Gospel Story Finder

A story written by Karen Nolen, which appeared in the New Era in 1974, tells of a Benjamin Landart who, in 1888, was 15 years old and an accomplished violinist. Living on a farm in northern Utah with his mother and seven brothers and sisters was sometimes a challenge to Benjamin, as he had less time than he would have liked to play his violin. Occasionally his mother would lock up the violin until he had his farm chores done, so great was the temptation for Benjamin to play it.

In late 1892 Benjamin was asked to travel to Salt Lake to audition for a place with the territorial orchestra. For him, this was a dream come true. After several weeks of practicing and prayers, he went to Salt Lake in March of 1893 for the much anticipated audition. When he heard Benjamin play, the conductor, a Mr. Dean, told Benjamin he was the most accomplished violinist he had heard west of Denver. He was told to report to Denver for rehearsals in the fall and learned that he would be earning enough to keep himself, with some left over to send home.

A week after Benjamin received the good news, however, his bishop called him into his office and asked if he couldn’t put off playing with the orchestra for a couple of years. He told Benjamin that before he started earning money there was something he owed the Lord. He then asked Benjamin to accept a mission call.

Benjamin felt that giving up his chance to play in the territorial orchestra would be almost more than he could bear, but he also knew what his decision should be. He promised the bishop that if there were any way to raise the money for him to serve, he would accept the call.

When Benjamin told his mother about the call, she was overjoyed. She told him that his father had always wanted to serve a mission but had been killed before that opportunity had come to him. However, when they discussed the financing of the mission, her face clouded over. Benjamin told her he would not allow her to sell any more of their land. She studied his face for a moment and then said, “Ben, there is a way we can raise the money. This family [has] one thing that is of great enough value to send you on your mission. You will have to sell your violin.”

Ten days later, on March 23, 1893, Benjamin wrote in his journal: “I awoke this morning and took my violin from its case. All day long I played the music I love. In the evening when the light grew dim and I could see to play no longer, I placed the instrument in its case. It will be enough. Tomorrow I leave [for my mission].”

Forty-five years later, on June 23, 1938, Benjamin wrote in his journal: “The greatest decision I ever made in my life was to give up something I dearly loved to the God I loved even more. He has never forgotten me for it.”

For a second profile, I turn from Mexico to a missionary at the Missionary Training Center in Provo, Utah, desperately struggling to become proficient in the German language, that he might be an effective missionary to the people of southern Germany. Each day as he opened his German grammar text, he noticed with interest and curiosity that the front cover displayed a picture of a most quaint and ancient house in Rothenburg, West Germany. Beneath the picture, the location was given. In his heart that young man determined, “I’ll visit that house and teach the truth to whoever lives within it.” This he did. The result was the conversion and baptism of Sister Helma Hahn. Today she devotes much of her time speaking to tourists who come from all over the world to see her house. She delights in telling them of the blessings which the gospel of Jesus Christ has brought to her. Her house is perhaps one of the most frequently photographed houses in the entire world. No visitor leaves without hearing in simple yet earnest words her testimony of praise and gratitude. That missionary who brought to Sister Hahn the gospel remembered the sacred charge: “Go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost” (Matt. 28:19).

A few days ago Elder Butler and I were at the grocery store and started talking to a man named Frank Cooper. He said that he had always been curious about the Hill Cumorah Pageant but had never gone to it. So we invited him to go to it with us. As we sat on the lawn at the foot of the Hill Cumorah with hundreds of other people, Book of Mormon stories came to life before our eyes. The music was beautiful, and the costumes were colorful.
Mr. Cooper was deeply touched by the pageant and wanted to know more about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith and the Church. The very next day we went with him, first to the Joseph Smith house and then to the Sacred Grove, where we taught him a discussion about Joseph Smith. It was a powerful experience for all of us. Helping just one person like Mr. Cooper find real meaning in his life is worth all the hard times and discouragement that we might have on a mission.

Paper stars. I am half Thai and half American. I spent three years living in Laos, next to Thailand. For the first two years we were in Laos, my parents hired a pileang, or nanny, named Rojana, who took good care of me. Since she was Buddhist, I didn’t expect a gift from her at Christmas.
On Christmas morning I found a jar filled with at least a hundred tiny paper stars, folded so they were three-dimensional. They were blue and pink and glittery. Rojana had no money to buy me anything, so she spent hours folding those stars for a child who wasn’t her own.
It was a wonderful Christmas gift, a gift of time and dedication.Faye H., Virginia, USA

I consider June 2, 1940, to be a very important day in the history of my family. On this day my father was baptized into this Church.
Writing to his father, Elder Jack McDonald, one of the missionaries who baptized my father, described the day with these words:
“Last Sunday was an especially beautiful day. We missionaries went out to a secluded spot on the river’s edge, out in the country, and there Elder Jones and I [Elder McDonald] made our first baptism. Antony Aidukaitis entered into the icy waters and became a member of the Church. … Everything was perfect. The sky so blue, the countryside so still, so green, so lovely that none of us could help feeling the presence of some great influence.
“[As we walked] with our new member, he said that he just couldn’t explain how wonderful this day had been for him, how he actually felt like a new man. … That was our first baptism—no credit to me or anybody. He converted himself.”
This event changed the history of my life. I am not sure my father was able to foresee the wisdom of his act, but I love him for what he did that day. He passed away more than 30 years ago, but I will honor and bless his name forever.
I admire the courage my father had to be baptized into the Church in spite of the circumstances he faced at the time. It was not easy for him. His wife did not get baptized with him. The vices of drinking alcohol and smoking were strong temptations for him. He was poor. His mother was against his joining the Church, and she told him that if he were baptized, she would no longer consider him her son. With fewer than 300 members in Brazil, the Church did not have a single chapel there. I am truly astonished by my father’s determination and courage.
How could he make such a decision in the face of so many unfavorable circumstances? The answer is simple: it was because my father read the Book of Mormon. When he read it, he came to know of the truthfulness of the message of the Restoration. The Book of Mormon is a proof that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true. Preach My Gospel teaches that “the Book of Mormon, combined with the Spirit, is [the] most powerful resource in conversion” ([2004], 104).

Tony Wong, reared in the Church with family support, is an exception in Hong Kong. Most Church members are first-generation converts, often with families who don’t understand this “new” religion.
“It was difficult,” acknowledges Camel Lok, who was baptized as a teenager. Her family tolerated her weekly church attendance, but Camel often felt alone in her quest for spiritual growth and learning.
“I couldn’t have done it without my friends in the ward,” she explains. “Meetings on Sunday really strengthened me for the upcoming week.”
Now Camel and her husband, Gary, both returned missionaries, find support from each other and look forward to rearing their daughter with a strong gospel foundation.

We hear some these days who say that because of economic pressures they cannot afford to pay their tithing. I recall an experience I had as a stake president some years ago. A man whom I knew came to get his temple recommend signed. I questioned him in the usual way and asked, among other things, whether he was paying an honest tithing. He candidly replied that he was not, that he could not afford to because of his many debts. I felt impressed to tell him that he would not pay his debts until he paid his tithing.
He went along for a year or two in his normal way, and then made a decision. He talked about it some time later and he said: “What you told me has proved to be true. I felt I could not pay my tithing because of my debts. I discovered that no matter how hard I tried, somehow I could not manage to reduce my debt. Finally my wife and I sat down together and talked about it and concluded we would try the promise of the Lord. We have done so. And somehow in a way we can’t quite understand, the Lord has blessed us. We have not missed that which we have given to him, and for the first time in many years we are reducing our debt. We have come to the wisdom of budgeting our expenditures and of determining where our funds have been going. Because we now have a higher objective, we are able to curtail some of our appetites and desires. And above all of this, we feel we can now go to the house of the Lord with clear consciences as those deserving of this wonderful blessing.”

"We are all privileged to belong to a wonderful family. Genealogical research has so far traced our ancestors back to the 16th century, and further research continues to push back the sands of time.
"As far as the branch of the family which belongs to the Church goes, that began a few years after the Church was organized, when a 16-year-old apprentice shoemaker in Scotland heard two Mormon missionaries. He knew from the very beginning that what he heard was the truth. He wrote to his parents and asked for permission to be baptized. They wrote back and said that if he joined the Church, he would no longer be considered a member of the family. The man he worked for told him that if he joined the Church, he could no longer work for him.
"What a difficult choice for a 16-year-old boy to make. He must have agonized over the decision. To lose everything considered of value in life—his family and a chance to earn an income.
"If he had chosen to reject the gospel, this family would not be meeting here this year, all of us members of the Church, all of us committed to upholding the standards of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
"Every person at some time in his or her life must make the same kind of decision. Each of us must decide, once and for all; we must say to ourselves, ‘This is who I am, and these are the standards I live by.’ Until we do that, we are continually tossed to and fro, not knowing what to do when we face difficult decisions.
"Archibald McKinnon made the decision to join the Church. He came to America and crossed the plains with a handcart company. In time he married a beautiful young woman in the Manti Temple, and from their union, all of us have descended."

Although seven-year-old Caylen Craven of Pawhuska, Oklahoma, has not ever had to go to war, he is a “stripling warrior” because he has learned how to be honest, too. One day while walking through the airport with his family, he saw a man in front of him accidently drop some money. Even though he is normally very shy around strangers, Caylen ran to pick up the money and return it to its owner.
Caylen’s mother wrote, “We were thankful that his first reaction was to do the right and honest thing, that he didn’t even think about keeping the dollar.”

Example #2:
My family and I were converted to the Church in Alabama when I was young. I attended Primary about a year before I became a deacon. We went to church occasionally until I was a teacher, then after that I fell into in-activity. Family night, family scripture reading, personal scripture reading, singing primary songs, was all foreign to me, but not to some of my close LDS friends. Luckily, I was able to get reactivated in the church my senior year of high school and came to BYU. Being around so many Mormon’s who grew up in the church was strange to me at times. At the end of the first semester, I went to tithing settlement. After tithing settlement, I stopped by my FHE sister’s apartment to say, “Hi.” I was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and had just come from my first ever tithing settlement with the Bishop. When they found this out, they all laughed and said that my appearance was a “No no.” I should have been dressed in Church clothes. I was so embarrassed. Up until that moment I had been so pleased with myself that I had attended my first tithing settlement. However, what others saw from their perspective, was an irreverent individual who went to his interview in shorts and a T-shirt. Their perspective was correct, it was not appropriate dress, but their judgment was not. The Bishop and the Lord had a different perspective, they were glad I was coming to church and had gone to my first tithing settlement, regardless of my clothes.

A few months ago I ran a half marathon, one that I had prepared for diligently for many months prior to the event. The start line is always an exciting time for me and as the first few miles unfolded that day, I made an attempt as I always do on staying mentally focused. At about the 10-mile mark, as often is the case, I found myself settled in with a group of runners who had about the same pace I did at that stage of the run.

One particular young lady at that point (she was probably half my age), touched me on the shoulder and asked me how I was doing (I must have looked in rough shape to her). I pulled out one of my earbuds and reassured her I was doing alright and felt good with about three miles to go. I returned the question and asked her how she was doing, to which she replied; "Great, I want to finish strong, and my goal at this point is to finish ahead of you!" I chuckled and said, "Well that shouldn't be difficult, as I am old, slow, and fat." She laughed at my comment, and then I added this statement as we continued running along the course, "But remember this young lady, keep in mind, that if you are running close to me with a quarter mile to go before the finish line, I have a nasty kick that will come into play." She laughed again and I put the earbud with music back in my ear.

As I continued to lumber along, I thought about her challenge to finish ahead of me and about my preparation for the race. I had run over 3,000 miles the previous year in Afghanistan virtually all on a treadmill—but at that time for a different reason—to keep up with the rigor of my military assignment in a combat zone. I thought about the endless hours of running I'd done since returning home leading up to this race where I had strapped on the running shoes and hit the pavement to pay the price leading up to this event. I thought about my commitment to be consistent and my effort to improve along the way. I thought about the days I didn't feel like running or working out, but forced myself to do so anyway, because I knew it would help me succeed in the end. I thought about the promise I made to myself to progress in earnest as the day of the run approached. I knew I had paid the price to succeed.

That said, sure enough at the final turn which indeed left about a quarter mile to the finish line, this young lady was still running next to me, and I asked her at that point if she was ready for my final kick, and she assured me that she was. I then turned on that nasty kick that I spoke of and by the time I crossed the finish line, she was about 100 meters in my rearview mirror.

By the way, I had a quick visit with the young lady when she finished a few seconds after me in the race and I gloated over my little victory for about 30 seconds—until I was reminded by a friend that there were over 2,000 runners who finished ahead of me—a lesson in staying humble and a talk for another day—but let me shift gears.

Some months ago, as Elder Spencer J. Condie and I were in the Salt Lake airport, we unexpectedly met a devoted and faithful couple who have been friends for long years. This couple has spent a lifetime of service, meekly, faithfully, and effectively trying to build up the Church in many places in the world. Elder Condie noted, “Isn’t it remarkable what people with five loaves and two fishes do to build up the kingdom of God?” This kind of quiet, devoted service is surely a fulfillment of the word of God “that the fulness of my gospel might be proclaimed by the weak and the simple unto the ends of the world, and before kings and rulers” (D&C 1:23). Today I would like to speak of those of us who have only talents equal to five loaves and two fishes to offer the Savior to help feed the multitudes.
“When Jesus then lifted up his eyes, and saw a great company come unto him, he saith unto Philip, Whence shall we buy bread, that these may eat?
“And this he said to prove him: for he himself knew what he would do” (John 6:5–6).
Philip answered quickly that there was not enough money to buy bread for the multitude. Then Andrew, Peter’s brother, said, “There is a lad here, which hath five barley loaves, and two small fishes” (John 6:9).
“And when he had taken the five loaves and the two fishes, he looked up to heaven, and blessed, and brake the loaves, and gave them to his disciples to set before them; and the two fishes divided he among them all.
“And they did all eat, and were filled.
“And they took up twelve baskets full of the fragments, and of the fishes.
“And they that did eat of the loaves were about five thousand men” (Mark 6:41–44).
Subsequently their hearts were hardened in that they forgot the divine mission of Jesus, “for they considered not the miracle of the loaves” (Mark 6:52).
In our time, we seem to have forgotten the miracle of the five loaves and the two fishes in favor of the miracles wrought by the mind and hand of men. I refer to the marvels of modern transportation and the increasing sophistication of all scientific knowledge, including the new electronic highway. We have forgotten that this amazing knowledge comes to mankind only as God chooses to reveal it, and it should be used for purposes nobler and wiser than mere entertainment. This knowledge permits the words of the prophets of God to be bounced off satellites hovering over the earth so it is possible for much of mankind to hear their messages.
With this great knowledge has come also some skepticism about the simple and profound eternal truths taught in the miracle of the loaves and of the fishes—namely, that God rules in the heavens and the earth through his infinite intelligence and goodness.
We are also to understand and remember that we too, like the lad in the New Testament account, are the spirit children of our Heavenly Father and that Jesus is the Christ, our Savior, and the Redeemer of the world. We believe that in the centuries following the establishment of his kingdom upon the earth, the doctrines and the ordinances were changed, resulting in a falling away and the loss of the keys of priesthood authority from the earth. A miracle even greater than that of the loaves and the fishes was the vision of the Prophet Joseph Smith, who saw the Father and the Son in the Sacred Grove near Palmyra, New York. Subsequently the keys, the priesthood, and the saving ordinances were restored in their fulness, and Christ’s church was reestablished in our time. Thus God has again “fed” us and filled our “baskets” to overflowing.
It has been said that this church does not necessarily attract great people but more often makes ordinary people great. Many nameless people with gifts equal only to five loaves and two small fishes magnify their callings and serve without attention or recognition, feeding literally thousands. In large measure, they make possible the fulfillment of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream that the latter-day gospel of Christ would be like a stone cut out of the mountain without hands, rolling forth until it fills the whole earth (see Dan. 2:34–35; D&C 65:2). These are the hundreds of thousands of leaders and teachers in all of the auxiliaries and priesthood quorums, the home teachers, the Relief Society visiting teachers. These are the many humble bishops in the Church, some without formal training but greatly magnified, always learning, with a humble desire to serve the Lord and the people of their wards.
Any man or woman who enjoys the Master’s touch is like potter’s clay in his hands. More important than acquiring fame or fortune is being what God wants us to be. Before we came to this earth, we may have been fashioned to do some small good in this life that no one else can do. The Lord said to Jeremiah, “Before I formed thee in the belly I knew thee; and before thou camest forth out of the womb I sanctified thee, and I ordained thee a prophet unto the nations” (Jer. 1:5). If God has a work for those with many talents, I believe he also has an important work for those of us who have few.
What is the central characteristic of those having only five loaves and two fishes? What makes it possible, under the Master’s touch, for them to serve, lift, and bless so that they touch for good the lives of hundreds, even thousands? After a lifetime of dealing in the affairs of men and women, I believe it is the ability to overcome personal ego and pride—both are enemies to the full enjoyment of the Spirit of God and to walking humbly before him. The ego interferes with husbands and wives asking each other for forgiveness. It prevents the enjoyment of the full sweetness of a higher love. The ego often prevents parents and children from fully understanding each other. The ego enlarges our feelings of self-importance and worth. It blinds us to reality. Pride keeps us from confessing our sins and shortcomings to the Lord and working out our repentance.
What of those who have talents equal only to two loaves and one fish? They do much of the hard, menial, unchallenging, poorly compensated work of the world. Life may not have been quite fair to them. They struggle to have enough to hold body and soul together. But they are not forgotten. If their talents are used to build the kingdom of God and serve others, they will fully enjoy the promises of the Savior. The great promise of the Savior is that they “shall receive [their] reward, even peace in this world, and eternal life in the world to come” (D&C 59:23). The one who had only two talents was able to say, “Lord, thou deliveredst unto me two talents: behold, I have gained two other talents beside them.” Thus said the Lord, “Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter … into the joy of thy lord” (Matt. 25:22–23).
It is a blessing for some to be given minds and talents equal to fifteen loaves and ten fishes. They have so very much that they can contribute, but some become less than they might. They do not reach their potential of service, perhaps because they take so much pride in what they think they know and what they have. They seem unwilling or unable to yield “to the enticings of the Holy Spirit … and [become] as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon [them], even as a child doth submit to his father” (Mosiah 3:19).
During much of my life, a few journalists and dissidents have predicted the imminent downfall of this church. They have often pointed to the alleged disaffection of the youth of the Church. The lives and the dedication of our almost 50,000 young missionaries are testament enough of the faithfulness of many of our youth. In addition, during my lifetime, the Church has grown from 525,000 to about 8,500,000. I believe and testify that this is because of the restoration of the fulness of the keys and authority of the gospel of Christ to Joseph Smith.
Recently an out-of-state journalist used the phrase that there were appearing “cracks in the walls of the temple,” figuratively speaking, of course. By this I suppose he meant that the moorings of the Church were being shaken by a very few who do not fully sustain the leaders of the Church or keep their covenants. To dispel this perception of cracks in our members’ faith, we need only to observe the joyful people who worship in any of our forty-five temples worldwide. Many are couples clutching their little bags and holding hands, and many are the unmarried, seeking the peaceful blessings of the house of the Lord. Their countenances reflect much joy and satisfaction in their lives.
A major reason this church has grown from its humble beginnings to its current strength is the faithfulness and devotion of millions of humble and devoted people who have only five loaves and two small fishes to offer in the service of the Master. They have largely surrendered their own interests and in so doing have found “the peace of God, which passeth all understanding” (Philip. 4:7). I wish only to be one of those who experience this supernal inner peace.
In the listening audience today are Jeff and Joyce Underwood of Pocatello, Idaho. They are parents of Jeralee and their other five children. Jeff works on a building maintenance team that cares for some of our chapels in Pocatello, Idaho. Joyce is a mother and homemaker. One day last July, their daughter Jeralee, age eleven, was going door to door collecting money for her newspaper route. Jeralee never returned home—not that day, nor the next day, nor the next, nor ever.
Two thousand people from the area had gone out day after day to search for her. Other churches sent support and food for the searchers. It was learned that Jeralee had been abducted and brutally murdered by an evil man. When her body was found, the whole city was horrified and shocked. All segments of the community reached out to Joyce and Jeff in love and sympathy. Some became angry and wanted to take vengeance.
After Jeralee’s body was found, Jeff and Joyce appeared with great composure before the television cameras and other media to publicly express their profound thanks to all who had helped in the search and who had extended sympathy and love. Joyce said, “I know our Heavenly Father has heard and answered our prayers, and he has brought our daughter back to us.” Jeff said, “We no longer have doubt about where she is.” Joyce continued, “I have learned a lot about love this week, and I also know there is a lot of hate. I have looked at the love and want to feel that love, and not the hate. We can forgive.”
Elder Joe J. Christensen and I, representing the General Authorities, were among the thousands privileged to attend Jeralee’s funeral service. The Holy Spirit blessed that gathering in a remarkable way and spoke peace to the souls of all who attended. Later, President Kert W. Howard, Jeralee’s stake president, wrote, “The Underwoods have received letters from people both in and out of the Church stating that they prayed for Jeralee, and they hadn’t prayed in years, and because of this, they had a renewed desire to return to the Church.” President Howard continued, “We will never know the extent of activation and rededication this single event has caused. Who knows the far-reaching effects Jeralee’s life will have for generations untold?” Many have come into the Church because they wanted to know what kind of a religion could give the Underwoods their spiritual strength.
I mention the good coming from this tragic event with Jeralee’s parents’ full approval and encouragement. Their sweet daughter was like the lad who had only five barley loaves and two small fishes to give to the cause of the Savior, but by the power of God, countless thousands have been spiritually fed.
I testify that the gospel we teach is the “power of God unto salvation” for all who listen and obey (Rom. 1:16), regardless of their talents and abilities, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Our grandson Quinton was born with multiple birth defects and lived three weeks short of a year, during which time he was in and out of the hospital. Sister Jensen and I were living in Argentina at that time. We truly wanted to be there with our children to comfort them and be comforted by them. This was our grandchild whom we loved and wanted to be near. We could only pray, and we did so fervently!
Sister Jensen and I were on a mission tour when we received word Quinton had died. We stood in the hallway of a meetinghouse and hugged and comforted each other. I witness to you that assurances came to us from the Holy Ghost, a peace which passes all understanding and continues to this day (see Philippians 4:7). We also witnessed the unspeakable gift of the Holy Ghost in the lives of our son and daughter-in-law and their children, who to this day speak of that time with such faith, peace, and comfort.

Several years ago, my wife, Shelly, and I were called to preside over the Washington DC North Mission. Shortly after we began our service in June 2019, local Church members Brent and Meg Pratt invited us and our five children over for dinner at their home in Potomac, Maryland. Brent and I happen to be distant cousins. Before we sat down to eat, Brent showed us a painting that he had commissioned from the talented Latter-day Saint artist Julie Rogers. The painting features our shared great-great-grandparents, William and Rachel Atkin, pulling a handcart with all their worldly belongings and two infant children across the fast-moving Green River in Wyoming.

This is how William Atkin later remembered that moment from August 1859:
We again labored in pulling our cart, and when we came to Green River, we found the [handcart] train had crossed and gone; and we were alone on its banks. We looked at the river, and I said to my wife, “We cannot cross this river alone.” She said, “No, but the Lord will help us over.” At these words, my heart seemed to leap for joy, and I said, “Yes, He surely will.” . . . [We] then knelt down on the ground, in all humbleness, and in the sincerity of our souls we told our Heavenly Father that we were doing all in our power to keep His commandments to gather to the land of Zion and now we had come to this river, and we could not cross it alone, and we knew that all power was in His hand, and we relied on Him to assist us over.

After pleading for help, William and Rachel then experienced a miracle:
We started into the stream, and as we did so we could see the deep water just ahead of us, and the next step we expected to step into the deep water, but when we took that step, the deep water was still ahead, and thus it was all the way across, and to our surprise we had not wet the axletree of our cart, and we were truly thankful to our Heavenly Father that we landed on the other bank in safety.

My great-great-grandparents’ difficult choices to accept the gospel in England, cross the Atlantic by ship, pull a handcart a thousand miles over rocky terrain, and remain faithful to their covenants in a new home profoundly changed generations of people. The decision by the Atkins to consecrate and gather with the Latter-day Saints, even if it meant crossing the Green River at their loneliest moment, made it possible for me, as their great-great-grandson, to be here today enjoying the blessings of the gospel.

One of the most pleasant and productive experiences in my life happened in 1943 as the Japanese war was taking place. I heard Dr. Adam S. Bennion give a lecture on the value of great literature. You can sell the idea of the value of great ideas to anyone. That is, we all believe that we should be acquainted with great human thought. But almost everyone gets away from its benefit by saying that he doesn’t have time to read. To get away from this objection of not having time, Dr. Bennion said, “Suppose that you were going to be a prisoner in a Japanese concentration camp for the next four years and you could take with you the works of any ten authors. Which would you take, and what would you expect to get out of them?” That is, what are the values of great ideas, of great literature? His idea was to take the ten authors you would most like to resemble and then exhaust each one in turn. That is, you would read every thought and consider every idea that a particular author had ever recorded; you would rethink his every idea. The psychologists say that when you run an idea through your brain, it makes a little groove or engram. If you run through your mind the kind of ideas that went through the mind of Shakespeare or Emerson or the apostle Paul or Moses or Jesus of Nazareth, then your brain will tend to respond as their brains did.
From someplace I got the courage to make the start. I guess Shakespeare comes fairly close to the top of most people’s lists of great authors. So I got out Shakespeare’s 37 plays, his sonnets, and his poems and went to work. Reading them was pretty difficult at first. I read very slowly and perhaps not very comprehendingly. Shakespeare wrote a long time ago, and there were many things that I did not understand. I had to reread some things several times, look up their meanings, and ask people about them. But finally the clouds began to part, a little bit of the sunlight began to come through, and I had a tremendous experience with Shakespeare. Shakespeare looked with clearer insight into human life than do most men. He said his purpose in writing was to hold the mirror up to life, to show virtue her own image and scorn her own likeness. He said, “I your looking-glass will be and will modestly discover to yourself qualities which you yourself know not of.” I had a great uplift as I read his speeches and his arguments for success. And as he pictured life in miniature with his great characters acting and reacting upon each other, I was intellectually born again—a great many times. Each time we discover some inspiring thought, we can be changed, and changed for the better.
I always read with my pen, marking every idea, every phrase, every quote, and every other thing that I think will help me. And then I put these thoughts into my notebooks. One of my most valuable possessions in the world is my collection of 25 notebooks. They are just regular 8 1/2-by-11-inch page size, three-ring binders, with about 300 pages in each one; so I have 7,500 pages of notes. I think of my reading as a combine harvester sweeping across a field of wheat. It cuts everything before it, but throws out the weeds and the chaff and the straw and puts the wheat in the sack. If I were now going to read something that would be particularly exciting to me, it wouldn’t be Shakespeare, it wouldn’t be Emerson, it wouldn’t even be the scriptures. It would be my notes, because I have selected for my notes those things that particularly inspire me.
I have always felt a little bit cheated in my life that no one has ever tried to talk me out of my faith. I have heard many people say that they got into the wrong crowd or listened to the wrong professor or were influenced by the wrong philosophy. But everywhere I have gone, people have encouraged me to live my religion. Once I thought that maybe I believed as I did just because I didn’t know any better, so I got the complete works of Robert G. Ingersoll. In my opinion Robert G. Ingersoll was the greatest atheist, if you could use that term, that ever lived in the world. I don’t know how convincing other people’s atheism is, but Robert G. Ingersoll was a great salesman. He was a great orator. He was a great architect of speech. He knew how to put ideas together. If anybody could persuade me about something, I think maybe it would have been Robert G. Ingersoll. His complete works are made up of 19,900 pages. There are 214 pages in my New Testament, so I read 90 new testaments of atheism. I didn’t read his works to try to out-argue him or to find fault with them. I read them actually to try to help him persuade me that there was something better than those things that I believed. I read him very carefully. I don’t skip read. I don’t jump over things or just read things that I think will be interesting. If something is important enough for him to write down, it is important enough for me to study and to try to find out the right answer to the subject discussed. And in all of my experiences in reading his work, he hasn’t shaken my faith in the smallest degree. Since that time I have read 987 of the great books, and I have had some tremendous experiences in a lot of different directions with what I have read. These great new philosophies have enabled me to have an “intellectual rebirth.”

Ketchikan, Alaska, is one of the larger towns in Alaska, but it would be a rather small town in most other states. The houses seem to hug the ocean shoreline along the bottom of the mountains. Virtually every street is uphill or downhill. Even though it is in Alaska, Ketchikan doesn’t get much snow in the winter, but it rains—a lot. If you live where you can see the water, then you can relax while you watch whales passing by. And, in the mornings, you have to be a little bit careful when you step outdoors. You might happen across an unhappy moose or a bear rummaging through your trash.
Ketchikan has one ward. The Church members meet in their unique all-wood building on Sundays, and, because the chapel is just a block or so from the high school, it is also one of the favorite spots for Latter-day Saint teens. It’s where they head every morning for seminary, once a week for Mutual and sports, maybe on Saturdays for service projects, and helping out with other ward activities.
And it is where they have learned the meaning of fasting.
Last year, just before school started, the priests of the Ketchikan Ward were having a lesson on fasting. They started discussing how much easier it was for them to fast with a purpose instead of feeling like they were just starving. Russell Youngberg said, “We realized that school was about to start and a fast Sunday was coming up, so we sort of put the two together. The entire ward youth would fast for each other to be able to resist temptations and have a good school year.”
Forrest Allred remembers how they came up with the idea. “We were talking about how to make the youth stronger and more righteous. We were confident that fasting would work.”
The bishop also thought it was a great idea. He invited the Young Women to join in. Amanda Youngberg said, “The bishopric came into the Young Women classes and asked if we wanted to participate in the fast. We all did it together.”
They planned for the first weekend of September. They started their fast individually on Saturday afternoon. For some, having a distinct reason helped. Kaitlyn Skinner said, “Our parents could join us in our fast, but since the youth were fasting together, it was easier for me.”
For others, fasting was not easy because of where they were. Russell Johnston was playing a football game in Anchorage. “For me it was kind of awkward. We got done with our game, and I started fasting. Since we were out of town, I had to go to restaurants with my buddies and watch them eat …”
He pauses and takes a breath, “… and listen to them hassle me about fasting. On the plane home, I was still fasting. They kept asking me, ‘Why do you have all those rules?’ ‘You can do what you want.’ ‘Why are you doing this?’ Sometimes it’s hard to explain why, but most of the time I knew what to say to them. In the end, my friends were saying to those who were harassing me, ‘Be quiet, at least he follows his religion.’ They stood up for me in the end.”
The next day, fast Sunday, all the youth met after fast and testimony meeting in the seminary room. Adam Fitzgerald, one of the priests who talked about the original idea, described what happened. “I remember feeling the Spirit really strong. We all knelt, which was hard to do because the room was very full. The bishop gave the prayer for us. I remember him talking about us having a good year and that we would become bonded to one another and resist temptations throughout the year and continue our growth and development. Personally, as he was saying those things, I knew that it was going to be that way.”
Learning the purpose of fasting starts with understanding its power. Perla Busch started fasting when she was about 10. She said, “My friends were asking me why I was doing this. I told them I feel like I needed to. I’m always having to explain why I choose to do something different.”
A relatively new member of the ward, Malia Dyakanoff, says, “Fasting is still hard for me, but when I have a reason to fast, then it’s easier.”
Sarah Fitzgerald, who has just entered Beehives, said, “The first time I ever tried fasting was a couple of days after my baptism. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.”
Sarah’s brother Adam explains what he has learned about the reasons to fast. “I think it helps you to focus more. It helps you become humble, and it’s a symbol of how devoted you are to what you’re doing. You know that Heavenly Father recognizes you and blesses you in your pursuits.”
Ryan Gray was on the student council at Ketchikan High School and noticed that the LDS students were more connected after their fast. “In this school, we’re small in number. We all have our own friends, but we’re all friends at the ward. We’ve got strength. Fasting for each other was a good way to start the year.”
Being in a small town, there aren’t a lot of things for young people to do. The LDS teens are blessed because they have Mutual, firesides, family home evenings, temple trips, and in the summer there are youth conferences and camps.
Perla says, “Teens who aren’t members get into smoking, drugs, and alcohol. They don’t have much else to do. But we find things to do.”
Even traveling to stake events is something to look forward to. Jenny Youngberg asks, “Do you know what we have to do to get to stake events like youth conference and girls’ camp?”
Since the only way in or out of Ketchikan is by plane or boat, Cortney Kiffer is quick to explain, “We have to take the ferry to Juneau. We get to spend all day and night with our friends and ward leaders on the ferry. It’s the best. When we travel for sports in high school, then we see kids we met at youth conference. It’s really fun to see them.”
Jenny adds, “Having to travel is not a bad thing. It’s awesome. We know the kids in the stake as well as we know kids in our own ward.”
This unity, these friendships, these positive choices are the very things the teens were fasting for.
Russell says, “I think our fast made a difference, at least it has to me. It seems whenever any member sees another member at school, we stop and talk on the way to class. It feels like there is a stronger bond in the youth group. As for the fast, my stomach did the same stuff as always when I fast, but we all had a purpose for fasting, and that made it a lot different.”
Fasting and prayer can help develop within us courage and confidence. It can strengthen our character and build self-restraint and discipline. Often when we fast, our righteous prayers and petitions have greater power. … Each time we fast, we gain a little more control over our worldly appetites and passions.”Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Ensign, May 2001, 73.

I remember the first time that I really recognized the Spirit teaching me a principle. I was on my mission and had been trying to understand a particular passage in the epistle to the Hebrews. I had been pondering it for a few days. While reading before going to sleep one night, I suddenly felt knowledge and intelligence flowing into me. It lasted about twenty seconds, and I was filled with joy. I remember getting up afterward and dancing around the room for a few minutes. Although the knowledge of the particular doctrine was nice, the real joy of the experience was feeling the love and the Spirit of the Lord with me. Each time we feel the Spirit in our lives, we are changed somewhat for the better. The Holy Ghost is not only a revelator but is also a sanctifier (see Alma 13:12).

The story is told of a man in a small village who because of his ingenuity and intelligence owned a very prosperous fish market. One day one of his customers came to him and said, "Everyone in our village knows that you are extremely bright and very successful. What is it that has made you so smart?" Without even pausing to reflect, the man replied, "It's the fishheads." "You mean," said the customer "that if I eat fishheads I'll be smarter?" "That's correct," said the shop owner. "How much do they cost?" asked the man. "They're $5.00 a head," said the owner. Wanting to grow smarter, the customer said, "give me three of them," and he placed $15.00 on the counter.

The next day the customer was back in the fish market. "I ate those fish heads," he said, "and not only were they terrible, but I don't feel any smarter." "You didn't eat enough of them," replied the shop owner. "How many do I need to eat?" asked the customer. "You need to eat at least ten of them," said the man. Thereupon, the customer put $50.00 on the counter and walked out of the shop with ten more fishheads.

The following day he was back. In disgust, he said that he had eaten all ten of those fishheads. "They were absolutely horrible," he said. "Why for that amount of money I could have bought ten entire large fish." "See," said the shop owner. "You're getting smarter already!"

Will you imagine something with me? Imagine that I have decided to present to a typical teenager a car such as this, and you are the one who has been chosen. On the evening of the presentation, I see that you are not quite financially able to run such a car, so I generously include free gas, oil, maintenance, tires, anything your car will use. I’ll give you all of this, and the bills will come to me.
How you will enjoy that car! Think of driving it to school tomorrow. Think of all the new friends you will suddenly acquire.
Your parents may be hesitant to let you use this car freely, so I will visit with them. I am sure they will be reluctant, but because of my position as one of the leaders of the Church, they will consent.
Let us imagine, then, that you have your car, everything to run it, and freedom to use it.
Suppose that one evening you are invited to attend a Church social. “There are just enough of you to ride in my station wagon,” your teacher says. “You may leave your car home.” When they come to take you to the party, you suddenly remember your new convertible, with the top down, parked at the curb. You run back in the house and give the car keys to your father, asking that he put it in the garage, for it looks as if it may rain. Your father, of course, obediently agrees.
Later you come home and notice your car is not at the curb. “Dear old Dad,” you muse, “always willing to help out.” But as the station wagon pulls into the driveway and the lights flash into the garage, you see it stands empty.
You rush into the house, find Father, and ask where your car is.
“Oh, I loaned it to someone,” he responds.
Then imagine a conversation such as this.
“Well, who was it?” you ask.
“Oh, that boy who comes by here regularly,” Dad says.
“What boy?”
“Oh, that … well, I have seen him pass here several times on his bicycle.”
“What is his name?”
“Well, I’m afraid I didn’t find out.”
“Where did he take the car?”
“That really wasn’t made clear.”
“When will he bring it back?”
“Well, there really wasn’t any agreement on that.”
Then suppose that your father should say to you, with some impatience, “Now you calm down. He rushed in here. He needed a car. You weren’t using it. He seemed to be in a frantic hurry over something, and he looked like an honest boy, so I gave him the keys. Now relax. Go to bed. Calm down.”
I suppose under the circumstances you would look at your father with a puzzled expression and wonder if some important connection had slipped loose in his thinking mechanism.
It would take a foolish father to lend such an expensive piece of equipment on an arrangement such as that—particularly a car that belonged to you.

The fourth thing I remember was when I was about nine years of age, our family had an experience that greatly impacted my understanding and feelings regarding the importance of the temple. My parents were called as temple workers to serve in the occasional Spanish sessions of the Mesa Temple. There were no "temple films" in those days and all the workers in the sessions had to speak the language of the session. My parents were both born and raised in Mexico and were fluent in both English and Spanish. That calling to serve in the temple created a serious problem for my parents.

There were four young children in the family, I being the oldest, and there was no money in the family budget to pay a babysitter. My parents had always believed that you never turn down a calling from the Lord, so they felt considerable anguish over this calling that would take them away from their four small children in the evenings. In prayer they pleaded with the Lord for guidance in this matter. About this time a neighbor came to them with a dog, a large male tri-colored collie, and offered them the dog. The neighbor explained that the dog was a very intelligent dog which had received extensive obedience training and had competed in dog show obedience trials.

The dog was a registered pedigreed tri-color collie. His official name was "Lucky Lad". We just called him Lucky. He was getting a bit old, but he loved children, and the neighbor thought our family would be a perfect environment for the dog to live out his "golden years." My parents saw this as an answer to their prayers regarding the temple calling and the budget shortfall for baby sitters.

So from that time forth, when my parents went to the temple in the evening, the four children of the Pratt family were left in care of a very intelligent tri-colored collie and a 9-year-old boy of questionable intelligence. I can tell you that dog was a very effective baby sitter. I remember an occasion when I got in an argument or fight with my next younger sister, in a flash old Lucky was between us and pushing me away. Lucky knew he was in charge. If ever anyone came to the door when Lucky was in charge, he was the one who decided whether they could be allowed into the home.

All of the Pratt children survived that experience. But most significantly we began to understand the extreme importance of the temple in our parents' lives and consequently in our own. Each of the Pratt children eventually married in the Mesa Arizona Temple.