Gospel Story Finder

Oliver Cowdery came to stay at Joseph Sr. and Lucy Mack Smith’s home while he taught school near their farm.
Oliver heard about their son Joseph and the gold plates. He wanted to know more.
Oliver was fascinated to learn how God gave Joseph the power to translate the gold plates.
I want to help with the translation.
Once school is over, I will go and help Joseph.
You should pray and ask the Lord if that is right for you.
That night Oliver prayed and asked the Lord what he should do.
Oliver felt peace when he prayed about helping Joseph translate.
Soon Oliver set out to meet Joseph Smith. He travelled with Joseph’s brother Samuel.
Joseph, I’m here to help. I can be your scribe.
Thank you. I am grateful for your help.
Joseph and Oliver start translating. This experience thrilled Oliver, but he still had questions.
One day, Joseph received a revelation for Oliver reminding him of the answer to his prayer.
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.
“Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?”1
I prayed to know if I should come and help you, and I felt peace. No one could have known about this except God.
Oliver knew for sure that the work was true. He and Joseph finished the translation that became the Book of Mormon.

As I have visited stake conferences and other meetings in recent years, I have carried President Thomas S. Monson’s call to rescue the less-active members of the Church. At one stake conference I told a story of a less-active member who returned to full activity after his bishop and other leaders visited him in his home, told him he was needed, and called him to serve in the ward. The man in the story not only accepted the call but also changed his life and habits and became fully active in the Church.

A friend of mine was in the congregation to which I told that story. His countenance visibly changed as the story was told. He sent me an e-mail the next day telling me that his emotional reaction to the story was because his father-in-law’s story of returning to activity in the Church was very similar to the one that I had told. He told me that as a result of a similar visit by a bishop and an invitation to serve in the Church, his father-in-law reevaluated his life and his testimony, made major changes in his life, and accepted the call. That reactivated man now has 88 descendants who are active members of the Church.

At a meeting a few days later, I told both stories. The next day I received another e-mail which began, “That’s my father’s story too.” That e-mail, from a stake president, told how his father was invited to serve in the Church even though he had not been active and had some habits that needed changing. He accepted the invitation and, in the process, repented, eventually served as a stake president and then a mission president, and laid the foundation for his posterity to be faithful members of the Church.

A few weeks later I told all three stories in another stake conference. After the meeting a man came to me and told me that that was not his father’s story. It was his story. He told me of the events that led him to repent and come back to full involvement in the Church. And so it went. As I carried the call to rescue the less active, I saw and heard story after story of people who responded to invitations to come back and change their lives. I heard story after story of redemption.

Jacob likes to watch Daddy get ready for work. Daddy buttons his shirt and tucks it into his pants. Then Daddy puts socks and shoes on his feet. Jacob sees Daddy put a hat on his head. Daddy wears a coat and gloves because it’s cold outside. When Daddy comes home from work, Jacob puts Daddy’s shoes on his feet. They are too big. He puts Daddy’s hat on his head. It covers his eyes. He tries on Daddy’s coat. It drags on the floor. Daddy’s gloves are too big for Jacob’s hands. Daddy laughs. He puts on Jacob’s shoes. They are too small. The shoes cover only two toes on his feet. He puts on Jacob’s hat. It is too small. Jacob’s coat fits of one of Daddy’s arms. Jacob’s gloves only cover Daddy’s fingers on his hands. Jacob sees Daddy and laughs. Jacob likes playing dress up. He and Daddy have fun changing places!

Andy stood on the outside of the circle of bigger boys. He tried to see what they were doing. He jumped up and down until the things in his pockets almost fell out.
If only he were taller. If only he were older. Oh, how he wanted to play baseball with them!
Soon the circle of boys broke up. They ran off to the park, and Andy and his little dog, Katy, were left standing alone on the sidewalk.
Andy and Katy ran along behind the bigger boys.
“Wait for me!” Andy called. “Please wait for me!”
But the boys did not hear him. They ran on ahead.
“Their legs are longer than ours, Katy,” Andy told his dog. “We’ll have to hurry to catch up.”
Andy and Katy ran until their legs were tired, and then they slowed down.
A girl on a bike passed them.
“She goes fast because she has wheels,” Andy explained.
A tall man passed them.
“Look how long his legs are,” Andy told Katy.
A big dog ran past them.
“Wow!” exclaimed Andy. “That dog can run fast!”
Andy and Katy kept going. They saw a red box kite up in the air. High over a house, they also saw a blue kite.
Then they saw a boy about Andy’s size sitting on the curb. His kite string was in a tangle, and a torn kite lay on the sidewalk beside him.
“What happened?” Andy asked the boy.
“My kite got caught in the wires and the paper tore,” the boy answered. “I bought this kite as a present for my brother. I was just trying it out to see if it would fly all right.”
“Did it fly all right?” Andy asked.
“Until it hit the wires, it flew very well,” the boy said. “I guess I shouldn’t have tried to fly it. I should have let my brother fly it himself.”
Andy sat down next to the boy. “I have somewhere very important to go,” Andy explained, “but maybe I can help you first.”
Andy reached into his pocket and pulled out some tape and a pair of tiny scissors with rounded points.
“My name is Andy, what’s your name?” Andy asked the boy.
“Chris.”
“Okay, Chris, hold this paper on the stick right here, and I’ll tape it for you,” Andy instructed.
Together the boys taped the kite so it had no holes.
“I think the kite will be all right now,” Andy explained.
“But I don’t think I should fly it anymore,” Chris answered sadly.
“I have two kites at home,” Andy said. “One is in the shape of a fish and the other is red. I’ll go get both of them.”
Andy and Katy ran home and soon came back with the kites. Chris was waiting for them on the curb.
“Here,” Andy offered, “you can fly my red kite.”
“I’ll fly it in the park,” Chris said. “Then it won’t get caught in any wires.”
“I’ll walk with you,” Andy exclaimed, “because that’s where I am headed.”
“What are you going to do in the park?” Chris asked.
“I’m going to play outfield for my brother and his friends,” Andy replied, “if they’ll let me. Sometimes when they don’t have enough big players, they let me play.”
“That’s how my brother is,” Chris said.
When they arrived at the park, Andy looked at the ball players. “See those boys over there? That’s my brother and his friends.”
“I can see my brother playing first base,” said Chris. “You go ahead, Andy. I know you want to play ball.”
“I’ll help you get the kites set up first,” Andy answered.
As they put the strings on the kites, Katy ran through the grass sniffing at all the smells of the park. The wind was stronger now.
“You don’t have to help me anymore, Andy,” Chris told him.
“I know,” Andy replied. “I just want to see how the fish flies in this wind.”
So Andy let out the string and ran with the fish kite.
Chris let out his string and ran with the red kite.
Andy’s fish climbed up into the air. Then the fish dived and dipped back down. Andy pulled on the string and ran faster.
The giant fish went up, up, up—higher than his head, higher than the trees.
Andy let out more and more string. The fish went up until it seemed to be as high as the little white clouds that the wind was pushing across the sky.
Andy looked around for Chris. He saw him not very far away with the red kite high in the air.
Andy heard his brother call, “Hey, Andy, do you want to play right field?”
“No, thanks,” Andy called back. “I can’t now. The wind is just right for flying kites.”
Chris smiled at Andy. “It’s a good day for flying kites,” he laughed.
“It’s perfect,” Andy agreed. “Let’s do this again tomorrow.”
Andy looked at his new friend. Chris was the same size as Andy. Just the right size!

This celebration was so special that I traveled more than four thousand miles to return to my Samoan village of Faletele.
The village was already bustling with activity. Crowding in with the few hundred villagers were more than a hundred of my relatives from many parts of Samoa and scores of honored guests from other villages.
I started walking through the malae, heading toward the big, dome-roofed fale. There in that fale, visiting with the most honored guests, sat my beloved cousin Sama. Suddenly I was filled with pride and pain and love as I remembered when I first came to know Sama—Sama the Thumb.
I was a little girl then, just five years old. Sama was ten. His parents had gone to New Zealand for the dedication of the Mormon temple there, and Sama had come to stay with us.
I was sitting on the edge of the malae, watching the young men and boys play Samoan-style cricket, with dozens of players on each side. The spectators were shouting and cheering and singing and dancing to a rhythm beaten out on an old, empty kerosene tin. A bus stopped on the road, and one of my aunts got out, followed by a boy who struggled to carry a heavy basket. When they went to the Tuita‘ua’s fale, I followed them.
Tuita‘ua Ioane was the main matai in our family. Hundreds of relatives honored and obeyed him. Tuita‘ua is one of the great titles in Samoa, and the Tuita‘ua is respected by all Samoans.
“Go get Tofo and Malini,” Tuita‘ua Ioane ordered me.
I ran back to the cricket match to fetch my cousins. They weren’t happy to give up their places in the match, but they obeyed the Tuita‘ua’s orders to fix fried corned beef and baked bananas and lemonade for him, our aunt, and the boy—who we learned was our cousin Sama. They bowed low and showed great respect when they served Tuita‘ua Ioane his food on a leaf-covered tray. But I saw them scowl at Sama when they placed his food in front of him.
In the days that followed, scowls were replaced by smiles and laughs. Sama won us over with his stories and jokes and his sense of humor. Even though most of the cousins were much older than Sama, they soon accepted him not only as a cousin but also as a good friend. I tagged along when they gathered coconuts, chopped the grass with bush knives, played cricket, went inland to plant taro in the family taro patch, and sang songs while strolling through the village after evening prayer services. When Sama was with us, whether we were working or playing, we laughed and had fun.
Then on Saturday the boy cousins went spear fishing in the lagoon. Sama caught an octopus and was treated like a hero.
After the cousins had cooked the evening meal of fish, taro, palusami, and, of course, octopus, two of the cousins grabbed Sama’s arms and held him while another cousin beat out a solemn rhythm on a log. Tofo marched up to Sama carrying a tray of food, including the best parts of the octopus. Tofo’s face was stern.
“We honor Sama, the great octopus hunter,” Tofo said. “As long as you are here in Faletele, you, Sama, will have the honor of serving the Tuita‘ua.” Then Tofo smiled and handed the tray to Sama, and Malini put a necklace of fragrant buds around Sama’s neck and a red hibiscus flower in his hair.
On Sunday morning I couldn’t find Sama. All day I asked the people of the village if they had seen him, but nobody knew where he was.
Finally, in the late afternoon, long after our church services and our after-church meal were over, Sama came walking through the village in his white shirt and white lavalava. Tuita‘ua Ioane called him into the fale. “Where have you been, Sama?” he asked.
“In Fuapa‘epa‘e.”
“You walked eight miles to Fuapa‘epa‘e? And back?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Why?”
“Because that is the closest village where I can attend my church.”
Tuita‘ua Ioane took off his wire-rimmed reading glasses and laid them on the Bible, which he’d been reading. “Sama, the matai has made a decree that there will be only one church in Faletele and that all the people in Faletele will attend that church. Do you understand? You are part of my family, Sama, but you are also a guest in this village and you are under my protection. You know our rule.” He leaned forward and looked Sama in the eyes. “You do what you have to do.”
The following week none of the cousins mentioned Sama’s trip to Fuapa‘epa‘e. They continued to joke and laugh together as they worked in the taro and helped harvest a truckload of bananas that would go to New Zealand. On Saturday we all hiked to our secret waterfall, where we splashed and swam and lay out on the big rocks to be warmed by the sun. On our way home we caught prawns in the stream for dinner.
Trouble started on the second Sunday. I woke up to the sounds of arguing. Malini and Tofo were chasing after Sama, who was dressed in his white shirt and lavalava.
“Sama, you know what the village rule is!” Tofo shouted.
Malini grabbed Sama’s arm. “How can you show such disrespect to your matai?”
Though Sama was shorter than the two older boys, somehow he seemed taller as he stood boldly in front of them. “Tuita‘ua told me to do what I have to do. And this is what I have to do!”
As he started walking again, Malini shouted after him, “Sama, don’t embarrass your family like this!”
At the end of the day when Sama came walking back into Faletele, a woman made fun of Sama, calling him a bad name. All the cousins were angry at Sama and wouldn’t talk to him—all of them, that is, except me. I was glad to see Sama, and it was the first time that I had him all to myself. It was wonderful as we talked and sang and he told me stories.
In the morning the cousins took their long poles and went up the hills to gather breadfruit. Sama and I hurried after them.
We talked and joked as we knocked the breadfruit from the trees. It was almost like before, and all the cousins were starting to have fun together again. Then a group of villagers came by and called Sama “Mamona” and said mean things about Sama and our family.
There was no more joking among the cousins. For the rest of the week the cousins refused to include Sama in anything that they did. Tofo told me not to talk and play with him, but I did anyway whenever I could find him. Mostly he went off by himself into the forest.
“Maybe tomorrow you will remove our family shame and come with us to the village church,” Malini told Sama on Saturday night.
But on Sunday morning Sama was gone again. Next to each of our sleeping mats was a gift that Sama had made—octopus lures for Tofo and Gutu, a flute for Malini, toy fishing canoes for ‘Ene‘ene and Pisa, and a top and a pale for me.
When Sama returned that evening, I put on my pale and ran out to greet him. He was happy and eager to see the others—until he stepped on something in the grass. He looked down and saw one of the canoes he had made, now smashed and broken. He looked around and saw that his other gifts had also been broken and discarded.
“The villagers got them mad,” I explained. “But I kept mine. I like my presents very much. Thank you.”
Sama smiled at me, then went off by himself until it was time for the evening meal. As Sama got a tray of food ready for the Tuita‘ua, Tofo grabbed the tray away and shouted, “You are a disgrace to your family! You no longer get the honor of serving the Tuita‘ua!”
“And find someplace else to sleep,” Malini yelled. “You’re no longer welcome in the boys’ fale.”
‘Ene‘ene pushed Sama down, and Gutu raised his fists to hit Sama. “Because of you, our friends are calling us dirty names!”
I was afraid that the cousins were going to hurt Sama, so I ran to get Tuita‘ua Ioane. But he had heard and had already come to the edge of the fale. “You boys, stop it now!” he commanded. “All of you, come in here!”
At the sound of his voice, the boys immediately stopped. They walked meekly into the fale and sat down across from the old matai.
“Look at my hand!” Tuita‘ua Ioane held out his hand. “See how these fingers are bunched here together? And how the thumb is out here all by itself?”
We all looked at his hand.
“We have a saying here in Samoa: ‘The thumb stands alone, but it is the strongest of all the fingers.’”
Tuita‘ua Ioane pointed at each of the cousins. “You boys are the fingers. But Sama is the thumb!”
Even though I was very young, I learned many things that night. Tuita‘ua Ioane taught us about integrity, about standing up for what you think is right no matter what other people say, about being true to yourself and valiant in your beliefs. His words and Sama’s example changed my life.
As I stood on the malae thinking back to those days, a small girl came up to me and handed me a pale.
“Thank you.” I smiled at her and put it on. Then I walked up the steps of the big fale and removed my shoes. Sama saw me immediately. I made a thumbs-up sign. That had always been my secret sign to him. None of the other matai in the fale seemed to notice, and even if they did, it wouldn’t mean the same thing to them. They were there for just one reason—to honor the new Tuita‘ua. Tuita‘ua Sama.
But to me he would always be Sama the Thumb.

“If only Dagmar weren’t so aggressive,” thought Lars. “Then I could relate to her better.” He and his wife had been feeling distant from each other, and Lars wanted to feel again the oneness he and Dagmar had felt when they were first married.
Lars felt that maintaining a close relationship with his wife would be possible only if Dagmar changed. But then it occurred to him that perhaps he needed to do some changing himself. “What could I do to be united with Dagmar?” he thought. That question led to another: “What manner of man ought I to be?” (see 3 Ne. 27:27).
The question would not leave his mind. He remembered, for instance, how concerned Dagmar had been last Saturday about preparing for a Primary meeting. He had been grumpy, thinking that she would make them late for their son’s soccer game. Throughout the afternoon, his tension had grown, and at the same time, he had been jealous of how many hours she was spending in preparation for the meeting.
But now, while he read the scriptures with the companionship of the Spirit, the event began to look different. What manner of man had he been? Had he been helpful, supportive, or willing to sustain her in her calling? The evidence was against him.
It was becoming clear to him that his accusations against his wife had been expressions of his own selfishness. He wondered how he could have been so blind. Her support and sacrifice for him condemned him even further. That same Saturday he had become upset, Dagmar had risen early to type a report for him for his office.
The scriptures describe Lars’s situation clearly: “If we say that we have fellowship with [Christ], and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth.” (1 Jn. 1:6.)
As Lars began to repent of fault-finding, and as he asked the Lord for help, he received further promptings from the Spirit. He saw what he had earlier refused to see: his own need for spiritual refinement. The Holy Ghost was showing him how to have fellowship with his wife rather than how to change her.
When we seek to be obedient to the Lord, the fellowship we seek with our marriage partners becomes easier to obtain. The spirit will teach us what manner of men and women we ought to be.
But what kind of answers, if any, can we expect to receive if we approach the Lord having already judged our spouse to be aggresive or unrighteous or insensitive? Is it possible to get clear answers when praying with such resentments? The truth is, so long as we retain jealousy or resentment or anger or any other un-Christlike feeling, we resist spiritual guidance.

Each week Melissa looks at the family home evening chart to see what her assignment will be. When it’s her turn to give the lesson, she likes to use the Friend magazine. “If I use the Friend, I don’t need any help from my mom or dad,” Melissa explains. She often invites a friend to share family home evening with her family. One of her friends enjoyed coming so much that she asked her parents if they could have their own family night.

During the time on the plains, young Joseph learned many lessons of faith from his mother. Upon awakening one morning, the Smiths found that their best team of oxen was missing. The young boy and his uncle, Joseph Fielding, set out and searched an entire morning in vain. Fatigued and discouraged, they returned to camp. There they found Mary Fielding Smith on her knees, pleading for God to help them in this search, since the loss of the oxen would mean further delay in reaching their destination.
Arising from prayer, this youthful pioneer mother told her brother and her son to have breakfast, and she would bring back the cattle. She started toward the river, despite her brother’s protests that further search was futile. Ignoring first her brother and then a herdsman from a Missouri wagon train who tried to tell her that he had seen the oxen headed in the opposite direction that morning, Mary Fielding Smith continued walking to the river. Then, turning at the bank, she motioned to her brother and son to join her. As they did, they found the oxen tied to a clump of willows, hidden from sight. Someone had apparently put them there, planning to return after the pioneer group had moved on.
President Smith later said that this experience was “one of the first practical and positive demonstrations of the efficacy of prayer I have ever witnessed.” The impression it made on his mind was to aid him all through his life.

When I was a Mia Maid, I noticed a less-active girl in the same class as I was. I sometimes saw her at school in the hallways, at Mutual activities, church, and even at girls’ camp. It seemed no matter how often I would see her, she looked unhappy. I knelt down one night and prayed for the strength to somehow help her.

I remembered that I had once been in the same phase. I would smile with those closest to me, but on my way down the halls of the high school, I would be unaware of the frown on my face. One day a girl in school, who was walking past me, said, “Hi, Sara!” This made all the difference. Now I could greet people in the same manner and felt the desire to always speak to the girl who had helped me. Pondering this gave me a sudden thought. What if I said a pleasant word to the girl in Mia Maids?
The next day, I told myself I would greet her with a friendly “Hello!” But something inside held me back. So I passed her by and said nothing. As the days stretched on, the desire to help her increased. I knew I had to say something to her, and I wanted to do it soon.
I prayed several times in the early morning to gain the courage I needed. As I saw her walking down the hallway one day, I knew I had to act fast! I was afraid if I didn’t say something now, I would not be able to later. With a turn of my head, I faced her and said, “Hi!”
The instant results surprised me. Her face immediately lit up like a candle. I decided that from then on, I would make an honest effort to say kind words to her. Months went by, and I found she became one of my best friends.
I know that Heavenly Father was sending me a message the day I got the courage to go up and say “Hi!” We need to reach out to others and forget ourselves. We can pause for a moment to offer a kind word. We can ask, “How can I help someone smile today?” Heavenly Father will help. Don’t be afraid to ask. He will guide you and direct you in the path you should go.

During the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, I found myself coming to know and seek the Lord in deeper ways, including through family history. I remember during this time, I felt prompted by the Spirit to go and visit my father in Idaho. I hadn’t seen him for a couple of years, and the last time we met, we had left on poor terms. The prompting was to go the next day. I was hesitant, as I knew this would probably open up the possibility for hurt, frustration, anger, and other things I didn’t feel like I had the bandwidth to handle at the time. But the prompting was clear, so I messaged my father and said I was coming.

I drove for several hours that next morning. It was Sunday, and at that time the sacrament was being administered in the home, so I planned to take the sacrament while I was there. I remember pulling up in front of my dad’s house. He came out quickly and gave me a hug, which took me a little off guard. I then sat quietly in his humble home as he prepared the sacrament bread and water. We roughly sang a hymn, and then he knelt and offered the prayers.

I remember the moment well: an imperfect person, who was trying, was kneeling and blessing the emblems of the Savior’s body and blood. And me, another imperfect person, who was trying, was partaking of the sacred emblems offered. Both seeking to repent, to forgive, and to receive healing. Both renewing and making anew26 our covenants with God.

After the sacrament, we studied that week’s scriptures about Alma the Younger and his change of heart.27 Then, after dinner and a short walk with my dad, I drove quietly home. I hadn’t said much throughout that visit; I felt like an observer as the Spirit interpreted what I was seeing and feeling.

This experience was a small step, a small change in me, that led to a series of other shifts in my life and in that relationship. Things are not perfect yet, but I don’t think the Lord is as concerned about that, as much as He is about the status of our hearts, if we are seeking Him and if we are trying. I can feel the Lord caring for my family and helping us one step at a time.

Shortly after Truman was ordained a member of the Second Quorum of the Seventy, the Prophet Joseph Smith requested that he build a store in Kirtland, Ohio. Truman declined, telling the Prophet he was preparing to leave for a mission. The next day, however, Truman saw the First Presidency in the distance and felt prompted to accept the building assignment from the Prophet. He later recorded, “Accordingly I changed my determination and yielded obedience.”1

Tangible evidence of Maurice’s example to other Aaronic Priesthood holders in his ward is the Eagle Scout project he completed last year. Maurice organized a child identification day and invited people in his community to bring their children to the ward building on a Saturday so the children could be fingerprinted and videotaped. After police gave a presentation on ways to protect children, the parents in attendance took the fingerprint cards and the videotapes home. Now, if this information is ever needed to identify and find a lost child, it will be at the parents’ fingertips.
Maurice spent numerous hours coordinating this project, which attracted close to 100 children. As a bonus, he also asked people who came to bring one or two cans of food to donate to a food bank. He eventually filled three big boxes with canned goods.
“What I enjoyed about that project is that it was different,” Maurice says. “I really wanted to make a difference. I hope people never have to use their video or the fingerprint cards. I don’t want it ever to come to that point. But those things are a good safety net.”

My grandfather, Elizio Antônio Honório, had suffered a stroke and was very ill in a hospital in Brazil. The doctors said he had only a small chance of surviving. When I learned of this, I went to my room and asked Heavenly Father what I should do. As I knelt, I felt the presence of the Holy Ghost more powerfully than I ever had before. When I ended my prayer, I felt I should speak with my bishop, so I went to see him.
Though my grandfather is not a member of the Church, I asked the bishop to give him a priesthood blessing. I explained, “I believe in the power of the priesthood, and I believe the Lord can heal him. The Lord has prompted me to ask for this blessing.”
We went to the hospital, and the bishop gave my grandfather a blessing. The following day I visited my grandfather and found him seated on a chair conversing with one of my aunts. He was much improved.
I know this is truly the Church of Jesus Christ. I know the priesthood can bless us if we have faith in its divine power.

Last night I went to MIA. We had a different experience than we normally have. A master sergeant named Frank Brown called on Major Funk last week and asked about the Church. He said that his family in Florida was hearing the discussions and attending church, and he wanted to know more about what we believe. He said he has never seen his family so interested in church before. So Major Funk invited him to MIA.

Most of the members stayed in the regular room and read the Book of Mormon. Major Hollis, the district clerk, and I gave Frank the first discussion. It went quite well. I had practiced my half of the discussion this past week, after having been asked to give it.

Before going to MIA, I said a little prayer. I knew before I got there that things were going to be all right. The Holy Ghost really gives you help when you need it. Sergeant Brown is an honest man and expressed his feelings freely. We are planning to present the second discussion to him next Tuesday at MIA.

I had such a great experience last night. We met with Frank Brown again and presented to him the Book of Mormon lesson. Yesterday Frank received a Book of Mormon from his wife. It arrived with perfect timing. It was marked with specific scriptures to read.

Frank was very receptive to the discussion. He committed well and told us he believed the Church has been restored with the priesthood. He said he would continue to pray. I was really thrilled as he expressed his feelings.

It’s 9:00 P.M. and I’ve just come back from another discussion with Frank Brown. I don’t want to go back to the barracks and lose the wonderful spirit we felt. Here’s what happened tonight:

We held our meeting in the usual place, Major Hollis’ office. We have privacy there. I taught the complete lesson tonight, with Brother Hollis adding his testimony as he felt moved to do so. It was a beautiful discussion.

Frank answered our questions right down the line. He knows why we need to know the truth and how we obtain it. He bore his humble testimony that the Church of Jesus Christ has the truth because of the apostles and the priesthood. He told us how he could enjoy the blessings of the Church and the restoration by being baptized, but he said he still has some old ways that he must get settled. He really is a golden contact.

As the lesson progressed I asked, “What are some things men commonly take into their bodies that are harmful?” His answer included the things mentioned in the Word of Wisdom. He said he had just finished reading it tonight. His wife had sent it to him, and it arrived just the other day. I then asked him, “Why has God commanded us not to use these things?” He said, “Because of his great love for us. The use of these things harms us spiritually, too.” I asked Frank, “Do you use any of these things?” He said, “Not anymore!”

What an answer! Frank explained that a couple of weeks ago his cigar began to taste bitter anyway, so he decided he would quit smoking. He doesn’t like coffee, but he does enjoy tea. I said that if he could quit his tobacco, tea would be no problem. He used to drink occasionally but hasn’t since learning that his wife is interested in the Church.

Both Brother Hollis and I had tears in our eyes as we heard Frank bear his testimony about the Word of Wisdom. Neither of us had ever met a contact who had decided to live the Word of Wisdom before being told about it in the discussion.

As we finished the lesson, I asked him if his prayers had been answered about the restoration and the Joseph Smith story. He said he has been praying and he feels he has had his prayers answered.

It’s strange, but during the past couple of days, thoughts have been coming into my mind that I should forget about Frank because he wasn’t interested. I even thought that he wasn’t going to be there tonight. But I know now who put the thoughts in my head. Unfortunately, “Scratch” is having a wild time here in Vietnam. I’m sure Satan works against anyone being taught the truth.

Late yesterday afternoon Frank came to the office to ask some questions in regard to his wife’s latest letter. She told him briefly about sealing and temple work. Probably she just touched lightly on these deep subjects. He didn’t understand what we believed and wanted to know why his wife was so enthusiastic about the temple. Major Funk explained these subjects briefly but very simply and with much understanding. Frank seemed to have a better understanding of the gospel when he left.

Last night I had the privilege of teaching Frank and Terry the fifth discussion. I really enjoyed giving it. It was the lesson on the plan of salvation. Since Terry has already received the Holy Ghost, he really had a good understanding of the lesson. He answered the questions just as if he were reading from the book.

Frank said he called his family in Florida and asked them to make the arrangements for their baptism. His little girl, age nine, wrote and asked Frank if she and the rest of the family could be baptized. He decided to let them be baptized there in Florida, and he would be baptized here on the same day.

Frank is trying to coordinate with his family to be baptized on May 17. His wife couldn’t believe he was making the decision on his own, so I wrote her a letter explaining his conversion.

Frank was interviewed tonight, and it was announced to the congregation that he would be baptized. He asked me to baptize him. I was speechless. What an honor it will be to baptize Frank!

Frank Brown just came by and told me he received a letter this morning explaining that his family will be baptized in Florida at the same time on Saturday as he will be here. He was really happy. I’m certainly looking forward to Saturday morning.

I’m going to ask Dad to send me my line of authority. I’d like to let Frank know by what authority he was baptized.

What a great morning this has been. Frank was baptized!

He picked me up at 5:45 and we rode to the beach together. It was a beautiful morning. The sun had not yet risen above the horizon, and the clouds were just above the edge of the water. The stars were still twinkling. As we arrived at the beach, the golden haze of dawn made the sky a brilliant yellowish-orange, and this color was reflected in the calm sea. The fishing boats, several miles from shore, were returning from their night’s work. After a few minutes, more brethren arrived. Altogether, ten members from the Church attended the service.

The opening song was “Come, Come Ye Saints,” and considering the early hour, it sounded pretty good. After the opening prayer, the first counselor gave a talk about baptism. It was a good talk. Then Frank and I waded into the cool, clean water. It was very serene, peaceful, and smooth. We turned and faced the group on the beach.

As Frank came out of the water, he had a special radiance about him. He was purified as he had never been before. I’m very happy I had the chance to share the gospel with him.

We walked back to the group, and after changing into dry clothes, Frank was confirmed a member of the Church by Brother Hollis and given a wonderful blessing. President Coates and I stood in the circle to confirm him. After everyone had welcomed him into the fold, Frank took me back to my barracks, but we didn’t have much to say as we rode. We were just thinking.

Frank attended all three meetings yesterday. He spoke in last night’s sacrament meeting. He bore his testimony and then told about his family. He said, “I know this is the true church of God. I have been in other churches before this one, but the other ones don’t have the priesthood.” His family sent him word that they were baptized last Saturday in Florida. Frank was ordained to the office of deacon yesterday in priesthood meeting. He passed the sacrament in Sunday School and at sacrament meeting.

At church Frank told me about his family. They are active in their ward. He said his sixteen-year-old boy is already talking about a mission. The daughters will be helping their mother teach a Junior Sunday School class. Frank will fit right in when he returns home in September.

“I wish we didn’t have to take the tree down,” Jeff sighed. “It still looks so pretty.”
“I know it does, honey,” Mom said, “but Christmas was 10 days ago.”
Jeff and his mother carefully wrapped shiny ornaments, bows, lacy stars, and the treetop angel in pieces of tissue paper and put them in boxes so nothing would break.
“Next Christmas we’ll decorate the tree again,” Mom said, “and we can make lots of new ornaments.”
She took the last string of lights off the tree, and Jeff put away the ornaments he’d made in church.
“The empty tree looks lonely. It makes me feel sad,” Jeff said. “I wish we could have Christmas all year.”
“In a way, we can,” Mom said. “Christmas means giving, and we can do that all year.”
“But how?” Jeff asked.
“Well, for one thing, the tree doesn’t have to stay empty.” Mom went into the kitchen and got bread, cranberries, and nuts from the cabinet.
“Let’s take the tree outside and put it near the kitchen window. Then we can put the food on the branches for the birds.”
After Jeff and his mom put on their coats, they lugged the tree into the backyard and trimmed it with the food.
“Now the birds can sing while they eat,” Jeff said with a smile. “What else can we do?”
“Let’s go inside. It’s cold out here,” Mom said.
While Jeff looked out the window at the blue jays and cardinals eating food from the tree, Mom found a notebook. “Let’s make a Christmas All Year calendar,” she said. “We’ll fill it with good things to do that will make others happy. Each month we can do a different project. We did the food tree, so let’s write that on the calendar for January.”
Jeff enjoyed making the calendar. When it was finished, here’s how it looked:
JANUARY—Make a Christmas food tree for the birds.
FEBRUARY—Bake valentine cookies for neighbors.
MARCH—Make snowmen for friends.
APRIL—Plant flowers in our garden.
MAY—Help older neighbors clean their yards.
JUNE—Pick strawberries and give them to someone.
JULY—Have a picnic with our family.
AUGUST—Have a lemonade stand.
SEPTEMBER—Help my teacher keep the classroom neat.
OCTOBER—Have fun raking leaves in our yard.
NOVEMBER—Invite friends for Thanksgiving dinner.
DECEMBER—Decorate the Christmas tree.
“We can celebrate Christmas all year!” Jeff declared as he helped Mom hang the calendar on the kitchen wall. Outside it started to snow, so Jeff put on his hat, coat, and mittens and ran out into the front yard. His neighbors were taking down their outdoor Christmas decorations. They waved. Jeff called to them, “Merry Christmas to you for the whole year!”

In the listening audience today are Jeff and Joyce Underwood of Pocatello, Idaho. They are parents of Jeralee and their other five children. Jeff works on a building maintenance team that cares for some of our chapels in Pocatello, Idaho. Joyce is a mother and homemaker. One day last July, their daughter Jeralee, age eleven, was going door to door collecting money for her newspaper route. Jeralee never returned home—not that day, nor the next day, nor the next, nor ever.

Two thousand people from the area had gone out day after day to search for her. Other churches sent support and food for the searchers. It was learned that Jeralee had been abducted and brutally murdered by an evil man. When her body was found, the whole city was horrified and shocked. All segments of the community reached out to Joyce and Jeff in love and sympathy. Some became angry and wanted to take vengeance.

After Jeralee’s body was found, Jeff and Joyce appeared with great composure before the television cameras and other media to publicly express their profound thanks to all who had helped in the search and who had extended sympathy and love. Joyce said, “I know our Heavenly Father has heard and answered our prayers, and he has brought our daughter back to us.” Jeff said, “We no longer have doubt about where she is.” Joyce continued, “I have learned a lot about love this week, and I also know there is a lot of hate. I have looked at the love and want to feel that love, and not the hate. We can forgive.”

Elder Joe J. Christensen and I, representing the General Authorities, were among the thousands privileged to attend Jeralee’s funeral service. The Holy Spirit blessed that gathering in a remarkable way and spoke peace to the souls of all who attended. Later, President Kert W. Howard, Jeralee’s stake president, wrote, “The Underwoods have received letters from people both in and out of the Church stating that they prayed for Jeralee, and they hadn’t prayed in years, and because of this, they had a renewed desire to return to the Church.” President Howard continued, “We will never know the extent of activation and rededication this single event has caused. Who knows the far-reaching effects Jeralee’s life will have for generations untold?” Many have come into the Church because they wanted to know what kind of a religion could give the Underwoods their spiritual strength.

I mention the good coming from this tragic event with Jeralee’s parents’ full approval and encouragement. Their sweet daughter was like the lad who had only five barley loaves and two small fishes to give to the cause of the Savior, but by the power of God, countless thousands have been spiritually fed.

Pat: In that same spirit may I just insert a very personal piece of counsel on a matter that has been a great blessing to us and I believe can be a great blessing to you. While working on his Ph.D. at Yale University, my husband got to know well one of the senior reference librarians who had given him valuable help researching for his dissertation.
On a whim one day, he said, “Ilene, I need to know how many books we have in either the Sterling Memorial or Beinike Rare Book Libraries that claim to have been delivered by an angel.”
The librarian gave him a peculiar look (but my husband has always received peculiar looks) and said, “I don’t know of any books that have been delivered by angels. Swords maybe. Or chariots. But I don’t know of any books.”
“Well, just run a check for me would you? It may take a little doing, but I really would like to know. It would help me with some religious writing I am doing.” (Now, please understand that Yale has the fourth-largest library in the nation, with nearly 9,000,000 volumes in its collection.)
Ilene dutifully did some checking. For several days she had nothing to report, but then one day was all smiles as my husband strolled by to his carrel.
“Mr. Holland, yoo hoo,” she said, very unlibrarianlike. “I have a book for you. I found one book which, it is claimed, was delivered by an angel. But it’s one from your people,” she said. (She always spoke of Latter-day Saints as my husband’s people, which probably meant she had him confused with Wilford Woodruff.)
“But it’s one from your people,” she said, and she held up a paperback copy of the Book of Mormon. “I’m told you can get them for a dollar.”
“My word,” she continued. “An angel’s book for a dollar. You would think angels would charge more, but then again, where would they spend it?”
Well, that’s a funny—and true—story, but I wonder if we have considered the majesty of our message to the world. Prophets are not just everyday people, and angels do not visit us often, but of all the books that will be at your disposal this year at the university, only one has been delivered by an angel.

“When he was older and wanted to join a baseball team, … the other [boys laughed] at him, … calling him a ‘sissy’ because he could not throw the ball between the bases. His teammates teased him so much that … he … made up his mind that he was going to play with the nine who would win the championship of the Territory of Utah. He purchased a baseball and practiced hour after hour, throwing at a neighbor’s old barn. Often his arm would ache so much he could hardly … sleep at night. He kept on practicing and … improving and advancing from one team to another until he finally [succeeded] in playing [on the team that] won the [territorial] championship!”

I listened recently to a speaker in our ward sacrament meeting. For many years he had served as a bishop and in many other capacities. But he spoke of a wonderful assignment that he and his wife recently had to nurture a new convert who had come into the Church, a young mother with three children. They taught her regularly, once a week. They built her testimony. They taught her the gospel in all its various aspects. They encouraged her with the assignments she had in the ward. They were always there to answer her questions, to enlighten her, to bring understanding of some doctrine that was unclear. They had done this until she and her children had strength to move with security on their own. The young mother and her children have now moved to another area. But this woman, who became the beneficiary of their interest, continues to write to them with expressions of love and appreciation.

In 1878 my great-grandfather George F. Richards was 17 years of age. As was sometimes the case in those days, he had already been ordained an elder. One Sunday his mother was groaning in intense pain. As his father was not available, the bishop and several others were invited to give her a blessing, but no relief came. Accordingly, she turned to her son George and asked him to lay hands on her head. He wrote in his diary, “In the midst of my tears for my mother’s suffering and the task of performing an administration such as I had never yet done, I retired to another room where I wept and prayed.”
When he became composed, he laid his hands on her and gave her a very simple blessing. He later noted, “My mother ceased her groaning and received relief from her suffering while my hands were yet on her head.” He then recorded in his diary this most insightful observation. He said he had always felt that the reason his mother did not get relief from the bishop’s blessing was not because the Lord failed to honor the bishop’s blessing but because the Lord had reserved this blessing for a boy, to teach him a lesson that the priesthood in the boy is just as powerful as the priesthood in the man when exercised in righteousness.
Tonight I would like to speak about that power. Though I will refer to deacons quorum presidents, the principles discussed apply to all Aaronic Priesthood youth and their respective leaders, including our teachers quorum presidents and assistants to the priests quorum president.
While serving as a mission president, I observed that there was a dramatic increase in the spirituality and leadership skills of young men during their mission years. If we could somehow quantify these qualities over their Aaronic Priesthood and mission years, perhaps they would look something like the blue line you see on this graph. In my mind there are at least three key factors that contribute to such dramatic growth in the mission years: (1) we trust these young men as never before, (2) we have high but loving expectations of them, and (3) we train and retrain them so they can fulfill those expectations with excellence.
Mission Years
Spirituality and Leadership
One might appropriately ask, “Why could not these same principles be employed with deacons quorum presidents?” If that were done, perhaps the growth would commence much earlier and look more like the green line on the graph. For a moment, may I address how these principles might apply to a deacons quorum president.
First—trust. We can entrust our deacons quorum presidents with great responsibility. The Lord certainly does—as demonstrated by His willingness to give them keys, meaning the right to preside over and direct the work in their quorum. As an evidence of this trust, we call deacons quorum presidents by revelation, not solely by seniority or any other similar factor. Every leader in this Church, including the deacons quorum president, has the right to know, and should know, that he has been called by revelation. This assurance helps him know that God both trusts him and sustains him.
The second and third attributes are interconnected—high expectations and the related training to fulfill them. I learned a great lesson in the mission field: missionaries generally rise or fall to the mission president’s level of expectation, and so it is with deacons quorum presidents. If they are expected only to conduct quorum meetings and attend bishopric youth committee meetings, then that is all they will do. But you leaders can give them a greater vision—the Lord’s vision. And why is vision so critical? Because with increased vision comes increased motivation.
Inherent in every calling in this Church is the right to receive revelation. Hence, these deacons quorum presidents need to know they have the right to receive revelation to recommend their counselors, the right to receive revelation concerning rescue of the lost, and the right to receive revelation to train the quorum members in their duties.
A wise leader will teach the deacons quorum president those principles that will be helpful in obtaining revelation. He may teach him the unequivocal promise of the Lord: “If thou shalt ask, thou shalt receive revelation upon revelation” (D&C 42:61). The Lord is most generous in giving revelation. Did He not remind Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery, “As often as thou hast inquired thou hast received instruction of my Spirit” (D&C 6:14)? And so it can be with you deacons quorum presidents. The Lord loves you and wants to reveal to you His mind and will. Could you ever imagine the Lord having a problem He could not solve? I can’t. Because you are entitled to revelation, He can help you solve every concern you have as president of your quorum if you will but seek His help.
You wonderful leaders might teach this deacons quorum president that revelation is not a substitute for hard work and homework. President Henry B. Eyring once asked President Harold B. Lee, “How do I get revelation?” President Lee responded, “If you want to get revelation, do your homework.”1 The wise leader might discuss with his deacons quorum president some of the spiritual homework he might do in preparing to recommend his counselors. He might need to ask and answer questions such as: Who would be a good example that could lift the other boys? Or who would be sensitive to the needs of those who face special challenges?
And finally this wise leader might teach him how to recognize and act upon revelation when it comes. We live in an action-packed, fast-paced world where bright lights and high-volume speakers are the norm. But this young man needs to know that this is the world’s way, not the Lord’s way. The Savior was born in the relative anonymity of a manger; He performed the most magnificent and incomparable act of all time in the quiet of a garden; and Joseph received his First Vision in the seclusion of a grove. God’s answers come by the still, small voice—feelings of peace or comfort, impressions to do good, enlightenment—sometimes in the form of tiny seeds of thoughts which if reverenced and nourished can grow into spiritual redwoods. Sometimes these impressions or thoughts might even cause you deacons quorum presidents to recommend as a counselor or extend an assignment to a young man who is currently less active.
Years ago as a stake presidency, we felt impressed to call a good man as stake clerk. At the time he was temporarily struggling with regular Church attendance. We knew, however, that if he accepted the calling, he would do a marvelous job.
We extended the call, but he replied, “No, I don’t think I can do it.”
Then an impression came. I said, “Well, I guess the Glendale stake won’t have a stake clerk then.”
Shocked, he responded, “What are you talking about? You have to have a stake clerk.”
I replied, “Do you want us now to call someone else to serve as stake clerk when the Lord impressed us to call you?”
“OK,” he said, “I’ll do it.”
And do it he did. There are not only many men but also many boys who will respond to a call when they know the Lord is calling them and that the Lord needs them.
Next you can let this deacons quorum president know that one of the Lord’s expectations of him is to rescue the lost, both less active and nonmember. The Lord declared His central mission in these terms: “For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost” (Matthew 18:11). If it is a priority of the Savior to rescue the lost, if it is a priority of President Thomas S. Monson to do so, as demonstrated by his entire life, should it not be a priority of every leader, every deacons quorum president in this Church to do likewise? At the core of our leadership, as a central part of our ministry, should be the burning, driving, unrelenting resolve to go get the lost and bring them back.
One young man who was visited by his quorum members said: “It was surprising today when … 30 people just came up to my house. … It makes me want to go to church now.” How can a youth resist love and attention like that?
I am thrilled when I hear the many stories of deacons quorum presidents who have caught the vision and occasionally are teaching all or part of the lesson in their quorum meetings. Several weeks ago I attended a deacons quorum class. A 12-year-old boy gave a 25-minute lesson on the Atonement. He commenced by asking his fellow deacons what they thought the Atonement was. Then he shared some meaningful scriptures and asked thoughtful questions, to which they responded. Realizing, however, there was more time than remaining lesson material, he had enough presence of mind and perhaps some forewarning from his father to ask the leaders who were present what questions they had been asked about the Atonement on their missions and their responses. He then concluded with his testimony. I listened in awe. I thought to myself, “I don’t recall ever giving a significant part of a lesson when I was an Aaronic Priesthood youth.” We can raise the bar and vision for these young men, and they will respond.
You leaders lift these deacons quorum presidents best when you let them lead out and you step back from the spotlight. You have magnified your calling best not when you give a great lesson but when you help them give a great lesson, not when you rescue the one but when you help them do so.
There is an old saying: do not die with your music still in you. In like manner I would say to you adult leaders, do not get released with your leadership skills still in you. Teach our youth at every opportunity; teach them how to prepare an agenda, how to conduct meetings with dignity and warmth, how to rescue the one, how to prepare and give an inspired lesson, and how to receive revelation. This will be the measure of your success—the legacy of leadership and spirituality you leave ingrained in the hearts and minds of these young men.
If you deacons quorum presidents will magnify your calling, you will be instruments in God’s hands even now, for the priesthood in the boy is just as powerful as the priesthood in the man when exercised in righteousness. And then when you make temple covenants and become the missionaries and future leaders of this Church, you will know how to receive revelation, how to rescue the one, and how to teach the doctrine of the kingdom with power and authority. Then you will have become the youth of the noble birthright. Of this I so testify in the name of Jesus Christ, who is the Savior and Redeemer of the world, amen.