Gospel Story Finder

It had been an exciting visit, the first one ever made to Samoa by an apostle. Long rowboats decorated with colorful garlands of vines and flowers had met the boat when David O. McKay and Hugh J. Cannon arrived. A Mormon band greeted the rowboats at the wharf and proudly escorted the visitors to a circle where all the chiefs of the island waited to welcome them with speeches and the kava drink ceremony. Then a great feast was enjoyed under a coconut leaf canopy, and many people brought their children and their sick ones to be blessed.

During the next week meetings had been held on the various islands, and now the last morning was to be spent with the children in their school at Sauniatu.

This was May 31, 1921—thirty years before David O. McKay became president of the Church—but he often referred to the day as one of the most memorable of his life. That night he wrote about it in his diary:

“As we came out of the school, we found the people standing in double column from our door out across the lawn to the street.

“Finally, the last little boy crowding around had pressed our hands, so with tear-bedimmed eyes, we walked slowly toward the stream beyond which our horses were waiting. The band on the porch played ‘Tofa, My Feleni’ and the people stood waving their farewell. Before we were ready to start, they gathered around us again, eager to have one more handshake.

“As we rode slowly away, the band leading, the people followed as if they just would not yield to parting. We had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile ahead of them, when I felt impressed to say, ‘I think we should return and leave our blessing with them here in this beautiful grove.’

“As we approached the sobbing crowd, I could not help thrilling with the scene!

“Hanging my folded umbrella on an overhanging limb of a kopoc tree, I dismounted. The sobs of the people were louder than my voice when I began the prayer, but they became more subdued as I continued and their Amene was distinct and impressive at the close.

“Oh, I never will forget you, Samoa e le galo atu.”

Some who were present testified that as the inspired words of the blessing to the people were spoken, a halo of brightness rested upon Elder McKay, and although many in the group could not understand English, they knew what had been said before the Samoan translation was given.

The next year a monument to mark the spot of this event was dedicated on which was written:

“Apostle David O. McKay Stood Just Across the River

And Pronounced a Memorable Apostolic Blessing

Upon the Assembled Sauniatu Saints

A Fitting Climax to a Perfect Visit …”

I would like now to relate one last personal experience in faith that demonstrates these six suggestions.

On July 29, 1977, Sister Cook and I had just finished visiting the Bolivia Santa Cruz Mission and were stalled in the Cochabamba, Bolivia, airport for some five hours. I recall that we were very tired, having had few hours of sleep the night before. We were both delighted to have a few hours rest in the airport. As I was drifting off to sleep, I had a very strong feeling that I should awaken and write down some ideas. The desire to sleep was strong, but the promptings of the Spirit were more powerful. I did write; in fact, I wrote for nearly three hours, solving some organizational problems I had struggled with for a number of years previously. I felt a great outpouring of the Spirit on that day and excitedly wrote down each inspired thought. The experience took most of the time of the delay.

We were then off to La Paz, Bolivia. We were graciously met by President and Sister Chase Allred at the airport and driven in their van to the mission office. We locked the car and left our luggage and briefcase in the van.

Upon entering the office, the president was confronted with the difficult case of a woman whose husband was dying. While President Allred and I assisted with her needs, Sisters Cook and Allred left for the mission home.

When the president and I returned to the van, I realized immediately that all of our goods were gone but assumed that Sister Cook had taken them with her to the mission home. While we were driving toward the home, I discovered that the right front window-wing had been damaged and began to fear that our goods had been stolen.

Arriving at the mission home, we found that our luggage had indeed been stolen. The loss of a substantial amount of money and all our clothing created an immediate but only temporary problem. More disheartening was the fact that my scriptures were in my briefcase along with the inspired ideas I had just received in Cochabamba. The overwhelming sensation of discouragement, anger, and inability to do anything about the situation was overpowering.

My wife and I prayed alone. We prayed with those present. We tried to enjoy our dinner but could not. Who could know of the great loss I personally felt? The scriptures had been given to me as a young man by my parents, a sacred inscription placed in one of them by my mother and in the other by my since-deceased father. I had spent literally thousands of hours marking and cross-referencing (and loving every moment of it) in the only tangible earthly possessions I had ever considered of much value. I had on many occasions instructed my wife that if there were ever a fire in the home, she should first remove the children and then, if there were time, save my scriptures and not worry about anything else.

The president and I had much to discuss as we were to be together only that evening. However, I felt a strong impression that we must do all in our power to recover the scriptures. After supper, all present knelt in prayer once again. We determined to search the immediate area near the mission office and in a nearby field, hoping that the thief or thieves had taken the salable items and discarded the English books.

In the prayer we pleaded that the scriptures would be returned, that the persons who had taken them would be led to know of their unrighteous act and repent, and that the return of the books would be the means of bringing someone into the true church.

Eight to ten of us then loaded into the van with flashlights and warm clothing and drove up to the mission office in the central city. We scoured vacant lots across the street and adjacent streets and alleys; we talked with guards and anyone else we could find and exhausted all possibilities. No one had seen or heard anything. Finally we returned home, dejected, able only to pray individually and wait. President Allred and I worked late into the night to finish our business, and the next day Sister Cook and I flew back to Quito, Ecuador, where we lived.

During the next few weeks, the missionaries searched the lots again. They looked in hedges and garbage cans, searched a nearby park, placed a sign on a wall where the books were stolen, requesting their return, and kept a watchful eye to see if the books might show up in an unexpected place nearby. In sheer desperation, trying to do all in their power, the missionaries decided to place an ad in two daily newspapers, offering a reward and giving explicit information concerning the books.

In Quito, Ecuador, I began a personal spiritual struggle that was a very difficult one for me. After nearly three weeks, I had not studied in the scriptures at all. I had tried on numerous occasions, but every time I read a verse I recalled only a few of the many cross-references I had made over 20 years. I was disheartened, depressed, and had no desire whatsoever to read. I prayed many times expressing to the Father that I had never tried to use my scriptures for any purpose other than glorifying his name and trying to teach others the truths that he had taught me. I pleaded with him to do whatever had to be done in order to have them returned. My wife and little children prayed incessantly for the same blessing. Even after two or three weeks they continued praying every day, “Heavenly Father, please bring back daddy’s scriptures.”

After about three weeks, I felt a strong spiritual impression, “Elder Cook, how long will you go on without reading and studying?” It seemed to me to be a test or a trial and to have something to do with the “cost” of the blessing I desired. The words burned, and I determined that I must be humble and submissive enough to start all over again.

With my wife’s permission to use her scriptures, I began reading in Genesis in the Old Testament, marking and cross-referencing once again.

On August 18, a friend, Brother Ebbie Davis, arrived in Ecuador from Bolivia and laid my scriptures on my desk along with a manila folder that contained the papers that I had written in Cochabamba and some recently prepared mission budgets that were also stolen. He indicated that they were the only things recovered, that he had been given those items by the mission president in La Paz as he boarded the plane, and that he did not know how the books were found, but that I would be told when I arrived there in the next few days to tour the mission.

The joy I experienced in that moment and later that day is indescribable. To realize that my Heavenly Father could, in some miraculous way, lift those books out of the hands of thieves in a city like La Paz and return them intact, not one page removed, torn, or soiled, is still beyond me. How the faith of our family and many Bolivian missionaries was rewarded! That day I promised my Father that I would make better use of my scriptures and my time as instruments in his hands for teaching the gospel.

On Sunday, August 21, I flew to Guayaquil, Ecuador, and on to La Paz, Bolivia, arriving on August 22. Upon arrival I was given the following account:

A lady had been in one of La Paz’s hundreds of marketplaces. She saw a drunk man waving a black book around. She had the strongest spiritual impression that something holy was being desecrated. She approached the man and asked him what it was. He did not know but showed her the book. She asked if he had anything else. He pulled out another black book. She asked if there were more. He removed a folder full of papers that he said he was going to burn. She then expressed the desire to purchase those things from him, to which he agreed, for the price of 50 pesos or about $2.5, U.S. currency.

After the purchase had been made, she felt totally taken back by what she had done. She realized the books and papers were in English—she didn’t speak, read, or understand English—and she had no desire to have any English books. It would have been like one of us paying nearly 10 percent of our monthly income to buy some books in a language we could not read. She immediately began a search for the church that was named in the front of the books. After approaching a number of other churches, she finally arrived at the mission office in La Paz, directed by the hand of the Lord. She had never heard of the reward nor of the ad in the newspaper, which was to appear that very day. She did not ask for any money, not even to reclaim the 50 pesos that she had paid for the books and papers. The elders received the books with rejoicing and paid her the reward anyway.

She told the missionaries that she was associated with a Pentecostal sect, but she listened very intently as they unfolded the gospel to her. She recalled reading something about Joseph Smith from a pamphlet she had picked up in the street two or three years earlier. After their first discussion with her, they reported, “She is a golden contact.” After the second discussion, she committed to baptism. Two weeks later, September 11, 1977, on a Sunday afternoon in La Paz, Bolivia, Sister Maria Cloefe Cardenas Terrazas and her son, Marco Fernando Miranda Cardenas, age 12, were baptized into the true church of Jesus Christ by Elder Douglas Reeder.

Who could describe my deep, discouraging, depressing, disheartening, overpowering feelings of helplessness when the scriptures were lost? Who could describe my great feeling of joy and rejoicing when we saw the power of heaven revealed in this miraculous way? Our Heavenly Father does hear and answer the prayers of his sons and daughters if they exercise faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. The Lord said:

“For verily I say unto you, That whosoever shall say unto this mountain, Be thou removed, and be thou cast into the sea; and shall not doubt in his heart, but shall believe that those things which he saith shall come to pass; he shall have whatsoever he saith.

“Therefore I say unto you, What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them.” (Mark 11:23–24.)

It was in March of 1878 that Aurelia first thought seriously of an organization for children, especially so little boys could be taught “everything good and how to behave.” She wanted desperately to help them and prayed that she might be shown a way. “A fire seemed to burn within me,” she wrote in her history.
A few weeks later Sister Eliza R. Snow went to Farmington to meet with the Relief Society. She and Sister Emmeline B. Wells, who accompanied her, stopped at Aurelia’s home for a brief visit on their way to the depot to board a train back to Salt Lake. Sister Rogers discussed with them her concern over many of the boys, who she felt were not being properly taught the gospel nor the manners that would help them become good men. She asked if an organization to help them would ever be possible. We are told that Sister Snow was “silent for a few moments, then said there might be such a thing and that she would speak to the First Presidency about it.”
At that time John Taylor was president of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and the acting president of the Church, since a president had not yet been sustained by the Church membership after the death of Brigham Young. Sister Rogers talked with President Taylor who discussed the matter with other members of the Quorum of the Twelve, and they were inspired to write to Bishop John W. Hess of Farmington, asking him to call some women to be leaders. Sister Rogers was chosen to be the president. “Up to this period,” she said, “the girls had not been mentioned; but my idea was that the meeting would not be complete without them . …” And so it was agreed.
Louisa Haight and Helen M. Miller were selected as counselors of the new organization to be called “Primary,” a name suggested by Sister Eliza R. Snow. Bishop Hess urged these women to visit every home in the area to invite the children to attend and to obtain their parents’ permission. Sister Rogers reported that they enrolled 112 boys and 112 girls! The children, together with all members of the ward, were asked to attend a public meeting on Sunday, August 11, 1878, when these women, and others, were set apart by Bishop Hess and his counselors to preside over a Primary at Farmington.
Bishop Hess was most helpful, often attending Primary himself or delegating other priesthood holders to do so. In a letter written shortly after the organization of the first Primary, Sister Snow wrote encouragingly:
“I feel assured that the inspiration of heaven is directing you, and that a great and very important movement is being inaugurated for the future of Zion . … The angels and all holy beings, especially the leaders of Israel on the other side of the veil, will be deeply interested.”
Sister Rogers’ records that were so miraculously saved from the fire report that the children were called together for the very first Primary on August 25, 1878. This is how she described the Primaries that followed:
“When they [the children] came to understand the motives which prompted the calling of their little meetings, they seemed elated with what was being done for them. Obedience, faith in God, prayer, punctuality and good manners were subjects oft repeated. At these meetings, the whole association would generally take part in the exercises. The smaller children were seated on the front benches, the rest according to size. At the proper time the smallest would rise up and, perhaps, recite a verse or two in concert, then sit down and the next bench full take their turn in answering Bible questions. Another class would sing a song; another would repeat sentiments or verses, one at a time, and so on.
“… The next spring we rented a town lot and the Primary Association planted beans and popcorn to go with the Relief Society wheat in the time of famine which is to come.”

The greatest Christmas present I ever received came early one Christmas morning. At some point during the night the furnace in our house had gone out, and there was no heat for us on that snowy morning. We huddled in blankets close to the Christmas tree and opened presents. While it wasn’t physically the warmest Christmas ever, it was one of the most memorable, as we spent time together trying to keep each other warm and enjoying each other’s company.
—Kasen Christensen

Two couples who have immigrated to New Zealand from Brazil and Tonga say the BYU-Pathway Worldwide program helped them improve their language, knowledge, and job skills, opening doors to a better life and new hope for their families’ futures.
Andressa Develis and her husband, Andre, of Birkenhead, and Mosese and Ralueri Unga of Totara Vale, are two examples of how BYU-Pathway benefits working individuals and couples. They say the ability to tailor the learning experience to student needs is a significant advantage of this online education program.
Meanwhile, the Ungas moved to New Zealand from Tonga with plans to attend university. In church one Sunday, they overheard a conversation about BYU-Pathway and were intrigued by the low tuition fees and the ability to work while studying.
“My husband has a passion for carpentry and automotive work, and I had studied travel and tourism here in New Zealand but decided not to pursue it,” Ralueri said. “We saw BYU-Pathway as an opportunity to explore business studies.”
Mosese added that when he first came to New Zealand, many companies wouldn’t hire him for better jobs due to his lack of necessary credentials.
“I found a job in the scaffolding business because no one else would hire me,” he said. “I wanted to study, but education was too expensive due to my visa status.”
“Since my wife was already enrolled in BYU-Pathway, I decided to join as well,” he said.
The Ungas started their first semester together in 2020 and quickly progressed through their programs. Mosese completed his BYU-Pathway certificates in July 2021 and continued online courses with Brigham Young University-Idaho.
“I’m pursuing a bachelor’s degree in professional studies, which involves three certificates: auto service technology, computer support, and computer-aided design and drafting,” he said.
Meanwhile, Ralueri said BYU-Pathway helped her chart a course that could lead to the couple working together. “While my initial career path was in travel and tourism, BYU-Pathway allowed me to pivot toward a different future—one where we might eventually run our own business.”
“I have my associate of applied science degree in applied business management, and I’m currently in my last few semesters towards completing a bachelor of applied business management with Brigham Young University-Idaho in December,” she said.
Both currently hold full-time jobs—Ralueri with a bank and Mosese working for a home improvement retailer. Along with their current classes through BYU-Idaho, they also serve as service missionaries facilitating a BYU-Pathway class and attend once-a-week in-person gatherings teaching religion classes and helping other BYU-Pathway students with their educational journey.
“We often get asked how we manage it all, and our answer is simple: prayer and faith guide us through every step,” Mosese said. “It’s been quite a journey, and we’ve learned to manage our time more effectively.”
“You pray for help and somehow the Lord makes that time work out. Even though you only have 24 hours, time just seems to expand,” he said. “I don’t know how it happens, but He helps everything just fit in.”

“When I was 18, as I was preparing to serve a mission, my bishop called me to teach the Sunbeams. I had never before learned to love others more than myself until I had served those children in such a simple assignment. …

“One day I invited Mike to come to church and sit in my class. Mike was my age but had stopped attending church completely by the time he was 12. … Once in a while Mike would accept my invitations to come to an activity. It always surprised me when he did, so I kept inviting him.

“At that time, Mike had long, black hair and a beard. His complexion was dark and pleasant. I don’t remember when I invited him to my Primary class, but one day he showed up.

“Class, I would like to introduce you to my friend Mike,” is how I began my lesson. “He is visiting us today.”
Read the rest of “The Visitor,” by Ken Merrell, in the May 2000 New Era.

All of us have had the experience of noting in the countenances of people the effects of sin. It is obvious—it can be observed—and it is heartbreaking. A few years ago my wife and I had the privilege of serving a mission in Texas. As we returned from visiting a stake in the eastern part of that state, we stopped at a café for lunch. We took places in a booth and began to order our meal, but were annoyed by the conversation in the booth next to ours. In that booth was a very ugly and very dirty woman. The smoke billowed around her, her language was foul, and her treatment of the people who were attending her was very abusive. It became so annoying to us that we decided to leave; but as we were getting up to do so, she left. She was in a wheelchair, apparently crippled. Since she had gone, we settled back and finished our meal. When it was over we went up to the register to pay the bill and were shocked to see her behind the counter; she owned the place. As we paid the bill we looked behind her and saw on the wall a lovely, almost life-size portrait of a very beautiful young girl. We studied that picture as we waited for her to give the change, and I noticed a similarity between her eyes and the eyes of the girl in the painting. I asked the old woman if the picture was of her, and she replied proudly that it was indeed a picture of her during her youth. In questioning her further, we discovered that she was somewhat near my wife’s age. But it was heartrending to note how her beauty had been spent and lost through sin. It was obvious that she had abused her divine mintage and that she was bogged down with sin.

I am an 18-year-old exchange student in Mexico, and I really have to thank you for the New Era. I always get it on time—in more ways than one, come to think of it, because it always answers a current problem or doubt.
Practically everything in the September issue held a special meaning for me. The Mormonad inspired me to share the gospel with some friends, especially some other exchange students who were starved for English reading material. Soon my New Era began making the rounds, closely followed by tracts and visits to the local LDS chapel.
Needless to say, October’s missionary issue really came in handy. One special friend has continued attending Church with me regularly and taken the missionary discussions.
November’s article “Self Denial” was extremely appropriate since it was a big temptation to spend Sunday afternoons going to parties or picnics with my friends instead of going to Church.
December’s issue taught me with new clarity what living the gospel means. It’s not something to be thought of once a year but an integral part of our lives. That issue really helped me through the Christmas season. I’ve thanked Heavenly Father hundreds of times for the New Era and my mother for the subscription she was inspired to send me here in Mexico.
Edna F. GuzmanSaltillo, Coahuila, Mexico

Many nights my choice is between doing scripture study or homework first. On those nights when there is too much to do, I get a little prompting to put away the homework, put my faith in the Lord, and spend my more awake time in the scriptures. It is pretty safe to say that every time I have chosen to study spiritually first, the Lord has made sure my other work was taken care of on time.Michelle Nielson, 17Basin City Second Ward, Pasco Washington Stake

Frederick the shoemaker liked to make shoes. He liked to make dancing slippers for young ladies and work shoes for farmers. He liked to make school shoes for children. And he liked to make house shoes for their mothers. But most of all he liked to make hunting boots for young gentlemen.
As he carefully stitched each boot, Frederick would say to his wife, “Someday I will make myself a pair of boots like these.”
But the young shoemaker never even had enough money to make new shoes for himself, much less a pair of hunting boots. Once in a while, however, he made himself a new pair of shoelaces out of leftover scraps to wear in his old shoes.
“A shoemaker should have more than new shoelaces,” he said one day. “A shoemaker should have a new pair of hunting boots!”
“But how can we afford them?” asked his wife. “With the little money we have, we must buy food to eat, candles to light the house at night, and new leather to make more shoes to sell.”
“I know. But only shoelaces! It isn’t right.” He sighed, then worked in silence for a few minutes. “Maybe,” he said at last, “maybe if I’m careful, I can save a wee bit of money here and there. And then maybe someday I can have more than just new shoelaces.”
And so Frederick saved two small coins from every pair of shoes he sold. He began burning one candle on his workbench at night instead of his usual two candles. He saved even more by drinking two glasses of milk a day instead of his usual three glasses.
At last Frederick had saved enough money to buy leather for a pair of hunting boots for himself. At night, by the light of his candle, he stitched and sewed. Finally the boots were finished. “These are the most handsome boots I have ever made,” he said to his wife. He put on the new boots and tucked his old shoes into the back of his closet.
The shoemaker loved his new boots. He wore them around the shop every day, and he wore them hunting on Saturdays. As a matter of fact, he wore them for years and years.
At last they wore out. Frederick turned the boots over and over in his hands. I think there might be enough good leather here to make some work shoes, he thought.
So he cut and snipped, and he stitched and sewed, until at last his work shoes were finished.
Frederick was almost as proud of his new work shoes as he had been of his boots. He wore them around the shop every day, and he wore them to church on Sundays. As a matter of fact, he wore them for years and years.
At last they, too, wore out. Frederick turned the work shoes over and over in his hands. I think there might be enough good leather here to make some house slippers, he thought. So he cut and snipped, and he stitched and sewed, until at last his house slippers were finished.
The shoemaker was almost as proud of his new slippers as he had been of his boots and his work shoes. He wore them in the shop all day, and he wore them while he sat in front of his fire at night. As a matter of fact, he wore them for years and years.
At last they, too, wore out. Frederick turned the slippers over and over in his hands. I think there might be just enough good leather here to make one more thing, he thought. So he cut and snipped, until at last a pair of shoelaces was finished.
Then he reached way back into his closet and pulled out his old shoes. He cleaned and polished them and put in the new shoelaces. The shoemaker was happy with these new shoelaces because he remembered the handsome hunting boots and the sturdy work shoes and the comfortable house slippers they had once been.
And he wore those shoelaces forever.

October 9, 1846—Sugar CreekA miracle in camp today. We have been living on parched and boiled corn, and drinking muddy river water. Many are ill and all are hungry, but today, flocks of quail suddenly flew into camp, falling on wagons and tables. My brothers were able to catch many in their hands! We had a feast. God has not forgotten us. Our rescuers taught us a new song written by Brother Clayton. The song reflects well how I feel today: “All is well!”

Q: The psychology of the other player intrigues me. Do you study them and then change your style for different players?
Freed: Oh, yes. You always want to find your opponent’s weaknesses and play to them. I’ll admit that there’s a certain amount of gamesmanship in tennis. For instance, once I was playing a champion, a fine player. I knew only one thing about him: he was a stereotype player who never varied his style. So when he was serving to me, I would move around and leave a great big hole on my forehand or my backhand. Then just as he’d start to wind up, I’d jump over and close the hole. He didn’t like that; it got on his nerves and hurt his game, and I beat him. I think I beat him because I was a little more flexible. This is just part of tennis. If I play with an opponent who has a weak backhand, I hit everything I can to his backhand.

I testify that one right decision can bring about a multitude of blessings. That has been my experience. Up until I was 18, good choices were hit and miss, mostly miss. At 20, while many small decisions led up to it, against all odds, I decided to serve a mission. That was the turning point for me. In His tender mercies, the Lord plucked me out of darkness and sent me on a mission to Korea. I left an entire family who was less than less active. You heard the story of my mother's return. The same happened to my entire family. They all came back to Church and entered the temple, partly because of my decision to serve a mission. Only the Lord could do that. I am eternally grateful. Now, I'm trying to keep my commitment to be and do whatever the Lord commands.

Let me share a personal experience I had in which the Lord’s hand was clearly manifest. Several years ago I took a trip with my family to Mesa, Arizona. We enjoyed renewing acquaintances, getting caught up on everyone’s lives, and spending time in the swimming pool, a necessity on a summer day in Mesa. My two-and-a-half-year-old nephew Ryan was afraid of the water, so his mom spent one morning in the pool with him trying to get him to overcome his fear. During the time he wasn’t learning to swim with his mother, my two-and-a-half-year-old son was teaching him how to maneuver himself over the locked fence that protected the swimming pool. After spending some fun time in the pool, we retired to the house to eat and relax.

I was enjoying reading a book in the living room. After reading for some time, I took a short break and just sat in the reclining chair enjoying my time away from work. While I was relaxing I had the distinct impression that I should go look in the swimming pool. I thought to myself, “That is strange; no one is currently swimming in the pool.” But fortunately, I followed the prompting and got up out of my chair. I looked out the kitchen window and noticed that there were waves in the pool. The thought again came to me that it was strange for there to be waves in the pool, since no one was swimming. I went outside to check things out more closely, and as I went out the door, I could see a small body floating in the pool. I ran to the side of the pool and saw Ryan, a couple feet from the edge of the pool, floating lifeless in the water. I immediately grabbed him, pulled him out of the water, and began administering CPR. Interestingly, about two weeks prior to our trip, I had just completed a Red Cross CPR refresher course offered at my work.

After a few breaths into Ryan’s lungs, he spit up a significant amount of water and started breathing again. I yelled to some of the kids playing nearby to call 911. They ran in the house and frantically told my wife to call 911. Within a matter of minutes the paramedics had arrived and started Ryan on oxygen and an IV. Shortly thereafter, a helicopter landed in the street next to the house and whisked Ryan off to the hospital. As a family we knelt in prayer and asked for the Lord’s blessings to be with Ryan. We didn’t know at that time what would happen to him. However, after we ended the prayer, a sweet, peaceful spirit settled in upon us. I knew at that time that he would be fine. To all of us present that day, there was no question but what the Lord was with us.

Where was the Lord’s hand more plainly manifest in this event? Was it the fact that modern medicine had advanced to the point that the doctors and paramedics could treat Ryan such that he would fully recover? Was it the fact that we could fly a large metal object through the air, maneuvering around trees and powerlines, land it in the street, then fly it to the hospital? Or was it the still small voice of the Spirit that made the rest of these miracles possible? I personally see the hand of the Lord in all of these things and have thanked Him numerous times for His loving kindness and mercy in this event.

Often times when things go wrong in people’s lives, they ask, “Why me, God?” I have found myself asking that question relative to this situation. “Why me? Why was I blessed with this wonderful experience? Why did the Lord see fit in His infinite wisdom to touch my life with this sweet outpouring of His spirit?” I don’t know all of the answers, but as I have contemplated the happenings of that day, a couple of things have come to my mind.

First, I was available. The other people in the house at that time were preoccupied with making meals, cleaning, etc., and were caught up in doing the chores of this life. The things they were doing were good things, but they were concentrating so much on their work that they were less available to the Spirit.

President Boyd K. Packer stated it this way:
The Spirit does not get our attention by shouting or shaking us with a heavy hand. Rather it whispers. It caresses so gently that if we are preoccupied we may not feel it at all.21
Second, I firmly believe that the Lord, for whatever reason, just wanted to share with me one of His tender mercies. I have looked back on this experience many times in my life as a reminder that He truly is there, that He truly does care for me, and that He is genuinely interested in me. This experience has been a foundational spiritual experience that has helped me weather many of the storms of life I have faced since that day. I don’t know all of the answers to “Why me?” but whatever the reasons may be, I am eternally grateful to know that a loving Father in Heaven is there to help us—personally and individually—when we need that help.

One winter was particularly bad for the Young family, and in early March they found themselves without food. John sent his two older boys, Phineas and Joseph, to find work anywhere to exchange for food, corn, or whatever, and he kept Brigham and Lorenzo in the cabin with him.
John Young had tapped the maple trees on his farm and boiled down the sap and made maple sugar. As they finally came to the end of their food supply, he told Brigham he was going to exchange the sugar for food. He said, “Now you stay here, Briggy, and tomorrow morning get out and work all day clearing the brush and chopping what you can. And Lorenzo, you stack the brush. It’ll take me all night and tomorrow to get there and back, but I’ll be back the next day.”
So early that next morning, strapping on his snowshoes and leaving about 300 grams of sugar for the two small boys to eat as best they could, he put on his pack and left.
Brigham and Lorenzo worked all that day, as they had promised they would, and at about four o’clock they started for home. As they were walking along they heard a robin sing. They stopped and finally located the robin on a bush some forty or fifty meters away. Brigham said to Lorenzo, “Now you watch. I’ll run around and get the gun ad we’ll have some supper.” So he circled around to the cabin and got the gun and ran back.
The gun must have weighed nearly seven kilograms, but Brigham managed to aim it. He pulled the trigger and shot it. They ran over and got the bird, skinned it and cleaned it, went to the cabin, and put the bird in a kettle on the fireplace with a little water and began to cook it. They tipped the flour barrel and beat on the bottom, catching what they could in the pan, and managed to get half a cup of flour. They thickened the stew with that and had bird stew and sugar for supper. The next night, John returned home bringing some corn meal and pork, and they were able to survive.

I began seeking for ways that I could teach “The Living Christ” to our children. I recognized that they were young (our oldest was 11) and that this precious document was rather lengthy. But I had a desire, and after I prayed and thought about it often, the Spirit showed me how I could teach my family.
I had long collected pictures cut out of old Church magazines. I went to the box where I kept them and started pulling out pictures that seemed to match the different phrases in “The Living Christ.” For instance, for “He was the Great Jehovah of the Old Testament,” I found a picture of Christ, as Jehovah, talking with Moses. For the next phrase, “Under the direction of His Father,” I found a picture of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ standing together. Within a short time, I had gathered many pictures and paired them with their associated text from “The Living Christ.”
December seemed the perfect time for our family to start focusing on “The Living Christ.” Our children were excited and really got into our endeavor. We posted the pictures we were working on in our kitchen. I noticed that during the day, the kids would say the phrases as they passed by the pictures. When everyone had memorized the set of pictures on the wall, we put them away and started working on a new set.
With each picture, we discussed the gospel and life of Jesus Christ. Our family home evening lessons were filled with stories and lessons about the Savior. My husband taught some of the concepts in “The Living Christ,” bringing new insights.
Family prayers became more meaningful because the children gave more thought to Him in whose name they were praying. The Spirit filled our home. We felt like Nephi when he wrote, “We talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ” (2 Nephi 25:26). Our home became a place of greater peace.

In standing up for Church standards, sometimes it’s possible to turn opponents into allies. When she started at her school, Carina Schultes was bullied and put down by others. “They couldn’t accept that I had my religion, my standards, that I didn’t smoke, didn’t drink alcohol. At first they couldn’t cope with it, but luckily after four years they accepted it so they thought it was really cool and really supported me and got others to leave me alone.”

When I was a child, I played the violin. I wanted it to sound pretty. I wanted to play for my parents and have them say, “Oh, Joy, that’s beautiful!” But it didn’t sound beautiful. It squeaked!
Sometimes when I didn’t practice, my teacher would say, “Joy, did you practice this week?” It made me want to practice so I could play better the next week.
Looking back, playing the violin was a good experience because it was hard. Even though I didn’t always like practicing, I learned so much from setting a goal to practice a little bit every day.

Sometimes we create contention in the Church by being insensitive to other people’s feelings. While serving as a missionary I was called to work in the mission home. Each morning it was my duty to teach a class in theology to all the missionaries there. One morning an elderly sister, just arrived in the mission, joined us for the class. During the discussion she objected to a concept I was teaching and even wanted to argue about her point. I was able to quickly prove her wrong. Then the Spirit of the Lord touched my soul and I noticed the hurt expression on her face. A question rushed through my mind: “What right did I have to be a missionary when I was so insensitive and unthoughtful to one of my sisters?”
At the end of the class I hurried to the mission library. For 1 1/2 hours I searched to find something to agree with what this sister had said. Finally I found a statement that supported her view. Delighted with my find, I now faced the challenge of my life. I had embarrassed her in front of all the missionaries; I now needed to repent in front of all the missionaries.
As we knelt at the breakfast table I asked President Banker if I could take a few minutes before prayer was offered. I then turned to this dear sister, apologized for what I had just learned a great lesson; if we let pride stop us from doing what is right, we can miss some of life’s greatest joys.
That morning the prayer seemed to be more pure. Life was exciting, and I was extremely happy. After breakfast this sister came to me and thanked me again. Repentance had followed contention, and peace of mind was the result.

In contrast, President Heber J. Grant said of Hyrum Smith: “There is no better example of an older brother’s love than that exhibited in the life of Hyrum Smith for the Prophet Joseph Smith. … They were as united and as affectionate and as loving as mortal men could be. … There never was one particle of … jealousy … in the heart of Hyrum Smith. No mortal man could have been more loyal, more true, more faithful in life or in death than was Hyrum Smith to the Prophet of the living God.”

He responded to every need and request from his younger brother, Joseph, who led the Church and received the revelations which we have today. Hyrum was steadfast day to day, month by month, year in and year out.

After their brother Alvin’s death, Hyrum finished building the white frame home for their parents. After Joseph had received the golden plates, Hyrum provided the wooden box to store and protect them. When the plates had been translated, Joseph entrusted Hyrum with the printer’s copy of the manuscript. Hyrum, often accompanied by Oliver Cowdery, carried pages to and from the typesetter daily.

Hyrum worked as a farmer and laborer to support his family, but after the Church was organized in 1830 he accepted the call to preside over the Colesville Branch. He took his wife and family and went to live with the Newel Knight family, spending much of his time “preaching the gospel wherever [he] could find any who would listen.” Ever a good missionary, he not only preached near his home but also went to the eastern seaboard and southward in the United States. In 1831 he went with John Murdock to Missouri and back, preaching along the way.

When the construction of the Kirtland Temple was envisioned in 1833, Hyrum immediately took his scythe and cleared weeds from the temple site and began digging the foundation. In 1834 when Zion’s Camp was organized, Hyrum assisted Lyman Wight in recruiting members of the camp and led a group of Saints from Michigan to Missouri.

Being thus proved in the little things, Hyrum became an Assistant President of the Church in December of 1834. He served under the direction of his younger brother, the Prophet Joseph. He was ever a source of strength and comfort to his brother, whether in Church service or in the Liberty Jail. As persecutions came and Joseph fled the mob at Nauvoo in 1844, Hyrum went with him. As they stood on the bank of the river, contemplating whether to return, Joseph turned to Hyrum and said, “You are the oldest, what shall we do?”

“Let us go back and give ourselves up and see the thing out,” Hyrum replied.

They returned to Nauvoo and were taken to Carthage, where they died as martyrs within minutes of one another. Hyrum had been faithful to his trust even to the laying down of his life. In all respects he was a disciple of the Savior. But his day-to-day striving made him truly great. In contrast, Oliver Cowdery was great when handling the plates and being attended to by angels, but when called upon to faithfully endure day-to-day trials and challenges, Oliver faltered and fell away from the Church.