member of our church and that he’s still a good person.
When I got home, I talked with my mother about what had happened. She suggested that I call him and apologize for the way my friend had acted. He wasn’t home, so I talked with his mother, instead. Later, I saw him with some friends playing basketball with our basketball hoop. When I walked outside, his friends thought I was coming to tell them that they had to leave. He said, “She won’t say that. She’s nice. She apologized for the way her friend acted.” I felt very good inside for choosing the right.
Chelsea Michele Bryant, age 8Midway, Utah

When I was young, I had an experience that helped me relate to the blind man described in John 9.
I was 11 years old when the “works of God were made manifest” in me. In the fifth grade, I developed warts on my hands. Both hands were covered with the ugly virus sufficiently enough to earn me the nickname “warthog” among my classmates. Needless to say, it affected my self-esteem and social life.
When my family moved from Utah to Idaho the following summer, I dreaded the thought of going to a new school. In my old class, I took plenty of teasing, but I also had two good friends who stood by me. This new place offered no such assurance.
I began to search for ways to rid myself of my burden. With my mother’s help, we tried over-the-counter remedies and even some home remedies, but the warts remained. Money was limited, so seeing the doctor for such a nonemergency was out of the question. I began feeling like there would be no end to this malady.
Towards the end of summer, it occurred to me to ask Heavenly Father for help. My family had been active in the Church for about two years, and I had been taught about the power of fasting accompanied by prayer, but I had never before taken the opportunity to do this.
Over two weeks I fasted every few days. I remember how hard it was to pass up my mom’s homemade cherry pie, but I believed the outcome of my fast would be equal to my faith and sacrifice. I prayed earnestly in our backyard, where I could speak aloud and not be interrupted. At the end of the two-week period, my warts were gone. Every one of them had shrunk away.
When school started a couple of weeks later, I felt a new confidence. This confidence came, in part, from having healed hands that I did not have to hide, but more so from an internal seed that had sprouted to life.
I had gained personal knowledge of a great truth—that I was a daughter of Heavenly Father, the true and living God. I knew that He loved me and that He heard and answered my prayers. Just as the man in the scriptures, the works of God had been made manifest in me, on a physical and a spiritual level.

President James E. Faust was deeply moved when he visited the route of the handcart pioneers. These are some of his thoughts.
In celebration of July 24th several years ago, I joined the Saints of the Riverton Wyoming Stake. … The youth and youth leaders of that stake reenacted part of the handcart trek which took place in 1856. We … went first to Independence Rock, where we picked up the Mormon Trail. We saw Devil’s Gate a few miles up the road. Our souls were subdued [quieted] when we arrived at the hallowed ground of Martin’s Cove, the site where the Martin Handcart Company, freezing and starving, waited for the rescue wagons to come from Salt Lake City. Numerous members of the Martin Handcart Company perished there from hunger and cold.
It was an emotional experience to see the Sweetwater River crossing, where many of the 500 members of the company were carried across the icy river by several brave young men.
We went farther along the trail where members of the Willie Handcart Company were rescued. We felt that we were standing on holy ground. Many members of that party died from starvation and cold there. We continued to travel up over Rocky Ridge, 7,300 feet (2200 m) high. … It was very difficult for all of the pioneers to travel over Rocky Ridge. It was particularly agonizing for the members of the Willie Handcart Company, who struggled over that ridge in the fall of 1856 in a blizzard. Many had worn-out shoes, and the sharp rocks caused their feet to bleed, leaving a trail of blood in the snow. …
We went on to Rock Creek Hollow, where the Willie Handcart Company made camp. Thirteen members of the Willie Company who perished from cold, exhaustion, and starvation are buried in a common grave at Rock Creek Hollow. Two additional members who died during the night are buried nearby. Two of those buried at Rock Creek Hollow were heroic children of tender years: Bodil Mortinsen, age nine, from Denmark, and James Kirkwood, age eleven, from Scotland.
Bodil apparently was assigned to care for some small children as they crossed Rocky Ridge. When they arrived at camp, she must have been sent to gather firewood. She was found frozen to death, leaning against the wheel of her handcart, clutching sagebrush.
Let me tell you of James Kirkwood. James was from Glasgow, Scotland. On the trip west, James was accompanied by his widowed mother and three brothers, one of whom, Thomas, was nineteen and crippled and had to ride in the handcart. James’s primary responsibility on the trek was to care for his little four-year-old brother, Joseph, while his mother and oldest brother, Robert, pulled the cart. As they climbed Rocky Ridge, it was snowing and there was a bitter cold wind blowing. It took the whole company twenty-seven hours to travel fifteen miles (24 k). When little Joseph became too weary to walk, James, the older brother, had no choice but to carry him. Left behind the main group, James and Joseph made their way slowly to camp. When the two finally arrived at the fireside, James, “having so faithfully carried out his task, collapsed and died from exposure and over-exertion. …”
I have wondered why these [courageous] pioneers had to pay for their faith with such a terrible price in agony and suffering. Why were not the elements tempered to spare them … ? I believe their lives were consecrated to a higher purpose through their suffering. Their love for the Savior was burned deep in their souls and into the souls of their children and their children’s children. …
Francis Webster, a member of the Martin Company, stated, “Everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities [greatest suffering].” I hope that this priceless legacy of faith left by the pioneers will inspire all of us to more fully participate in the Lord’s work of bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of His children.
(See Ensign, July 2002, pages 2–5.)

SGS: As my husband mentioned, we were in Australia on 9/11. We were attending a mission presidents’ seminar, and most of the attendees were U.S. citizens. When word was received of the tragedy, the thoughts of everyone there turned first to their own families and then to the many people from all over the world at Ground Zero; the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.; and that hallowed field in Pennsylvania. The schedule of the meetings we were attending was modified, and everyone attempted first to check on the safety of loved ones and then gathered around television sets to watch the events of the day unfold.

Through the miracle of the Internet and the ingenuity of one of the Area Office personnel, we were able to hear the quickly arranged special broadcast from the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City. The music of the Tabernacle Choir was soothing, and the remarks and assurances from President Hinckley were comforting to us all.

Because it would have been impossible to travel home immediately, even had we wished to do so, we were able to complete the seminar and then spend a delightful day in the beautiful city of Sydney. We enjoyed the sights we visited but were especially touched by the people we saw. We observed long rows of Australians lining up before their public buildings to sign condolence books for their American friends and loved ones. We saw hastily crafted signs placed in store windows expressing sympathy for those who had suffered or lost their lives, and we saw people connecting with each other in loving, remarkable, and, we thought, atypical ways. Total strangers were courteous and expressed sentiments of compassion and concern to each other.

On our flight from Sydney to San Francisco several days later, we saw people not previously acquainted connecting with one another in sensitivity and kindness. The tragedy had identified for almost everyone an increased appreciation for each other and for the land of America. Seemingly this had nothing to do with politics or even nationality, but it had much to do with appreciation for the blessings of “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” (see Declaration of Independence) we experience and too often underappreciate.

In addition to temples, surely another holy place on earth ought to be our homes. The feelings of holiness in my home prepared me for feelings of holiness in the temple. Before I went on my first mission to Brazil, my mother lovingly hand made a piece of temple clothing for me to wear when I went to the temple. It is now old and frayed, but it is a special, sacred symbol of Mother’s love for that which is holy.

Illustration by Ben Simonsen
I felt the hot tears of anger slowly slide down my face. I wiped them away with my hand, but I could still feel the slightly salty taste on my lips as sobs of anguish began to pour out. I just wanted to hang out with my brother. Why couldn’t he be my friend, too?
Just a few hours before, I had stared at my older brother, Steve, in complete surprise, waiting for him to tell me that he was only joking. “Well, do you want to play?” Steve asked impatiently.
I gave myself a quick pinch to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, and then I voiced a timid, “Yeah, sure.” I still couldn’t believe that my brother had invited me to play a game with the “big kids”! After all, I’d been told for three years that I was still too young to play more difficult board games with my brother and his friends.
I went into the room where the older boys were setting up the board game. As the game started with everyone strategically placing their game pieces, I felt like I was dreaming. For the first time, I felt equal to my brother—not like I was just his tagalong.
The dream ended quickly, however. The game was tough, and my inexperience and lack of knowledge became painfully obvious as the other players quickly and soundly defeated me.
Losing so quickly was bad enough, but to make matters worse, the other guys started to make fun of me. I tried to continue playing even though they were being mean, but it was hard to hold back my tears of frustration. Unfortunately, one tear trickled down my cheek before I could wipe it away. My brother saw it and teased me too. I couldn’t take it anymore and ran to my room.
So there I was, crying by myself, wondering why my brother couldn’t just be my friend. I went to sleep that night feeling sad and alone.
The next morning I woke up still feeling worthless. I decided to get dressed and climb the hill behind our house to a secluded place where I could think and be alone. But when I got to the door of my bedroom, I noticed that a piece of paper had been slipped below my door. Unfolding it, I read:
Dear David,
I would like to ask for your forgiveness for the way I acted last night. I was more interested in winning than in helping you figure out the game. As it turned out, I did end up winning the game, but if you had been a few years older and had just a little more experience, you would have easily won. Next time we play, I’ll try to teach you a few pointers that might be helpful. Again, I ask for forgiveness and wish you better luck next time. You’re really an exceptional player for your age.
Love, Steve
True to his word, Steve did help me with some strategy ideas during the next game. He was also very careful not to hurt my feelings. In fact, I noticed that Steve began to take a greater interest in me. That’s not to say that he suddenly became my best friend, but he gave me more encouragement and became more willing to listen when I told him about things that were important to me.
Neither of us ever mentioned the letter or the change that occurred in our relationship. I guess it’s just one of those things that guys don’t talk about much. I kept Steve’s letter, but it wasn’t until I began reading the Old Testament that I understood why I had become so attached to it. I was struck by Genesis 4:9, which reads, “And the Lord said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother’s keeper?”
I realized that my brother had been faced with the same question but had given a much different response from Cain. The letter is a wonderful reminder to me that I am blessed with a brother who answered, “Yes, I am my brother’s keeper.”