Gospel Story Finder

Remember that Heavenly Father answers our prayers in the way that is best for us. It may not be the answer that we want, but it is always the right answer. I remember my Primary graduation. Back then, we wore bandalos (felt bands worn around the neck and that emblems and awards were attached to), and my Primary teacher told me that I needed to wear mine. I couldn’t find it! My mother told me to pray about it, so I knelt and asked Heavenly Father for help. I soon received my answer. The Spirit told me to look underneath my dresser drawer. When I reached up under it, I found my bandalo caught on a sliver of wood. I never would have looked there if I hadn’t prayed for help. We need to always remember that if we ask, we shall receive (see Matt. 7:7–8). If we ask Heavenly Father for guidance, the Spirit will whisper to us what we should do.

First, our love for God and accepting our role as the family leader in keeping His commandments. Some years ago, following a stake conference, I felt impressed to pay a visit to a priesthood brother who had fallen away from the Church. We found him working in his garden. I approached him and said, “Dear brother, the Lord Jesus Christ has sent me to see you. I am Elder Hammond, one of His servants.”
We exchanged a Latin abrazo and entered into his lovely little home. He called for his wife and three children to join us. Two handsome young men and a beautiful girl sat beside their father and mother. I asked the children what they would like, more than anything else in the world, right now. The oldest son spoke: “If only all of us could go back to church as a family, we would be so happy—so grateful.” We told them how much they were needed by the Savior and how He loved them. We bore our testimonies to them and then knelt in prayer. The father prayed. The mother wept. They are now back in full fellowship. The children are proud of their father, and they are happy.

When I was young, I always wanted everyone to feel included. If children on the playground were being picked on, I wanted to be their friend. I remember befriending one girl other children were mean to. Years later, after I was married, she was my neighbor. When I saw her, we happily greeted one another. I thought, “Look at her now. She’s a wonderful mother who serves well and works hard to teach her children.” I am so glad that when I was little I was nice to her. Then when I saw her again, I didn’t have any regrets. We were still friends.

1. Truman was racing around the dining room table when he saw Mom place an empty box on the kitchen counter and start to fill it with food.
What are you doing, Mom?
Thanksgiving is coming. I thought we could do service for another family by giving them food for a Thanksgiving dinner. Do you want to help?
Sure.
2. Truman ran to the pantry and found a box of stuffing mix.
Do you think they would want this?
Yes, I think they would be thankful for it. Go ahead and put it in.
3. Truman raced to the box and put the stuffing mix inside. Then he ran back to the pantry.
I’m going to be your super-fast helper, Mom.
That sounds great. Can you find some corn?
4. Truman quickly looked through the pantry and grabbed two cans of corn. He rushed back to the box and placed them inside. He was having fun helping as fast as he could. He put a lot of food in the box. Later, he even helped put a frozen turkey inside.
5. Now what are we going to do?
When it gets dark, Dad will take you to deliver the box.
Can we do it super fast?
Yes. Super fast.
6. When it got dark, Dad, Truman, and his older brother, Ethan, carried the box to the car. They drove for a couple of minutes until Dad parked down the street from the family’s house.
OK, guys. We’re going to put the box on the doorstep, knock on the door, and run.
Truman was excited about the running part.
7. Dad carried the box as Truman and Ethan walked quietly behind him. When Dad put the box down on the doorstep and knocked on the door, all three of them ran back to the car as fast as they could. Truman ran faster than ever.
8. As they drove away, Truman looked out the back window. He saw someone open the door, look around, and smile. He felt good about helping a family have a Thanksgiving dinner.
Do you think anybody saw us?
No way, Dad! We were super fast!

Once he took me camping, just the two of us. During the night there was this heavy thunder storm. It didn’t last long, but my sleeping bag got wet. His was dry because he’d remembered to put down a ground cloth. He told me to do it too when we set up camp, but I said it was too much bother. The reason I said that was because the sky was clear then.

Well, after the storm, and my sleeping bag was wet, he didn’t get mad and tell me it was my fault anyway for not putting down a ground cloth. Instead he got out of his sleeping bag and asked me to get in it instead. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said he thought he’d go build a fire and think.

I let him do it because I was too young to realize that it was only two thirty in the morning and nobody in their right mind goes out and sits by a fire for four hours in the middle of the night to think.

About that time I was waiting in a doctor’s office, and I noticed that the young lady seated next to me had opened a book with a blue cover. The book’s text was written in columns like the Bible. I was curious to know if it was the Bible, but I also wanted to get back to the comic book I had been reading.
I directed my eyes to the blue book and read a word at the top of the page: Alma. I made an effort to remember that name from my Bible reading, then went back to my comic book. But the blue book continued to attract me, and once again I directed my eyes to that mysterious book.
When the young lady noticed my interest, I asked if the book was the Bible. She answered no and asked me what church I belonged to. I told her none, because I didn’t know which one was true.
That night I couldn’t stop thinking about that strange book. I didn’t know its name, because the young lady had said only that it belonged to the Mormon Church. I told my friend Ghersi about it, and he offered to get me a copy. Several weeks went by, and then one afternoon he handed me a book without a cover and with worn pages. All he said was, “Here’s the book.”
That afternoon I opened the book and read the testimony of Joseph Smith. I felt that it was what I had wanted to know; the feeling became stronger when I read about the visit of the angel Moroni. Unable to contain my excitement, I arose from my chair and shouted, “This is what I was looking for! Here is the truth!” I read the first chapters of 1 Nephi very slowly. I felt that I understood them as I had never understood a book before.

“See you in a couple of weeks, Jaylee,” Dad said as he stopped the car in front of Mom’s house. He gave Jaylee a hug. “Love you.”
Jaylee hugged him tight. “Love you too, Dad. Bye.” She grabbed her duffel bag and walked slowly up the sidewalk. Then she turned and waved to Dad until his car disappeared around the corner.
Jaylee took her bag to her room and sat down on her bed. Her stepdad, Kyle, and her half-brother, Jesse, followed.
“How was your weekend?” Kyle asked.
“We went to a movie, and Dad helped me ride my bike,” Jaylee said.
Jesse ran over to Jaylee and put a toy car in her lap. “Jay-Jay, play cars!” he demanded.
“OK.” Jaylee didn’t really feel like playing, but she let him pull her by the hand to the toy box. She knew Jesse missed her when she was at her dad’s.
Soon Mom came home from visiting teaching. “Jaylee!” she said, hugging her. Jaylee hugged back but didn’t smile.
“Feeling sad again?” Mom asked.
Jaylee nodded. She couldn’t explain the heaviness that filled her whenever she came home from Dad’s. “I’m happy to see you guys,” she said, rolling a car over to Jesse. “I just … I don’t know. It’s hard too.”
Mom squeezed Jaylee’s hand. “I know you sometimes feel very sad about the divorce. One reason might be that you have two homes you want to be in and two sets of people you want to be with. It makes sense that you feel homesick for your dad.” She patted Jaylee’s hair. “You know, Kyle and I have been talking and praying about how to help you feel better, and we had an idea. Come with me.”
They walked down the hall to Mom’s room, and Mom pulled a small box out of her closet. Inside the box, Jaylee found a gold heart on a chain.
“It’s so pretty!” Jaylee said.
“The heart opens,” Mom said. She helped Jaylee open the heart so she could see two tiny pictures inside.
“It’s Dad on one side and me on the other,” Jaylee said.
“Yes,” Mom said. “You can wear the necklace whenever you feel lonely for him.”
“I get it,” Jaylee exclaimed. “It’s like he’s in my heart!”
“And you are in his heart too,” Mom said, fastening the locket around Jaylee’s neck.
That night as Jaylee knelt to pray, she held the locket open in one hand. She thanked Heavenly Father for her mom and her dad. Then she thought about her stepdad and stepmom; her cute brother, Jesse; her stepbrother, Spencer; and her baby half-sister, Vanessa. She thanked Heavenly Father for them too. As she prayed, her heart began to feel lighter.
After she finished her prayer, Jaylee carefully put the necklace back in its box. Then she smiled as she ran to hug Mom and Kyle good night.

But I often felt out of place at church because I was learning so many new things. I bought some new long skirts to replace my short ones. When I wore them to church, I found out they were still too short to meet Church standards. I didn’t understand what my friends meant when they used Church-related abbreviations. I was too nervous and shy to ask them the meanings of things.
What helped was the teens befriending me and taking time to include me. They seemed to have a natural way of caring for new members. Another thing that helped was visualizing my family in the next life. I never wanted them to be disappointed in me for not living the gospel when I knew it to be true. Even though times were difficult when I was a teenager, I tried to think of the future and my responsibility to my family. If I did not live the gospel, how would my family ever have a chance of accepting it?

The news was shocking, especially for parishioners in the church he left behind. “People talked about our conversion . . . with disbelief. [It was] the main topic in the street, the market and on public transport in those times!” Fetauai laughs. But the backlash was also fierce. “We had friends who turned into foes . . . in the village, [and] in our families.”
It was a difficult transition, but Fetauai now refers to those painful memories as the “forgotten experiences” because, he says, “after the raging storms against us calmly faded away, we finally saw the light of Christ, brighter than any other light shining into our lives.”

“In 1849, Chief Walker, the Ute Indian chief, met in council with President Brigham Young. He requested the Mormon leader to send colonists to settle on their land. Welcome and his family went to help settle the town of Manti in the Sanpete Valley.
“On July 27, 1854, Welcome was sustained as the Manti Stake president. That afternoon, as they were baptizing some settlers who had been converted, a large crowd gathered. Among them was Chief Walker and many of his people. Welcome asked the chief if any of his people would like to be baptized. The chief replied that he did not know but would ask them. That day many Indians were baptized there.”

Priscilla Sampson-Davis first met the missionaries in 1964 while living in Holland. Her husband rejected them, but Sister Sampson-Davis was interested and read the Book of Mormon. When the family returned to Ghana, she found Brother Johnson’s group studying the doctrines of the Church and became an active participant. Fourteen years later, she and her children were among the first to be baptized when the missionaries arrived in Ghana.

One Sunday after joining the Church, Sister Sampson-Davis saw a vision. It was as if she were at sacrament meeting. A person in white apparel stood in front of the stand, beckoning to her. “I came and stood by him. He asked me to turn around and look at the faces of the people to see if they were all enjoying the service. I saw that some of them had bowed their heads. He asked me why some of those people were not joining in the singing. I said, ‘Because they didn’t go to school and they can’t read English. They can’t sing, and that is the reason they bow their heads.’

“Then he said, ‘Wouldn’t you like to help your sisters and brothers who can’t read and who can’t join you in singing praises to Heavenly Father?’”

Even though she couldn’t write the language well, she replied, “I will try.”

The vision ended, and she immediately translated “Redeemer of Israel” into her native language. Sister Sampson-Davis went on to translate the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, the Pearl of Great Price, Gospel Principles, and various other Church materials. (These items are still in preparation.) In seeking approval to translate the Book of Mormon, Priscilla says:

“I discussed the translation with the mission president, and he asked me to continue. …

“I felt good as I translated the Book of Mormon. I knew the Lord wanted me to do it, because at times when I would use a certain word or a phrase, suddenly, as if somebody was standing behind me, I would hear, ‘No, use this word,’ or ‘No, not that word.’ I always had an eraser with me, because the Spirit was always teaching me.”

Christian loves soccer, but he loves the Lord and missionary work more. During his senior year of high school, he scored 17 goals and had 7 assists. His coach noticed Christian’s leadership skills and commitment to others: “He does all the things a good leader should do. He helps motivate his teammates. He works as hard as anyone I’ve ever seen, and he’s been blessed with a lot of talent. If there’s anybody whom younger guys can look to, he’s the example.” Christian also regularly took time to go with the missionaries in his area and noticed how much they cared about the people they were teaching.
When did you decide to serve a mission? I’ve wanted to serve a mission for as long as I can remember. Although it was tempting to accept the opportunity to play soccer in college, I knew the right thing for me was to decline the offer of a scholarship and serve a mission. I know greater things will come in the future because I chose missionary service.

“You won’t understand everything the first time, but always go back to the temple and keep learning more throughout your life.”
My bishop gave me this advice right before I received my endowment, and he was right! I’ll never forget the Spirit and the love I felt in the temple, but afterward, I quickly forgot a lot of it, and I wasn’t sure how to apply everything I had learned.
Which just made me want to keep going back to learn more.
Elder Robert D. Hales (1932–2017) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “Temples are the greatest university of learning known to man.”1
But how can we learn in the temple?
We all learn differently, so as we seek revelation, the Holy Ghost can teach us individually and make the temple a “house of learning” for each of us (Doctrine and Covenants 109:8).
Here are a few experiences that have shown me how personalized learning in the Lord’s house can be.
Temple preparation isn’t just a class we take before receiving our endowment. We can always prepare ourselves to learn before each visit.
Heavenly Father wants us to learn and to seek answers. We can pray for help, we can search the scriptures, and we can even fast or do family history work prior to our temple visit to better open our hearts to the knowledge that can be found there. President Russell M. Nelson said: “One may … read in the Old Testament and the books of Moses and Abraham in the Pearl of Great Price. Such a review of ancient scripture is even more enlightening after one is familiar with the temple endowment.”2
Before every temple visit, I try to have a question in mind about the gospel, about my life, or about the ordinances, and I ask Heavenly Father to help me recognize the voice of the Spirit to understand what He wants to teach me. Preparing beforehand always helps me invite a spirit of learning in the temple. And when we let go of the things of the world within the temple and seek to hear Him, we can open our hearts to the Spirit and learn in whatever ways He wants to teach us.
When I was getting married, I felt anxious. My family still chuckles at how I tapped my fingers on my knee (a nervous tick of mine) as the temple sealer spoke to us. I wasn’t afraid to marry my husband—I loved him! But I was worried about the future because I was making such an important covenant. I silently prayed when I entered the temple to know what I could do to keep our marriage strong in a world that was growing increasingly turbulent.
A few moments later, the temple sealer told my husband and me to remember that every ordinance in the temple points us to Jesus Christ. The Spirit helped me recognize this message as an answer from Heavenly Father, and the temple sealer’s words deepened my testimony that as my husband and I consistently turned to the Savior, especially through temple work, we could strengthen our marriage through eternity.
This experience reminded me that Heavenly Father cares about the questions in our hearts and can provide comforting wisdom to us in the temple in personal ways. As President Ezra Taft Benson (1899–1994) taught: “When I have been weighed down by a problem or a difficulty, I have gone to the House of the Lord with a prayer in my heart for answers. These answers have come in clear and unmistakable ways.”3
During one temple visit in a particularly busy time in my life, my mind was elsewhere, and I was in a hurry to do the ordinances and be on my way. But a kind temple worker quietly suggested that when we slow down and consider the sacred work we are doing, we can feel the profound Spirit that resides only in the Lord’s house. I believe that temple worker was prompted to help me understand a truth. And I was reminded of how we can receive knowledge from so many different sources in the temple. I have received revelation in the temple by silently praying, searching the scriptures in waiting areas, meditating on the words of the ordinances, and, yes, even talking with inspired temple workers.
As we learn in the temple, we might receive an increased understanding of ordinances and covenants, a deepened testimony, promptings, feelings of comfort, and more. Heavenly Father wants us to have personal learning experiences in the temple and to be open to the many ways we can receive knowledge in His house.
I still have so much to learn about temple ordinances and the power that comes from keeping my covenants. But I’m so grateful that I can continue to keep learning throughout my life.
As we prioritize our time in the temple and set aside moments to reflect on our covenants, we will open the door to knowledge that can help us stay on the path to Christ. That has been true for me as I have returned again and again to learn in the Lord’s way in His holy house.

On the second day of our visit, Sunday, President Otay authorized Brother Yefi to conduct regular church services in his home, except when the family journeys to Puerta Varas to pay tithing to the bishop.
We joined the Yefis, with their relatives, in Sunday School and sacrament service—eighteen members altogether.
Brother Yefi taught a lesson from the book of Moroni. As he read from chapters six and seven about baptisms, fellowshipping and preaching by the power of the Holy Ghost, tears rolled down our checks.
When the lesson was finished, we sang a hymn. Even without a piano or a knowledge of music, the Yefi family sang with a spirit that compensated for any wrong notes. Then Brother Yefi asked the visitors to speak.
When it was my turn to speak, I told them, “I realize that you are eager to learn from anything I might say, but I can assure you that from this visit I have learned more from you than what you can learn from me.”
As I told the Yefi family good-by later that day, I thought about the lessons I had learned from them. I learned about being faithful to the Lord in every circumstance. I learned that although a great distance separated the Yefis from the church meetinghouse, there was no distance between them and the Lord. Many of us who have dozens of neighbors around us do not share the gospel, yet the Yefis have taught, fellowshipped, and baptized their nearest neighbors and relatives.
From the Yefis, I learned about making the temple a priority. Many of us who have relatively easy access to a temple make one excuse after another for not attending. The Yefis have already traveled a great distance to Santiago to be sealed in the temple. And whenever they can make the journey to that city, the temple is their first priority.
I left the beautiful El Callao Valley strengthened in my own testimony of the gospel and in my commitment to obey the Lord. The Yefis’ influence for good has reached beyond the isolation of their mountain home.

Some years ago a young “Korean boy took his weekly allowance and bought newspapers with it. Then he and some friends sold these on the streets of Seoul, Korea, to raise money to help a fellow student who did not have sufficient funds to stay in school. This young man also gave part of his lunch to this boy each day so that he would not go hungry. Why did he do these things? Because he had been studying the story of the Good Samaritan and didn’t just want to learn about the Good Samaritan but wanted to know what it felt like to be one by doing what a Good Samaritan would do. … Only after careful questioning by his father about his activities” did he admit, “But, Dad, every time I help my friend, I feel I’m becoming more like the Good Samaritan. Besides that, I want to help my classmates who aren’t as fortunate as I. It’s not that big of a thing I am doing. I read about it in my seminary manual and felt it was the thing I ought to do.” The boy did not ask, “What’s in it for me?” before performing this kindness. In fact, he did it without any thought of recompense or recognition.

When I was a very small boy, my father found a lamb all alone out in the desert. The herd of sheep to which its mother belonged had moved on, and somehow the lamb got separated from its mother, and the shepherd must not have known that it was lost. Because it could not survive alone in the desert, my father picked it up and brought it home. To have left the lamb there would have meant certain death, either by falling prey to the coyotes or by starvation because it was so young that it still needed milk. Some sheepmen call these lambs “bummers.” My father gave the lamb to me and I became its shepherd.
For several weeks I warmed cow’s milk in a baby’s bottle and fed the lamb. We became fast friends. I called him Nigh—why I don’t remember. It began to grow. My lamb and I would play on the lawn. Sometimes we would lie together on the grass and I would lay my head on its soft, woolly side and look up at the blue sky and the white billowing clouds. I did not lock my lamb up during the day. It would not run away. It soon learned to eat grass. I could call my lamb from anywhere in the yard by just imitating as best I could the bleating sound of a sheep: Baa. Baa.
One night there came a terrible storm. I forgot to put my lamb in the barn that night as I should have done. I went to bed. My little friend was frightened in the storm, and I could hear it bleating. I knew that I should help my pet, but I wanted to stay safe, warm, and dry in my bed. I didn’t get up as I should have done. The next morning I went out to find my lamb dead. A dog had also heard its bleating cry and killed it. My heart was broken. I had not been a good shepherd or steward of that which my father had entrusted to me. My father said, “Son, couldn’t I trust you to take care of just one lamb?” My father’s remark hurt me more than losing my woolly friend. I resolved that day, as a little boy, that I would try never again to neglect my stewardship as a shepherd if I were ever placed in that position again. …
After more than sixty years, I can still hear in my mind the bleating, frightened cry of the lamb of my boyhood that I did not shepherd as I should have. I can also remember the loving rebuke of my father: “Son, couldn’t I trust you to take care of just one lamb?” If we are not good shepherds, I wonder how we will feel in the eternities.

The work and privation were intensified for the entire family when Brigham’s mother died of tuberculosis in his 14th year. The father soon after moved to a new homestead on 100 acres of timber 15 miles from any settlement and was sometimes away working or getting supplies in the nearest towns. At these times the children were left to clear land and care for the maple trees by themselves. Brigham’s younger brother, who was named after the great Methodist preacher, Lorenzo Dow, recalls that one time when he and Brigham were left alone for a few days while their father went for food, they were famished from living only on the insubstantial maple sugar. Brigham finally shot a robin that lit near the house, and while it was cooking, they managed to thump a few spoonfuls of flour out of the cracks of the empty flour barrel and thus “thickened the broth.”7 The grimness of such an existence was intensified by the father’s continuing insistence that the children not indulge in any amusements. Brigham remembers that his brother Joseph, older by four years, seemed never to smile “during some four or five years.”8

For over three months we had rehearsed dances and songs for “The Heart of Texas,” a jubilee celebrating the dedication of the San Antonio Texas Temple. Now the day had finally come, and we seemed to be getting worse at the polka! About five minutes before the jubilee was to start, I told my friend Emily and our partners, Jared and Preston, that I thought we should pray for help. We did, and we made only one tiny mistake in the dance. I said many prayers of gratitude during the rest of the night.

I had respect for all the doctrine and for the priesthood. Because I couldn’t hold the priesthood at that time, people often asked me, “What about the priesthood?” I told them that I had complete acceptance of it.
During the cornerstone laying of the São Paulo Temple, President Spencer W. Kimball motioned for me to come to him. I looked around to see whom he was looking at. He repeated the gesture. I did not understand. Elder James E. Faust looked at me and mouthed, “Come here. He wants to talk to you.” I went. President Kimball shook my hand and took hold of my arm and said, “Brother, what is necessary for you is faithfulness. Remain faithful, and you will enjoy all the blessings of the Church.”
A little more than a year later, in June 1978, we received a telephone call from a friend in Salt Lake City, Utah, telling us that President Kimball had announced the revelation* that all worthy males could hold the priesthood. I shall not forget that day. My wife cried. I cried. We knelt to thank our Heavenly Father. After that, the phone rang many, many times. Friends from the United States and Brazil called us.
The hand of the Lord is resting upon Brazil. It is a special country. We have many challenges, but we have a very special people who are friendly and accepting of the missionaries’ message.

“May I see you a moment, sir?” The shabby naval officer opened his eyes wide in surprise at the young man who had called to him. One reason for his surprise was that the boy was tall and healthy—a rare sight aboard the prison ship Jersey. The Jersey, anchored off Long Island, was the terror of American seamen during the American Revolution.
Another reason for the officer’s surprise was that the young man was black. The British usually sold black prisoners-of-war as slaves in the West Indies rather than hold them prisoner.
“What can I do for you?” the officer asked curiously. “I’m due to get off this old hulk tomorrow morning. I’ve some arrangements to make.”
“That’s what I wanted to see you about,” James Forten replied. “Do you need help carrying your things to the American ship tomorrow? I’m one of the few able-bodied sailors left on this ship, and I’m willing to work.”
The officer smiled. “Yes, I could use some help. I’ve a heavy sea chest and some other things.” He paused. “But I have nothing to give you in return for your help.”
“Oh, but you do, sir.” The young man glanced cautiously around him. “I want to escape,” he whispered, “hidden in your sea chest.”
The officer stared. No one escaped from the Jersey unless he were wrapped in a shroud and buried at sea. “All right! You may use the sea chest. But you’re on your own. I can’t be caught helping anyone escape. I’d hang for it.”
“Leave it to me, sir,” the boy answered. The light in his eyes shone even brighter than before.
The officer turned to go below. Then he looked back. “Good luck to you,” he whispered.
Just then Commander Sproat appeared. “I’ll have no idle chatter aboard this craft!” he snarled at James. “Get below and check for bodies. Bring up any sick men you find.”
All the men hated David Sproat. Under his tyranny, more than eleven thousand men died during the three years the Jersey was used as a floating prison.
The tall black boy disappeared below deck. Sproat scowled. There was too much zest in the fellow’s stride for his liking.
James Forten had been fifteen years old when he enlisted on the privateer Royal Louis as a powder boy in 1781. His job was to fetch gunpowder for the cannons as they were fired in battle. After several successful raids on British ships, the privateer was captured by the British warship Amphyon. The British captain was so impressed with James’s intelligence and warm personality that he offered James a comfortable life in England for the duration of the war.
But James told him, “I cannot be a traitor to my country.”
James had then been placed on the Jersey. It was a fate preferable to slavery, James felt. At least on the Jersey he might have a chance of returning to his home in Philadelphia. Now the opportunity he had been waiting for had arisen.
James searched the hold of the wretched ship for men who had not survived the night. To his relief, there were none. Then, looking for sick men to help to the deck, he found his friend Daniel Brewton, former ship’s boy on the Royal Louis.
In the sunlight on deck, James saw that Daniel’s eyes were glazed. His body was covered with sores, and his sunken face was pale. With a horrible feeling, James realized that Daniel was dying. Unless …
James tried to thrust the thought from him. He’d made his plans. He would not spend another night on the Jersey!
“James,” Daniel whispered. “Would you get me some water?”
James scooped up a dipperful of the thick, almost-green water from its cask. Daniel choked down the liquid and lay down again with a shudder.
The next morning, Daniel Brewton escaped in the officer’s sea chest and returned to his home in Philadelphia to recover. James was finally released from the Jersey almost three months later. Although he was weak, he made his way on foot back to Philadelphia. He went to work for the sailmaker, Robert Bridges, who had employed James’s father for many years. Two years later, when he was only twenty-two, James was supervising twenty black and twenty white employees. He was known for his fairness and generosity to all. Later, Bridges sold his sail loft to James Forten, and he became one of the most successful and respected businessmen in Philadelphia.
Forten fought for equal job opportunities and equal citizenship for blacks in the United States. Even though he amassed a large fortune during his lifetime, at the time of his death, only a fraction of it remained. Most of it had been used for buying the freedom of many slaves and for the struggle for equal rights. He wrote eloquent pamphlets and made moving speeches against unfair laws and practices.
When James Forten died in 1842, he had earned his place in history for helping not just his country but all mankind.