Gospel Story Finder

“The Lord could not have put it more clearly when he said, ‘Why call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things which I say?’” (Luke 6:46).
Brother Murray’s talk suddenly pushed through my thoughts of the Civil War and tomorrow’s geometry test.
“For decades He has been telling us to prepare our families for self-sufficiency by putting aside a year’s supply of necessities. We have been counseled to produce as much of our own food as possible. But how many of us are really prepared for any emergency the future might bring?”
Thinking of my frequent errands to the supermarket for mom, I looked along the bench. Mom and dad’s faces were serious. Fourteen-year-old Greg looked deep in thought. Even 11-year-old Corey and Carrie were listening. We all probably had the same thoughts. With six of us in the family, it seemed that food started disappearing as soon as a grocery bag entered the house. Live off our storage for a year? We didn’t even have a month’s supply of most things!
But what could I do—16-year-old Joyce Brown? No part-time job was allowed because my parents didn’t want me distracted from schoolwork and Church activities. My allowance of $5 a week covered lunches, school supplies, and assorted small miscellaneous expenses. And, with the junior prom a month away, I’d been saving all my baby-sitting money for a new dress. I couldn’t think of a single contribution I could make to a storage program for the Brown family.
“Church leaders haven’t prescribed a storage system that fits everyone,” Brother Murray went on. “Each of you, each family using free agency has to prepare in its own way. The important thing is to start! Don’t put it off any longer. If you wait until you can buy a year’s supply all at once, you may still be waiting when the chance for preparation has slipped away.”
Brother Murray’s words bounced around in my head. “The important thing is to start!” “Prepare in your own way.” “Start!”
Opening my hymnbook for the closing song, I vowed that this message would not be hidden away in my mind to be dealt with on a distant, vague someday.
At dinner I mentioned Brother Murray’s talk.
“It was a good reminder,” dad said. “We should start putting something aside for the future.”
“When?” I asked.
“Soon,” he said and finished spooning gravy onto his mashed potatoes. “I think Mr. Blanchard is going to come through with that raise within a couple of months. Then we’ll really have some funds to work with. Please pass the salt, Greg.”
“Brother Murray said we shouldn’t wait until we could start in a big way. We should just make sure we start.”
Mom passed the green beans to me. “It takes extra money to buy extra food, Joyce. Of course, being prepared is important, but—”
She didn’t finish because Corey spilled his water while reaching for a slice of bread.
I just couldn’t push family preparedness from my mind. “The important thing is to start! Start!” But how?
Tuesday after school, mom asked me to go to the store for her. “We’re having spaghetti tonight. I need a can of tomato sauce.”
It’s amazing, but the twins can hear the car keys jingle all the way upstairs in their bedrooms.
“Where are you going, Joyce?” Corey asked, bursting into the kitchen.
Carrie was right behind him. “We want to go,” she said when I disclosed my destination.
“I’m starving,” Corey moaned. “Can I buy a fruit pie to tide me over till supper?”
“Me, too?”
Mom smiled. “It’s quite a while till soup’s on. Go ahead. You can have something, too, Joyce.” When we got home, I handed the bag to mom.
“Joyce, I only need one can of tomato sauce.
You’ve got three in here!”
I smiled at the twins.
“It’s for storage,” Carrie explained.
“Joyce convinced us to give up fruit pies for extra tomato sauce.” Corey was looking in the refrigerator. “We’ll have a jam sandwich instead.”
With a puzzled look, mom put the extra cans on the shelf.
Friday was payday. That meant allowances for everyone. As dad handed me my $5 bill, mom said, “You just might have enough for your prom dress now.”
Dad grinned. “My princess is growing up.”
“Oh, dad!” I smiled.
That evening I spent some time going over my clothes. When I finally pulled out my best go-to-school-dances dress, it didn’t look as bad as I’d thought. In fact, Saturday, when Mom took me shopping for a prom dress, I just couldn’t find anything to top the dress that was already hanging in my closet.
After a stop at the market, we went home.
Dad was in the kitchen. “All right,” he smiled. “Let’s see that dreamy prom dress you picked out.”
I laughed because dreamy is dad’s idea of teenage language. He uses it when he wants to show he’s not old-fashioned. I carefully tipped my grocery sack over and let the contents slide onto the table: 3 large bags of pinto beans, 2 bags of rice, and a box of powdered milk!
Dad just stared for a few seconds. “A very interesting prom dress,” he finally said.
“I decided I’d rather add to our storage instead of buying a new dress,” I explained. “My old one is dreamy enough!”
Dad glanced at mom, but she just gave him her don’t-ask-me shrug. She said, “Find a place for all that stuff.”
I finally fit my storage contribution into the bottom of a corner cupboard. At least it would be undisturbed, unless someone wanted to risk a sprained back getting it out again.
Thursday, after I had maneuvered an extra jar of peanut butter into the storage corner, I unkinked my back, had a brilliant idea, and went to find Greg. He was practicing foul shots on our old basketball hoop in front of the garage.
“Greg, I have this idea. Will you help me?”
He bounced the ball a couple of times. “Sorry, Joyce, I’m busy.”
“Not now, I mean tomorrow afternoon.”
“I have a million things to do,” he said, making a basket.
“Nice shot,” I beamed, deciding not to beg. “I can understand your obligations. Just tell me where I can find the hammer and nails.”
“Hammer?”
“And some nails,” I said with a smile.
“You’re going to hammer?” He looked very surprised when I nodded. “Just what are you making?”
“That’s what I was going to get your help with,” I said, starting toward the house. “I know you’ve been doing some carpentry in Careers Ed. I was going to put some of that skill to work.”
“Since you put it that way, I’ll do it, Joyce,” Greg said, following me. “I can make time. I mean, if you really need a carpenter, how can I turn you down?”
After dinner I found dad reading the paper in his favorite chair.
“Dad?”
“Hmmmmm?”
“Greg and I are going to use some of that lumber stacked behind the garage. Okay?”
He didn’t look up. “Sure, honey,” he said without even asking why.
I have to admit, Greg’s carpentry skills surprised me. He had shelves built in half of my closet before dad got home from work on Friday. I was so proud of Greg’s work that I dragged both mom and dad in to show off our storage shelves. The beans, rice, dried milk, peanut butter, and two cans of tomato sauce looked a little lonely, but it would get more crowded as time went on. At least I wouldn’t have to strain and stretch to get things under the kitchen cupboard.
Mom and dad smiled at each other.
“What a perfect arrangement,” dad teased. “If Joyce is going to buy food instead of clothes, it’s only logical to reserve half of her closet for food.”
The next week mom bought a few extra sale items each time she went to the store. Greg gave up a record album and a new sweatband so he could add three cans of honey to the shelves. Even the twins added a jar of jam apiece by giving up ice cream cones.
After a few more weeks, the little bit that appeared on our storage shelves started to really look like something. It was still a little something, but something just the same.
By then, warm spring days were here, and I knew there was one more thing that Joyce Brown could do to help with the family preparedness. One Monday right after school, I got the trusty shovel from the garage and began turning over the far corner of our backyard. Years ago that area was set aside as a garden spot, but something always came up to prevent us from using it.
Greg came out to play basketball, stopped, then sauntered down to me.
“Looking for gold?” he grinned.
“Better than gold,” I puffed. “I’m going to plant a garden.”
“A garden? you’ve got to be kidding!”
“Nope.”
“What do you know about gardening, Farmer John, or should I say Farmer Joyce?” He was smiling, but at least he didn’t laugh.
“Not much,” I admitted, “but I can read, and the library is full of books about raising vegetables.”
He took the shovel from me. “We just might make it … if we team up! Farmer Joyce and Gardener Greg!”
We had a pretty good-sized section turned over when dad drove in. He sat in the car watching us for a long time. Finally he walked over.
“Don’t tell me,” he sighed. “A garden, right?”
We both grinned and nodded.
“Just what the storage program needs!” Greg panted and jumped on the shovel again.
Dad went in while we worked awhile longer.
After supper, dad announced, “Special lesson for family home evening, or maybe I should say, emergency meeting!”
Emergency meeting? It was all very mysterious, so we got settled in the living room very quickly.
“First of all,” dad started, “your mother and I appreciate the special effort all of you have been giving to a storage program. Joyce and the twins showed real initiative in getting it started.”
The twins beamed at each other.
“Then Greg used his talents to help the project along. Now, if you kids could use some more partners, your mother and I would like to join in.”
Everyone agreed unanimously.
“It looks like the next step is a garden. Joyce and Greg have already started turning the ground in the corner of the yard. I say, let’s all help them and make this an organized Brown family project! Now, I really don’t know too much about gardening—”
Corey interrupted, “Carrie and I can stop by the library after school tomorrow. I’m sure they have tons of books on gardens.”
“That’s a good idea,” mom said. “I’ll find that book on food preservation that Aunt Norma gave us a few years ago so we’ll know what to do when all those lovely vegetables start rolling in.”
For the next few minutes everyone juggled for a time to share their ideas about this family food project. Then dad looked at mom, and she smiled some encouragement.
“You all know how we enjoy a pretty nice family vacation each summer,” he said. “We’ve made some special memories while traveling around visiting new places.”
We all nodded.
“Well … your mother and I thought … that maybe the family would like to think about taking some of the vacation money we’ve saved to really get the Brown family preparedness program heading in the right direction.” Dad looked at us uncomfortably. “You know, plan what we’ll need for a year’s supply, keep track of inventory, build a real storage area—things like that.”
All of us just looked at dad.
“We could take one-day-trips and really explore the area close to home.”
The room was quiet.
Finally I said, “We’re quiet not because we don’t want to give up our vacation but because we think it’s a great idea!”
Greg grinned. “In fact, it’s weird, because Joyce and I talked about the same plan while we were working outside, and then we talked to the twins before dinner.”
“We were worried about what you two would say,” Corey added with a smile.
“We know how much you enjoy those vacations,” Carrie said.
Mom and dad looked at each other and then at the four of us. I think there were tears in their eyes.
Dad smiled. “Even with that money, we will still be working at this preparation business slowly, a little at a time. We won’t be able to get ready all at once, but the important thing is to start!”

I will never forget the experience I had when I was called to serve as the Stake President of the Mesa Arizona Maricopa Stake. Elder Lawrence, the visiting Authority, invited my wife and me into the stake president's office and extended the calling, and I dutifully accepted. He then invited us to enter the High Council Room and to prayerfully consider people to recommend as my counselors. As I entered the High Council Room, I looked up at the north wall and there I saw the pictures of all the stake presidents who had previously served in the Maricopa Stake since it was organized, and my heart sunk.

The first six pictures were of men I had never known. They lived before my time. But I knew their names. They were great leaders both in the Church and in the community. The next five pictures were of men that I did know - Lorenzo Wright, to whom I had delivered newspapers as a boy, his son Harold Wright who later served as a mission president and a temple president, President J. Lamar Shelley, President W. Dea Montague, and President David K. Udall - great men whom I had sustained and revered all my like. I looked at my wife and said, "Kathleen, I don't think I can do this. I'm not in their league. My picture doesn't deserve to hang next to theirs." She said, "Well, don't tell me about it. You better talk to Elder Lawrence." Which I did.

I rehearsed my experience to Elder Lawrence thinking that he would try to reassure me that I could do it, that I had served as a Bishop and a counselor in the Stake Presidency, that I would have the support of the stake members and that I would be a fine stake president. But, to my surprise, when I told him that I didn't think I could do it, he responded, "Well, I suppose you're right." And I wondered who might be next on his list. But then he said, "You can't do it, Brother Andersen, but the Lord can. He has the power to do His work, and if you will be worthy and work hard, He will do it. You will see." And He did.

While touring the New England Mission in May 1960 accompanied by his wife Camilla, Elder Spencer W. Kimball taught much to many. One day is particularly memorable.
Elder Kimball had requested and been permitted to take time to do some genealogical research on the actual location of the birthplace of his grandfather, Heber C. Kimball. While it had generally been concluded that Heber C. Kimball was born in Sheldon, Vermont, Elder Kimball wanted conclusive proof. He also wanted to check for other genealogical information.
Searching stores on the main street of St. Albans for helpful maps and checking records in the city halls of St. Albans and Sheldon, he received mainly general information that confirmed what he already knew. And so, early the next morning, he visited the cemetery. The dew was heavy, but presented no obstacle to his moving about among the headstones looking for Kimball names. When finding any, he would sparkle with joy and record the information in his notebook.
Imagine his influence on me as I watched him and Sister Kimball poring over record books and relating any information they found to that which they already had. I sensed a feeling of fulfillment in the Kimballs in their being able to spend this time in the area from which Elder Kimball’s illustrious grandfather had come.
In order not to lose the chance to teach and train, Elder and Sister Kimball ended this most unusual day in meeting with the Saints in Barre, not far from Sharon. Sister Kimball instructed ninety sisters and Elder Kimball provided over forty brethren with priesthood leadership training. Concluding the visit with a district meeting of the Saints from all parts of Vermont, Elder Kimball issued the Saints the challenge to double their membership by the end of the year.
Teaching. Always teaching!

I remember two simple events that happened when I was a little girl. Each shows how the Spirit touches hearts in special ways no matter our age.
The first experience happened when my brother was sick. My father called a man from our ward to come to our home and help give a priesthood blessing. As our family gathered before the blessing, the man suggested that we children should leave because we might disrupt the spirit of the blessing. My father replied gently that it was important that each child be present during the blessing because our pure faith was needed. Even at that young age, I not only felt the presence of the Spirit, but I also sensed the great love my father had for his children. My father’s love helped me believe in and understand Heavenly Father’s love for me.
A few years later, our family participated in sacrament meeting. My mother was a gifted musician. However, she gave my sisters and me the opportunity to sing instead of her. I clearly remember the song she was inspired to have us sing:
I think when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among men,
How He called little children like lambs to His fold;
I should like to have been with Him then.
(“I Think When I Read That Sweet Story,” Children’s Songbook, 56)
As my sisters and I sang the song, I felt warm and happy inside. My tender testimony was strengthened as the Holy Ghost helped me feel that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ loved me.
How grateful I am for the blessing of the Holy Ghost and the love of my parents and my Father in Heaven.

Except for a few cries from toddlers, everything was quiet. I stared forward and waited for the sacrament tray to make it to the end of the row so that I could pass it to the next row. I wondered how long it would take before it would reach me and I could continue on with my duty.
As I waited, a thought my priesthood leader had shared came to my mind: “During the sacrament you should be thinking about the Savior,” he had said.
I tried to follow his advice, but my thoughts soon switched to something that had recently happened to me. Giving up, I passed the tray to the next row and began waiting and wondering again.
Then I heard a soft voice behind me. I listened and realized that it was a girl speaking to her little brother. The girl said, “Do you know what the bread and the water mean?” The brother answered, “No.” They were silent for a moment. Then I heard, “They represent the body and blood of Christ.”
Immediately after she said that, my heart filled with the Spirit, and my thoughts didn’t drift anymore from the meaning of the sacrament. I will never forget that small reminder from a young girl and her brother.

During the summer, the children often went swimming in the river. A wooden pier came out partway on the deep side of the swimming hole. Those of us who couldn’t swim well would enter the water from the shallow side and play there. One time I thought that I could make it out to the pier. I was wrong. I got out to where I couldn’t touch bottom and started floundering. I remember feeling a hand lifting me up. It may have been one of the older kids, but I can still feel that hand lifting me, and I think that Somebody was watching over me.

Consider the message in this experience I had with my father.
“I had stopped crying,” I told my children, “but my pillow was still wet when my dad came into my room. He knelt by my bed. It was then I saw that he had been crying, too.
“‘I’m sorry,’ my dad said. ‘I guess I forget that you’re still a little boy. I want you to take good care of your dog, but I shouldn’t have yelled at you like I did. Can you forgive me, Son?’
“‘Sure, Dad,’ I answered.
“He gave me a big hug. We were both crying.”
From the look in my kids’ eyes, I knew they understood what I was trying to tell them.

When I started my first job following Graduate School, I was hired as a caseworker at the Youth Services Center in St. Anthony, Idaho, which served as the State institution for incarcerated delinquents. I was assigned to work at the cottage which housed the older youth on the campus. When introducing me to the inmates, the psychologist pronounced, “This is Mr. Miyasaki. He has a black belt in karate, so no one mess with him.” I didn’t quite know how to respond, so I didn’t and the legend began. By the way, the only black belt I had was used to hold my pants up. However, rumors flew, and I quite enjoyed the instant respect and fear. Then one night I was called to come in as there was a fight in the dorm. We decided that we needed to place one of the boys in lock-up until the situation cooled down. As I escorting this young man to the lock up room, we first entered a small locked cubicle that was a safety area between the hallway and the lock up room, with just barely enough room to have two people standing together. In these crowded quarters this young man challenged, “Okay, Mr. Miyasaki, let’s see what you got. It’s just you and me.”

A quick twinge of fear of exposing my lack of martial arts skill arose, but I quickly countered with, “Oh, you don’t want to do that because I going to plant this right foot into your left jaw.” He then replied, let me in lock up, I was just kidding. What he didn’t know was if he would of said go for it, I would asked him to kneel down. In contrast with my dependence upon a faulty image, again, the Savior has shown the perfect example of being steadfast and immovable in those situations that were most trying, For in his life despite the world judging him to be a thing of naught; “…wherefore they scourge him, and he suffereth it; and they smite him, and he suffereth it. Yea, they spit upon him, and he suffereth it, because of his loving kindness and his long-suffering towards the children of men.”[19] The Savior never faltered or relied upon worldly measures of power and strength in the end of his mortal existence, for He knew who He was and was steadfast and immovable, as His will had moved to be swallowed in the will of His Father’s. So it is the task of each of us to move to that same state.

In my history class, my teacher started talking about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He did not have a high opinion of the Church. He said we were polygamists and racists.
Everything I had previously learned about the Church had made sense to me. But my experience in class made me think about some tough questions from Church history, like why black people weren’t allowed to hold the priesthood for a time, and why plural marriage happened.
Because of that, I started really thinking, pondering, and praying. I read from the scriptures, talked with my parents and leaders, and learned more for myself. Even though I had questions, I didn’t give up or give in.
As I studied and learned, I almost felt like I was being carried. I still don’t fully understand everything, but I was able to find peace.
Now when I have questions, I hold on to what I already know, like all the experiences that have helped my testimony grow. When something stumps me, prayer is usually my go-to, and then I try to listen to the Spirit while I’m reading the scriptures.
This past year, I’ve really come to know the power of the Spirit, and I’ve felt peace and comfort and love. I know that there is in fact a God who talks to us and wants us to make it back home.

To heal, and to be healed. These are separate gifts. The Prophet was called upon, over and over, to administer—sometimes with oil, sometimes not—to those who were sick, both in his own family and beyond it. On the occasion now known in LDS annals as “the day of God’s power” (July 22, 1839), he himself arose from a sick bed of cholera and went across the river to Montrose, Iowa.66 Dozens were instantaneously healed that day. His journal says only, “Many of the sick were this day raised up by the power of God.”67 He does not add, “and I was the major instrument.” We learn from others’ journals that he led that procession of faith.68

While serving as a mission president, I came home once to general conference. It’s always very dangerous for a mission president to leave his mission—I don’t recommend that. While I was away, four of my missionaries had decided that a sister was too good for her husband, and they had counseled her to divorce him and leave him. That’s right. A missionary, you see, is called to preach the gospel by the Spirit, and he has great responsibility with respect to nonmembers. But when it comes to membership in the Church, we have branch presidents and bishops who are called, ordained, and set apart by the Lord to give this kind of direction and guidance. I would even be concerned about a bishop who would counsel a wife to leave her husband. I transferred those missionaries, got them as far from this situation as I could as quickly as I could. Then it took a month before I was able to get the husband and wife back together again! It worked out all right. They are still corresponding with me even now, so I think it’s going to work out pretty well. But when we get out of our areas of assignment, we get into trouble. It makes no difference who you are.

Growing up, I thought I knew what serving a mission would be like. My older siblings had served missions, I had seen movies about missionaries, and I was ready to get to work. But as my mission got closer, my plan quickly fell apart.
Because of the COVID-19 pandemic, I was reassigned from my original call in the Philippines to my home country of Australia. When I arrived in the mission field, my experience was different than what I had expected. I desperately wanted to go home.
After I talked with my mission president, he gave me the option to finish my mission early and return home—exactly what I wanted. But when I was presented with that choice, I felt an overwhelming feeling from the Spirit that I should stay in the mission field.
I had a choice to make: act on revelation or act on my own desires.
Because of past experiences following promptings, I trusted that even though it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, this prompting to stay on my mission would ultimately be for my good.
I ended up serving a full two years and completing my mission. I wish I could say that the remainder of my time was super easy, but it wasn’t. However, the things I learned, the daily habits that connected me with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, and the deeper testimony I gained from serving have kept me grounded in the gospel.
Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles addressed this sort of situation when he said: “Very rarely does one prompting bring an answer. There’s almost always a sequence, ‘line upon line, precept upon precept’ (2 Nephi 28:30).” Even though my mission was tough, I was able to press forward with hope that God had a plan for me and that my struggles wouldn’t be in vain, because of the revelation I had received.

In one of my stake conference assignments in the Salt Lake Valley, I invited a young deacons quorum president to join me to talk about the keys of the priesthood. I wanted him to understand that he held a very special office that included the keys to preside over a quorum of the priesthood. We talked about the great responsibility it is to hold keys and how special it is to belong to a quorum. At the conclusion of the little presentation, I asked him how many members he had in his quorum. His answer was 14.
Then the question: “How many are active?”
The answer: “12.”
Then I asked, “What about the other two?”
His response was, “I need to get to work and make them an active part of our quorum.”
I asked him how long that would take. He thought maybe three months. I encouraged him in his efforts.
Three months later, almost to the day, I received a letter from him informing me that all the members of his quorum were now active. He said he had befriended them, and one was now attending deacons quorum meetings, and the other had been ordained a teacher by the bishop. I was overwhelmed with his response. What an example of one honoring his priesthood and using priesthood keys to carry out an assignment the Lord has given him to fulfill. I could not help but marvel at the design the Lord has established for the administration of His work here on earth using the powers of the priesthood.

Every year when I was young, I helped my mother wrap the family Christmas presents. I had 5 married siblings and 13 nieces and nephews, so this was no simple task. But even in the colorful mess, I noticed that we seemed to always wrap a handkerchief for my sister. Even if my mother was giving her a nightgown or a blouse or some kitchen gadget, there was that handkerchief for Ann again. I understood that handkerchiefs were practical and inexpensive, but I began to wonder what my sister would think about receiving this gift so often.
One December, I finally commented: “Another handkerchief for Ann? Mom, it seems you give her one almost every year. Have you considered maybe she has enough by now? How many does she need? And another gift makes her family parcel more expensive to mail. I don’t think you need to do this.”
My mother put her scissors aside. “Let me tell you a story. Then maybe you’ll understand. This happened before you were born.
“You know how I came to this country.” (I did. My mother’s family was surprised when she married a widower with four children but shocked it meant she was leaving Holland for the United States.) “But some things you don’t know. When we came here, we had nothing. Life was hard. Your father was working two jobs but with little pay. I took in washing and ironing. Still we didn’t have enough money.
“Ann was 17 then and understood how much money we owed. She decided she could help. She went to work. She found a job in the city at a candy store. She had to take the bus there and stand at the counter all day. She gave us almost all her salary, keeping just enough for bus fare and to buy some lunch, since she couldn’t keep any food behind the counter.
“Ann would tell me she was glad she had a job and that her salary could help us. But she didn’t tell me she worried for her little brothers. Christmas was coming. Their new American friends were talking about the toys they had asked Santa to bring them. What if Santa didn’t bring any presents to our house?
“A few days before Christmas, Ann gave me some money. But it wasn’t her payday. I asked her where she got this money. She told me she had saved it by not eating lunch. It wasn’t a lot of money, but I knew it meant she hadn’t had lunch for weeks. She told me to take the money and buy Christmas presents for her brothers. She trusted me, the new stepmother, to buy what was right.
“I had to buy little things. But I decided I could make a Christmas for the whole family. Tangerines to eat, teddy bear soaps, crayons, little toy cars, socks for your father. And I bought Ann a handkerchief. It was plain, but I stayed up late at night to embroider it and make it pretty. I was so happy my new daughter was giving us Christmas. I wanted her to have something special for Christmas too.
“Christmas came. We were surprised when our church friends brought us a Christmas tree and a box full of presents. They apologized that it was simple things wrapped up in newspaper, but it was wonderful! There were so many useful things and good food to eat. And then another surprise, Ann’s and my secret surprise: Santa had come to our house! Your brothers were so excited! Soon they were on the floor of that little living room, running cars over and under the newspaper. Newspaper everywhere! And Ann opened her present and found the handkerchief. She cried. I cried a little too.
“We made our Christmas meal. Oh, we had treats we hadn’t had in such a long time! Then we cleaned up. Ann went to put her handkerchief away. But it was gone. We looked everywhere. And then I thought, oh no, your father had thrown the newspaper in the fire. Had the handkerchief gone in the fire? It must have because we never found it. But Ann didn’t complain. What had happened had happened. She said she was happy because her brothers were happy.
“The next Christmas, I gave Ann a handkerchief. I made sure that one didn’t get lost. When she got married and moved away, I mailed her a Christmas handkerchief. I don’t give her a handkerchief now because I think she needs it. I give her a handkerchief to tell her I will never forget what she did for our first Christmas together.”
Several years after my mother told me this story, we were able to celebrate Christmas with our entire family. In the commotion, I watched my sister unwrap a handkerchief. I saw her eyes glisten as she reached over and gave our mother’s hand a squeeze. I understood. It wasn’t just a handkerchief. It was their special remembrance of love, gifts, and sacrifice. And, in its simple way, it reminded me of why we celebrate Christmas—because of a very great and loving gift that required sacrifice.

One Sunday in October, I was assigned to give an important part in a program at church. But in October everyone in my family had to work hard to harvest the rice in my father’s rice fields. That included working on the Sabbath day.
I prayed to Heavenly Father, and the Spirit planted a thought in my mind: I could try to finish the harvest before Sunday. I would get up early and work every morning before school. Then every afternoon I would work after school until dark.
But by Saturday night only half of the harvest was done. I went to bed discouraged that I had not accomplished my goal. Sunday morning I awoke early to go to the fields. My father came to my room and, with a gentle smile, asked why I wasn’t going to church. My heart was full of joy. I could go to church and keep the Sabbath day holy!

Finally, let me conclude by recounting an experience I shared with the deans during our spring retreat. We began our day by hiking up Y Mountain. The idea was to get perspective on BYU as a house of learning. It was also to commemorate the century mark of the block Y’s construction. Climbing the Y connected us with a very old campus tradition and brought back memories for those of us who had been undergraduates here in the days when we used to whitewash the Y. We gazed across the campus, surveying the scene with the eyes of memory, noting how over the years the campus has steadily expanded from its beginnings in downtown Provo up to Maeser quad and on up “temple hill” toward the mountains.
As I contemplated this scene in the peaceful light of dawn, I saw our campus in a new light. From Y Mountain, BYU appears as one of three great LDS institutions of learning whose campuses are now contiguous: BYU, the MTC, and the Provo Temple. Each in a different way fulfills the divine injunction given by the Lord to His fledgling church:
Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God.35
This vision from Y Mountain reminded me of an experience President Oaks described in an Annual University Conference address almost 30 years ago. Said he:
Often in the last three years I have stood at the window of my office, looking out across the northern part of the campus to the Language Training Mission and the temple. I tell the visitors who share this sight that these three institutions—university, mission, and temple—are the most powerful combination of institutions on the face of the earth. They make this place unique in all the world. Now, after studying the 88th section, I see even more clearly the common origins of all three institutions in a single great revelation.36
I came to see and feel that May morning what President Oaks learned years ago:
To a Father in heaven who has given no temporal law and to whom all things are spiritual (D&C 29:34), the work of temple, school, and ministry must all be seen as the unified work of the kingdom.37
What a privilege and solemn responsibility is ours to be laborers in a house of learning that shares not only proximity with the temple but the same vision of learning as set forth in section 88 of the Doctrine and Covenants. I count myself so blessed to be numbered with you, my dear colleagues, in this great work of education for eternity.

My testimony is that the Lord knows us. He knows what we can learn and what can happen if we’ll do what He asks us to do. My mission to Japan began a remarkable set of experiences for me. Years later I went back to Japan as a mission president. After that, I returned as a General Authority.
I wrote my mom a letter recently and said, “Who could’ve imagined all that would happen because of that one interview with my bishop that day?” My mother wrote back, “I imagined it.”

My wife and I have just celebrated a remarkable thirtieth anniversary. Thirty years ago, young missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on our door in Nottingham, England.
How did their message appeal to two active members of another church? We, and generations before us, had held membership in the established church of the land. Furthermore, we were very happy with our way of life. Two precious children had graced our home, and a new job in a large industrial company was giving challenge and enjoyment.
What more could we hope for? What could add to our happiness? As the missionaries taught us and prayed with us, we began to realize that there were gaps in our life, that we had unfulfilled needs. For a few minutes may I share with you ten ways in which our lives became even more purposeful and happy as these needs were fulfilled. I am sure you will be able to identify some of these needs in your life, in your home, in your family.
First, we realized that our communication with God was not often enough or strong enough. True, we had always said our individual prayers, but when, because of the missionaries, we also started to pray together regularly as husband and wife and with our children, we experienced a tremendous feeling of closeness, not only with each other but with the Almighty God.
The missionaries had taught us that he is a personal being, that he is literally our Father, and prayers began to flow from the heart and were no longer repetitious. We came to know him as a loving Father, just and kind, reliable and true. What great need there is in the world today to commune with the Infinite, to talk and walk with God, to know that he speaks to us today and that we are in reality his children.
Second, we came to know Jesus Christ, not just as a historical figure, but as the living Son of God. In high school and the years that followed I had made a special study of the New Testament. However, the Savior’s life and mortal ministry had no great impact on my life until the missionaries testified, as did Job of old, that our Redeemer lives (see Job 19:25).
I came to know him as my personal Savior, who gave his life for me and for each of us. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Everyone needs a friend and everyone has a friend beyond compare—Jesus Christ and him crucified and resurrected for us.
Third, as a young married couple, we were seeking security in an insecure world. We had grown from youth through teenage years during World War II. I had been a member of the Home Guard at sixteen, trained to defend my country, and at seventeen had volunteered for the Royal Air Force. Now, more than five years after the war had finished, there was still rubble in the streets and rationing in the shops.
We grasped at the secure message that the missionaries gave us, that God speaks today as he did anciently, through prophets. Yes, he is mindful of us, he does love us, he has restored his church and the fulness of his gospel as he promised. Oh, how the world needs a prophet to lead us and guide us in these troubled times. I testify that we have such a prophet. He sits behind me as I speak in this tabernacle. He presides over The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Lord’s church and kingdom here on earth.
Fourth, we began attending the Church at the missionaries’ invitation—and what a friendly reception! We soon learned what true sociality is, and sincere brotherhood and sisterhood which bind together people of all nations and tongues. “Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (Eph. 2:19). What a wonderful feeling of belonging, of being needed and appreciated, beyond anything we had previously experienced.
Soon we were singing in choirs; visiting other Church members in their homes, just as they visited us; and giving service to others in some of the many service projects the Church provides. We were able to choose from a wide range of activities—drama, dancing, sport—to supplement the spiritual progress that came rapidly by worshiping and learning with other Latter-day Saints. Everyone needs to experience the warmth of friendship and happy social activity on a continuing basis.
Fifth, my family and family life became even more meaningful and precious to me as we commenced having wonderful family home evenings together. We learned that all over the world, members of the Church spend at least one evening a week together in a balanced evening of spiritual instruction, fun, and talent sharing. We love our children, and we were glad to learn from the missionaries that although baptism is essential for the remission of sins, infant baptism is not necessary since “all children who die before … accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom” (D&C 137:10). We have known a number of parents who have been distressed at the death of a small child because of the un-Christian doctrine of infant baptism.
Again, we also became concerned about our wider family: our grandparents, our great-grandparents, and all of our ancestors. This is also a universal need, as Alex Haley expressed, “a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage” (“What Roots Means to Me,” Reader’s Digest, May 1977, p. 73). Everyone has some family, sometimes near, sometimes far, sometimes living in mortality, sometimes passed on and awaiting the Resurrection. The strength that comes from family in all its aspects is a vital need, one that can be fulfilled by the principles and programs learned from the missionaries.
Sixth, everyone appreciates good health, and there is a basic need to have our spirit housed in a well-functioning body if at all possible. Personally, I had suffered internal discomfort for some years, but the health code, or Word of Wisdom, taught by the missionaries helped me to overcome this. I can testify that the exclusion of the habit-forming stimulants of alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee has been a great blessing in my life and the lives of my wife and my children. I am glad the Lord gave this revelation through Joseph Smith, the Prophet, almost 150 years ago, bringing increased health and vitality to millions of people.
Seventh, as provider for our young family, I was not only concerned about physical and spiritual well-being, but indeed with personal progress generally. I soon found that in the Lord’s Church all kinds of resources are provided to fulfill this need. Before long I was involved in educational activities and leadership training and cultural pursuits of various kinds. Progress within my company organization was a natural outgrowth of progression in the Church. This was not surprising, for early in our discussions with the missionaries we had learned of God’s plan of eternal progression for his children. Does not everyone deep down have this yearning, this need to progress and improve, to develop and refine?
Eighth, I think along with these needs there is also a spirit of adventure in most of us in varying degrees, a need to discover, a need to explore. For many this need is met by reading adventure stories or traveling to new places. For myself, I had always been fascinated by the study of Middle Eastern archaeology, particularly of the great Egyptian civilization.
The message of my missionary friends even fulfilled this need, for they told us of an ancient record on gold plates, inscribed by people from the Middle East in the pre-Christian era. Imagine my excitement to learn that these ancient people with their prophets and culture had left the Old World and traveled to the New, to become a mighty people on what is now the American continent. Their records were hidden and preserved and a little over 150 years ago were discovered, not by archaeologists, but by a teenage youth. The faith and worthiness of this young man, Joseph Smith, enabled him not only to find the gold plates, but later to translate the hieroglyphic record by the power of God.
What a thrill it was to see some of the reformed Egyptian characters as copied by the hand of Joseph Smith. I knew by the feeling I had that they were true characters. Then, to hold this book of scripture, this Book of Mormon, in my hands and read it eagerly, sincerely, prayerfully, was a powerful spiritual experience. The need I had for the adventure of discovery was fulfilled through the Book of Mormon. This was not merely discovery of ancient peoples, but a complete discovery of the divinity of Jesus Christ. I testify that the Book of Mormon is a witness, a modern-day witness, of the Savior of the world, who visited this continent after his resurrection.
Ninth, as one who had lived less than perfectly, and yet had no serious matters to disturb my conscience, I felt the need to make some changes in my life. I was overjoyed to learn the pure teaching of Jesus Christ concerning faith, repentance, baptism by immersion for the remission of sins, and the laying on of hands to receive the Holy Ghost. What joy to start afresh with a clean sheet, having turned away from unsound doctrines, vain traditions, and perverted ordinances.
Again, this would seem to be a universal need, all men having been born into this earth life innocent and pure, and having been tainted by the things of the world. The marvelous thing is that Jesus gave his life for everyone. His resurrection was for everyone, “for as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive” (1 Cor. 15:22).
Tenth, and finally, since being baptized into this wonderful restored Church of Jesus Christ, I have felt an inner peace, “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philip. 4:7). I have heard many people say their greatest need and desire is to obtain peace of mind. How does this come? It comes by knowing the truth, for “the truth shall make you free” (John 8:32). I testify that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true Church of Jesus Christ, and teaches true principles and true ordinances.
How grateful I am that my ten most fervent needs have been fulfilled through listening to the missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then, by study and prayer and obedience to the laws and ordinances of the gospel, I have found happiness not only here but for eternities to come.
May all within the sound of my voice, and all God’s children everywhere, have the same fulfillment, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

One faithful sister shared a special spiritual experience in the Salt Lake Temple. While in the confirmation room, after a vicarious confirmation ordinance was pronounced, she heard, “And the prisoner shall go free!” She felt a great sense of urgency for those who were waiting for their baptismal and confirmation work. Upon returning home, she searched the scriptures for the phrase she had heard. She found Joseph Smith’s declaration in section 128 of the Doctrine and Covenants: “Let your hearts rejoice, and be exceedingly glad. Let the earth break forth into singing. Let the dead speak forth anthems of eternal praise to the King Immanuel, who hath ordained, before the world was, that which would enable us to redeem them out of their prison; for the prisoners shall go free.”

Do you remember President Nelson playing the song “Hope of Israel” on the piano in the worldwide Youth Music Festival on March 17, 2021? Calling us the Lord’s youth battalion, he invited us to let the Spirit guide us as we help to gather Israel in these latter days.
Probably like many of you, I wondered what I as a 15-year-old could do to follow the prophet’s invitation, especially in the middle of a worldwide pandemic.
A year earlier, President Nelson had also invited the world to #HearHim, meaning to listen to the words of the Lord Jesus Christ. I knew the Book of Mormon was another testament of Jesus Christ. The idea came to me to help people hear the Lord’s voice by sharing the Book of Mormon in a new way: as a podcast recorded by teenagers.
“I thought it would be cool to hear the book read by everyday teens like you and me.”
In addition to the professionally produced recordings of the Book of Mormon available from the Church, I thought it would be cool to hear the book read by everyday teens like you and me, the way we experience it. We don’t always read perfectly, and not everyone knows how to pronounce every word correctly. But that’s OK because none of us is perfect anyway. I actually kind of like the imperfections in some of the recordings—it makes me feel like I’m listening to one of my friends reading.
The project took a lot of work. It turns out that requesting, editing, assembling, publishing, and hosting a podcast with recordings from 250 different people is quite a big job. The result is a recording of the entire text of the Book of Mormon featuring readers from 15 U.S. states and 10 countries from around the world. The recordings can be heard on the website www.teensreadthebook.com and on all major podcast listening platforms under Teens Read the Book.
McKay (center in the yellow shirt) gathers with other youth who helped with the podcast. They enjoyed the chance to talk about the podcast and reflect on the blessing it was to work on it.
I love hearing the variety of voices and accents of youth who sent in recordings. Knowing their voices would be heard around the world, many readers worked very hard to get their recordings just right. Some, like Thomas from New Zealand (who read 3 Nephi 20) or José from Peru (who read 3 Nephi 23), practiced for hours or days before recording. A group of 10 youth from South Korea faced the challenge of English not being their first language. Their solution was to work together, each recording a few verses at a time and stitching them together into what became 2 Nephi 28 and 29.
My goal when I started the project was to help people feel the Spirit and come closer to Jesus Christ. Seeing youth, most of whom I don’t know, respond to my invitation showed me how deeply they felt about the Book of Mormon. Their words have now been downloaded and listened to thousands of times. They are helping people feel the Spirit of God.
I am grateful to those who contributed to this project and for the way I felt the Lord’s help doing it. I am honored to be part of the Lord’s youth battalion, standing alongside others who love the Book of Mormon. I have also learned that when we respond to invitations from the Lord’s prophet, the Spirit will guide our efforts.