Gospel Story Finder

My mom never accepted the gospel in her earthly journey, even though I had prayed for her and felt she would accept it someday. She was a strong woman who sacrificed throughout her life to support our family after the Korean War. On the one-year anniversary of my mom’s death, my wife and I went to the Los Angeles California Temple to perform her baptism and confirmation. The strong Spirit in the room confirmed to me that my mom gladly accepted the gospel and the ordinances.

In the vicinity where I once lived and served, the Church operated a poultry project, staffed primarily by volunteers from the local wards. Most of the time it was an efficiently operated project, supplying to the bishops’ storehouse thousands of fresh eggs and hundreds of pounds of dressed poultry. On a few occasions, however, being volunteer city farmers meant not only blisters on the hands but also frustration of heart and mind.
For instance, I shall ever remember the time we gathered the Aaronic Priesthood young men to give the project a spring-cleaning. Our enthusiastic and energetic throng assembled at the project and in a speedy fashion uprooted, gathered, and burned large quantities of weeds and debris. By the light of the glowing bonfires, we ate hot dogs and congratulated ourselves on a job well done.
However, there was just one disastrous problem. The noise and the fires so disturbed the fragile population of 5,000 laying hens that most of them went into a sudden molt and ceased laying. Thereafter we tolerated a few weeds so that we might produce more eggs.

The importance of what a good reputation means was emphasized to me when I entered into business many years ago with a great business leader. Our plans were to start a new wholesale business. He was to furnish the capital, and I was to furnish the management. After we reached an understanding he wrote me a check for a very large amount of money, and then he said, “If the business is a success, you will get all the credit; and if the business fails, you will likewise get all the credit.” He then went on to say, “Should the business fail, you will lose more than I will. I’ll only lose money, and I have more of that; but you will lose your reputation, which is much more valuable than money.”

I will never forget the value this highly successful businessman placed on reputation. Fortunately for both of us, the business was successful.

Many years ago when our four children were small, my husband took a job in another state while I stayed behind until our two older children finished school for the year. We had recently been assigned new home teachers, who had the chance to visit only twice before my husband was transferred.
One night after putting the children to bed, I heard our baby girl crying in her room. When I picked her up, I noticed that she was burning with fever. I considered taking her to the hospital, but a quick perusal of our new insurance policy showed that it covered only residents of Idaho—the state where my husband now worked. The rest of us were still residents of the state of Washington.
I grew alarmed when I took our daughter’s temperature—105 degrees Fahrenheit (41 degrees C). I immediately knelt in prayer and fervently asked for help. An answer came that I would never have considered: “Call your home teachers.”
The hour was growing late, and I knew that the two men, Brothers Halverson and Bird, had undoubtedly retired for the night. But I picked up the phone and called Brother Bird anyway, quickly telling him what was wrong. Within five minutes, at 11:00 p.m., my home teachers were at the front door—in suits and ties.
By this time our baby’s cheeks and eyes were red, and her hair was plastered with sweat. She whimpered with pain, but Brothers Bird and Halverson were calm as they took her. Then, laying their hands on her head, they gave her a blessing and told her in the name of the Savior to be healed.
When I opened my eyes after the blessing, I could hardly believe what I saw. My daughter was giggling and squirming to be let down to play. Her fever was gone!
“I could feel her cool down as we administered to her,” Brother Bird said to me as we all watched my child in amazement. They soon left, after which I was up for several hours with a baby who wanted to stay awake and play. I didn’t mind a bit.
Many years have passed since that night when two ministering angels, in the form of home teachers, blessed my child. Soon afterward we moved to Idaho and lost touch with them, but I will always be grateful to two kind home teachers who came at the eleventh hour on the Lord’s errand.

Bryan’s favorite family home evening lesson was one his mom gave on repentance. She hid paper footprints around the house. Each footprint had a step of repentance written on it. The children first had to find the hidden steps. “I found some and let Rachel find some,” Bryan recalls. Then the family talked about each one and put them in order on the floor. Then each person walked on the footprints, naming the steps of repentance as he or she went.

“I want to be a missionary. I’ve been reading the scriptures to prepare.”

Bryan knows that all Latter-day Saints have been called to be a light to the world and that his home is a “lighthouse” for neighbors and friends. His family is looking forward to going to yet another house of light—the holy temple—where they will be sealed for time and eternity. They want all the light they can get.

Last night I had the wonderful experience of teaching another fellow, Terry Kranz, the first discussion. He just became interested in the Church. A new fellow who just came to Nha Trang—Jerry Eberwein, who himself was baptized while I was at Ft. Gordon—moved into Terry’s company and increased Terry’s interest in the Church. He committed right down the line during the discussion. He has already read several pamphlets.

At the conclusion of the discussion I asked Terry to pray, and he did! Brother Hollis and I felt that Terry is ready, so we’re going to teach him the second discussion tonight.

Last night before sacrament meeting we had the third discussion with Terry. He has now caught up with Frank, and they will both hear the fourth discussion tomorrow night, Tuesday. Since Major Hollis has not memorized the third discussion, I had the privilege of teaching all of it. Terry is already living the Word of Wisdom. He is thinking about being baptized but wants some more questions answered.

Last night Major Funk and I went to MIA, where I taught the fourth discussion to both Frank and Terry. They are both living the Word of Wisdom, and Frank has already read First Nephi.

After the discussion, Terry said he wants to be baptized as soon as possible.

After an interview by one of the district presidency, he’ll be ready.

The past couple of days I’ve been in a terrible mood. I couldn’t understand why, either. I was irritated by such little things. After hearing Terry eagerly request baptism, I really know why I had been so discouraged. “Scratch” has been putting thoughts in my mind.

This Saturday we are having Terry’s baptismal service on the beach at sunrise. We’ll meet at 6:00 A.M. I’m really looking forward to it. We have not taught Terry all of the discussions, but we have only two more to go. Jerry Eberwein will baptize him. I don’t know who will confirm him.

A baptismal service is a great way to start the day. We held it at the beach at 6:00 A.M., as some of the LDS fellows had to go on duty at 7:00. We were the only ones on the beach.

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was just coming up, there were no clouds in the sky, and the green sea was as smooth as glass. The air was still and clean-smelling. After the opening song and prayer, I gave a talk about the importance of baptism. I told Terry his baptism was like opening a door to the rest of his life. (I quoted Rom. 6:4–5.)

Jerry Eberwein performed the baptism. After Terry was baptized, we elders confirmed him a member of the Church. It was a wonderful service. By the time we had finished, the sun had just risen above the horizon of the South China Sea.

Terry has a strong testimony and really wants to live the commandments. A few weeks ago, he prayed that he could find the true church and know the truth about religion. A fictional book about life among the Mormons came into his possession. He read it and wanted to know more about the Church. He continued to pray and asked Heavenly Father to show him the way he should go. About a week later Jerry moved into his barracks. He began to answer Terry’s questions, and Terry became very interested. He wanted a copy of the Book of Mormon to read, so Jerry loaned him his. He felt this was an answer to his prayers.

As I’ve thought about how quickly Terry has accepted the gospel, I realize how important our example and attitude toward the Church is to our fellowmen. I wonder if Terry would have found the Church if Jerry had not been active and willing to share his testimony. Before coming to Vietnam, I didn’t know I would have the opportunity to teach the gospel using the missionary lessons; I had only expected to answer questions when my friends learned I was a Mormon. But I am happy I have been able to use the lessons.

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.

This afternoon at priesthood meeting, I had the privilege of standing with the priesthood holders and ordaining Terry to the Aaronic Priesthood. President Coates was the voice of the group. Terry seemed to mature to another plateau after his ordination. He passed the sacrament during Sunday School, and I was sure proud of him.

Peni and Jieni Naivaluvou doubled the size of their family when they took in four girls from Vanuatu who were attending the Fiji LDS Church College. But the Naivaluvous do not see this as a sacrifice. They feel they have been amply blessed for doing it. One of those blessings, they believe, is the addition to their family of baby Hagoth, born in January 2009.
In early 2008 Bishop and Sister Naivaluvou of the Tamavua Ward, Suva Fiji North Stake, heard that two young students from Vanuatu needed a place to board, so the Naivaluvous took stock of their own situation. Their sons, Soane, 18, and Ross, 16, were away from home attending a Church school in Tonga, the land of their father’s ancestry. The two girls from Vanuatu were boarding, at high cost to their parents, with a non-LDS family in Suva. The two girls would be good company for then 13-year-old Andrea Naivaluvou; Andrea also attends the Church College and was arriving home in the afternoon before her parents were off work. So Brother and Sister Naivaluvou decided they would invite the two girls from Vanuatu to live in their home at no charge.
The girls insisted on helping with costs, but still their expenses were less than half of what they had been paying earlier—a blessing for their families.
In April two other Vanuatuan girls came for a visit and enjoyed the atmosphere of the Naivaluvou home. A short time later these two girls asked if they too might come there to live. The Naivaluvous gladly took them in.
How did it work to have four extra young people in the home? “We’ve built up such a bond it’s more like they are our daughters,” Bishop Naivaluvou says. The Naivaluvous made it clear from the beginning that the girls were to be considered part of the family. The four girls from Vanuatu actually are related to each other, but in the Naivaluvou home they treated each other like sisters born of the same parents. Andrea Naivaluvou also came to accept them “like my sisters,” she says; the older girls watched out for her and even helped her with homework when there was a need. The four girls began to call Bishop and Sister Naivaluvou Ta and Na—“Dad” and “Mom” in Fijian.
This may be the first time, Sister Naivaluvou says, that girls from Vanuatu who are attending the Church College have been able to board with member families. The father of one of the girls, when he came to visit, expressed his deep gratitude to the Naivaluvous for the love they have shown his daughter.
Sister Naivaluvou points out that one of the girls, the daughter of a district president on Vanuatu, was a great example to their family through her faith; Bishop Naivaluvou says her example helped his family be more consistent about scripture study and family prayer.
Both of the Naivaluvous say they have been blessed temporally because they have shared with others. Their resources have gone farther. And Sister Naivaluvou believes the blessing of being able to become pregnant again after 13 years is connected with their willingness to share love with others.
When the Naivaluvous’ two sons returned home at the end of their school year in Tonga, they too accepted the young women as part of the family. But perhaps Soane can be excused for not seeing the girls exactly as sisters. He found himself drafted as a prom date for one of the young women. He played his role like a gentleman.
When the four girls finished their school year and returned home to Vanuatu late in 2008, the farewells were heart tugging, Bishop Naivaluvou recalls. It was as though he and his wife were saying good-bye to four daughters. And when a new school year began in 2009, the Naivaluvous were glad to welcome their four “daughters” back—plus two more.
With only four sleeping rooms in their home, some would wonder how they could make room for six young women in addition to their own daughter and new baby. But the Naivaluvou family quickly worked it out without difficulty.
After all, it was not a matter of personal space. It was simply a matter of expanding their circle of love.

In History of the Church, Elder B. H. Roberts quotes the following from the Newell K. Whitney family’s history:
“‘About the first of February, 1831, a sleigh containing four persons drove through the streets of Kirtland and drew up in front of the store of Gilbert and Whitney. One of the men, a young and stalwart personage alighted, and springing up the steps walked into the store and to where the junior partner was standing. “Newel K. Whitney! Thou art the man!” he exclaimed, extending his hand cordially, as if to an old and familiar acquaintance. “You have the advantage of me,” replied the merchant, as he mechanically took the proffered hand, “I could not call you by name as you have me.” “I am Joseph the Prophet,” said the stranger smiling. “You’ve prayed me here, now what do you want of me?”’ The Prophet, it is said, while in the East had seen the Whitneys in vision, praying for his coming to Kirtland. ‘Mother Whitney’ [Elizabeth Ann, wife of Newel] also tells how on a certain night prior … , while she and her husband were praying to the Lord to know how they might obtain the gift of the Holy Ghost, which of all things they desired, they saw a vision as of a cloud of glory resting upon their house, and heard a voice from heaven saying, ‘Prepare to receive the word of the Lord, for it is coming’” (History of the Church, 1:146).

Eldon was the first of eight children born to Nathan William Tanner and Sara Edna Brown Tanner, and growing up on a pioneer dry farm, he grew up fast. He learned to ride almost before he could walk, and by the age of 12 he was driving a four-horse team 7 1/2 miles to the grain elevators. There was no plumbing, electricity, or telephone. The work was hard and the winters harsh, but young Eldon thrived on it. He decided on his own that his father would never have to wake him up in the morning, even on the days when they were to start working at three or four A.M. Once in his early teens the whole family was stricken with smallpox, and he nursed them, going without sleep for three days and two nights. His father was impressed by the young man’s steadfastness and told him privately that one day he would be an Apostle. Eldon never repeated this to anyone until it had become a fact, but it filled him with joy that the best man he knew thought him worthy of that great calling.

I never knew that becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would negatively affect my relationship with family members. I joined the Church two months after getting a new job. My first day attending church was the day a friend invited me to help her with her baby as she was going to be baptized.
The moment I stepped into the chapel, I felt peace, comfort, and joy in my heart, and I knew that I belonged here and that the search for the right church had come to an end. I started reading the pamphlets from a friend and later booked appointments with the missionaries and I got baptized after a couple of weeks of learning with the missionaries.
However, because my family has been staunch Anglicans, I hid my new identity of being a member of the Church until I read a scripture in Romans 1:16, which says that “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ”. This scripture gave me a sense of direction, and I said to myself that I need not to be ashamed of the gospel if I have joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I started changing everything on my social media accounts to say that I am a member of the Church. Even though people contacted me about what they were seeing on the accounts, I proudly replied to each one that I have joined the Lord’s church and that I love it and I know that it is true.
Not long after, it was time to serve a mission. I received my call to the Ghana Cape Coast Mission. I proudly shared the news with my family, and they were happy for me, and I thought all was well with the family about my decision to serve. But a few days before mission, my family was still opposed to my decision and requested that I postpone my mission instead of leaving in December 2019, to go in 2020. It became evident that my family was unhappy with my decision to go on a mission. I knew that the God I serve lives, He knows me, and He had called me to serve Him and that the time is now or never.
I needed to make a choice between my family and my mission. I was stuck, but I prayed fervently and amidst all that was happening, I stood firm with unwavering and unshakable faith knowing that He can see me through those trying moments.
The Lord comforted me at that time, and I knew that I was not alone, and He was there for me. I felt at peace even though things had not been settled between me and my family and with less than 24 hours left, the family accepted my decision to go and serve and I was able to leave for my mission. My family has embraced my service and I am happily serving my mission with love and a cheerful heart, knowing that all things are possible with God if we look unto Him in every thought, fearing not and doubting not with faith that whatever you ask you will receive.
You either stand with God and are condemned by man or stand with man and are condemned by God. If you know the truth and you put your faith first, you can find joy in your challenges because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I know that faith can move mountains and make the impossible possible.

Wade remembers making the mistake of asking his brother for advice on what to wear the first day of junior high. “If you really want to make an impression,” his brother told him, “wear a suit and tie.” Wade believed him, donned the suggested attire, and set out for school. When he realized his mistake, he wanted to go home and kick his brother.
Even with such an embarrassing start, Wade managed to have a decent year. He realized that what you wear is not half as important to other people as it is to you. Most people hardly notice.

President Kimball’s wife, Camilla, has devotedly and lovingly followed her husband every step of the way. I remember one night in Samoa when both President and Sister Kimball had temperatures of 104 degrees. Early the next morning they were the first ones on the bus. He conducted the meetings, and they fulfilled all their busy schedule throughout the day, not just enduring, but being gracious and considerate and thinking of the needs of everyone else around them.

Mike woke to the bark of Clancy, his collie. Leaving dreams of county fairs and blue ribbons behind, he dressed quickly and clattered downstairs for a pre-breakfast look at his magnificent melon. Almost as large as a volleyball, it rose from the leaves of its vine like the moon above clouds—a prize-winner for sure. Loosening the dirt around the stem, Mike thought back to the day in spring when he’d found the tiny seedling growing by the corral.
“It looks like a cantaloupe,” Dad had said. “Don’t expect much from it though. It’s a volunteer.”
Mike was on his hands and knees, studying the new plant. “Volunteer?”
“Volunteers aren’t planted,” Dad explained. “A seed just happens to fall somewhere, then sends down shallow roots that don’t permit much growth.”
“This one is going to grow,” Mike insisted. “I’m going to make sure it does!”
Dad smiled. “Go for it, Son. Work the dirt up around it and keep it watered. Who knows what might happen.”
Mike had followed his father’s advice, and the little seedling grew into a healthy vine. One day as he was spading around his plant, Dad put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve really stuck with this,” he said. “I think you’re ready for something even bigger. When Gertrude has her calf, it’s yours to raise.”
Mike gave a whoop and punched the air. The best of their four milk cows, Gertrude was to give birth any day.
One night Mike was awakened by Clancy’s excited barking. He was about to get up to see what was happening, when Mom came in. “The vet’s here,” she said. “Gertrude had her calf, and everything’s fine. Go back to sleep and see it in the morning.”
Certain that he wouldn’t sleep a wink, Mike dutifully closed his eyes. When he opened them again, sunlight filled the room, and Clancy was issuing his good-morning bark. For the first time in days, Mike didn’t head straight to his cantaloupe plant. Instead, he ran to the barn.
“He’s beautiful!” Mike exclaimed. “I’m going to name him Melon, because he’ll be an award winner too. Look! He’s standing up already.”
“These little guys stand almost as soon as they’re born, Mike. Before long, he’ll be frisking all about his ma.” Dad frowned. “That reminds me—there are a couple of boards loose in the corral fence by the barn. You’d better nail them down right away. We don’t want this young ‘un getting out and rambling all over the property.”
Mike made a mental note to do it—right after he checked his melon plant. But he was so pleased with the blossoms he found blooming from the vine that he forgot all about the corral fence. Over the next few days, he noticed that some of the blossoms grew from small green knobs—cantaloupes! Following Dad’s instructions, he carefully chose the most likely one and nipped off all the others so that the plant’s strength would all go into one prize-winning melon. As the summer days passed, he “babied” his melon, and it grew splendidly.
His calf grew too. Soon it was eating hay as well as suckling its mother. “I’m going to have two blue-ribbon winners,” Mike told Dad when he went to breakfast, “a melon and Melon.”
A couple of mornings later, he was again awakened by Clancy’s barking. But this time Clancy sounded frantic. Something was wrong! Racing downstairs, Mike found the dog trying to herd a confused calf back into the corral. A few yards to the left, where the melon plant should have been, was nothing but chewed and tattered leaves and bits of broken and trampled cantaloupe. As Mike stared at the mess, a great rage filled him. He snatched up a piece of the melon rind and cocked his arm. “All right!” he shrilled. “You want cantaloupe, I’ll give you cantaloupe!” Before he could hurl the piece of rind at the bewildered calf, a hand gripped his wrist from behind.
“There’s no need for a tantrum.” Dad’s voice was calm.
“But that stupid calf ruined my plant!” Mike’s anger had him nearly in tears. “I worked on it all summer, and just look at it!”
“How did Melon get out of the corral, Mike?”
Mike eyed the loose boards—the ones he had promised to fix so long ago. …
Dad let the silence grow long, then asked, “Did you do your job?”
Mike scuffed his toe on the ground. “I meant to,” he said in a small voice. “I guess I just kind of forgot.”
Dad put an arm around his son’s shoulder. “Mike, you worked hard with that melon. Your mother and I are proud of what you did. If it hadn’t been for a nosy calf and an unfinished job, you might have had a prizewinner.”
“And now I have nothing.”
“You have a fine calf with a good appetite. And if you’ve learned from your mistake, you have something even better—a bit of wisdom. Sometimes disaster is opportunity disguised.”
Mike’s gaze strayed from the ruined plant to Clancy and Melon and then to the loose boards on the corral. Finally he looked up. “Dad,” he said, “this was a blue-ribbon disaster for sure. But it’s a blue-ribbon lesson, too, and I won’t forget it. I’m going to take such good care of Melon that he’ll be a prize-winning calf! Come on, Clancy, let’s get him back in the corral and nail up those boards. This is one Melon that’s going to the fair.”

A convert to the Church, I grew up in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Although my parents were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I look back with gratitude upon how they have influenced my life. My mother was born with a congenital heart defect and was told that having children would endanger her life. She waited eight years to have me; I am the only child in the family. Mother was a loving and compassionate person. She always spoke good of everyone and ingrained that teaching in me. In spite of health complications, she lived life to the fullest before she passed away at age fifty.

Jonathon grumbled as he climbed into the car next to his brother, Mike. He wanted to stay home and play the new game he had been given for his birthday last week. But his mother insisted they all go to the meetinghouse and help with the ward’s cleanup day.
“Why do we have to go?” Jonathon had asked his mother as he helped her load their vacuum into the car.
“It will be fun,” she said, smiling. “Besides, all of us use the meetinghouse. It’s only right that we help clean it from time to time.”
Jonathon stared out the window and watched the houses and trees pass by as they drove to the church. As his mother pulled the car into the church’s parking lot, Jonathon was surprised to see Brother Lawson park his car next to theirs.
“What is Brother Lawson doing here?” Jonathon wondered.
Brother Lawson had been very sick lately with a type of cancer called leukemia. He had been in the hospital for a long time. Jonathon remembered his parents encouraging Mike and him to pray for Brother Lawson during their personal and family prayers. Brother Lawson hadn’t been home from the hospital for very long.
Jonathon had always liked Brother Lawson. He was older than Jonathon’s grandfathers, but he went out of his way to talk to Jonathon and ask him about school and his sports team. One time he even came to one of Jonathon’s games.
As Jonathon climbed out of the car, Brother Lawson waved and said, “Hi, Jonathon.” Brother Lawson walked around to the back of his car and took a vacuum out of the trunk. Walking slowly, he pushed the vacuum into the church.
“Jonathon,” his mother called, “can you give me a hand with this?” She was struggling to pull their vacuum from the back of the car.
“Sure, Mom,” Jonathon said. He helped her pull the vacuum out and quickly pushed it across the parking lot.
All that evening Jonathon and Mike worked beside Brother Lawson. Several times Jonathon became tired and stopped to rest, but he noticed that Brother Lawson continued to work. And he was smiling! “It’s nice to be able to help, isn’t it?” Brother Lawson asked.
Jonathon felt something change inside him. “If Brother Lawson can be happy while he’s helping, so can I,” he thought. He started working even harder.
“Thank you for coming with me,” his mother said later as they were heading home.
“You’re welcome,” Jonathon said. “I’m sorry I complained about coming. I didn’t know you could learn so much from vacuuming.”

“I can’t play with you tomorrow,” David told his best friend Kevin.
“Why not?” Kevin asked.
“Tomorrow Daddy will be home from the store and Brian and Carol will be home from school and we’re all going to clean up the yard,” David explained.
“All day?” Kevin asked.
“I guess so. There’s a lot of work to do. We’re going to rake leaves, pull weeds, trim shrubs, and paint things. We’re going to have fun!” said David excitedly.
“Fun!” Kevin said, wrinkling up his nose. “It sounds like work to me!”
“It’s not work!” David disagreed.
“It is so!” Kevin declared. “Raking and cleaning and painting are all work! That’s what my daddy says! You just ask your dad. Work isn’t fun! It’s hard!”
That night when Daddy came into David’s room to say good night, David asked, “Daddy, are painting and cleaning and raking work?”
“They certainly are!” Daddy answered. “And there’s a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
“Is it hard work?” David asked.
“Yes,” Daddy said. “So you get a good night’s sleep and you’ll be ready to help us in the morning.”
“All right,” David said slowly.
Before he went to sleep he thought about what Kevin and Daddy had told him. By the next morning he had decided he was not going to work. He wasn’t going to spend a whole day not having any fun.
At breakfast everyone was dressed in working clothes. David took a long time eating his cereal and drinking his juice.
“Come on, David!” Carol said.
“What a slowpoke!” said Brian.
“I don’t feel very well,” David said. The more he thought about not feeling well, the more he imagined his head hurt. “I have a headache,” he told them.
Mother felt his head. “You don’t seem to be hot,” she said, “but perhaps you should lie down on the couch until you feel better.”
David lay on the couch in the living room while everyone else went outdoors. He closed his eyes, but he was not sleepy. Soon Carol and Brian and Mother and Daddy were making too much noise outside for him to rest. They were calling to each other and making jokes and laughing and talking as they worked.
After a while he heard someone else laughing and talking. Quickly he got up and looked out the window.
It was Kevin! He was helping Brian carry a basket of leaves.
David forgot his headache and rushed out to the backyard.
“Kevin!” he cried. “What are you doing?”
“I’m having fun!” Kevin called.
“But this is work, and you said work isn’t fun!”
Kevin stopped. He thought for a moment. Then he smiled and said, “Working together is fun!”
David smiled, too. “That’s right,” he agreed. “Working together is fun!” And he picked up a rake and began to rake a big pile of leaves.

When Brigham Young looked into the faces of the St. George settlers, he knew they had been pushed almost beyond endurance. The great storm had left them discouraged. The rivers seemed impossible to harness, and dams and canals had washed out time and time again. In turn, crops had failed. Desert malaria sapped the strength from many. And then there was the intense heat, with inadequate shade or shelters to provide relief. The settlers were worn and despondent. Hope was failing. Then Brigham Young did something incredible! He requested that these same people commence building a magnificent tabernacle.
Miles Romney pored carefully over the building plans. For an architect to design a fine structure and then build it with only a small outlay of cash and a minimum of skilled labor was going to be a challenge. But the “Dixie” settlers were willing, and that gave him heart. Of course local materials must be used whenever possible. That meant red sandstone and plenty of it. The necessary lumber needed to be hauled by wagon trains from Pine Valley some distance away. Since there were no local sawmills, the trusses that would span the width of the building were to be hewn by hand with broad axes.
The graceful, free-standing circular staircases would enrich the interior, and on these he would use his own woodworking skills. He hoped to contribute to a setting where the dedicated southern Utah settlers could worship their Lord.
Under the direction of my great-great-great-grandfather Miles Romney, the St. George Tabernacle was built! It stood like a jewel in the desert.
The building project provided support for many of the struggling pioneer men and their families. They were paid, not with cash, but with eggs, butter, corn, chickens, etc., commodities that were more important to a people whose very necessities had been waning. While working on their tabernacle, they learned skills and trades that they would later use to build their desert community.
The St. George Tabernacle stands today as a monument to the courage, endurance, and faith of the committed southern Utah pioneers.

I have been remarkably blessed by the moral influence of women, in particular my mother and my wife. Among other women that I look to in gratitude is Anna Daines. Anna and her husband, Henry, and their four children were among the pioneers of the Church in New Jersey, in the United States. Beginning in the 1930s, when Henry was a doctoral student at Rutgers University, he and Anna worked tirelessly with school and civic organizations in Metuchen, where they lived, to overcome deeply rooted prejudice against Mormons and to make the community a better place for all parents to raise their children.

Anna, for example, volunteered at the Metuchen YMCA and made herself indispensable. Within a year she was appointed president of the Mothers’ Auxiliary and then “was asked to run for one of the three women’s positions on the YMCA board of directors. She won without opposition, and so joined the very council that only a few years before had refused to let the Saints meet in their building!”2

On that November day in 1972 when I got on the bus to go to school, I had no idea this day was going to be one of the most important in my life.
I was 13 and an ordinary student. I mainly tried to have a good time at school, and I had many friends who were like I was. Óscar Italia was not like the other boys. He really did study and, as a result, was on the honor roll. But I didn’t know him well. He was a quiet fellow.
When I entered the classroom that day, he was wearing a button on his lapel that read, “I Care. What about You?” At that time the Church in our area had a program to help members share the gospel. They wore this button so when people asked about it, they could explain about family home evening and the family.
I asked Óscar, “What’s that?” He explained that he had been baptized three months before and was the only Latter-day Saint in his family.
During the breaks that day he noticed my interest and explained the plan of salvation, and he gave me a copy of the Book of Mormon. He read me the promise in Moroni 10:3–5 and told me that if I prayed, I would feel a burning in my heart that would confirm to me that the Book of Mormon was true. Óscar was a great member missionary, and I believed him.
The next morning, while my mother was doing her shopping at the neighborhood market, I decided to read the Book of Mormon. When I was almost finished with the first page, I had a desire to pray. I went to my room and knelt beside my bed. I had never prayed before, but I remembered I had to ask God in the name of Christ. I asked if the Book of Mormon was true, and I asked God to tell me if He existed. I expected to feel what my classmate had testified I would feel. After some minutes I heard my mother coming home and was afraid she would find me praying, so I stood up and got ready for school.
As I rode to school a real battle of ideas was going on in my head. “Is it true or not? Nothing happened,” I thought. I had a lot of doubts.
I can’t explain why, but no sooner had I stepped from the bus onto the sidewalk at school than the doubts disappeared, and I knew it was true. It was extremely simple.
Óscar came up to speak with me at the classroom door. I said, “I will be a member of your church.” He couldn’t believe it. A friend of mine was listening, and he told my other friends what was happening. Soon they were all around me, asking me why I was going to change religions. They told me I was crazy. I couldn’t answer their questions and started to cry. They finally went away, and I was left alone with Óscar. Suddenly I had an overwhelming feeling of joy. I had never felt anything like it before. It was the burning my friend had said I would feel, and it came as a confirmation of the decision I had made.
The next day Óscar brought me a button, and we wore them proudly.

One Sunday morning when I was only five years old, I was playing with a neighbor’s cat. Eventually the cat got tired of playing with me and ran into a nearby cornfield. I wasn’t tired of playing with the cat, however, so I followed him into the field.
The corn was very high, and when I couldn’t find the animal, I decided to go home. It didn’t take long to discover I didn’t know where I was, and I had no idea where home was. I was lost in the large cornfield.
As I wandered around, the corn seemed to get taller and taller until it reached the sky. I was disoriented and felt more and more frightened. I began to run, yelling for help, but the wind drowned out my cries. I got very hot and sweaty, and the corn plants scratched my skin. I didn’t know what to do.
As I was rushing through the cornfield, I remembered a lesson my Primary teacher had taught only a few weeks earlier. “If you’re ever frightened,” she had said, “or if you’re ever lost, get down on your knees and pray.”
Then I remembered my parents telling me the same thing as we knelt in daily family prayer. “Heavenly Father cares about you,” my mother and father had taught me. “He will always hear your prayers. He will take care of you.”
As soon as I remembered the words my parents and my Primary teacher had spoken, I dropped down on my knees. I don’t remember exactly what I said, but I know I shared my thoughts and fears with the Lord.
After my prayer, I felt very peaceful. My parents and my Primary teacher had told me Heavenly Father would hear my prayers, so I knew help was on the way. I was tired from running around so much, so I decided to rest until someone came. I promptly lay down and fell asleep.
It wasn’t long before my mother realized I was no longer in our yard. She had seen me playing with the cat, so she guessed I had followed it somewhere. She began searching for me. A block from our home, she saw the cat near a large irrigation canal and feared the worst. She thought I had fallen in and drowned.
She ran home and sent my older sister to the nearby Church building, where my father and other priesthood holders were gathered for a meeting. Mother then fell to her knees and immediately began praying to Heavenly Father, asking Him to protect me. She promised that if I was found safe, she would do all she could to make sure I was raised in righteousness.
After pouring her heart out to the Lord, Mother stood up. As she did, she thought of the neighboring cornfield. She ran outside to begin searching there. Some of the men from the meetinghouse met her, and she told them she thought I might be lost somewhere inside the field of corn.
Some men searched along the irrigation canal while others began searching through the tall stalks of corn. One of them, Bud Phillips, found me quietly sleeping. He picked me up and carried me to Mother, who was weeping. I remember wondering why everyone was making such a fuss. After all, I had prayed and I knew everything would be fine.
My prayers and my mother’s were answered, and she always did all she could to see that I was raised in righteousness.