Gospel Story Finder

John Halliday’s name appears on several documents relating to the Church in Wiltshire in the middle of the nineteenth century. Born in Trowbridge in 1819, he was the oldest child of Stephen and Jane Halliday. In 1836 he emigrated to America. Sometime between 1836 and 1842 he was baptised a member of the Church.
Sometime in 1844 John was sent back to Britain as a missionary, bringing his wife, Emily, and their youngest child with him. They would remain in Britain until the spring of 1850.
Two main sources provide information on John’s activities during those years: the Millennial Star and records from Salisbury Diocese, which detail applications to register ‘dissenter’ places of worship. ‘Dissenters’ were any denomination other than the Church of England.
The following applications were made by John Halliday to register places of worship in Wiltshire: [Table 1 Inserted as image)
Steeple Ashton was something of a stronghold of the Church in the mid-nineteenth century, as shown by the number of different locations registered for worship, and several histories have been written about the village residents who converted.1 As the list also shows, meeting places were most commonly family homes, particularly in villages. Many of the early converts emigrated, so by the end of the century most of the branches had been disbanded and no purpose-built Church meetinghouses are known to have existed in Wiltshire until the twentieth century.
John Halliday made the applications to register places of worship for the Church because of the leadership role he held in the area during his missionary service. Halliday was responsible for a total membership of 350 spread across eleven congregations, in three counties.
In May 1848 Halliday reported continuing success in a letter to Orson Spencer, then president of the British LDS mission. The letter was printed in the Star:
“Indeed I have never travelled so much and preached so often with so much satisfaction since my arrival in England; and what is better, I have never felt in better spirits for the battle, either in-doors or out in the public Market-place.“2
In October of the same year, he also reported:
“Large additions have been made to the kingdom of our God. I think we have baptized since conference over 100, and the elders and officers feel ripe and ready for the harvesting.”3
The work of John Halliday and his fellow missionaries, with the associated growth in Church membership, did not go unnoticed or unopposed. Writing to Franklin D. Richards (1821–1899) in December 1847, Halliday stated, “Since I wrote last to you, the officers of the law have interfered in our behalf, and last week we had quietness again,”4 showing that opposition was serious enough for Church members to seek police protection to be able to worship as they pleased.
John Halliday was central to the mission and growth of the Church in Wiltshire in the mid-nineteenth century. He was evidently a man of faith and conviction, and was willing to put that conviction to work, to help spread the good news of the restored gospel which he and his wife and brother had embraced. He was still a young man when he died, but we can say with some certainty that a wish he expressed in May 1848 was fulfilled: “My prayer to God is, that I may continue faithful.”5

When Elder Gerrit W. Gong was a young man, he really wanted to play school basketball. “I practiced and practiced,” he said. “One day the coach pointed to our 6-foot-4-inch (1.93 m) all-state center and our 6-foot-2-inch (1.88 m) all-star forward and said to me, ‘I can put you on the team, but you’ll likely never play.’ I remember how kindly he then encouraged, ‘Why not try out for soccer? You’d be good.’ My family cheered when I scored my first goal.”1
Elder Gong learned that remembering the assistance of others helps us acknowledge the Savior’s hand in our lives and helps us remember that we are never alone.

One of my missionaries came to me some time ago. He was a fine missionary. I asked him, "Elder, how can I help you?"
"President," he said, "I think I'm losing my testimony."
I couldn't believe it. I asked him how that could be possible.
"For the first time I have read some anti-Mormon literature," he said. "I have some questions, and nobody will answer them for me. I am confused, and I think I am losing my testimony." He said he had counseled with his bishop and his stake president. They had simply told him not to read any more such literature and to forget it. But he was still very confused.
I asked him what his questions were, and he told me. Leaders should answer questions, so I said to him that I would provide answers to all of his questions. I set an appointment in10 days for him to return to receive an answer to every one of his questions. As he was about to leave, the Spirit prompted me to say: "Elder, you've asked me several questions here today." "Now I have one for you."
"Yes, President?"
"How long has it been since you read from the Book of Mormon?"
His eyes dropped. He looked at the floor for a while. Then he looked at me. "It's been a long time, President," he confessed.
"All right," I said. "You have given me my assignment. It's only fair that I give you yours. I want you to promise me that you will read in the Book of Mormon for at least one hour every day between now and our next appointment." He agreed that he would do that.
Ten days later he returned to my office, and I was ready. I pulled out my papers to start answering his questions, but he stopped me.
"President," he said, "that isn't going to be necessary." Then, with tears in his eyes, he explained, "I know that the Book of Mormon is true. I know Joseph Smith is a prophet of God."
I said, "That's wonderful news, Elder, but you're going to get answers to your questions anyway. I worked a long time on this, so you just sit here and listen."
And so I answered all of those questions, and then asked "Elder, what have you learned from this?"
And he said, "Give the Lord equal time."

After two weeks of constructing carnival booths, baking cookies, and wrapping candy and prizes, the youth, of the Ventura California Stake were ready for their “Getting to Know You” session with retarded young people.
Nestled against low hills and surrounded by lush landscaping, the Camarillo State Hospital is home to over 200 severely retarded youths. These young people were greeted on a one-to-one basis by their “friends for a day” and led from booth to booth where they earned rewards for achievement, stopping now and then to sway and dance a little to a youth band.
In the afternoon, 150 more young Latter-day Saints joined the group, and it was not uncommon to see a patient, hand-in-hand with an LDS youth, being led around the crowd and personally introduced.
Randy Jabbs, in charge of one of the booths, commented, “This was a good project, a big learning process. It has let us know some of the problems to be coped with.”
Steve Moore, a young patient, said that the fish pond was his favorite booth and then summed it up for many others when he said, “Best of all, I found a friend!”

When I was the Young Women class president, we started out with only five girls in the class. But then a new girl moved in, and we wanted to help her feel welcome and included.
I started out not knowing her that well, but I tried to be extra nice to her. After a while, the “extra nice” just became the normal amount of nice as she became my friend. I began to understand how God loves His children. I was able to feel that love for the girls in my class. Serving others helps me feel genuine love toward them.

In addition to collecting offerings, deacons have helped the needy by donating muscle power: painting houses, raking leaves, shoveling walks, running errands. Illustrative is a case that took place near the turn of the century when deacons aided two families in their ward:
“On the tenth of May, the Deacon’s quorum, with the consent of the Bishopric, assembled at the beet field of Sister __________, whose husband had recently died. The quorum with the aid of relatives, to the number of sixty-eight, went to work, and they cultivated and thinned nine acres of beets before they quit the field. This work lifted a heavy load off the family of Sister __________, was in great distress at the time.
“A few days later, the Deacons went to the farm of Sister __________, a widow, and thinned several acres of beets for her also.”

Janet was new in my class. I knew right away that she wasn’t someone I wanted for a friend because whenever Mrs. Shell said anything to her, she put her finger in her mouth and said, “Duuuuuh,” then laughed as if it were really funny. A lot of other kids laughed too. Mrs. Shell didn’t.
On the playground, Janet was a bully. One day she was pushing a little kid around until a teacher stopped her. When she called the teacher a name, she was sent to see the principal. From then on, it seemed that Janet spent almost as much time in the principal’s office as she did in our classroom.
I stayed away from her because she was always getting into trouble. She didn’t like me, anyway. She couldn’t call me by my name, Esther—she called me Redhead-Wet-the-Bed. I thought she enjoyed being mean.
In January I went into the Merrie Miss class in Primary. There were seven girls in my class, but only six of us came. Janet was the seventh. When Sister Card asked us about Janet, we told her what kind of a girl Janet was. She hadn’t been to church since her family had moved into the neighborhood, so we hadn’t even known that she was a member.
Sister Card went to Janet’s house several times to invite her to Primary, but she didn’t come. Nobody in her family came to church. Sister Card suggested that we try something as a class to see if we could get Janet to come to Primary. We weren’t very eager to do it, because we were all a little bit afraid of her. She was different from us, and we didn’t understand her. But Sister Card said she would help us, so we finally agreed.
We had a hard time deciding what to do. “Maybe we need to try to understand why Janet acts and talks the way she does,” said Sister Card. “That might help us come up with a good idea.”
I knew why she acted and talked like she did. I said, “Her whole family acts and talks like that, even her mother and father. I’ve heard them when I walk past their house.”
“Yes, I suppose they do,” said Sister Card sadly. “Do you think there are any other reasons for her behavior?”
“Maybe she’s lonely,” said Christina.
“Maybe she is,” said Sister Card. “What do you think we could do to help her realize that we like her?”
“Let’s be pixies to her for a week!” said Mandi excitedly.
“That’s a good idea,” Sister Card said, smiling.
Well, we planned to deliver something to Janet every day for a week, beginning on Sunday. It was kind of scary going up to her porch after dark to ring the doorbell and hope we could run and hide fast enough to not get caught. Each night it got to be more and more of a challenge because everyone in her family began watching for us. We decided to reveal ourselves on Saturday and take her a necklace with a little gold heart and a note telling her that we loved her and wanted her to come and be part of our Primary class.
Ringing the doorbell and hiding had been fun, but meeting Janet face-to-face was going to be different. We were all nervous, even Sister Card, because we didn’t know what Janet would do or say. As we stood on the porch, getting ready to ring the doorbell, the door flew open and Joel, Janet’s eight-year-old brother, yelled, “I caught you!”
We must have all jumped a foot in the air. Then we started laughing. Finally Sister Card asked if Janet was home. Joel left us standing on the porch while he went to look for her.
Just when we began to think they had forgotten us, Janet appeared at the door. She looked a little uncertain when she saw all of us standing there.
“Hello, Janet,” Sister Card said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I’m Sister Card, your Primary teacher. You remember me, don’t you? And I think you already know all of these girls from school.”
Janet barely nodded her head.
Sister Card then looked at us expectantly. We had decided earlier that we couldn’t let Sister Card do all the talking, or Janet might think it was only the teacher who wanted her to come to Primary. We looked at each other, and then Kelly said, “We wanted to do something special for you so that you would know that we like you.”
“Yeah,” I said, feeling a bit more courageous. “We hope you got all the things we’ve been bringing you.”
Before I could go on, Janet said, “Oh, so it was you guys who were bringing that stuff. I guess you’re trying to bribe me into going to Primary. That’s kind of what they tried to do where we lived before, too, but it didn’t work. I just don’t like to go to church.”
We were all stunned. No one said anything. Janet looked triumphant, like she had just scored a crucial point.
Then Sister Card spoke. “No, Janet, we’re not here to bribe you. We brought you those gifts to let you know that we like you, just as Kelly said. We brought one more today.” She handed Janet the necklace, beautifully wrapped in a small box, accompanied by a card with the note we had all signed.
“Thanks,” Janet said, as she took the gift, “but don’t expect to see me at church.”
And she went inside and closed the door.

It all started when I saw a copy of the Book of Mormon and later went to the Ohio State Fair in 1972 to get a copy for myself. That week I read about Joseph Smith and the golden plates. I was fascinated by the story, but I could not believe that the Book of Mormon was the word of God. College was to start in a week, and I knew I wouldn’t have time to read the book after returning to campus. On Friday I prayed to know if the book were true, and if it were, I asked the Lord to give me time to read it.
Two days later I was in an automobile accident. I had to stay in the hospital for a few days and have a pin put in my broken ankle. The doctor told me I would be unable to go to school that semester. That really woke me up. I remembered what I had asked two days before, and I immediately began reading the Book of Mormon and the pamphlets I had picked up at the fair.
Two months after the accident two elders came and knocked on our door. My sister and I decided to receive the discussions, and I invited a friend to the first lesson.
For the second discussion I invited another friend also. The elders were transferred and two others continued to teach us. My sister’s boyfriend joined us in taking the discussions. My two friends and I were baptized in March 1973.
I arranged for two of my cousins to take the discussions at my house. My cousins, my sister, and her boyfriend Larry were baptized in May. Larry talked his sister into taking the discussions. He baptized her in August.
In October my sister married Larry. While at the wedding reception one of the missionaries talked to another of my cousins. She started asking questions about the Church. She was baptized in December.
Two of my friends came out to the Young Adult activities, and I suggested that they listen to the discussions. They are now members of the Church.
Beginning with a Book of Mormon, a prayer, and two missionaries knocking on my door, there are now 11 converts in the Church. The missionary program is important to me.
“Before they came there was no light: when they left there was no darkness.”

That afternoon, orders came from firemen to evacuate the mission home so it could be dynamited and razed in an effort to clear a fire line. Drawers, beds, rugs, furniture, record books, and suitcases went onto a horse-drawn dray that took them to a small park two blocks away. Here the load was placed in a compact pile and covered with a carpet, under which some of the elders tried to sleep that exciting night. The fine organ recently given to the branch by the mayor and other friends was safely stored with one of the members.
On Thursday, as the fires and dynamiting continued, the Robinson family and several other Saints relocated in Golden Gate Park—a day late for the scheduled picnic! There they were better off, they knew, than other homeless members camped in Jefferson Square, where sanitary conditions were abhorrent. For food, the Saints took turns waiting in bread lines which ran four abreast and blocks long; two or three loaves per person was the limit—if supplies outlasted the line. A special pass allowed President Robinson to cross the bay to Oakland for bread, bringing back “two suitcases full each day, distributing the same to the women and children in greatest need in four parks we visited.”

The influence of your mother will bless you throughout life, especially when you serve as a missionary. Long years ago, Elder Frank Croft was serving in the state of Alabama. While preaching to the people, he was forcefully abducted by a vicious gang, to be whipped and lashed across his bare back. Elder Croft was ordered to remove his coat and shirt before he was tied to a tree. As he did so, a letter he had recently received from his mother fell to the ground. The vile leader of the gang picked up the letter. Elder Croft closed his eyes and uttered a silent prayer. The attacker read the letter from Elder Croft’s mother. From a copy of that letter, I quote:

“My beloved son, … remember the words of the Savior when He said, … ‘Blessed are ye when men shall revile you and persecute you and say all manner of evil against you falsely for my name’s sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad for you will have your reward in Heaven for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you.’ Also remember the Savior upon the cross suffering from the sins of the world when He had uttered these immortal words, ‘Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ Surely, my boy, they who are mistreating you … know not what they do or they would not do it. Sometime, somewhere, they will understand and then they will regret their action and they will honor you for the glorious work you are doing. So be patient, my son, love those who mistreat you and say all manner of evil against you and the Lord will bless you and magnify you. … Remember also, my son, that day and night, your mother is praying for you.”

Elder Croft watched the hateful man as he studied the letter. He would read a line or two, then sit and ponder. He arose to approach his captive. The man said: “Feller, you must have a wonderful mother. You see, I once had one, too.” Then addressing the mob, he said: “Men, after reading this Mormon’s mother’s letter, I just can’t go ahead with the job. Maybe we had better let him go.” Elder Croft was released without harm.

The day of the yearly dogsled race had arrived! Jody was up early and put on her warmest clothes. She smelled hot cereal as she walked into the kitchen. “Oatmeal again?” she asked, wrinkling her nose.
“You’ll need it on this cold day,” said her mother.
Jody filled a blue ceramic bowl with the hot oatmeal, put milk and brown sugar on it, and began to gulp it down.
“You don’t have to eat so fast,” Mom said. “The race isn’t for an hour yet.”
Jody tried to calm down, but her stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering. “I sure want to win those ice skates,” she said. She pictured herself gliding over the ice, then twirling into a spin like the professionals. But first she needed some skates.
After breakfast Jody put on another sweater, a hat, scarf, gloves, and her green parka. She tied a cotton bandanna loosely around her neck. If a cold wind blew off the lake, she could pull it up over her nose and mouth for warmth.
“Bye, Mom,” Jody said, kissing her mother.
Mom hugged Jody and wished her good luck. Jody bounded out the door and into the garage, where she pulled her small sled from a corner. The sled was old and scarred, but it would serve. Besides, it was the dog that counted, and Jody had managed to get the best. Ellie Manning had said that she could use her beautiful collie, Tasha. The dog had pulled lots of sleds, and Ellie would be there to encourage Tasha from the sidelines.
When Jody knocked on the Manning door, Ellie’s mother answered. “Hello, Jody,” she said quietly.
“Is Ellie ready?”
Mrs. Manning shook her head. “I’m sorry, Jody. Ellie has a sore throat and can’t go out in this cold.”
Jody’s smile faded, and she struggled not to cry. Then Ellie came into the foyer. “I’m sorry, Jody,” she said. “Mom doesn’t want me to get really sick like I did last winter.”
“That’s OK,” Jody said. Her stomach had a hollow ache in it.
“You can still use Tasha, if you like,” Ellie offered.
Jody’s heart leaped to her throat. “I can? Oh, thank you, Ellie! I promise I’ll take good care of her.”
Ellie whistled, and the collie ran to her. Jody laughed when Tasha crouched excitedly like a puppy, her back end sticking up.
“Good luck,” Ellie called as Jody and Tasha went out the door, where Jody fastened the sled harness onto Tasha.
When Jody arrived at the racecourse that circled the lake, only ten other contestants were there. The bitter cold and biting wind had probably kept others from competing.
Jody pulled her bandanna up over her mouth and nose. Carefully she lined Tasha up with the other dogs, then gave the collie a biscuit and waited for the race to begin.
The whistle blew, and they were off. Tasha ran bravely and boldly. “Good girl,” Jody called, coaxing the dog to go faster.
Jody looked back to see how the other racers were doing. A few dogs, shivering in the cold, hadn’t budged. One large black dog was going in the opposite direction! Only three were making any progress at all.
They passed the quarter- and half-mile marks, where small groups of hardy rooters cheered them on. At the three-quarter-mile mark, Jody felt Tasha slow down. She glanced at the snow and saw traces of blood. “Oh, Tasha! What’s wrong, girl?” She stopped the sled and knelt to look at the collie’s paws. One was bleeding quite a bit. She must have stepped on a sharp piece of ice or something! Jody thought. Looking back, she saw that none of the other sleds were even close to her! She could easily win the race since there was only a quarter mile to go! Then she looked again at the injured paw. Remembering her promise to Ellie, Jodi prayed, “Heavenly Father, please help me make the right choice. I want to help Tasha, but I’m so close to winning the skates …”
When Jody stood, she knew what she had to do. She took off her bandanna and tied it around Tasha’s paw. Then she put the collie onto the sled and pulled her to the Mannings’ house.
“Thank you for bringing her home,” said Mrs. Manning after Jody explained what had happened. “If you hadn’t stopped, Tasha might have been permanently injured. We’ll call the veterinarian right away.”
Jody’s tears wet her face on the way home. She knew that she had made the right choice, but it still hurt to have come that close to winning the race and then have to drop out. When she got home, she changed out of her damp, cold clothing.
Later, while she was making some hot chocolate, her mother came into the kitchen with a big box in her hands. “This is for you,” she said.
Jody’s heart leaped when she opened the box and saw a pair of ice skates with sparkling blades. “Did you buy them, Mom?”
Her mother shook her head. “Mrs. Manning called the judges and told them what happened. Then they called me. They decided to award you the skates because none of the other contestants got as far as you and Tasha did.”

May I tell you about an experience of another young man, whom I will call Bill. At eighteen, he was in his first year at the university. He was on scholarship and was anxious to maintain a good grade point average. So he signed up for a speech class that he supposed would be easy.
One day the teacher said, “Students, in my last twenty-five years of teaching, I’ve given only five A’s, the top grade.” Bill was very disappointed. He tried to transfer from the class, but it was too late to do so. Over the months he received B’s, B-minuses, and once in a while, a B-plus, but never an A. He was discouraged.
Then came the last talk of the semester which would determine half of the final grade. The assignment was to speak for twenty-five minutes, defending a stand on a controversial subject. The class would be allowed to critique the talk orally, and each class member would give a written critique.
As the day he was to speak approached, Bill could not seem to decide on a topic. He prayed about it. Then an impression came to him: “If you’re looking for a controversial subject, choose the Book of Mormon.”
Bill was fearful, knowing that he was the only member of the Church in the class. His teacher, an active member of a Protestant church, had quoted from the Bible throughout the semester and made it clear that she considered the Bible the only revelation from God to man.
The day of his presentation, as Bill announced his subject, the class became very silent. Hoping not to offend anyone—especially his teacher—he began talking about the Book of Mormon within an historical and academic framework. Then, about halfway through, the Spirit came upon him. “I can’t just tell them historically about this book,” he thought. “I don’t care what they think of me, or what happens to my grade. The Book of Mormon is true, and they all ought to know it.”
He began teaching as he had learned to teach investigators while he was a stake missionary. He bore his testimony frequently and even concluded in the name of Jesus Christ.
He waited for the attack. To his astonishment, not a word came from the students. The teacher encouraged them to attack, but they would not. Not one word was spoken. Finally, in frustration, the teacher said, “Be seated, Bill.”
The written student reviews were all positive. Four or five wrote, “You have almost convinced me of the truth of what you said.” One student, who had been particularly critical of the other students’ presentations, wrote, “I really would like to know more about your church.” To Bill’s delight, he received an A in that class. But even if he had failed the class, he still would have been blessed for his efforts to follow the Spirit’s promptings. The Lord has commanded all of us “to stand as witnesses of God at all times, and in all things, and in all places that you may be in.” (Mosiah 18:9.) Truly he blesses those who, in faith, are “not ashamed of the gospel of Christ.” (Rom. 1:16.)

Each of us must pass through our own gethsemanes or ultimate trials. There is probably no greater gethsemane for saint or sinner that the death of one of our children. Just minutes after he learned of his ten-year-old daughter’s accidental death, a father I know wrote a letter to her. Note how this good man’s gethsemane became a sanctifying experience because of his knowledge of the gospel and the gift he had received of the Comforter. Contrast his reaction with what it might have been without the light of the gospel (I quote it with his permission):
“If you may be permitted to listen, these are some thoughts your dad would like to express in his and your mom’s hour of joy and sorrow.
“You have been an angel of light in our home. Even in your passing you have sanctified the experience by the sweet sorrow of this temporary parting. As I sit in this hotel room many miles from home and only moments after hearing of your passing, I have confidence that you are really home. It’s pleasing to know that you are not held back by the troublesome physical limitations you accepted and lived with in such an adorable, non-complaining way.
“Mom and I and your seven brothers and sisters are better because you came to our home. Soon after your birth, because you needed special medical care and attention, you helped us to accept fear and the unknown; to better love others with physical, emotional, or mental challenges; and to ask and plead with our Father, who today you know better than we do. As you grew older, we learned determination from you. You had every right to spill your milk but never did. You averaged 97 percent in spelling for an entire year and by strong determination struggled with mathematics. You sat with your mom and read every night without a complaint. Yes, we did our best to help you learn, but what we learned from you cannot be printed in books—cannot be written because it is almost too sacred to describe.
“We pray for all of us whom the Lord expects to stay here on the earth for yet a while. Our prayers are that we will be worthy to be reunited with you and to see you whole and perfect. Oh, how we would have love to have you stay! How we would love to hear you say, as you did, ‘I love you’! How we’d thrill to feel that clinging embrace! Oh, yes, especially today.”

As one of the best center-forwards for his age, this ox-strong young man is said to have the ability to score from anywhere. Surprisingly, watching football (soccer) didn’t interest David when he was young. “My older brothers had to push me into playing with them to make up the numbers,” he remembers.

But by the age of 11, David’s talents for the sport were obvious. Selected as the best player in his school, David was chosen to play for his hometown of Bolton. As one of the best players for Bolton, he was picked by scouts to play for Oldham Athletic. When his four-year contract with Oldham ended, Manchester United couldn’t wait to snatch him up.

As the only Latter-day Saint on the team, he has the opportunity of raising his standards high. “The other players respect me for my beliefs. They don’t tease me about my social life when I don’t follow them to the pubs and booze-ups. They know that I don’t drink and respect that decision.”

In order to keep his testimony strong, David actively attends church each Sunday and weekday activities. “I’ve just been set apart as a stake missionary, and I serve as a home teacher,” he says. His work as a stake missionary should have a positive effect on those in the Manchester area—many of whom follow Manchester United and may recognize David.

The Church plays an important role in my life,” David says. “Participating in seminary helped build my testimony growing up.” Arising at 6:00 A.M. daily, David studied early-morning seminary for four years. His mother, who has taught seminary for 13 years, taught his older brothers with him.

“My brothers set good examples and uplift me,” says David. The strong bond that is so obvious between the Brown brothers likely results from sharing the same room growing up. They wrestle and tease each other as brothers do, but their teamwork is apparent. They care for each other and desire to see each other succeed. One by one, his three older brothers have left to serve missions: Bryce to Oklahoma, Gary to London, England, and Paul to Leeds, England. As each brother graduated from seminary and left to serve a mission, the class became smaller. By his final year of seminary, David was the only student in his mother’s class. However, it didn’t stop him. He knew the importance of grounding his testimony firmly in the scriptures.

As his teacher and mother, Sister Brown has seen David’s testimony develop. “He’s got courage to live the gospel no matter what anyone else says,” she declares.

A favorite scripture that keeps David strong in the face of adversity is Doctrine and Covenants 82:10 [D&C 82:10]: “I, the Lord, am bound when ye do what I say; but when ye do not what I say, ye have no promise.” David says, “I know that when I apply this in my life, everything else will fall into place.”

An area in which he has put the Lord first is in Sunday matches. Though football tournaments are often scheduled on Sundays, David decided at the age of 11 that he wouldn’t play on the Sabbath. His coach and manager respected him for this decision and worked around it with him. David relates how the Lord blessed him for his obedience. “In England, matches are often postponed because of bad weather. At the end of one season, all the Sunday matches that had been deferred were played midweek instead. I was able to play in all six games—and scored thirty-two goals.” This earned him the title of top scorer for the season and a reputation as “the boy who never plays on a Sunday.”

David enjoys spending the little free time he has relaxing at home with his parents and brothers. He says, “My best friends are my brothers.” They are all close in age: Bryce is 25, Gary is 22, Paul is 21, David is 18, and Stephen is 15. With no other priesthood holders between the ages of 15 and 20 in their ward, they encourage each other to be active in the gospel.

David finds a good balance between church and football. A key to success is hard work. His mum recalls how independent David wished to be as a boy. “He has always been a worker,” she says. “Whether it was homework or seminary booklets, he would just get on with it without being nagged. David coined the phrase in our house: ‘I’ll do it on me own,’ for which we always tease him. David has the ability to work hard at whatever he does.”

For others who are striving for success in their chosen careers, David offers the following advice: “Try hard in anything you want to do, and always put the Lord first.” His determination to be a star football player has set him on a course for greatness. He wants to develop the athletic talents he’s been given. By following the examples set by his brothers, parents, and team members, David will keep his eyes focused on his goals—both spiritual and physical.

He will do what he does best, stay on the ball.

The most devastating experience I personally have lived through was Shawna's death in 2005.
Her passing was totally unexpected and a tremendous shock to myself and my kids. Overnight, I found myself a single father with five children. It was a surreal experience that changed me forever. This event took me to the "valley of the shadow of death." Even in the very depths of despair and depression, I found the Lord waiting for me in my personal Gethsemane--fully understanding, loving, compassionate, and willing to strengthen my feeble arms and knees. I had been through the worst thing I could possibly imagine--the loss of my spouse and the loss of my children's mother. But, despite the abject horror of the situation, the Holy Ghost told me everything would be okay and I believed Him. It was during this experience that I learned a very important lesson: There is nothing to fear in this life if we are doing our best to live the principles of the gospel. There is nothing to fear.

It is possible to have personal peace during the most extreme, difficult, and trying of circumstances. The scriptures refer to this phenomenon as "peace that passeth all understanding." The world is simply not capable of understanding the concept of experiencing peace during such times--this is why it passes their understanding. They just don't get it because it isn't logical. The only people who can understand it are the followers of Jesus Christ who have experienced such peace during the most trying of times.

Just as I experienced such peace in my extremities, you can too. Such knowledge allows us to "fresh courage take" even if things don't seem particularly hopeful at the moment. I know that Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost will be there for each of us in our personal hour of need. True courage comes from trusting in the Lord no matter what we are presently going through.

I am in the seventh grade and just turned 13 years old. I had never had the chicken pox until recently. I had them all over my body, in my ears and mouth, and along with it severe chest pains. All of this brought me to tears. I prayed to Heavenly Father to help make the pain go away, and it didn’t.

After reading the true story “Hold On” by Janene Baadsgaard in the May 1987 issue I prayed again, and this time I asked Heavenly Father to help me “hold on,” and he did.

Thanks, Janene, for your story that helped me, and thank you, New Era, for being there for me and all the other young women and young men.

This is Kaylee and Kyle. They’re twins. They’re getting baptized tomorrow. Grandma has come to visit.
Will you sit on the porch with me?
You seem worried. What’s the matter?
I’m nervous about getting baptized. What if I can’t breathe, or Dad drops me?
I was afraid to tell anyone because they’d laugh.
It’s OK to be nervous. I—
Are you telling stories without me?
Come sit with us! We’re talking about your baptisms tomorrow.
I had baptism jitters too. So my dad gave me a blessing.
After that, I felt calm. I knew being baptized was a good choice.
Do you think Dad would give me a blessing?
And me? I’m nervous too, but I thought everyone would laugh if I told.
You two are alike! Why don’t you ask right now?
Feeling better now?
Yes! I know everything will be OK.
Me too. But now I can’t sleep ’cause I’m too excited!

The first thing you notice about David Brown is his great big smile. Because of it, he makes friends wherever he goes. And David goes lots of places! David (10) has three older sisters and a younger sister, Kara.
Like most boys his age, he enjoys pizza and hot dogs. He likes to bake cookies with his mom. And he loves baseball. But David has some challenges in his life. He was born with spina bifida, a defect in which part of one (or more) vertebrae fails to develop, leaving a portion of the spinal cord exposed. Because of this, he is partially paralyzed from the waist down.
David sometimes uses a wheelchair. But he can also walk using crutches and braces. Unlike most children, David can remember learning to walk. His mom started working with him two hours a day when he was eighteen months old. Eleven months later, he could walk on his own. David and one of his parents make a four-hour drive to Shreveport, Louisiana, each time his braces need to be adjusted or repaired. Since David is very active, they usually have to make the trip more than once a month.
David always seems to find a way to do the things he wants to do. He enjoys swimming and playing Ping-Pong. And he likes bouncing on his trampoline. His sister Kara helps him climb the tree in their front yard, and he and his dad practice catching and hitting a baseball. This year David hopes to see a dream come true. He wants to play baseball in a real league.
David is a good helper at home. His regular chores are making his bed, picking up his toys, and making his school lunch every morning. Each evening he comes into the kitchen and asks, “How may I be of assistance to you, Mom?” He helps her by unloading the silverware from the dishwasher, putting the vegetables in the saucepan, or setting the table.
David is a poster child for a national charity for children with birth defects. He visits with lots of people and helps them to understand more about spina bifida. Sometimes he gets to meet famous athletes and have his picture taken with them.
The Browns are a traveling family. Each summer they take a big trip. They camp along the way, and they always take David’s hand-powered tricycle. David has ridden his trike in many wonderful places: the Lincoln Memorial and the Capitol in Washington, D.C.; the Grand Canyon; Niagara Falls; Disney World; and even across the Royal Gorge Bridge. But David and his family agree that the best trips they have ever taken are the two trips they made to the Hill Cumorah Pageant. Every member of the family had a costume and a part in the pageant. David’s dad even played the part of Lehi one year.
David has many friends in Primary. His favorite Primary song is “I Want to Be a Missionary Now.” He hopes to go on a mission to Germany one day because his dad went there on his mission. David’s big smiles and hugs make Sunday a special day for lots of people.
David says, “I just want to be treated like any other kid.” But his happiness and his love for others make him one of a kind.

Another dedicated pair of visiting teachers in the Democratic Republic of Congo walked great distances to visit a woman and her baby. These sisters prayerfully prepared a message and wanted to know how they could make a difference in the life of the dear woman they were visiting. The woman was thrilled with their visit. For her their visit was a message from heaven given just to her. As the visiting teachers met in her humble home, the sister, her family, and the visiting teachers were all lifted and blessed. The long walk didn’t seem a sacrifice. These visiting teachers had compassion, making a difference for good and blessing the life of this woman.

After returning home from my mission, I took over the lawn-care business my brothers and I had started as teenagers. I was also busy with my university studies. One spring week, heavy rain and looming final exams left me overwhelmed and behind on yard work.
Midweek the skies cleared, and I planned to catch up on yard work after classes. But when I arrived home, my truck and equipment were gone. Curious, I visited the scheduled yards; each one had already been beautifully trimmed. At the last yard on the schedule, I saw my younger brother walking behind the mower. He saw me, smiled, and waved. Overcome with gratitude, I hugged and thanked him. His meaningful act of service deeply strengthened my love and loyalty for him. Serving each other is an unmistakable way we show our love for God and His Beloved Son.