Gospel Story Finder

Now, to a different but related matter.
Last April in our priesthood meeting, I announced a new program. I spoke of the large numbers of our missionaries from South America, Mexico, the Philippines, and other areas. They respond to calls and serve with their North American brothers and sisters. They develop strong testimonies. They learn a new way of life. They are highly effective because they speak their native tongues and know the cultures of their native lands. They enjoy a wonderful season of hard and dedicated work.
Then they are released to go back home. Their families are living in poverty, and many of them fall back into the same situation from which they came, unable to move because of a lack of skills and the consequent difficulty in finding good employment.
I spoke to you of the Perpetual Emigration Fund, which was established in the pioneer era of the Church to assist the poor in coming from England and Europe. A revolving fund was established from which small loans were made, which made it possible for 30,000 to emigrate from their native lands and gather in Zion.
I told you we would apply the same principle and create what would be known as the Perpetual Education Fund. Out of the funds which would be donated by our people, and not from tithing funds, we would create a corpus, the earnings from which would be used to assist our young brethren and sisters in attending school to qualify themselves for better employment. They would develop skills whereby they could earn sufficient to take good care of their families and rise above the poverty level that they and their prior generations had known.
We had nothing in the fund at the time it was planned. But moving forward in faith, we established an organization, modest in its dimensions, to implement that which we felt was necessary. I am pleased to report that the money has come in, tens of thousands of dollars, hundreds of thousands of dollars, even millions. This has come from generous members of the Church who love the Lord and wish to assist the less fortunate of His people in rising in the economic world. We now have a substantial sum. It is not all that we need. We hope that these contributions will continue. The size of the corpus will determine the number who can be helped.
Now, six months later, I wish to give you a report of what has been accomplished. First, we called Elder John K. Carmack, who served so well in the First Quorum of the Seventy and who became an emeritus Seventy with this conference. He is an accomplished attorney, a man of sound judgment in business, a man of great ability. He has been appointed managing director, and though he is retired from the work of the Seventy, he will give his full time to the prosecution of this endeavor.
Elder Richard E. Cook of the Seventy, who likewise has become emeritus, will join him in looking after the finances. Elder Cook was formerly assistant controller of the Ford Motor Company, a man experienced in worldwide finance, a most capable executive, and a man who loves the Lord and the Lord’s children.
We have worn out these brethren on one side, and now have turned them over to wear them out on the other side.
They have associated with them Brother Rex Allen, an expert in organization and training, and Brother Chad Evans, who has vast experience in programs of advanced education.
All contribute their time and expertise without compensation.
The program is up and running. These brethren have been very careful to get it off to a proper start with sound governing principles. We have restricted the area in which it will operate initially, but this area will be expanded as we have the means to do so.
These brethren have gone to work to utilize the existing organization of the Church. The program is priesthood based, and that is why it will succeed. It begins with the bishops and the stake presidents. It involves the Church Educational System, the Employment Services offices, and others who work together in a marvelous spirit of cooperation. It was first implemented in Peru, Chile, and Mexico—areas where the number of returned missionaries is large and the need is great. The local leaders have been enthusiastic and committed. The beneficiaries are learning true principles of self-reliance. Their vision of their potential is greatly broadened. They are selecting good local schools for training and are using, to the extent possible, their personal, family, and other local resources. They are appreciative and willing and deeply grateful for the opportunity afforded them. Let me give you two or three vignettes.
The first is that of a young man who served in the Bolivia Cochabamba Mission. He lives with his faithful mother and nieces in a poor neighborhood. Their little home has a concrete floor, one lightbulb, the roof leaks, and the window is broken. He was a successful missionary. He says:
“My mission was the best thing that I have been able to do in my life. I learned to be obedient to the commandments and to be patient in my afflictions. I also learned some English and to manage my money, my time, and my skills better.
“Then, when I finished my mission, going home was difficult. My American companions went back to a university. But there is a lot of poverty in our country. It is very difficult to get an education. My mother does her best, but she can’t help us. She has suffered so much, and I am her hope.
“When I learned of the Perpetual Education Fund, I felt so happy. The prophet recognized our efforts. I was filled with joy. … There was a possibility I could study, become self-reliant, have a family, help my mother.
“I will study accounting at a local school where I can study and work. It is a short course, just three years long. I have to keep working as a janitor, but that is OK. Once I graduate and get a job in accounting, I will work toward higher education in international business.
“This is our opportunity, and we cannot fail. The Lord trusts us. I have read many times in the Book of Mormon the words the Lord told the prophets, that as we keep the commandments, we would prosper in the land. This is being fulfilled. I am so grateful to God for this great opportunity to receive what my brothers and sisters did not have, to help my family, to accomplish my goals. And I am excited to repay the loan to see others be so blessed. I know the Lord will bless me as I do it.”
Now, isn’t that wonderful? Now another. A young man in Mexico City was approved to receive a loan of approximately $1,000 to make it possible for him to attend school to become a diesel mechanic. He has said: “My promise is to give my best in order to feel satisfied with my efforts. I know this program is valuable and important. Because of this, I am trying to take maximum advantage of this for the future. I will be able to serve and help the poor and help counsel my family members. I thank my Father in Heaven for this beautiful and inspired program.”
A loan was recently approved for another young man from Mexico City, who served in the Nevada Las Vegas Mission. He desires to become a dental technician. His training will require 15 months of dedicated work. He says, “My promise upon finishing my studies at the technical school with the help of the Perpetual Education Fund is to repay the loan so that other returned missionaries can enjoy these blessings.”

Since neither she nor Pa had ever been to a grade school, it was Pa’s dream that we should get an education. His dream became Ma’s fixed goal. “If we all work hard, the way will be opened up,” she maintained.
When mining boomed at Silver Reef, I got a job on the pony mail route. My sisters wanted to work at the “reef” too, but Ma put her foot down.
“A mining town is no place for girls,” she said. “We will pray a little harder and think a little harder and we will make work for ourselves at home.”
Ma found joy in working. She was manager of the little one-room co-op store in our town, and the girls took turns clerking. They also took in sewing and all of us dried grapes and peaches by the ton. Still, the savings account to go away to school was small.
After a while lovers came courting and my three older sisters married.
Still concerned about her goal, Ma said, “Now is the time for the rest of you to go to school.”
“We haven’t enough money,” Kate insisted.
“The Lord will provide,” soothed Ma.
So that fall we packed our bottled fruit in the bottom of the wagon and arranged our bedding and supplies over it, leaving Mary and her husband in charge at home. On top of the load was a sack of washed sheep’s wool. For the thirteen days that the horses plodded toward Provo, LaVern and Evadna picked trash from the wool, Ma carded and spun it into yarn while Kate and Annie knitted our winter stockings, and I drove.
Sometimes the littlest girls got awfully tired and I felt sorry for them, but Ma said, “Only after we have done all that we can will the Lord take over.” However, the miles were shortened considerably when we sang songs like “Swinging in the Lane,” and “Daisies Won’t Tell.”
At Provo the house we rented had more rooms than we needed, and by the time we furnished it, our money was gone. After years of working and planning, we were starting school practically penniless.
“Ma,” I said, “do you think we’re doing right? It’s mostly your spunk that’s keeping us here.”
“Not spunk, faith!” she corrected. “We’re doing what Pa would want us to do. Now get busy all of you and make this place look like home. I’m going to the academy to see President Cluff.”
Before she left we knelt in prayer. As I led, I put my question before the Lord. “If it is right for us to stay, please give Ma the answer when she talks to President Cluff.”
She never had the chance to talk to him at the academy. When President Cluff saw her coming, he rushed to the door and hurried her back home to receive three young men he had just sent to board with us. After that we had all the boarders we could handle.

I remember years ago I was visiting a branch of the Church in Savannah, Georgia. I was taken to the Relief Society with my wife for lunch. I said, “My, you have a big Relief Society. How many members do you have in the Savannah Branch?” She said, “Well, about 40 sisters.” I said, “There’s a lot more than 40 here this morning.”

“Yes,” she said, “there are 84 here this morning.”

I checked and found out many were investigators and friends of members, all being “worked” and fellowshipped into the community of the Church. Fellowshipping is particularly effective with many of our part-member families.

The average stake has, say 450 prospective elders. About 60 percent are married to nonmember wives. So that’s about 300 nonmember wives. Now, we also have many member women who have married nonmember husbands—let’s say 150. And so, you have 450 or so part-member families. Add the children and you have another 100. That presents a lot of eligible people to be taught by the full-time and stake missionaries, uniting the families, and helping them get to the temple.

I’m a great believer in the power of teaching in groups. But I would not just toss any of these 450 nonmembers and their partners together without thinking and praying about it and making some divisions, grouping the younger-aged couples together, the middle-aged together, the more elderly together. I would subdivide even further. Just because a person is young or old doesn’t mean he is interested in anyone his age—what about educational and vocational and personal interests? Prayerful grouping and teaching of these families in companionable groups results in marvelous things.

Where I have found this most successful, it was because a member of the stake presidency or a high councilor called and said something like, “John, I know you’re not active in the Church, but I’m just calling a group of men and their wives like you to come over and see me individually. I’d just like to talk to you. Would you mind coming over at such and such a time?” Many come and relatively few are bitter—they’re just spiritually dead, as far as outward signs indicate. I’ve heard that many of them respond and say, “This is the first time in 10 years anyone really asked me to come and talk to them.”

Following the visit, the man and his wife may be invited to associate with one of the groups. And just as in the case of a nonmember family, this is exactly where the great help of the members is needed—in the social transition, in the friendshipping. While the discussions are being given, the following activities have shown themselves to be very effective: (a) do something for the investigating family or part-member family daily; (b) take them to Church meetings and socials now—this week!; (c) for nonmember families, coordinate through the missionaries the visits of the auxiliaries during the first weeks; and for part-member families, coordinate through the home teachers the same visits by auxiliary officers and teachers; (d) arrange appropriate activities with ward members; (e) take the family to a baptismal service; (f) arrange a family home evening—even with the part-member family if it would be appreciated; (g) leave a schedule of Church meetings and tracts—but not all of them at once; (h) help with substitutes for Word of Wisdom problems; (i) fast and pray with them; and (j) for part-member families, arrange visits with the bishops—bishops have converting power.

Elder Richards: My advice to such persons is to show their husbands or wives by the way they live the wonderful influence of the gospel in their lives. They should be better parents and more thoughtful, considerate, and happy companions.

As much as possible, they should practice the teachings of the gospel in their homes and bring its influence into the lives of their children.

Whenever possible, their friends should be from among those who will have a good influence, who will build up respect and admiration for the Church and its teachings through their association.

Without pushing, opportunities should be made for the husband or wife to be taught the gospel. Often, this is most effective when the couple can be part of a group that is being taught. If there are others in the group who are in the same circumstances, this often helps.

Never let the husband or wife feel that he or she is an outsider. The member spouse and the family should help the nonmember to feel that family unity, “oneness,” is important, and hold tight to the belief that the family should be “one” in every way.

Above all, and after all else you can do, remember that the greatest help will come from your Heavenly Father. Pray always and be patient.

But your spouse needs help. Fellowshipping plays a vital part here. It concerns me that some of our stake and ward leaders have not fully understood how important fellowshipping is. I tell you this is an area where every member can make a real contribution.

But you just can’t sit around waiting for someone to come up and ask you to fellowship them. Life is not like that. You’ve got to get involved wherever you can, volunteer to help, and just be alert. That’s one of the reasons the Lord gave us the Holy Ghost—to keep us alert to our opportunities for blessing others, as well as ourselves.

I was in Vernal, Utah, near the Colorado border, and met a sister who had just helped a family of five join the Church. She said she was down at the grocery store and saw this woman having trouble finding groceries. “Can I help?” she asked. After helping her, she asked if the woman was just traveling through. The woman said she and her husband were traveling to Colorado to find work, and our sister said, “Well, why don’t you look around here?”

“Oh we wouldn’t know where to look,” said the woman.

“Well,” our good sister said, “let me help you out. Let’s get your groceries and come on over to our home and maybe I can help your husband meet some people who can help him get a job.”

The sister got on the phone and within an hour or two, the man was on the way out to interview for some jobs. He accepted one of them, working and helping to manage a ranch.

Well, do you think this good Samaritan sister stopped there? I should say not. The family of five had nowhere to stay, and so they were invited to stay at her home that night, where they saw happy family life, blessing of the food, family prayers, night and morning, and all the rest. The man and his wife and three children were most appreciative and were interested in this sister and her family. She said that after they got settled, she’d like to let them know why they were the way they were. A week later, she took the missionaries out to this man and his wife—and the family was baptized and eagerly entered the Church. And through it all, our good sister and others provided a transition into the community.

One of the most difficult aspects of conversion is the investigator’s feeling that he is alone and that he is leaving his old friends and way of life for something new. All members can be actively involved—and need to go out of their way to get involved—in helping others find the Church, find new friends, take persons who are investigating the gospel to socials, meetings, athletic events—everything good and wholesome. Otherwise, the investigators generally fear the awkward sensation of being obvious newcomers and strangers. This is another reason why I like grouping part-member families in compatible groups. By teaching several together, we make it possible for new friendships to develop. Many choice things have happened when a group of sincere part-member families get together to learn about their spouse’s religion—and as they talk and learn and share feelings and as the member spouse bears appropriate testimony, even about his or her life, the Spirit moves across their hearts and wonderful truths are discovered. It works! I see and hear about it all the time.

“When I came back from my mission, I wasn’t having much success in running. I quit the team in January. I thought it just wasn’t worth the time. But I couldn’t feel good about that decision because I had this nagging feeling that I hadn’t really reached my potential. I hadn’t really developed my talent to the fullest. Finally I realized that I couldn’t quit until I had given it my all.

“My philosophy of life is that you try to take advantage of all the opportunities that come, because if you don’t, they’re going to be gone. It’s very hard for me to sit back and watch things pass by. Every day that ticks off there are certain things that you have the potential to accomplish, and if you don’t that’s too bad.

“The thing in life that motivates me the most is the need to reach my full potential with the talents and capacities that God has given me. It was frustrating sometimes, but it was mostly a question of not being able to quit until I knew what my potential was.”

The decision to stick with running was soon vindicated, because 1976 was pure magic. In one of the great Cinderella stories in the annals of sports, Henry exploded from a 9:25 weakling to an 8:23.99 star, top American, and tenth-place finisher in the Olympics, with the second fastest time ever by an American, missing the record by seven-tenths of a second. He literally came from nowhere to stun the American sports scene.

His goal for 1976 had been to run an 8:55 and qualify for the NCAA meet. At the beginning of the year it seemed like an ambitious goal indeed, but as the year progressed it began looking more and more possible. In an almost magical progression, his times dropped every week. Improvements that should have taken months, came in days. He not only qualified for the NCAA meet, but astounded everyone there by finishing a strong second with a time of 8:27, which qualified him for the Olympic trials.

Never except in his wildest dreams had Henry even thought about going to the Olympics, but now it was a possibility. Still, he felt his chances were only about 50–50. He would be competing with real names in the sport. He proved himself again, however, by finishing second in the trials. He was on his way to Montreal. At the Olympics he again surprised everyone by reaching the finals, the only American to do so, and the second youngest finalist in that event in the history of the games. His eventual tenth-place finish was a triumph for a 22-year-old in a sport where runners reach their peak at around age 30. And this 22-year-old had been an “also ran” to “also rans” less than a year earlier!

When I was baptized at thirteen, I didn’t enjoy the scriptures. I didn’t understand them, and I read them only once in a while—preferring to read other literature instead. Then one Sunday, I heard two members bear their testimonies about how the scriptures had changed their lives. I felt bad that I hadn’t done my part to learn. I began praying that the Holy Ghost would help me understand. Later, I began attending seminary and reading the scriptures before going to bed. Now I have my own testimony that the scriptures are the word of God and that through them we can know the will of our Heavenly Father.
Raquel Herrera, 19El Ejido Branch, Ibarra DistrictEcuador

How these two religious leaders came to agreement to work together organizing such an unfamiliar church is linked to a miraculous event.
Six months before meeting with Johnson, Mensah had a dream that someone named Johnson would be able to help establish the Church. Mensah became aware of Johnson through his brother, Isaac Mensah, after Johnson had given him financial assistance through his position of captain. After Mensah’s dream, he invited Johnson to meet with him in his home.
According to Johnson, Mensah “asked me to pray with him so that the Lord might sustain the LDS Mission in Ghana because he had been facing trials since he started the work.”3 While praying, Johnson had a vision in which he saw an unfamiliar book—the Book of Mormon. When he asked about the book, Mensah pulled out a Book of Mormon from under the bed in the room where they had prayed.
As Johnson recognized the book in his vision, they both experienced a rich outpouring of the Spirit of God. Johnson accepted a gift of a Book of Mormon and the invitation to help build the Church while receiving continuing revelation that what he was doing was truly the Lord’s will.

What could a 17-year-old priest in Orem, Utah, possibly have in common with Julius Caesar? He isn’t a general leading his legions to conquer the world, nor is he a rich eccentric, strolling in splendor through marble palaces. The tall, dark-haired youth breeds racers (homers)—the elite of the pigeon family.
Possessed with a strong instinct to return home, and with important messages strapped to their feet, the prize pigeons of Rome allowed Caesar to maintain communication with the vassal kingdoms scattered throughout his vast empire. Today, flying in the domain of the majestic Rocky Mountains, a similar flock cuts and threads the patchwork sky of Utah Valley. In aerial acrobatics, the birds slice into breathtaking dives and twist to reverse directions without loss of speed or bearing. They whip into a large circle, beating their wings faster and faster as they soar up the winding staircase of the wind.
Every day the ritual is the same. They are training, building strength and endurance for the day when they will have to fly hundreds of miles across Utah to return to their loft nestled among the cherry and apple orchards that blanket the valley. Sitting in the deep grass near the loft, Harold J. Madsen scrutinizes the flock overhead with the concern of an Olympic coach. A young bird forgets to lift its feet and nose dives onto a roof. “Still a little young,” Harold explains. “The key to training is to get the pigeon to recognize the loft as home, so it will always return. By letting it fly from the loft every day for a few weeks, it becomes oriented and is ready to go greater distances.”
Harold steps into the loft and gently wrestles a proud bluish-gray pigeon into his large hands. By his care and caution, it can quickly be seen that this is one of his prized possessions. The bird squirms with powerful jerks of wing and claw, struggling to be free. Harold gives it a gentle thrust into the air, and with three strokes of its wings, the pigeon glides into perfect rhythm with the circling flock overhead.
The hope and dream of victory in a future race glistens in Harold’s eyes as he nods toward the flock swooping into the sun. “I have 12 birds that I’ve taken 25 miles away, and they’ve returned. We’ll go the same distance a few more times, and then I’ll take them 40 miles and longer.”
This intense training is important because in a race, the pigeon is flying against itself. The birds don’t start from the same spot, since pigeon raisers live in different areas. Each bird begins an equal distance from its loft, and the first bird to return to its loft is the winner. Once the pigeon is through the trapdoor, it is considered “home,” and many races have been lost by birds that sit outside the loft after returning.
Speaking with the happy wink of a coach telling the secrets of his athlete’s success, Harold explains that daily exercise and orientation to the loft are not the only keys to great racers. Proper diet, clean drinking water, adequate ventilation, and sanitary loft conditions are all essential to the strength and endurance of pigeons.
The cost of feeding and taking care of pigeons runs about the same as dogs and other pets. Harold estimates that a 50-pound bag of feed will last 20 pigeons almost two months. Pigeons are especially fond of a combination of grains, including wheat, beans, chick peas, and crushed corn.
Picking up a yellow water bowl covered with gunk and grime, Harold sighs in exasperation. “I have to change the water daily, since they all pile in and mess it up.” Pigeons love bathing, and after a good workout in the sun, they rival any locker room antics as they fight to get in the water. “Sometimes, they jump three on top of each other trying to get in.”
Harold’s normally cheery face suddenly becomes cloudy, and he cautions that pigeons are susceptible to certain diseases and only careful observation will prevent disease from spreading to the entire flock. If a bird seems to be sick, it is best to isolate the bird and then contact a poultry farmer or veterinarian to determine proper treatment.
Pointing to a silverish band on the ankle of his pigeons, Harold gives another word of caution. “Without a band, a bird cannot be entered in a race or fair. It also helps distinguish the birds from wild pigeons, and since good birds sell for over $30, the price of a bird without a band is cut drastically.” (Bands and registration information can be obtained by writing James R. Larimore, P.O. Box 3488, Orange, California 92665.)
Like so many coaches and trainers, Harold’s relationship with his “athletes” goes beyond the grueling training program. A deep bond of love has developed between Harold and his pigeons. Twiddling a blade of grass in his fingers, Harold gives some insight as to why he feels the way he does. “Pigeons all have different personalities. Some are shy; some are bold. You get to know a little about each one.
“It sounds stupid,” he says with a grin while shrugging his shoulders, “but when I was in Egypt for a year with my family, I didn’t miss my friends or anybody else; I just missed my pigeons?”
Watching Harold train and work with his pigeons, it is not hard to see why he feels the way he does. There are no sharp squeaks or loud squawks, only soft cooing, a sincere invitation for friendship. Everywhere there is a feeling of peace and tranquility. No wonder over 4,000 years ago the Egyptian Pharoahs idolized pigeons as “the nestlings of heaven.”

One of my nieces recently shared with me four notebooks my mother had filled with notes as she prepared to teach her class in Relief Society. I would imagine these notebooks—and there are others I have not yet examined—represent hundreds of hours of preparation by my mother.
Mother was a great teacher who was diligent and thorough in her preparation. I have distinct memories of the days preceding her lessons. The dining room table would be covered with reference materials and the notes she was preparing for her lesson. There was so much material prepared that I’m sure only a small portion of it was ever used during the class, but I’m just as sure that none of her preparation was ever wasted. How can I be sure about this? As I flipped through the pages of her notebooks, it was as if I were hearing my mother teach me one more time. Again, there was too much in her notebooks on any single topic to ever share in a single class session, but what she didn’t use in her class she used to teach her children.
I believe it is even safe to say that while my mother was an enormously effective teacher among the sisters at Relief Society, her best teaching occurred with her children in the home. Of course, this was largely due to the greater amount of time she had to teach her children compared to teaching the Relief Society sisters, but I also like to think she prepared so thoroughly, first, to be an example to her children of diligent Church service and, second, because she recognized that what she learned from preparing her lessons could be used repeatedly for a higher purpose—teaching her sons and her daughters.

I wanted to be a missionary ever since I was young. It started as a simple desire and continued to grow. But life in the Philippines was difficult. My father and brother didn’t have jobs, so I was the only one who could help my mother support our family. Because I was helping my family financially, my savings for my mission built up slowly.
I wasn’t sure how things would work out. One night I read Ether 12:12: “For if there be no faith among the children of men God can do no miracle among them; wherefore, he showed not himself until after their faith.” Then I read a message from President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) regarding faith: “It takes faith—unseeing faith—for young people to proceed immediately with their family responsibilities in the face of financial uncertainties. … It takes faith to fill full-time missions. But know this—that all these are of the planting, while faithful, devout families, spiritual security, peace, and eternal life are the harvest.”1
These teachings helped me understand that I needed more faith to submit my mission papers and to be a full-time missionary. I knew that even though it was hard, God would help me.
My branch president interviewed me and told me afterward that the last thing I needed to do was make the initial payment and then be interviewed by the mission president. I felt so happy and excited. I would get my paycheck that week, and I would be able to give the required amount. However, when I got home, I found out that my father was in the hospital. I felt overwhelmed when I realized we had to pay the hospital the exact amount I needed for my mission payment.
But Heavenly Father prepared a way. We got some help from relatives and members of the Church, including my branch president. Miraculously my father was out of the hospital after one week, and I was able to make my payment. Two weeks after I turned 22, I received my mission call to the Philippines Olongapo Mission.
I know that Heavenly Father made it possible for me to submit my mission papers. I know that if I continue to trust in Him and to act in faith, He will make impossible things possible. He will answer all our prayers, and He will continue to guide us as long as we continue to obey Him.

When elevated to the rank of inspector, he was called in by Chief J. Edgar Hoover.
“Find John Dillinger. Stay on him. Go anywhere the trail takes you and capture him alive, if you can, but protect yourself.”
Directing a special squad of agents, Sam’s investigation zeroed in on Dillinger. A telephone tip reported that Dillinger was thinking of going to one of two Chicago movies the next night. All avenues of escape from both theaters were blocked off by federal agents the following night as they awaited Dillinger’s exit. Sam directed East Chicago and Indiana agents as well as city policemen in the ambush. Walking from the Biograph Theater on July 22, Dillinger spotted the agents and reached for his automatic. The agents opened fire. Dillinger fell.

The other day I was reading the story of a baseball player. His name was Charles Gerringer. I guess he was quite a star on the Detroit Tigers team. The story indicated that it was the last half of the ninth and two men were down. Charlie Gerringer came to bat. He stood there with confidence and the first pitch came. He didn’t swing. The umpire called, “Strike!” He frowned, looked at the umpire. The second ball came by. “Ball!” cried the umpire. Charlie smiled. The next ball came. “Strike!” Charlie looked at the umpire and glared at him with that kind of glare that implied he’d like to throw down his bat, take off his cap, and engage the umpire in fisticuffs. But he knew better. He was there to hit that ball. So he pulled down on his cap, took a determined look, and here came the next pitch and Charlie smote. I don’t suppose he ever hit a ball harder. Somehow it didn’t rise in the air more than twelve feet, but it went for the left field fence. And by the time it got there it was low enough that the outfielder could grab the ball with a running jump, a one-handed spear catch. The ball game was over. Charlie didn’t say a word, but walked toward the dugout. One of his friends came up, patted him on the back, and said, “Tough luck. I have never seen you hit a ball so hard.”

Charlie’s answer, gravely, was this: “I have hit ’em higher.”

There’s a lesson in that we should never fail to try to do the best we know how. We’re going to make mistakes, but there is a power within the individual to really achieve what he wants to achieve.

I remember when I was assigned to give my first talk in church. I was given the liberty to choose my subject. I’ve always liked birds, so I thought of the Seagull Monument. In preparation, I went to Temple Square and looked at the monument. First I was attracted to all the coins in the water surrounding the monument. I wondered how they would be retrieved and who would retrieve them. I shall not confess any thought of taking them.

Then I looked upward at the seagulls atop that monument. I tried in my boyish mind to imagine what it would be like to be a pioneer watching the first year’s growth of precious grain being devoured by crickets and then seeing those seagulls, with their lofty wings, descending upon the fields and eating the crickets. I loved the account. I sat down with a pencil in hand and wrote out a two-and-one-half-minute talk. I’ve never forgotten the seagulls. I’ve never forgotten the crickets. I’ve never forgotten my knees knocking together as I gave that talk. I’ve never forgotten the experience of letting some of my innermost feelings be expressed verbally at the pulpit. I would urge that we give the Aaronic Priesthood an opportunity to think, to reason, and to serve.

Helen gazed through the window as the snow swirled outside, and shivered. “Brrr, Mama, it’s cold!” she said. She thought about Daddy, who was out working at whatever job he could find on this cold, windy day. “I hope Daddy is all right.”
“I’m sure he will be fine,” Mama said. “Come help me finish kneading this bread before your sister wakes from her nap.”
Helen climbed on a chair and watched Mama push, pound, and roll the ball of dough. She looked over at the beans that had been boiling on the stove all morning, and frowned.
Mama saw her frown and said, “Helen, we are lucky Daddy has work so we have food. And I have a secret,” she whispered. Helen moved closer.
“I have raisins, walnuts, and a little honey for our leftover dough. Let’s make cinnamon rolls!”
“A Christmas gift for Daddy!” Helen said, clapping her hands. Together they rolled the dough and spread the honey. Helen carefully placed each raisin and walnut as Mama sprinkled cinnamon.
Then Mama said, “Let’s go to the barn while we’re waiting for the rolls to rise and see if the chickens laid any eggs.”
The wind whistled around them as they ran to the barn. When Mama finished placing the last egg into a basket, Helen counted each one. “Nine eggs, Mama!”
When they got inside, Helen checked the cinnamon rolls. “Look! They’re perfect,” she said as Mama placed them in the oven.
Then they heard a knock at the door.
“Who could that be?” Mama asked.
Helen followed Mama and hid behind her skirt as Mama opened the door. Behind it stood a tired-looking woman holding a couple of red wooden chairs. Helen peeked out from behind Mama.
The woman stepped forward. “I’m selling these little red chairs for one dollar each,” she said.
Helen let go of Mama’s skirt and touched one of the chairs. She thought how she and her sister would love those chairs. Something behind the woman caught Helen’s eye. A daddy and little children were waiting in an old truck.
Mama wiped her hands on her apron and invited the woman inside. “With these hard times, I don’t have any money to give you,” Mama said. “But I will make you a Christmas trade.”
Mama picked up the basket of eggs and added potatoes to it. Then she took out a clean bucket and filled it with the cooked beans. Helen’s heart felt warm as Mama took out a hot loaf of bread and put it in the basket.
“Thank you,” the woman said softly.
Helen smiled at the woman. The woman put down the red chairs as Mama put a finger over her lips, “This is our Christmas secret, Helen.”
Tears rolled down the woman’s face as she walked with Mama to the door and they wished each other “Merry Christmas.”
On Christmas morning Helen and her sister each unwrapped a little red chair. One leg on Helen’s was a little shorter than the other three. “Look, my very own rocking chair!” This had been the very best Christmas.

There are so many blessings that come from reading the Book of Mormon. One time in my life I was encompassed with fears of what other people thought of me. In a way, you could say I was heeding the voices coming from the great and spacious building. One day I read the following in the Book of Mormon: “Hearken unto me, ye that follow after righteousness. Look unto Abraham, your father, and unto Sarah, she that bare you; for I called him alone, and blessed him” (2 Nephi 8:1-2). I thought to myself, ‘That’s me; I’m trying to follow righteousness. I am part of the Abrahamic covenant. Now what is it going to tell me to do?’

Then I read some more: “Hearken unto me, ye that know righteousness, the people in whose heart I have written my law, fear ye not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings. For the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool” (2 Nephi 8:7-8). I thought: ‘What am I afraid of? If a moth or a worm can eat them up; what is there to fear from them?’ Then it reads: “But my righteousness shall be forever, and my salvation from generation to generation” (2 Nephi 8:8). I thought, ‘I know what to do. I will trust in the Lord. I will fear no more.’

One of our missionaries, Sister Benson, who is attending with us this session, shared with me her desire to help her young brother. At that time, he was preparing to attend college and wasn’t sure about serving a mission. I felt impressed to invite Sister Benson to read the Book of Mormon during the first four months of her mission, marking her favorite verses, and then to send that copy to her brother.
Sister Benson sent the marked copy of the Book of Mormon and invited her brother to read from it each night. She later shared with me: “Before my mission, my brother wasn’t sure if he wanted to serve a full-time mission. Slowly, over time, as he read the Book of Mormon, he found increasing joy in his life and began to consider serving a mission.”
Two weeks before Sister Benson completed her mission, her brother received his mission call. He is now serving in the Mexico Tuxtla Gutiérrez Mission. Through the Book of Mormon, Elder Benson came to see his life with spiritual clarity, which led him to serve the Lord and trust that things would work out. That decision was a miracle—influenced by the power of the words of Christ.

A little while ago, my bishop invited our ward to think of some weakness or sin that we could figuratively leave at the sacrament table for Jesus Christ to take away. There are sins I’ve carried with me throughout my young adult life that I’ve tried to conquer but haven’t been able to overcome through prayer or my own willpower. Despite my growth throughout the years, I knew I needed to overcome them to continue progressing.
The Sunday after the bishop’s challenge, I decided that I would leave just one of my sins on the sacrament table, a physical representation of the Savior and His atoning sacrifice. As I prepared to take the sacrament, I remembered that the cloth covering it represented His burial cloth, and the bread and water represented His body and blood.
With sincerity and full purpose of heart, I renewed my baptismal covenants and said a prayer in my heart, asking Heavenly Father for help and making a commitment to leave this sin behind. Then something happened I never expected: my desire to sin completely left. I tried this a few more times, and the same thing happened with other sins. Was it too good to be true?
The next week, I knew what sin I wanted to leave at the sacrament table, but I didn’t feel ready to give it up. Looking back, I realize that my heart wasn’t in the place it needed to be. I wasn’t being sincere enough to commit to change. But I realized how much the sin hurt Heavenly Father. I knew I needed to align my will with His and center my life around Him to become free. So I did my best to make that a reality.
I avoided any temptation that could lead to this sin. I changed the way I read my scriptures every day and truly pondered them and applied them to my life. I focused on being sincere in my commitment to change, and I sought every day to seek the Lord’s will over mine. I put Him first, because I knew I couldn’t leave this sin behind without the power of the Savior’s Atonement. By continuing to put Him first, I was able to surrender this sin at the sacrament table. I was finally free from something that had held me back for so many years.
Through this process, I grew closer to my Heavenly Father and my Savior. I imagined Them looking down on me for all of these years with patience and love—knowing, eventually, I would give up the sins that spiritually hampered my progress. And when I was ready to give them up, Jesus Christ would be there to lift me—to take me by the hand and grant me forgiveness and strength. He already provided a way for me to become free from my sins through His Atonement. He paid the price for my weaknesses, mistakes, and sins. I just needed to trust Him.
During this time, I read some words from Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles that gave me the little push I needed: “If your life is in disarray and you feel uncomfortable and unworthy … , don’t worry. He already knows about all of that. He is waiting for you to kneel in humility and take the first few steps. Pray for strength. . . . Pray that the love of the Savior will pour into your heart.”1
When we sang “I Stand All Amazed” (my favorite hymn) the next week, each word rang true; I really was amazed—in awe that the things I had struggled with for more than a decade were taken from me. In awe that through the power of the Savior’s Atonement, I could move forward. That He can heal all sins and wounds and leave no trace of them behind. That I didn’t need to be held back by my past.
I still have so much to learn and overcome, but my life is on an upward course. I’m feeling more joy and peace. I’m expressing more gratitude. I’m coming closer to and strengthening my testimony of Heavenly Father and the Savior. Every day that I choose to try again, I come one step closer to Them and the person They know I can be.

Several years ago, I was selected to be honored as the Father of the Year in Utah. Each of our children was asked to say something special about their relationship with their father in a short video presentation.

However, one of my young sons approached me privately and confessed: “Dad, you know I love you, but I don’t think I really have anything I can say. Honestly, you spend so much time working and also serving in the Church, and the time that you do have seems to be spent more on my brothers than on me. I just don’t feel comfortable speaking on the video.”

To say the least, I was crushed by his comment. More than that, I was heartbroken that he felt less valued and loved by me, his father. My relationship with him meant more to me than any silly award. But somehow, in pursuit of my own dreams and aspirations, I was failing to focus on his needs. I vowed in that moment to change and to work harder to make him—and all of my children—a priority in my life.

My young friends, my wife and family are the abundance in my life. They mean more to me than any earthly possession. We certainly are not perfect, and we have had our share of adversity and heartache, but if we have done anything right in our lives, it has been to place the Savior and our sacred covenants at the center of our lives and to raise our family in the gospel of Jesus Christ. That has made all the difference!

The opportunity to be a blessing in the life of another often comes unexpectedly. On one extremely cold Saturday night during the winter of 1983–84, Sister Monson and I drove several miles to the mountain valley of Midway, Utah, where we have a home. The temperature that night was minus 24 degrees Fahrenheit (–31°C), and we wanted to make certain all was well at our home there. We checked and found that it was fine, so we left to return to Salt Lake City. We barely made it the few miles to the highway before our car stopped working. We were completely stranded. I have seldom, if ever, been as cold as we were that night.
Reluctantly we began walking toward the nearest town, the cars whizzing past us. Finally one car stopped, and a young man offered to help. We eventually found that the diesel fuel in our gas tank had thickened because of the cold, making it impossible for us to drive the car. This kind young man drove us back to our Midway home. I attempted to reimburse him for his services, but he graciously declined. He indicated that he was a Boy Scout and wanted to do a good turn. I identified myself to him, and he expressed his appreciation for the privilege to be of help. Assuming that he was about missionary age, I asked him if he had plans to serve a mission. He indicated he was not certain just what he wanted to do.
On the following Monday morning, I wrote a letter to this young man and thanked him for his kindness. In the letter I encouraged him to serve a full-time mission. I enclosed a copy of one of my books and underscored the chapters on missionary service.
About a week later the young man’s mother telephoned and advised that her son was an outstanding young man but that because of certain influences in his life, his long-held desire to serve a mission had diminished. She indicated she and his father had fasted and prayed that his heart would be changed. They had placed his name on the prayer roll of the Provo Utah Temple. They hoped that somehow, in some way, his heart would be touched for good and he would return to his desire to fill a mission and to serve the Lord faithfully. The mother wanted me to know that she looked upon the events of that cold evening as an answer to their prayers in his behalf. I said, “I agree with you.”
After several months and more communication with this young man, Sister Monson and I were overjoyed to attend his missionary farewell prior to his departure for the Canada Vancouver Mission.
Was it chance that our paths crossed on that cold December night? I do not for one moment believe so. Rather, I believe our meeting was an answer to a mother’s and father’s heartfelt prayers for the son they cherished.

Let me illustrate. Some years ago I was working with the missionaries in Korea. We walked into a furniture store in downtown Seoul and were soon introduced to the proprietor. He was very kind to the elders. I listened to them encouraging him to accept a copy of the Book of Mormon. I do not speak Korean, but I understood enough to know the proprietor was friendly and open to the missionaries. In a few moments he invited us upstairs to his apartment. He walked over to what we thought was a window, where he drew back the curtain to reveal a bookshelf. It held at least 12 copies of the Book of Mormon in the Korean language. Obviously, someone had been there before us. My thought at that time was, “We need to place a copy of the Book of Mormon in this man’s heart, not on his bookshelf.”

“During a six-year period (1842 to 1848), Phineas Young, brother of Brigham Young and brother-in-law of Cowdery (Phineas being married to Oliver’s half-sister Lucy), continually wrote and paid visits to Oliver,” Brother Woods said. “At the same time, Church leaders were feeling after Oliver. For example, Willard Richards, who kept the Prophet Joseph Smith’s journal, was directed by Joseph in the spring of 1843 to ‘write to Oliver Cowdery and ask him if he has not eaten husks long enough, if he is not most ready to return.’ The [Quorum of the] Twelve sent a letter to Oliver with an invitation to return to the fold, which among other things, stated, ‘Your brethren are ready to receive you. … Your dwelling place you know ought to be Zion.’”
Oliver responded cordially but was not quite ready to reclaim his Church membership, as he felt the circumstances surrounding his excommunication had not been examined in their true light, Brother Woods said.