Gospel Story Finder

by Barbara Marler
“Threads of Forever” was the theme of a special service project undertaken at a biregional Young Women’s conference for the Dallas and Fort Worth Texas regions.
Ninety quilts were completed by 1,200 Young Women. Girls from 8 stakes and 72 wards steadfastly stitched for 9 months with the goal of donating their handiwork to homeless children.
The quilts were presented in a special luncheon. A local television broadcaster accepted the quilts on behalf of homeless children. In his acceptance, the newsman said, “Children become homeless because of unfortunate events in their past. They are victims of neglect or even abuse. For many of these children, this could be the first time that someone has truly cared.”
At first, the prospect of creating numerous quilts was a little overwhelming to some of the girls. Many had never quilted and felt that quilting was something that only grandmothers did. But the project turned out to be more fun than work.
The young men and women from the Honshu Japan Servicemen’s district held their annual youth conference in Tokyo. For many of the youth who came long distances, it was the first time they had seen Tokyo. In addition to discussion workshops held on a variety of subjects, the youth went to the Tokyo Temple to do baptisms for the dead. After three days of sightseeing and enjoying each other’s company, the highlight of the conference was the testimony meeting where the participants were able to express their feelings about the gospel.
Young men in the teachers quorum of the Draper Fifth Ward, Draper Utah Stake, felt a need to be unified. The younger members of the quorum did not feel close to the older members. In a few days of vacation from school, the group decided to explore a nearby part of their state together. Through shared experience they hoped to find new friendships.
The group drove a few hours south into a strangely bleak and beautiful area of Canyonlands National Park. With red sandstone cliffs, twisted pinnacles of rock, and flat-topped mesas, the land was as dramatic as they had hoped for.
The late nights spent talking around the campfire and the days filled with exploring the Anasazi Indian ruins and swimming in the nearby rivers served as a common ground around which new friendships could grow. Through the fun of being together, the group found new unity.

The Robinson children were all expected to take the scholarship examination and continue their education, but that wasn’t the route George wanted to take. In fact, the family contended that George deliberately failed the exams so that he could attend the Technical School where he wanted to go. While there, his favourite reading included novels by Robert Louis Stevenson such as Kidnapped and Black Beauty, which he would then narrate to his siblings at night before bedtime.

A few years ago, the Young Women general presidency gave us the 100 percent challenge: read the Book of Mormon every day, pray every day, and smile. I figured I would try it and keep at it for as long as I could. To my surprise, the challenge brought about a magnificent change in my life. I was happier, I had the Spirit with me, and I had a positive attitude. Even though I still had to face adversity, the strength of the Spirit helped me to endure happily.
Ariana G., 16, Virginia, USA

Wishing to join the Saints in Nauvoo, Jane and eight members of her family joined other converts and traveled from Connecticut to Buffalo, New York, in October 1843. There the others in their group boarded a boat to continue the journey, but the Manning family were denied passage because of their race. Jane and her family began walking the eight hundred miles to Nauvoo.

In her journal, she wrote, “We walked until our shoes were worn out and our feet became sore and cracked open.”

When the Manning family reached Peoria, Illinois, the sheriff threatened to put them in jail because they did not have papers to prove that they were free. Finally Jane convinced him that they had never been slaves.

Frightened by the experience, they moved on. They came to a river and crossed it by walking into the stream until the icy water swirled around their necks. As they continued their trek, they were often cold, hungry, and frightened. Sometimes they found shelter, but often they had to sleep in the open, even when snow fell. They relied on their faith and each other, and when conditions became unbearable, singing hymns and praying kept them going.

When they reached Nauvoo, Orson Spencer directed them to the home of the Prophet. Joseph and Emma Smith welcomed them, inviting the Mannings to stay at the Mansion House until they found homes. Eventually all the members of the Manning family found jobs except Jane. The Prophet and his wife urged her to stay with them.

Jane did stay for several months. When the Prophet was martyred, Jane grieved for him, saying, he was “the finest man I ever saw on earth.”

Following Joseph’s death, Jane lived with President Brigham Young’s family until the Saints fled Nauvoo. During that time, she met and married Isaac James, another free Black, who was also a member of the Church.

After the Saints left Nauvoo in 1846, Jane gave birth to a son, Silas, at Winter Quarters. When the first pioneers left Winter Quarters in 1847, the James family were in the lead company of the main encampment.

Jane’s family struggled during their first years in the Salt Lake Valley, and though they lacked even the most basic necessities, Jane shared what little she did have with her neighbors. When Brother Lyman, a neighbor, received a call to serve a mission in California, he left his family with few provisions. His wife, Eliza Partridge Lyman, wrote, “Jane James let me have two pounds of flour, it being half of what she had.”

Jane worked hard to provide for her family, spinning and weaving cloth, making her own soap, and raising a large garden. She also worked as a laundress to earn much needed cash. Just as it seemed the family was starting to prosper, Jane’s husband left them. Twenty years later, he returned and made his peace with Jane and the Church. Jane held his funeral in her home when he died in 1891.

Despite her meager earnings, Jane James donated to the building funds of the Logan, St. George, and Manti temples, as well as to the Lamanite Mission. When asked how she managed to care for her family and still contribute to the building of the kingdom, she replied, “I pay my tithes and offerings, keep the Word of Wisdom, go to bed early, and rise early. I try in my feeble way to set a good example to all.”

Jane died in 1908. President Joseph F. Smith and other General Authorities spoke at her funeral, praising her unwavering faith and commitment to the gospel.

When I was attending Brigham Young University, I learned what it truly means to be a queen. I was given a unique opportunity, along with a small group of other students, to meet the prophet, President David O. McKay. I was told to wear my best dress and to be ready to travel early the next morning to Huntsville, Utah, to the home of the prophet. I will never forget the experience I had. As soon as we entered the home, I felt the spirit which filled that home. We were seated in the prophet’s living room, surrounding him. President McKay had on a white suit, and seated next to him was his wife. He asked for each of us to come forward and tell him about ourselves. As I went forward, he held out his hand and held mine, and as I told him about my life and my family, he looked deeply into my eyes.

After we had finished, he leaned back in his chair and reached for his wife’s hand and said, “Now, young women, I would like you to meet my queen.” There seated next to him was his wife, Emma Ray McKay. Although she did not wear a crown of sparkling diamonds, nor was she seated on a throne, I knew she was a true queen. Her white hair was her crown, and her pure eyes sparkled like jewels. As President and Sister McKay spoke of their family and their life together, their intertwined hands spoke volumes about their love. Joy radiated from their faces. Hers was a beauty that cannot be purchased. It came from years of seeking the best gifts, becoming well educated, seeking knowledge by study and also by faith. It came from years of hard work, of faithfully enduring trials with optimism, trust, strength, and courage. It came from her unwavering devotion and fidelity to her husband, her family, and the Lord.

On that fall day in Huntsville, Utah, I was reminded of my divine identity, and I learned about what I now call “deep beauty”—the kind of beauty that shines from the inside out. It is the kind of beauty that cannot be painted on, surgically created, or purchased. It is the kind of beauty that doesn’t wash off. It is spiritual attractiveness. Deep beauty springs from virtue. It is the beauty of being chaste and morally clean. It is the kind of beauty that you see in the eyes of virtuous women like your mother and grandmother. It is a beauty that is earned through faith, repentance, and honoring covenants.

We have been taught that “the gift of the Holy Ghost … quickens all the intellectual faculties, increases, enlarges, expands and purifies all the natural passions and affections. … It inspires virtue, kindness, goodness, tenderness, gentleness and charity. It develops beauty of person, form and features.” Now, that is a great beauty secret! That is the beauty I observed in the home of a prophet. That day I learned that the beauty I saw in Sister McKay was the only beauty that really matters and the only kind of beauty that lasts.

David chuckled at them and rolled over onto his back, remembering how it was when he was only five and his mother was teaching him to swim. He had clung to her, scared but excited, until she finally went under the water and he went under with her, holding his breath for the first time. When they came up, he was laughing so hard that he couldn’t stop.
“What’s so funny?” she’d demanded. “You—your hair was going straight up!” It was the first of many days spent at the pond, giggling and splashing and laughing.

When I was in the 8th ward here on campus, Bishop Crowell once gave me a piece of sound advice. We were talking about appointments, and how most people are on time or early to their appointment with the bishop. Whether out of respect or fear, he told me to try something, and to see if it improved my relationship with the Lord. He told me to make an appointment with the Lord in prayer, and to set a date, time, and place that I would communicate with him. I tried it; in my night-time prayer, I designated a time and place where I would go the next day. I went there a few minutes early. I prayed, and I read my scriptures, and took some time to ponder. The Lord communicated with me because I went there specifically seeking guidance, and I had the desire to listen, or to hearken to his counsel.

Photograph from Getty Images
After faithfully serving a mission in Mozambique, I returned home and, like many other returned missionaries, quickly turned to my studies and work.
I lived in Brazil in a city that borders Paraguay and found employment importing products for a large supermarket on the Paraguayan side. The blessing of having learned English on my mission helped me gain this position. During this time, I was married and blessed with a daughter.
When a financial crisis in Brazil culminated in the decline of Brazil’s currency, my work was directly affected. It caused a decline in the sales of the products I regularly imported. By the end of February the following year, I was left with practically nothing to do. Losing my job was almost certain, as had been the case with other colleagues. I became worried about supporting my wife and little daughter. I even started looking for another job.
I spoke with my wife about the situation. She suggested that we fast. While we fasted, peace enveloped our hearts and we felt that all would be well, although I could not imagine how.
The following day at work, my manager called me in. I thought that the dreaded moment had come—I was about to lose my job. But to my surprise, my manager told me that he had an idea. Because I had ability with English, he proposed that I translate legal documents that normally were handed over to lawyers to arrange for translation. He told me if I succeeded in performing the translation, I would be given that task and it would result in a savings for the department. I immediately began translating the documents. When I presented my manager the successful translations, he was thrilled! I was thrilled too because I was able to remain employed.
When I went to receive my check, which could have been my last, I was surprised to see that my salary had increased. My heart was touched, and I was grateful to our Heavenly Father. Through this experience I know that fasting opens the windows of heaven.

About seven years ago, when I was 29, I moved to Utah from Oregon, USA. After weighing my options, I decided to attend my local family ward, thinking I needed a change from the singles wards I had attended.
My parents raised me to always accept Church callings, so I made an appointment with the bishop to present myself as someone who wanted to be put to work. It wasn’t long before I found myself teaching the five-year-olds in Primary, which I enjoyed. Five months later the bishop called me to be Primary president. I was stunned. “Can I do that?” I asked myself.
Being single and childless made me wonder if I was qualified to serve in that capacity. In my past experience with family wards, Primary presidents were happily married, accomplished, and devoted mothers. Remembering what my parents had taught me, however, I accepted the new assignment. The bishop truly took to heart the mandate that bishops are to “find meaningful callings for all young single adults.”1 The calling may have been a little more meaningful than I was expecting, but I was grateful for it.
As I served in my new calling, I experienced many sweet, funny, and inspiring moments with the children. One year, during Christmastime, we reenacted the Nativity for a special sharing time. We sang songs. We furnished robes and towel headdresses for the shepherds and for Joseph. We had tinsel garlands for the angels’ heads. We made cardboard and foil-covered crowns for the Wise Men.
As we reenacted the Christmas story and sang the sacred songs of the season, I noticed the beautiful young girl who was portraying Mary. Her example of reverence and gentleness as she knelt, quietly holding the doll that represented the baby Jesus, touched my heart. The spirit of that moment made me thankful to a loving Heavenly Father for our Savior and helped strengthen my testimony of His profound and loving mission. It also made me thankful for the tremendous blessing I had received in being called to serve and for an inspired bishop who helped to make that service possible.
In the Doctrine and Covenants, we read, “Therefore, if ye have desires to serve God ye are called to the work” (D&C 4:3). Though this verse is usually associated with missionary work, I like to think that it can refer to any form of gospel-based service.
Regardless of marital or social status, each of us is first and foremost a child of a loving Heavenly Father, who wants us to grow, belong, develop our talents, serve one another, and help one another return to Him.
The acceptance and love I felt in that ward was instantaneous and remains in my heart to this day. My desire to serve was recognized and utilized, many people reached out and welcomed me, and Heavenly Father truly blessed me. Because of kind and attentive leaders, I was blessed to teach and learn from some of His most wonderful children.

An officer of Goldman Sachs, a leading investment brokerage company, recently called me, and because I was out of town, he left a voice mail message with a name I recognized as one of my former missionaries. I called the man back and offered to provide a reference for this individual but was informed that that was the last thing he needed. The young man had been hired about four years ago as he graduated from BYU. The Goldman Sachs manager called me merely to update me and report how this young, new employee was doing. And what a report it was. I was told that this former missionary was a “star of Wall Street,” the “brightest young man we ever hired.” I thought this businessman was simply given to superlatives until I heard more of the story. This BYU graduate had gone to work for Goldman Sachs, then had been hired away by Merrill Lynch. After about a year Goldman Sachs managed to hire him back, but it cost them about as much as the university pays for three or four finance professors. Now, the manager told me, they were really worried because this young man will be taking a leave to get an MBA at Harvard this fall, and they are afraid some other firm will hire him away when he completes his degree.
How impressed I was to get this report. I suspect a big part of this young man’s bright future is not only his talent but the fact that he is trustworthy. How important it is that he be not only professionally good but morally so as well. How impressed I was that he would walk away from the kind of money he was making to pursue further education. Too many young people come to believe that education’s sole value is in providing a good job with a substantial income. These things are obviously not his motivation; he seeks education because he is anxious to improve himself. He is in fierce competition with himself.
Many of you anxiously seek some of the same rewards that have come to this young man. I remind you that you needn’t take shortcuts to such rewards. They will come to you as you do the right things and do honor to your family, to your community, to this university, and to the Church.

Both Elder and Sister Christofferson graduated from BYU in 1969. Elder Christofferson went on to pursue a law degree at Duke University. When he completed his schooling in 1972, he was hired as a law clerk to federal judge John J. Sirica, the judge who would later preside at the Watergate trials. Time magazine named Judge Sirica Man of the Year and called the Watergate affair “the worst political scandal in U.S. history.” The scandal and its legal trials pervaded the U.S. news in 1973 and 1974.
Elder Christofferson had planned to clerk for one year and then work for a prominent Washington, D.C., law firm, from which he had received an employment offer. Elder Ralph W. Hardy, now an Area Seventy, has spent his career as a member of that firm and remembers that in those difficult Watergate days, Judge Sirica called the firm’s managing partner and said, “I can’t let Todd go. He is too valuable. He is the only person I can talk to.” As a result, Todd assisted Judge Sirica throughout the Watergate proceedings.

After junior college, Kalin was heavily recruited. He made a recruiting trip to BYU. A couple of hours into the tour, Kalin used the phrase made famous by Brigham Young. “This is the right place.” He did have one condition before he would agree to come to BYU. He told the BYU coaches he wanted the chance to talk at firesides, to share his story with young people who might be helped by what he had to say. They smiled and said there would be no problem. He’d have more chances to speak than he would know what to do with.
Kalin’s interest in the choices young people are making with their lives has decided his major. He’s in social work. He intends to finish his degree and work with children. He’s so determined to make this goal that he is concentrating on finishing his degree and perhaps going on for a master’s.
Here’s the advice he has for kids: “Be your own person. Be a leader. The hardest thing is to stand up for yourself and what you believe in. Don’t get caught up in being a follower. If you have to, move on to another set of friends or be a loner for a while.”
As a running back on the BYU football team, Kalin’s athletic talents are evident. He’s hard to stop. But he has a very healthy attitude about sports in general. “Athletics is not the most important thing in the world. But they can be used as a positive tool in your life. For me, it’s been very positive.”
Football has given Kalin the opportunity to go to college. College led Kalin to the gospel. The gospel directed him to BYU, where he met and married his wife, Holly Hamilton, in the temple. The temple can lead them to an eternal family, a concept that is extremely meaningful to an only child who spent a lot of time alone.
If asked, Kalin will tell you about a favorite scripture. It’s the one in Alma about nourishing a seed (see Alma 32:28–43). Kalin says, “The seed was planted when I first started to turn my life around. Then the gospel came, and that’s when the seed was covered by the soil. When I read the scriptures, that’s when I nourished the seed, and it keeps growing as I gain more insight into the gospel. That’s how you progress.”
Sounds like a ball carrier who is on the ball.

But Te Oranoa M., age 17, from New Zealand has a different take on things. “What inspires me about this scripture,” she says, “is that it doesn’t say they are lost forever.”

What an incredible insight! And it’s one that comes from personal experience. “I, myself, fell away from the Church,” she says, “but I have been able to come back.”

Te Oranoa grew up in the Church and talks about gaining her own testimony and even setting spiritual goals. “But that testimony grew cold,” she says.

In some ways, she found common ground with Amulek, particularly in the way he described himself to the people of Ammonihah: “I did harden my heart, for I was called many times and I would not hear; therefore I knew concerning these things, yet I would not know” (Alma 10:6).

For Te Oranoa, that scripture hits close to home. “Just like Amulek, I knew all these spiritual things, and the Spirit was telling me to do certain things, but because I was being a bit stubborn and a bit prideful, I wouldn’t do them. Afterward, my testimony kind of faded away.”

In the end, Amulek’s story would become more than merely familiar to Te Oranoa. It would also become a turning point on the road back.

Even during the time when her faith had grown cold, she could still remember sweet experiences from before. Te Oranoa never forgot how she’d felt when attending the temple with her youth group or going to a youth conference.

“There was a pattern,” she says. “I’d feel really good when I came to church, but I didn’t feel good when I missed church.”

There finally came a day when Te Oranoa decided to see if she could connect with those good feelings again. The first thing she did was to read through recent general conference addresses.

An October 2016 general conference address, “Learn from Alma and Amulek,” by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, woke something in Te Oranoa’s soul. She recognized a lot of her own life and feelings as President Uchtdorf described how Amulek’s faith had faded. She also remembered more strongly than ever the happiness she had enjoyed when her faith was stronger. Instantly, she wanted to make some changes.

“I was hoping to find something to reignite that fire of my testimony,” she explains, “so I read President Uchtdorf’s talk, and yes, I felt on fire!”

Te Oranoa’s path back to faith hasn’t always been easy, but there is a particular light at the end of the tunnel that keeps her going: the hope of an eternal family.

“Families can be together forever,” she says. “That’s my biggest dream, my biggest hope in life. Whenever I want to learn about something, or I find a doctrine hard to understand, I try and relate it back to eternal families. For example, why is Jesus Christ’s Atonement important to me? For one thing, I need His Atonement in my life so I can be worthy to enter the temple and be sealed to my family for all eternity.”

It’s perhaps worth remembering that the people in Lehi’s vision who fell away after tasting the fruit did, in fact, still taste it. They must have known of its goodness, even if only briefly. And they can discover it again. That’s the hope Te Oranoa clings to, for herself and for others.

“You don’t have to keep going down those forbidden paths for the rest of your life,” she says. “You can turn back to the Lord whenever you want.”

The Primary children in the English-speaking branch in Bangkok, Thailand, had heard about their brothers and sisters in the Issan region of Thailand. They knew that they were very poor and that they had very few clothes to wear. In fact, they learned that the only change of clothing these children had was their school uniform, which they wore to school every day. They did not have any special clothes for Sunday.
Encouraged to begin to serve their fellowman in any way they could, the Primary children in Bangkok began a project to share what clothing they could spare with the children in the Issan region. They brought the clothing they wanted to donate to Primary, where the leaders made sure everything was clean, pressed, and mended. Clothing for about twenty children was then placed in plastic bags and tagged to show the size and age of the boy or girl who would receive it.
After missionaries serving in the region distributed the parcels of love, they reported some wonderful stories of gratitude:
Uthaiwan Arkomkong, age three, lives with her father and mother in a small room at the side of an equipment yard where her father works as a mechanic. Normally very shy, little Uthaiwan laughed and danced around the room when she put on the yellow ruffled dress that was in her package.
In the Srisaket Branch, two eight-year-old girls received dresses on the very day they were to be interviewed for baptism. They were happy to have their pictures taken in their new dresses on this special day.
When a pair of shoes was put aside by a teenager because they “squeezed her toes,” they were taken to Sister Pongsuwan, mother of three young daughters. “Do you want to be Cinderella?” asked Brother Dang as he knelt before her and slipped the shoes on her tiny feet. The shoes fit perfectly. Sister Pongsuwan danced and twirled with happiness, telling everyone that she had never had a pair of shoes before!
The love of the Primary children in Bangkok for their young brothers and sisters in the Issan region was returned many times with bright smiles and warm “thank yous” as gifts of the heart were exchanged—children to children.

One of the most miraculous stories is the heart surgery of President Spencer W. Kimball. At age 77 President Kimball who was the acting president of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles was dying of congestive heart failure. This was the diagnosis of his cardiologist, Dr. Wilkinson. And Dr. Russell M. Nelson, the heart surgeon, also determined that the surgery that was needed to save his heart was too complicated and too high a risk for someone of his age, terrible health, and heart condition. Besides all of these factors, Dr. Nelson had never performed this particular operation, which worried him immensely. However, in a meeting with these two doctors and the First Presidency, the first counselor, Harold B. Lee, pronounced that the Lord wanted Spencer W. Kimball to continue to live and to serve the Church. He stated that the surgery must be tried. President Nelson was extremely nervous. The night before the operation, President Harold B. Lee and President N. Eldon Tanner gave Dr. Nelson a blessing. In it, they promised that everything would go perfectly, that he would know what to do. In answer to that prayer, the day-long surgery did go absolutely right in every way. As President Kimball was slowly recuperating President Joseph Fielding Smith died, and 18 months later, the young and vigorous prophet President Harold B. Lee also died, leaving President Spencer W. Kimball at the helm. Many in the Church and in the world worried about his health. But Dr. Nelson wrote a letter that stated he had a healthy body and a healthier heart than he had had for many years. Miraculously, President Kimball led the Church for the next twelve years.

In December 1999 we were preparing for our annual Christmas trip to the Bern Switzerland Temple. The trip, a special tradition we began shortly after our marriage, is one way we commemorate the Savior’s birth.
We live about eight hours by car from the temple, and bad weather preceded our departure. Uprooted trees, a sharp wind, and icy roads would make the journey treacherous.
I felt uncertain and didn’t understand why we were encountering so many obstacles when we knew that the Lord wanted us to go to the temple. Would He not open our way?
My husband, Antonio, and I knelt in prayer with our children and said to our Heavenly Father that unless He told us differently, we would head for Bern the next day.
“If the road is truly impassable,” Antonio said after our prayer, “we’ll come back.”
I felt our decision was right, but I was still fearful. The next morning, full of doubt, I wanted to pray again. Antonio told me we had already received our answer, but he lovingly and patiently knelt beside me.
When we left, it was barely dawn and dark clouds hovered over us. As we drove, I could see a small bit of blue sky near the mountains. A timid ray of sun broke through the clouds.
That glimmer of sunshine strengthened my vacillating faith. Miraculously, the sun came out and the temperature rose. There was no fog, no ice, no wind—only a clear, extraordinarily warm winter day. My eyes filled with tears. It seemed that Heavenly Father had answered our prayers.
After we arrived at Bern, it began to snow heavily and continued to snow throughout our stay. As we headed to the temple before dawn the next morning, the storm turned into a blizzard. For a minute I was afraid, and I began to run along the sidewalk that leads to the temple.
Then a thought came into my mind: “This is the way it should be. The world howls at us with troubles, but we must run to the peace of the Lord found in His house.”
We had a wonderful time at the temple that Christmas season, but we worried about our trip home. The snow continued to fall, and our youngest son developed a high fever. On the day of our departure, however, the snow miraculously stopped, and our son’s fever broke after he received a priesthood blessing.
As the peace of the temple sustained us, a Bible verse came to my mind: “Is any thing too hard for the Lord?” (Genesis 18:14). With gratitude, I realized that no, it is not.

1. Cory prepares himself for baptism by attending Sunday School and Primary.
2. He also attends sacrament meeting with his family and friends.
3. Reading the scriptures helps Cory prepare himself.
4. Everyone in Cory’s family celebrates his birthday during family home evening.
5. Cory’s father and mother discuss with him the importance of his special birthday and what it means to be baptized.
6. Cory talks with his bishop about his worthiness and willingness to be baptized.
7. He also talks with our Heavenly Father and offers a special prayer for his baptism on Saturday.
8. At the baptism Cory sits with his father and some of his friends who are also being baptized. They all must be dressed in white.
9. After an opening song and prayer a short review is given about the importance of baptism.
10. Each child is helped into the water by the person who does the baptizing.
11. When it is Cory’s turn, his father shows him what to do.
12. Then Cory’s father raises his hand to the square, says the prayer, and baptizes him by immersion.
13. Cory’s family is very proud of him, especially Grandma and Grandpa.
14. After the baptism is performed, Cory and his father leave the baptismal font. Next fast meeting Cory will be confirmed a member of the Church and receive the gift of the Holy Ghost.

To illustrate this I should like to repeat a story related by Henry D. Taylor a few years ago in a talk which he gave at conference and which he entitled “Man Does Not Stand Alone.”
“A boy was extended an invitation to visit his uncle who was a lumberjack up in the Northwest. … [As he arrived] his uncle met him at the depot, and as the two pursued their way to the lumber camp, the boy was impressed by the enormous size of the trees on every hand. There was a gigantic tree which he observed standing all alone on the top of a small hill. The boy, full of awe, called out excitedly, ‘Uncle George, look at that big tree! It will make a lot of good lumber, won’t it?’
“Uncle George slowly shook his head, then replied, ‘No, son, that tree will not make a lot of good lumber. It might make a lot of lumber but not a lot of good lumber. When a tree grows off by itself, too many branches grow on it. Those branches produce knots when the tree is cut into lumber. The best lumber comes from trees that grow together in groves. The trees also grow taller and straighter when they grow together.’”
Then Brother Taylor made this observation: “It is so with people. We become better individuals, more useful timber when we grow together rather than alone.” (Conference Report, April 1965, pp. 54–55.)

I would like to share a personal experience in which I learned the value of serving others. This happened when I was called to serve as a young missionary back in 1965. I served in the Southern Far East Mission with headquarters in Hong Kong. After catching my last wave here at the Hukilau Beach and was then set apart by the Stake President, I went directly to Hong Kong by myself. Even though I am of Chinese ancestry I did not speak any Chinese which made it very difficult since there was no MTC in those days.

In Hong Kong I saw beggars on the street and even small children in ragged clothes begging for money. Seeing this made me wonder and question why they were suffering so much. Why was I born and raised in Hawaii where I had everything that I needed as to food, clothing and shelter. It seemed to me that God was unfair. It bothered me so much that I decided to talk to my Mission President. I shared my concern with him and he asked me if I had read the book, “The Challenge”, which was one of the books required for all missionaries to read along with” Jesus the Christ” and “Articles of Faith”.

I told him that I had not yet read it and he asked me to read it and then go back to visit with him. While reading the book I came across this statement made by Elder Alvin R. Dyer that answered my question.
How else can be explained the apparent inconsistencies in the birth of people?
Without a knowledge of the gospel plan, a man, if he thought of these things, would become hardened. But there is a plan that governs all, for life upon this earth is not the beginning. We are here in this life by virtue of what we have been before. This is a matter of vital concern because it helps us to understand that we enjoy our position because of what we have done in the pre-mortal life. Upon visiting with my Mission President again, he shared with me that we are born here to a specific family, a specific place and at a specific time based on our performance in the pre-mortal world.

The prophet Alma stated this in the Book of Mormon:
"And this is the manner after which they were ordained—being called and prepared from the foundation of the world according to the foreknowledge of God, on account of their exceeding faith and good works; in the first place being left to choose good or evil; therefore they having chosen good, and exercising exceedingly great faith, are called with a holy calling, yea, with that holy calling which was prepared with, and according to, a preparatory redemption for such."
After sharing this scripture with me, he told me the fact that I was born in Hawaii and those children whom I saw were born in Hong Kong or China did not make me better than them.
He further taught me that I now had a greater responsibility to share the Gospel with others and then he had me read another scripture:
"For of him unto whom much is given much is required."
After the visit with my Mission President I began to ponder and realized that I was given much and now it was required of me to serve with all of my heart, might, mind and strength. I made up my mind then that I would consecrate myself to the Lord not only while on my mission but also throughout my whole life. I vowed that I would accept every calling in the Church and do my very best to magnify it.

For a long time I stared at that white card, and I remembered what it was like to move into a new school. Two years earlier I had been the new kid. At first I was afraid and was sure that everyone in the whole school was staring at me. Then Brandon invited me to sit next to him in class. His friends became my friends. We sat in the cafeteria together. We played at recess together. That very first afternoon he even invited me to his house after school.

I thought about Darren’s first day. No one had spoken to him. No one had invited him to join them. No one had eaten lunch with him. No one had asked him over after school to play. And all during the day, he had been forced to face the silent, scary stares from the rest of us.

As I stared at Sister Murray’s white card, I realized that although I had thought Darren was different from the rest of us, he really wasn’t. He had a different color of skin, and darker eyes and hair, but he felt and hurt just like the rest of us. He didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to have friends. He wanted to play. He wanted to go places without everyone staring at him.

Suddenly I felt sorry for Darren. I decided that by really feeling sorry for him, I was doing what Alma talked about at the waters of Mormon. I told myself that that was all I needed to do, that that was all I could do without the whole school staring at me like I was someone extra strange. I changed my clothes and rushed outside to play.

The next day I grabbed my football and charged out of the house for school. Before I could leave the yard, I slid to a stop. There were Darren and Tanya coming down the street on their way to school. Barry and Trevor were fifteen or twenty steps behind them. I saw Barry pick up something and toss it toward Darren and Tanya. Then Trevor said something that I couldn’t hear, and both of them burst out laughing. Darren and Tanya just kept walking with their eyes straight ahead.

Instead of starting down the street close to Darren and Tanya, I pretended to have forgotten something and slipped back inside the house until all four of them were far down the street. I tried as hard as I could to not think about the white card stuck on the mirror in my bedroom.

During the day, there were several times that I could have said something to Darren, but I didn’t.
I didn’t stare at him and snicker like some of the other kids, but I didn’t try to comfort him at all. At lunchtime, I was right behind him in the line, and when he went to sit down, I almost followed him to his table. Then Brandon called to me from another table, and I went over to him.

By the end of the day, I was glad that it was Friday because I had a whole weekend without having to think about or to see Darren. On Saturday, I hardly thought about him. By Sunday morning when I was rushing about to get ready for church, Darren was the last thing on my mind.

As sacrament meeting started, I sat on the bench next to Mom. She teaches Primary and had her manual and lesson materials piled neatly on the floor in front of her. Right on top was a picture of Jesus wearing a red and white robe. And He was staring right at me. We sang the sacrament hymn, and I began to think about my white card with those special baptismal promises written on it, promises that I was about to renew when the deacons brought the bread and water around. I was going to promise to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and I knew—and I knew that Jesus knew—that for me that promise included Darren.

For a moment I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see that picture of Jesus looking up at me. But I could still feel His eyes staring at me. They didn’t stare at me like the eyes at school stared at Darren and Tanya. Jesus’ eyes were asking me to do something for Darren.

That Sunday was the first time that I was a little afraid to take the bread and water as it came down the row toward me. I knew that I wasn’t eating plain old bread or drinking regular old water. I was supposed to be thinking of Jesus and promising to do what I thought He would do if Darren was in His class at school.

I hesitated as Mom handed me the bread tray. In fact, I hesitated so long that Mom nudged me. Slowly I reached out and took a small piece of bread. When I did, I knew that I was repeating the promise I’d made three years ago, when Dad had led me down the tile steps into the baptismal font. For me, that shiny clean baptismal font was the same as the waters of Mormon for Alma’s people.

On Monday morning, I said an extra long prayer because I needed all the help and courage I could get. I grabbed my football, slipped out the door, and looked up and down the street. Darren and Tanya were still over a block away. Barry and Trevor were a few steps behind them.

I knew that I could start for school without running into Darren just yet. I could wait until I was in Mrs. Riley’s class and look for a chance to be nice to Darren there. Then I thought of that picture of Jesus, dressed in His red and white robe, staring up at me.

I gripped my ball and waited for Darren and Tanya. I was going to keep a promise.

“Hi, I’m Steve,” I said with a nervous smile. “I think you and I are in the same class.” I glanced anxiously down the street toward Barry and Trevor; then my gaze returned to Darren and Tanya. “Do you mind if I walk with you?”

Darren thought a moment and then shook his head. I smiled and took a deep breath because my heart was pounding and my hands were shaking a little bit. I tossed my football to Darren and he caught it. “Good hands,” I said. “Do you like football?”

“I love it! I used to play at my old school.”

“He was good, too!” Tanya spoke up, grinning up at her brother and then over at me.

“Then you’ll have to play with us. We can always use a good football player.”

We started down the sidewalk. I heard Trevor and Barry snicker, and I knew that they were staring behind us, but I kept walking with Darren and Tanya.

“Did you think of a frightening experience to write about in class?” I asked, remembering an assignment that Mrs. Riley had given us on Friday.

Darren laughed. “I can think of a lot of scary experiences that I’ve had. I haven’t written anything down yet, though.”

“Mrs. Riley said we could work in pairs. Maybe you and I can work together,” I invited. “We can help each other come up with something really good.”

When we reached the school, we went over to where the guys were starting the morning football game before the bell rang. As we approached, the playing stopped for a moment and all eyes were on Darren, Tanya, and me. No one said anything, but I could feel all of those staring eyes on me.

For a moment, I wished that I had hurried to school without waiting for Darren and his sister. I wasn’t used to those staring eyes. Then I realized that ever since Darren had entered this school, he had been facing those same staring eyes all the time. There was no place for him to run and hide from them, and those eyes hurt him as much as they hurt me—probably even more.

“Darren’s going to play with us this morning,” I burst out boldly. “Before he came here, he played a lot of football. He’ll be on my team. We can play with my ball.” I silently prayed that my voice wouldn’t crack or shake as I spoke. I didn’t want anyone to know how scared I was.

“We don’t need any extra guys,” Rusty spoke up, staring up at Darren and me.

“We can always use someone good like Darren,” I came back. “He’s playing,” I repeated. “Go out for a pass,” I said, turning to him.

While all eyes were on us, Darren raced across the field. I gripped the ball, cocked my arm, and threw with all my might. My pass was a little high and a little long. I figured that Darren would probably miss it. But just as it sailed over his head, he leaped and stretched out his arms. The ball touched his fingertips. It was as though they had invisible glue on them, because he held onto the ball, pulled it into his chest, and clutched it tightly as he fell to the ground.

“Awesome!” I heard someone mumble behind me. “What a catch!”

I grinned and waved Darren back to us. “Come on, Darren, we’ll kick off.”

The eyes still stared, but I didn’t mind them so much, because I remembered the promise I had made the day before, when I had taken the bread and water. Into my mind came the picture of Someone in a red and white robe with His eyes staring at me. As I raced across the field alongside Darren, I was glad for His staring eyes and how good they now made me feel.