Gospel Story Finder

Charles worked in a brickyard and as a watchmaker. He also had the opportunity to help build the temple. A musician all his life, Charles played the flute and the dulcimer, a stringed instrument something like a harp, in the Nauvoo Band.
Sarah and Charles were happy in Nauvoo and grateful that they had joined with the Saints. However, the Saints began to be persecuted by mobs. Charles and Sarah’s first son, John, was born in June, 1844, just a few weeks before the Prophet was martyred. John died in January of 1846 while the first group of Saints was preparing to leave Nauvoo for the West. A second son, Charles Edward, was born in August of that year, when the mobs were gathering to drive the rest of the Saints from Nauvoo.
Charles helped Mary Fielding Smith, Hyrum Smith’s widow, move her belongings across the river. He and Sarah and little Charles Edward spent the winter at Winter Quarters, then, in March, fit out for the trip West. In fitting out, Charles bought a yoke of oxen, a wagon, a cow, food, and other supplies. They left Iowa City in March, joining Isaac Higbee’s company, and entered the Salt Lake Valley in September, 1848.
The Smith family needed a home to live in, so Charles began making adobe bricks so that he could build a house. Charles also worked at his trade and was the first watchmaker in Salt Lake City.
Not long after the Smiths were settled in their new home, Charles Edward, who was two years old, fell into a pot of boiling water and was scalded to death. Of the nine children born to Sarah and Charles, only five lived to adulthood.
A second mission call came to Charles, and he returned to his homeland in 1852, leaving Sarah with a small daughter. He was thrilled to see his mother and family again. Still, none of them were interested in the Church.
Charles received another mission call in 1862. This time he was to take his family and help settle St. George, where he planted cotton, corn, peaches, and sorghum. St. George was a difficult place in which to live because it was very hot and dry. The pioneers tried many times to dam the Virgin River so that they could irrigate their farms, but each time a spring flood washed out the dam. At times Charles had to go back to Salt Lake City to work as a watchmaker for a while to earn enough money to feed his family. Finally, after ten years of his family’s living in a one-room house, he was able to build a larger home in St. George.
Throughout the trials that he and his family endured—the deaths of their children, persecutions of mobs, separation from his family during his three-year mission, and difficult living conditions—Charles remained faithful and enthusiastic about the gospel. A devoted student of the scriptures, he was second counselor to Bishop Henry Eyring in the St. George Second Ward. Later Charles served on the stake high council there for twenty-seven years, and he spent many years doing temple work. For the last five years of his life he was the patriarch of the St. George Stake.
His granddaughter Ethel Smith Matheson remembered him as a very gentle, soft-spoken man who always carried a pocketful of peppermints. His grandchildren always ran to him for a handout and a kiss. She recalled that for many years he climbed the steep stairs of the town clock in St. George to take care of the clockwork.
Charles Smith, like many other early converts to the Church, helped build the kingdom quietly and steadily. Because he listened to the missionaries and was willing to leave home and family, hundreds of his posterity have enjoyed the blessings of the gospel.

Years ago my spry 96-year-old neighbor, Alice, who also raised sheep, became ill during lambing season, so I offered to do her night lambing. When I entered her lambing shed my first night “on duty,” Alice’s nearly 100 ewes were peacefully bedded down for the night. Yet when I appeared, they immediately sensed a stranger in their midst. Terrified, they instantly sought safety by huddling together in a far corner (see v. 5).
This continued for several nights. No matter how quietly I entered, the sheep panicked and fled. I spoke soothingly to the newborn lambs and ewes as I tended them. By the fifth night they no longer stirred as I worked among them. They had come to recognize my voice and trust me.
Sometime later I told Alice I would feed her dozen or so bum lambs their bottles. (A bum lamb is one whose mother has died or cannot produce enough milk.) Imitating Alice, I called to her lambs, “Come, BaBa! Come, BaBa!” I expected the lambs to hungrily stampede me as they did her. But not a single lamb even glanced up. Alice then stepped out her kitchen door and called. Hearing her voice, they eagerly rushed toward her, clamoring for their milk.
Intrigued, Alice and I conducted an experiment. Standing in my corral, Alice mimicked my call: “Here, lamby, lamby! Here, lamby, lamby!” and received no response whatsoever. But when I called with the exact same words, my sheep quickly surrounded me. Even though the words we used to summon the sheep were identical, our unfamiliar voices went unheeded. The sheep loyally heard only their true shepherd (see v. 4).
John 10 distinguishes a shepherd from a sheepherder. A shepherd, whose sheep are his own, has loving concern for their safety. In contrast, a sheepherder is merely the “hireling” and “careth not” (v. 13). The parable also teaches that while the hireling flees and deserts his sheep (see v. 12), the shepherd willingly lays down his life for his sheep (see v. 11). This is certainly true of our Good Shepherd—our Savior, Jesus Christ—who lovingly gave His life for us (see vv. 15, 17–18).
To me these experiences confirmed one of the critical messages of the parable: striving to personally know our Good Shepherd and to readily recognize His voice will prevent our mistakenly following the hireling. By faithfully heeding the voice of our Good Shepherd—and none other—we will be guided to eternal safety.

When President Gordon B. Hinckley spoke to the Saints of Ghana in 1998, Adjoa Darkoa Asare-Addo, 11, was present. She stood and sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet” with undisguised joy. “The Holy Spirit was with me, and I knew that President Hinckley was a prophet of God,” she recalls.
When President Hinckley announced that a temple would be built in Accra, Adjoa was thrilled. “Temples are so important!” she explains. “That is where families are sealed forever.” She intends to be married in that temple someday.

Let us jump over to Australia, just to relate another story about the spirit of the gospel in this great continent of the southern hemisphere. Sister Simpson and I were traveling from north to south in Australia and our next stop was Mount Isa. If you have not been to Mount Isa, you have not lived. Mount Isa is tucked away—and I really mean tucked away—and as this airplane came in for its landing to pick up some passengers the pilot said, “We’ll have about a twenty-minute stop here.” And so, wanting to stretch our legs, we stepped off the airplane. We do not know how the word got there, but here were all the Primary children and a band of forty or fifty members of the Church, and they rallied around us. We were just overwhelmed, and they embraced us and tears were in their eyes.

They said, “Let’s have a meeting,” so we had a ten-minute meeting, and the children sang “I Am a Child of God,” and we bore a few testimonies right there at the airport, right there in front on the grass. People were watching and listening and we were glad that they were. Then, as we finished our little meeting and went back to our airplane, we had that feeling—where else in all the world can you have that feeling?—of heart meeting heart. We had never seen these people before in all our lives, but automatically and instantly we had everything in common. We were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and everything that is worth anything was in common and we were one.

Not long ago I had the great privilege of visiting with my daughter as she moved into a new home, the home that had been built just for them. They were putting things away and as they started to use the new equipment, they found things didn’t work just the way they were supposed to. The first time they tried to use the oven it nearly fell out of the wall. They said, “Where is that manufacturer’s guide?” From that, my son-in-law found how to secure the oven to the wall and how to connect the power and make it useful.

A little while later the dishwasher flooded. They said, “Where is that manufacturer’s guide?” We found it and learned that the packing hadn’t been taken out of the dishwasher before it was run. Over and over we found ourselves needing these guidebooks.

I had the special assignment of putting things away in the laundry and sewing room because that is my personal domain. Every time I visit, it is my privilege to reign supreme over that room and the mending. I intended to be a cookie grandma, but that is not the way it turned out. My daughter says, “Mother, I’ll fix the food; you just thread the needle.” As I was putting things away, I said to her, “Where do you want me to put this little book of instructions for your sewing machine?”

She said, “Very close! Every time something disturbs the tension we have to read it and see how to adjust it again.” She was expounding wisdom that even she didn’t realize.

You who have spent Christmas Eve putting tab A into slot B and trying to connect angle C to D, know how important a manufacturer’s guide can be. Wouldn’t you think that if it is so critical for such things as dishwashers, ovens, vacuum cleaners, sewing machines, and toys, that it would be even more important for the greatest creation of all?

Years ago, when our four-month-old son had an operation, I felt forsaken and alone in a hospital waiting room. Another mother there was particularly comforting to me. She took me down the hall to meet her twelve-year-old daughter, who was suffering from leukemia. I found her to be like her mother, peacefully and cheerfully accepting this fatal illness. The girl was busy knitting dishcloths for her nurses. Her brightness helped me put my own concerns temporarily aside.
A few days later, our little one, now at home, was much better. I received a note from this mother. The affliction had taken my new young friend back to her Heavenly Father, but before she died, she asked her mother to send me a hand-knit dishcloth.
What a beautiful example they were to me of “good cheer” even in such a difficult circumstance. They had learned to accept those things they could not change and remembered the Savior’s words, “Be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you” (D&C 68:6).
I, too, remembered the Savior’s words, “They who have endured the crosses of the world, … shall inherit the kingdom of God, … and their joy shall be full forever” (2 Ne. 9:18).

Some Relief Society sisters recently prayed together as they prepared to visit for the first time a young widow whose husband died suddenly. They wanted to know what to do and how to work together to help prepare the home for family and friends who would come at the time of the funeral. They needed to know what words of comfort they could speak for the Lord. An answer to their prayer came. When they arrived at the house, each sister moved to complete a task. The house was ready so quickly that some sisters regretted not being able to do more. Words of comfort were spoken which fit perfectly together. They had given the Lord’s service as one, hearts knit together.

I was taught how a quorum works in these three aspects many years ago when I attended a high priests group meeting in a small community in southern Wyoming. The lesson that week was on justification and sanctification. It was evident, as the lesson began, that the teacher was well prepared to instruct his brethren. Then a question prompted a response that changed the whole course of the lesson. In response to the question, one brother commented: “I have listened with great interest to the lesson material. The thought has crossed my mind that the information presented will soon be lost if we do not find application to put the material presented into practice in our daily lives.” Then he went on to propose a course of action.

The night before, a citizen of the community had passed away. His wife was a member of the Church, but he had not been. This high priest had visited the widow and offered his sympathy. Leaving the home after the visit, his eyes wandered over the beautiful farm of the deceased brother. He had put so much of his life and labor into building it up. The alfalfa was ready to cut; the grain would soon be ready to harvest. How would this poor sister cope with the sudden problems now falling on her? She would need time to get herself organized for her new responsibilities.

Then he proposed to the group that they apply the principles they had just been taught—by working with the widow to keep her farm operating until the widow and her family could find a more permanent solution. The balance of the meeting was spent in organizing the project to assist her.

As we left the classroom, there was a good feeling among the brethren. I heard one of them remark as he passed through the doorway, “This project is just what we needed as a group to work together again.” A lesson had been taught; a brotherhood had been strengthened; a service project had been organized to assist someone in need.

Tonight my thoughts are about a boy somewhere in the world. He is wondering if he can do what being a priesthood holder will require of him. I had that worry when I was about 13 or 14.
I had grown up in the mission field where there was only a tiny branch, which met in my home. Then my family moved to where there were stakes and large wards and chapels and quorums of boys who all seemed to know so much more than I did about what priesthood holders do. They had in that ward a complicated pattern for passing the sacrament. I felt almost certain that I would make a mistake when my turn to pass or prepare the sacrament came.
In my fear and desperation, I remember going outside the chapel to be alone. I was worried. I prayed for help and for some assurance that I would not fail in serving God in His priesthood.
It is now many years later. I have held the Melchizedek Priesthood for more than 50 years. But in the last few days I have prayed with that same pleading for help and assurance that I will not fail in the call which has come to me to serve in the First Presidency. Others seem so much more able to serve and so much better prepared. But as I prayed this time I think I could feel an answer that was probably sent to me outside the Yalecrest Ward chapel long ago. It is the same answer you can expect to get when you face a call to serve in the priesthood which seems beyond you.
The message may come in words to your mind or in a feeling or both. But it will include at least three things to give you assurance and guidance in what you must do in this seemingly overwhelming calling.
First, the assurance will come from a memory of times Heavenly Father has helped you through dangers and difficulties. That’s happened to me in the last few days.
When I was young and still living in New Jersey, a large crowd of angry people gathered in front of our house. My mother went out to meet them, standing alone in this crowd of people who looked very dangerous to me. I couldn’t hear what she said, but after a few minutes they went away peacefully. I still remember that I had seen a miracle.
From when I was older, I have a more recent memory of a crowd of angry people I was called by the First Presidency to face who suddenly and inexplicably were touched by a spirit of calm and reconciliation.
Another time, I was sent to speak to leaders of churches in the United States and ministers of those churches who had met in Minneapolis to deal with the problem of competition among churches.
When I arrived, I found that I was assigned to be a speaker. My subject was to be: Why there was a need for a restoration of the true Church through Joseph Smith. I was a last-minute substitute for Elder Neal A. Maxwell.
When I arrived in the city the night before the meetings and looked at the program, I called President Hinckley. I told him that the meetings were to last three days, that many talks were to be given at the same time, that the crowd could choose which one to attend. I told him that I thought if I told the truth, I feared that no one would come to my second session and that I might be coming home very quickly. I asked him what he thought I should do. He said, “Use your best judgment.”
I prayed through the night. Somewhere near dawn, I was sure I was to say about the Restoration not, “This is what we believe happened to Joseph Smith and why we believe it happened,” but, “This is what happened to Joseph Smith, and this is why the Lord did it.” In the nighttime I was given no assurance of the outcome, just a clear direction—go forward.
To my amazement, after my talk the ministers lined up to speak to me. Every one of them, one after another coming to me, told essentially the same story. Each of them had met a member of the Church somewhere in their lives that they admired. Many of them said that they lived in a community where the stake president had come to the aid of not just his members but of the community in a disaster. They asked if I could take back their greeting and their thanks to people I not only didn’t know but had no hope of ever meeting.
By the end of the three days of meetings, larger and larger crowds were coming to hear the message of the Restoration of the gospel and the true Church of Jesus Christ not because they believed the message but because they had seen goodness in people’s lives—the fruits of that restoration.
As I prayed in these last few nights, those and other memories flooded back with an assurance something like this: “Haven’t I always looked after you? Think of the times I have led you beside the still waters. Remember the times I have set a table before you in the presence of your enemies. Remember, and fear no evil.” (See Psalm 23.)
So to the new deacons: remember. He has always taken care of you from your childhood. To the new quorum presidents: remember. To you fathers with children that are a challenge to you: remember, and have no fear. What is impossible for you is possible with God’s help in His service. And even when you were very small and in the years since, He has with His power and His Spirit gone before your face and been on your left hand and on your right hand when you went in His service (see D&C 84:88). You can receive assurance that God will watch over you if you pray for it in faith. I know that.
The second part of the message you will receive as you pray for help in facing a hard assignment came to me very early Friday morning. I had prayed, as you will, about overwhelming inadequacies. The answer was very clear and very direct and really a rebuke as I prayed. “Forget yourself—start praying about the people you are to serve.” That does wonders, I can testify, to bring the Holy Ghost.
But be prepared to lose track of time as you pray. You will feel love for the people you are to serve. You will feel their needs, their hopes, their hurts, and those of their families. And as you pray, the circle will grow wider than you would imagine, to perhaps people not in your quorum or your family but to those they love across the world. When you forget yourself to pray for the circle of others, your service will be extended in your heart. It will change not only your service but your heart. That is because the Father and His Beloved Son, whom you are called to serve, know and love so many people your service will touch, however limited to a few it may seem to be to you.
The third and final message you can watch for when you pray for help in a hard priesthood assignment is this one—I got this one as well—go to work. Priesthood power is given you to bless others. And that always takes moving out and doing something, usually something hard to do. So you can expect, in addition to assurance of God’s help and the command to forget yourself, the clear prompting by the Holy Ghost to go and do something which will bless someone’s life. That may be as obvious as going prayerfully to visit a person or a family or a quorum member to whom you are assigned to serve. For a father it may be to correct one of his children.
Whether what you do is to correct or to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ, you will do it better if you remember what success will be. You are to help Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, make eternal life possible for those you serve. To do that, the Spirit must take a testimony down into their hearts. And that testimony has to lead them to choose to keep the commandments of God, whatever storms and temptations may come.
With that in mind, the Spirit will guide you in teaching and correcting with priesthood power. You will keep yourself clean so that you will teach with the Spirit. You will pray for the Spirit to tell you when to correct and how to correct and how to show an increase of love (see D&C 121:43–44). Whatever you do in your priesthood service can be guided and measured by how well it could or did help the person take a testimony of the truth down into his or her life and heart, enough for the Atonement to work and keep working.
You can get assurance in your service. You can forget yourself and begin to pray for and love those you are to serve. And you can choose what to do and measure success by the degree to which it changes the hearts of the people you serve.
But it is never going to be easy for you or for those you serve. There will always be pain in service and in the repentance necessary to bring the power of the Atonement to change hearts. That is in the nature of what you are called to do. Think of the Savior, whose service you are in. At what point in His mortal life can you see an instance when it was easy for Him? Did He ask easy things of His disciples then? Then why should it ever be easy in His service or for His disciples?
The reason for that is suggested by the phrase “a broken heart,” about which you have been taught so well today. The scriptures sometimes speak of people’s hearts being softened, but more often the words describing the state we seek for ourselves and for those we serve are a “broken heart.” This may help us accept that our call to serve and the need for the repentance we need and seek will not be easy. And it helps us understand better why testimony needs to go down into the hearts of our people. Faith that Jesus Christ atoned for their sins has to go down into the heart—a broken heart.
Now, tonight let us decide together what we are going to do. All of us, whatever our callings may be, face tasks that are beyond our own powers. I do and you do. That’s true from the simple fact that success is to get testimony down into the hearts of people. We can’t make that happen. Even God won’t force that on anyone.
So success requires people we serve to choose to accept the testimony of the Spirit into their hearts. The Spirit is ready. But many people aren’t ready to invite the Spirit. Our task, which is in our power, is to invite the Spirit into our lives so that people we serve will want to have the fruits of the Spirit in their lives—the fruits that they can see in ours.
This leads me to some suggestions of what we can choose to do or not to do. Some things we can do invite the Spirit. Some force the Spirit to withdraw. You know that from your own experience.
No priesthood holder who wants to succeed will be careless about where his eyes may go. Choosing to look at images which incite lust will cause the Spirit to withdraw. You have been warned by Elder Clayton as well as you may ever be warned about the dangers of the Internet and the media in putting pornographic images before us. But immodesty is now so common that everyday life requires discipline—a conscious choice not to linger watching whatever might create in us feelings which would repel the Spirit.
The same care is required in what we say. We cannot hope to speak for the Lord unless we are careful with our speech. Vulgarity and profanity offend the Spirit. Just as immodesty seems to be more common, so does vulgar and profane language. It used to be that only in certain places and with certain groups would we hear the name of the Lord taken in vain or hear vulgar words and crude humor. Now it seems to be everywhere and, for many, socially acceptable, where once it was not.
You can decide—and you must—to change what you say even when you can’t control what others say. But I know from my own experience that even in such a terrible situation you can count on God’s help. Years ago I was an air force officer serving for two years in an office with a marine colonel, an army colonel, and a grizzled navy commander. They had learned to speak in war and in peace in a way which offended me, and I know it repelled the Holy Ghost. I was at the time serving as a district missionary, trying in the evenings to go out to find people and teach them under the influence of the Holy Ghost. It was very hard. I was only a lieutenant. They were very senior to me. I had no way of changing their language. But I prayed for help. I don’t know how God did it, but in time their language changed. Slowly the profanity disappeared and then the vulgarity. Only when they drank liquor did it come back, but that was in the evenings, so I could excuse myself for missionary work.
You can have memories like that to sustain your faith when life puts you in difficult places. God helps the faithful priesthood holder who decides to see and say no evil, even in a wicked world. It will not be easy. It never is. But you can have the promise fulfilled for you as I know that it can be for me: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven” (D&C 121:45).
I testify that I know that you and I hold the priesthood of God and that He will answer our prayers with sweet assurance and with the help to serve Him better. I so promise you and testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

One of my first memories of implementing this formula for revelation takes me back to when I was a young missionary. I was having trouble being obedient to a specific mission rule. The mornings were so cold and there was no heat in our little apartment. When the alarm went off at 6:00 a.m. it was difficult for me to answer the bell. The most comfortable place in the apartment was under my electric blanket. I knew that I would not be receiving the full blessings of obedience if I couldn't overcome this weakness. In my mind I felt that if I could only have a greater vision of the work, even an eternal perspective of my efforts as a missionary, that I would then be able to overcome the temporary hardships and inconveniences posed by these conditions. I remember focusing my every thought and desire on gaining that eternal perspective. I read scripture on the matter, I prayed unceasingly for this revelation, I obeyed all mission rules and I exercised my faith. Then, one evening, as I once again knelt in prayer seeking this revelation I received the righteous desires of my heart. I felt knowledge rush into my mind and soul, I recall it feeling like pure light was being poured into me. It was at one time exhilarating and overwhelming. It was then I gained an eternal perspective of this great, restored work and that knowledge, that personal revelation, continues to sustain me in all that I do today.

I have always learned in Primary and at home that we should be honest. We should not keep what does not belong to us, we should return change when we receive too much at the store, and we should always tell the truth even though we may be punished.
One day when I was nine, I was waiting on the school patio for my mother and I saw a wallet on a bench. There was money in it.
I thought about what I should do. My mother works very hard to take care of my two sisters and me, but things weren’t going very well at home. I thought about what I could buy.
Then I started to worry about the person who had lost the money and how much she would miss it. I sat down and waited because I knew she would come to look for it.
After some time, a very upset woman appeared and asked, “Have you found a wallet?”
I answered, “Is this it?”
Her joy was so great she hugged me. She thanked me again and again.
At that time, I did not even think about why I made the decision to be honest. But when I told my mother about it later, she said the Holy Ghost had whispered to me and I had listened to the still, small voice.
I am grateful for having learned to be honest.

Betsy stared at her friend. “I don’t believe them, but if you want to, it’s all right with me. But are you really sure? He’s taking everyone who’s baptized to Kirtland. If you join, I’ll never see you again!”
Kirtland! Mary Ann felt all funny inside. This Church was true, but she didn’t want to leave their warm home and travel far away. She hurried home. Mother would know if Betsy spoke the truth.
Her mother nodded. “Your father and I talked to Brother Reed last night while you were sleeping. He told us that all the Saints are gathering to Kirtland, Ohio. After we’re baptized, we’ll join them there.”
Mary Ann’s heart sank. How could they leave their home? How could they leave their friends? She sat down by the fire and poked at the coals.
Brother Reed came in and sat next to her. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
Her heart ached so much that it was hard to talk. “I don’t want to leave here.”
He nodded. “You’ve heard we’re gathering to Kirtland.”
“Yes.”
He smiled. “Let me tell you about Kirtland. You’ve met an Apostle of God, but in Kirtland there’s a real prophet of God, Joseph Smith. Imagine seeing someone who’s actually talked to God! The Prophet is the one who has commanded that we gather. You see, we’re building up the kingdom. We’re also going to build a temple.”
“A temple?”
“Yes. It’s a place where the Saints can gather to worship and teach one another the gospel.”
“Can I go in this temple?”
“Yes, but it isn’t built yet. We all need to help build it. There’s much to be done.”
Mary Ann thought about it. She wanted to hear the Prophet speak and to be with others who believed as she did. Suddenly she found she was eager to go to Kirtland.
Weeks later their farm sold, and her family joined several others in a small wagon train. With Brother Brigham leading the way, they started on their journey to Kirtland.
The wagons traveled slowly, and baby Anna got sick. Just when Mary Ann thought that they’d never get to Kirtland, Brother Reed ran alongside their wagon. “Kirtland’s just around the bend!”
The people urged their tired oxen on. Mary Ann bounced up and down on the wagon seat. Then she jumped down and ran ahead with the other children. As she turned the corner in the road, her heart sank. Where were all the beautiful buildings? Where was the temple Brother Reed had talked about? Kirtland was just a raw frontier town.
She plodded back to her parents. “I don’t like Kirtland,” she told them. “It’s ugly.”
Her mother smiled at her. “It’s just not finished yet. It’ll be beautiful some day. We’ll help to make it so.”
Brother Reed came and took Mary Ann by the hand. “Come with me.” He took her along a dirt road past a store and around the corner to the edge of a field. “This is where we will build the house of the Lord. When it is finished, it will be shiny and white and wonderful! It will be a fit place for the Lord.”
Mary Ann felt that sweet feeling she now recognized as the Holy Ghost. Maybe things weren’t what she expected, and maybe it would be hard to build a home again, but she knew that her family was doing what was right.
She looked at the field. It might be a long time before the temple was built, but it would be a temple of the Lord!

Alison touched her hair. Still wet, she thought, smiling. She gazed out the window of the car as it left the church parking lot. The Saturday afternoon looked brighter than usual. The trees seemed greener, the sky a deeper blue. I’ve done it! she told herself. I’ve been baptized.
She closed her eyes and relived the baptismal service in her mind. Dressed in white, she and her father sat on the front row of the chapel as the bishop spoke. “You will come out of the water cleansed from all your sins,” he said. “Then you can be confirmed a member of the Church and receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. If you keep the commandments, the Holy Ghost will be your constant companion and help you choose the right.”
Later, Dad stood waiting in the baptismal font. He took her small hand in his large one and guided her down the steps. The water was warm and clear. She looked up and saw her family and friends watching reverently. Mom smiled. Alison grasped Dad’s wrist with her left hand while he held her right wrist and raised his right arm to the square. She listened carefully as he said the baptismal prayer. Then she held her nose and her breath as he placed his right hand in the middle of her back and immersed her gently but completely under the water.
Warmth and peace surrounded her a moment before she was brought up out of the water by her father. Streaming water dazzled her eyes like diamonds. Through the glistening drops, she saw blurry faces smiling at her, and she smiled back. She felt so good, so clean—like a new person. She looked up at Dad. He smiled and hugged her close. She wanted to feel like this always.
After Alison changed into dry clothes, the family met in a classroom with the bishop. He and Dad put their hands on her head, confirmed her a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and gave her the gift of the Holy Ghost. Now Alison felt not only new and clean but strong, too, as if she could always do what was right, no matter what.
“So how do you feel?” Dad asked, breaking into Alison’s daydream.
She opened her eyes and grinned. “I feel good. I’ve never felt this good in my whole life. I’m never going to do anything wrong again. I’m clean now, and I want to stay this way.”
“That’s a wonderful goal,” Dad said, “but I’m afraid that we all make mistakes.”
I won’t, Alison thought, settling back into her seat. I don’t ever want to lose this feeling.
A couple of weeks later, Alison sat on the couch, studying the baptismal certificate the bishop had given her.
Tyler climbed up beside her. “Let me see it!” he demanded, grabbing the paper.
Alison held him off with an elbow. “This isn’t a toy. This is important.”
Tyler laughed and grabbed the paper as Alison jerked it away. With an ugly ripping sound, the certificate tore in half.
Alison stared a long moment in disbelief. Then a furious anger gathered around her like a storm. How could he destroy this precious thing! Tyler’s eyes were wide with fear and dismay, and Alison had a strong feeling that she should walk away before she did something bad. But she didn’t want to walk away. She wanted to get even. She let the anger rush in, filling her to overflowing, and she gave Tyler a push.
He tumbled off the couch. Before he could even catch his breath to let out his first angry howl, she jumped up and gathered him into her arms. The anger was gone, replaced by remorse and a sick guilt. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” Tears ran down her cheeks.
Mom and Dad came running in to see what was wrong. “I pushed Tyler on purpose,” Alison said. “I’ve only been baptized a couple of weeks, and I’ve spoiled it already.” She ran to her room, where she fell on her knees by her bed and prayed and cried a long time.
Finally the door opened and Tyler came in. “Don’t be sad, Alison,” he said. “I’m all right.”
Alison held him tightly. “I’m sorry,” she said again. “I’ll try to do better. I’ll try to be a good sister. Will you forgive me?”
Tyler gave her a huge, wet kiss on the cheek and a big hug. “I forgive you this much.”
Mom and Dad came in and sat down on either side of her.
“Alison,” Mom said, “your certificate can be replaced. That is important, of course, but that isn’t what is upsetting you, is it?”
“No—it’s that this time I messed up big time.”
Dad nodded. “We all do. The important thing is that we repent.”
Alison brushed away a tear. “How do I know for sure that I’ve repented?”
“Heavenly Father made it pretty simple,” Dad said. “First we need to recognize that we’ve done wrong and feel sorry for it. I think you’ve already done that. Then we need to ask forgiveness from the person we’ve sinned against and from Heavenly Father.”
Alison sighed. “I’ve been doing that.”
“Then we must try to make up for the wrong we’ve done.”
“I’m going to do something nice for Tyler every day,” Alison said. “I don’t want him to ever be afraid of his own sister. Is that all?”
“There’s one more thing,” Dad said. “We must try as hard as we can not to do the wrong thing again.”
Alison put her head on Dad’s shoulder. “I think the Holy Ghost tried to tell me not to push Tyler, but I wouldn’t listen. If He ever talks to me again, I’m going to listen.”
“He’ll talk to you,” Dad assured her.
“And I’m going to write down some ways of controlling my temper better, and work on them every day.”
Dad hugged her. “Good for you. If you do all those things, the Lord will forgive you and the Holy Ghost will be your Companion. Heavenly Father has promised it.”
“But I’m not clean anymore, and I wanted to stay clean forever. Can I get baptized again?”
“Well, no, but you don’t need to. The Savior knew that we’d make mistakes even after baptism, so He provided a way for us to be clean again. It always starts with sincere repentance, followed by something we do each Sunday in the chapel. Do you know what it is?”
Alison thought for a moment. “The sacrament?”
Dad nodded. “Right. When we’re baptized, we make covenants, or mutual promises, with God. One promise is that we’ll keep His commandments. Each Sunday when we take the sacrament, we renew those covenants. If we’ve repented of our sins, we become clean again.”
“Just as clean as when we were baptized?”
“Just as clean.”
The next day, Alison eagerly waited for the sacrament. She had followed the steps of repentance faithfully. When the sacrament came, Alison quietly put a piece of bread in her mouth. When the water came, she drank it reverently. A sweet peace filled her heart. Dad was right. She felt good again. Clean again.
Smiling, Alison reached up and touched her hair. This time it wasn’t even damp. But that didn’t matter—she was clean.

After experiencing some unexpected financial obligations as a single woman, I knew I needed to find a second job. Soon afterward, Marty, a sister in my ward, approached me and asked for my help. She and her husband were going on a mission, so she had to give up her job. She explained that every Saturday she helped an elderly woman, Ruth, who lived in an assisted-living complex. Marty offered me her job and told me that Ruth would pay me for my work.
The following Monday, Marty and Ruth explained my tasks, and I began my work a few days later. I started by gathering Ruth’s laundry and carrying it upstairs to the laundry room. Soon after I began, Ruth rushed in and shouted at me. She told me that I was never to wash her clothes without first asking.
I was doing only what she and Marty had asked me to do. Frustrated and hurt, I fought back the tears. I told myself that I didn’t need any more stress or problems in my life. I would have walked out that very moment had I not promised Marty that I would care for Ruth while she was away.
Week after week Ruth shouted angrily at me over everything I did. It seemed that I could never please her no matter how hard I tried.
I started praying for strength to endure Ruth and her harsh words, but nothing changed. I continued to resent having to help her.
Then one day I changed my prayers. I stopped praying for myself and started praying for Ruth. I asked Heavenly Father to help me understand her needs and how I could help her.
From that day forward everything changed. My heart softened, and my love for Ruth grew. Ruth changed as well. She opened up and shared her life, her joys, and her sorrows. She told me she missed her family. She told me of the wonderful things she had done in her past but could no longer do. She told me she was lonely and sad.
I began to look forward to seeing Ruth each week, and she looked forward to seeing me.
My experience with Ruth taught me a valuable lesson. When I truly served with my whole heart, I came to understand President Spencer W. Kimball’s (1895–1985) teaching that “in the midst of the miracle of serving, there is the promise of Jesus, that by losing ourselves, we find ourselves” (“Small Acts of Service,” Ensign, Dec. 1974, 2).

Sometimes we turn from the Lord because other people have made or are making mistakes. I don’t want to forget the story of the farmer who felt he had been wronged in the distribution of irrigation water and that the watermaster was at fault.
Having angered himself into distraction over the seeming unfairness, he sought out the watermaster, grasped him by the shirt bitterly, and said, “Tom, as long as you are watermaster, I won’t take another drop out of that ditch.”
What happened to that farmer? Well, he was a stubborn man. He kept his foolish vow. And he and his property dried up and blew away.

A little over a year ago a couple came into my office carrying a little boy. The father said to me, “My wife and I have been fasting for two days, and we’ve brought our little boy up for a blessing. You are the one we’ve been sent to.” I said, “What’s the matter with him?” They said he was born blind, deaf and dumb, no coordination of his muscles, couldn’t even crawl at the age of five years. I said to myself, “This is it. ‘This kind cometh not out save by fasting and by prayer.’” I had implicit faith in the fasting and the prayers of those parents. I blessed that child, and a few weeks later I received a letter: “Brother Cowley, we wish you could see our little boy now. He’s crawling. When we throw a ball across the floor he races after it on his hands and knees. He can see. When we clap our hands over his head he jumps. He can hear.” Medical science had laid the burden down. God had taken over. The little boy was rapidly recovering or really getting what he’d never had.

Sometimes the Lord works in other ways. Sister Sampson-Davis of Ghana was inspired to translate the Book of Mormon into her native language of Fante before the Translation Division was even assigned the task. While growing up, Sister Davis enjoyed associating with Christians. As a youth, she was so impressed with and grateful for Christ’s sacrifice that she felt a strong need to do something for him. Almost forty years later, after learning English in the Netherlands and returning home to Ghana, where she joined the Church, she found an opportunity to accomplish her girlhood desire.
One night after attending sacrament meeting, Sister Sampson-Davis realized that some of the people in the congregation did not sing from the hymnbook because they did not know English. She felt impressed to translate gospel materials for the benefit of her people, and that night she translated “I Am a Child of God.” The translation of other hymns followed.
Encouraged by accomplishing these small works of translation, Sister Sampson-Davis felt led to the enormous task for which she had been prepared over many years—translating the Book of Mormon into Fante. When the Church’s Translation Division reviewed Sister Sampson-Davis’s translation of the Book of Mormon, they were astonished that this schoolteacher, with little or no professional translation experience, had produced an excellent translation with a high degree of accuracy.
Sister Sampson-Davis is an example of the quality and dedication of translators the Lord has prepared, and is preparing for use by the Translation Division. Currently, the Division is working on translating doctrinal material in at least one major language for every nation of the world. This project, approved by the First Presidency in 1986 and called the Every Nation program, will result in reading material in many additional languages over the next few years.
The “every nation” title of the program is derived from a 1978 talk by President Spencer W. Kimball in which he said:
“If we only make a small beginning in every nation, soon the converts among each kindred and tongue could step forth as lights to their own people and the gospel would thus be preached in all the nations before the coming of the Lord.” (Regional Representatives seminar, October 1978.)
Eb Davis, director of the Translation Division, says of the program, “The Brethren are inspired in their direction of this work. Initially, we thought that many of the languages of the Every Nation program were so rare that we would have difficulties finding translators, but we discovered that the way was prepared for us. For example, we found twenty members of the Church from the Seychelles—islands between India and Africa—who could help us. We have forty members from Uganda that we can call upon, and we located four people in the Salt Lake Valley who speak Ethiopian.”
Lowell Bishop, who oversees the work in African languages, says that most of the translators for these languages have been members of the Church for only as long as the Every Nation program has been operating. He adds that for almost every language the Division has worked with so far, a member has indeed “stepped forth” to do the translation.
As an example, Brother Bishop describes the members the Division found to translate materials into two of the languages of Zaire—Lingala and Tshiluba. Church materials are translated into Lingala by Alfonse and Maguy Muanda, in addition to their being actively involved as stake missionaries and operating their own business.
Tshiluba is the native language of Ambrose and Louise Massala, but in their college days they lived in an area of Zaire where Swahili is spoken, and that became their daily language. Shortly after they were married, Ambrose suggested that they go back to speaking to one another in Tshiluba. Louise thought the suggestion strange because by then they had been speaking Swahili for a number of years. However, they began using Tshiluba again, and their children grew up speaking Tshiluba at home. Surprised when they were asked if they would translate material into Tshiluba, Louise said she finally realized why Ambrose was inspired to return to using a language they had almost forgotten.
But whether the language be Tshiluba, Hmong, or any of the many other languages that the Church Translation Division is directed to work with, the message must be “translated” into the daily lives of the individual Latter-day Saint. Like Brother Kua Lo, once we have the gospel, we need to share it with family members, neighbors, and friends, so that together we might all speak the eternal language of the gospel.
The importance of sharing the gospel has often been emphasized by President Ezra Taft Benson. On one occasion he said, “We are required to carry the gospel of Jesus Christ to every nation of the world … This commission to take the gospel to every nation, kindred, tongue, and people is one of the signs by which believers will recognize the nearness of the Savior’s return” (General Conference, April 1984.)

When selected chapels in your stake are only ten minutes from the Bull Run battlefield of Civil War fame, 20 minutes from George Washington’s Mount Vernon, and 30 minutes from Washington, D.C., it’s only natural that your stake roadshows would bear the theme, “What’s More American?”

And for the newly formed Fairfax Virginia Stake, they did.

On March 16 and 17, 176 youths paraded up aisles to open their first annual roadshows with just that question. They carried with them 176 possible answers in the form of corn flake boxes, toothpaste tubes, footballs, baseball gloves, Christmas tree decorations, American flags, rock albums, peanut butter jars, and an array of other paraphernalia.

“What’s More American?” was asked in song. It was answered at the song’s conclusion with a unanimous shout, “I am!”

Once it was established that there’s nothing more American than Americans, each decade of our 20th century was introduced with narration and slides made from authentic pictures of the period. Among the 76 slides shown were the Wright Brothers’ first flight, Henry Ford’s Model T, and Scarlett O’Hara’s Tara.

Each ward roadshow was developed around a decade and immediately followed its slide introduction. Wakefield Ward opened the century with Teddy Roosevelt frantically searching for his missing daughter, Alice. Even the Pinkertons were called in to assist. But it all ended happily with Alice’s lavish wedding to Mr. Longworth. Manassas Ward brought 1910–1920 alive with the suffragette movement.

The 1920s gave Fairfax Ward a story line that included everything from crashing airplanes to flappers and gangsters. Charlie McCarthy, Edgar Bergen, and Shirley Temple were among those who helped Americans through the “Hard-Time 30s.” Prince William Ward brought them all to life with lavish imagination and costumes.

Warrenton Branch introduced the ’40s with a wartime laboratory that was trying to split the atom but ended up inventing the milk shake. Stuffing phone booths, doodling, and viewing 3-D movies didn’t make much sense to “square” Freddie of the 1950s. Woodbridge Ward showed Freddie finally finding someplace where he could excel so he was no longer considered a square. Fancy Foot Freddie and Boogie Woogie Betty ended the decade with a swinging rendition of the jitterbug.

The curtain closed. The combo began playing. Once again the Fairfax Stake young people marched up the aisles and began singing, “What’s More American?”

To accompany their singing, slides of the most American thing around were flashed on two large walls: The young people themselves were featured. They were hiking, laughing, running, playing, working, singing, picnicking, camping, painting, practicing, listening, serving, learning, wondering, stretching, yelling, swimming, eating, dancing, and praying.

After it was all over, church members may have driven past Bull Run, Mount Vernon, and Washington, D.C., on their journeys home. But the most American things in this area were still at the Fairfax chapel removing make-up and costumes.

Illustration by Brad Teare
“Twinkle, twinkle …” Caleb’s fingers slowly moved over the piano keys as he searched for the next note. He’d only been taking lessons for a few weeks, and playing the piano was harder than it looked. This one, he thought as he pressed a white key. Wrong! He frowned and hunched over the piano as he tried again. Oh, this one, he thought, pressing another key. Right!
“That song is challenging,” said Mrs. Lee, his piano teacher, when he finished playing. “But it sounds better than it did last week! I can tell you’ve been practicing really hard. I think you deserve a trip to the treasure chest.”
The treasure chest! Caleb’s eyes turned to the big golden box in the corner of the room. It glittered with sparkly jewels and was filled with granola bars, pads of yellow paper, stickers, candy, and other fun prizes. This would be Caleb’s first trip to the treasure chest.
As Mrs. Lee started to teach her next student, Caleb searched through the treasure chest. Should he take the pad of paper, the dog stickers, or the orange gum? Then he saw it—a neon green folder. It was his favorite color, and he could use it to carry his drawings. He reached for it.
But then he saw the fruit snacks. They were strawberry, his favorite flavor. That would be a great prize too.
The folder or the fruit snacks? Caleb knew his mom would be there soon to pick him up, but he still couldn’t decide what to pick. The folder would be perfect for his drawings, but he could almost taste the fruit snacks. His hand hovered between the two prizes as he tried to make up his mind.
Then Caleb had another thought. Maybe he could take both. Mrs. Lee had so many prizes in the chest that she would never notice. It wouldn’t even be stealing, really—next time Mrs. Lee sent him to the treasure chest, he just wouldn’t take anything. That would be OK, wouldn’t it?
Caleb looked at Mrs. Lee. She was busy helping her student with his scales. Quietly Caleb slipped the fruit snacks and the folder into his bag and crept out of the room.
But Caleb didn’t feel very good. When he left Mrs. Lee’s piano room, he felt a small knot in his stomach. By the time he reached her front door, he felt like he had swallowed a bowling ball. He looked at his prizes, hoping that would help, but seeing them only made him feel worse.
Usually Caleb said a prayer when he felt bad, but he knew Heavenly Father couldn’t make him feel good about a bad choice. And taking both prizes, he knew, was a bad choice.
He looked at the prizes again. His question wasn’t Folder or fruit snacks? anymore. It was Choose the right or choose the wrong? Caleb knew what he had to do.
Honk! That must be Mom. He opened the door and waved. “Just a minute!” he called. He took out the green folder and started back to Mrs. Lee’s piano room. Apologizing wouldn’t be easy, and he still wanted the green folder, but already he felt more peaceful. Honesty turned out to be the best prize of all.

In order to put this in some kind of order, I thought I would share first with you the story of a woman I have known my whole life. Maybe some of her struggles will mirror some of yours or someone you know and are close to. The story starts like this: her challenges in life, unbeknownst to her, started when she was just a six-year-old little girl, unaware of the problems that were soon to be placed in her path by no decision of her own. Through the choices of someone else, she was placed in a state of sexual abuse that would last for about the next two years of her life. This created a change in her that her parents could see but could not identify why. According to her parents, she became angry, not as outgoing and fun-loving as she once was. They identified this with starting grade school but did not find out till almost 20 years later that the change in her had come from this abuse. The abuse stopped when she was eight years old, just before she was baptized. Her abuser thought if it was stopped by then, the damage would be corrected, but by then it was too late; the damage had already been done.

This created in her, an incorrect perception of how she needed to obtain love and attention. By the time she was 14 years old, she was sexually active, and pregnant by the time she was 16. She dropped out of school her sophomore year to get married and said goodbye to her childhood forever. She now was a child raising a child. Her parents had tried to talk her out of getting married so young. They wanted her to finish school and had offered to adopt her child as their own so that she could have the opportunity to finish, but she knew best. There was nothing they could do to convince her otherwise. She wanted out of the house and was going to get out one way or the other.

The next few years would show the delivery of a little girl, followed by a divorce, then a remarriage to the same man--who was and still to this point was a major drug addict--followed by three more children.

This time was very difficult for her because, as I had mentioned, he was a drug addict and became even more emotionally, mentally, and physically abusive, so the support that was needed was not available. I do not have the time in this devotional to even address a portion of what that all entailed, only that it was an extremely difficult time in her life. This time the marriage would end for good, with her husband being unfaithful. She was finally done. She could not handle any more and filed for divorce in 1988. She felt like the world had been lifted off of her shoulders, but like so many others that have fallen into abusive-like patterns, she had too, and jumped right back into another relationship with another guy who didn't have any better habits than her ex. And before long, he was slowly moving in, little by little.

She was working for a grocery food chain and had a good working reputation. She succeeded at pretty much any position that she put her hand to, but her personal life was not all what she wanted it to be. Then one day a situation happened to her that changed her whole life and put her back on the road to her Father in Heaven. She was checking out groceries, and a person came through the line next to her that would change her life forever. She went home that weekend and had an experience that helped her understand personally what Alma the Younger went through.

It was at this time that she immediately got all of the belongings together of the guy she was in the relationship with and took them next door to his friend's house, where his jeep was parked, and distributed his belongings back to him. She was afraid if she did this any other way, she might lose her nerve and not go through with it. After cleaning up in the material sense, she located the bishop over the area where she lived and made the appointment with him so she could clean up in the spiritual sense. By this time, she had been inactive for about 10 years. She knew there was a chance that she could be excommunicated, but it didn't matter anymore; all she wanted was to get her life back in order and right with the Lord. The kind of life she really wanted was never going to happen if she kept living the life she was. She needed to jump in with both feet and use the Atonement in her life, to whatever end, or beginning, that may bring. She knew she was not ready for the blessings of the kind of marriage she wanted to come into her life at that time, but she would be ready for those blessings in the future, if or when the opportunity would arise again.

So, in case you have not guessed, the young girl in the story is me. I say "is" instead of "was" because I want to claim all parts of that experience that has played a major role in who I am today. It continues to play a significant role in how I live through the choices I make in my life every day.

My appointment with my bishop proved to be an amazing experience. I likened it to one of my favorite scriptures during that time in my life, for I spent many hours in them. I had a hunger to feel of the Spirit and the sweetness of the Atonement working in my life on a daily basis.

The struggles increased for a while because the devil does not want to let go of someone that he has had so much control over. Sometimes the battle was almost too much to bear, but I was blessed with a very loving earthly father, who at times would give me a blessing daily so that I could resist the temptations and craziness that my previous life had helped create for me.

My dad was my hero! He had been quite sick most of my life and almost died one night, but he shared with me a blessing that was given to him, stating that his life was to be extended for three years so he could get the rest of his family in order. The rest of his family was me. He passed away a year after I married my spouse, who sits with me here on the stage today--three years total after the blessing he had received.

I had finally received my patriarchal blessing, and many other wonderful experiences had started to take place in my life, but I still doubted my worthiness to enter God's holy temple. I was kind of being silly yet very serious in the prayer I offered upon entering one day. I prayed that if I had not yet repented enough for what I had done, "Please let the men at the recommend desk not let me in. Please let them feel that I am not worthy to be here." Well, I made it past the first desk, so then I was praying that one of the workers may have a feeling that I shouldn't be here. (Do you ever find that you hold on to sin or mistakes to re-punish and re-punish yourself, making it a tool for the devil instead of using the Atonement as a tool from God?)

What I was hoping for was some validation that I was in good standing with the Lord, enough to be in His holy house. I was doing initiatory work that day when, out of the blue, the temple worker asked me if I was okay. I didn't answer right away, so she followed by asking me a very inspired question. She asked, "Have you taken proper means to take care of the sins of your past?" I about fell over. How did she know what I was praying for? I knew right then I was getting an answer to my prayers, just like l had asked God for, validated to me by one of His servants. I said to her, "Yes." Then she said something very profound to me in that moment that changed my heart. She said, "Then let it go!"

When they say that there is opposition in all things, I knew in that moment exactly what that meant to me, for in that moment no words could describe the joy I felt. I knew I had taken the proper steps for repentance, and it was time to "let it go!"