Gospel Story Finder

Help with temporal tasks is also a form of ministering. At the October 1856 general conference, President Brigham Young announced that handcart pioneers were stranded in deep snow 270–370 miles (435–595 km) away. He called for the Latter-day Saints in Salt Lake City to rescue them and to “attend strictly to those things which we call temporal.”4
Lucy Meserve Smith recorded that the women took off their warm underskirts and stockings right there in the tabernacle and piled them into wagons to send to the freezing pioneers. Then they gathered bedding and clothing for those who would eventually come with few belongings. When the handcart companies arrived, a building in the town was “loaded with provisions for them.”5

I wish you could meet the marvelous young man who came to us from Bolivia, arriving with no matching clothing and shoes three sizes too large for him. He was a little older because he was the sole breadwinner in his home and it had taken some time to earn money for his mission. He raised chickens and sold the eggs door-to-door. Then, just as his call finally came, his widowed mother faced an emergency appendectomy. Our young friend gave every cent of the money he had earned for his mission to pay for his mother’s surgery and postoperative care, then quietly rounded up what used clothing he could from friends and arrived at the MTC in Santiago on schedule. I can assure you that his clothes now match, his shoes now fit, and both he and his mother are safe and sound, temporally as well as spiritually.

Ninth President of the Church
David O. McKay’s witness of the truthfulness of the gospel came during his mission to Scotland. He attended a priesthood meeting where “everybody felt the rich outpouring of the spirit of the Lord.” He later recalled: “Never before had I experienced such an emotion. It was a manifestation for which as a doubting youth I had secretly prayed most earnestly on hillside and in meadow. It was an assurance to me that sincere prayer is answered ‘sometime, somewhere.’” It was during this same conference that Elder McKay’s mission president told him, “If you will keep the faith you will yet sit in the leading [councils] of the Church” (“Two Significant Statements,” Deseret News, 27 October 1934, 8).

I remember the occasion of more than fifty years ago when, as a missionary, I was speaking in an open-air meeting in Hyde Park, London. As I was presenting my message, a heckler interrupted to say, “Why don’t you stay with the doctrine of the Bible which says in John (4:24), ‘God is a Spirit’?”
I opened my Bible to the verse he had quoted and read to him the entire verse:
“God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”
I said, “Of course God is a spirit, and so are you, in the combination of spirit and body that makes of you a living being, and so am I.”
Each of us is a dual being of spiritual entity and physical entity. All know of the reality of death when the body dies, and each of us also knows that the spirit lives on as an individual entity and that at some time, under the divine plan made possible by the sacrifice of the Son of God, there will be a reunion of spirit and body. Jesus’ declaration that God is a spirit no more denies that he has a body than does the statement that I am a spirit while also having a body.
I do not equate my body with His in its refinement, in its capacity, in its beauty and radiance. His is eternal. Mine is mortal. But that only increases my reverence for Him. I worship Him “in spirit and in truth.” I look to Him as my strength. I pray to Him for wisdom beyond my own. I seek to love Him with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. His wisdom is greater than the wisdom of all men. His power is greater than the power of nature, for He is the Creator Omnipotent. His love is greater than the love of any other, for His love encompasses all of His children, and it is His work and His glory to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of His sons and daughters of all generations (see Moses 1:39).
He “so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
This is the Almighty of whom I stand in awe and reverence. It is He to whom I look in fear and trembling. It is He whom I worship and unto whom I give honor and praise and glory. He is my Heavenly Father, who has invited me to come unto Him in prayer, to speak with Him, with the promised assurance that He will hear and respond.

Two young women who are serving as missionaries with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Fiji made a surprising discovery recently.
Lolene Tuiqali and Josephine St. John were recently assigned to be companions, where they would live and work together.
Not long after they began their missionary service as companions, Sister Tuiqali made a video call to her father. While talking together he recognized his daughter’s companion as the daughter of a man he had served with when he was a missionary in Fiji in 1987.
Lolene Tuiqali and Josephine St. John have been teaching people the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and giving community service as missionary companions in Fiji since February this year.
The young volunteers are currently serving in the Nadi area, not too far away from where their fathers were companions.
“We emailed our mission president that day and said, ‘Fun fact: our dads were companions in Fiji,’” said Sister Tuiqali.
“I was really happy, but my dad was even happier when he found out I would be serving with Sister Tuiqali,” said Sister St. John. “He gave me lots of advice about serving in that area of Fiji.”
“Sister Tuiqali and Sister St. John have been a blessing to the Fiji Suva Mission,” said Brad Markus, president of the Fiji Suva Mission.
“The fact that they are companions is a testament that Heavenly Father is mindful in every detail of our lives. It’s gratifying to know our Father in Heaven provided an opportunity for the fathers to be companions and then 34 years later blessed them again by allowing their daughters to serve as missionary companions.”
The two sister missionaries have been able to meet many of the same people that their fathers served on their mission, and many people have shared stories with them about their fathers.
“I wanted to experience the same things that my dad always told me about his mission,” said Sister St. John. “When I found out I was going to be serving in Fiji, it really boosted my eagerness in serving.”
They also explained that before they were companions, their fathers kept in touch a little bit, but since they’ve been companions, the fathers talk every week.
“It’s been fun seeing the miracles,” said Sister Tuiqali. “They are not the exact same miracles that our fathers experienced, but miracles of our own. It has been very good for both of us, especially as companions.”
Due to COVID-19 restrictions in Fiji, missionaries have needed to be creative in finding ways to reach those around them. Many have been able to find and teach people online. Sister St. John explained that her understanding of technology has increased as she has learned to use it during her mission.
Sister Tuiqali has been serving as a missionary for over six months, and her most recent assignment has been training Sister St. John, who began her service in February.

A few weeks ago, Kathy and I visited the home of Matt and Sarah Johnson. On the wall was a picture of their precious family, a beautiful image of the Savior, and an illustration of the temple.
Their four daughters, Maddy, Ruby, Claire, and June, spoke happily about how much they loved their mother.
For over a year Sarah had regularly scheduled Saturday appointments for the family to attend the temple together so that the girls could participate in baptisms for family members who lived previously.
In November of last year, Sarah scheduled a family temple appointment for the last week in December on Thursday instead of Saturday. “I hope you’re OK with that,” she said to Matt.
Sarah had been diagnosed with cancer, but the doctors anticipated she would live two or three more years. During a sacrament meeting, Sarah had shared her powerful testimony, saying that whatever the outcome for her, she loved the Savior with all her heart and that “the victory had already been won” by Him. As December progressed, unexpectedly Sarah’s health rapidly declined, and she was admitted to the hospital. In the early morning of Thursday, December 29, she quietly completed her mortality. Matt had been by Sarah’s side all through the night.
With his heart breaking, and completely exhausted physically and emotionally, he arrived home, sorrowing with his daughters. As Matt glanced at his phone, he noticed the reminder of the unusual Thursday temple appointment Sarah had scheduled for later that day. Matt said, “When I first saw it, I thought, This just isn’t going to work.”
But then Matt’s mind caught hold upon this thought: “The Savior lives. There is no place we would rather be as a family than in His holy house.”
Matt, Maddy, Ruby, Claire, and June arrived at the temple for the appointment Sarah had scheduled for them. With tears streaming down his cheeks, Matt performed the baptisms with his daughters. They deeply felt their love and eternal bond with Sarah, and they felt the immense love and comforting peace of the Savior. Matt tenderly shared, “While I feel deep sorrow and grief, I am shouting for joy, knowing my Father’s wonderful plan of salvation.”

Rain poured as a cold wind blew. I saw trees that had been uprooted and lost all their leaves. The power was off in some areas due to damaged electrical lines. The scene before me was now like a haunted place. Everything had been blown away. People were starving for food and longing for shelter.
My heart was filled with the desire to serve. My family and other members of the Church had traveled to a poor community where a typhoon had devastated thousands of homes and taken thousands of lives. We were there to give relief goods to the victims.
When we first arrived, I had seen the mourning in people’s faces. I realized then how blessed we were that our homes hadn’t been destroyed.
It was still raining when we started handing out relief packs at a muddy, roofless gym, but that didn’t matter to us. The relief packs—sets of plastic trays, kettles, plates, spoons, forks, glasses, and flasks—we nicknamed “home-return kits.” As my family and I handed relief packs to the people, they gave us warm smiles and thank-yous.
The priceless gratitude of the people uplifted me, and I felt the influence of the Spirit. Their smiles manifested that there is hope and that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ will never leave us and will always bring light to our dark days.

The family eventually moved to Melbourne, where they connected with other members of the Church. It was a haven for them to be around like-minded people. Elizabeth was especially touched by the warm welcome they received from the sisters, who opened their homes for Sunday meetings and generously provided meals.

Although they were not organised as part of the official Relief Society organisation yet, the sisters worked together to cook, sew, and coordinate fundraising efforts for a new chapel. Elizabeth felt a companionship with these women that she had never known before.

Meanwhile, World War I broke out. To help connect women with each other during that challenging time, the Church published its Relief Society Magazine, which became an important resource for the sisters in Melbourne. They discussed its articles, poetry and stories as they gathered to knit socks and prepare parcels for soldiers in Europe and the Middle East.

Elizabeth’s two grandsons had enlisted to serve in the war. Her son Horace also enlisted and was sent to the Middle East as part of Australia’s Light Horse regiments.

Church attendance dwindled as more brethren were called to military duty. Soon, it was up to the women—Elizabeth and her friends—to keep their small branch together. The sisters looked forward to their weekly meetings for spiritual renewal and social and personal upliftment.

By the end of the war, almost every family in their area had lost a brother, a husband, a son or grandson. For Elizabeth, it was her grandson William Wallace Cameron Butler who died in the Battle of Fromelles. The bond amongst the sisters in the branch grew even stronger as they supported each other through the heartbreak. Then they began rebuilding their lives.

President Arnold Miller was called to lead the Victorian Conference—what we would now call a district. One of his first objectives was to support the official organisation of Australia’s Relief Society, under priesthood direction.

The first Relief Society meeting in Australia was held in Victoria on 15 July 1921. By 1923, Elizabeth was amongst the 22 sisters enrolled in the Melbourne Branch Relief Society. These were happy times where sisters could strengthen and feel strengthened.

In later life, Elizabeth hesitated to talk to her children about her childhood—her story was too sad to tell, she would say. Yet, the seed of faith that she allowed to be planted in her heart had grown beyond measure. In her wake, descendants for whom Elizabeth set the example, have been stalwarts in wards and stakes, faithfully building the Church wherever they live.

Through the lens of this humble lady’s life, we can look back at the beginnings of the Relief Society organisation in Australia and see through her legacy its true purpose: to prepare women for the blessings of eternal life, to strengthen individuals and families and to unite to help those in need.

I admonish all families: search out your heritage. It is important to know, as far as possible, those who came before us. We discover something about ourselves when we learn about our ancestors.
I recall as a boy hearing of the experiences of my Miller ancestors. In the spring of 1848, my great-great-grandparents Charles Stewart Miller and Mary McGowan Miller, joined the Church in their native Scotland; left their home in Rutherglen, Scotland; and journeyed across the Atlantic Ocean. They reached the port of New Orleans and traveled up the Mississippi River to St. Louis, Missouri, with a group of Saints, arriving there in 1849. One of their 11 children, Margaret, would become my great-grandmother.
When the family arrived in St. Louis, planning to earn enough money to make their way to the Salt Lake Valley, a plague of cholera struck the area. The Miller family was hard-hit: in the space of two weeks, mother, father, and two of their sons died. My great-grandmother Margaret Miller was 13 years old at the time.
Because of all the deaths in the area, there were no caskets available—at any price. The older surviving boys dismantled the family’s oxen pens in order to make crude caskets for the family members who had passed away.
The nine remaining orphaned Miller children and the husband of one of the older daughters left St. Louis in the spring of 1850 with four oxen and one wagon, arriving finally in the Salt Lake Valley that same year.
I owe such a debt of gratitude to these and other noble forebears who loved the gospel and who loved the Lord so deeply that they were willing to sacrifice all they had, including their own lives, for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. How grateful I am for the temple ordinances which bind us together for all eternity.

William Borrowman never forgave his son for joining the Church. He made sure that the family members never referred to John as brother or uncle. However, John’s stepmother, Helen, corresponded with John through the years. In 1857 she wrote to tell him that his father had died and that he had directed that John be given—as his total inheritance—one halfpenny (the equivalent of a nickel in American coin).

Have you ever heard the old saying that people who get lost tend to walk in circles?
Jan L. Souman, a German psychologist, wanted to determine scientifically if this was true. He took participants of an experiment to a large forest area and to the Sahara desert and used a global positioning system to track where they went. They had no compass or any other device. Instructions to them were simple: walk in a straight line in the direction indicated.
Dr. Souman later described what happened. “[Some] of them walked on a cloudy day, with the sun hidden behind the clouds [and with no reference points in view]. … [They] all walked in circles, with [several] of them repeatedly crossing their own path without noticing it.” Other participants walked while the sun was shining, with faraway reference points in view. “These … followed an almost perfectly straight course.”1
This study has been repeated by others with different methodologies.2 All returned similar results.

Let me give you a parable. A man built a beautiful home and furnished it with the very best of carpets, furniture, appliances, all that money could buy. Within its walls he kept his fine automobiles and his expensive jewelry.

Then, fearful of intruders who might enter and rob him, he had installed expensive dead-bolt locks so that he had to use a key to get out as well as to get in. He put bars on the windows and doors and was like a prisoner looking out of his own home, as one might do out of a jail. He installed costly electronic surveillance devices to turn on lights and set off sirens should any unwelcome intruder enter. He landscaped largely without trees or shrubbery so there would be no place for a thief to hide. And he smugly said to himself, “Now I am secure.”

But what he did not realize is that neither bars nor dead bolts, neither lights nor sirens nor anything of the kind would have the slightest effect on intruders of another variety who could destroy his life and the lives of his family. He found himself to be his own prisoner, locked in a cell of despair and misery. He allowed the Goliaths of his life to overpower him.

Eta’s mom owns a dessert bakery on their island. Eta and her older sister, Talai, love to share with their teachers and leaders and with people who might be having a hard time. Sometimes they go for a drive with their mom and give cookies and other treats to people they see on the street. It makes people so happy, and it makes Eta and Talai happy to share. They get more joy from sharing food from the bakery than from eating it themselves! They are both learning to bake as one of their Children and Youth goals this year, so they always have treats to share.
Eta says, “I love sharing with others because it makes them glad, and it makes me glad. I know that’s what Heavenly Father wants us to do.“
Eta followed Jesus by sharing with others. Turn the page to read a story about how Jesus helped others.

Eric couldn’t stop grinning as he walked off the soccer field, the field where his team had just won the league championship. Eric was hot and tired but he knew he had played his best.
As he picked up his bike, he thought of his dad’s familiar words: “Not much of what is important in life comes easily,” his father said. “Our effort puts a shine in things—such a shine sometimes that they glow for years and years in our hearts.”
“This game will definitely glow for years!” Eric thought.
“Hey, Eric!” a voice called from behind him. He turned around and grinned at his teammate, Clay. “Where are you going?” Clay asked. “The victory party is at the coach’s house.”
“I can’t go,” Eric said. “I promised Davy I’d come over right after the game. I was going to spend the rest of the day and evening with him.”
Clay looked upset. “How much fun can you have with someone who’s sick all the time, and can’t even leave the house? We just won the championship, Eric. Isn’t that worth something?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Coach said a reporter is coming to the party. He’s going to take our pictures and interview us. We’re going to be in the newspaper!”
Eric’s eyes widened. “Really?” Clay’s excitement was contagious. “I guess I could just see Davy later tonight,” he said.
“You can’t,” Clay said. “Don’t forget the coach said if we won the game he would take us on an overnight campout to Big Bear Falls. Well, the campout is tonight. You don’t want to miss out on that, do you?”
“No way!” Eric said.
“Davy’s just a sick kid with nowhere to go and nothing to do, except ruin somebody else’s fun,” Clay said, spinning a soccer ball on his finger. “Come on, Eric. It’s time to celebrate!”
Eric eyed the spinning soccer ball. The more he looked at it the more his mind began to spin, and he got caught up in the moment. “OK, let’s go!” he said. He jumped on his bike and headed across the field toward the rest of his team.
During the reporter’s interview, Eric looked at the clock in the coach’s living room. It was three o’clock. He had promised Davy he would be to his house by one. He knew Davy would be disappointed. He always looked forward to Eric’s visits with excitement. But because of school, homework, soccer practice, and family and church activities, it was hard for Eric to spend a lot of time with Davy. But today Eric was going to spend the whole afternoon and evening, and Davy had been marking off the days on the calendar for weeks.
The reporter asked each boy how it felt to be part of a winning team. When Eric’s turn came, he didn’t answer. He was thinking of the time he and his father were hiking in the Big Bear Mountains. They had come to a three-way fork in the trail and had to decide which path to follow. “Like most things in life, Eric,” his dad said, “it comes down to choices. It’s getting late, so …”
Eric studied the three paths. One was overgrown and hard to see in the evening shadows. It looked jungly and mysterious. The second was straight, narrow, and clearly defined, but uninteresting. The third trail was wide and curving with room to wander.
“What will it be?” Eric’s dad asked.
“The wide one, I guess,” he said. “There are lots of turns so it will be more exciting, not knowing what’s ahead.”
They started down the path, but 20 minutes later it ended at the edge of a cliff. Below them in the distance they could make out the small lake where their family had set up camp. Shadows crept across the woodlands below and the sun had sunk behind the mountains.
“Now which path, Eric?” his dad asked.
“How about the jungly one?” Eric suggested. “It looked cool.”
They made their way back to the original path, then started down the dark, overgrown trail.
After a few minutes, though, the path was lost in the tangles of underbrush. “What do you think we should do now?” Eric’s dad asked. “It’s getting dark and we’re no closer to camp than we were two hours ago.”
Eric pulled a thorn from his shirt and rubbed a scratch on his arm. “I guess we better get back to the path we were on in the first place.”
His dad nodded, and the two started back. They finally set their feet back on the original path and faced the trails at the triple fork. It was dark now, but the stars lit up the final path. “What do you say we take that third trail, Eric?”
Eric glanced around uneasily at the darkening woods and took hold of his father’s hand. “Yes,” he said. “I can see the path clearly because it’s straight, and it’s narrow so we won’t wander off it.”
As they made their way through the night, Eric’s dad spoke up. “The Savior said that we should always take the straight and narrow path for the very reasons you pointed out. We can clearly see our way and won’t stray from the path unless we choose to. This path is like the iron rod in Lehi’s dream, isn’t it? Straight and true. And look,” he said, pointing toward the stars. “They light the path, like the prophets we have to guide us back to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.”
They paused on a small knoll above the lake, and looking down they could see a glowing light in the darkness where Eric’s mother had started dinner over the campfire. “Kind of looks like the tree of life in Lehi’s dream, don’t you think?” his dad asked. “A welcome sight to any weary, faithful traveler on the road of life. And just like the food your mom is preparing, the Lord has filled His living tree of life with sustenance to nourish our spirits and lift us up in our darkest hours.”
Eric squeezed his father’s hand, and his eyes filled with warm tears.
“What are you crying for, Eric?” Clay laughed. Eric looked around and suddenly realized he was still in the coach’s living room surrounded by his teammates.
The reporter quickly wrote on his notepad and said, “It’s his way of saying what it feels like to be part of a winning team.”
“What it is,” Eric said, “is my knowing that I want to be a part of another winning team, as well.”
The boys looked confused. “Another winning team?” one of them blurted. “What team is that?”
Eric whispered something to the coach, waved good-bye, and left the room.
“What did he say, Coach?” Clay asked.
Their coach smiled. “He told me the name of the other team he wanted to be a part of—the Lord’s team. And he said to be a part of it, he needed to be somewhere else. Any of you boys know where that is?”
“Davy’s place, I think,” Clay said slowly.
The coach’s smile deepened.
Two weeks later, Davy passed away quietly in his sleep.
A few weeks after that, Eric and his father were hiking in the Big Bear Mountains. When they reached that familiar triple fork in the trail, Eric paused and studied the straight, narrow path. He took his dad’s hand and they stood quietly for a few moments.
“Which path do you want to take, Eric?” his dad asked.
“The straight and narrow one, Dad,” he said.
“You’re sure?” his father asked, smiling.
“It’s one thing I am sure about,” Eric smiled back. “It is the right way.”
“If we stay within the lines that God has marked, he will protect us, and we can arrive safely at our destination.”Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, “The Straight and Narrow Way,” Ensign, Nov. 1990, 64.

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

“Each one of us had a job, a goal, and an objective. We knew we had to make Sauniatu stand up and be independent,” said Ed Kamauoha as he began relating the incredible story of a service project that has continued for years and dramatically influenced hundreds of lives.
In December 1967 Brother Ed Kamauoha was appointed to be the new headmaster at Sauniatu. For years Sauniatu had been functioning as a school, but when he arrived, the future of Sauniatu was once again in question.
“There were real administrative questions about the efficiency and quality of the school,” he explained. Everyone in Samoa is required to take a standard government education test when they leave high school, and the Sauniatu scores were an average five points below the scores of students from the other Church schools in Samoa. In addition to the low test scores, it was costly to operate the remote school. Many of the students were from very poor families and could not afford to pay more tuition. Enthusiasm among students and teachers was low.
“I felt bad about the school,” he said. “As an administrator I understood the problems, but I also understood what the tradition of Sauniatu means to the Saints in Samoa. I knew the place was not what it could be because it was not living up to President McKay’s 1921 blessing.”
Ed Kamauoha believed Sauniatu had a prophetic future yet to be fulfilled if each person living there cared. His mind remained restless and his wiry body became charged with nervous energy as he began planning to meet the many requirements needed to make the students of Sauniatu self-sufficient and proud and to help the community of Sauniatu reap the promised blessings.
The projects he outlined for the betterment of Sauniatu were big projects. In many people’s minds they were too big for a handful of teachers and a few dozen school children to handle. Yet Brother Kamauoha felt they could do it.
“Getting everyone to work on big projects is like starting a large machine. You just can’t let it idle; you have to really rev it up and keep it going,” said Brother Kamauoha.
He also felt that the students’ performance in school would improve and the morale among the teachers would also improve if they knew they had some control over their own future. “We had been waiting for others to help us at Sauniatu,” explained Brother Kamauoha. “I tried to teach the people that they had depended too much on outside help and assistance from others. I told them the Lord gives us brains and a pair of hands but they won’t help us unless we use them. And so we started building roads, and we did it by hand.”

Let me share with you a modern-day miracle which occurred several years ago at Murray High School near Salt Lake City, where every person was a winner and not a loser was to be found.
A newspaper article highlighted the event. The article was entitled “Tears, Cheers and True Spirit: Students Elect 2 Disabled Girls to Murray Royalty.” The article began: “Ted and Ruth Eyre did what any parents would do.
“When their daughter, Shellie, became a finalist for Murray High School homecoming queen, they counseled her to be a good sport in case she didn’t win. They explained only one girl among the 10 candidates would be selected queen. …
“As student body officers crowned the school’s homecoming [royalty] in the school gym Thursday night, Shellie Eyre experienced, instead, inclusion. The 17-year-old senior, born with Down syndrome, was selected by fellow students as homecoming queen. … As Ted Eyre escorted his daughter onto the gym floor as the candidates were introduced, the gym erupted into deafening cheers and applause. They were greeted with a standing ovation.”
Similar standing ovations were extended to Shellie’s attendants, one of whom, April Perschon, has physical and mental disabilities resulting from a brain hemorrhage suffered when she was just 10 years old.
When the ovations had ceased, the school’s vice principal said, “‘Tonight … the students voted on inner beauty.’ … Obviously moved, parents, school administrators and students wept openly.”
Said one student, “I’m so happy, I cried when they came out. I think Murray High is so awesome to do this.”
I extend a heartfelt “thank you” to one and all who made this night one ever to be remembered. The Scottish poet James Barrie’s words seem appropriate: “God gave us memories, that we might have June roses in the December of our lives.”

It takes faith to stand alone, as Natalia did; it also takes faith to change your life, to leave behind friends who are a bad influence. That is what Viktor Russo found out when he learned about the gospel of Jesus Christ and had to make a few changes in his life.
Life had been rough for Viktor. As a boy, he was scrawny. Other boys beat him up. Out of resentment, he made a mistake. He joined a gang at age 15. “I wanted the others to be afraid of me,” he says.
And that’s what started to happen. He became one of the “bandits,” as he calls them. But before he got in too far, he discovered the Church. His aunt, a Latter-day Saint, invited Viktor and his mother to attend Sunday meetings.
“Right from the opening prayer there were tears in my eyes,” Viktor explains. “They didn’t just recite words. They spoke with their Father in Heaven. I felt a great love overpowering me, an understanding that I also have a Father in Heaven who loves me.” Viktor was so impressed he continued to attend. And he began meeting with the missionaries.
“I had always wanted to know if there really is a God,” he says. “So I prayed, ‘Please tell me if what I am learning is true.’ The same powerful feeling I had during sacrament meeting surrounded me again.”
He was particularly impressed as he learned about the priesthood. “I felt this love among the men, something I had never felt in the gang. During one of the missionary discussions, I remember thinking, ‘I can’t be in a gang and serve God, too.’ From then on, I tried not to meet with my old associates. I tried to be only with good people.”
And what happened was remarkable. “I was amazed,” Viktor recalls. “Some of my former ‘friends’ teased and taunted me, but most of them just said, ‘All right then, go. We’ll leave you alone.’” Enemies didn’t retaliate. True friends took an interest in his new religion. Some of them even met with the missionaries, but Viktor is the only one so far to be baptized.
“I had a lot to repent of first,” he acknowledges. “But I knew it was the right thing to do.”
Today Viktor is 18. He has been a Latter-day Saint for almost three years. He spends his time with other Aaronic Priesthood holders, helps with the sacrament, and goes home teaching. He looks forward to serving a full-time mission and to the completion of the Kyiv temple. Day after day you’ll find him with the elders when they’re teaching. “I like to share my testimony of Jesus Christ,” he says. “I like to tell people they need to believe in Him.”

Even when we think we are doing no harm by our critical remarks, consequences often follow. I am reminded of a boy who handed a donation envelope to his bishop and told him it was for him. The bishop, using this as a teaching moment, explained to the boy that he should mark on the donation slip whether it was for tithing, fast offerings, or for something else. The boy insisted the money was for the bishop himself. When the bishop asked why, the boy replied, “Because my father says you’re one of the poorest bishops we’ve ever had.”

When Andrew Christofferson learned that Fia was living in Salt Lake City with the Grants, he wasted no time in calling to court her. Several months later, he asked Elder Grant for permission to marry Fia. Sophia and Andrew were married in the Salt Lake Temple on 14 June 1907 with Elder Grant performing the ceremony.
Andrew took his bride to Lehi to live in a very modest cottage. Circumstances were quite different from those to which she had been accustomed. The adjustments she had to make must have been difficult indeed. But Fia had never regretted giving up a life of ease for the sake of the gospel, nor did she regret giving up life in the comparative luxury of the Grant home for life on a small farm. She was cheerful and pleasant and made the best of her surroundings. She learned many new skills as a farmer’s wife and helped care for her mother-in-law as well.
In time their home was blessed with two sons and two daughters: Grant, Reed, Mia, and Ellen. The first boy was named after Heber J. Grant.
Because the light was very painful to her eyes, Fia seldom went out in public, but people were attracted to her home. She was known far and wide for her warm hospitality. All who came into her home felt her love. They were entertained and fed and, if downcast, were cheered and encouraged.