Gospel Story Finder

Peace McBride, a seamstress’s helper in Philadelphia, is delivering a dress for her mistress, Mrs. Root, when a crowd in front of a large church piques her curiosity. Pushed inside the church by the surging crowd, Peace stays to hear the Prophet Joseph Smith deliver an electrifying sermon. The Holy Ghost reveals to her the truthfulness of the Prophet’s words, and afterward she asks about being baptized. Remembering her errand, she hurriedly delivers the dress, then returns to her mistress to confess her tardiness. Instead of anger, Peace’s mistress rewards her with kindness and has Peace sew while she reads to her from this “new” Book of Mormon.
“I’m sorry,” Mrs. Root said the next morning. “I just don’t think that you should be baptized without your parents’ permission.”
“It will be months before my regular summer visit,” Peace pleaded. “The elders will be gone by then. I might not have another chance to be baptized!”
“I just can’t let you do it. You’re still a child, my dear.”
“I’m twelve years old, old enough to be an apprentice.”
Mrs. Root sat with her head bowed, thinking. “You know, Peace, I promised your parents to take care of you as if you were my own child. If you were my child, I wouldn’t let you join a church that I know so little about.”
“But I know that it’s true,” Peace said earnestly.
Again Mrs. Root looked thoughtful. “How long will the elders be here?”
“I don’t know. I think a week or two.”
“How is the best way to learn about Joseph Smith and to know if he’s telling the truth?” Mrs. Root inquired.
“We could read more of the Book of Mormon together,” Peace suggested eagerly. “If it is true, then wouldn’t the prophet who translated it also be true?”
Mrs. Root smiled.
“Yes, I believe that you’re right. Therefore, I promise to let you be baptized if after we’ve read the Book of Mormon, I’m convinced that it’s true. Does that sound all right?”
“Oh, yes! But can we finish it before the elders leave?”
“We’ll take turns reading while the other works. That means that we’ll have to work twice as fast,” she warned.
“I will.”
From then on, whenever they could, they read aloud to each other from the Book of Mormon. It was slow going for Peace at first, but as they read, her ability increased. They laughed together as they struggled to sound out the new and strange names. They were touched by the hardships that Nephi endured because of his brothers. Their hearts ached at the wickedness of Alma the Younger and his friends, and they rejoiced when an angel helped the young men turn their lives around.
They eagerly read of the Savior’s visit to this new continent. They grieved as they read of Moroni’s sad plight. To be the last one of your people left on the earth! To be hunted by your enemies, never knowing when you would die! That took courage and conviction in what you believed. They wept together as they read Moroni’s last words.
“Mistress Root,” Peace said as they closed the book, “have you prayed about what we’ve read?” Hope filled her heart as she waited for the answer.
“Yes, my dear, but I haven’t had an answer yet.”
“We’ve finished the book now. Will you pray about it again? Surely after what we’ve read, you can see that it must be true. It sounds so much like the Bible. I felt even closer to the Savior as we read about His visit to the Nephites. I wish that I could have been there!”
“Yes. … I, too, begin to feel the truth of it. There is much wisdom in this book. I’ll pray again tonight, I promise.”
In her own prayers that night, Peace pleaded with Heavenly Father to grant Mistress Root’s request to know the truth. As she lay in bed before sleep came, she thought about how happy she was now that she knew her Heavenly Father and His plan for her.
Already up when the excited girl came downstairs the next morning, Mistress Root placed a plate of food in front of Peace, then sat down beside her. “Well,” she asked, her eyes twinkling. “Aren’t you going to ask if I prayed about the book?”
Seeing the glow on her mistress’s face, Peace knew the answer.
“I know that it’s true, dear Peace, and I want to be baptized too.”
On Christmas Eve, Peace followed Sister Root to a spot by the river where a small group of Saints had again gathered for baptism. It was bitterly cold, and fear clutched at the young girl as she thought of the dark, swirling river. Shivering, she remembered that she’d never learned to swim. Standing up straight, she shook off her fear, moved forward toward the river, and stood on the riverbank as Sister Root waded into the water.
When she emerged a few moments later, trembling, but radiant, Peace held out a warm cloak for her.
“Your turn now, Peace,” she said. “And may the Lord bless you for helping me to find such happiness.”
Wading through the slush at the edge of the river, Peace shook as the icy water closed around her. But when she clasped Elder Winchester’s hand, the shivering ceased. He pronounced the baptismal prayer and lowered her into the water. As she came up out of it, a feeling of light filled her from head to toe. She felt so warm that she didn’t even notice the cold as she walked barefoot back through the snow to where Sister Root waited for her with a thick, dry cloak.
In the warmth of the room above the shop, the elders confirmed Sister Root a member of the Church. Then they placed their hands upon Peace’s head, and, through the power of the priesthood, confirmed her a member of the Church and conferred upon her the gift of the Holy Ghost. As they placed their hands on her head, she experienced again that feeling of peace and light. She knew that what she had done was right.
Later, as Sister Root and Peace sat by the warm fireside, Peace felt a desire grow inside her. It was something that she had been thinking about all week. She had the truth, and so did Sister Root. Because they were blessed with that knowledge, they must now share it. “Sister Root,” she began timidly. “I have need to ask something of you.”
“What is it?”
“I’d like to have a few days to visit my family in Chester Springs.”
Sister Root was pensive. Travel was hard in the winter and very expensive, and Peace’s family lived in a distant county. The older woman studied the solemn face before her. “I think that I could spare you for a time. Is something wrong?”
“Oh no,” Peace reassured her. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s wonderful! That’s just it, you see. I need to share my knowledge of the Savior and His gospel with my family. I want them all to hear what I’ve learned.”
Sister Root looked fondly at the girl before her. “It’s not easy to travel now, but I see that you must go. Since you’re set on this, I think I’ll give you your present now, instead of waiting for morning.” Walking over to the cupboard, she took a handkerchief-wrapped bundle out of hiding and placed it in Peace’s hands.
Peace unwrapped the bundle and found several small coins. It would be enough to pay for her trip! Hugging Sister Root, she began to cry. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Tomorrow I’ll start asking around,” Sister Root offered, as she wiped her own eyes. “Maybe someone is going that way. I’d feel better knowing that there was someone to watch over you.”
“Thank you,” Peace said, “from the bottom of my heart.”
A few days later, with a warm coat, a packet of food, and her precious coins, Peace rode a stagecoach to Chester Springs. She found her family and shared with them the story of how she had come to know that the Church was true.
Peace’s parents listened carefully. Her mother cried and her father asked many questions. Peace answered them as best she could and testified of the Book of Mormon and of Joseph Smith. Before long, her parents, too, were convinced.
They agreed to be baptized.
Peace rejoiced when she saw her family enter the waters of baptism, and she felt grateful that Heavenly Father had allowed her to help bring them the gospel. She knew then that the truth she had found was meant to be shared.

After six years of work in Salt Lake City, Joseph was called to the Swiss-German mission and departed in October 1911. Upon arriving in Zurich, Switzerland, he was overwhelmed at the task that faced him. “I was really quite concerned when I saw those big German sentences across the tops of the shops and so forth,” he recalls. “I wondered how I would ever learn that language.” But he absorbed German rapidly, thanks to “the gift of tongues”—along with much prayer, hard work, tracting, and studying. His companion taught him to speak a new sentence every day: first he learned to say, “Bitte lesen Sie dieses” (Please read this) as he handed tracts to German families. “I had more investigators come out to meetings before I could learn the language than afterwards, I think,” he reflected.

Sharee Jones of Richfield, Utah, was receiving initiatory ordinances in the temple on behalf of her deceased sister. She had a spiritual impression that her sister, who had disabilities and died of heart failure at age 17, was not encumbered in the spirit world and would be resurrected with a perfect body. While participating in this temple ordinance, Sharee realized that because of the Savior’s Resurrection, her sister’s body would no longer have restrictions when she was resurrected.
As we participate in temple ordinances, the Holy Ghost can reveal gospel truths in important and sometimes personal ways. Sharee’s experience illustrates one way the Lord’s power can be manifested in the temple, in part fulfilling His words in the Doctrine and Covenants. After the dedication of the Kirtland Temple in 1836, the Lord appeared to the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery and told them, “I have accepted this house, and my name shall be here; and I will manifest myself to my people in mercy in this house” (Doctrine and Covenants 110:7; emphasis added).

When you look at Jason Nicholl’s medical history, it’s no wonder he eventually wants to become a doctor. He’s certainly visited enough of them in his life. Even less surprising is the fact Jason worked as an emergency medical technician before leaving to serve a full-time mission in the Nevada Las Vegas Mission. After being helped for all these years, he figures he needs to start giving back and helping others.
“I’ve always been a klutz. On every Scout campout, I’d do something to hurt myself,” says Jason. Let’s see, there was the time he sliced off the top of his finger while closing a pocketknife. There was the speed-cutting contest where he was chopping with an ax that hit a knot in the log, flew up, and embedded itself in his ankle.
He’d like to remember the time he was night skiing when one of his skis came off, hit him in the face, broke his nose and knocked him out. He spent four days in the hospital, but he’s still a little foggy about that episode.
Besides his nose, Jason has broken two of his ribs, his arm, his hand, and his foot. To this day he can’t tell you how many fingers he’s broken. “Countless,” he says. But as the youngest emergency medical technician for an ambulance company in Salt Lake City, Jason began working toward the goal he’s had since he was six years old. “One day when I was six, I was sitting in front of the TV watching this health channel where they were showing some surgical procedure. It fascinated me,” Jason recalls. “That’s when I decided I wanted to be a doctor.”
Jason knows he has a lot of schooling ahead of him once he returns from his mission. However, he’s already learned much about the body because of the training he has received as an EMT. Many EMTs use their training as stepping-stones to jobs in law enforcement or related medical careers.
In fact, when Jason returns from his mission, he hopes to follow in his father’s footsteps and become a paramedic. While EMTs are trained in basic life support, paramedics know advanced life support techniques and are able to perform emergency procedures EMTs can’t. Jason sees this as the next logical step toward his ultimate career goal.
He knows that after spending two years as a missionary, it will take some time to get his skills back when he returns. But it’s a tradeoff he’s willing to make. “I believe in the gospel and I believe in the work,” Jason says.
Besides, when he gets back he’ll have the rest of his life ahead of him.

On my 25th birthday, I was tidying my bedroom. My space wasn’t in order, and I kept thinking about how my life wasn’t in order either. I wasn’t where I thought I would be at age 25. I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.
I thought about how I felt as a teenager when I got my patriarchal blessing. Whenever I read about my future, I pictured someone who was almost perfect. But I realized I had not grown up to be that person I imagined. And I wondered, If my younger self could see me now, would she be disappointed?
Suddenly I found myself in tears. I felt like I had messed up my life plan. I hadn’t made any catastrophic mistakes, but I also felt like I had nothing to show for my life. I didn’t have a purpose. Everyone else had it all figured out, and there I was, crying on my bedroom floor, feeling like my whole life was a waste.
I felt alone in my confusion and despair. But even at the time, I knew I couldn’t be the only young adult struggling to find their way. As I’ve talked with others, I’ve found that very few people’s lives end up exactly as they planned. And that helps me feel less alone.
I’ve spent a lot of time since that birthday thinking about my purpose. I still haven’t quite figured everything out. But I don’t feel so worried anymore. I know that God knows me and that if I turn to Him, He will help me create meaning in the space I’m in now.

Permit a personal experience for just a moment. Strengthening one’s brother, I think, comes closer to home when we think of fellowshiping and friendshiping our family. Some time ago when my youngest daughter was faced with the reality of attending a different school, she looked forward to the new experience with great anticipation and excitement but with the usual anxieties and concerns. Her mom and dad tried to make her experience meaningful, and one that would be positive, and we spent several hours attempting to prepare her mind for the new experience. We even planned a time when we could shop for new clothes and other special school supplies.
Finally, the long-awaited day arrived. A special evening was planned to help give spiritual comfort and guidance. Later she put her clothes out in anticipation of the next day. As she retired to her bed, seemingly all was well, but about an hour later she appeared at my study door where I was making some preparations.
“Dad,” she said, rubbing her tummy, “I don’t feel very well.”
You know the sign; and I thought I understood it, so I invited her in and sat her on my lap. We put on a little music that we liked to listen to together. I rubbed her tummy, and she soon fell asleep. I took her back upstairs, placed her in her bed, tiptoed toward the door; and she broke the silence with the announcement, “I am not asleep yet.”
I went back and lay down on the bed with her, stroked her head, gave what fatherly counsel one could under the circumstances, and reassured her. Finally she fell asleep. The next morning she appeared at breakfast in her petticoat. She said, “Dad, I don’t think I had better go to school today.”
I said, “Why not?”
She said, “I think I am going to get sick.”
You know what she was trying to tell us, don’t you? I don’t know how to handle a new situation, Dad. Will I make friends? Will my teacher like me? Will I fit into the social group? Will I be accepted? These are the concerns that all of us experience, as we find ourselves in new and different social situations.
She knew what my answer would be and agreed to have me drive her to school. As we got in front of the school building, the warning bell sounded. The tears started to come to her eyes. I got out of the car and assisted her. We walked about ten feet, and she grabbed hold of my leg. It was as though she were a tackle on some football team. And then, as only a child can do to a father, she looked up at me and said philosophically, “Dad, if you really love me—if you really love me—don’t send me in there.”
I said, “Honey, this may be beyond your comprehension, but it’s because I do love you that I am taking you in there.” And I did. When we got inside the door, she grabbed hold of the other leg and held on. Numerous students came and went, and finally the little miracle happened that changed everything.
From I don’t know where came a delightful, wonderful friendshiper, a fellowshiper who knew how to lose herself in serving others; one who would now take the admonishment of the Savior to strengthen her friends. With the exuberance of youth this little girl said, “Kellie, how are you?”
“Fine.”
“What is your home room?” And she told her. “Tremendous. I had that home room last year. Come on, and I will take you to it.”
And before Kellie knew it, she had let go of my leg and got about ten paces away, then realized what she had done. I will never forget her expression and the sermon she taught as she looked back. “Oh,” she said, “Dad, you can go now; I don’t need you anymore.”
Thank God for the little people as well as the big people who know how to friendship and fellowship.

Betsy picked up her teddy bear and hugged him. “Yum, Yum,” she said, “time for bed.” She dressed Yum Yum in a polka-dot nightshirt and put him beside her pillow. “OK, Mommy,” Betsy called. “I’m ready.”
Mommy came in while Betsy said her prayers, then tucked her into bed. “Sweet dreams,” she said as she turned off the light.
“I want the light on, Mommy,” Betsy pleaded.
“But, darling, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll be right there in the living room. Daddy too.”
“But Yum Yum likes the light.”
“All right, honey.” Mom smiled at her and turned the light back on.
Two minutes later all the lights in the house went off. Betsy screamed and clutched Yum Yum. Then she heard Daddy’s voice.
“It’s all right, Betsy,” he said. “Mommy and I are right here.” He scooped her out of bed and carried her to a chair by the window. “Look,” he said, “the lights are out all over town.”
“I’m scared,” Betsy said.
“You weren’t frightened a minute ago when the lights were on, were you?” Daddy asked.
“No, Daddy.”
“Then don’t be frightened now, Betsy. Look out the window and tell me what you see.”
“All I see is the moon and the stars.”
“That’s right,” Daddy said. “And they’re always there. I think that they are God’s way of saying that He’s always there. That’s why we don’t have to be afraid of the dark. Do you understand?”
“I think so, Daddy, but I’m not sure that Yum Yum does,” Betsy said.
Mommy said, “Do you remember the song we sang at Christmas—‘Silent night! Holy night!’? Well, a special star shone that night because it was a special night. I think that all nights are silent and holy, so when we see the stars and the moon, we don’t have to be afraid, because we know that Heavenly Father is watching over us. Now, are you ready to go back to bed?”
“Yes, Mommy. And Yum Yum is too. We aren’t afraid of the dark anymore.”

Last year, my wife received devastating news. Her mother and father were both diagnosed with cancer. A few months later, my own father underwent surgery, and my wife was diagnosed with two breast cysts that could have been cancerous. Thankfully, the results after surgery showed no cancer. Then, our daughter had appendicitis. All of this happened within six months, and none of them had ever had surgery before. At around the same time, I received a new church calling that required extensive travel and time, and my new job kept me working late most nights.
To cope with these challenges, I knew only the Savior could help me through. I tried to draw closer to Him by spending more time studying the scriptures, listening to General Conference talks during my commute, and worshipping in the temple. I chose not to be consumed by worry, but to think celestial and rely on the power of the covenants I had made in the temple. This brought me peace. The Savior has promised, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).

Years ago when I was in business, I learned a very expensive lesson because I did not listen carefully to the counsel of my father, nor did I heed the promptings of the Spirit giving me guidance from my Heavenly Father. My father and I were in the automobile business, and the Ford Motor Company was looking for dealers to sell their new line of cars. Ford executives invited my father and me to a preview showing of what they thought would be a spectacularly successful product. When we saw the cars, my father, who had over 35 years’ experience in the business, cautioned me about becoming a dealer. However, the Ford sales personnel were very persuasive, and I chose to become Salt Lake City’s first—and actually last—Edsel dealer. And if you don’t know what an Edsel is, ask your grandpa. He will tell you that the Edsel was a spectacular failure.

Now, there’s a powerful lesson for all of you in this experience. When you are willing to listen and learn, some of life’s most meaningful teachings come from those who have gone before you. They have walked where you are walking and have experienced many of the things you are experiencing. If you listen and respond to their counsel, they can help guide you toward choices that will be for your benefit and blessing and steer you away from decisions that can destroy you. As you look to your parents and others who have gone before you, you will find examples of faith, commitment, hard work, dedication, and sacrifice that you should strive to duplicate.

Like the Li family, the Wu family has also traced their family line back to the emperor. In doing so, they discovered that the Wu children were part of the 150th generation since the emperor. The story caught the attention of the media, and in 2005, Wilford Wu, then 19, was selected to represent the young people of Taiwan during an annual ceremony at the traditional tomb of the Yellow Emperor.
For the Wu family, members of the Ching Hsin Ward, Taipei Taiwan West Stake, family history has been a family effort. Brother Wu, Chi-Li and his wife, Shirley, did much of the research, and Wilford and his older sister, Camilla, have helped organize it and participate in temple ordinances for more than 3,000 of their ancestors.
Working together has helped bring the Wu family closer together. They say it has also helped them feel a special connection with their ancestors.

“Many summers my family went to Cedar City and stayed on my uncle’s farm. There was no electricity or water in the house, so we carried buckets of water into the house from outside. I experienced farm life as it really was in those days. Now my assignment is with the people in that very same area. It is special to go there—it’s like going home. Some of the people there remember my uncle and aunt and other families I knew.

Great Britain has the world’s most regal (elegant) letter boxes. The tall cylinders stand like palace guards, their scarlet tunics emblazoned with a golden crown and the insignia of the queen. One such letter box stands sentry on Cottam Lane in Preston, in front of Ingol County Primary School. From time to time a pretty eight-year-old girl approaches and reaches high to drop in a letter addressed to Masha Melnikova in Mogilev, Belarus. The sender is Lorna Wilson, a Latter-day Saint, and Masha’s true friend.
Lorna’s father, Christopher, is a software designer who spends much of his spare time working for a charity called Medicine and Chernobyl. This organization provides medical aid for the Belarusian victims of a nuclear disaster in the nearby Ukrainian city of Chernobyl. Each year the charity brings a group of Belarusian children for a month-long visit to England. These children live downwind from Chernobyl, and their resistance to disease has been impaired. A month in a healthy environment helps them rebuild their physical and emotional reserves. Masha was one of these children.
Masha arrived at the Wilson home speaking almost no English. Lorna spoke even less Russian. Still, they managed to communicate with gestures and occasional help from a Russian phrase book. Within a day, somehow, they were best friends. Although Masha had her own room the first night, the two girls’ friendship blossomed so quickly that from the second night on, they chose to share a room. Lorna’s parents had to go in each night and persuade them to turn out the lights. They’d be talking away, drawing, and dressing dolls. Neither learned much of the other’s language, but they understood each other very well. On the morning Masha left to return home, Lorna was so upset that she couldn’t go to school.
That was unusual, because Lorna likes school. A very good student, her favorite subjects are art and math. When her school formed a group called the Troubleshooters from among the most able students, Lorna was the youngest person chosen. The Troubleshooters go to local businesses and help them solve problems. Lorna’s group first went to the Preston office of the Royal Mail. They were given two problems to solve. One was that the staff wasn’t looking at the notice boards. The other was that a stray letter was occasionally left in the bottom of a supposedly empty mail sack. The Troubleshooters went to work and produced many good suggestions, several of which were adopted. In a small way, Lorna was helping to speed her letters from the letter box on Cottam Lane to her friend in Belarus!
“Lorna’s an inspiration to me,” her mother, Helen, says. “I really do try to follow her example. When I go to a parents’ evening at school, her teachers tell me, ‘What can I say? She’s just wonderful!’”
Lorna wants to be either a zookeeper or an artist when she grows up. Whatever she chooses, she will do it well. She likes to do art and sewing, especially cross-stitch, and she always tries to do them perfectly. She has been taking ballet for three years. She also is a Brownie and a skilled Maypole dancer.
The oldest of six children, Lorna sometimes feels frustrated when a little sister wrecks a project or pinches (takes) her crayons. Even so, she loves her little brothers and sisters and takes good care of them. Her mother says, “We’re lucky Lorna is the oldest, because she’s a good example to the others. She isn’t perfect, but she’s very trustworthy, and she helps the others with reading and things like that.” In return, the younger children look up to her. Adam (6) is a football player and a dreamer. He has adopted all the older ladies in the ward. Hannah (5) is a gifted artist with a keen eye for beauty. Abigail (4) has her daddy’s sense of humor and likes to tease people. Sara (2) is sunny and outgoing. Everybody at church wants to take her home with them. Joshua (1) just started walking. He is a charming, happy boy.
The Wilsons are a close-knit family who take drives in the countryside when their busy schedules allow. They also like to play games together. Sometimes for family home evening they play a Book of Mormon game Sister Wilson made. It stretches clear across the floor. For many years they invited an elderly neighbor to each of their family home evenings and adopted him as their granddad. After his death, they began to invite a handicapped man from their ward. “He’s a lovely man with a beautiful spirit,” Sister Wilson says, “but he can’t speak. He has to use a machine to communicate.” The children welcome guests with open arms. At Christmas they invite in anyone they know is going to be alone. The family also goes caroling to some of the elderly people who live nearby.
Seeing firsthand the sorrows of others has helped the Wilson children appreciate their own blessings. When the Belarusian children came, they had very little in the way of clothing, and what they had was threadbare. Their diet in Belarus had been poor too. “We learned not to waste food,” Lorna says, “because some people have hardly anything.”
The family tries to read the Book of Mormon at breakfast each day, although sometimes it’s a struggle. Lorna’s favorite person in the Book of Mormon is Jesus Christ.
Preston and the surrounding areas were the sites of some of the greatest missionary efforts in the history of the Church. In 1837 Elder Heber C. Kimball led a group of missionaries there to begin the work in Great Britain. The Wilsons have stood by the River Ribble, where the first baptisms in Britain took place. They have walked through Market Square, where the missionaries preached. They have visited many places where the Spirit was poured out upon their land. It’s no wonder that they do missionary work whenever they can. They once had the favor returned when a nonmember referred them to the missionaries! One day the sister missionaries knocked on a door around the corner from the Wilsons where some older ladies lived. The missionaries asked them if they were interested in learning about the Church, and they said no.
“Well, do you know anybody who might be?”
“There’s a lovely family around the corner,” one of the ladies answered. “They have lots of children. They’d be good Mormons.”
She was right, of course.

When Israel and Elizabeth Haven Barlow left Nauvoo, Illinois, for the Salt Lake Valley in 1848, they left behind a baby boy buried in a small Nauvoo cemetery. Little James Nathaniel Barlow, their first child, had died shortly after birth in May 1841.
With their departure for the Salt Lake Valley, Israel and Elizabeth likely never expected to gaze again upon their son’s grave. But when Israel was called on a mission to England a few years later, he passed through Nauvoo as he traveled east. At Elizabeth’s request, he stopped to locate their son’s grave and move his remains to the main cemetery, east of town.
After a day of fruitless searching, Israel sought help from the local caretaker. The next day, they found the grave, located next to James’s cousin Mary. Tragically, the coffins were decayed and broken. In a letter to his wife, Israel wrote, “I therefore turned away and concluded that I would leave them there till the future.”
He had not walked far from the grave when he heard a voice. Recalling the experience, he wrote, “It was not audible, but so distinct to my mind that I could not gainsay it: ‘Daddy, do not leave me here.’” Israel returned to the grave, concluding to remove his little boy after all. “I felt a very peculiar calm and peace of mind which before I did not feel. … This much I will say: that I never was more conscious of any duty done in my life.”
On September 2, 1853, Israel Barlow and the caretaker moved the bodies of James and Mary to Nauvoo’s main cemetery, marking the place with “stones at the head and foot of the graves.”
Israel told Elizabeth that as he lingered at the graveside, “I felt a desire to dedicate myself and all that I might call mine into the hands of the Lord, that I might be counted worthy to come forth with [James] in the morning of the First Resurrection.”
After Israel Barlow bade one last farewell to his little boy, he wrote to his wife, “The thoughts of absenting myself far away, never more in life to return to [James’s] grave, wrung the last thread of affection I bore till it was broken with tears on his grave.”
I imagine that more tears—tears of joy this time—were shed on December 4, 1889. On that day, little James Nathaniel Barlow was sealed to his parents in the Logan Utah Temple. By then, Israel had passed away, so others stood as proxy for him and James.

President Heber J. Grant (1856–1945) had a tender heart. He loved to give money and gifts to the people who needed it most.
President Grant hired a typist to work in his office, even though she only had the use of one hand.
She and her husband were poor, and she really needed the job.
With Christmas fast approaching, President Grant wanted to do something more for his typist and her family.
He went home and gathered his children.
“Christmas is coming soon, and I want to bless others the way the Lord has blessed us.”
“Remember how I gave you each money for Christmas last year?”
“Tell me how much money you want for Christmas this year, and I’ll give the same amount of money to my typist!”
On Christmas morning, President Grant went over to the home of his typist.
He gave her family a turkey for Christmas dinner, and gave them several hundred dollars to help pay for their house.
It was a joyful day for the struggling family, and President Grant and his children shared their happiness.
“The true key to happiness in life is to labor for the happiness of others.”
Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Heber J. Grant (2011), 143.

I stared out the car window, watching for a hotel. We had started looking for one when the sun was still up. Now it was getting dark, and we still hadn’t found a place to stay. They were all full!
Just then my sister Katie poked me and pointed out the window. “Look, Eliza. I see one!”
I sat up straighter. My eyes fell on the big, bold letters lit up on the sign: NO VACANCY.
Dad frowned. “That one doesn’t have any empty rooms. We’ll have to try the next town.”
I was starting to worry that we’d never find a place to stay. So I said a quiet little prayer. When I was done, I didn’t feel quite so worried. Somehow things would work out.
Soon Mom spotted another hotel. I looked around at the full parking lot. Would there be room for us here?
“I don’t see a No Vacancy sign. Let’s try it,” Dad said.
“Can I come in with you, Dad?” Katie asked.
Annie and Sarah peeked their heads over the back seat. “Us too?”
“Sure,” said Dad. “How about you, Eliza?” I nodded, and we all piled out and followed Dad across the dark parking lot.
“Aw, no pool,” Annie said, looking around.
When we got to the office, Sarah stretched her hand up to the counter and rang the bell. A lady came to the front desk. She was nice, but she told us that all the rooms were full.
I dragged my feet as we trooped back out to the car. When would Heavenly Father answer my prayer?
“No room again, huh?” Mom asked.
“Nope. But I got to ring the bell!” said Sarah.
“This is starting to feel like Mary and Joseph trying to find somewhere to stay in Bethlehem,” said Mom. “There just isn’t room for us!”
“Don’t worry,” Dad said. “Something will work out. We should say a prayer.”
“I already did,” I said. “Heavenly Father helped Mary and Joseph. He can help us find a place to sleep too.”
“And maybe the next one will have a pool,” Annie added hopefully as Dad started the car.
Soon Dad found another hotel and pulled into the parking lot. My heart jumped. This one might be the answer to my prayer.
“It has a No Vacancy sign,” Dad said. “But I’ll go ask just in case.”
Dad was gone for a long time. By the time he got back, I was nearly asleep. I thought I must be dreaming when I heard him say, “We’ll stay here.”
“Really?” I asked. “What about the No Vacancy sign?”
“The manager said his family owns a nice little camper that’s behind the hotel. He said we could sleep there.”
The camper was old but clean. There wasn’t a lot of room, but everyone had a place to sleep. Mom and Dad shared the bed with Sarah. The table folded down to make another bed for Katie. Annie and I slept on the floor. It was just right. Like the stable was just right for Mary and Joseph and the manger was just right for the new baby Jesus.
Before I fell asleep, I said a little prayer. Thank you, Heavenly Father. Thank you for helping us find a room. It’s perfect.

The youth of the Provo 26th Ward, Provo Utah Grandview Stake, attended a rather unusual youth conference. Starting on Thursday afternoon, the group went to a lodge in a nearby canyon where they had an enjoyable time learning about some of their purposes in life.
The first evening was spent in settling in and discovering that the conference would include activities that reenacted some of the learning experiences of life. After talking about the premortal existence, a member of the bishopric who is a geology professor presented a slide show on the creation of the world. The following morning, each participant was blindfolded and brought down to breakfast, symbolizing birth and entering mortality. After a few games reminiscent of childhood, each person received a mission call. They attended classes on practical skills such as sewing on buttons and car repair, and special classes on learning a door approach and gospel message to deliver. They ended the morning in a cooking class, where they prepared their own lunches.
The afternoon was spent in sessions about dating and etiquette, including role playing and a dating game. This was followed by a class on career planning. A list of chores that needed to be done around the lodge was posted with a monetary value attached to each. The youth jumped into the chores with vigor and were paid in play money. After learning about banking and paying tithing on their earnings, the youth attended a nice dinner, using their best manners, and paid for their meals with the play money they had earned.
The evening concluded with a talk by the stake president on death and the life hereafter. It was followed by a testimony meeting.
After a breakfast cooked by the bishopric, the youth cleaned up the area and returned home still talking about the things they had learned.

As Remembrance Day 2022 approached, a young missionary serving in England Manchester Mission expressed honour at being able to attend Remembrance Day services, in memory of his great-grandfather.
William Inkley (pictured left), who served in the 91st division, U.S. Army, during World War I, witnessed the signing of the armistice. 19-year-old Taylor Inkley (pictured right) told his ancestors story.
“Great-grandad Bill, having spent the voyage on deck due to seasickness, arrived in Liverpool, England, July 17, 1918, with his regiment of mainly Utah boys. He was receiving training in France by July 29 and quickly saw action on September 29, in the Meuse-Argonne offensive. Recording the terror of the trenches, barbed wire and thick French forest undergrowth, the operation degraded Germany’s war efforts. William described being a sniper, hiding in trees to fire at the enemy, then spending hours up to his neck in mud, camouflaged, with only his head visible to breathe. He wondered if he would ever get out alive.”
William was born in 1890 in Salt Lake City. His patriarchal blessing said, “Be ye careful and wise and the missiles of death will pass you by and you will be able to return to your mountain home.” Taylor retells how this was fulfilled.
“While on guard patrol, William stopped to talk to soldiers at their post. They could hear the roar of battle from the front line. My great-grandfather felt a distinct impression to continue on his route. He heeded the prompting and immediately a shell flew overhead, exploding nearby, killing his two comrades. On Nov. 11, 1918, on duty in Belgium, he witnessed the signing of the armistice. In America, Nov. 11 is Veterans Day, but poppies aren’t worn, so I feel honoured to wear one at a service, for those who gave their lives so we could be free.”

Not only will your circle of friends greatly influence your thinking and behavior, but you will also influence theirs. Many nonmembers have come into the Church through friends who have involved them in Church activities. I share with you a treasured family experience which had its beginning back in 1959, when I was called to preside over the Canadian Mission, headquartered in Toronto.

Our daughter, Ann, turned five shortly after we arrived in Canada. She saw the missionaries going about their work, and she, too, wanted to be a missionary. My wife demonstrated understanding by permitting Ann to take to class a few copies of the Children’s Friend. That wasn’t sufficient for Ann. She also wanted to take with her a copy of the Book of Mormon so that she might talk to her teacher, Miss Pepper, about the Church. I think it rather thrilling that just a few years ago, long years after our return from Toronto, we came home from a vacation and found in our mailbox a note from Miss Pepper which read:

“Dear Ann:
“Think back many years ago. I was your schoolteacher in Toronto, Canada. I was impressed by the copies of the Children’s Friend which you brought to school. I was impressed by your dedication to a book called the Book of Mormon.
“I made a commitment that one day I would come to Salt Lake City and see why you talked as you did and why you believed in the manner you believed. Today I had the privilege of going through your visitors’ center on Temple Square. Thanks to a five-year-old girl who had an understanding of that which she believed, I now have a better understanding of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

Miss Pepper died not too long after that visit. How happy our daughter, Ann, was when she attended the Jordan River Utah Temple and performed the temple work for her beloved teacher whom she had friendshipped long ago.

I share a final example that mortality works.
My mother did not have an easy journey through mortality. She received no accolades or worldly honors and did not have educational opportunities beyond high school. She contracted polio as a child, resulting in a lifetime of pain and discomfort in her left leg. As an adult, she experienced many difficult and challenging physical and financial circumstances but was faithful to her covenants and loved the Lord.
When my mother was 55, my next older sister passed away, leaving an eight-month-old baby daughter, my niece, motherless. For various reasons, Mom ended up largely raising my niece for the next 17 years, often under very trying circumstances. Yet, notwithstanding these experiences, she happily and willingly served her family, neighbors, and ward members and served as an ordinance worker in the temple for many years. During the last several years of her life, Mom suffered from a form of dementia, was often confused, and was confined to a nursing facility. Regrettably, she was alone when she passed away unexpectedly.
Several months after her passing, I had a dream I have never forgotten. In my dream, I was sitting in my office at the Church Administration Building. Mom entered the office. I knew she had come from the spirit world. I will always remember the feelings I had. She did not say anything, but she radiated a spiritual beauty that I had never before experienced and which I have difficulty describing.
Her countenance and being were truly stunning! I remember saying to her, “Mother, you are so beautiful!,” referencing her spiritual power and beauty. She acknowledged me—again without speaking. I felt her love for me, and I knew then that she is happy and healed from her worldly cares and challenges and eagerly awaits “a glorious resurrection.” I know that for Mom, mortality worked—and that it works for us too.

I recently had the opportunity to minister to a widowed sister named Franca Calamassi, who is suffering from a debilitating illness. Sister Calamassi was the first member of her family to join the restored Church of Jesus Christ. Although her husband was never baptized, he consented to meet with the missionaries and often attended Church meetings. Despite these circumstances, Sister Calamassi remained faithful and raised her four children in the gospel of Jesus Christ. A year following her husband’s passing, Sister Calamassi took her children to the temple, and they participated in sacred ordinances and were sealed together as a family. The promises associated with these ordinances brought her much hope, joy, and happiness that helped her carry on in life.

When the first symptoms of the disease began to appear, her bishop gave her a blessing. At that time she told her bishop that she was ready to accept the Lord’s will, expressing her faith to be healed as well as her faith to endure her illness to the end.

During my visit, while holding Sister Calamassi’s hand and looking into her eyes, I saw an angelic glow emanating from her countenance—reflecting her confidence in God’s plan and her perfect brightness of hope in the Father’s love and plan for her.25 I felt her firm determination to endure in her faith until the end by taking up her cross, despite the challenges she was facing. This sister’s life is a testimony of Christ, a statement of her faith and devotion to Him.