Gospel Story Finder

Being meek means “enduring injury with patience and without resentment,”4 something that takes both strength and humility. In 1838, Thomas B. Marsh, the first President of the Quorum of the Twelve, left the Church, in part because of his resentment that Church leaders didn’t side with his wife in a dispute over milk. In his later years, he lamented the blessings he had lost and returned to the Church, saying: “I have frequently wanted to know how my apostacy [sic] began, and I have come to the conclusion that I must have lost the Spirit of the Lord out of my heart. … “… I felt angry and wrathful; and the Spirit of the Lord being gone, as the Scriptures say, I was blinded.”5

“I was only able to attend one of the workshops,” said Donn Mason, “but it was great. It was Randy Bachman’s presentation on standards. He was more than what I expected. He’s a member of a popular singing group, you know, and when he came to the conference, I met him at the door and introduced myself. I asked him if he was ready and if there was anything we could help him with, and he said, ‘No, I just want a place where I can be alone to meditate and pray and get the direction I need for this workshop.’ Somehow I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, it was a real topper!”

“I attended Randy Bachman’s workshop too,” added Dwight Schmidt, a member of the central committee who had been inactive just seven months before. “The thing that really impressed me about him was that he is so spiritual. He talked about his career and some of the problems he’s had. He has had to go through a lot. The sacrifices that he has made for the gospel really taught me that if he can do it, I can do it.”

The third example is Linda Petersen of the Unity First Ward in Burley, Idaho, who was the originator for Brighter Beginnings, a mentor program that helps the community reach out to about 40 unmarried mothers each year. “What alarmed us is that a third of the babies born in these two counties are born to young women who haven’t even graduated from high school,” said Sister Petersen, a member of the Mini–Cassia Child Protection Team, a volunteer organization operating in Minidoka and Cassia Counties, Idaho. She has often helped teach the importance of sexual abstinence, but unfortunately abstinence isn’t always the choice young people make, nor is placing the baby for adoption, “so we felt we needed to help those young women who decided to keep and raise their children.” It is important, she says, to give each young mother greater self-worth and the opportunity to learn good parenting skills in order to “make it the brightest future we can for her and that baby.”

A few months after Sister Petersen shared her idea for the program with others on the child protection team, they had lined up a registered nurse and many volunteer mentor moms to help give Brighter Beginnings its start. The group seeks to help young mothers graduate from high school and learn how to care for their children in a nurturing environment. Each mentor mom goes into a young woman’s home once a month to teach parenting and safety skills and also makes herself available to answer the young woman’s questions. It is hoped that the experienced mothers can be role models and “sounding boards” for the young women, Sister Petersen says. A registered nurse will visit and check on the baby’s health at two and four months of age.

More than nurses and mentors are involved. Volunteers help in other ways. Laurel and Eagle Scout projects provide some quilts and wooden toys for the children. Once a month, senior citizens help babysit while young mothers get together at the local senior citizens’ center to talk and receive instruction in such things as nutrition and safety. One of Sister Petersen’s favorite memories is of an older gentleman tenderly cradling a little baby for an hour as the class went on. Brighter Beginnings is funded by a government grant under the title “Building Stronger Families,” but it is the mentor moms and other volunteers who give it life, Sister Petersen says. Without them, no amount of money could make the program work.

My favorite experience with fasting involves a sweet elderly woman I home teach. She once had a stroke and ended up in the hospital. The doctors didn’t expect her to make a recovery and told us we should say our goodbyes.
We asked the ward to fast for her. I had already been fasting for her health and that I could accept God’s plan for her. Afterward, she made a miraculous recovery. It was a really special experience for me and strengthened my testimony a lot.
Michael D., 18, Minnesota, USA

That had been a painful experience. But I got a grasp on myself, thought over what my father had said, and decided that one thing he had said was right. Religion should not be just a two-day spree, but a life-long adventure! I began attending seminary and studying the Old Testament in earnest. Fun lessons helped me gain insight into a subject new to me, and my knowledge of the gospel became fuller. However, I could not buy the home study manuals because that year was also the year for high school entrance exams, and my parents wanted me to spend time on school work, not religious homework.
I was overjoyed when the students in the class gave the manuals to me as a present! What could I give them in return? The best thing was to study those manuals hard. Even though my progress was slower than others, I was able to finish the manuals and turn them in to the teacher.

Lizzie, give it back! I’m playing with it!
No!
Girls, please stop fighting. Lizzie, you need to go to your room. Alice, I’d like to talk to you.
It’s not fair, Dad! I was playing with my unicorn, and Lizzie grabbed it. She always ruins things.
It’s tough to be a big sister. Do you know what helps me when I get mad?
What, Dad?
A scripture in the Bible. It says, “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” This means that if you speak kindly and softly, angry people will feel calmer. If you speak rudely or shout at them, they will just get angrier.
Do you think that will work with Lizzie?
Next time, just try it and see what happens.
I want the fairy wings!
Alice remembered what Dad had told her.
Lizzie, would you like to wear my crown? You can be a princess, and I’ll be your fairy friend.
OK, I’ll be a beautiful princess!
Come on, your highness. Let’s play!

The Bread Cast Upon Waters Reverberation Pattern
There is more. (There always is.) The test of a divine pattern is this: An act of divine intervention, when acknowledged as such and testified of, will, like the proverbial bread cast upon the waters, come back after many days to testify, bless, and re-bless, for it witnesses an eternally re-greening and re-blossoming truth. It is a pattern. So Christ becomes alive in us as we bear witness, in any age. So this little contact lens story has reverberated in at least two ways and surprised me both times.

Reverberation One
On the Sunday after the event, I told the contact lens experience to the members of the Wettingen Branch, over which I presided. The Saints, who had witnessed my visual difficulties up close and shared my joy in my newfound vision, reverberated with the larger meanings of the incident and apparently told it to others. In 1986, 28 years later, I returned to Switzerland as mission president. As President Peter Lauener introduced Janice and me to the Bern stake conference, he surprised us: “We all have known about President Cracroft for many years,” he said. “He it is, brothers and sisters, who as a young missionary here in Switzerland exercised faith and found his lost contact lens.” Many in the congregation nodded in recognition.

I was dumbfounded. He turned to me and said for all to hear, “Over many years, that story has been told and retold in all our meetings as an illustration of the necessary steps to faith.” Suddenly I understood that young Elder Cracroft had unwittingly cast his burden on the Lord by taking an inspired and faith-impelled step into the dark. I wondered if President Cracroft, at 50, still possessed that same simple faith.

Reverberation Two
In January 1994, on the day after our 25-year-old daughter and bride of one short year died suddenly, naturally, and without warning—and my wife and I were plunged into the belly of the whale—I received a letter from a former Swiss-Austrian missionary living in Salt Lake City. He knew nothing of our sorrow, of course. He said he had recently read my name on an article and was writing to inquire if I was the same Elder Cracroft he had known briefly in 1958, at the beginning of his mission and near the end of mine. He said he had been deeply impressed by a story I had told at a missionary conference about losing and recovering a contact lens. He had related the incident often over the years and hoped he had told it accurately. He then repeated the story as he recalled it. Although I had not told it in a long time, I was amazed that he had captured it exactly as I recollected it and as I just told it.

The reverberation resounded in my ears. In his letter I read my own story in tears of joy amidst my tears of grief. His retelling us that story 36 years later, at the darkest moment of our lives, was no coincidence. Janice and I had received a message from the Lord reminding us that he was there with us at the fall of our dear sparrow, just as he had been there with me on that long-ago hillside. He was reminding us that this was merely another obstacle on our salvation journey; that all things, including our daughter and ourselves, were in his hands; and that we should press on, confident that, as Lehi says, “All things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things” (2 Nephi 2:24). Who knows, perhaps this twice-told tale may take on new life in the soul of someone in this congregation who needs to hear that message.

The missionaries taught her about the Book of Mormon. Anna-Liisa Rinne believed. In fact, she says, “I believed in such a childlike way that the next day I asked my colleagues at work whether they had heard that the origin of the American Indians had been discovered.” When she told them about the Book of Mormon, they all laughed at her. “For the first time I noticed that something exceptional was happening to me,” she recalls.

The gospel message seemed familiar to her, and she continued to receive the missionaries when she moved from Helsinki to Kuopio. But when the missionaries told her that they intended to baptize her, she asked them to stop coming. “I was afraid of people’s opinions,” she explains. “In my professional friendships, belonging to a religious group was not considered acceptable. I didn’t want to be different.”

But the matter kept bothering her until she finally went to a Church meeting. Soon the missionaries were coming again. “When I stopped drinking coffee, I received a testimony. I knew that the Church was true, and I had to join it.”

Three of her four children joined the Church with her, and all of them are still active Latter-day Saints. “When I was first being taught, the children would laugh behind the door. After I received my own testimony of the gospel, I got them to promise that they would listen to one discussion. I told the missionaries that they had better be good, because the children had promised to listen just this once. The elders prepared a very fine flannel-board presentation, after which the children promised that they would also join the Church. It is true, though, that the youngest son, Eikki, later said the reason he joined the Church was that his mother told him to,” Sister Rinne says, laughing.

Sister Rinne’s daughter, Kaarina Merenluoto, remembers that joining the Church changed their family life greatly. “Mother seemed much closer to us; we talked together more. She even looked quite a bit younger. Guests began to visit us, whereas before we had lived a fairly isolated life. Often the whole branch would meet at our place, as we had a large apartment, and we made many friends. Arguments between us brothers and sisters decreased. It is difficult to explain just what happened, but the whole atmosphere in the home changed.”

In the Kuopio Branch, Anna-Liisa Rinne soon became a central figure. She was Relief Society president while the branch was building a chapel, and she also served as interpreter and messenger for the construction supervisor. “At that time, I was the only one in the branch with a driver’s license,” she explains. “Therefore I had to take care of business with the hardware supplier. At the same time, I had to oversee the delivery of lunches to the construction workers.” For a while, the hospital’s pediatrician was “on call” at the church construction site.

Sister Anna-Kaarina Roto, a former member of the Kuopio Branch, now a doctor herself, remembers those times. “As the chapel was being built, she did all kinds of work and climbed the highest scaffolds. Later, after the chapel was completed, members took turns cleaning it. Seeing how conscientiously Sister Rinne swept the floors when it was her turn, no one dared to complain about his own turn.”

As a Young Women leader for years, Anna-Liisa Rinne had an enduring influence on the lives of many girls. One of those young women, Raili Jouttenus, now the wife of the bishop of the Tampere Ward, remembers, “Sister Rinne was a legendary teacher. I remember many of her talks and teachings vividly, even now after twenty years. She really cared about us young people. The doors to her house were always open, and she had time to listen to our questions, which were sometimes rather silly. In dealing with youth, she followed Joseph Smith’s concept: teach them correct principles, and they govern themselves. She never forced us into doing anything, but rather she was warm and encouraging. She showed that she believed in the youth, but she never compromised her correct principles. If something was wrong, she said so clearly.”

Sister Rinne also remembers her work with the Young Women fondly. “Many of the youth were the only members of the Church in their families and schools, and they had a very strong faith and testimony. We started to organize youth temple excursions in Kuopio, and the spiritual experiences we had on those trips were the best rewards of those years.”

Missionary work has been an important part of Sister Rinne’s life in many ways, although she did not at first expect that it would be. “When I returned home from the baptismal service, I thought, ‘Well, I have done the right thing in joining this church, but I will never tell anyone.’ But when we arrived home, Heikki changed his clothes and ran to tell all the neighbors that we were Mormons now,” Sister Rinne remembers, smiling.

Sister Rinne received her first missionary assignments after she moved to Jyväskylä, where she served twice as a district missionary. “In those days there were so many baptisms in Jyväskylä you could hear the roar of the water,” she recalls. “The Lord just sent us the people who were ready to hear the gospel.”

One of Anna-Liisa Rinne’s companions as a district missionary was Sister Kerttu Harinen, who has many good memories of that time. “Sister Rinne was my first companion in missionary work. I myself was still a little timid. I grew at her side and received courage enough to serve as a district missionary for many years afterwards. Our first investigator was baptized before we had been companions one month. We had asked that we could practice our missionary discussions with a family whose father did not belong to the Church. So it happened that as the result of our ‘practice’ the father of the family was baptized.”

In 1974, Anna-Liisa Rinne retired from her work as a doctor. In January 1975, she left for an eighteen-month health mission to Samoa. “Up to that point in life I had imagined that I was something of an important person. But a missionary is on one of the lowest steps in society, something like a private in the army,” she explains. Finding her own sense of worth was an important lesson of that experience.

Even before leaving Samoa, Sister Rinne received a new mission call to Tonga. An important experience there was getting to know her mission president, Tonga Toutai Paletu‘a, now president of the temple. “He was a man who performed one or two miracles every day. His absolute faith and positive attitude were a great example to everyone,” Anna-Liisa Rinne recalls.

During her time as a missionary in the Pacific area, Sister Rinne experienced many miraculous testimonies of the nearness of Heavenly Father. When she arrived in Tonga, hardly knowing the language at all, she was sent to speak in a certain village. In her pocket she had a ten-minute talk written on paper. But when she arrived, she learned that she was to be the only speaker for an hour-long meeting. “I was horrified in the face of this assignment. As I was sitting there afraid, I heard clearly the words: ‘But I am here.’ All fear vanished, and I spoke for the whole hour.”

In 1978, Anna-Liisa Rinne returned home to Finland, only to receive another mission call. In 1979 she left for Scotland as a proselyting missionary. “I had only young companions, and I was their trainer. We had a rule that the senior companion had to prepare breakfast until the junior companion learned the discussions. I always made Finnish oatmeal for breakfast, so these American girls learned the discussions very fast,” says Sister Rinne, laughing. For health reasons, she had to interrupt the mission after eleven months, but this did not mean a slowdown in her activity—just the opposite.

After twice serving as a volunteer temple worker in the Swiss Temple, she received a 1982 call to a temple mission. “It was valuable to me to work with older people who have had a long experience in life and to try every day to be pure in heart.” Then she was called as a counselor to the temple matron. “After completing my mission I still went back to work in the temple, and I would probably have stayed who knows how long, except that it was difficult to take care of my health there,” Sister Rinne says.

After returning from Switzerland to Finland, Anna-Liisa Rinne became involved with an assignment she had received even before she was called to temple work, writing a history of the Church in Finland. But before the work was finished a call came again—this time to the Stockholm Temple.

If Anna-Liisa Rinne’s work career has been exceptionally varied and broad, her hobbies have not quite been ordinary either. This grandmother of sixteen likes surfing, and last summer she taught almost all her grandchildren to surf. She also owns a small sailboat, and has passed a coast-guard class which finally resulted in an international sailing permit. A diving class and pistol shooting are still in her plans.

Looking back over her life to this point, Sister Rinne says, “I have continually sought my own identity in all phases of my life: who and what am I?” It is the gospel that has provided the answers to Sister Rinne’s quest. “In some ways, I have been a very lonely person, but this has forced me to seek Christ for protection. I have had to depend on him many times, and I have always received help from him,” she says.

In return, Anna-Liisa Rinne has been ready to serve wherever the Lord has needed her. And in so doing, she has verified Christ’s words: “He that loseth his life for my sake shall find it.”

In a refugee camp in Bataan, Philippines, I watched as one of our lovely lady missionaries sat down on the dirty floor beside an old woman who was weeping and confused and afraid. She gently pulled this woman’s head over onto her shoulder and smoothed her hair with one hand as she put her other arm around her to comfort her.
I learned that this woman had been driven from her home. Some of her family members had been killed. She had been abused and driven through the forests and jungles and finally out of her own country. She could not even speak the language of her present benefactors.
Later, as we talked of the work she was doing, the lady missionary said, with tears running down her face, “This is the finest thing I have ever done.” Many things are only interesting and enticing, while other things are important.

6 In May, Sidney Rigdon, Newel K. Whitney, and the Prophet Joseph started back to Kirtland, Ohio. Near New Albany, Indiana, the horses pulling their wagon became frightened and bolted.
7 Joseph jumped out of the wagon unhurt, but Bishop Whitney caught his foot in a wheel and broke his leg and foot in several places.
8 Sidney Rigdon went on to Kirtland, but the Prophet stayed with Bishop Whitney for four weeks while he recuperated.
9 One day during that time, Joseph Smith ate something poisonous. When Bishop Whitney gave him a blessing of health, the Prophet was instantly healed. Soon they, too, continued on to Kirtland.

We take an oath to be friendly, kind, and courteous. At a national jamboree a 12-year-old Scout got separated from his patrol. He was standing alone in a sea of Scouts and about to break into tears. An older Scout saw him and went over and introduced himself. “I have a gift for you,” the older boy said. “It is a hand-carved bolo tie. A great Scouter, Bill Burch, carved it. He numbers each one. He has carved over 40,000.”
The older Scout presented the tie to the young scared Scout. About that time the patrol found the boy. They gathered around him, and for a few moments he was the center of attention with his new bolo tie. The tears had disappeared; he felt important. The older Scout had truly been friendly.

Religion was an important part of our lives in Nigeria. My husband, Okoro, and I had great faith in Jesus Christ and loved Him. After we moved to Sweden, all our time was consumed when our twins were born three months early. We lived for four months in the hospital and didn’t go to any church at that time.

Later, we wanted to go to church again, but we did not find a church that felt right for us. We wanted a church that our whole family could attend for all our lives and forever. This desire continued for two years, but we were bothered that we had gotten out of the habit of going to church and praying together as a family.

When the children were a year old, I was out during a terrible snowstorm so I could attend school and learn Swedish. I heard someone call out from behind me. When I looked back, I saw two beautiful young women. I didn’t understand what they were saying, but I did recognize the words “Jesus Christ.”

When they realized I did not speak Swedish, they asked, “Do you speak English?” When I told them I did, they said, “We want to talk to you about Jesus Christ.”

“What about Him?” I asked. “I know Him!”

They laughed and were so excited that they walked up to me. I was impressed and eager to know what they had to say. They said they were missionaries of Jesus Christ, and I agreed to meet with them again and talk more about Jesus. As I left, I felt happy. When I looked back at them, they were just standing there radiating the same joy I was feeling.

When she found the Church, Sister Okoro-Omaka “shed beautiful tears because I was so happy to be coming back to my Savior.”
When I came home from school, I said to my husband, “Sweetheart, guess what. I have found the church where we are going to be members!” I was shivering, I was so excited. I did not know where all these feelings were coming from, but I was happy deep in my heart about meeting the missionaries.

Soon we began learning about the restored Church of Jesus Christ with the missionaries. I shed beautiful tears because I was so happy to be coming back to my Savior. I had no questions about what they taught us until we came to the Book of Mormon. I had a hard time believing anything about it. The missionaries, however, asked me to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it. I prayed sincerely every day for weeks to know if it was really the word of God, but I never read it.

After several weeks without an answer from God, I boarded a train for a trip to Stockholm. On the way, I pulled out the Book of Mormon and began to read.

I read the introduction and the Testimony of Three Witnesses and Eight Witnesses, and I read about Joseph Smith. I was reading it and reading it and reading it. By the time I got to Stockholm, I was crying, shivering, and covered with goosebumps. I felt overwhelmed with the Spirit of God. I knew from personal revelation who Joseph Smith truly was—that he was a prophet and a servant of God. I knew that the Lord had restored the gospel of Jesus Christ to the earth through him.

I then believed all that the missionaries had told me. Once I had read the Book of Mormon for myself, I knew it was true. I told the missionaries I wanted to be baptized. My husband brought our whole family to show their support for me.

After my baptism, we started praying together again as a family, and I began teaching them about what I was learning. Eventually, Okoro asked to meet with the missionaries again. He embraced their teachings, read the Book of Mormon, and prayed about it. He received the same answer I had, and he also asked to be baptized. At last, our whole family was united in our forever Church.

For Brother and Sister Okoro-Omaka, reading the Book of Mormon was key to their conversion.

Gaining a testimony and being baptized were among the highlights in the life of Kriangkrai Pitakpong. Other highlights include his marriage to Mukdahan, whom he introduced to the Church; his callings as president of the Khon Kaen Branch and then as president of the Khon Kaen District; and a 1990 airplane flight with his family and other Thai Saints to the Manila Philippines Temple.
“When we flew to Manila, it was a milestone in the history of the Church in Thailand. There were about two hundred of us. We were all very excited,” he remembers. “It was a trip we had planned for a long time. It was very expensive, approximately $350 per person. Everyone worked hard to raise the money to go. Even our ten-year-old daughter, Kesarin, made some money selling charcoal for cooking. It was a special time for us.”

The Davis County Sheriff’s Department received 100 teddy bears. Captain Simpson said it is policy now for a paramedic or a sheriff on a call to give any child involved under the age of ten a bear. However, young children have not been the only recipients. The paramedics gave a bear to an 80-year-old woman who suffered a stroke. “It was the only thing that calmed her down,” said Captain Simpson. “She wouldn’t let go of the bear.”

Andrea looked out the window into the late-winter afternoon. It had stopped snowing, leaving another inch of white powdery stuff dusting the sidewalks and driveway. She knew that it was cold—it had been all week. Her homework was finally finished, and she reached for her new library book.
“Andrea,” her mother called, “Would you please sweep the snow off the driveway and sidewalks before it gets dark? I have to get dinner ready, or Daddy won’t have time to eat before he has to leave again for his meetings at the church. He’ll be home in a little over an hour.”
Andrea sighed as she set the book on her nightstand. She’d been looking forward to reading it all day, and it seemed like she’d only just warmed up from walking home from the bus stop. It didn’t seem fair that she was always cleaning off the walks, but she knew how tired Mom was with the new baby, and how busy Dad was since he had been called to be a counselor in the bishopric.
“I’m coming,” she called as she pulled on her snowsuit and boots. She found a dry hat and gloves and went out through the garage, picking up the old broom her mom kept there.
At least it didn’t snow as much today as it did yesterday, she thought, remembering how long it had taken her to shovel the eight inches of heavy, wet snow off the driveway the day before. Her fingers had felt like ice cubes by the time she was finished.
It was almost fun sweeping the snow today. It was light and fluffy, and it looked like the world had been sprinkled with powdered sugar—just like her mother’s brownies. Before she knew it, the driveway and walk in front of the house were cleared. But Mrs. Walker’s sidewalks next door were still covered with snow, so Andrea kept on sweeping. The widow’s arthritis would keep her from doing the job herself, and Andrea’s dad wouldn’t have time to do it. Besides, he’d shoveled Mrs. Walker’s snow last night before family home evening. She had just finished sweeping the sloping sidewalk, when she saw Kaitlyn come out of her house on the corner and start sweeping her own sidewalk.
Kaitlyn had moved into the neighborhood the past weekend. Andrea had met her at the bus stop, but they were in different grades, so Andrea hadn’t really had much chance to get to know her yet. Andrea had been praying for a long time that a member of the Church would move into the neighborhood—sometimes it was really hard being the only Latter-day Saint at school. She did have lots of friends, but her closest friends were her friends at Primary, and she usually only saw them on Sundays or at branch activities.
Kaitlyn wasn’t a member of the Church, but Andrea called out anyway, “Hey, Kaitlyn. Do you want some help with your snow?” In less than a minute she was down at Kaitlyn’s house, sweeping. Before long, that was clear, too.
“We sure do make a good team, Andrea,” Kaitlyn said. “See how good it looks! Why haven’t the other people swept their walks yet?”
“Almost everyone in the neighborhood works in the city and won’t be home until after dark. Nobody else on our block has kids. Remember?—we’re the only ones at our bus stop.”
“Oh, that’s right. Hey—let’s see how many walks we can clean before it gets dark. Do you think we can make it all the way down the block?”
“I don’t know,” Andrea answered, “but let’s try.”
The two girls hurried down the street, one sweeping to the left, and the other to the right, the light snow flying off the walks and driveways. The orange-red sun peeked out from behind the clouds as it sank toward the mountain across the lake. Soon the Labascos’ driveway was cleared, then Mr. Zadlock’s was done. Mrs. Fischer’s was next, and then the Romanos’.
Mrs. Keem drove in just as they were finishing her driveway. “Why, thank you, girls! How thoughtful you are. Would you like to come in for some cocoa?”
“Not today, thank you,” Kaitlyn said. “We still have more work to do.” The girls waved good-bye, then swept on down the street.
“We’re more than halfway done!” exclaimed Andrea as they began Dr. Randazzo’s walk, on the other side of the street. The snow was literally flying off the walks and driveways of the Changs, the Petrenkos, Miss Smith, the Porters, the Daniels. The sun was sinking behind the hill as they started on the Kelshaws’, the last house on the block. Just as they finished, Andrea’s dad drove down the street.
“We did it!” shouted Kaitlyn. “What a team!”
“That was so much fun,” laughed Andrea. “But now I’m cold and starved. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Kaitlyn’s going to be a great friend, Andrea thought as she walked into the kitchen fragrant with fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Maybe she’ll even come to Primary with me if I ask her to. I think the quarterly activity is coming up soon. …

One day I was coming back from my dad’s house. It was Sunday morning, and he asked me if I wanted to stop and get something for breakfast. I definitely wanted to stop. I was hungry, but after we remembered that it was Sunday, I told him that I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to keep the Sabbath day holy. That day I was happy because I did what was right. And I also helped my dad to choose the right. Good choices help me feel the Holy Ghost.
Isaac J., age 8, Idaho, USA

One of the most reassuring thoughts that has comforted me throughout my years has been: “I chose to come here. I sustained Christ’s plan rather than Satan’s in the premortal existence.” We all knew, before we were born, that we were coming to earth and would experience joy and sorrow. We eagerly accepted the plan. My father made this point very clear to me some years ago. I was wrestling with what to me seemed major issues in my life, with prayers not yet answered, or so I thought. Into my mind I heard him speak, although he had been gone for several years: “My dear, don’t trouble yourself about the little things, and the big things you already agreed to before you came.” We chose this life, with the struggles. We chose to accept the forgetting and to see whether we would walk by faith.

My Crisis
After having given the final exam to a spring-term class of Humanities 101, I was sitting in my old office in the JKHB wondering what my students would remember from the class I had just taught. The more I thought, the more distressed I became because I realized that I had remembered virtually nothing from the classes I had taken at the university. I began seriously to question this whole endeavor: spending enormous sums of money and expending years of toil in pursuit of an impossible dream. For if we retain virtually nothing of what we learn here, then why bother? No savvy businessman would ever risk investing in a venture that produced no tangible lasting results. Sure, we have grades printed on transcripts available at the Records Office, but what does my A- in organic chemistry from Dixie College mean if all I can now remember is the formula for water (H2O) and the formula for sulfuric acid (H2SO4)? Nevertheless, I gradually realized that I did remember something about my early schooling. What was striking, however, was not what I remembered, but why I remembered it.
*I remember the religion course I took from Dean B. West Belnap called “Your Religious Problems” because the students had to present their personal religious problems, and then each student had to provide a written response the next class period to the presenter. I don’t remember what the other students’ problems were, but I remember mine, because I had to write it down and present it in class.
*I also remember Chauncey Riddle’s beginning philosophy class because he used a modified Socratic method: probing for our answers to philosophical issues rather than loading us with information that we would likely soon forget. The final paper required us to formulate our own philosophy: our own ethics, epistemology, logic, aesthetics, and metaphysics. It was a revelation to me that philosophy involved me in a deeply personal way, that I even had a personal philosophy.

These remembered moments from my education are convincing evidence that what I retained over the years were the indelible experiences I was directly involved with, whereas the information I read or was told in class evaporated into the wind like disappearing ink. These realities form the basis for my new agenda as a teacher: to find ways to involve my students more directly in interactive learning experiences with the aid of new computer technology, and to help them develop applicable perceptual skills they can use for the rest of their lives and not promptly forget once the class is over.

I love seminary. I have often felt the Spirit there and have left feeling like a better person. On one particular day, however, I not only left feeling the Spirit, but I left with an answer to prayer.
The night before that particular day, I had asked Heavenly Father if the Church was true. After my prayer, I felt peaceful, but I was still not sure. I decided I would sleep on it.
The next day, my seminary teacher started the lesson with a video of some of the General Authorities bearing their testimonies. I felt the Spirit burning inside of me as we talked about testimonies and how little things can strengthen them.
He then put in another video of testimonies of kids who went to my school. I stared at the screen waiting for someone I knew. I saw some people I recognized, but I saw no close friends.
Then it happened. A girl I look up to so much appeared on the screen. As I looked into her eyes, she bore her testimony about Christ’s Atonement. Then she said these words: “I know this Church is true.” The Spirit overcame me. I realized my prayer was answered, and it was answered by one of the people that I look up to the most.
Heavenly Father knew that I needed to hear someone very close to me share her testimony of the Church. I am so grateful for the strong testimonies my friends have. Heavenly Father does answer our prayers.

Then there was Peter, youngest of the sons. He knew something his brothers didn’t know. Peter received his patriarchal blessing in 1986, after the temple dedication. He talks about going to a small town on the Polish border, attending a small branch in a shabby rented building rich with the Spirit, and then going to the home of the patriarch.
“He told me that I would go on a full-time mission. I would serve in a different country and a different language, and it would be in my youth. I was crying, I felt so close to the Lord in that moment. Afterward, I read my patriarchal blessing every night. I prayed. And I started saving money for my mission. I knew I was going soon.”
Peter just didn’t know where he would be going. (He thought somehow it might be Russia, since he spoke that language fairly well.) And, for some reason, he shared his blessing with his parents but not his brothers. “I was kind of different in my family. I always said, ‘We’re going on a mission, and it’s going to be great. We’re going to change things.’ My brother Matthias was skeptical. But I had my patriarchal blessing. I knew.”
Still, Peter didn’t know how it would happen.
Then, not long before the hated wall came down, the East German government began to allow a few full-time missionaries into East Germany for the first time in fifty years. At the same time, a handful of East German missionaries were allowed out of the country to serve in other nations. For some reason, none of the Lehmanns were permitted to be part of that group.
But then came those November days that were replayed on TV screens all over the world. East Berliners sat atop the wall with hammers and iron bars, tearing apart a barrier that had already been undermined by faith and prayer.
Peter was the first to submit his mission papers. Matthias and Michael followed soon after. All three were called to missions in the United States: Michael in the Tennessee Nashville Mission, Matthias in the Idaho Boise Mission, and Peter in the Colorado Denver Mission.