Gospel Story Finder

Illustration by Brad Teare
It was past her bedtime, but Mia wasn’t in bed. She was sitting on the floor of her room, thinking about something Sister Duval had read in Primary: “The time will come when no man or woman will be able to stand on borrowed light.”1
“A testimony is like a light inside of us,” Sister Duval had explained. “And each of needs one of our own. Then we can be strong when life is hard and Satan tempts us.”
Mia leaned her head against her bed. “I want a testimony that the gospel is true,” she thought. But how exactly did you get a testimony? She knew that praying was part of it.
“I’ll pray,” she decided. She would pray and wouldn’t stop until something happened to let her know the Church was true. She was ready to pray all night if she had to!
She got on her knees. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she whispered, “I want to know if the Church is true. I want to feel it in my heart and just know.”
Mia waited. She didn’t feel anything except for the soft feeling she usually felt when she prayed. What was she doing wrong? Where was her testimony?
She had been on her knees for what seemed like a long time when the door to her room opened a little and her dad peeked in.
“I saw the light under the door,” he said. “Are you up reading again?” Then he saw tears on Mia’s cheeks. He knelt down and put his arm around her. “What’s wrong?”
She was quiet for a minute. Then she asked, “Daddy, how do you get a testimony?”
Daddy hugged her tight. “That’s a good question. Wanting a testimony is one of the first steps.”
Mia felt the lump in her throat start to go away.
“Getting a testimony doesn’t usually happen with one prayer. And even when you have a testimony, you need to keep working on it.”
“But where does a testimony come from?” Mia asked.
“A testimony comes from the Holy Ghost,” Daddy said. “Have you ever felt warm and good during family home evening or at church?”
Mia thought about that. “When you gave me a special blessing before school started, I felt good.” She thought some more. “And I always feel warm inside when I hear President Monson talk in general conference. And when I’m nice to my friends or when I’m reading my scriptures, I feel good then too.”
Daddy smiled. “Those feelings are the Holy Ghost speaking to you. He gives you those feelings when you do something that’s right or when you hear something that’s true.”
“I feel warm and happy now,” Mia said. “Is that the Holy Ghost?”
Daddy hugged her again. “Yes. He’s telling you that the things we’re talking about are true. And that’s how you get a testimony.”
When Mia went to bed later, she didn’t think she had a whole testimony yet, but she still had that good, warm feeling that what Daddy told her was true. She knew this feeling was just the beginning.
Mia snuggled into her warm blanket and closed her eyes. Just before she drifted off to sleep, she whispered, “Thank Thee, Heavenly Father, for helping me have a testimony. And thank Thee for my daddy.”

There was a sister in my ward who was about to leave on mission. She knew the importance of temple work and started asking about information on my mom because she wanted to do the temple work for her. I kindly told her that I wanted to do it myself.
When I went to the missionary training center, with the help of my MTC president and his wife, President Lords and Sister Lords, I got to do the temple work for my parents and seal them together. I was so excited! Some people ask if I’m doing the right thing for my parents since they were not married. I want them to learn about the gospel where they are. Then, they can be happy forever. And after this life, I will be able to meet them again. That is something I look forward to.

A young couple lost all of their household belongings when flood waters filled their neighborhood. Volunteers dug mud and rocks out of their home. Food, clothing, and temporary shelter were provided; the Relief Society replaced many necessary household goods. Because of this service, an incredible bond of love developed between those who helped and those who received. The Relief Society president felt that one of the purposes of Relief Society—sustaining and supporting one another—had been realized.

Brother Obando Vindas, Area planning manager in the Frankfurt Area Office, said that the personnel department announced that young service missionaries were going to be called to service in Europe and some would serve in Europe Area offices.
A request was placed for a service missionary to help Area planning manage its statistical data. That is how Elder Ammon Hutchinson from the Merthyr Tydfil Stake, Wales became part of the team. He inquired about the scope of his assignment, and the tools and training available for him to be able to carry out his expected duties. He took online Excel training that prepared him for his service.
Elder Hutchinson has had various assignments over the last nine months, including working for the Europe Area offices. One project involves the data entry of statistical information, such as the number of members in Europe. He is finding it interesting to see the growth patterns throughout Europe, and how the Church has been changing over time. What has assisted him in the work for these projects is access to software and other types of training courses. He has learned so much from the courses and has been able to complete the tasks to a high standard and in a manner suited to his pace. He is grateful for the support he has received from Brother Vindas, with his insights and ability to improve the presentation of the data.
He has been a great help and a joyful person to work with! He continues to learn and to improve his skills; the next step is getting specific online training to allow interactive data analyses for managers and leaders in the area office.

After Hsiao-lung was baptized, she shared the excitement she found in the gospel with her friend Chu Chih-t’ao.
“Everyone in the Church was so friendly to me,” Chih-t’ao, 17, now a member of the Second Ward, said. “But in the beginning my faith wasn’t strong. I read the scriptures when the missionaries taught me, and I prayed. I received an answer from God that the Church is true, so I decided to be baptized. But it was after I joined the Church that my testimony really grew, thanks to help from other members who showed their love and concern. Now I have a very strong faith.”

Today we have modern Ruths and Josephs all over the world. When Brother Jimmy Olvera from Guayaquil, Ecuador, received his mission call, his family was struggling greatly. The day he was leaving, he was told that if he walked out the door, he would lose his family. With a broken heart he walked out that door. While he was on his mission, his mother asked him to stay longer in the field because they were receiving so many blessings. Today Brother Olvera serves as a stake patriarch.

As a young man, I grew up in a home of the greatest priesthood leader ever. He was my father. We grew up on a small farm in northern Utah. Dad understood that idle hands in his young sons was not good. So we raised crops, horses, cattle, pigs, chickens, and occasionally a bumb lamb. We had our early and late chores. We were required to schedule our time in order to make sure these chores were done before other more enjoyable activities. Dad was a hard worker and often can home late in the evening doing what he could to provide a living for his family. One late evening I remember Dad coming in, we exchanged hello’s and talked about my activities for the day. I then asked him where he had been, and he said, “oh son I was just feeding the horses.” Now as a young man, maybe 10 or 11 fears struck my heart. One of my chores was to actually feed the horses and now Dad, who came home late just checked up on me and did my work for me. I waited for Dad to leave the room then I ran out to the corrals to verify my work had been done, it was, I knew I had done my duty for the night. Now the dilemma, should I talk to Dad, ask him to explain, or just let it go. I decided to not say anything that night, he was tired, and the rest of the family were in bed. Through the night my mind would not let me sleep. I wondered what dad had done and why was he not telling me the truth. So right after breakfast I asked him what he meant because I had surly feed the horses the night before. He said, “oh son I understand, why don’t you read Alma 18 in the Book of Mormon”.
Here is what I found out. Ammon, one of the sons of Mosiah had just protected the flocks and herds of King Lamoni at the water of Cebus. He used the sling and the sword to ensure that the animals were able to drink. On their return back at home some of the servants with Ammon rushed to the King to share with them what had happened. They rehearsed the actions of Ammon and praised him. The king was astounded knowing that he was a man of great power and a “Great Spirit”. Then:
8…it came to pass that king Lamoni inquired of his servants, saying: Where is this man that has such great power?
9 And they said unto him: Behold, he is feeding thy horses. Now the king had commanded his servants, previous to the time of the watering of their flocks, that they should prepare his horses and chariots, and conduct him forth to the land of Nephi; for there had been a great feast appointed at the land of Nephi, by the father of Lamoni, who was king over all the land.
10 Now when king Lamoni heard that Ammon was preparing his horses and his chariots he was more astonished, because of the faithfulness of Ammon, saying: Surely there has not been any servant among all my servants that has been so faithful as this man; for even he doth remember all my commandments to execute them. [11]
So, there it was, I now had my answer from my father and I still had no idea what he was talking about. The next day in church I learned the truth. During fast and testimony meeting our neighbor an elderly man rose and spoke of a man who without any compensation and on his way home saw a neighbor in need. Dad had seen our neighbor working on the front axle of his tractor. Dad, a diesel and farm equipment mechanic, pulled into their shop and spent the next three hours making sure the tractor would be usable for the following Monday. I, a, young man then but to this day remember the spirit that I felt from that moment. I was so pleased with my Father and yet he took it in stride as his duty. Dad did not preach to us as children, but his personal sermons have lasted a lifetime. We can find examples in this life who can influence us to make the correct defining decisions.

One of the most challenging experiences of my life happened shortly after the passing of our 10-year-old daughter from brain cancer. The saying “You can’t take it with you” came with clarity as we looked around her room one Saturday afternoon.
Clarissa was gone, but her room still held the identifiable remnants of her earthly stay. We now had the daunting task of deciding what to do with her personal belongings. I knew that parting with a single item would not be easy, especially for my wife.
Dealing with the whirlwind of details associated with hospitals, chemotherapy, and radiation had left us little time to clean and organize.
Memories came as we packed up items she’d arranged on her headboard or bookshelf. They all held heartfelt meaning—from her favorite blanket, book, or necklace to her stuffed animals, schoolbooks, and football. My wife sobbed as we asked what to do with each item.
We gathered many of Clarissa’s books and took them to her elementary school for other children to enjoy. We gave her dresser to a neighbor. Some of her clothes went to cousins. Focusing on others helped make the difficult situation of parting with her things a little easier.

“I have to duck through almost every doorway in this house. It was built ten years ago, and Mom and Dad had no idea I would be this tall.”
The doorways cause problems when Shawn forgets to duck his head. He and Justin sometimes start wrestling and chasing each other as brothers will do. “When I get chasing Justin around, once in a while I’ll forget that I’m indoors,” says Shawn. “Then, bang! My head hits the doorway, and I’m flat on the floor. I almost knock myself unconscious.”
Shawn’s mother, Theresa, lists a few other adjustments they have had to make at home. “We had to extend the height of our mirror in the bathroom so Shawn can see. We’ve had to order him a 2.43-meter-long bed. He loves to come home after he’s been traveling with the basketball team and sleeping in hotel beds.”
“I have to sleep on the floor when I’m traveling,” says Shawn.
Friends and family are completely used to Shawn’s height, but they find it entertaining to go places with him and notice other people’s reactions.
“My family treats me horribly when we go to the stores,” Shawn says, in mock complaint. Justin and sisters Tasha, 15, and Adrianne, 9, just smile because they know what he is going to say next. “We’ll all be walking together, my family and friends, and I’ll look around and no one will be there. I turn around, and they are about six or eight meters behind me, watching everyone look at me. I’ll say, ‘Thanks a lot, guys.’”
His sister, Tasha, adds, “You can’t believe the looks he gets.”
Doesn’t he get tired of never being able to go anywhere without causing a sensation?
“Sometimes he gets tired of it, but he loves it,” says Corinne Pugmire, one of Shawn’s best friends from high school. “He wouldn’t exchange the experience for anything, and he’ll be the first one to tell you that.”
“I love being tall,” says Shawn. “I do get tired of people always looking at me and always saying things, but I try to represent myself in a good, upstanding manner for my faith and my family. I am what I am. I’m 2.26 meters tall, and nothing is going to change that. I have to deal with it and live with it. My family and my coach have taught me to look positively at things. Make the best of the situation is a slogan I live by. Look for the best in everything. That’s what I’ve tried to do so far in my life, and that’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.”
It’s the kind of attitude that would make anyone stand out in a crowd. Shawn gives a lot of credit for his positive outlook to his parents.
Theresa and Reiner Bradley met in a hospital. She was visiting a friend, and he was working his way through college as an orderly. When he walked into her friend’s hospital room, Theresa remembers thinking, “Wow, this guy is tall.” Standing 1.82-meters-tall herself, she was aware of height. Reiner is two meters tall. “He remembered my phone number when I gave it to my friend, and he called me,” says Theresa. They were married a year later. It was while the couple were stationed in Germany, fulfilling an obligation in the army, that Shawn was born. After finishing his schooling as a medical technologist, Reiner moved his young family back to Theresa’s hometown of Castle Dale, Utah. They wanted a small-town atmosphere for their children.
“I wanted my children to become well rounded,” says Theresa. “I wanted them to participate in lots of different activities so that when the time came for them to choose what they wanted to be in life, they’d have a good background. It’s happening. My kids are involved in almost too much. We have animals, and the kids can sort of learn how to work doing chores.”
“No ‘sort of’ about it,” Shawn interrupts. “We do chores. I like doing most chores, but the worst is in the middle of the winter when it’s snowing, and out in the corral it’s really messy. The milk cow is wet and dirty, and you have to go out and milk her at six o’clock in the morning when the temperature is below freezing. It’s got to be the worst chore in the world.”
Shawn may have to face the cow in the freezing barn some mornings alone, but in everything else his family offers encouragement and love. “We were there behind him to support him,” says Reiner, “not to push him. I don’t think he ever felt pressure to play in any sport.”
Shawn loves to play baseball and also played football during his junior high school years until he felt he couldn’t risk injury. He was on the high school golf team, although he’s quick to add that when they organized the eight-member team, only seven tried out. “They had to let me on.” He likes to horseback ride, rock climb, and water-ski with his friends.
“Reiner is very athletic,” says Theresa, “and so am I. When Shawn came home from the hospital, my husband put a basketball in the crib. That was the first thing Shawn saw.”
Shawn laughs and shrugs his shoulders, “I had no chance.”
“We knew quite early that Shawn would be good in basketball,” says Reiner. “I played ball with some men in the ward early mornings at the stake center. I asked Shawn if he would be interested in coming along. He went with me many mornings to the stake center and played with the adults when he was only eleven or twelve years old.”
Some time in his early teenage years, Shawn first beat his Dad in one-on-one basketball competition. “I don’t remember when it happened. When Dad would win, it would make me feel bad, so the next time, he’d let me beat him. I never really knew when I actually could beat him.”
But Shawn is not quite so kind to his younger brother, Justin. Would he like to beat his older brother? Justin answers very quickly, “Yes.”
Theresa says, “That’s Justin’s ultimate goal.”
Under his breath, Shawn mumbles, “It’s never going to happen. I’m not going to let him. When he beats me, he’ll know it.”
Of course, Shawn’s basketball prowess has not gone unnoticed. He has attracted national attention since he was in the ninth grade. His family’s ability to look for the positive really helped while college recruiters visited around Castle Dale trying to persuade Shawn to consider goint to their colleges. Shawn’s dad, Reiner, says, “We were told the recruiting process could become unpleasant. We sat down as a family and said, let’s not let it get that way. Let’s do this from a positive angle. Let’s enjoy it. It was an incredible experience, and the family enjoyed every minute of it.”
From the beginning of the recruitment process, one of Shawn’s requirements was stated clearly, and if schools would not agree, then there was no more discussion. Shawn told them that as soon as he turned nineteen years old, he would be taking two years off to serve a mission. That point was nonnegotiable. All the colleges that talked with Shawn agreed. His family supported Shawn’s decision as he selected a school. Theresa confesses to being delighted when her son chose to go to Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, just about a two-hour drive from home.
As many prospective missionaries do, Shawn has thought about some of the places he may serve a mission. “I’ll go anywhere,” says Shawn. His mother adds, “We’re hoping he’ll go to a country that feeds missionaries really well so he can gain weight.”
And that brings up the subject of food. Shawn is too skinny for his height. He weighs ninety-five kilos and is consciously working to put on weight. “I eat anything I can get my hands on,” Shawn explains. “It’s like a constant hunger. I can always eat. It’s really hard for me to gain weight.”
But serving a mission is more than living and eating in another place. It is teaching others about your deepest beliefs. Shawn has already had some experiences that have prepared him for teaching the gospel.
When Shawn was fifteen years old, he and a friend attended a national basketball training camp with 120 of the best high school players in the United States. A new friend talking with the two Utah players had some unusual misconceptions about Mormons.
“He asked me, ‘There are Mormons where you’re from, right? Do you see them? Do you live by them?’
“I answered him,” says Shawn. “‘Yes, we go to school with them. We see them all the time. Mormons are just like you and me. They are normal people. They look like us. They dress like us. They act like us. They talk like us.’
“He didn’t believe me until I said, ‘I can prove to you that Mormons are just normal people.’ He said, ‘How?’ I said, ‘We’re both Mormons.’ It really shook him up. A few days later, he started asking more about the Church and our ideals. He couldn’t believe we practiced chastity and that we wouldn’t drink alcohol or smoke. We had a very serious discussion for fifteen-year-olds.
“On that same trip was the first time I had ever had to tell the Joseph Smith story. I was asking myself, how much do I really know? I did not feel satisfied with myself at all explaining what I believe. I ended up bearing my testimony to him. That is the best missionary tool in the world. I just couldn’t find a way of explaining everything I knew. But I knew it was true. It was an excellent feeling to know something is really true.”
Shawn finds himself more and more often talking about the Church. Besides his television interviews with national press, he spends time speaking at firesides. His friend, Corinne Pugmire, says people can sense his testimony. “When he speaks, he never has to take something back that he said about the Church. You can tell that he is not making it up to impress people. He definitely has a strong testimony. He’s adamant about standing up for what he believes and not backing down one bit.”
Friends mean a lot to Shawn. He wants to be able to trust everybody, but he’s already met people who just want to take advantage of him. “Deep down I can sense their motives. I can tell when people want to know me for what I am, not who I am. I think it’s the Holy Ghost saying, ‘Be careful.’”
“People ask, is he conceited?” says Corinne. “He’s not at all. He’s very ordinary. He never gives you the feeling that he thinks he is better than anyone else. He’s always quick to say he’s sorry if he does something wrong.”
In his ward, Shawn’s bishop, Scott Johansen says, “He’s quiet, friendly, and very considerate of others. He goes out of his way to cheer others up. He would be an outstanding young man even if he were shorter than he is.”
When asked to think about someone Shawn has helped, his friend Bill Wright thought for a fraction of a second before answering, “He’s helped me. He’s incredibly caring. He puts everybody ahead of himself. My mother died two years ago, and he was the only one of my friends who came to her funeral. That has stuck with me. He was so caring and thought about me so much. He’s always there for me when I’m feeling bad.”
When asked what advice he would give to young people, Shawn says, “It bothers me when people don’t think well of themselves. They need to have high self-esteem. If I had advice for anyone anywhere, it would be that you have got to think of yourself as the Lord would think of you, as one of His children.” Maybe that’s part of Shawn’s secret, why he treats people with such kindness and courtesy.
And his ability to see the good side to things has something to do with his favorite scripture, 2 Nephi 2:11. “That’s the one that talks about opposition in all things,” says Shawn. “If something goes wrong, I say, well, there is opposition in all things. This is the opposition. You have to put it aside and go on.”
Shawn has learned how to take gospel truths into his life and let them guide his actions and decisions. It is in this way that he continues to grow.
Yes, Shawn Bradley is tall, and he is definitely someone to look up to.
Since this article was written, Shawn has received his mission call. He is now serving in the Australia Sydney mission.

Another entry by Elizabeth Huffaker, reflecting back, said:
I remember our first Christmas in the Valley. We all worked as usual. The men gathered sagebrush, and some plowed; for though it had snowed, the ground was still soft, and the plows were used nearly the entire day. We celebrated the day on the Sabbath (Christmas was on Saturday), when all gathered around the flagpole in the center of the Fort, and there we held a meeting. And what a meeting it was. We sang praises to God, we all joined in the evening prayer, and the speaking that day has always been remembered. . . .
. . . Many who were there for that first Christmas in the Valley later remarked that in the sense of perfect peace and good will, they never had a happier Christmas in all their lives. [Madsen, Christmas, p. 26]

Their Christmas spirit was really the peace, comfort, and sense of well-being they felt from a Heavenly Father who knew they had done their part, that they had given their all—literally—to the furthering of the kingdom on earth. He blessed them, not with material rewards, but with gifts of the Spirit.

Sister Carole M. Stephens, former First Counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency, illustrated this point when she told the story of her energetic three-year-old granddaughter, Chloe, who could not be convinced to keep her seat belt buckled in the car. Despite Sister Stephens’s genuine attempts to encourage her, Chloe kept unbuckling her belt and refused to stay properly secured in her seat.
Finally, after explaining to her granddaughter that the seat belt was for her own safety, Chloe’s face brightened, and she exclaimed, “Grandma, you want me to wear my seat belt because you love me!” 2 As Chloe eventually understood, rules often come from a place of love. Such is the case with God’s commandments.

55 years ago, two faithful missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, were where the Lord wanted them to be, and doing what the Lord wanted them to do, as they were tracting house to house in the Sandhills area of Wailuku, Maui. It was a hot day and in those days the missionaries did not have cars but walked everywhere.

Elders Dwight Flickenger and Michael Mickelson walked down our long driveway and knocked on our front door. My mother, Katherine Gima, was home and opened the door. Seeing the Elders, she quickly but politely stated that we were Christian and that she was not interested in hearing what they had to say. She had them wait on the porch as she went to get glasses of cold water to quench their thirst. My mother actually had 2 older sisters, Ethel and Lillian who had joined the Church on Oahu, so she had heard a little about the Church and knew that these were Mormon missionaries.

My brother and I were attending St. Anthony School, a Catholic school. We were not catholic but my parents felt like this school would give us a good education so we were enrolled there. In fact, my mother refused to join the Catholic Church because being the extremely practical person she was, she could not understand or accept their doctrine of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost being one person. How could 3 people be one being?

So as my mother took the empty glasses of water from the missionaries and was about to close the front door, one of them said, “Do you know that we believe that Heavenly Father and His son Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost are 3 separate beings?” Well, the front door opened widely and she invited them in. After that first discussion, the missionaries made an appointment to meet with my father and rest of the family, which consisted of myself being the eldest child and my brother Ron and younger sister Leona.

I remember that night quite well, as my mother kept us children in the kitchen as she prepared glasses of juice for us to take to the missionaries and our Dad. She held us back as she said, that Dad would probably ask them to leave in a few minutes. Well the minutes went by and she finally sent us out to see what was up. My Dad who was a quiet man, was chuckling and having a good old conversation with these two Elders as they were chatting about golfing. You see my Dad was an avid Sunday golfer and he had a whole trophy case full of trophies to show for all the golf tournaments he won. The missionaries had not even begun talking about the gospel but were talking about golfing!! Well a few months later, after hearing all the discussions, my father, mother and I being 9 years old, were baptized in Waiehu, Maui.

I will be eternally grateful to these two humble, faithful missionaries who taught my family the gospel, who listened to the prompting of the Holy Ghost as they stood on our front porch and said what the Lord wanted them to say concerning the Godhead. These missionaries have become lifelong friends and we share a strong bond of love for each other. Although Dwight Flickenger has passed away, we still keep in contact with Mike Mickelson.

Such a family was Oskar and Albertina Andersson, who became members of the Church in 1915. After World War II, Oskar, Albertina, and seven of their children who had married members made the heart-rending decision to sell all they owned and “travel to Zion.” From 1949 to 1950, 29 members of the Andersson family left Sweden. Oskar and Albertina left their home, three children, and four grandchildren, whom they would never see again. They arrived in a desert and a city where the people spoke a language they did not understand. But for these faithful members, being close to the temple was more important than anything else.
Members of the Andersson family have since served as missionaries and Church leaders in all parts of the world, including as an Area President in Africa and a temple president in Sweden.

The second example is from the life of Willard Bean, a remarkable man who became known as the “fighting parson.” In the spring of 1915, Willard and his new bride, Rebecca, were called by President Joseph F. Smith to serve a mission for “five years or longer” in Palmyra, New York (Vicki Bean Topliff, Willard Bean: “The Fighting Parson” [Huntington Beach, Calif.: n.p., 1989], p. 87; for the account of their life in Palmyra, see pp. 86–131). Their task was to occupy the recently acquired Joseph Smith home and farm and to reestablish the Church in the hostile environment which still existed at the time in Palmyra.
The Beans were rebuffed on every front as they settled into the Smith home. The townspeople would not speak to them or wait on them in their stores. Passersby would pause in front of the home and shout obscenities. Their children were assigned to sit in the back corners of the schoolroom and were shunned by the other children in class.
Willard, who was an accomplished athlete and had been a prize-winning boxer, decided to improve public relations by putting on a boxing exhibition in Palmyra. A ring was set up in an old opera house, and the “fighting parson” challenged all comers to a boxing match.
When the night of the exhibition arrived, the toughest men in Palmyra sat in the first few rows. One by one they entered the ring, only to be carried out again in a matter of seconds! This continued until the seventh challenger was similarly disposed.
Brother Bean’s fighting abilities were more spontaneously employed on another occasion as he walked along the unfriendly streets of Palmyra. A man watering his front lawn one afternoon suddenly turned the hose on Willard and taunted, “I understand you people believe in baptism by immersion.” The spry, athletic Willard reportedly vaulted over the fence separating them and replied, “Yes, and we also believe in the laying on of hands” (Willard Bean: “The Fighting Parson,” p. 14).
Although Brother Bean’s methods were a little unorthodox and definitely not compatible with the current approved missionary program of the Church, they were nonetheless effective. The people of Palmyra began begrudgingly to yield and to accept the Beans as the good people they were. In time, they were invited to participate in local churches and to join the civic organizations of the day. They established a branch of the Church and helped acquire the Hill Cumorah and the Martin Harris and Peter Whitmer farms. The “five years or longer” mission to which the prophet had called them stretched to nearly twenty-five years before it concluded. During that time, the attitude of the people of Palmyra had changed from hostility toward the Beans to toleration, then admiration, and finally to love. The power of good lives is truly great.

A good example of weathering this trial of faith is Yolanda Cantos of the Tolosa Branch, Tolosa Philippines District, on the island of Leyte. In 1985, when Yolanda was 22 years old, she visited relatives on Samar, a neighboring island. Her relatives invited her to listen to the missionary discussions. She agreed, but because she was a devout member of another church her real intention was to challenge the missionaries. “I knew they were wrong,” she says. She listened, though, and despite her intentions, she says, “the Spirit worked with me, and I couldn’t find any fault in their teachings.” Fearing that they were misleading her, she returned home to Tolosa. But when she prayed, she couldn’t forget what the missionaries had taught her, so she returned to Samar to continue the discussions.
“I was challenged twice to be baptized,” she says. “I knew the Church was true, but it was hard for me because of my family and friends. They belonged to another church, and I was a member of the choir. But when I went to witness the baptism of a friend, I heard a voice asking me why I had rejected Him so many times. And when I saw my friend immersed in the water, it was as if I saw myself being baptized. After that I told the missionaries that, no matter what happened, I wanted to be baptized.”
Her baptism took place a week later. When her mother learned of it, she wouldn’t allow Yolanda in her home anymore. She said if Yolanda would deny her new faith, then she would be welcome again. Yolanda assured her mother that someday she would understand her choice. Then she returned to Samar to live with her relatives and to fast and pray for her family. One month later her brother was baptized, and a year later her mother joined the Church. “It was through fasting and prayer,” explains Yolanda.
The path to the Lord’s Church wasn’t easy, but the rewards have been well worth the trial of faith Yolanda endured. She was married in the Manila Philippines Temple in 1993; her husband, Felix, a returned missionary, is president of the Tolosa Branch; and they have two sons, Jed Ephraim and Russell Jacob.

As an illustration of the need to follow the counsel of priesthood leaders, I’d like to tell you about two elders serving in Moncton, New Brunswick. Moncton was a cold place, both weather-wise and also in terms of the success these two particular elders were having. They called me very discouraged after a particularly long stretch of rejection. I suggested they consider proselyting in the near countryside where hopefully the people would be a little friendlier.

The next day the elders drove out, parked their car, and spent the day going door to door, without any success. When they came back just after dark to their car, they discovered that it had been vandalized: some one had taken a “cow pie” and smeared it all across their car’s windshield, doors, and windows. The afternoon sun had caused it to melt through the cracks of the doors, where it had then frozen in place.

That night I received an even more discouraged phone call from these elders. The senior companion, Elder Cooper, was very disheartened, and felt the full brunt of rejection. He wondered out loud over the phone whether he was worthy to be a zone leader, if they should be transferred, or if he should just give up and go home. He just couldn’t see that they were accomplishing anything, and felt the intense opposition of Satan. I spoke with him for a while, and as his priesthood leader I suggested that they find the other elders across town and ask for a priesthood blessing and that he and his companion recommit themselves to the work. We talked about how difficult things had been but how important it was that they carry on.

These elders did not know it at the time, but this was a pivotal point in their missions. Nothing changed in the next few weeks; they chose to carry on, faithful to their calling and in accordance with the commitments that they had chosen to accept when they became fulltime missionaries. They received their priesthood leader’s invitation, obeyed, and moved ahead, choosing to stay focused on preaching the Gospel with love. To me, it was most important that they be obedient and faithful and continue to work hard. Later in their lives, this strength of character and commitment has led to successes in their careers and families. They now serve with distinction in their families, wards, and communities. Their success then and their success now come from following their priesthood leaders.

Several years ago, the Salt Lake City newspapers published an obituary notice of a close friend of mine—a mother and wife taken by death in the prime of her life. I visited the mortuary and joined a large number of persons gathered to express condolences to the distraught husband and motherless children. Suddenly the smallest child, Kelly, recognized me and took my hand in hers. “Come with me,” she said; and she led me to the casket in which rested the body of her beloved mother. “I’m not crying, Brother Monson, and neither must you. My mommy told me many times about death and life with Heavenly Father. I belong to my mommy and my daddy. We’ll all be together again.”

Through tear-moistened eyes, I recognized a beautiful and faith-filled smile. To my young friend, whose tiny hand clasped mine, there would never be a hopeless dawn. Sustained by her unfailing testimony, knowing that life continues beyond the grave, she, her father, her brothers, her sisters, and indeed all who share this knowledge of divine truth, can declare to the world: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.” (Ps. 30:5.)

Tracy sat very still. She was almost five, but it was very hard to sit quietly. Today was supposed to have been a special day. Tracy and her mother had planned to go to the zoo! They had been all ready to go when the phone rang. Mother had answered and had listened for a long time before she finally said good-bye. She was crying when she turned to Tracy and said, “Honey, I need to talk to you.”
Now Tracy and Mother were visiting Sister Abbot, and Sister Abbot was crying. Tracy’s mother said, “Sister Abbot, I know how hard it must be for you. I’ll be happy to listen if you want to talk, or to help in any other way that I can.”
Sister Abbot put her arm around her three-year-old son, Jimmy, and cried harder. She hardly seemed to have heard Tracy’s mother.
Tracy watched, feeling uncomfortable. She knew that her mother was a visiting teacher and that Sister Abbot was one of the women whom she visited each month. Earlier Mother had told Tracy that Jimmy’s brother, Alan, had died that morning. Tracy knew about dying. Her cousin, Marnie, had been hit by a car last year, and she had died two weeks later. Tracy had cried and cried. Mother had told her that this life was only part of Heavenly Father’s wonderful plan. Tracy remembered that she had wanted to be with Marnie again right then, but her mother had explained that we all have to wait until the right time.
As Tracy thought about this, Sister Abbot said, “Why would God want to punish me so? First my husband, now my son.” She began to cry even harder.
Then Tracy spoke. At first no one heard her, so she spoke a little louder. “He loves me,” she said.
“What?” Sister Abbot asked, between sobs.
“He loves me,” Tracy repeated, looking at Sister Abbot.
“Who loves you, child?” Sister Abbot said, looking confused.
“Heavenly Father,” Tracy replied.
Sister Abbot looked puzzled, so Tracy tried to explain. “My cousin Marnie died last year, and Mommy told me that death isn’t forever. Heavenly Father loves me, so He let Jesus die so that we could all live again and be with Him.”
Sister Abbot still looked puzzled, so Tracy tried again. “He must love me very much to let His Son die so that we can all be together.”
Tracy looked at her mother. Her mother smiled at her with tears in her eyes. Sister Abbot had stopped crying and seemed more calm. She hugged Tracy and her mother before they went home.
The next Sunday, in testimony meeting, Sister Abbot went up to the pulpit and told everybody how grateful she was for a visit from a little girl who knew that her Heavenly Father loved her.

For the next appointment I was to meet the elders at their home. I was late and had not read the pamphlet nor the few pages in the Book of Mormon they had asked me to before our meeting. When I got to their home, no one was there. I sat on the porch and waited a few minutes. Then it began to pour down rain. I thought that instead of going home and getting soaked I could wait and see if the elders made it back.
While waiting I decided to read in the Book of Mormon about Christ visiting America. I read of cities being destroyed and of the calamities and suffering. I was captivated with the story and I had to keep reading. Soon I got to the part about God introducing his son. I could not believe what I was reading. The words were so powerful, yet they brought peace to my soul. I believed them. I knew that book contained the word of God. I knew it was true!

For 14-year-old Tien Pham and his four young traveling companions—none of whom could swim—this was not your average back pack and river outing. Tien, his scratched and aching arms draped over a gallon plastic bottle, was trying to cross the Mekong River in Laos, far upstream from his Vietnam homeland. He was literally holding on for dear life.
Tien’s Vietnamese family was living in Laos, where his father had been a diplomat. When the South Vietnamese government fell from power, so did Tien’s father. And the government in Laos was unfriendly to the South Vietnamese now, too.
Life became very difficult very fast. Tien’s family had lived in a large home with many maids. His father had a private helicopter and many business connections in foreign countries. Their home was taken over by the new government, and the family was forcibly moved. Suddenly poor and without employment, they walked to another part of Laos.
Tien’s father knew that there was no future for Tien in Laos. Tien would not be allowed to go to school after the eighth grade without government approval. There would be no approval because of his father’s position with the previous government. In addition, he would not be able to find employment because the government was the only employer. For these and other reasons, Tien and his companions decided to take a hike, so to speak, to freedom in Thailand.
The group of boys packed no food or provisions. They did not wish to raise the suspicions of officials as they left town. The journey to the Thai border could have been made in a day under normal circumstances but it took three days for Tien and his friends. They traveled only by night to avoid detection by military patrols. In the daytime, they slept in trees and remained quiet. They lived on bananas and wild fruits as they meandered through a jungle shared with occasional snakes and panthers and a constant supply of insects. The boys, all between 10 and 14 years of age, had already zigzagged through 30 miles of Laotian jungles when they reached their biggest obstacle: the Mekong River.
The Mekong River is the Mississippi of Southeast Asia. It flows for over 2,000 miles through China, Thailand, Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam before it nourishes the Mekong Delta near Saigon and empties into the South China Sea. On the other side of the Mekong, about a half-mile wide at this spot, Tien and his companions could at least see Thailand through the moonlight. It was almost morning. The boys, although afraid to cross, reasoned that they would be killed anyway if they were found by patrols in the morning, and they decided to make the attempt.
While walking along the river, they found the help they needed. Tien and a friend found a pair of plastic bottles discarded near the river. The other boys found plastic sacks. With the floating aids, they thought they had a chance for a successful crossing. Tien and his friend hugged their bottles and waded into the water. With similar hopes, the other boys paddled out into the swift current clutching inflated plastic garbage bags. The water level was high from late summer rains.
As two of the makeshift floats snagged on branches and debris in the river, the plastic easily split and the bags deflated. Without floating aids, Tien’s nonswimming friends first struggled and finally drowned in the murky Mekong water. Tien and the others, unable to come to their aid, could only look on with horror and helplessness. Due to the swift current and their lack of swimming skills, it took Tien and the others three long, exhausting hours to reach the other side. Widely separated during that time, the boys managed to find each other. They had reached the western bank sobered but not shattered; after resting, they pressed on.