Gospel Story Finder

Micki Adams, West Point Stake Young Women president, and Annice Nixon, her second counselor, spearheaded the bear project. They approached Captain K. D. Simpson of the Davis County Sheriff’s Department with the idea of placing teddy bears with the sheriff’s paramedic and patrol units.
Captain Simpson told them that children are involved in approximately 45 percent of all the calls for services by the Davis County Paramedics.
Sister Adams read a newspaper article about a Montana group who donated teddy bears to a paramedic organization. She brought up the idea at a Young Women presidency meeting, and the theme “Teddy Bear Picnic” was selected for the Young Women birthday party.
Knowing how anxious children are when confronting a policeman or a paramedic, the Young Women decided that they would create teddy bears to help. “We wanted to give the child something to focus on beside his pain,” Sister Adams said. “We wanted to give him something to hold on to and to love.”
When the young women gathered for a stake Young Women birthday party, they met to begin clipping, turning, stuffing and hand finishing 285 bears.
Lori Ellsworth, a Beehive in the West Point Third Ward, said, “The first bear was hard to make until I got the hang of it. But it was worth it because it would help someone in pain.”
Ninety bears were completed that evening. The girls took the rest of the bears home to finish on their own.
The bears are eight inches tall and made from scraps donated by the stake Young Women presidency. The West Point Stake Relief Society donated most of the stuffing.
The Davis County Sheriff’s Department received 100 teddy bears. Captain Simpson said it is policy now for a paramedic or a sheriff on a call to give any child involved under the age of ten a bear. However, young children have not been the only recipients. The paramedics gave a bear to an 80-year-old woman who suffered a stroke. “It was the only thing that calmed her down,” said Captain Simpson. “She wouldn’t let go of the bear.”
The local hospital received another 100 teddy bears that were hung on a Christmas tree. Children admitted to the hospital were able to choose which one they wanted.
Captain Simpson said, “At first the paramedics weren’t too sure about using the bears. It wasn’t macho. It took two or three times using the bears before they realized how well they worked. Now if they don’t have enough, they get more. They count on them when working with children.”
Captain Simpson, who is also a flight paramedic, saw firsthand how effective the bears can be. Twelve-year-old Nicole Wallace had to be flown by helicopter from one hospital to another. She was bleeding internally from a lacerated kidney and liver suffered in an automobile accident. She refused to give up her bear even when the paramedics needed to transfer her from one gurney to another. She finally gave it up just before undergoing surgery.
Nicole lives in the West Point Sixth Ward but had not yet turned 12 when her friends had made the green spotted bear the paramedics gave her after the accident.
“The paramedics had to take the seat out. Then they took me out of the back window. When they put me in the ambulance, they gave me this cute little bear,” Nicole said. “It kept me from getting scared. I would hold on to it, so I wouldn’t hurt so bad. In the hospital it stayed right by me in my bed.”
Jennifer Techmeyer, a Beehive in the West Point Seventh Ward, said, “I thought it was really great to make something to put in the ambulance for the kids. I thought it was special to donate our love to them.”

At home in a hidden-away corner, I have a small black walking stick with an imitation silver handle. It once belonged to a distant relative. Why do I keep it for a period now spanning more than 70 years? There is a special reason. As a small boy I participated in a Christmas pageant in our ward. I was privileged to be one of the three Wise Men. With a bandanna about my head, Mother’s piano bench cover draped over my shoulder, and the black cane in my hand, I spoke my assigned lines: “Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him” (Matthew 2:2). I vividly remember the feelings of my heart as the three of us “Wise Men” looked upward and saw a star, journeyed across the stage, found Mary with the young child Jesus, then fell down and worshipped Him and opened our treasures and presented gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
I especially liked the fact that we did not return to the evil Herod to betray the baby Jesus but obeyed God and departed another way.
The years have flown by, but the Christmas cane continues to occupy a special place in my home; and in my heart is a commitment to Christ.

While discussing how to approach our friends, my wife and I decided that our friends would more likely agree to the lessons if other non-Mormon couples were in attendance. They would be more relaxed in a group, less the center of attention. Furthermore, we had been impressed with Wilford Woodruff’s success in teaching people in large groups. Apparently, during those occasions, the Spirit was very intense, so strong that listeners sometimes received a testimony strong enough to motivate them to request baptism on the spot.
Having gone this far, we contacted one of the district leaders in our mission, Elder Bruce Chadwick, whom we knew, and told him our plans. He was enthusiastic and even offered to do the teaching, with the help of one of the zone leaders, Elder Dennis Stoddard.
A day or so later, Elder Chadwick and Elder Stoddard visited our home to discuss the matter further. We decided to serve dessert each time, to break the ice while everyone visited for fifteen or twenty minutes before the lessons started. In this way we would not interfere with the spiritual influence the elders wanted the investigators to carry home.
The teaching elder would periodically ask for our comments, a signal to us, if we felt inspired, to bear our testimony on the point just discussed. We would also help answer questions. The elders decided to postpone the baptismal and Word of Wisdom challenges until the end when we could meet with each investigator individually. This avoided any hint of pressure during the group meetings without hindering the conversion process: the baptismal and long-term activity rates turned out to be higher than usual.
Before each lesson, the elders were supposed to come early, to kneel with us as we asked for the help of the Spirit. Also, I was to ask a member to open with prayer and another to close the lessons with prayer.
Finally we were ready to arrange the meetings with our friends. We hoped we could get two groups of four or five investigators each if we invited all forty on our list. One group would meet on Friday evenings and the other on Saturday evenings.
When we first used this approach, we were very surprised. About two-thirds of our friends accepted. After merely asking just sixteen couples on the original list, we had two groups of six investigators each. So together with three or four spouses who were members, the missionaries, and ourselves, each group consisted of about thirteen or fourteen people.
As we hoped, the Spirit of those meetings was very strong. Overwhelmed by the experience, most of the nonmembers were visibly moved.
Usually, one of the elders led the first half of a discussion and the other the second half, encouraging questions throughout. Sometimes the investigators were asked if it might be possible to wait until next week for an answer to a question. They always agreed, and we always returned to the question as promised. Answers to most questions, however, were generally immediate, competent, and inspired. The investigators almost always were satisfied.
We were careful and patient in answering questions, usually from the Bible, but sometimes from latter-day scriptures. The Spirit converts, but people also need to be convinced intellectually that the Church is true. This they can do by hearing the lessons, by reading the Book of Mormon and other Church literature, and by having their questions answered. As they do this with sincere intent, they usually are much more able to distinguish between purely emotional reaction and the influence of the spirit. Consequently, we never tired of answering their questions and always tried to do so competently, clearly, and under the influence of the Spirit. Each question was answered, but not always immediately. Some questions raised issues the investigators were not ready to discuss yet, and others would have led the discussion away from the main point being stressed. In such instances, we gave the reason why we were postponing the answer and tried to give the investigator an idea when it would be answered.
When all of the lessons were completed, we thanked everyone for participating and told them we would be visiting them at their homes. Within two or three days, with the elders, we visited each couple, answered any remaining questions, and then simply invited them to join the Church. To our surprise, in the first group about two-thirds of the investigators accepted the invitation.

Many of the LDS kids in Alice attend St. Philip’s, a private school run by another church. Like most Australian schools, St. Philip’s has a strict dress code. Everyone must wear uniforms, and there are even rules about jewelry—only one pair of earrings, no bracelets, no rings.
That was the rub for the Mormon kids—no rings. Like many Latter-day Saints worldwide, they like to wear CTR rings. But they were told to remove them, even though exceptions had been made before for jewelry with “religious significance.”
“I’d explain why it was important to me,” says Lavinia Archibald, 16. “But one of my teachers kept saying to take it off or she’d confiscate it.”
The LDS students and their parents (including branch president Mark Webster) talked to the principal, who knew the LDS youth as some of his best students. He talked to the faculty, explained that CTR stands for “choose the right,” and gave his approval for Latter-day Saints to wear the rings.
“Now the teacher is fine about it,” Lavinia says. “She’ll have you reach your hand out, then say, ‘Ah, you’re allowed.’”

My best friend Emily and I were two of the six members of the Church at my high school in Indiana. At an activity, we were invited to think of someone in our lives we could share the gospel with. To our surprise, we both immediately thought of the same person—our English teacher. We were nervous to share it with an authority figure, but we decided to act on the prompting and give him a Book of Mormon. It was summer, so we sent it to him in the mail with our testimonies written on the inside cover.
When the school year started a few weeks later, we walked into his class apprehensively. But he didn’t say anything that first day. Or the second day. Or the day after that. We wondered if he was just going to act like nothing happened or if he even got our package at all, but we were too afraid to ask. Finally, about a week and a half later, he handed us a card. When we opened it, we read that he was respectful with his thank you, but we were disappointed to realize that he wasn’t interested in learning more. Though I’m still not sure why we both felt that prompting, I know that it was the right decision to act on it and send him the Book of Mormon.
Carli C., Utah, USA

As a boy of about 10, I didn’t feel like my prayers were really being answered. Finally I had enough courage to ask my father about it, and he explained that prayer was like a parachute that a pilot puts on when he flies an airplane. He doesn’t go up expecting to need to jump out of his airplane and use his parachute, but he puts it on every time so that when it’s really needed, he has it.
That was enough to help me in my young mind to continue my prayers and charge my spiritual battery. Also, as I watched my father use his priesthood, I gained courage and faith that I could someday do similar things. As time went on, I had experiences that taught me this principle was true. It has been important to continually charge that battery.

It was a new week, and I looked at the family calendar with trepidation. How could we possibly fulfill all of the obligations we had scheduled?
I plunged in, trying my best to volunteer at the schools, get the children to their various sports and clubs, feed everyone around ever-tightening schedules, and get my early-morning seminary lesson prepared each day. My husband rushed around to get to work and to Church meetings, to visit ward members, and to coach soccer. We were trying to be anxiously engaged in good causes and to be active in the Church, but something was missing. Although many families can handle numerous activities, it wasn’t working for us: the frenetic schedule was taking a toll on our family.
As I pondered this problem, I started to notice how often we had to tell our children no about things they wanted and needed from us. This bothered me, and I started to think about what could be done.
I turned to the scriptures. As I read the Book of Mormon, I came upon the sermon of King Benjamin in which he said, “And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order” (Mosiah 4:27).
The prize we wanted was a happier, more unified family. We wanted less stress and more joy, but it seemed that we clearly were not on a path that led to these prizes.
We were diligent, but we were spinning our wheels. We were preparing everything as opposed to every needful thing. I prayed about our situation, but initially no answer came.
Life went on as usual. Callings needed attention, I felt the dishes had to be washed, and everyone required rides to their activities. As I prepared to teach seminary each day, I started to find the answers I sought from the wisdom of our modern prophets and leaders. I came upon an address by President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) encouraging the Saints to hold family home evening. He said: “In our time the Lord has offered his ageless program in new dress and it gives promise to return the world to sane living, to true family life, family interdependence. It is to return the father to his rightful place at the head of the family, to bring mother home from social life and employment, the children away from unlimited fun and frolic.”1
I realized that one of the first casualties of our busy lifestyle was regular scheduling of family home evening. Not long after, our bishop read a letter in sacrament meeting from the First Presidency reminding us to choose our activities wisely and not let the good things we do get in the way of home evening.
As my husband and I discussed this counsel, we realized that a lot of our activities were fun but not needful and that we could benefit from trimming the excess. We made lists of our activities and put them in categories like “needful,” “not needful,” and “needs improvement.”
As we studied our lists, we were concerned about the feelings of our children. Most of the activities we considered cutting were things they were involved in, like sports and clubs. We decided to hold a family home evening and talk this over with the children. When we discussed the problem with the children, we were astonished to find out that they would much rather spend time with us than have us coach their teams or chair their clubs.
From this realization our “Family Club” was born.
Once we fulfilled our obligations to existing activities, we did not sign up for anything new. On nights when we have no Church responsibilities, my husband will come home from work and announce, “Tonight is Family Club!” and the children will hurry to get their homework and chores done so we can spend time together.
Our children like to engage in special projects, especially with their dad. One night they built a computer out of scrap parts. Sometimes everyone will put on tool belts and fix something around the house. The point is that we have the time, energy, and desire to be together.
I also have more time to spend with the children and prepare more nutritious meals for the family. Family Club requires no running around, splitting our family among activities, or eating out. No one seems to miss our life of rushing around and fast food. We enjoy the time we spend together so much that the children no longer want to be so involved in extracurricular activities.
We have reinstated family home evening and daily family prayer. We also tidy up, do personal scripture study, and have family recreational activities. We understand that as the children get older, they will naturally have more activities. We will add them when it becomes needful, but until then, we are enjoying every minute of Family Club.

As a youth, these words sunk deep into my heart and helped prepare me to become a worthy Melchizedek Priesthood holder. But for years after receiving the priesthood, I couldn’t bring myself to give priesthood blessing to others, and the biggest reason was fear.
I was afraid I was unworthy or that I might not say the right thing. This fear kept me from using the priesthood authority, with which I’d been entrusted, to call on the powers of heaven to bless others. But deep down I knew that if I wanted to magnify the priesthood, my feelings needed to change. I needed to overcome my fears and insecurities about using God’s power to bless others.
By exercising faith in the Lord and acting on the inspired counsel of His servants, I aligned my life more closely with His teachings. I took the time to pour out my soul in prayer every day, and I prayed to be spiritually strengthened as I studied the scriptures. I shared scripture verses with whoever came to mind while reading. I listened to general conference talks. I shared my testimony of the gospel with others. And I fasted when I needed extra strength.
As I followed these basic instructions with a determination to align my will with God’s, I could feel the Holy Ghost more, my spiritual capacity increased, and my connection with the powers of heaven was strengthened. At last, I had the courage to give a blessing of comfort and guidance.
I remember feeling nervous at first and worried about what to say. But as the Spirit washed over me, my fear was gone, and my worry was replaced by the very words I should say! It felt so right, like I had been missing a part of myself all along!
Since then I’ve been called on to give more blessings than I can count, and I love it! Each time I give the Lord’s blessings to His children, I’ve been blessed immensely. A priesthood blessing truly blesses everyone involved.

“I can’t take another day of the rowdiness and disrespect of those young people on our tour!” The American woman introduced herself as she sat down across the table from me.
“I don’t know what has happened to this younger generation. They have absolutely no regard for the beautiful or the sacred. We have some teenagers in our group who sit in the back of the bus smoking, drinking, and disrupting our whole tour with their rowdiness.”
We arose and walked through the rose garden behind the hotel, viewing the Holy City across the Kidron Valley. She continued: “Only yesterday in Bethlehem the obscenity and vulgarism of their language was a desecration of those sacred shrines.”
As she spoke, I thought of the eight young people who made up nearly a fourth of our tour group.
“What do you do with all those teenagers you have with you?” she asked. “I noticed that you have quite a number of them with your group. How do you control them?”
I thought of the way Melvin Bushman and Bonnie May Hiatt had been so concerned about Mrs. Foster as we all ascended the narrow, age-polished stone steps to the “Upper Room,” which tradition identifies as the site of the Last Supper. And wasn’t it Carolyn Bushman and her cousin Virnell Bushman who had made sure that Mrs. Turley wouldn’t miss the view from the minaret? Diane Hess was the very essence of sunshine and cheerfulness, always a bright spot in our group. And Shelley Crane, quiet and somewhat shy, was always concerned for others before herself.
Then there were Jerome and John Horowitz. Jerome was a typical 17-year-old and as typically unpredictable. I was a little annoyed when he appeared so zealous to board the plane that day when we didn’t have seat assignments, but a few moments later I realized that he was trying to reserve seats for some of the older members of our group.
“What do you do about them when you are visiting these sacred sites?” she asked.
“We take them with us, or rather they take us, and we share in their enthusiasm. You see, we’re Mormons, and—”
“Oh yes, I’ve heard about your church and the marvelous programs you have for young people,” she interrupted. “You have some sort of youth activity program, don’t you?”
I explained that the quality of our young people is the result of more than just activities and programs; the gospel is a whole way of life. It is the influence of the gospel of Jesus Christ and his priesthood in the lives of Mormon young people that makes the difference. Because of their own feelings for their Savior, their own spiritual strength and testimonies, and in many cases, their own sacrifices, this journey to the Holy Land meant as much to the young people of our tour group as it did to the adults.
My conversation with this lady came back many times during the subsequent events of our tour, events that vindicated my defense of LDS youth.

First, I’d like you to start thinking of a time you felt your Heavenly Father’s guidance and love in your life. I’ll have you write your thoughts in just a minute. As you reflect on this, I would like to share an experience that happened to me many years ago as a teenager.

Our young men’s group had planned an outing to go to a ranch and ride horses on a day trail ride. I was excited to go and fortunate my father was able to accompany me on my adventure with our ward. As they saddled up the horses and gave me mine, I wasn’t as thrilled as I noticed my horse was extremely spirited and stubborn. We went on a ride for several hours, where I constantly had to work to keep the horse with the group. We took a break and then started down the trail again.

Not too long after, a nearby horse, that wasn’t part of the ride and was feeding in the pasture, took off in a gallop and ran in front of my horse. Immediately, my horse bolted and ran after that horse. With my limited experience and everyone behind me yelling commands, I tried pulling several times on the reigns to stop the horse, but to no avail. We were headed for thick brush I probably wouldn’t clear.

At that time, I did what most people recommend you don’t: I closed my eyes. But then I proceeded to pray, saying, “Heavenly Father, help me.” I kept my eyes closed and felt the impression to put my hands together as if I was going to dive into a swimming pool. Later, I would learn from my dad that this helped me do a rolling summersault off the horse.

A few seconds later, I was laying on the ground face down. As I got up, I noticed several rocks and a tree trunk near me. Miraculously, I had only a few small scrapes on my face, a small bruise under my chin, and my glasses had been thrown quite a distance.

They then brought my horse back, which I wasn’t too excited to get back on but had to so we could get back to the ranch. I was still surprised by what had happened as someone handed me my glasses. I put them on and couldn’t see very well out of one eye. I kept asking the riders near me if my eye was okay and they said it was. Finally, I reached up to move my glasses and poked myself in the eye. To my relief, I realized the rim had had broken and the lens had fallen out. My eye was completely fine.

That day, I could have easily had my feet stuck in the stirrups, or any number of other outcomes, but I came to a profound knowledge that my Heavenly Father heard and answered my prayer and He loved me.

The magazine left behind by an American serviceman in his shop was a little worn-out, but the young Filipino still found it inviting to read.
As if by design and not by pure chance, his fingers flipped the pages to an article about a prophet who died a hundre years before. In 1946, during the early days of the Republic of the Philippines, any story about as modern-day prophet would sound preposterous, but not for this young Pampango who became oblivious to the passing of time as he became deeply engrossed with the article on Joseph Smith and the Mormons who were, to him, a strange and unknown people.
The story he read lingered in his mind and there were searching questions he wanted to ask. There was the compelling need to know more about Joseph Smith and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He had to find out, but there was no way to do it. … and nobody to turn to for enlightenment.
Then, one Saturday afternoon, he noticed an American captain from Clark Air Force Base who appeared to be completely different from the others during off-duty hours in matters of pleasure and other mundane activity.
The thought raced in David’s mind that the captain could be a Mormon, and he debated with himself on whether to ask him or not. How embarrassing it would be if the captain was not a Mormon and be offended by his impertinence. But an unseen force seemed to direct David to him, and he slowly approached the captain with faltering steps.
“Sir, may I ask you a question?” David shyly asked. The officer nodded. “Are you a Mormon?” he continued.
The officer’s lips broadened to a wide smile, and David almost shrank with shame with the thought that he had asked a silly question.
But the chance meeting and the unikely question proved to be the turning point in David’s life. The captain was a Mormon!
A strong bond of friendship was immediately struck between them—and, not long thereafter, David became a convert to the Church.

I guess everybody at some time longs to feel important and to do something that will be remembered by the people of the world—something that will change the course of history and become legendary because of its momentous impact on society. At least that’s the way I felt when I was a teenager.
Of course, I could dream of being rich and famous, or of making a major scientific discovery, or of being the first woman on the moon or in the White House, but somehow I knew those things were not within the realms of probability. At least not for me.
I was not exactly what you might call an outstanding person. I don’t really remember standing out in anything, except maybe the rain. I was a great follower, but never a leader. I knew I’d never be class valedictorian or win any contests or talent shows, and I was too uncoordinated in sports to excel. It’s not that I didn’t try or didn’t care. I was just shy and lacked self-confidence. So how could a person like me possibly make a difference?
I asked my mother what she thought. She said getting through the school year without getting any C’s on my report card would certainly make a difference when it came time for me to go to college. I knew she was right, but that wasn’t the kind of thing I had in mind. I thought of rewriting the school constitution or taking a petition around for people to sign, but I couldn’t think of what to change in the constitution or what to petition for.
When I finally started to run out of ideas and hope, I turned to the Lord. I asked him to help me find something that wouldn’t take any special talents or qualifications, but would help me feel I was making a worthwhile contribution. Nothing earth-shattering just something suited to my capabilities.
It wasn’t long afterwards that I got this genius idea. It was so right for me that I knew it had to be inspired—I never would have thought of it myself. The idea was that I should get to know people’s names—everyone that I came in contact with on a regular basis—and greet them by name whenever I saw them.
I started with my own neighborhood and learned the names of everyone—even the children and pets. Then I went on to memorize the names of all my ward members. When I had successfully completed that, I started on my high school.
It was a big school in a large city and it took me quite a while, but I did it. I didn’t pay any attention to racial or clique boundaries. At first I felt a little strange saying hello and calling people by name that I didn’t even know, and I embarrassed myself quite a few times by accidentally calling people by the wrong name, but I got better at it as time went on.
It became a game to see how many new names I could learn in a day. Once in a while I got some puzzled looks and some questions like, “Are you trying to win an election or something?” But for the most part, everyone acted like they really appreciated it.
Did it make a difference? I think so. Once Brother Barton, the oldest man in the ward said to me, “Young lady, I think you are the only young person in this ward who knows my name. It sure is nice when you speak to me and remember who I am.” Then one day at school I found an anonymous note stuck into my locker that said, “Thanks for saying hi to me today. I’m new at school and I didn’t think anyone even knew my name. Thanks for making me feel welcome.” I even got to like some of the people I’d previously thought were unfriendly or snobbish. When I started being nice to them and calling them by name, they were usually very nice in return.
The greatest difference it made, though, was in me. My whole attitude changed. I didn’t feel average or ordinary anymore. I felt that I was a special person who was doing something worthwhile because I was helping others. I could see them light up inside whenever I said their name and greeted them with a smile. It may have made only a small difference to them, but with the Lord’s help, it made a big difference to me.

Thenceforth, I continued to walk leisurely, convinced that only dogs would act they way I had just witnessed. I was certainly saddened, in spite of my surroundings, when at a distance before me I saw two men locked in physical combat. I intervened, and they stopped at a point when one of them pulled a long knife. My presence was properly timed to prevent the certain death of the other who was apparently without any defensive weapon except his hands. I inquired what was wrong, and they began accusing each other. As a lawyer, I advised them that whoever won the fight is not a winner in the true sense because not only would he be deprived of peace of mind but that the authorities would see to it that he went to jail to pay for his crime.
The cause of it all, I finally found out, was that one owed the other the measly sum of $10.00 which he could not pay at the moment but promised to do so in an uncertain future. The latter, obviously drunk, became fed up with promises and so decided to settle it his way on the assumption it would solve his problem. Naturally, I remarked that it is the duty of the courts to collect debts otherwise impossible of recovery and that to take somebody’s life is too high a price for such an insignificant amount.
I left these two men shaking hands in renewed friendship, as I volunteered to pay the debt in behalf of the debtor.
The course taken by these two men was surely less forgivable than that of the dogs. Dogs are not expected to exercise self-control. But many of us act like dogs if we don’t.

Illustrations by Sal Velluto and Eugenio Mattozzi
As mayor of Nauvoo, Joseph often had meetings with Nauvoo city officials. At one such meeting, Joseph looked out the window and saw two boys fighting in the street.
Joseph immediately went down to stop the fight.
Boys! This is no way to stop a problem.
The boys listened to Joseph and stopped fighting.
Joseph then spoke to the people who had watched the fight from the side of the road.
You should have interfered. Take care that such future instances are resolved immediately.
When Joseph returned to the office, he spoke to the men about the incident.
Nobody is allowed to fight in Nauvoo but myself.

When Alma Elizabeth’s family reached Utah they settled in Mount Pleasant. As a pioneer she worked hard. She learned how to card and spin wool, weave carpets, milk cows, knit and crochet, make gloves out of buckskin, weave hats out of braided straw, stack hay, and bundle wheat.
One time she collected wheat left in the fields after the harvest and sold it for $10. With some of the money, she bought ten yards of calico for her first party dress.

I first visited this institution 59 years ago in the fall of 1959 when I was 19 years old. I was a student body officer at Utah State University and USU was playing the University of Hawaii in football. We student officers paid our own way but accompanied the football team on the same airplane. President David O. McKay, who was then the president and prophet of the Church, learned of our trip and invited us to meet with him at Church Headquarters. It was the first time I had met a prophet, and I was impressed with his countenance and his spirit. He was warm and gracious to us.

President McKay then told us about this institution with great enthusiasm. The school had only been in existence for 4 years, and he had dedicated the first permanent buildings the year before. He asked if we would meet with the students and administrators, give them his love and blessing and encourage them in every possible way.

I can remember to this day the feelings of awe that I experienced when I first saw this beautiful setting. The ocean, the mountains, the temple, the magnificent vistas are as inspiring today as they were then. As part of that trip, we also met with the new governor of Hawaii, William F. Quinn. Hawaii had been admitted as a new state in the United States August 21, 1959, just prior to our visit.

I began to evaluate my testimony in my late teens, when I enrolled at the University of Utah as a science student. I didn’t want to believe the gospel just because my mother and father said it was true. I wanted to know for myself. I needed my own light. I didn’t set out to challenge the gospel, but rather to discover its truth for myself.
I was a science student at the university, and I had heard some people say that science and religion are not compatible, that no one who is well educated can also have a testimony of the gospel. But I found out that this is not true. As a youth striving to get my own testimony and also as an aspiring scientist, I was overjoyed to find how comfortably science and religion fit together. I would like to share several insights that show how they fit.
Some people point out that science deals only with tangible, observable quantities: we can measure them on scales, or read them on ammeters, or count them electronically. These critics charge that religion is less reliable because it deals with faith and revelation, which we cannot touch or measure. But this distinction is not really accurate.
For example, I wrote my dissertation at the University of California at Berkeley on pion-nucleon interactions. I never saw a pion or a nucleon. I couldn’t touch them. And yet I published a scientific article on them.
We learn about inductance or magnetic field lines or capacitance. Has anyone seen or felt inductance or a magnetic field or capacitance? No; we can only measure their effects. So scientists sometimes also deal with the intangible, and they do this without intellectual embarrassment.
The scientific method of discovering truth is to forget one’s prejudices and make decisions in terms of the available data. This method also applies to gospel learning. The Lord gives us several examples of using this method. Concerning tithing, he said: “Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, … and prove me now herewith … if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.” (Mal. 3:10.) That is an experiment. Many people have testified that they’ve tried the experiment and that it works.
Alma also says, “Experiment upon my words.” (Alma 32:27.) He then goes on to compare the word to a seed that, if we will water and feed and nurture with faith, will let us know whether the message is good.
The Savior gave us another example. He said that if we want to know whether his doctrine is true and comes from the Father, we must “do his will.” Then, he promised, we “shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.” (John 7:17.) This is like the scientific method—simply judging on the basis of the data.
Some say that science has nothing to do with faith. But that is obviously not true. In the seventeenth century, the Italian astronomer Galileo invented telescopes that let him see farther into the heavens than man had seen before. He observed that the moon was not a smooth sphere shining by its own light. Instead, it has mountains and valleys, and its light is reflected. Galileo agreed with Copernicus that the earth moves around the sun, rather than being the center of the universe with everything turning around it.
Because these observations did not agree with the teachings of Aristotle and the Catholic Church, Galileo was subjected to a long trial and was punished for his beliefs. But he never lost faith in his discovery. His confident belief in what he had discovered was much like that confidence we call faith.
Of course, science and religion are not in perfect harmony. There is some disagreement over evolution, for example. Genesis, the Book of Moses, and the Book of Abraham tell us that God created the world, that he had a purpose in doing it, and that man is very important in that purpose. But these scriptures are not a handbook on how God created the worlds. They just say that he did it. Someday he will let us know how he did it. Science is theorizing on the how, but there need be no conflict when we remember what the Lord has told us and what he hasn’t.
I have faith that in due time the Lord will fulfill all the prophecies and predictions he has made and that these things will come about just as he has told us they will. Actually, if we have eyes to see, we have seen many of these fulfillments taking place in our day.
When I was a child, my family would put together a huge jigsaw puzzle each Christmas, one that would take a week to finish, with thousands of small, look-alike pieces. Each piece fit in only one place, and we could complete the picture only by placing each piece correctly. When the Lord allows the scientists to discover all their parts, and he sees fit to reveal his part, the “picture” of what scientists have learned and the “picture” of what God has done will be the same.
This is how I have come to look at the plan of the Lord. We need to stop worrying about each small piece and try to fit the whole picture together by keeping in mind the end result. The Lord knows where each piece goes and how it fits into his plan. Each of us should help by putting ourself, an intricate and important piece of that puzzle, in the proper place.

AUNT JANE, an AFRO-AMERICAN CONVERT, typifies the witness of thousands who saw the Prophet in life and death:
"We had come afoot, a thousand miles. We lay in bushes, and in barns and outdoors, and traveled until there was a frost just like a snow, and we had to walk on that frost. I could not tell you, but I wanted to go to Brother Joseph.
"I did not talk much to him, but every time he saw me he would say, "God bless you," and pat me on the shoulder. To Sister Emma, he said, 'go and clothe her up, go down to the store and clothe her up.' Sister Emma did. She got me clothes by the bolt. I had everything.
". . . . I could not begin to tell you what he was, only this way, he was tall, over six feet; he was a fine, big, noble, beautiful man! He had blue eyes and light hair, and very fine white skin.
When he was killed, I liked to a died myself, I felt so bad. I was sick abed, and the teachers told me.
You don't want to die because he did. He died for us, and now we all want to live and do all the good we can."

A family of four was initially contacted by sister missionaries, and from the very beginning the mother and her children often read in the Book of Mormon, prayed daily, and wanted to attend church. The father, however, resisted—unlike his wife, he was not of a Christian faith, and he did not yet feel prepared to reevaluate his beliefs.
The sister missionaries were inspired to focus their teachings on Jesus Christ. In their words:
“We taught about Joseph Smith, of his faith on Christ, what we learn about Christ from the First Vision, and the Prophet’s testimony of our Savior. Everything we ever read together or challenged them to read as a family out of the Book of Mormon was teaching them more about our Redeemer. That is when we started seeing the progress. They displayed a framed picture of Christ proudly in their family room—it was one we had given them as a gift.”
The father’s change of heart occurred when his wife announced that she wanted to be baptized and his sons decided to pray to know whether they should also be baptized. From that moment on, he read regularly in the Book of Mormon and prayed about baptism. His sincere desire to know whether the Church was true changed him, and he became a spiritual leader in his home. Just before he and his family were baptized, the father asked for a tithing slip and an envelope. He did not want to delay keeping the commandments for even one second.

When Bob Dunton answered the door, there were two Mormon missionaries standing on his doorstep, and one of them had a Book of Mormon in his hand. “A friend of yours has asked us to give you this,” they said. “Please read it and call us if you want to know more.”
Inside the cover Bob found a photograph of his friend Marvin Hansen and a letter. In the letter Marvin testified that the Book of Mormon was true and explained how he gained his testimony through reading the book and praying about its contents. He had been telling Bob about the Church for several years and Bob had been to church a number of times and was good friends with many Mormons, but he had never received a testimony. Now he began reading a little doubtfully. A wonderful Baptist grandmother would be hurt if he accepted the Church. Marvin had called special attention to Moroni, chapter ten, verses four through five [Moro. 10:4–5], and as Bob read these verses, his imagination suddenly caught fire. Time after time he was drawn back to these verses, and to prayer. At his invitation, the missionaries began giving him the discussions, and within two months he accepted baptism into the Church.
Some 500 copies of the Book of Mormon were purchased under this program, and a number of people are being taught by the missionaries as a result. At the outset of the program, the council determined that if one person came to know that the Book of Mormon was true, the program would be a success. Bob’s conversion fulfilled that goal and caused some internal rejoicing in the hearts of seminary students as well as some very external whoops of joy in the seminary halls and classrooms. But Bob wasn’t really the only convert. A number of faithful young members of the Church gained a much stronger testimony of the Book of Mormon as they read through it in preparation for writing the letters to be placed in their gift copies.