Gospel Story Finder

Walnetta Broederlow McCall was only nine years old when a missionary asked if anyone could play piano for their fledgling congregation. “I gingerly put up my hand!” she recalls. The missionary, Elder Charles W. Ashman, was not deterred by her age or inexperience. He gave Walnetta hymns to practice, and the following week, she became the pianist for their meetings.
Over the years, Walnetta has served in many other callings and enjoyed those experiences too. Today, she feels just as privileged to provide prelude music in her current Taupo Ward, to invite the Holy Spirit and set a reverent tone for their sacrament meetings. Reflecting on her love for her calling, she is so grateful for the gift that Elder Ashman gave her all those years ago when he asked for a volunteer pianist. “His invitation to play for our meetings and [his] confidence in me has blessed my life,” she says.

One of the most dramatic examples of God's patience with our mistakes and His hope for our growth is when Joseph Smith lost the 116 pages. You all know that when Joseph asked if Martin Harris could take the pages, God told him no. He told him no several times. Finally, God let them have their way, with strong warnings about keeping the pages secure. Well, Martin lost the pages. When Joseph heard the news, he cried out in great agony: "All is lost! All is lost! What shall I do? I have sinned-it is I who tempted the wrath of God. I should have been satisfied with the first answer which I received from the Lord; for he told me that it was not safe to let the writing go out of my possession."[14]

Imagine how Joseph felt when he learned that God had foreseen his mistake. Keith R. Perkins writes, "The Lord had anticipated this event by at least twenty-four hundred years; many prophets had labored in part so that Joseph could repent and continue his work of translation. I know of no other example that shows better the Lord's foreknowledge and his love for us as individuals."

"The Lord had commanded Nephi to make two separate records: the large plates, primarily a political history, and the small plates, a religious history, 'for a wise purpose in him, which purpose I know not.' (1 Ne. 9:5; emphasis added.) Mormon was surprised to find the small plates of Nephi as he was abridging the records, but he, like Nephi, was impressed to keep the small plates separate, even though he did not know why. 'And I do this for a wise purpose; for thus it whispereth me, according to the workings of the Spirit of the Lord which is in me. ... The Lord knoweth all things which are to come; wherefore, he worketh in me to do according to his will.' (W. of M. 1:7; emphasis added.)

"Two separate records had been kept by the prophets for almost five hundred years, not only so that the Lord's covenant with Nephi, Jacob, Enos, and others could be fulfilled, but also because of the Lord's great love for Joseph Smith. The existence of the second record made it possible for the Prophet to 'repent of that which thou hast done which is contrary to the commandment' of God. (D&C 3:10.)"

This experience lasted for three months. Joseph gave the manuscript to Martin Harris on June 14, 1828. He was not able to resume translating until September 22, at which point the angel Moroni returned the Urim and Thummim to him. His mother reports Joseph's words: "The angel seemed pleased with me, and he told me that the Lord loved me for my faithfulness and humility." Think of what Joseph learned from this experience, although it temporarily halted the progress of translating the Book of Mormon.

Originally, our plans called for my return to teaching at a school in the western United States after completing my studies at Cornell University, in New York. But, to our surprise, the opportunity came for me to use my wildlife management training in the Arabian Gulf countries—first in Bahrain, and later in Dubai.
The ancient sport of falconry—hunting of birds and small animals with trained falcons—is still practiced on the Arabian Peninsula. In 1976, His Highness Sheikh Hamed ben Isa Al Khalifa, the Crown Prince of Bahrain, was looking for ways to combine the captive breeding of falcons with modern management techniques. He learned of my doctoral work on falcons, and that led to the job offer I received.
Bahrain is not a large oil producer, but it was there, in 1932, that oil was first discovered in Arabia. Rulers of the country have wisely used the resulting wealth to improve the lives of their people. Still, the contrasts are dramatic. Stopped at a traffic light one day on my way to a church meeting, I inspected the luxurious automobile just ahead of me while a cart donkey scratched his head on the back of my car.
The Bahrainis are well-grounded in modern life, yet the teachings of Islam play a major role in all aspects of their daily living. They are a friendly and gentle people, convinced that God is close by and aware of their needs.
Amid all that seemed different to us in Bahrain—the veiled women, open-air markets, and richness and luxury contrasting with the ancient life-style of the desert—we found the warm familiarity of fellow Latter-day Saints. With three other western families, we were part of a group of eight adults and eight children who held Church weekly meetings. Services are held on Friday in Muslim countries because that day is their Sabbath; Sunday is simply the second day of a six-day work week.
The group in Bahrain was organized into a branch in 1978, with Brother Sidney MaGill, a native of New Mexico, as the first branch president. With the arrival of other Latter-day Saints, it has since grown to thirty-five members.
After more than five years in Bahrain, my wife and I felt I had accomplished all I could at the falcon breeding center I had established there. We were thinking of returning to the United States when a similar position opened up in Dubai, one of the United Arab Emirates farther down the Arabian Peninsula. My employer wished me well and told me warmly, “We will consider you a Bahraini export and send you to Dubai.”
The position at the Dubai Wildlife Research Centre, as wildlife consultant to His Highness Sheikh Mohamad bin Rashid Al Maktoum, has given me the professional opportunity to do research on a much broader range of animals.
Unlike Bahrain, Dubai has only recently grown rich on oil, and in amounts of money difficult to imagine. Streets that were not even paved in 1968 are now lined with palaces and bordered with miles of shrubs and flowers grown with water distilled from the sea.
But the old ways are not forgotten; the sheikhs are still in touch with the people. Several times a week, my employer hosts a luncheon for anywhere from twenty to fifty men who have need to see him. We sit on the floor and eat with our hands. Some of the guests are bedouin herdsmen; others are merchants owning millions. All dress alike, and all are shown the same great courtesy. The sheikh’s guests may come to ask for help with their problems, to ask a favor, or simply to express their loyalty.
In 1982, when we arrived in Dubai, no Latter-day Saint services were being held. We found three Latter-day Saints there: a sister from the United States and two Filipino brethren. Sacrament meetings began in our living room. Our children used to say that for a year they didn’t go to church—church came to us!
Within eighteen months, however, new move-ins helped our branch membership grow to twenty-four; and by 1985, the small branch had grown to thirty-six. We rent space in the American school for meetings. Our branch offers the full program of the Church for our age groups, including early morning seminary.
Leaders of the Arab countries in which we have lived recognize the need of workers from other nations to worship in their own way. But proselyting was not tolerated. There are occasional converts, however—nonmember spouses from western workers’ part-member families. The waters of the Persian Gulf, which welcomed the ships of Alexander the Great and other ancient mariners, are the baptismal font for these people and for the children in our branch.
Our two oldest children, Catharine and Andrew, moved with us to Bahrain in 1976 when they were small. We have since added to our family Eric Alkhalifa, born in Bahrain, and Sarah Elisabeth, born in the United Arab Emirates.
Socially, life on this peninsula has both drawbacks and advantages for our family. Women from other cultures feel fewer restrictions in Dubai than in some other countries on the peninsula, but, true to Muslim tradition, most native-born women do not mingle freely in mixed company. While this might seem restrictive in some western societies, it is not seen so by these women. The traditional Muslim family system is strong. It works very well for them, but it also limits the opportunity for foreigners to know Arab families well.
Members of the Church generally make friends with the many other foreign families in these Arab countries. (Only a small percentage of the workers in technical jobs are natives.) The ten children who attended our son Andrew’s last birthday party, for example, were citizens of eight different nations.
There are challenges to Church members here. Because of the six-day work week, for example, those who enjoy recreational opportunities—like diving in the gulf—must decide whether to give up their pleasures on our Sabbath.
For our children (and for us), there is the challenge of affluence among their associates. Catharine was one of eighty girls chosen to attend, at no cost, a private school on the palace grounds. It was built by the crown prince, who wanted his daughters to have a western education. It is staffed by teachers from England, and it operates much like any other private school—except for the month-long field trip to Europe by private jet.
In some ways, however, members here are sheltered from many evils of the world. Leaders of these Arab countries will not accept any activity that threatens Islam or the faith of its believers. For example, drug and alcohol abuse, pornography, and immodesty are strictly controlled because they are offensive to Muslim beliefs. While laws forbidding these things may seem restrictive to some, we enjoy the freedoms they provide. We adults do not have to contend with ugly influences, and we can feel confident that our children are not coming in contact with them in their schools.
Latter-day Saints and other foreign workers living in the countries of the Arabian Peninsula find their lives affected daily by the teachings of Islam. Television and other activities are interrupted during the afternoons and evenings for the call to prayers. Public gatherings begin with readings from the Koran. This book, believed by Muslims to be revelation given to the Prophet Muhammad, is the basis for all the laws in the countries of this region and contains specific guidelines for daily life.
Hospitality is one of the fundamental principles of Islam. In social or business contacts, an Arab will express sincere concern for his guests and expect them to share his proffered coffee or tea. This courtesy has allowed me to explain the Word of Wisdom to Arab men—from the king of Saudi Arabia in his palace to camel herdsmen around their camp fires. They accept my belief without offense because it is similar to their health code, which requires abstinence from pork and alcohol. Strict Muslims also do not smoke.
Once, at the request of my employer, I accompanied him on a visit to the ruler of another Muslim country. We were part of a small group of sheikhs and government officials. We dined at the palace and were flown to the ruler’s private retreat. During one of the meals, several of the Muslims ordered wine. When I declined, someone joked about my becoming a Muslim, so I explained that I don’t drink because of my religious beliefs. Their consciences pricked, two of the men urged me to join with them. His Highness, the crown prince of Bahrain—my employer at the time—silenced them, and, turning to me, said, “Joe, don’t ever change.” I have always been thankful for my employer’s appreciation of my faith.
Church members who find themselves living as guests in a foreign culture—a small minority of the population, far from the familiar things of home—might easily feel lost and alone. But the Church is almost always there. With or without a family, it will be comforting to remember that the love of our Father in Heaven, the effectiveness of gospel principles, and the ministrations of the Holy Ghost are not limited by the size of the group at worship or by the design of its surroundings. When you strive to make a chapel of your home, the Spirit will be there.

At first, Kendra was against Kevin’s interest in the Church. Now they look back and see how the Lord guided them both to the gospel.
Leslie Nilsson, photographer
Kevin:
I met Gregory while working at the Veterans Administration hospital. One day we were talking when someone came over and asked Gregory if he was a Mormon. From there, they began comparing the Bible and the Book of Mormon. Something struck me as they talked. It made me curious.
When I got home, I asked Kendra if she knew anything about the Mormons.
“You better not believe anything about that,” she told me.
I was still curious and excited to return to work the next day and learn more. As we talked, Gregory asked me if I believed that my spirit existed prior to this life. The question really penetrated me. I had never thought if it before.
“Well, if I have to guess, I would say yes,” I said.
“There’s so much more knowledge that Heavenly Father has in store for all His children,” Gregory told me.
I talked to Kendra about what I had learned, but she was against it. She told me that she and the kids would never step foot in “that” church. I became very defensive, which was weird. I was defending something that I knew nothing about.
One night I dropped Kendra off at a friend’s house, and I went to see my dad. He is a deacon in another church, so I was scared to ask him if he knew anything about the Church.
He said, “I heard something about their priesthood not being allowed to black people, but you’re a good man. Pray about it, and God will let you know.”
That night, I got on my knees to pray, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. Well, I’m on my knees, I thought. I’ve got to say something! So I just said, “Dear Heavenly Father, I love you.”
I was restless that night. I tossed and turned. I desired something—it was almost like I had a craving. I woke up that morning and hoped Gregory wouldn’t say anything more about the Church. I was confused about all that was going on. I also didn’t want this to cause me to lose my marriage. But certain things would spark my interest, and I’d ask Gregory questions. Little by little, I learned more about the Church.
Kendra and I continued to argue. During one argument, I felt a prompting to not say anything. I went into the bathroom and fell to my knees.
I told Heavenly Father that I would do anything if He would let me know the path He wanted me to take. When I thought about baptism, I felt this rush, like the wind, come over me. It was the Holy Ghost telling me, “This is what you must do.”
I was ready to be baptized. The next morning, I went to work and shared my experience with Gregory. I said, “I’m ready, man.”
He arranged for me to meet with the missionaries. They taught me the lessons, and it went well and really fast! I never questioned anything. I knew that the Prophet Joseph Smith saw what he saw. I had a testimony. But this just drove Kendra further and further away.
Kendra:
I was so mentally, physically, and spiritually exhausted. I actually moved to Florida for a few months. One day I just cried out to God, “I’m tired of the arguing. Please help me figure out if this Church is right.”
As I prayed, peace came to me. Once I came back to North Carolina, I didn’t have all the negative energy I had before. I used to leave the room when the missionaries came, but after this experience, I started interacting with them and cooking dinner for them. But I still wasn’t ready to go to church with Kevin.
I started searching for another church that my children would be interested in, but no matter how good a church was, my daughter, Aryanna, would say, “I want to go to church with Daddy!” We eventually agreed to go one Sunday to Kevin’s church, and the next Sunday we’d find another church.
Later on, a friend I made in the ward texted me and asked if I wanted to sing in the choir for a stake conference. Why does she want me to sing? I thought. I’m not a member. I kept battling it, but finally I said, “Sure, I’ll do it.”
It wasn’t like singing in other churches where there’s a band, it’s loud, and it feels like you’re at a concert. We sang “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” The words of the hymn and the sweet sound of the music really touched me.
Kevin:
A few months later, we were sitting in fast and testimony meeting, and Kendra said to me, “I think you should go up and share your testimony about prayer because of what it did for Dad.”
Kendra’s stepdad had just had a massive heart attack. We called on the ward to pray for him and our family during that time. Thankfully, he pulled through.
“I think you should do it,” I said. She got up and bore her testimony. It was so amazing. After this, things just started to unfold for her.
Kendra:
At the beginning of 2018, I kept hearing the name “President Monson.” At this time, I didn’t know this was the prophet. One night the missionaries came over and asked how I was doing.
“I’m doing fine,” I said, “but a person’s name keeps coming to my head, and I don’t know who it is.”
“What’s the name?” They asked.
“President Monson.”
“Kendra, that’s not just any name,” they said. “That’s the name of the prophet who just passed away. You should look at some talks he gave and see what the Lord wants you to learn from him.” I looked at some of his messages, and they were really touching and helped me. From there, it just seemed that the gospel kept coming back to me.
When we would go out to eat before, I would usually order a sweet tea, but Kevin would say, “You don’t need a sweet tea; get something else.”
One day I went to a fast food restaurant for my lunch break and ordered a sweet tea. A few minutes later, an employee said, “At the very moment you ordered a sweet tea, the machine broke.”
She said it would take about an hour to fix the machine. I only had 30 minutes for lunch. I just ordered a soda instead. At that point I laughed and said, “All right, I get it now!”
I wanted to join the Church, but I also didn’t want to make my mom mad. My mom played a big role in my decisions while I was growing up. She was a minister, so I constantly listened to her instead of going to church and learning for myself.
I was a little hesitant when we set a date for my baptism. The missionaries came over, and we talked about it.
Finally, I asked my daughter, Aryanna, “Do you want to be baptized?”
She said, “Mom, I’m ready whenever you are.”
She told me that when she went to church, all the girls ran and greeted her. They took her to Primary classes and were always friendly. They wanted her to be part of things. She became really good friends with one of the girls. That’s what she enjoyed about it.
At Aryanna’s baptism, she cried tears of joy. When I saw her, I thought, I’m where I need to be.
Kevin:
I know Heavenly Father brought the gospel to our family because He loves and cares about us so much.

Zavannah Vaaulu and Keri Robinson are walking from class. They’re also in the familiar yellow and blue colors of the Church College’s uniforms. When you begin talking to Zavannah and Keri, you notice right away that their friendship resembles Justina and Melinda’s. The fact all four are friends isn’t surprising.
Although Zavannah and Keri aren’t busy growing bacteria, Zavannah, at 14, and Keri, at 15, are also top netball players and members of the Church College’s intermediate school championship team. They take many of the same classes together, they both play the saxophone, and they, too, are in the Apia Fifth Ward. And if you see Keri, you can usually find Zavannah nearby. Keri is usually the one laughing, while Zavannah tends to be a little more serious. While Zavannah is a lifelong Church member, Keri was baptized less than a year ago.
“Keri’s also the better saxophone player,” Zavannah says.
“Yeah, but Zavannah is better at tennis,” says Keri.
The words volley back and forth until Keri talks about her baptism last August. Now it’s her turn to get serious as she talks about Zavannah’s friendship and influence.
“Zavannah kept bugging me to come to church,” Keri says, “She always helped me come to church. She always invited me to Church activities. She wanted me to see how fun it would be. It really has been.”
When asked about her role in helping Keri join the Church, Zavannah starts by saying, “I do feel a certain responsibility.” Then Keri finishes Zavannah’s sentence with “to set an example for Keri.”
They look at each other and start laughing. They spend so much time together that they seem to know what the other is thinking. As they both sit there, Zavannah makes sure Keri knows a little bit more of what she’s thinking.
“I just want [Keri] to be happy the way I am because of the Church. I want her to know the true meaning of happiness is in the gospel, something I’ve come to learn and appreciate.”
Zavannah’s voice trails off, and it suddenly gets very quiet.
It’s been five days since you first met Justina, Melinda, Zavannah, and Keri. Here’s what you know: They’re like girls anywhere in the world. They love to laugh, talk about boys, eat pizza, and play sports.
But when it comes to these four young women, this is what you really know. They’re devoted friends and very serious about the gospel. They help each other and want to see each other’s testimonies grow.
“Some days I have doubts about the Church, and then I look at Melinda and I see her and see how happy she is. It makes me want to be like her,” says Keri.
“And I guess I’ve been pretty lucky because Tina has been like an older sister to me. Melinda and Tina have been some of the best friends I’ve ever had. They give me advice, and just seeing what they do is very helpful,” explains Zavannah.
It’s quiet again, and this time you’re touched by the things they say. You’ve learned a lot about friendships and about them.
Later that day you’re standing on the grounds of the Church College of Western Samoa. It’s bright and sunny in Apia. A warm breeze is blowing off the ocean, and another day of school is over. Students are all going in different directions. But four girls are walking together, and you know why.

Eva liked nursery. She liked her teachers and singing time. Her favorite song was “Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam.” But now it was time for Eva to go to Primary. Many children were in the Primary room. A teacher said, “Hello, Eva! I am Sister Moya. I am glad you are in our Sunbeam class!” Eva smiled. She liked being a sunbeam. The piano started playing. Eva knew the song! She sang, “Jesus wants me for a sunbeam.” Eva knew she would like being a Sunbeam in Primary.

I enjoy playing football and have always dreamed of playing on a team. This past season I worked hard and earned a first-string spot on both offense and defense on my fourth-grade team. We had a great team and an undefeated season. We were going to the championship playoffs! After a week of getting ready for the playoffs, my coach announced after the last practice that the first game would be on Sunday. I knew immediately that I would not play. I told my coach, and he asked my mom if I couldn’t play since it was an important game. My mom explained our beliefs about the Sabbath day but said she would leave the choice up to me. I told my coach again that I would not play. My team won the game without me, so I was able to play in the championship game on Saturday, which we won! It felt great to win the championship, but it felt even better to keep the Sabbath day holy.

My mother raised us with traditional Christian values. I grew up believing in God and Jesus, and I loved the moments when I felt the Spirit. But for several reasons, religion did not resonate with me as a young adult. I decided that I was going to be a good person—the best that I could be—without any formal worship of God. I stopped reading the scriptures and praying regularly. Thus began my ten years of spiritual decline.

During those ten years, I chose a challenging marital situation. We are both good individuals; we were not a good team. We were married for nine years and had two wonderful children before the marriage ended.

Divorce is brutal; it is heartbreaking for the entire family. It was the first time I felt I had failed at something that really mattered. I was so disappointed in myself and frustrated with the bad outcome. I cried every day when I woke up and every night when I went to bed. I experienced a very public panic attack. The divorce had real and lasting consequences, especially for my children, Elijah and Katherine, and my heart broke for them.

As I have already told you, it was during this sorrowful time that I remembered the stories my mother had taught me—stories about Jesus and His love. I called upon Him for help, and soon I began to feel the comfort I needed. That reformative year allowed me to become intimately associated with our Savior, Jesus, because He carried me through it.

To heal after the divorce, I did what I knew. I prayed and I read my Bible—activities I had not done in more than ten years. I went to counseling. I tried to forgive and extend grace to others. After a few years, I had made good progress in developing my faith, but I sensed there was more.

James is my favorite book in the Bible. It begins with this promise: If we lack wisdom and ask God, then it shall be given to us.

You can imagine my excitement when, just a year later, I learned that Joseph Smith had also loved the book of James and that its words had also inspired him. But that discovery was still a ways off at this point.

For a long time I read James daily—all five books. Those chapters taught me what pure religion is and how to recognize wisdom from above. My faith grew, but I felt there was more.

After I had been divorced for about two years, I prayed differently one evening.

I prayed for a family that would be a light to the world.

I prayed for a marriage centered on Jesus Christ.

I prayed that we, as a family, would truly live a Christ-consumed life.

I prayed for sanctification through the family unit.

What was different about this prayer was not the things for which I prayed. I prayed for those things often. The difference in this prayer was that I expressed my complete willingness to walk whatever path was required of me. I told Heavenly Father that if He showed me the path, I would “pre-commit” to taking it. I was prepared to make a covenant.

After I said these words, I was immediately filled with fear. What if it was hard? What if I had to give up something or change my life? What if people made fun of me? I pondered these consequences and then considered what my life was like with only partial light, and I said to Heavenly Father, “I will do what is required. Show me the path.”

Immediately I felt the heavens open, and I experienced personal revelation in a completely new way. I received strong confirmation that additional light would come and that I would get married that year! (That seemed remarkable because I had not been on one date since the divorce.)

I suspect that Heavenly Father answered my prayer with the promise of additional light because I had been so humbled by my recent ­trials. Metaphorically speaking, I was waving my white flag, ready to yield my life to His will. The scriptures teach us that if we are humble, the Lord will lead us by the hand and answer our prayers.

Right away I started looking for the additional light—and I started dating. By mid-year, when the promises had not yet arrived, I began wondering how they would be fulfilled. (And when! Time was running out.) Then I met Marc.

The first time I met Marc, I said, “I am not sure what you believe, but I believe in Jesus Christ and I am never going to compromise.” I said this on most of my first dates, and the response was usually awkward, or even negative. Yet I continued to declare my love for the Savior because I had already pre-committed to follow Him. Being a follower of Jesus Christ is a primary part of my identity, and it was the first characteristic I wanted to share.

Marc’s response was different than those I typically received: he smiled and calmly said that he also loved the Savior. His humble yet confident response intrigued me.

Our first official date lasted eighteen hours. I knew he was the answer to my prayer, but I could not reconcile the fact that he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and I was not. This was not how I had expected the prayer to be answered.

Over the first few months of dating, I often wanted to discuss our religious differences, and Marc wisely said, “We will, but not yet.” He allowed me time to get to know him and see his character before discussing our different beliefs. I watched him carefully, observing his strong faith, his kindness, his work ethic, his commitment to doing good, and the power of his prayers.

After a few months, Marc invited me to watch general conference with him. I said that I would but that I could not break the promise I had made to Heavenly Father. I was intrigued by the fruits I had seen in Marc (and others), and I was willing to consider the Church as the possible source of his goodness. But if I did not feel God in it, I could not pretend otherwise—no matter how much I liked Marc. I knew how to recognize my Father’s voice, and I would only go where He directed.

On that Sunday morning when I heard President Thomas S. Monson speak, I knew that his words were true, and this surprised me. Who was this man whose words penetrated my soul? That night we began reading the Book of Mormon together with two rules. First, prior to reading we prayed for the Spirit to accompany us. Second, we committed to openly discuss all questions but without contention. We wanted God’s Spirit to teach, so we tried to create a space in which He could comfortably reside.

The conversion process was not linear for me. I was so eager and excited to learn, but when I had significant questions or when I heard criticism levied against the restored gospel, I felt intense fear. Still I pressed on, and, little by little, as we read and I prayed, I began to feel peace. I met with the missionaries, and they taught me things that I felt I had known before but had forgotten. I asked clarifying questions. I asked tough questions. As I studied with a teachable heart—and a willingness to do the work God required of me—my questions were answered. One day the evidence was overwhelming. I knew I was on the verge of something amazing. I knew my Heavenly Father was showing me the path—the path I had already pre-committed to follow.

When I was baptized on January 25, 2014, promising to take upon myself the name of Jesus Christ, I was filled with power. The clarity and energy that came from my covenants astonished me. I could see the path clearly for the first time, and I was energized to take it. I could discern the next step and understand more fully what my family needed. I had access to heaven, and this power filled my heart with love. Elder Christofferson taught that “the source [of such power] is God. Our access to that power is through our covenants with Him.” I can testify that these words are true; there is power in covenants.

Marc and I were married two months later, and we were sealed in the Salt Lake City Temple about a year after that. If God had called me to remain single and raise my children in the gospel without help from a husband, I know He would have provided me with the necessary power and faith, and I would have walked that path too. Yet I am so grateful for my marriage because it helps me to become more Christlike. I need help learning to live the gospel, and it has been fun to learn with Marc. When things get hard (and they always do), we remind each other to look up. That is what we all need—a friend to point our gaze toward eternity.

How would you like to live in a schoolhouse? Minna and her family live in the countryside of southern Sweden. Their home used to be a schoolhouse many years ago. She says the best part is that the house has a room big enough for lots of people. In December, Minna’s family invites neighbors, friends, and family over for a special “sing-in.” About 80 people come to sing Christmas carols together! Then they enjoy treats before everyone goes back out into the cold Scandinavian winter weather.

I learned about the power and blessings of the priesthood at an unfortunate time. A few years ago, when my little brother was 14, he wrecked on his motorcycle and snapped his leg in half. My dad called and told me they were taking him to the hospital. I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I rushed to the hospital. When I got there, I saw one of my uncles. He told me how bad the accident was.
Fearing what I would see, I opened the door where my brother was and stepped into the room. I took one step, closed my eyes, and was instantly at peace. Just as I will never forget the sick feeling I had, I will never forget the feeling of peace and comfort that came over me. I recognized the feeling—it was the Spirit.
I then heard my father speaking. He and my uncle were giving my brother a priesthood blessing. He humbly blessed his son in the name of Jesus Christ to be OK, to heal, to have his leg work properly again.
After the blessing, everyone was quiet for a while. I knew at that moment that I had to live worthy to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and be able to perform blessings for my future children.
When we gathered in the hall outside my brother’s room, my parents started to discuss what they should do. They debated whether to leave Mexico to take him to a doctor in the United States or to have the surgery performed here. Whatever option they felt was best for my brother, I knew he had already received the best attention he could receive. He had received a blessing by two men holding the priesthood, so no matter what my parents decided, my brother was going to be fine.
They decided to stay in Mexico for the operation. Doctors put a plate and 10 screws into my brother’s leg. It healed well, and a few months later he joined a football team. The blessing was fulfilled just as my dad had said.
I know the priesthood is the power and authority of God given to men. What a great gift He has given us.

Aron C., age 10, Colombia
I help my father clean our house, and I receive money every month for helping. Instead of spending all my money, I set aside 10 percent for tithing and give it to the bishop. I feel good after I pay my tithing because I know the money goes to take care of the chapel and to buy books and many other things. I know that Jesus Christ gave us everything, and when we pay tithing, we give back to Him. I feel happy when I pay my tithing.

I recall an experience that shows the effect of her teachings. Just before Christmas one year, our bishop asked me, as a deacon, to help him deliver Christmas baskets to the widows of the ward. I carried a basket to each door with his greetings. When he drove me home, there was one basket remaining. He handed it to me and said it was for my mother. As he drove away, I stood in the falling snow wondering why there was a basket for my mother. She never referred to herself as a widow, and it had never occurred to me that she was. To a 12-year-old boy, she wasn’t a widow. She had a husband, and we had a father. He was just away for a while.

I anticipate that glorious future day when the separated will be reunited and all of us will be made complete as the Lord has promised.

This monumental effort to build the House of the Lord occurred while enemies from Missouri and elsewhere continually threatened Joseph's life. When mobsters from Missouri or wherever pursued the Prophet Joseph, he sought refuge in one place or another. In Nauvoo, we are told that occasionally it was up through a trap door into the small attic of the home of Bishop Edward Hunter. Joseph Smith was over six feet tall, and while he was in that cramped and life-threatening situation, his mind was occupied with things more important to him than his personal safety. Without even being able to stand up for hours on end, it was there in that uncomfortable setting, he wrote letters of inspiration, one of which became section 128 in the Doctrine and Covenants. Listen to what was pressing on his mind at the time: I now resume the subject of the baptism for the dead, as that subject seems to occupy my mind, and press itself upon my feelings the strongest, since I have been pursued by my enemies.[6] Rather than to his own comfort and safety, his thoughts turned to the sacred ordinance work that would occur in the temple. Rather than being discouraged or depressed, he wrote positive, optimistic and even lyrical lines such as these:

Now what do we hear in the gospel which we have received? A voice of gladness! A voice of mercy from heaven; and a voice of truth out of the earth; glad tidings for the dead; glad tidings of great joy. How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of those that bring glad tidings of good things, and that say unto Zion: Behold, thy God reigneth! As the dews of Carmel, so shall the knowledge of God descend upon them!
Brethren, shall we not go on in so great a cause? Go forward and not backward. Courage, brethren; and on, on to the victory![7]

But most of all, I remember sitting in a merciless rain on the hill with a sister and her companion while she, with joy filling her eyes, told me how happy she was to be in pageant and related to me a personal incident that had happened to her a few days before.
It was a brisk morning in Palmyra, and she and five other sisters who were staying with a nonmember family during pageant were waiting for the bus that would take them to the rehearsal on the hill. Across the street, a young boy was tossing a baseball up and down in the air. It had been over a week since she had last been with her family in the West. She missed her little brothers and her home.
Before she knew it, she was across the road and asking the young lad if she could play catch with him. The boy’s eyes lit up, and he thanked her for asking him.
“You’re a Mormon, aren’t you?” he asked jubilantly.
“Yes,” she replied, wondering why this eight-year-old youngster was asking.
“I love Mormons,” he added, as if in answer to her thought. “You’re all so nice. You dress nice. You look nice. And all of you are always fun to be with when you come for the pageant.”
Possessed with the true missionary zeal of the pageant and touched by the boy’s comment, this sister asked if he would like to have two “representatives” come to his house. The answer and the feeling that emanated from him brought tears to her eyes.
“That’d be great! But my mother wouldn’t like it. See, Daddy died a little while back, and she doesn’t really want to see anyone. But I keep working on her.” At this point, the boy stopped playing catch, looked at her with the surety and faith that only an adolescent can possess, and said, “I’ve seen the pageant every year, and I pray in secret every night. I love Jesus, and I know Mr. Smith found those plates over there. Someday I’m gonna be a Saint too, and I’m gonna be in pageant and tell everybody what I believe.”
From the mouth of a child, the Lord had given her all the encouragement she could need to be an example. And being an example is the key to the miracle of the pageant. No one thing influences the effect and success of the pageant more than the spiritual atmosphere present on the hill. For this reason, during the performance, participants who are not on stage maintain reverent silence. The result is an astonishingly spectacular pageant that has awed, thrilled, and inspired millions of viewers since its inception thirty-four years ago and has received news reports in papers in all of the fifty states and many other nations, in addition to widespread television and radio coverage. For anyone not to be deeply inspired by pageant, he would have to have water instead of blood in his veins.

In school, if the children had been well-behaved, the teacher might reward them by having a railroad spelling bee after the afternoon recess. All the children lined up next to the wall. One day little Mary was at the front of the line, so she could spell any word that she wanted to. She correctly spelled cat. Then Charles, who was next in line, had to spell a word beginning with t, the last letter in Mary’s word. He spelled tail. Laura was next, and she had to spell a word beginning with l. She slowly spelled, “l-i-v-e-l-e-e.” Then, because she had misspelled lively, she had to sit down. The game continued as Henry correctly spelled a word beginning with y. All too soon the railroad spelling bee ended—it was time for the children to go home. But the next day they would return to the one-room schoolhouse to study and play again.

Last year, Lisa dislocated her shoulder and missed a chance to go to the Blue Star Basketball Camp to be seen by college recruiters. She was disappointed, but she didn’t give up. “I knew that I’d kept my body clean and strong and that it would heal fast.” She came back playing even stronger.
Lisa’s coach, John Schneiter, says, “In my 35 years of coaching, I’ve never seen a harder working athlete.”

Balancing his Church work, his civic service, and his legal work, Howard continued to advance his distinctive career. An example of Howard’s careful, thoughtful approach to problems is the legal case in which he represented a plaintiff in an action to recover damages to a tomato crop caused by the drifting spray of a crop duster on an adjoining ranch. After Howard’s excellent opening presentation before the court, on the second day of trial arguments, the twelve defense attorneys offered a substantial settlement, which his client accepted. His capacity for precise thinking and logic, together with his intuitive feeling for justice, made him a formidable advocate.

They remind me of the characters in a parable written a few years ago by Dr. Hugh Nibley. And I would like to quote part of his parable:
A young man once long ago claimed he had found a large diamond in his field as he was ploughing. He put the stone on display to the public free of charge, and everyone took sides. A psychologist showed, by citing some famous case studies, that the young man was suffering from a well-known form of delusion. An historian showed that other men have also claimed to have found diamonds in fields and have been deceived. A geologist proved that there were no diamonds in the area but only quartz: The young man had been fooled by a quartz.
“When asked to inspect the stone itself, the geologist declined with a weary, tolerant smile, and a kindly shake of the head. An English professor showed that the young man in describing his stone used the very same language that others had used in describing uncut diamonds: He was, therefore, simply speaking the common language of his time.
“A sociologist showed that only three out of 177 florists= assistants in four major cities believed the stone was genuine. A clergyman wrote a book to show that it was not the young man but someone else who had found the stone.
Finally an indigent jeweler Y pointed out that since the stone was still available for examination the answer to the question of whether it was a diamond or not had absolutely nothing to do with who found it, or whether the finder was honest or sane, or who believed him, or whether he would know a diamond from a brick, or whether diamonds had ever been found in fields, or whether people had ever been fooled by quartz or glass, but was to be answered simply and solely by putting the stone to certain well-known tests for diamonds.
“Experts on diamonds were called in. Some of them declared it genuine. The others made nervous jokes about it and declared that they could not very well jeopardize their dignity and reputations by appearing to take the thing too seriously. To hide the bad impression thus made, someone came out with the theory that the stone was really a synthetic diamond, very skillfully made, but a fake just the same. The objection to this is that the production of a good synthetic diamond, for the farm boy, would have been an even more remarkable feat than the finding of a real one."[4]

We had long had a problem planning spiritual, enriching family home evenings for our young children, ages two, three, and five. Then my husband suggested basing our weekly lessons on the Articles of Faith. He drew a picture chart of the first article of faith and helped the children “read” it, going over it each evening before family prayers. Within a week they had it memorized, even the two-year-old. Then, each family home evening that month focused on the concepts in that article of faith. Each month we learn a new article of faith. This approach allows us to easily plan our home evenings a month in advance, and the children really enjoy memorizing the Articles of Faith and learning the principles of the gospel.

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