Gospel Story Finder

“But, Mom, I don’t want to go to church today!” Trevor complained. “I want to stay home and play outside. We get a vacation from school in the summer, so why can’t we take a vacation from church now too?”
Trevor’s mother smiled as she asked, “What do you think would happen if Heavenly Father took a summer vacation from watching over us and helping us? Besides, you have all the rest of the week to play outside.”
The next day Trevor did play outside. He played long and hard. Late in the afternoon, while he was racing his bike with his friends, he turned his head to see how far ahead of them he was. In that instant his bike hit a rock, and the next thing Trevor knew, he was in a hospital bed with a big cast on his left leg and a huge bandage on his head.
As Trevor lay there, his leg was held up by a chain and pulley. He couldn’t turn; he could only lie on his back. The doctors told him that he would have to lie that way for at least four weeks! His whole summer was ruined!
To just lie still in the big hospital bed was the hardest work that Trevor had ever done. His mom, dad, and sisters came to visit him every day. They brought books to read and tapes and games that he could play while lying down. This helped, but each day still seemed like forever.
When Sunday came, Trevor knew that his family would go to church and wouldn’t come to see him till late afternoon. Trevor colored in his new coloring book, then read some of his books. Nothing feels right. This is Sunday, and I would be in church if I were home. That would feel right, he told himself.
Trevor thought about his Primary class. They’re probably in Sharing Time right now, singing some of my favorite songs. Maybe they’ll play that Bible story gamethat Sister Hinton taught us last week. Trevor wondered what Sister Norman’s lesson would be about today. Last week it had been about “Forgiveness.” He really did like the lessons. Even though it was hard to sit still sometimes, Sister Norman could always tell when everyone needed to wiggle a little. She would have them play the wiggle game until they got all their wiggles out. The more Trevor thought about church, the more he wished that he could be there.
The next week wasn’t any easier for Trevor. He kept thinking about not being able to go to church on Sunday. After lying still for days and days, sitting for three hours didn’t seem quite so impossible anymore.
When Sunday came again, the morning seemed to get longer and longer. Trevor looked at the clock on the wall. Sharing Time is just getting over, and everyone will be going to their classes. I bet the lesson’s a good one, Trevor thought sadly.
About ten minutes later Sister Norman appeared in the doorway! “Hello, Trevor. May we come in?” she asked.
“Wow! Yes! Yes!” Trevor shouted happily.
Sister Norman was followed by the other four children in Trevor’s Primary class. Each child carried cards and letters that all the children in Primary had made for Trevor during Sharing Time.
After a few minutes of visiting, Sister Norman said, “Trevor, we all missed you so much that we decided that Primary wasn’t Primary without you, and we decided to bring Primary to you today.”
The children all sat down around the bed while Sister Norman gave her lesson on kindness to others.
All too soon the lesson was over, and it was time for Trevor’s class to go. Before she left, Sister Norman said, “Trevor, if it’s all right with you, till you’re well, we’d like to visit you each week and give you the Primary lesson, just like we have at the ward.”
“Oh,” Trevor said, “that would be just great! Thank you.”
After his class had left, Trevor thought, I’m glad that Primary doesn’t stop during the summer. And I’m especially glad that Heavenly Father doesn’t take a summer vacation!

In 1978 Isaac was eight years old. He lived in a small African village in Cross River State, Nigeria. His house was made of bamboo poles packed with mud, and it had a roof made of palm leaves. Isaac loved his village and all the people who lived there.
The village was surrounded by a lush, green forest. There were palm trees, banana trees, ferns, and bamboo. To get to the next village, Isaac walked down the dirt road through the forest or rode his cousin’s old bike.
His family had a small farm where they grew their own food. They ate soup and gari, a dish that looks like oatmeal and is made of boiled roots. Isaac and his sisters each had jobs to do. One of Isaac’s jobs was to walk down to the river and get water for his family.
On Sundays, Isaac and his family went to church. Their meetinghouse was also made of bamboo and mud, and it had a neat, white sign: THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER-DAY SAINTS. There was a big brass bell in front.
At church, Brother Ekong taught them about Jesus Christ. He read to them from the few books they had received from Salt Lake City, and they sang hymns. Isaac’s favorite hymn was “Come, Come, Ye Saints” (Hymns, number 30).
Like many other people in his village, Isaac had a strong testimony that the Church is true. They were waiting for missionaries to help them learn more about the restored gospel. Brother Ekong did not hold the priesthood, so he could not baptize them. More than anything, Isaac wanted to be baptized and become a member of the Church. His father told him, “The time will come when we can be baptized.”
When Isaac and his sisters went into the forest to cut sticks for firewood, Isaac prayed for missionaries to come. While he sat on the bank of the river and watched the colorful fish swim back and forth, he sang hymns. He often pretended the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was singing with him.
One day his father told the family that there would be a special meeting on Saturday. Before the meeting, they would fast for 24 hours. At the meeting, they would pray for the missionaries to come.
On Saturday, Isaac and his family put on their best clothes. Isaac’s stomach growled with hunger, but he hardly noticed because he was so excited.
Soon the bell rang and the people of the village gathered at the small meetinghouse. It was very crowded. Brother Ekong led them in a hymn and then prayed that the Lord would send the missionaries. Many other people took turns praying. Isaac’s mother had tears on her cheeks. They sang again; then it was time to go home.
As the people were leaving, a car pulled up in front of the meetinghouse. Two men and two women got out. Isaac had never seen anyone with skin so pale. Brother Ekong talked excitedly to them. Then he went to the bell and rang it loudly. Everyone quickly returned to the meetinghouse.
Brother Ekong welcomed the four strangers and told them that the village had waited for this glad day for many years. One of the men, Elder Rendell Mabey, stood and told them he was a missionary sent to them by the prophet, President Spencer W. Kimball.
Elder Mabey bore his testimony of the restored gospel. Then Elder Cannon bore his testimony, and Sister Mabey and Sister Cannon also shared theirs. The day was very hot, but no one wanted to leave. The people asked many questions. Elder Mabey promised to return and teach them more. He told the villagers their time had come and soon they could be baptized.
On the last day of December 1978, Isaac’s family and many others gathered on the riverbank where the river had deep water and a gentle current. When it was Isaac’s turn, he waded into the river. Elder Mabey took him by the wrist, said the baptismal prayer, and lowered him into the water. The warm sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water as Isaac waded back to shore. His heart felt warm and sparkly too.

At times, when you are being led to the rescue, it may seem accidental.

Once, I simply asked someone I met on a trip, “Would you tell me a little about your family?” The conversation led me to ask to see a picture of her adult daughter, who she said was struggling. I was struck with the goodness in the face of that girl in the picture. I felt impressed to ask if I could have her email address. The daughter was at that moment lost and wondering if God had any message for her. He did. It was this: “The Lord loves you. He always has. The Lord wants you to come back. Your promised blessings are still in place.”

It was 1:00 A.M. on Christmas 1843. A band of less than two dozen, dressed against the chill, approached the Mansion House at the northeast corner of Main and Water streets in Nauvoo. The group halted below the windows of the room where the Prophet Joseph Smith slept. With well-wrapped scarves, hats pulled low, and hands gloved or pocketed, the members huddled below the Prophet’s window. One of the group gave the pitch, and they began caroling:
“Mortals, awake! with angels join,
And chant the solemn lay;
Love, joy, and gratitude combine
To hail th’auspicious day.*
As they sang the other six verses, the inhabitants of the house gathered at the window. Perhaps a few, including the Prophet, braved the foot-stamping cold to greet the singers. He later said, “It caused a thrill of pleasure to run through my soul. All of my family and boarders arose to hear the serenade, and I felt to thank my Heavenly Father for their visit and blessed them in the name of the Lord.”
The chill forgotten, Widow Lettice Rushton, a blind English convert, her five grown children and their spouses, and a handful of neighbors who made up the singing group departed for Hyrum’s house two blocks west on Water Street. Naturally at that hour the patriarch to the Church was asleep. He arose and went outside to shake hands with the singers. He blessed each one of them, telling them it was such heavenly music that he thought at first that a choir of angels had come to visit him.
For the Prophet and his brother, that Christmas was to prove their last.
Joseph intended to stay home that day. A family man, his past Christmases had not always been as pleasant as this one. In the previous Christmas season, he had met with Governor Ford concerning problems between the Saints and their nonmember neighbors. In 1839 he had spent the Christmas season in Washington seeking redress for the Saints who’d lost their possessions in the Missouri conflicts. The year before that Joseph and several loyal friends had spent a miserable Christmas in Liberty Jail.
Perhaps his thoughts turned to his good friend Porter Rockwell, now 30, who at the last account was still languishing in the Missouri prison where he had been for seven months. Because Porter was being illegally held, it did not seem likely that efforts on the part of the Saints in Illinois would secure his release.
At noon on that last Christmas, Joseph met with some brethren from Morley Settlement, located near the present site of Lima, 25 miles south of Nauvoo. He counseled them to keep the law on their side despite the depredation of marauding citizens.
At about 2:00 P.M., 50 couples sat down at Joseph’s table as guests. During the meal, Joseph was asked to solemnize the marriage of Dr. Levi Richards and Sara Griffiths. Not desiring to leave his guests, he had the request forwarded to Brigham Young, who was living on the southeast corner of Kimball and Granger streets, three blocks north and one block west of the Prophet’s residence. Brother Brigham complied with the request.
Apparently the 38-year-old Prophet, who had a reputation for hospitality, spent the remainder of the day with his family and associates. That evening a large group also dined at the Prophet’s house before turning to music, dancing, and other festivities in the tradition of Christmas in that day.
Latecoming guests, dressed in their best, arrived during the evening hours on that Monday. The troubles of the Saints, past and present, were temporarily forgotten as the guests enjoyed the festivities. Then the spirit of the evening was disrupted when a gaunt, seemingly drunk, unwashed Missourian, straggly and unkempt hair brushing his shoulders, forced his way into the room.
Efforts were made to throw the ruffian out, but he was too powerful. In the ensuing struggle, Joseph had a good look at the man. It was his friend, Porter!
The atmosphere cleared as friends gathered around Rockwell and welcomed him home. He explained how he had been honorably released after seven months in prison and had worked his way home through hostile territory. Because his feet were injured and men were seeking his life, it had taken him 12 days. He had just arrived in Nauvoo. The trick he’d played on the Prophet and his guests was merely his idea of fun.
Rockwell’s safe return climaxed the day for Joseph on his last Christmas, the Christmas before the summer guns at Carthage.

About two years ago I read this column in the newspaper:
“Dear Abby:
“I’m sitting here on the plane reading the letter in your column about the son who didn’t want to put his father up temporarily because he felt his father’s visit would be an invasion of his privacy.
“That item caught my eye because I am on my way to visit my son in Omaha for two weeks—at his insistence. I was reluctant to do so initially because I felt I might be interfering with his personal activities.
“I wonder if the son who wrote that letter ever gave a thought to the privacy his father might have forfeited during his son’s time at home?
“There were times during my children’s lives when, given my druthers, I’d have preferred some alternative activity, but now I don’t regret one minute of the time I spent with them. I’m only sorry it couldn’t have been more. Their time at home seems to have been so brief.
“I won’t mail this, of course, since I realize you will receive thousands of more articulate letters on the above. This is just my way of …”
“Dear Abby: My father died suddenly of a heart attack, and this unfinished letter was in his pocket. My wife and I will miss him very much. Sign this—‘A son who really wanted his dad to come.’ William Smzyk, Omaha, Nebr.” (Abigail Van Buren, Deseret News 13 Dec. 1979, p. C7.)

Kendra was alert for any opportunity to begin a gospel discussion. Like a lot of young people, her wallet was stuffed with pictures of everyone who’s ever been important to her. In front of all the others, she included a photo of the president of the Church and a picture of the Savior. When her friends would flip through her photos they’d ask if the kindly looking man in the first photo was her grandfather.

“Oh no,” she would explain. “He’s the president of our Church.” The next picture was of Christ. “I’m sure you recognize him,” she would say. “He’s my best friend.” It was a great conversation starter.

Sometimes, Kendra took the initiative even further. One Thursday night, when investigators called to say they couldn’t make it to her home to meet with the missionaries, she decided not to let her missionary night go to waste. She and a girlfriend jumped into the car and headed for town, where they found some young people and convinced them to skip a movie and come meet the missionaries instead.

Kendra’s missionary vigor helped 11 people join Christ’s true church and acquainted many others with its teachings. And Kendra herself grew tremendously while on her “mission.” She says it was the happiest time of her life because she cared so much about other people.

At the close of one of her letters to me, Kendra expressed joy that her “mission” really hasn’t ever ended. I sustain her in that thought. Though our callings in life may seem to change occasionally, their purposes remain the same—to help each other return to our Father’s presence.

The work of the Lord is going very well in the Democratic Republic of Congo in spite of the war in certain provinces of the country.
One day my companion and I knocked on the door of Sister Sylvie. Two days later we met her husband, Brother Antoine. He asked us the name of our church. We answered that we were from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“That is the church I have been looking for,” he cried with joy. “I have an old Book of Mormon, several pages of which I have lost. I am very happy to have found you.”
Three weeks later Brother Antoine was baptized. I know with all my heart that the Spirit leads those who want to be led to the work of the Lord.
Elder Mahongo Ruffin,Democratic Republic of Congo Kinshasa Mission

The idea to investigate the general area of Lehi’s journey was presented to Lynn M. Hilton and his wife Hope by the editors of the Church Magazines. In past years, the Hiltons had made dozens of trips to Europe, the Middle East, Africa, and Asia as owners of a travel agency and as part of Brigham Young University adult education travel study program. They loved the Middle East, had many friends there, and had visited its cities often. They had studied its languages, history, and culture but did not have advanced degrees in Middle East studies. They loved the Book of Mormon and had sincere testimonies of its truthfulness. Brother Gerald Silver, a photographer for the Church’s daily newspaper, Deseret News, was asked to accompany the Hiltons to record the scenes of the adventure.
Just consider the scope of the challenge given to us! We were to follow a trail that had been cooling for more than 2,500 years—a trail that lay half a world away in war-torn territory now divided between Oman, Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and Israel. All the clues to Lehi’s route are contained in a mere 18 chapters that Nephi wrote years after his journey; and the main purpose of the record was not to record geography and caravan routes but those marvelous visions given to his father and later to himself. But we had an assignment, we know that the Book of Mormon is true, and thus started from the premise that what Nephi wrote actually happened. Inspired by God, Mormon had included Nephi’s own record without abridging it. Inspired by God, Joseph Smith had translated it, literally and faithfully. The hypothesis and confusions that we will present, of course, are tentative; but the story of our search for Lehi’s route is an exciting adventure that has resulted in some basic conclusions about actual places mentioned in the Book of Mormon.
As we prepared to make our journey, we wrote letters to over one hundred Arab friends in seven Middle East countries, explaining our plans. We were astonished and overwhelmed with gratitude at their enthusiastic responses and offers to help.
As important as the information we collected from our research were the interpretations of that research and the insights and information shared willingly by a host of friends. We especially would not have been able to succeed without the second-mile efforts and cooperation of Salim Saad of Amman, Jordan; Angie Chukri of Cairo, Egypt; Hassibe Dajani of Jiddah, Saudi Arabia; Sheik Helwan Habtar of Abha, Saudi Arabia; Sa’adi Fatafitah of Tarqumia, Westbank via Israel; and Nabeel Mustakim of Jerusalem, Westbank, via Israel.
Thus armed with the advice of many, we immediately began doing library research.
Interviews with Middle East scholars of both the University of Utah and Brigham Young University prepared our minds for the task ahead.
Gradually a clear picture began to emerge. We realized a cursory reading of the Book of Mormon might give the impression that Lehi and his family traveled into a desert vacuum, barren of people and civilization; yet a more careful reading of the text contains several clues indicating inhabited regions. Lehi could not travel without food and water for his family and his beasts of burden. Nephi records no miraculous manna descending to feed them—they had to work hard for their food and sometimes complained because of hunger. No waters are reported gushing miraculously from their own rocks of Horeb as Moses had produced with the touch of his rod. The family, therefore, must have traveled and survived as other travelers of their day did in the same area, going from public waterhole to public waterhole. (Of course, they also had the heaven-sent Liahona to help them.) As we traveled through the Middle East, we never saw a fresh-water source devoid of people; where water is so precious, it is unlikely that many waterholes are unknown.
Thus our research ended. The route and the chronology as we pieced it together had Lehi joining one of the most heavily traveled routes of antiquity, the frankincense road originating in Salalah, Oman. For us, this explains the presence of named water sources, the direction the group traveled, and the people they undoubtedly met.
Now, we were ready to test the hypothesis by driving over the ground, checking distances, seeing for ourselves the existence of the frankincense trail, and examining this centuries-old area which fit so well the description of Bountiful. We were ready for Arabia! (To be continued)

One night in early 1880, Desideria Yáñez was sleeping in a comfortable pueblo in the cactus-lined hills of Nopala, Mexico. As she dreamed, she saw a pamphlet titled Voz de Amonestación (Voice of Warning) that would change her life and aid her spiritually. Upon waking, she knew the men publishing the pamphlet were in Mexico City.1 She also realized it was physically impossible for her to travel the 75 miles (120 km) to the city, but she was determined to follow the impressions of the dream and find a solution.
Desideria discussed her dream with her son José. He believed her and journeyed to Mexico City in her place. He began anxiously talking to people and eventually met Church member Plotino Rhodakanaty, who directed him to the Hotel San Carlos.2
At the hotel, José found Elder James Z. Stewart correcting the printer’s proofs of Parley P. Pratt’s Voz de Amonestación, the same pamphlet Desideria had seen in her dream. After José talked to Elder Stewart about Desideria’s dream, the missionary gave José some other Church pamphlets, since Voz de Amonestación was not finished, and Elder Stewart noted the interesting conversation in his journal.3
Many dusty miles later, José reunited with his mother. Upon learning of the pamphlet’s reality, Desideria knew that the dream had been true. She pored over the pamphlets José had brought her, and the basic teachings of the gospel they contained touched her soul. She desired to be baptized.
Because Elder Stewart was still completing Voz de Amonestación, Elder Melitón Trejo, a missionary from Spain, was sent to Nopala to find Desideria and José. On April 22, 1880, Elder Trejo baptized Desideria Quintanar de Yáñez, José Maria Yáñez, and José’s daughter Carmen. Desideria was the 22nd person to be baptized in the Mexican Mission and the first woman in central Mexico.4
Later that month, José visited Mexico City again and returned home with 10 copies of Voz de Amonestación. Desideria finally saw the pamphlet from her dream. For her the pamphlet was a physical reminder of how the Lord had reached out to her personally and drawn her to the restored gospel.

It was at the beginning of our Primary lesson, when we are especially reverent, that Sister Gentry said, “I want you all to close your eyes.”
We all shut our eyes, wondering what she was going to do next.
“Very good. Now I want you to picture yourself walking up to the doors of the meetinghouse. As you look around, you see that the grass hasn’t been cut in a long time and that big clumps of weeds are growing here and there.
“You enter the building,” Sister Gentry continued, “and walk down the hall toward the chapel. The hallway is littered with crumpled papers and broken crayons. The walls have scribbles on them and dirty handprints. A big cobweb hangs in the corner.
“Passing the cultural hall, you see plates of stale food piled up on tables. Crushed cups and dirty napkins litter the floor. The stage curtains have gaping tears in them, and the carpet is badly stained from spills that were never cleaned up.
“Entering the chapel, you notice the shabby seats. On closer inspection, there are dust bunnies under the benches and in the corners. Discarded programs are sticking up behind the hymnbooks. And candy wrappers and dry cereal are scattered on the benches and floor.”
Sister Gentry paused for a moment. “Now open your eyes and tell me how you felt during your imaginary tour.”
We all agreed that we felt dirty and sad and wouldn’t want to go to such a place again.
Sister Gentry explained that our meetinghouse is the Lord’s house, a sacred place. And we all need to do our part in keeping it clean and beautiful so that His spirit will be there.

A short time ago, our family had the opportunity to be taught. It was a painful trial, but it became a sweet experience. Last December my wife and I were together with our three daughters. The oldest is married and lives in the state of Delaware. She came to visit us with her husband and three little children. The youngest of her children is David, fifteen months old, who is also the youngest of our four grandchildren. The days of their visit were beautiful and unforgettable. We enjoyed ourselves immensely as a family, and it was an opportunity to get to know David, whom we had only seen at birth. David is an extremely sweet child, the best I have ever known. He never cries, even when sick or in pain. He is independent but very loving—a special spirit.

Those days together came to an end, and my daughter’s family returned home. Two days after they arrived, tragically David had to be taken to the hospital, and four hours later he died.

My wife and I immediately left to be with our children at this difficult time. We flew all night, and it was painful for us to talk about what had happened. We spent long waking hours in thought and prayer. I didn’t know how I could comfort our children. What could I say when I, myself, felt such deep pain? So I prayed a great deal, and a loving Father came to my aid. The answers came one by one at the appropriate time, fulfilling the Lord’s promise: “Learn of me, and listen to my words; walk in the meekness of my Spirit, and you shall have peace in me” (D&C 19:23).

We met our children, who were in deep mourning. They were suffering so intensely that their pain did not allow them to see the purposes and teachings. They are faithful members of the Church, but as young people they never expected anything so devastating.

My wife and I shared the answers that we had, and they, upon understanding and accepting them, began to receive further answers, additional teachings which brought peace to their hearts.

“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.
“Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” (D&C 6:22–23).

The sense of pain and suffering diminished, leaving in its place sweet feelings from the Spirit.

I was amazed at the way our children went through the difficulty of the funeral with such calmness and sweetness. They showed great strength and even comforted other relatives and friends.

How was this wonderful change made possible?

Because we realize that God lives and, as our Father, he loves us. He doesn’t want us to suffer any harm. If David went away, it was because as a special spirit he had no need to remain longer in this life. We realize that David is needed in another place. It was a blessing to know him and to have him in our family. We have not lost him; we will be able to see him again. We should remember fondly the time that we spent with David. He taught us what it means to be pure and clean before God, and he is an example for all of us. We need to place our lives in proper perspective in order to be worthy to see him again. Because of him, we think more about life beyond the veil and have been taught to recognize what is truly important in this life and the life to come—keeping our families united eternally.

So many blessings, so many teachings! We changed and grew during that time. How grateful we are to our Father in Heaven for this experience.

A few days after David left us, my daughter learned that she was pregnant again. So much love from our Father! Additional teachings. I testify that our teacher, our Shepherd, is Christ, our best friend, who clears up all our doubts. He heals our wounds and turns our pain into sweet experiences. I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In section 111, verse 9, of the Doctrine and Covenants, the Lord said that the Prophet should “inquire diligently concerning the more ancient inhabitants” of Salem. The coastal town of Salem was founded in 1626. In 1663 Anthony Ashby was recorded as being in Salem. Anthony was the great-great-great-great-grandfather of Nathaniel Ashby. Since Anthony, six generations of Ashbys had lived in Salem.
The little brown book (Robert Ashby, Ashby Ancestry, 1941), explained that “in 1841, Elder Erastus Snow and others brought to this family the true gospel message which they gladly accepted.” My ancestors were among the converts of Salem!
As I read about Nathaniel and his family, I discovered that Elder Snow and his wife occupied one of Nathaniel’s homes in Salem for two years, rent-free. Perhaps for the missionary, that had been a treasure better than gold. In the fall of 1843, the Ashby family moved to Nauvoo, where they shared a large duplex home with Elder Snow’s family. The Ashbys donated their wealth to help build the temple.
Members of the Ashby family wee in Nauvoo on the day the Prophet Joseph was martyred. They lived only a short distance from the Prophet’s home, and one of Nathaniel’s sons wrote that he was in his father’s garden one morning in June of 1844 when the Prophet rode by on his way to Carthage. “Never shall I forget the look of deep sorrow that covered his noble countenance. That was the last time I saw him alive,” wrote the son.
Members of the Ashby family were in the congregation during the transfiguration of Brigham Young. Nathaniel’s son Benjamin wrote that “the last time I saw the features of Joseph Smith was when the form, voice, and countenance of Brigham Young was transfigured before the congregation so that he appeared like Joseph Smith in every particular.”
The Ashby family was also among those who left their homes in Nauvoo and started west. Within days, Nathaniel died in Iowa. But Susan Ashby pressed on with her eleven children, crossed the plains, and arrived in Salt Lake City. One of the Ashby daughters was my great-grandmother.

President Wilford Woodruff recounted the difficulties of early missionary work:
“In my early missions, when preaching in the Southern States—Arkansas, Tennessee, and Kentucky—I have waded swamps and rivers and have walked seventy miles or more without eating. In those days we counted it a blessing to go into a place where there was a Latter-day Saint. I went once 150 miles to see one; and when I got there he had apostatized, and tried to kill me. Then, after travelling seventy-two miles without food, I sat down to eat my meal with a Missouri mobocrat, and he damning and cursing me all the time. … In those days we might travel hundreds and hundreds of miles and you could not find a Latter-day Saint.”

As the Bible declares, the true Church of Jesus Christ is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone” (Ephesians 2:20). I experienced an application of that fundamental principle of the restored gospel many years ago.
A member of the Church brought her neighbor to my office. The neighbor’s husband was a Protestant minister with a large congregation. For many years, this couple had served the Lord with great diligence in their Christian ministry. He had baptized many people into that church.
Now, through the influence of his Latter-day Saint neighbors, he had read the Book of Mormon and was converted to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was ready to resign his ministry and join the restored Church. But first, he and his wife needed an answer to their question regarding priesthood authority. Reminding me that her husband had baptized many people, his wife asked, “Are you telling me that my husband didn’t have any authority to baptize all the people that he baptized?”
The Spirit prompted my answer, as it will in these situations.
“No,” I said. “I’m sure your husband had authority to baptize all the people that he baptized. He had all the authority that his church could give him. He could perform marriages. He could make people members of the congregation. He could hire a contractor to put a new roof on your church. But that isn’t the kind of authority we’re discussing. The authority in your question is the authority that Jesus gave to Peter, that whatsoever he did on earth would be honored in heaven (see Matthew 16:19). And because that divine authority must be traceable to Apostles, it exists only in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”

A few months ago, I was standing in a hall when Elder Neil L. Andersen walked by. I had just been called as a new General Authority. Likely sensing my feelings of inadequacy, he smiled and said, “Well, there looks like a man who has no idea what he is doing.”
And I thought, “There is a true prophet and seer.”
Elder Andersen then whispered, “Don’t worry, Elder Shumway. It gets better—in five or six years.”

I met the angel who would become my wife at an institute party the second night I was home from my mission. Although Shelley and I grew up in Canada several hundred miles apart and had never met before, we got to know each other well over the following months. When I had proposed three times and been turned down because she was committed to serving a mission, she finally accepted my proposal after I promised her that we would serve missions together after raising a family. She accepted an engagement ring on December 22, 1976.

When times were tough, I learned to take time to feel joy in the little moments—the gifts—that are given to us. When my son cannot help but give me a kiss, I am grateful. When I watched my son ride the bus without anyone to sit with, I was blessed to have this scripture come into my mind: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88). I knew that Brad was not alone and never will be.

I have a very good friend who served as a Congregational minister for over 26 years. He had one of the largest churches on Long Island, New York, at one time. He became acquainted with the Mormons by visiting Salt Lake City and receiving visits from Latter-day Saint missionaries in his home. He developed a great admiration for the programs of the Church, primarily because of the fruits he saw that were produced by the Church. So he thought to borrow these programs and adopt them into his own church, which he tried to do. But he found that they did not work. His statement to me was:
“It was somewhat of a jolt to discover that the genius of Mormonism was in its theology, not its methodology, and that the amazing vitality of the Church sprang from the commitment of its members to the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ received by revelation. It became obvious that one could not have the fruits of Mormonism without its roots.” (John F. Heidenreich, “It May Change Your Life.”)

A giraffe, a lion, a tiger, a zebra and an elephant lived together in the jungle. Or rather they all lived in the jungle but not exactly together. Often they were angry and cross each other and now as a friend to the other. They were always complaining and finding fault with each other.
The tiger complained because the stripes on the zebra made him dizzy.
The zebra complained about the giraffe’s long neck. Whenever the two of them talked together, the zebra got a stiff neck from looking up so high.
The giraffe found fault because the lion’s loud snoring kept him awake.
The lion complained because the elephant was so huge he blocked the sun when the lion wanted a sunbath, and the elephant was always cross because the tiger hid in the tall grass and scared him.
And thus it went day after day. Complaints, complaints, complaints!
Then one warm afternoon when the tiger awakened from his afternoon nap and peered through the grass to see if the elephant were near, he saw the zebra trotting about in the sunshine. Maybe it was because he was still a bit sleepy, but the tiger suddenly thought that the zebra’s stripes looked very pretty in the sunshine.
When the zebra came close the tiger yawned a little and remarked, “Those black and white stripes of yours really don’t look bad. If I half close my eyes, I don’t get a bit dizzy.”
This pleased the zebra and he trotted off, arching his neck and flicking his tail. He saw the giraffe eating from the high branches of the acacia tree. And, still feeling good about the tiger’s compliment, he said to the giraffe, “Your long neck is certainly perfect for reaching so high. How do things look from up there.”
“The air is clear and bright and all is peaceful,” answered the giraffe, lowering his head to the zebra’s level. And so they talked and walked a while on that sunny afternoon until it was time for the giraffe to find a shady spot for his afternoon nap.
The lion had chosen the same shady spot and was already dozing and snoring there. For a minute the giraffe felt cross. Then he stretched his long neck and took a few nibbles of tender leaves before closing his eyes. The lion’s snoring was rhythmic and steady, and soon the giraffe was gently nodding his head to its beat. He quickly fell asleep and dreamed a pleasant dream.
They both awoke at the same time. The lion yawned and the giraffe stretched his neck. The giraffe spoke first. “Your snoring was very soothing,” he said, “almost like a lullaby.”
“Thank you,” answered the lion. “That was kind of you to say so.” Feeling pleased he walked off through the tall grass to find a spot where he could lie in the sun.
The sun was too bright and hot and soon the lion wished he were back under the tree in the shade. Just then the elephant plodded by on his way to the waterhole. As he passed the lion he cast a big shadow and for an instant the lion felt cool.
The lion arose and walked beside the elephant. “May I walk in your shadow to the waterhole?” he asked politely. “You make an even deeper shade than the acacia tree.”
“Come along” said the elephant. “My shadow does me no good but I’m glad you can use it.” Together they went to the waterhole.
Later when the elephant walked to the tall grass for his evening meal, the tiger crept up and scared him. The elephant jumped a little and said to the tiger, “Oh! You certainly move quietly. Even with my big ears I didn’t hear you coming.”
The tiger was so pleased and stopped to show the elephant just how he placed his paws on the ground so no noise could be heard
The jungle is the same. The trees still stand. The grass waves in the breeze. The sun shines brightly. But there is a difference.
Now the giraffe, the lion, the tiger, the zebra, and the elephant live together in the jungle as friends.

That involvement and the support network that comes along with it make it easy for all the LDS students to let their gospel light shine. In every group and on every team, people notice that the Mormon kids seem to have their own fan club, which leads to questions about the gospel. Lisa Arrington, a recent convert to the Church, became interested in the gospel because she was friends with Mark. She wanted to know more about the friends that seemed to always surround him and why they always seemed so happy. Now Mark isn’t just her friend; he’s also her home teacher.