I would like to thank you for the article “Profanity” (May 1992). I was teaching an investigator who asked me why the Church feels it’s wrong to swear when everyone does it. All that came to mind was this article and these lines: “It’s the same mouth you use to pray, bear testimony, and bless the sacrament.” That’s all I had to say, because tears fell from my investigator’s eyes.
Elder Dwayne VictorFlorida Tampa Mission
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Summary: A missionary teaching an investigator was asked why swearing is wrong if everyone does it. He remembered a line from the New Era article on profanity and shared it, which moved the investigator to tears.
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Other
Conversion
Missionary Work
Prayer
Reverence
Sacrament
Sin
Teaching the Gospel
Testimony
“It’s a Challenge, I Guess”
Summary: At ages 10 and 13, Bennett and Kevin chose to hike a nearby mountain instead of playing basketball after school. That first two-mile hike sparked a passion for the outdoors and launched years of frequent adventures in many disciplines.
When Bennett was ten and Kevin 13, they decided there were better things to do after school than just play driveway basketball, so one day they took a two-mile hike up a nearby mountain. That tiny crack in their routine broke the dam wide open, and since then they’ve hiked thousands of miles. Almost every day finds them out-of-doors, and they’ve climbed every mountain in the area many times over. Their compulsion to be up and doing has carried them into rock climbing, snow climbing, hiking, camping (including snow cave and igloo camping), fishing, hunting, spelunking, ice climbing, outdoor photography, cross-country skiing, snowshoeing, fossil hunting, and other miscellaneous adventures hard to classify. On, over, around, under, in, among, through—it’s hard to think of a preposition they haven’t tried out on a mountain.
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👤 Youth
Creation
Friendship
Young Men
With Love from Your Visiting Teachers
Summary: While remodeling an old house and expecting a baby, a woman and her husband struggled with chaotic living conditions. Her estranged mother planned to clean the home before they returned from the hospital but found it already spotless—prepared by the woman's new visiting teachers. Seeing this service softened the mother's heart, leading to a heartfelt reconciliation between mother and daughter.
About four years ago my husband, David, and I bought an old house in Clarksville, Tennessee. We tore out all of the insides, ripped up some of the floors, replaced the wiring and plumbing, and added more rooms. It was a major undertaking! And we stayed in the house the whole time.
We lived in a genuine construction site. At night before falling into bed, I’d rake the sawdust, sheetrock, chips of wood, and other debris from the covers. I used a large shovel, instead of a broom to clean the floors. Lumber and sheets of plywood were stacked in the living room. Cans of paint, boxes of nails, ladders, and other tools were scattered throughout the rooms.
During the remodeling, I was pregnant with our second child. Two weeks before my due date, we stained the floors and painted the new rooms. That night, the baby started coming. We rushed to the hospital, leaving behind a house with no heating system, no windows in the front room, and no place for an infant to sleep.
My mother and father came that afternoon, driving from their country farm 90 kilometers away. I was apprehensive about Mama coming. She and I hadn’t been on good terms since I joined the Church in 1976. But she knew I needed help, with a new baby and with the house all torn apart.
Before going home, Mama stopped by our construction site. Overwhelmed—and a little dismayed at the living conditions her new grandchild would be brought into—she made plans to clean the house the next afternoon before I came home from the hospital.
Mama came as planned, wearing workclothes, with a shovel, rake, and bucket in hand. To her surprise, the construction site was spotless. Lumber, plywood, paint, and tools were all neatly stacked in one room. Clean sheets were on the bed. A bassinet with a new mattress and new sheets waited for the baby. The dirty laundry was missing. Lunch for David was in the refrigerator. And a wrapped package of baby clothes and a large bag of diapers sat near the front door. The card attached read, “Congratulations! With Love, from your visiting teachers, Carol and Barbara.”
I hardly knew these sisters—they had been called to be my visiting teachers only the month before. But when I came home from the hospital the next day, Carol brought the freshly washed laundry. Barbara brought supper.
But something else had happened.
Mama had taken the missionary discussions years before while I was on my mission. She had even read the four standard works and Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith. But her heart did not begin to soften until she saw the gospel in action.
Mama and I had a long talk later that week. We hugged each other for the first time in years. Tears fell as we talked long into the night, and we again felt a closeness as mother and daughter.
Now, with three daughters, my husband and I live in the western United States, some three thousand kilometers apart from Mama, and I look forward to her telephone calls and letters. For that blessing in my life I have to thank Carol and Barbara, my visiting teachers. They had come to clean a house and cook a meal. But they had no way of knowing that they were mending hearts and healing wounds and putting a family relationship back together again.
We lived in a genuine construction site. At night before falling into bed, I’d rake the sawdust, sheetrock, chips of wood, and other debris from the covers. I used a large shovel, instead of a broom to clean the floors. Lumber and sheets of plywood were stacked in the living room. Cans of paint, boxes of nails, ladders, and other tools were scattered throughout the rooms.
During the remodeling, I was pregnant with our second child. Two weeks before my due date, we stained the floors and painted the new rooms. That night, the baby started coming. We rushed to the hospital, leaving behind a house with no heating system, no windows in the front room, and no place for an infant to sleep.
My mother and father came that afternoon, driving from their country farm 90 kilometers away. I was apprehensive about Mama coming. She and I hadn’t been on good terms since I joined the Church in 1976. But she knew I needed help, with a new baby and with the house all torn apart.
Before going home, Mama stopped by our construction site. Overwhelmed—and a little dismayed at the living conditions her new grandchild would be brought into—she made plans to clean the house the next afternoon before I came home from the hospital.
Mama came as planned, wearing workclothes, with a shovel, rake, and bucket in hand. To her surprise, the construction site was spotless. Lumber, plywood, paint, and tools were all neatly stacked in one room. Clean sheets were on the bed. A bassinet with a new mattress and new sheets waited for the baby. The dirty laundry was missing. Lunch for David was in the refrigerator. And a wrapped package of baby clothes and a large bag of diapers sat near the front door. The card attached read, “Congratulations! With Love, from your visiting teachers, Carol and Barbara.”
I hardly knew these sisters—they had been called to be my visiting teachers only the month before. But when I came home from the hospital the next day, Carol brought the freshly washed laundry. Barbara brought supper.
But something else had happened.
Mama had taken the missionary discussions years before while I was on my mission. She had even read the four standard works and Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith. But her heart did not begin to soften until she saw the gospel in action.
Mama and I had a long talk later that week. We hugged each other for the first time in years. Tears fell as we talked long into the night, and we again felt a closeness as mother and daughter.
Now, with three daughters, my husband and I live in the western United States, some three thousand kilometers apart from Mama, and I look forward to her telephone calls and letters. For that blessing in my life I have to thank Carol and Barbara, my visiting teachers. They had come to clean a house and cook a meal. But they had no way of knowing that they were mending hearts and healing wounds and putting a family relationship back together again.
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👤 Parents
👤 Church Members (General)
Conversion
Family
Ministering
Relief Society
Service
Redemption
Summary: The speaker describes a friend who did not live the gospel in youth. As a young adult, the friend repented and devoted himself to righteous living. Years later, the speaker met him in the temple and saw his renewed devotion.
I have a friend who did not follow the teachings of the Church in his youth. When he was a young adult, he realized what he had been missing by not living the gospel. He repented, changed his life, and devoted himself to righteous living. One day, years after our youthful association, I met him in the temple. The gospel light shone in his eyes, and I sensed that he was a devoted member of the Church trying to fully live the gospel. His is a story of redemption.
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👤 Friends
👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Members (General)
Atonement of Jesus Christ
Conversion
Repentance
Temples
Testimony
We Chose This! Agency, Atonement, and Joy
Summary: The passage first recounts the life of Henry John Platt, who, orphaned in infancy, emigrated with his guardians, sought out the Saints in St. Louis after tragedy, was baptized at twenty, and served faithfully despite hardships. It then tells of the author’s parents: his father, Mitch Platt, was converted by a college roommate at the University of Arizona and later introduced the restored gospel to his future wife at Michigan State; after careful consideration and initial family concerns, his mother was baptized, the couple married and were later sealed, and their covenants have influenced their posterity, including multiple grandchildren serving missions.
Consider some of the choices of my great-great-great-grandfather Henry John Platt. Born in England in 1828, he was orphaned in his infancy and was placed in the care of Richard and Mary Speed. The Speeds heard the restored gospel and were baptized in 1841, when Henry was thirteen. But in Henry’s words, his guardian judged that he “was not sedate and good enough to be a member in the church.”39 He nonetheless emigrated with the Speeds at age sixteen. However, before reaching St. Louis, Richard drowned in the Mississippi River. The rest of the family scattered, but Henry sought out the Saints in St. Louis and was baptized at age twenty.
Henry spent the rest of his life serving in the kingdom—in St. Louis and later in Salt Lake City, St. George, Utah, and my hometown of St. Johns, Arizona. Through all the challenges of emigrating, settling in the desert, losing three children in the same year, and more, he nonetheless reported that he was “up to date endeavoring to do right (and) honor my calling.”40 It was not an easy path, but he chose this! He trusted the Savior and sought the joy that only He could give. He knew it was right.
I see similar faith demonstrated in my parents’ conversions. My grandfather fell inactive in his youth, which meant that my father, Mitch Platt, was not raised in the faith despite living among many members. Upon arriving at the University of Arizona, his assigned roommate was Kenny Evans, a somewhat recent convert to the restored Church. Kenny’s example and testimony opened my father’s heart, and near the end of his freshman year, my father was baptized. My father tells me that he didn’t have a deep understanding of scripture then, but he saw the fruits of the gospel and wanted them for himself and for his future family.
My father then transferred to finish his degree at Michigan State and almost immediately met my mother, Mary Johnson. With the same enthusiasm of his freshman roommate, my dad proceeded to introduce her to the restored gospel. She took her time—three years—to carefully consider this new church. During their senior year, her close friend was also meeting with the missionaries. After a university course that they shared, the two would meet at the student union to discuss over coffee what they were learning in the Book of Mormon. Sometime during that year they shifted to hot chocolate.
My mother’s father, Arnold Johnson, was a lay minister in the Lutheran Church. He was not thrilled with my mom’s potential conversion, but he did offer her important advice, saying, “If you do choose to join that church, don’t you ever change your mind. You should be sure.”
Eventually she was sure, choosing to be baptized shortly before graduating. My parents married civilly two months later and were sealed for eternity a year after her baptism.
My parent’s baptismal and temple covenants with the Savior have guided their lives through challenges and through joys and have influenced all their posterity. By late fall this year, five of their grandchildren will be called or serving full-time missions simultaneously, one of whom is my oldest son, Garrett. My parents chose this! They loved the Savior and sought His joy for their family. They knew it was right.
Henry spent the rest of his life serving in the kingdom—in St. Louis and later in Salt Lake City, St. George, Utah, and my hometown of St. Johns, Arizona. Through all the challenges of emigrating, settling in the desert, losing three children in the same year, and more, he nonetheless reported that he was “up to date endeavoring to do right (and) honor my calling.”40 It was not an easy path, but he chose this! He trusted the Savior and sought the joy that only He could give. He knew it was right.
I see similar faith demonstrated in my parents’ conversions. My grandfather fell inactive in his youth, which meant that my father, Mitch Platt, was not raised in the faith despite living among many members. Upon arriving at the University of Arizona, his assigned roommate was Kenny Evans, a somewhat recent convert to the restored Church. Kenny’s example and testimony opened my father’s heart, and near the end of his freshman year, my father was baptized. My father tells me that he didn’t have a deep understanding of scripture then, but he saw the fruits of the gospel and wanted them for himself and for his future family.
My father then transferred to finish his degree at Michigan State and almost immediately met my mother, Mary Johnson. With the same enthusiasm of his freshman roommate, my dad proceeded to introduce her to the restored gospel. She took her time—three years—to carefully consider this new church. During their senior year, her close friend was also meeting with the missionaries. After a university course that they shared, the two would meet at the student union to discuss over coffee what they were learning in the Book of Mormon. Sometime during that year they shifted to hot chocolate.
My mother’s father, Arnold Johnson, was a lay minister in the Lutheran Church. He was not thrilled with my mom’s potential conversion, but he did offer her important advice, saying, “If you do choose to join that church, don’t you ever change your mind. You should be sure.”
Eventually she was sure, choosing to be baptized shortly before graduating. My parents married civilly two months later and were sealed for eternity a year after her baptism.
My parent’s baptismal and temple covenants with the Savior have guided their lives through challenges and through joys and have influenced all their posterity. By late fall this year, five of their grandchildren will be called or serving full-time missions simultaneously, one of whom is my oldest son, Garrett. My parents chose this! They loved the Savior and sought His joy for their family. They knew it was right.
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👤 Parents
👤 Friends
👤 Missionaries
👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
ElderGary E. Stevenson: An Understanding Heart
Summary: Called to the Japan Fukuoka Mission, Stevenson felt anxious about learning Japanese. After six weeks in the missionary training center, through fervent prayer and diligent study, he felt peace that the Lord would help him learn, but only with continued effort. The experience taught him the interplay of faith and works.
After graduating from high school and a short time attending Utah State University, Elder Stevenson was called to serve in the Japan Fukuoka Mission. “I felt anxious about learning Japanese. My concern continued to mount in the missionary training center. Yet after about six weeks, fervent prayer and diligent study led me to a sense of peace that the Lord would bless me to learn Japanese, but not without hard work. This taught me that the gift of tongues is like faith and works and other gospel principles. After you have done all you can do, then you are endowed with the blessing.”
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👤 Missionaries
👤 Young Adults
Education
Faith
Missionary Work
Prayer
Spiritual Gifts
Safe at Home
Summary: The Morrell family gathers for a backyard baseball game that includes their daughter Jana, who has spina bifida and uses a specially made cart. The article shows how Jana’s older siblings support her in daily life, from school to swimming lessons and home chores.
The family says caring for Jana has strengthened their bond and taught them sensitivity and patience. Jana’s siblings also feel she has given them perspective and a deeper appreciation for people with disabilities and for the hope of the resurrection.
Jana Morrell is poised and ready. She inches toward home plate with a bat resting comfortably on her shoulder. She stares down the pitcher, who in this case happens to be her older sister Jodie. At first base, another sister, Jill, is waiting. In the outfield is Jana’s father and her older brother, Jason. Waiting on deck is Jana’s mom. Dinner has been served and eaten. Now it’s time for baseball.
Jana lets the first pitch go by. “Outside,” she says. Since there’s no umpire, they all take her word. Jodie winds up and delivers the next pitch, which Jana fouls off. The count is one ball and one strike, but in this game, it doesn’t even matter. No one keeps track of the count, and there is no striking out. You bat until you hit, which Jana intends to do.
When the next pitch is delivered, Jana makes contact and sends the ball rolling toward Jodie. Jana takes off for first base, going as fast as she can. Jodie gets to the ball and throws it to a waiting Jill. Jana beats the throw and is safe. She then leans back in her specially made cart and smiles. Instead of running to first base, Jana “pedaled” with her hands to get down the baseline.
Jana Morrell suffers from spina bifida, a condition that prevents the spinal area from developing and results in lifelong paralysis. But it hasn’t stopped ten-year-old Jana from becoming involved in the family’s activities. The same can be said about the family’s involvement with Jana, especially Jana’s two teenage sisters and her teenage brother.
“I know when we play baseball, it makes Jana feel good knowing she can do the things we do,” says Jill, 14. “We don’t play the games for the competition.” Obviously, who wins and loses isn’t the point of the Morrells’ backyard baseball games. Playing together as a family is.
“Sometimes I wonder how our family would be if Jana wasn’t handicapped. Would I be this close to everyone else?” asks 15-year-old Jodie. She stops and ponders her question for a minute, then says it doesn’t need answering because Jana is handicapped and it’s something they have all gotten used to.
The Morrells have also gained much comfort from the counsel of Elder Boyd K. Packer when he said, “Spirits which are beautiful and innocent may be temporally restrained by physical impediments. If healing does not come in mortal life, it will come thereafter. Just as the gorgeous monarch butterfly emerges from a chrysalis, so will spirits emerge” (Ensign, May 1991, p. 9).
“When Jana came home from the hospital, we felt a special close feeling between her and the rest of us. We had already decided as a family that even though Jana would not be able to do some things like other children, we were going to enjoy her a lot,” says Jodie. “She would always have care and love in our home.”
And outside the home too. Instead of going off with friends after school and hanging out with them, 16-year-old Jason spent his spring taking Jana to her swimming lessons. Just before her tenth birthday, Jason was right there when Jana got in the water without the use of her water wings, the flotation devices she placed on her arms to help keep her afloat. “It’s been great realizing how far she’s come with her swimming,” explains Jason.
Examples of the three oldest Morrell kids helping Jana are apparent, but it’s Jana who has also helped Jason, Jodie, and Jill better appreciate the plight of the handicapped.
“Whenever I see someone with a disability, I tend to get more sensitive about it because Jana is my sister. When people are saying things or making fun of people I tell them it’s not very nice to do,” says Jill. “A lot of the time they’ll ask ‘Why not?’ Because of my experiences with Jana, I always tell them to put themselves in the handicapped person’s position. When they think about what they’re doing, they usually stop.”
For the first month of Jana’s life, Jason, Jodie, and Jill didn’t see their new sister. When Jana was finally able to come home after a four-week stay at the hospital’s intensive-care unit, her brother and sisters were elated. “When we brought Jana home from the hospital, a special bond developed immediately between the other children and Jana,” says Sister Miriam Morrell, their mother. “I knew right then that Jana would never lack for care and love.”
By the time Jana began attending elementary school, Jill was in fifth grade. It became her responsibility to see that Jana got off the bus and into school safely in the morning, and then back on the bus at the end of the day. “Jill immediately gained a feeling for Jana’s needs as a student,” Sister Morrell continues. “She took the wheelchair, the walker, Jana, and her book bag to and from the bus each day. The school, as well as Jana, really depended on Jill.”
At home, Jason carries Jana up and down the stairs, and loads and unloads her wheelchair into the car. “Jana would not have made the progress she has without the help of the three older children,” Sister Morrell explains. “I would never have done as well as a mother without these dedicated teenagers who have taken their responsibility seriously.”
“Jana has taught me a lot about myself, and I feel good when I can help her,” Jason says. “Sometimes I’ll have a lot of homework or something, and I’ll end up giving up my study time to help Jana. That can be frustrating, but when I stop and think about what I’ve done I’m really glad I can help. And after the resurrection, we know that Jana will be able to use her legs. That really says something to me.”
And Jodie is quick to answer. “We often think about all the things we do for Jana, but it’s really the other way around.”
Jana lets the first pitch go by. “Outside,” she says. Since there’s no umpire, they all take her word. Jodie winds up and delivers the next pitch, which Jana fouls off. The count is one ball and one strike, but in this game, it doesn’t even matter. No one keeps track of the count, and there is no striking out. You bat until you hit, which Jana intends to do.
When the next pitch is delivered, Jana makes contact and sends the ball rolling toward Jodie. Jana takes off for first base, going as fast as she can. Jodie gets to the ball and throws it to a waiting Jill. Jana beats the throw and is safe. She then leans back in her specially made cart and smiles. Instead of running to first base, Jana “pedaled” with her hands to get down the baseline.
Jana Morrell suffers from spina bifida, a condition that prevents the spinal area from developing and results in lifelong paralysis. But it hasn’t stopped ten-year-old Jana from becoming involved in the family’s activities. The same can be said about the family’s involvement with Jana, especially Jana’s two teenage sisters and her teenage brother.
“I know when we play baseball, it makes Jana feel good knowing she can do the things we do,” says Jill, 14. “We don’t play the games for the competition.” Obviously, who wins and loses isn’t the point of the Morrells’ backyard baseball games. Playing together as a family is.
“Sometimes I wonder how our family would be if Jana wasn’t handicapped. Would I be this close to everyone else?” asks 15-year-old Jodie. She stops and ponders her question for a minute, then says it doesn’t need answering because Jana is handicapped and it’s something they have all gotten used to.
The Morrells have also gained much comfort from the counsel of Elder Boyd K. Packer when he said, “Spirits which are beautiful and innocent may be temporally restrained by physical impediments. If healing does not come in mortal life, it will come thereafter. Just as the gorgeous monarch butterfly emerges from a chrysalis, so will spirits emerge” (Ensign, May 1991, p. 9).
“When Jana came home from the hospital, we felt a special close feeling between her and the rest of us. We had already decided as a family that even though Jana would not be able to do some things like other children, we were going to enjoy her a lot,” says Jodie. “She would always have care and love in our home.”
And outside the home too. Instead of going off with friends after school and hanging out with them, 16-year-old Jason spent his spring taking Jana to her swimming lessons. Just before her tenth birthday, Jason was right there when Jana got in the water without the use of her water wings, the flotation devices she placed on her arms to help keep her afloat. “It’s been great realizing how far she’s come with her swimming,” explains Jason.
Examples of the three oldest Morrell kids helping Jana are apparent, but it’s Jana who has also helped Jason, Jodie, and Jill better appreciate the plight of the handicapped.
“Whenever I see someone with a disability, I tend to get more sensitive about it because Jana is my sister. When people are saying things or making fun of people I tell them it’s not very nice to do,” says Jill. “A lot of the time they’ll ask ‘Why not?’ Because of my experiences with Jana, I always tell them to put themselves in the handicapped person’s position. When they think about what they’re doing, they usually stop.”
For the first month of Jana’s life, Jason, Jodie, and Jill didn’t see their new sister. When Jana was finally able to come home after a four-week stay at the hospital’s intensive-care unit, her brother and sisters were elated. “When we brought Jana home from the hospital, a special bond developed immediately between the other children and Jana,” says Sister Miriam Morrell, their mother. “I knew right then that Jana would never lack for care and love.”
By the time Jana began attending elementary school, Jill was in fifth grade. It became her responsibility to see that Jana got off the bus and into school safely in the morning, and then back on the bus at the end of the day. “Jill immediately gained a feeling for Jana’s needs as a student,” Sister Morrell continues. “She took the wheelchair, the walker, Jana, and her book bag to and from the bus each day. The school, as well as Jana, really depended on Jill.”
At home, Jason carries Jana up and down the stairs, and loads and unloads her wheelchair into the car. “Jana would not have made the progress she has without the help of the three older children,” Sister Morrell explains. “I would never have done as well as a mother without these dedicated teenagers who have taken their responsibility seriously.”
“Jana has taught me a lot about myself, and I feel good when I can help her,” Jason says. “Sometimes I’ll have a lot of homework or something, and I’ll end up giving up my study time to help Jana. That can be frustrating, but when I stop and think about what I’ve done I’m really glad I can help. And after the resurrection, we know that Jana will be able to use her legs. That really says something to me.”
And Jodie is quick to answer. “We often think about all the things we do for Jana, but it’s really the other way around.”
Read more →
👤 Youth
👤 Children
👤 Parents
Disabilities
Family
Plan of Salvation
Sacrifice
Service
Young Men
In Search of Lehi’s Trail, Part 2:
Summary: The travelers reach Abha, where they meet Helwan Habtar and others who recite long family genealogies and show them the enduring market customs of Arabia. In the frankincense and myrrh markets, they learn how myrrh is still used medicinally, helping them understand why the Wise Men may have brought it to the baby Jesus. The passage concludes by noting that the continuing Arabian customs provide a living link to the world of Lehi and the Book of Mormon.
At Abha, we met an extraordinary man at precisely the time we needed him. Helwan Habtar, a graduate of American schools with masters degrees in both political science and economics, took us to his home where he recited for us his family genealogy back 22 generations. Intrigued, three other men who had come by for the evening also recited their genealogies back as far as 13 generations. They were delighted that we would make tape recordings of them.
We were fortunate to be in Abha on a Tuesday, market day for so many hundreds of years that Mr. Habtar could not tell us when the custom began. There is a market area for honey, one for frankincense, others for myrrh, fruits, vegetables, cloth, clothing, donkeys, sheep, and camels.
Our attention centered first on those areas selling frankincense and myrrh. Frankincense comes in golden lumps about as big as the end of a finger while myrrh is reddish-brown and comes in rock-shaped chunks or as grated shavings. The frankincense was relatively inexpensive (a couple of dollars a pound), but myrrh is still costly because it is used for “medicinal purposes: every newborn baby is given a taste of myrrh in water to warn him of life’s bitterness; burning myrrh in a censer near a child’s sickbed is supposed to guarantee a quick recovery. A 45-year-old Arab in Jerusalem related how his mother had made him jump over a dish of burning myrrh when he was sick as a child. Now we understood one possible reason why the Wise Men brought myrrh to the baby Jesus: it was to help Mary keep him well.
The story of the Wise Men, the baby Jesus, and the gifts they brought is a rich one, but more of that belongs to another place. For us, the significance of frankincense and myrrh in Arabia was that the customs of the desert still preserved living links with the world of Lehi, Nephi, and the Book of Mormon.
We were fortunate to be in Abha on a Tuesday, market day for so many hundreds of years that Mr. Habtar could not tell us when the custom began. There is a market area for honey, one for frankincense, others for myrrh, fruits, vegetables, cloth, clothing, donkeys, sheep, and camels.
Our attention centered first on those areas selling frankincense and myrrh. Frankincense comes in golden lumps about as big as the end of a finger while myrrh is reddish-brown and comes in rock-shaped chunks or as grated shavings. The frankincense was relatively inexpensive (a couple of dollars a pound), but myrrh is still costly because it is used for “medicinal purposes: every newborn baby is given a taste of myrrh in water to warn him of life’s bitterness; burning myrrh in a censer near a child’s sickbed is supposed to guarantee a quick recovery. A 45-year-old Arab in Jerusalem related how his mother had made him jump over a dish of burning myrrh when he was sick as a child. Now we understood one possible reason why the Wise Men brought myrrh to the baby Jesus: it was to help Mary keep him well.
The story of the Wise Men, the baby Jesus, and the gifts they brought is a rich one, but more of that belongs to another place. For us, the significance of frankincense and myrrh in Arabia was that the customs of the desert still preserved living links with the world of Lehi, Nephi, and the Book of Mormon.
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👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Bible
Christmas
Education
Family History
Health
President Thomas S. Monson:
Summary: Assigned to a busy stake conference weekend, Elder Monson initially planned only to remember a terminally ill child, Christal Methvin, in prayer. After the family and child prayed for him to come, the Spirit impressed him to change the schedule and visit her. He blessed her, and she peacefully passed away days later while being remembered in the prayer circle of Church leaders.
One weekend in August 1974 an unexpected change of conference assignment came, sending Elder Monson to the Shreveport Louisiana Stake. The Saturday afternoon schedule was filled with many meetings. Rather apologetically, the stake president asked Brother Monson if he had enough time to give a blessing to ten-year-old Christal Methvin, who was afflicted with cancer. Brother Monson said he would be pleased to do so and then asked if she would be coming to the conference meetings or if she were confined to a Shreveport hospital. Almost reluctantly, the stake president said Christal was unable to leave her home many miles from Shreveport.
Elder Monson examined the meeting schedule and found that there simply was no available time. As an alternative, he suggested that she be remembered in the public prayers which would be offered throughout the conference. Surely, he consoled, the Lord would understand and bless the Methvin family accordingly.
Prior to the stake conference, and unbeknown to Brother Monson, Christal had lost her leg to surgery, only to discover later that the cancer had spread to her tiny lungs. A trip had been planned to Salt Lake City, where she might receive a blessing from one of the General Authorities. The Methvins knew none of the Brethren personally, so they placed before Christal a picture of all the Church leaders. She pointed to the photograph of Elder Thomas S. Monson and said, “I would like him to give me a blessing.”
But Christal’s condition had deteriorated so rapidly that the flight to Salt Lake City had to be cancelled. She was growing weaker in body but not in faith. She said, “Since a General Authority is coming to our stake conference, why not Brother Monson? If I can’t go to him, the Lord can send him to me.” At about the same time, Brother Monson received the unexpected change in his stake conference assignment which sent him to Shreveport.
As one final favor to Christal, they agreed to kneel by her bedside and ask for just one more blessing—the chance to enjoy Brother Monson’s personal visit.
After receiving word from the stake president that Brother Monson would be unable to visit Christal because of the extremely busy meeting schedule, the Methvins were understandably very disappointed. They knelt again around Christal’s bedside, pleading for a final favor for her: that somehow her desire for a blessing at the hands of Brother Monson would be realized.
At the very moment the Methvin family knelt around Christal’s bed, Elder Monson was shuffling his notes, preparing to speak at the concluding portion of the Saturday evening session. However, as he began his move to the pulpit, a voice whispered in near-audible tones a brief but very familiar message: “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.”
His notes became a blur as his eyes filled with tears. He attempted to follow the theme of the meeting as outlined, but the name and image of Christal Methvin would not leave his mind. Then, ever faithful to the precious gift so demonstrably his, he responded to the spiritual message. He instructed that changes in the next day’s conference schedule be made, whatever the cost in confusion and disruption. Then the meeting continued.
After a very early Sunday drive over many kilometers, Elder Monson gazed down upon a child too ill to rise, too weak to speak. Her illness had now made her blind. Deeply touched by the scene and the Spirit of the Lord which was so prevalent, Brother Monson dropped to his knees and took the child’s frail hand in his own. “Christal,” he whispered, “I am here.”
With great effort she whispered back, “Brother Monson, I just knew you would come.”
A blessing was pronounced commending a sweet child’s body and spirit to the loving watchcare of her Heavenly Father, who surely must have been observing that tender scene. Her barely audible “Thank you” gave eloquent benediction to the blessing and to the sweet life of faith she had lived. The next Thursday, as she was being remembered in the prayer circle of the First Presidency and Council of the Twelve where Elder Monson had placed her name, Christal Methvin’s pure spirit left its disease-ravaged body and entered the paradise of God.
Elder Monson examined the meeting schedule and found that there simply was no available time. As an alternative, he suggested that she be remembered in the public prayers which would be offered throughout the conference. Surely, he consoled, the Lord would understand and bless the Methvin family accordingly.
Prior to the stake conference, and unbeknown to Brother Monson, Christal had lost her leg to surgery, only to discover later that the cancer had spread to her tiny lungs. A trip had been planned to Salt Lake City, where she might receive a blessing from one of the General Authorities. The Methvins knew none of the Brethren personally, so they placed before Christal a picture of all the Church leaders. She pointed to the photograph of Elder Thomas S. Monson and said, “I would like him to give me a blessing.”
But Christal’s condition had deteriorated so rapidly that the flight to Salt Lake City had to be cancelled. She was growing weaker in body but not in faith. She said, “Since a General Authority is coming to our stake conference, why not Brother Monson? If I can’t go to him, the Lord can send him to me.” At about the same time, Brother Monson received the unexpected change in his stake conference assignment which sent him to Shreveport.
As one final favor to Christal, they agreed to kneel by her bedside and ask for just one more blessing—the chance to enjoy Brother Monson’s personal visit.
After receiving word from the stake president that Brother Monson would be unable to visit Christal because of the extremely busy meeting schedule, the Methvins were understandably very disappointed. They knelt again around Christal’s bedside, pleading for a final favor for her: that somehow her desire for a blessing at the hands of Brother Monson would be realized.
At the very moment the Methvin family knelt around Christal’s bed, Elder Monson was shuffling his notes, preparing to speak at the concluding portion of the Saturday evening session. However, as he began his move to the pulpit, a voice whispered in near-audible tones a brief but very familiar message: “Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God.”
His notes became a blur as his eyes filled with tears. He attempted to follow the theme of the meeting as outlined, but the name and image of Christal Methvin would not leave his mind. Then, ever faithful to the precious gift so demonstrably his, he responded to the spiritual message. He instructed that changes in the next day’s conference schedule be made, whatever the cost in confusion and disruption. Then the meeting continued.
After a very early Sunday drive over many kilometers, Elder Monson gazed down upon a child too ill to rise, too weak to speak. Her illness had now made her blind. Deeply touched by the scene and the Spirit of the Lord which was so prevalent, Brother Monson dropped to his knees and took the child’s frail hand in his own. “Christal,” he whispered, “I am here.”
With great effort she whispered back, “Brother Monson, I just knew you would come.”
A blessing was pronounced commending a sweet child’s body and spirit to the loving watchcare of her Heavenly Father, who surely must have been observing that tender scene. Her barely audible “Thank you” gave eloquent benediction to the blessing and to the sweet life of faith she had lived. The next Thursday, as she was being remembered in the prayer circle of the First Presidency and Council of the Twelve where Elder Monson had placed her name, Christal Methvin’s pure spirit left its disease-ravaged body and entered the paradise of God.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Children
👤 Church Members (General)
Adversity
Apostle
Children
Death
Faith
Holy Ghost
Ministering
Prayer
Priesthood Blessing
Service
The Law of the Fast
Summary: President Thomas S. Monson, then a young bishop, sensed deacons were complaining about early fast-offering collection. He took them to Welfare Square, where they met a disabled woman, a blind man, and an elderly brother working. The visit moved the boys to a reverent silence as they saw how their efforts blessed lives and provided employment.
The deacons in the Church have a sacred obligation to visit the home of every member to collect fast offerings for the poor. President Thomas S. Monson once related to me how he, as a young bishop, began to sense that the young deacons in his ward were complaining about having to get up so early to collect fast offerings. Instead of calling the young men to task, this wise bishop took them to Welfare Square in Salt Lake City.
There the boys met a disabled woman operating the switchboard. They saw a blind man placing labels on cans, and an elderly brother stocking shelves. As a result of what they saw, President Monson said, a penetrating silence came over the boys as they witnessed the end result of their efforts to collect the sacred funds that aided the needy and provided employment for those who otherwise would be idle.
There the boys met a disabled woman operating the switchboard. They saw a blind man placing labels on cans, and an elderly brother stocking shelves. As a result of what they saw, President Monson said, a penetrating silence came over the boys as they witnessed the end result of their efforts to collect the sacred funds that aided the needy and provided employment for those who otherwise would be idle.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Youth
👤 Church Members (General)
Bishop
Charity
Disabilities
Employment
Fasting and Fast Offerings
Priesthood
Young Men
Be Not Afraid
Summary: As a boy on a family outing near Wanship, Utah, the author was accidentally shot in the leg. At the doctor’s office he silently prayed for help not to cry and endured a painful sterilization procedure, later healing fully and feeling kinship with Joseph Smith’s experience.
I can relate to the Prophet Joseph’s experience because of something that happened to me. When I was a boy, I used to love to walk in the fields and in the meadows and to swim in the creeks and in the ponds. My father taught me to hunt and to fish. One summer our family went on an outing near Wanship, Utah. We camped in tents among the trees that grew along the banks of the river. A group of our parents’ friends and their families went with us and pitched their tents close to ours. One afternoon some of my young friends and I went out hunting varmints, which were considered pests because they ate the tender feed the sheep needed as they grazed. We had .22-caliber rifles, and I was accidentally shot in the leg above the knee at close range. When the bullet passed through my leg, it felt like a hot poker was going through the flesh. Then I felt the warm blood running down my leg from the hole where the bullet had passed through it. I called my father to show him what had happened. He and the other men administered first aid to control the bleeding, then helped me into our family car to go to the nearest doctor, who was in Coalville.
After laying me on the operating table and examining the wound carefully, the doctor decided that he must first sterilize the hole in my leg through which the bullet had passed. When I saw how he was going to sterilize it, I was afraid of two things: I was afraid of the pain and I was also afraid that I would cry. I didn’t want to cry, because I wanted my father to think I was no longer a child. In my heart, I said a silent prayer that Heavenly Father would help me so that no matter how badly it hurt, I wouldn’t cry.
The doctor took a rod like those used to clean gun barrels. On the end of the rod was a hole through which a small piece of gauze was threaded and dipped into a sterilizing solution. The doctor then took the rod and pushed it into my leg. When it came out on the other side, he changed the gauze, put fresh antiseptic on it, and pulled it back through the hole, pushing it back and forth three times. It hurt quite a bit, especially when he got near the bone. But my father held my hand, and I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes and tried to hold still. Heavenly Father had heard my silent prayer, because it did not seem to hurt as much as I thought it would, and I didn’t cry. The wound healed quickly and completely. I was never bothered again by that leg, even when I participated in sports in high school and college. I have felt something of a feeling of kinship to the Prophet Joseph ever since, knowing that he, too, had had a painful wound in his leg and had been healed and that he was later described as being a hale and hearty man.
After laying me on the operating table and examining the wound carefully, the doctor decided that he must first sterilize the hole in my leg through which the bullet had passed. When I saw how he was going to sterilize it, I was afraid of two things: I was afraid of the pain and I was also afraid that I would cry. I didn’t want to cry, because I wanted my father to think I was no longer a child. In my heart, I said a silent prayer that Heavenly Father would help me so that no matter how badly it hurt, I wouldn’t cry.
The doctor took a rod like those used to clean gun barrels. On the end of the rod was a hole through which a small piece of gauze was threaded and dipped into a sterilizing solution. The doctor then took the rod and pushed it into my leg. When it came out on the other side, he changed the gauze, put fresh antiseptic on it, and pulled it back through the hole, pushing it back and forth three times. It hurt quite a bit, especially when he got near the bone. But my father held my hand, and I gritted my teeth and shut my eyes and tried to hold still. Heavenly Father had heard my silent prayer, because it did not seem to hurt as much as I thought it would, and I didn’t cry. The wound healed quickly and completely. I was never bothered again by that leg, even when I participated in sports in high school and college. I have felt something of a feeling of kinship to the Prophet Joseph ever since, knowing that he, too, had had a painful wound in his leg and had been healed and that he was later described as being a hale and hearty man.
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Parents
👤 Children
Courage
Faith
Family
Joseph Smith
Miracles
Prayer
Living Happily Ever After
Summary: A young woman named Emily lacked a firm testimony and considered leaving Church activity to seek happiness elsewhere. Observing that the happiest people around her were active members, she decided to remain involved. She concluded that the gospel brings genuine happiness even as her testimony was still forming.
A young friend named Emily discovered this for herself. Emily did not yet have a testimony of the gospel and was contemplating whether to remain active in the Church or try to find happiness elsewhere. As she searched for answers, she began to notice that the people and families around her who were the happiest were the ones who were active in the Church. After that discovery, she determined that even if she didn’t yet have a complete testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel, she wanted to be part of something that helped people to be so happy. The word gospel means “good news,” and, as Emily discovered, the good news is that the gospel can make us very happy.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Members (General)
Conversion
Doubt
Faith
Family
Happiness
Testimony
Keep Going, Josie!
Summary: On the day of a big race, Josie feels exhausted after being sick and staying up late to catch up on schoolwork. Struggling to keep pace, she considers giving up until her teammates pass her with words of encouragement, helping her finish. The team qualifies for the next race, and that night Josie prays, recognizing that Jesus, like her teammates, strengthens her to keep going.
Josie yawned as she slowed her jog to a walk. Today was the big race! She had been looking forward to this day for months. But instead of feeling excited during warm-ups, Josie felt tired.
“How’s it going?” her older sister, Christine, asked. She sat down with Josie on the grass so they could stretch their legs.
“I’m really tired today,” Josie said, reaching for her toes.
She had been sick and had to miss several days of school. So last night she stayed up late catching up on her schoolwork.
“I hope I don’t let our team down,” Josie said.
“Just do the best you can,” Christine said. “Looks like we’re about to start!”
The girls jogged over to join their teammates. As they lined up with the other runners, Josie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew her team was counting on her to run fast, as she usually did. The race time from the top five runners on their team would determine whether their team went on to the finals. She barely had time to get in position when the gun sounded to start the race. Bang! The runners pushed off the starting line and sprinted forward.
Josie pumped her arms and lengthened her steps. She knew she needed to get ahead in the beginning if she wanted to be a top finisher. At first Josie could keep up with the other lead runners. But when she tried to run faster, she couldn’t.
Josie breathed harder. She just couldn’t get her legs to move any faster. The runners behind her started passing her. Usually Josie was the one doing the passing! Maybe I should just give up, she thought.
Josie looked down at the ground as she heard another runner pass her. “Keep going, Josie!” the runner said as she ran by. Josie looked up. Then she smiled. It was one of her teammates.
“You can do it!” another teammate said as she ran past. One by one as Josie’s teammates passed her, they encouraged her to keep running.
Josie felt a surge of determination. Maybe she wouldn’t be in the top five, but she could still finish the race. She focused on her steps and didn’t stop until she finally crossed the finish line.
“I’m sorry if I … didn’t help us … qualify for the next race,” she said between big breaths.
“Our team did qualify!” Josie’s coach said as she ran over to the girls. Everyone on the team cheered, and Christine threw her arms around Josie in a big hug.
That night as Josie knelt to pray, she thought about how her teammates had helped her. Their words gave her strength to keep going when she wanted to quit.
Josie looked up at the picture of Jesus hanging above her bed. Jesus does the same thing for us, she thought. She smiled as she imagined the Savior cheering her on. “Keep going, Josie! I am here to help you.”
Josie thanked Heavenly Father for His help in running the race of life. She felt like she could do anything with Jesus cheering her on!
“How’s it going?” her older sister, Christine, asked. She sat down with Josie on the grass so they could stretch their legs.
“I’m really tired today,” Josie said, reaching for her toes.
She had been sick and had to miss several days of school. So last night she stayed up late catching up on her schoolwork.
“I hope I don’t let our team down,” Josie said.
“Just do the best you can,” Christine said. “Looks like we’re about to start!”
The girls jogged over to join their teammates. As they lined up with the other runners, Josie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew her team was counting on her to run fast, as she usually did. The race time from the top five runners on their team would determine whether their team went on to the finals. She barely had time to get in position when the gun sounded to start the race. Bang! The runners pushed off the starting line and sprinted forward.
Josie pumped her arms and lengthened her steps. She knew she needed to get ahead in the beginning if she wanted to be a top finisher. At first Josie could keep up with the other lead runners. But when she tried to run faster, she couldn’t.
Josie breathed harder. She just couldn’t get her legs to move any faster. The runners behind her started passing her. Usually Josie was the one doing the passing! Maybe I should just give up, she thought.
Josie looked down at the ground as she heard another runner pass her. “Keep going, Josie!” the runner said as she ran by. Josie looked up. Then she smiled. It was one of her teammates.
“You can do it!” another teammate said as she ran past. One by one as Josie’s teammates passed her, they encouraged her to keep running.
Josie felt a surge of determination. Maybe she wouldn’t be in the top five, but she could still finish the race. She focused on her steps and didn’t stop until she finally crossed the finish line.
“I’m sorry if I … didn’t help us … qualify for the next race,” she said between big breaths.
“Our team did qualify!” Josie’s coach said as she ran over to the girls. Everyone on the team cheered, and Christine threw her arms around Josie in a big hug.
That night as Josie knelt to pray, she thought about how her teammates had helped her. Their words gave her strength to keep going when she wanted to quit.
Josie looked up at the picture of Jesus hanging above her bed. Jesus does the same thing for us, she thought. She smiled as she imagined the Savior cheering her on. “Keep going, Josie! I am here to help you.”
Josie thanked Heavenly Father for His help in running the race of life. She felt like she could do anything with Jesus cheering her on!
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👤 Children
👤 Friends
👤 Jesus Christ
Adversity
Endure to the End
Faith
Friendship
Gratitude
Jesus Christ
Prayer
Receiving Revelation for Life Decisions
Summary: While in graduate school, the speaker chose between two similar job offers but felt uneasy after leaving a voicemail declining one of them. He called his wife, prayed with her, and they both felt they should reverse the decision; though awkward, the recruiter graciously allowed him to change his mind.
While I was in graduate school, I received two offers from firms that I felt provided similar opportunities. After studying, counseling, and prayer, my wife and I could not discern which offer would be better for our family. The time came when I had to give an answer to the firms, so I picked one and planned to move forward. During the earlier recruiting process, the recruiter from the other firm coaxed me into promising that I would call her first regardless of what I decided. I wanted to keep my word, so I did call her first. Fortunately, she did not answer, and I was relieved that I could fulfill my promise with a voicemail. In the voicemail, I explained that I had chosen the other firm and then told her all the things that I liked about her firm. The more I talked, the more I felt sick to my stomach about the decision. By the time I hung up, I knew I needed to revisit the decision. I called my wife and asked her to come to campus and pray with me. We prayed and it was clear to both of us that we needed to change our decision. I felt good about it . . . except I had already left her a voicemail declining their offer. I called back, hoping she had not listened to the voicemail yet. She had, but graciously allowed me to change my mind.
One may ask, “How could that happen?” It could have been that I was still learning the language of the Spirit. Even now, I am still learning. Additionally, in some instances, we may find that the original answer is one of several steppingstones to a final destination.
One may ask, “How could that happen?” It could have been that I was still learning the language of the Spirit. Even now, I am still learning. Additionally, in some instances, we may find that the original answer is one of several steppingstones to a final destination.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Parents
👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Education
Employment
Faith
Family
Holy Ghost
Honesty
Prayer
Revelation
Grandpa
Summary: Lisa worries as her bedridden grandpa nears death and recalls his love of crocuses. After tender conversations about death being like a winter away, she searches the garden daily and discovers a purple crocus blooming despite winter. She brings it to Grandpa, and the experience comforts her, easing the pain of their impending separation.
Lisa stood in the doorway of Grandpa’s bedroom. She wanted to talk to him, but he was sound asleep. There was so much to say and so little time. Grandpa couldn’t even get out of bed now.
“I’ll be thankful if I get to see another crocus,” he had said. Those words brought back vividly all the hurt and pain she had felt when Keekee, her pet hamster, died.
Now it is Grandpa’s turn to go, Lisa thought sadly. All the pain of parting came back again. Once more she looked over the garden. Every year she and Grandpa had planted bulbs along both sides of the walkway but now Grandpa was too ill. She remembered how one by one she had handed Grandpa the crocus bulbs and watched him place them into freshly dug holes. Then he covered them gently, almost with a prayer.
Lisa went back to Grandpa’s room. He seemed to still be asleep but then he opened his eyes. “Is that you, Lisa?” he asked.
“Yes, Grandpa, is there anything I can do for you? Anything you want?”
“Just sit and talk to me,” he said, taking her hand.
“The garden misses you, Grandpa. We don’t want you to go.”
“It will only be for a little while. In Heavenly Father’s time it will only be like a winter away. Plants sleep during the winter and wake up in the spring. So it is with people. We are parted for a while and come together again in a world where there is no more separation.”
Grandpa’s hand became limp and he fell asleep.
Lisa went out into the garden again.
“Grandpa loves you,” she spoke to the lilac tree and the rosebushes as though they could understand. “If you could give him a flower, it would make him so happy.” But only the silence and the cold wind answered her. Every day after that, Lisa carefully examined each plant, but there wasn’t even a sign of a swollen node.
Mother had asked Lisa to help in preparing the house for company who would want to visit with Grandpa. “Friends and relatives will come to see Grandpa often,” she said, “and you must keep the porch and steps clean.”
Many people did come to see Grandpa, and each day he seemed to sleep a little longer. Sometimes he didn’t know Lisa was there beside him. One day as she was sweeping the porch, the pain of losing Grandpa seemed to grow so big within Lisa that she thought it would burst. She began to cry. The broom slipped from her hand and fell beside the steps. As she stooped to pick it up, something caught her eye. It was half-hidden under the porch and behind the steps. She got on her knees and could hardly believe what she saw. In a sheltered place, well-protected from the wind and cold, was a purple crocus poking up from the dark earth. Although it was still winter, a flower had been born.
Lisa rushed to Grandpa’s bedroom where he lay sleeping. “Please wake up, Grandpa, and see what I found!” she cried. But Grandpa didn’t stir. Lisa waited and waited. She was about to leave the room when Grandpa opened his eyes.
“Look, Grandpa. Look what I have for you!” Lisa said softly.
“A crocus,” he whispered. “How wonderful!” He took the flower and held it to his face. “Where did you find it, Lisa? We took up all the bulbs last fall.”
“I guess we missed this one. It was in the corner by the steps.”
Grandpa smiled. “Lisa, did I ever tell you the story about the tree that began to sprout leaves in the winter? At the time, people called it a miracle. It brought new hope to many who needed it. Later it was discovered that a steam pipe near the tree had a leak and the warmth made the tree think it was spring—time to wake up and time to show its leaves. People talked about it for months afterward. Many felt it was a message from God, telling them that they should never despair.”
Lisa sat quietly thinking about the miracle tree. She looked down at Grandpa, who had fallen asleep again, the crocus still in his hand. Lisa stood beside the bed for a long time. Slowly some of the pain she felt began to ease. Grandpa’s going away didn’t hurt quite as much now. She knew that one day they would be together again.
“I love you, Grandpa,” she whispered, recalling his words, All else can fade away but love is forever.
“I’ll be thankful if I get to see another crocus,” he had said. Those words brought back vividly all the hurt and pain she had felt when Keekee, her pet hamster, died.
Now it is Grandpa’s turn to go, Lisa thought sadly. All the pain of parting came back again. Once more she looked over the garden. Every year she and Grandpa had planted bulbs along both sides of the walkway but now Grandpa was too ill. She remembered how one by one she had handed Grandpa the crocus bulbs and watched him place them into freshly dug holes. Then he covered them gently, almost with a prayer.
Lisa went back to Grandpa’s room. He seemed to still be asleep but then he opened his eyes. “Is that you, Lisa?” he asked.
“Yes, Grandpa, is there anything I can do for you? Anything you want?”
“Just sit and talk to me,” he said, taking her hand.
“The garden misses you, Grandpa. We don’t want you to go.”
“It will only be for a little while. In Heavenly Father’s time it will only be like a winter away. Plants sleep during the winter and wake up in the spring. So it is with people. We are parted for a while and come together again in a world where there is no more separation.”
Grandpa’s hand became limp and he fell asleep.
Lisa went out into the garden again.
“Grandpa loves you,” she spoke to the lilac tree and the rosebushes as though they could understand. “If you could give him a flower, it would make him so happy.” But only the silence and the cold wind answered her. Every day after that, Lisa carefully examined each plant, but there wasn’t even a sign of a swollen node.
Mother had asked Lisa to help in preparing the house for company who would want to visit with Grandpa. “Friends and relatives will come to see Grandpa often,” she said, “and you must keep the porch and steps clean.”
Many people did come to see Grandpa, and each day he seemed to sleep a little longer. Sometimes he didn’t know Lisa was there beside him. One day as she was sweeping the porch, the pain of losing Grandpa seemed to grow so big within Lisa that she thought it would burst. She began to cry. The broom slipped from her hand and fell beside the steps. As she stooped to pick it up, something caught her eye. It was half-hidden under the porch and behind the steps. She got on her knees and could hardly believe what she saw. In a sheltered place, well-protected from the wind and cold, was a purple crocus poking up from the dark earth. Although it was still winter, a flower had been born.
Lisa rushed to Grandpa’s bedroom where he lay sleeping. “Please wake up, Grandpa, and see what I found!” she cried. But Grandpa didn’t stir. Lisa waited and waited. She was about to leave the room when Grandpa opened his eyes.
“Look, Grandpa. Look what I have for you!” Lisa said softly.
“A crocus,” he whispered. “How wonderful!” He took the flower and held it to his face. “Where did you find it, Lisa? We took up all the bulbs last fall.”
“I guess we missed this one. It was in the corner by the steps.”
Grandpa smiled. “Lisa, did I ever tell you the story about the tree that began to sprout leaves in the winter? At the time, people called it a miracle. It brought new hope to many who needed it. Later it was discovered that a steam pipe near the tree had a leak and the warmth made the tree think it was spring—time to wake up and time to show its leaves. People talked about it for months afterward. Many felt it was a message from God, telling them that they should never despair.”
Lisa sat quietly thinking about the miracle tree. She looked down at Grandpa, who had fallen asleep again, the crocus still in his hand. Lisa stood beside the bed for a long time. Slowly some of the pain she felt began to ease. Grandpa’s going away didn’t hurt quite as much now. She knew that one day they would be together again.
“I love you, Grandpa,” she whispered, recalling his words, All else can fade away but love is forever.
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👤 Children
👤 Other
Children
Death
Faith
Family
Grief
Hope
Love
Miracles
Plan of Salvation
Courage to Share What I Value Most
Summary: Inspired by her bishop and his wife who shared a Book of Mormon on every trip, the author resolved to do the same when she traveled. As a BYU cheerleader, she prayed before each trip to be led to someone prepared, found opportunities to share naturally, and felt increased love for others. After graduating, she continued seeking chances to share and overcame fear through consistent practice and divine help.
As a young adult, my bishop and his wife, who traveled a lot for their business, told me that they shared a Book of Mormon with someone on every trip they took.
That inspired me. I admired them, and their examples touched my heart. I decided that if I ever got the chance to travel outside of Utah, USA, I would follow their example and share a Book of Mormon each time.
As a cheerleader for Brigham Young University, I traveled frequently with the cheerleading team. Before my first trip, I bought a Book of Mormon and wrote my testimony in it. I wanted to develop the courage to share what I valued most with others: my testimony and the Book of Mormon. I wanted to be like my bishop and his wife. I wanted to be like Jesus Christ. I wanted to help gather others and help them to come unto Him.
I quickly learned that if I prayed before each trip to be led to the one who needed it, a person would show up at the right time and the right place for me to make sharing the Book of Mormon natural and easy. The more I practiced, the easier my sharing became. My journeys became more meaningful for me. I was always thrilled to find Heavenly Father’s blessed recipient of this sacred testament of Christ.
When I traveled, I pondered, “Where should I go to find the one whom Heavenly Father is sending me to this time? What can I say to him or her to convey how precious the Book of Mormon is to me?” My thoughts and actions became focused outside of my own needs and entertainment, and I felt increased love for everyone I met. I tried to look at them through the Savior’s eyes. I prayed for them to accept the divine gift that Heavenly Father had sent me to offer them.
I was sad when my senior year came to an end. Being a cheerleader for BYU was a lifelong dream for me. I would have enjoyed the incredible experience to cheer no matter what, but the opportunity to share a copy of the Book of Mormon on each cheerleading trip enriched my life in beautiful, unexpected ways.
Sharing the Book of Mormon was a valuable and easy way to add an extra layer of meaning to my university experience. I know that the people with whom I shared the Book of Mormon were specifically guided to receive it. I also know that into the incredible tapestry of my life, Heavenly Father wove a loving and sweet tender mercy: He allowed me to feel His love for His children in a special way every trip I took.
After I graduated, I decided to always continue looking for someone with whom I can share my testimony. Over time, I developed greater ability and comfort with sharing my testimony. I learned to no longer fear sharing it. I believe everyone can become more comfortable sharing their testimony with practice and by asking for divine help.
That inspired me. I admired them, and their examples touched my heart. I decided that if I ever got the chance to travel outside of Utah, USA, I would follow their example and share a Book of Mormon each time.
As a cheerleader for Brigham Young University, I traveled frequently with the cheerleading team. Before my first trip, I bought a Book of Mormon and wrote my testimony in it. I wanted to develop the courage to share what I valued most with others: my testimony and the Book of Mormon. I wanted to be like my bishop and his wife. I wanted to be like Jesus Christ. I wanted to help gather others and help them to come unto Him.
I quickly learned that if I prayed before each trip to be led to the one who needed it, a person would show up at the right time and the right place for me to make sharing the Book of Mormon natural and easy. The more I practiced, the easier my sharing became. My journeys became more meaningful for me. I was always thrilled to find Heavenly Father’s blessed recipient of this sacred testament of Christ.
When I traveled, I pondered, “Where should I go to find the one whom Heavenly Father is sending me to this time? What can I say to him or her to convey how precious the Book of Mormon is to me?” My thoughts and actions became focused outside of my own needs and entertainment, and I felt increased love for everyone I met. I tried to look at them through the Savior’s eyes. I prayed for them to accept the divine gift that Heavenly Father had sent me to offer them.
I was sad when my senior year came to an end. Being a cheerleader for BYU was a lifelong dream for me. I would have enjoyed the incredible experience to cheer no matter what, but the opportunity to share a copy of the Book of Mormon on each cheerleading trip enriched my life in beautiful, unexpected ways.
Sharing the Book of Mormon was a valuable and easy way to add an extra layer of meaning to my university experience. I know that the people with whom I shared the Book of Mormon were specifically guided to receive it. I also know that into the incredible tapestry of my life, Heavenly Father wove a loving and sweet tender mercy: He allowed me to feel His love for His children in a special way every trip I took.
After I graduated, I decided to always continue looking for someone with whom I can share my testimony. Over time, I developed greater ability and comfort with sharing my testimony. I learned to no longer fear sharing it. I believe everyone can become more comfortable sharing their testimony with practice and by asking for divine help.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Book of Mormon
Courage
Jesus Christ
Love
Missionary Work
Prayer
Scriptures
Testimony
Staying Centered
Summary: Four college roommates held a family home evening at a park and spun a merry-go-round at high speed. Carlos and then Brad were thrown off, after which Dave explained that it's safer in the center, likening it to staying centered in Christ and the Church. He read Moroni 10:32 and taught that following the Savior and prophets helps avoid risks that can pull us away. The narrator reflects that the lesson has helped him resist growing distractions by staying centered on Christ.
“I can fly,” laughed Carlos as he went spiraling into the cool Idaho evening. He landed in the playground sand and rolled like a movie stuntman.
He brushed himself off and ran back to the merry-go-round, but it was spinning too fast to get back on. The four of us, all college roommates, had the thing moving so fast that I was afraid it would spin off its braces and take flight. I guessed we’d break out of the earth’s gravitational pull somewhere near Boise, and I’d never get home for Christmas.
“Is there a point to this?” I yelled at Dave, who was leading our family home evening activity that night.
“Yep. And remember, I buy pizza for whoever stays on the longest,” he called from his position in the middle of the twirling merry-go-round.
Our roommate Brad, however, was standing near the edge of the contraption, and I could see his grip was not that secure. From the ground Carlos saw too and began spinning us until we were moving at particle-accelerator velocity. Finally, Brad slipped and was sucked off like he’d just opened the door of a flying 747. He crashed right into Carlos. The two of them landed on the sand in an awkward heap.
“Okay, I win,” I yelled. “Now stop this thing before I throw up.”
We eventually slowed the ride, and Dave gathered us on one of the park benches to give us his lesson.
“Anyone know why I put us through this merry-go-round exercise tonight?” he asked.
“Mental instability?” Brad guessed.
“A sadistic streak?” I asked. My world was still spinning.
“Thanks, but wrong. Did you notice why Carlos and Brad flew off?” Dave asked.
“Yeah, because you took the middle,” said Brad.
“Actually, there was room for all of us,” Dave added.
“Yeah, but it’s not as wild a ride in the middle,” I added.
“True,” said Dave, “there are greater risks on the outside—which is my point tonight. It’s safer when we are in the center—on the merry-go-round and in the Church.
“You’ll find that when you move away from the teachings of the Savior and the prophets, you find yourself taking risks you know you shouldn’t. And then you can suddenly find yourself far away from the Church. And it can be really hard to get back on the ride again once you’re off. Right, Carlos?”
Carlos nodded and brushed a few flecks of sand off his jacket.
Dave opened his scriptures and read from Moroni 10:32 [Moro. 10:32]. “Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of God.”
Dave closed the scriptures. “Being a member of the Church is the greatest blessing in the world,” he said. “This scripture reminds us that if we come unto Christ and do all He has asked of us, we won’t be led astray. And if we stay centered on Him, following the teachings of the Church and the prophets, we won’t be tempted to take the risks that will throw us off the path that leads home.”
I have never forgotten Dave’s lesson. Every year the world seems to move faster and the distractions and temptations are greater, but I know if I stay centered I will avoid the greatest risks.
As Dave reminded me, by staying close to Christ I can overcome anything.
He brushed himself off and ran back to the merry-go-round, but it was spinning too fast to get back on. The four of us, all college roommates, had the thing moving so fast that I was afraid it would spin off its braces and take flight. I guessed we’d break out of the earth’s gravitational pull somewhere near Boise, and I’d never get home for Christmas.
“Is there a point to this?” I yelled at Dave, who was leading our family home evening activity that night.
“Yep. And remember, I buy pizza for whoever stays on the longest,” he called from his position in the middle of the twirling merry-go-round.
Our roommate Brad, however, was standing near the edge of the contraption, and I could see his grip was not that secure. From the ground Carlos saw too and began spinning us until we were moving at particle-accelerator velocity. Finally, Brad slipped and was sucked off like he’d just opened the door of a flying 747. He crashed right into Carlos. The two of them landed on the sand in an awkward heap.
“Okay, I win,” I yelled. “Now stop this thing before I throw up.”
We eventually slowed the ride, and Dave gathered us on one of the park benches to give us his lesson.
“Anyone know why I put us through this merry-go-round exercise tonight?” he asked.
“Mental instability?” Brad guessed.
“A sadistic streak?” I asked. My world was still spinning.
“Thanks, but wrong. Did you notice why Carlos and Brad flew off?” Dave asked.
“Yeah, because you took the middle,” said Brad.
“Actually, there was room for all of us,” Dave added.
“Yeah, but it’s not as wild a ride in the middle,” I added.
“True,” said Dave, “there are greater risks on the outside—which is my point tonight. It’s safer when we are in the center—on the merry-go-round and in the Church.
“You’ll find that when you move away from the teachings of the Savior and the prophets, you find yourself taking risks you know you shouldn’t. And then you can suddenly find yourself far away from the Church. And it can be really hard to get back on the ride again once you’re off. Right, Carlos?”
Carlos nodded and brushed a few flecks of sand off his jacket.
Dave opened his scriptures and read from Moroni 10:32 [Moro. 10:32]. “Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of God.”
Dave closed the scriptures. “Being a member of the Church is the greatest blessing in the world,” he said. “This scripture reminds us that if we come unto Christ and do all He has asked of us, we won’t be led astray. And if we stay centered on Him, following the teachings of the Church and the prophets, we won’t be tempted to take the risks that will throw us off the path that leads home.”
I have never forgotten Dave’s lesson. Every year the world seems to move faster and the distractions and temptations are greater, but I know if I stay centered I will avoid the greatest risks.
As Dave reminded me, by staying close to Christ I can overcome anything.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Friends
👤 Church Members (General)
Apostasy
Book of Mormon
Faith
Family Home Evening
Friendship
Jesus Christ
Obedience
Scriptures
Temptation
Testimony
Seeing with Hands and Heart
Summary: After returning home, Fritz and Elli taught Sunday School for about ten years despite his blindness. Elli recorded lessons and scriptures to tape, and Fritz studied for hours and memorized questions so they could teach together. They were eventually released when his health declined.
After coming home, the Bollbachs served as Sunday School teachers for about ten years. Because Fritz could not read the lessons, Elli recorded the lesson manual and passages of scripture onto a tape. Fritz would then listen to the tape several times and would study with Elli for up to eight hours. “I searched out the questions and had them put on tape,” he says. “Then I learned them by heart so we could teach the class together.” They finally were released when Brother Bollbach became too sick to continue the weekly assignment.
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👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Disabilities
Family
Service
Teaching the Gospel
Ghana:
Summary: Phillip Ohene observed that his Latter-day Saint employer practiced what he taught. This consistent example prompted Phillip to investigate the Church, reinforcing that actions speak louder than words.
The loving example of Ghanaian members has a powerful effect on their friends and families.
Phillip Ohene, now serving as clerk of the Koforidua Second Branch, says his LDS employer “talked to me about the Church through his actions. He would tell me the thing, and I would see him doing it himself.” This example helped Phillip decide to investigate the gospel. In shaping people’s attitudes about the Church, he says, “What they hear is not so important. It is what they see.”
Phillip Ohene, now serving as clerk of the Koforidua Second Branch, says his LDS employer “talked to me about the Church through his actions. He would tell me the thing, and I would see him doing it himself.” This example helped Phillip decide to investigate the gospel. In shaping people’s attitudes about the Church, he says, “What they hear is not so important. It is what they see.”
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👤 Church Members (General)
Conversion
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Employment
Family
Friendship
Kindness
Love
Missionary Work
What’s in It for Me?
Summary: On 9/11, security chief Rick Rescorla ordered and led the evacuation of thousands from the South Tower, personally moving floor to floor despite danger. He reassured colleagues, told his wife he had to evacuate his people, and ultimately died when the tower collapsed, saving many lives.
On September 11, 2001, the twin towers of the World Trade Center in New York City were hit by terrorist-controlled airliners that caused both towers to collapse. Thousands of people were killed. Out of this tragedy have come hundreds of stories of courageous, unselfish acts. One very poignant and heroic account is the Washington Post’s story of retired army Colonel Cyril “Rick” Rescorla, who was working as vice president for corporate security of Morgan Stanley Dean Witter.
Rick was a very experienced ex-military combat leader. He was in his office when “the first plane struck the north tower at 8:48 A.M. … He took a call from the 71st floor reporting the fireball in One World Trade Center, and he immediately ordered an evacuation of all 2,700 employees in Building Two,” as well as 1,000 more in Building Five. Using his bullhorn, he moved up the floors, working through a bottleneck on the 44th and going as high as the 72nd, helping to evacuate the people from each floor. One friend who saw Rick reassuring people in the 10th-floor stairwell told him, “Rick, you’ve got to get out, too.”
“As soon as I make sure everyone else is out,” he replied.
“He was not rattled at all. He was putting the lives of his colleagues ahead of his own.” He called headquarters to say he was going back up to search for stragglers.
His wife had watched the United Airlines jet go through his tower. “After a while, her phone rang. It was Rick.
“‘I don’t want you to cry,’ he said. ‘I have to evacuate my people now.’
“She kept sobbing.
“‘If something happens to me, I want you to know that you made my life.’
“The phone went dead.” Rick did not make it out.
“Morgan Stanley lost only six of its 2,700 employees in the south tower on Sept. 11, an isolated miracle amid the carnage. And company officials say Rescorla deserves most of the credit. He drew up the evacuation plan. He hustled his colleagues to safety. And then he apparently went back into the inferno to search for stragglers. He was the last man out of the south tower after the World Trade Center bombing in 1993, and no one seems to doubt that he would’ve been again last month if the skyscraper hadn’t collapsed on him first.”
Amid the great evil and carnage of September 11, 2001, Rick was not looking for what might be in it for him; instead he was unselfishly thinking about others and the danger they were in. Rick Rescorla was the “right man in the right place at the right time.” Rick, “a 62-year-old mountain of a man cooly [sacrificed] his life for others.” As the Savior Himself said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
Rick was a very experienced ex-military combat leader. He was in his office when “the first plane struck the north tower at 8:48 A.M. … He took a call from the 71st floor reporting the fireball in One World Trade Center, and he immediately ordered an evacuation of all 2,700 employees in Building Two,” as well as 1,000 more in Building Five. Using his bullhorn, he moved up the floors, working through a bottleneck on the 44th and going as high as the 72nd, helping to evacuate the people from each floor. One friend who saw Rick reassuring people in the 10th-floor stairwell told him, “Rick, you’ve got to get out, too.”
“As soon as I make sure everyone else is out,” he replied.
“He was not rattled at all. He was putting the lives of his colleagues ahead of his own.” He called headquarters to say he was going back up to search for stragglers.
His wife had watched the United Airlines jet go through his tower. “After a while, her phone rang. It was Rick.
“‘I don’t want you to cry,’ he said. ‘I have to evacuate my people now.’
“She kept sobbing.
“‘If something happens to me, I want you to know that you made my life.’
“The phone went dead.” Rick did not make it out.
“Morgan Stanley lost only six of its 2,700 employees in the south tower on Sept. 11, an isolated miracle amid the carnage. And company officials say Rescorla deserves most of the credit. He drew up the evacuation plan. He hustled his colleagues to safety. And then he apparently went back into the inferno to search for stragglers. He was the last man out of the south tower after the World Trade Center bombing in 1993, and no one seems to doubt that he would’ve been again last month if the skyscraper hadn’t collapsed on him first.”
Amid the great evil and carnage of September 11, 2001, Rick was not looking for what might be in it for him; instead he was unselfishly thinking about others and the danger they were in. Rick Rescorla was the “right man in the right place at the right time.” Rick, “a 62-year-old mountain of a man cooly [sacrificed] his life for others.” As the Savior Himself said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”
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👤 Other
👤 Friends
Charity
Courage
Death
Emergency Preparedness
Emergency Response
Grief
Jesus Christ
Love
Sacrifice
Service