Gospel Story Finder

Several years ago Sister Ellis and I were called to preside over the Brazil São Paulo North Mission. The call meant that we would be away for three years. Given our family and business situation, we were impressed to keep our home and business in Houston rather than sell them.
As we began to make the necessary arrangements, it became clear we would need to have our lawyer prepare a power of attorney. That is a legal document that gives someone else the authority to do anything in our name. The person with this document could sell our home or other assets, borrow money in our name, spend our money, or even sell our business. The thought of giving someone that much power and authority over our affairs was scary.
We decided to give our power of attorney to a person we trusted, a good friend and partner, who exercised that power and authority very well. He did what we would have done if we were there.
Brethren, think of what the Lord has given us—His power and authority! The power and authority to act for Him in all things pertaining to His work!
With this priesthood power and, when necessary, the authorization of those with appropriate keys, we can perform the ordinances of salvation in His name: baptize for the remission of sins, confirm and confer the Holy Ghost, confer the priesthood and ordain others to priesthood offices, and perform temple ordinances. In His name we can administer His Church. In His name we can bless, home teach, and even heal the sick.
What a trust the Lord has placed in us! Think of it, brethren. He trusts us!
Before we received the priesthood, we had already been prepared and proven. We had exercised faith in Jesus Christ, repented, been baptized, and received the gift of the Holy Ghost. The level of experience we brought to our ordination varied. But the divine procedure was the same. We had been prayed about and interviewed by those exercising priesthood keys. We had been sustained by a vote of the Church members of our unit. We were ordained by one with authority and authorization to do so.
The Lord is careful with His priesthood. To exercise His power and authority is a sacred trust.
How wonderful that we have earned the trust of God! He trusts you! He trusts me!
When we receive the priesthood, we do so by covenant. A covenant is a mutual promise. He promises to bless us on certain conditions. We promise to fulfill those conditions. As we do so, the Lord always keeps His word and gives us the blessing. Usually He gives us more than agreed. He is very generous.
When we receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, we receive what is called “the oath and covenant” of the priesthood. We promise the Lord two things, and He promises us two things. We promise to be “faithful unto the obtaining these two priesthoods” and faithful in “magnifying [our] calling.” He promises that we will be “sanctified by the Spirit.” Then after we are faithful in all things to the end, He promises that “all that my Father hath shall be given [us]” (see D&C 84:33–41).
The Lord blesses His children through our priesthood service. To help us be successful in faithfully rendering priesthood service, He gives us directions and warnings. He has done that in the scriptures and continues to guide us through our leaders and through the promptings of the Holy Ghost.
The scriptures contain many passages of direction and warning to holders of the priesthood. One of the best is section 121 of the Doctrine and Covenants. In those few verses the Lord teaches us that the priesthood can only be exercised in righteousness. We should treat others with persuasion, patience, and kindness. He reminds us of the importance of charity and virtue in having the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost.
That section also warns us of those attitudes and actions that will cause us to lose our priesthood power. If we “aspire to the honors of men,” attempt to “cover our sins,” try to “gratify our pride” or “vain ambition,” or seek to “exercise control” over others, we lose the priesthood power (see vv. 35–37). From that point we would be practicing priestcraft. We would have left the service of God and would be putting ourselves in the service of Satan.
It would be good for priesthood holders to restudy Doctrine and Covenants section 121 regularly. It is easy to understand why our modern prophets have emphasized the need for us to maintain our worthiness and have given us For the Strength of Youth as a guide to help us.
One reason we must maintain our worthiness is that we never know when we will be called upon to use the priesthood.
When our son Matthew was five, he fell from the top of the high diving board at our neighborhood pool. He hit the concrete deck and suffered a fractured skull and a brain concussion. He was rushed by a Life Flight helicopter to the Houston Medical Center for emergency treatment. I needed priesthood assistance immediately. Our home teacher and our priesthood leader were both worthy and prepared at that moment. They helped give Matthew a blessing, and he completely recovered.
We must be ready at any time. As we say in Scouting, “Be prepared.”
Surely we want to avoid priestcraft. But the Apostle Paul warned us of another danger. He warned that in our day there will be those “having a form of godliness, but denying the power thereof” (2 Timothy 3:5).
How can we as priesthood holders have a form of godliness but deny the power thereof? Could it be that we hold the priesthood but do not exercise it? visit our families rather than home teach them? pray for someone in an ordinance or ordination instead of blessing them? do the Lord’s work the best way we know how without first pleading to know and do His will in His way?
Remember the Lord’s counsel to us through Nephi that we “must not perform any thing unto the Lord save in the first place [we] shall pray” (2 Nephi 32:9).
Years ago I was called to serve as a counselor in the Houston Texas North Stake presidency. I was studying the parable of the talents. You remember the story. A man needed to go away, so he entrusted his servants with his goods. One received five talents, another two, and the last received one. Upon his return, he asked for an accounting.
The servant who received five and returned ten, as well as the one who took two and returned four, were declared good and faithful servants. But what caught my attention was the servant who received one, took care of it, and returned it safely back to his lord. I was surprised by the response of the master: “Thou wicked and slothful servant, … take therefore the talent from him, … and cast ye the unprofitable servant into outer darkness”! (See Matthew 25:14–30.)
This seemed to be a harsh reaction to one who seemed to be trying to take care of what he was given. But the Spirit taught me this truth—the Lord expects a difference! I knew in that moment that each of us will one day stand before God and give an accounting of our priesthood service and stewardships. Did we make a difference? In my case, was the Houston Texas North Stake better when I was released than when I was called?
Thankfully, the Lord teaches us how to be fruitful, how to make a difference. “He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit” (John 15:5). If we exercise His priesthood in His way, following the direction that we receive from His servants and His Spirit, we will be good and faithful servants!
My dear brethren of the priesthood, the Lord Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, lives! He knows us; He loves us. He placed His trust in us by giving us His priesthood power and authority. I am a witness of this truth. May we use His power and authority to do His will in His way is my prayer.
As we hear from President Hinckley, President Monson, and President Faust, I bear my personal witness that each is a prophet, seer, and revelator. I am anxious to hear their counsel. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Chieko Nishimura Okazaki had goodly parents too. Her grandparents moved from Japan to Hawaii. Her parents worked hard on a plantation. They were Buddhists, Buddhism being the main religion in Japan. They did not know about Jesus Christ. But they knew about goodness. What did they teach Chieko?
She said, “They taught me to be kigatsuku (key-got-sue-koo). That means to do good without being asked. When my mother was sweeping the floor, she would say, ‘Chieko, what would a kigatsuku girl do now?’ I would think for a minute, then run to get the dust pan and hold it for her. Or when she was washing dishes, I would pick up the dishtowel and begin to dry them. She would smile and say, ‘You are a kigatsuku girl.’
“My parents taught me other things. They taught me to work hard and to always do my best. That’s why I could work hard in school, go to the university, and become a school teacher and even a principal. They taught me to always love the truth. That is why, when I found the Church, I loved it and was baptized a Latter-day Saint.”
Chieko respected, honored, and loved her parents by helping without being asked and by following the righteous principles that they taught her. Now she is the first counselor in the General Presidency of the Relief Society. Her father is dead; her mother is still a Buddhist. Sister Okazaki says, “I know that she is proud of me because I still try to be kigatsuku, and I love her very much for teaching me good things.”

I had always had a feeling that I’d serve my mission in Switzerland where my ancestors once lived. So when I got my call to Italy in 1970, I was surprised but excited. In the language training mission (now called the missionary training center), I found out that southern Switzerland, where my ancestors came from, was actually part of my mission. I knew Heavenly Father called me to that specific place for a reason.
Partway through my mission, my companion and I were assigned to be zone leaders over an area that included southern Switzerland—and we had a car.
We went to my family’s village, Vergeletto, and looked up one of my cousins. He showed us around and introduced us to the parish priest, who, upon request, showed us the books of vital records for the area. We then returned home, but a seed had been planted in me that would grow throughout my mission.
With just a month left on my mission, I felt like I needed to take action and find my family’s records before I returned home. I prayed to know if there was something more I could do, and I felt a distinct prompting from the Spirit telling me that I needed to get a copy of those vital records that I had seen months ago. I told my mission president that I felt like I needed to return to my family’s village in Switzerland and explained why. The village was 87 miles (140 km) away, but my mission president gave me permission to go anyway.
It was dusk when the narrow winding road took us up the mountain into the hamlet of Vergeletto. We stopped at the focal point of town, the Catholic church. My companion and I were then drawn to the cemetery across the street from the church that was all lit up with candles.
As we entered the cemetery, I clearly and strongly felt the Spirit guide me like I never had before. That feeling and the fresh alpine air created a sensation I will never forget. In the cemetery, it seemed that every other tombstone had my last name on it. We even saw my great-grandfather’s tomb; it said people went to him to repair their broken bones.
We returned to the church to see if we could find the priest. There we met an old man, who told us it was Il Giorno dei Morti, or a holiday known as the Day of the Dead (which would explain all the candles in the cemetery). The man told us that the priest had services in neighboring villages and would be back in two hours.
My companion and I waited, and when the priest returned, I reminded him of our encounter a few months earlier and then asked if I could see the vital records of the parish again.
He agreed.
The priest brought out a box of books that were hundreds of years old. I told the priest that our Church was microfilming parish records in Parma, Italy, 170 miles (274 km) away. I asked if he would allow us to take the records for a few weeks and have them copied.
He again agreed. I was shocked.
As we left town, I marveled at what had just happened and even checked the rearview mirror to see if the priest was running after us with a change of heart. Two weeks later, we returned the records to him, as promised.
Due to the penmanship, the use of Latin, and the deterioration, the records were hard to read. But then, just a few years ago, I noticed hundreds of records from Vergeletto had been linked to my ancestors in FamilySearch. Family lines that used to only go out three to four generations now extended seven to nine generations!
It turns out a professional genealogist in Alabama, USA, who is not a member of the Church shares a branch of the global family tree with me. He had accessed and read the records from the books I had copied in Italy and attached them in FamilySearch. This man is amazing; we have since collaborated several times. He explained that uploading those names and sources is his way of paying back the Church for all their work in making records available in FamilySearch.
Now my dad’s side of my genealogy fan chart is full of names. And I’ve been blessed to do their temple work.
I’ve often looked back wondering why a Catholic priest would allow a young American—who was also a missionary for another faith—to take his collection of vital records out of the country for copying. Were my ancestors praying for me? Were they praying for the priest’s heart to be softened?
I don’t know—it could have been both those things. But I do know that Heavenly Father can help bring about miracles when we seek His help. And as Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles has promised, family history work holds so many blessings for those on both sides of the veil: “God will strengthen, help, and uphold us; and He will sanctify to us our deepest distress. When we gather our family histories and go to the temple on behalf of our ancestors, God fulfills many of these promised blessings simultaneously on both sides of the veil.” 1 The Lord directs this work, and when you trust Him, He can work miracles for you and your family as you strive to gather Israel.

Answer: I struggled as a child. I had a wonderful family and didn’t go through any obvious tragedies, but I always seemed to feel angry at myself and those around me. I would take these feelings out on my siblings. The more I mistreated them, the worse I felt. And yet I couldn’t seem to stop. This behavior drove a wedge between me and my family members. When I was 12 years old, I thought I was an evil, rotten, worthless person. I thought everyone would be better off without me.
Answer: I remember one time at the doctor’s office, the pediatrician asked Mom if she had ever heard her children say, “I wish I’d never been born.” And Mom answered, “No, all of the kids are fine.” I was surprised that Mom didn’t know I had thought about killing myself. So I tried to tell her what I was going through. But she acted so shocked that it made me never want to talk about it again. I pretended that I hadn’t really meant it.
Answer: Yes, but I didn’t really understand what a testimony was. I always knew deep down that there was a God, but Satan was working hard to convince me to doubt everything else. So I started wondering if the entire Church was wrong. Fortunately, I had some great Young Women leaders who were inspired to help me and show me a lot of love. One of them in particular helped me start feeling better about myself.
Answer: A bright spot was my Young Women class. I had a teacher who taught right at my level. She’s since moved away, and I wish I could tell her what she meant to me. I don’t remember what she taught exactly, but I remember feeling like I belonged there.
Another thing that really helped were temple trips. Even though I often felt worthless and didn’t think anyone cared about me, I enjoyed the spark of light and goodness of the temple. I often felt the Spirit there. One trip in particular made a difference. It started out bad because one of the older girls said something hurtful to me. But later that day, she apologized and gave me a hug. And I learned that I really liked hugs! After that, I asked her for a hug every Sunday. One Sunday I sat down in sacrament meeting without getting a hug from her. And she came up to me and said, “Where’s my hug?” with a smile. I felt so surprised and special that she sought me out and showed me love. She and I became closer and closer friends. I know hugs don’t help everyone, but they helped me.
Answer: Sure! She was the craziest, most energetic person I have ever known. She seemed to have never-ending amounts of happiness to share. She greeted me with so much enthusiasm and love every Sunday and gave me a hug. Her dose of goodness seemed to be just what I needed. I would carry it with me during the week. Over time, I began to accept that what she said was true. The Spirit was working on me. This is when my behavior finally started to improve in a lasting way. And my suicidal thoughts, which I’d had about a year, went away, though I still had to work on how I felt about myself.
Answer: Another turning point was when I began to volunteer at a nonprofit organization each week with my older brother and my mom. I was sometimes the only volunteer on my team who showed up regularly, so my supervisor counted on me. I found I really liked that. For example, one time we were cleaning up together, and she got called away to do something else. I kept sweeping and working hard. When she came back, she said that I had really good initiative and gave me so many compliments. And it felt so good. I realized that working hard and doing a good job was fun. Helping was fun! So I began to try my hardest to be the best volunteer that I could be. I gained enough experience to train other volunteers. I developed a passion for this organization and made friends.
Photograph from Getty Images
During this time, my behavior continued to change in positive ways as I felt the Spirit increase in my life. Over the next couple of years, I made friends again with my family members. I started feeling like a good person instead of a bad person. I became a happier person. People even commented on how much I smiled. And my happiness no longer depended on having a leader saying good things at church. My testimony of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ was growing, and I could feel Their love for me.
Answer: My testimony keeps growing stronger. I know now that Heavenly Father loves every one of us—including me. I know the Book of Mormon is the word of God. I know that no matter what mistakes we have made, we can come back to goodness. We can repent through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Anyone can return to Him again.
Answer: Please, if you are experiencing low self-worth, or depression, or want to die, or any other feelings like that, reach out for help. Go to a parent, a youth leader, a former Primary teacher, a bishop, even a friend—anyone you feel you can trust. I promise you that Heavenly Father does not want you to die. He wants you to live and feel joy. He wants you to feel His love. Turn to Jesus Christ. He can help you throughout your trials. He knows everything you are going through. Meanwhile, Satan is the one who tells you lies about yourself. Ignore him. He wants you to fail. Heavenly Father wants you to succeed.
Answer: Honestly, I still have a hard time accepting compliments or believing good things about myself sometimes. And I think insults hurt me more than they hurt most people, even if they’re just a joke. I still sometimes have a hard time believing that people love me until I feel convinced. But overall, I like myself and who I am becoming. It is a glorious feeling!

I have never regretted getting close to someone to more genuinely serve him or her. I do, however, regret the times I have failed to do so. Many years ago I was practicing law at a firm in Salt Lake City. Every morning I would drive to the light-rail station near my house, park my car, and take the train into downtown Salt Lake. One morning I was running very late. I parked my car just as a train pulled into the station, and I rushed toward it. Ordinarily I had more time to evaluate the cars and select the car that appeared to have the most open seating. This time, though, I rushed onto the closest car. To my surprise and delight, I found the car completely empty. But as soon as I sat down, I understood why.
An elderly man in worn and heavily soiled clothes sat slumped and crumpled on the floor at the opposite end of the car. His fingernails were long and jagged, his hair was dirty, and it was clear from the smell in the car that he had not bathed in some time. My heart ached for him. Some part of me wanted to help him, but I didn’t know how. I worried about embarrassing him or embarrassing myself by trying to help. I worried about being late for work and about getting my clothes dirty.
I wavered too long. A couple of stations down the track, a man, dressed as if he too had a job downtown, entered the car near where the old man sat. Instead of turning around and finding a different car, as many others had done, he reached down, pulled the man up toward him, wrapped his arms around him, and gently helped him off the train.
I don’t know what happened after that. But the rescuer did not get back on the train. He likely didn’t make it to work that morning. He probably got his clothes dirty. He got physically close and gave of himself. I wish I had had the courage to do that. But I am also grateful for that lesson. I am working on better recognizing and seizing opportunities to love my neighbor—el prójimo.

A lot of young men find ways to pay for their missions. But Patric Balck has found what he calls “an ideal place to work.”
Patric, 18, a newly ordained elder in the Handen Ward, is a groundskeeper and apprentice gardener at the Stockholm Temple. For four years now, he has spent his working hours mowing lawns, trimming trees and bushes, and tending flowers, all under the direction of the head groundskeeper.
“It’s more than just a job,” Patric says. “It gives me an opportunity to talk to nonmember friends and tourists. I’ve given out copies of the Book of Mormon. I try to make people who visit the grounds feel at home. And, of course, I try to make sure the grounds look good.”
Patric says the temple is a wonderful place to work, “because of the calm feeling that is always here.” He says he notices a new interest in religion among young people in Sweden, and that he’s eager to serve a mission and find out if that same interest is growing elsewhere.
Editor’s note: Since this story was written, Patric has received his call and is currently serving in the Idaho Boise Mission.

I would first like to tell you a little story about Elder LeGrand Richards. I choose him as my subject because he represents the qualities that I want to talk about tonight. Brother Richards was at a conference about a year ago, when he was in his ninety-fifth year. At the conference at which he reorganized a stake, he sat on the stand, and the choir sang a beautiful rendition, and he thought they were so outstanding that he turned around to the choir leader and said, “I’ll bet you could sing ‘The Battle Hymn of the Republic,’ couldn’t you?”
The choir leader said, “Yes, I think we could.”
He said, “Good. I’d liked to hear it sung at the end of this conference today.”
In and of itself, that doesn’t seem like a very unusual thing, but unbeknown to Brother Richards, sitting halfway back in the audience was a man who had been inactive and who decided that he’d go to conference, and if the choir sang “The Battle Hymn of the Republic,” he would know that it was a signal from heaven that he was supposed to be active again.
A most unusual series of events—except that isn’t where it ends. Because he was there and made the decision to become active again, when they reorganized his ward bishopric a week later, he was called to be a counselor in that bishopric. He already had his answer, and he knew what he would need to do. Then he recounted the story—this spiritual little story out of one of the many pages of Latter-day Saint stories throughout the world in which the Spirit of our Father in Heaven guides us.

When I was in the sixth grade, my class went to the Marin Headlands (California) State Park for a weeklong field trip. After a long drive on the bus, we unpacked our belongings and settled in to our bunk beds. We started talking excitedly about what activities lay ahead of us over the next week. Slowly, the conversation changed, and somehow the subject of religion was brought up. One person after another briefly stated what faith they belonged to. I didn’t want anyone to know that I didn’t go to church and was different from them. However, they noticed that I wasn’t participating in the discussion.
“What are you?” my friend asked curiously.
“I don’t go to church, so I guess I’m nothing.”
“You can’t be nothing. You have to be something!”
I decided to ask my mom what she was, because I thought that whatever she was, I must be the same. “Mom, everyone in my group at camp goes to church except me. They told me what religions they were and when they asked me what I was, I told them that I was nothing. I’m nothing, right?”
“Yes, I guess that’s right,” my mom said assuredly.
“But they said I have to be something,” I complained.
My mom repeated herself, “If you don’t belong to a particular church or religious group, then you are no religion at all.”
Two years went by, and I didn’t think too much about religion or the religious discussion we had had until my best friend invited me to attend a camp with her during the summer. After getting my parents’ approval, I excitedly told my friend that I could go. There were a lot of fun activities but also classes about principles and stories in the Bible that were brand new to me. I enjoyed learning about them, and I learned how to look up scriptures in my new Bible given to me by my friend. By the end of the week, I was “saved.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but there were other people that were “saved” too.
I asked my parents if it was all right if I went to church with my best friend’s family every Sunday. They agreed. Unfortunately, something came up the next Sunday, and I wasn’t able to go. One week after another went by, and for one reason or another I did not go to church. The good feelings from camp slowly faded away. My freshman year of high school began, but my best friend and I drifted apart. Now I knew there was no chance of going to church with her family.
“Mom, can we go to church?” I asked several times, but I never really got the answer I was looking for. One day was different. Instead of the usual reply, she answered, “Well, I do know of a church we can go to. I know that they teach good things, because I used to go when I was little. I can take you to that church—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” That was the first time I learned she ever went to church, even though I knew my grandparents went to church.
I was more than satisfied with this answer. I was finally on my way to becoming something.
My mom, sister, brother, and I were finally going to church! My grandmother helped by locating which church building to attend in the area where we lived. Looking back, I do remember feeling welcomed.
Over the next few Sundays, I was welcomed like a friend that hadn’t been seen for some time. When people noticed that I was new, they smiled and extended their hand to greet me and introduced themselves. I went to Young Women with the girls. I was 15 and belonged to the Mia Maid class. I quickly made friends despite my shyness. Everyone made me feel comfortable. My sister was in the Beehive class. Being four years old, my brother went to Primary. He didn’t like going by himself, so he always made my mom go with him. I think she enjoyed it. She sang children’s songs and relearned stories from when she was younger.
The missionaries came to our house and taught us the lessons. I was delighted when they came over. Even though they were around 20 years old, they knew a lot about the scriptures and the gospel of Jesus Christ. They had a special presence and a warm glow about them. I soon found out that other members of the Church had that glow as well, including my Young Women teacher, who always let me know how happy she was to have me in her class.
I became good friends with a girl named Julia. We decided to be “buddies” at girls camp. Even though I don’t like camping or hiking very much, I really enjoyed the entire experience. There was a different feeling at this camp. Our counselors made a special effort to see that we were having a good time and that everyone was included in all the activities we participated in. During the week, we had devotionals, a nature walk to learn about different plants, a first-aid class, and campfire skits. There was also a service project that everyone in the camp happily participated in. In fact, the service project table was always crowded with volunteers. All through the week there was a sense of organization, cooperation, and friendship.
On Saturday morning, the last day, everyone got together around the campfire, and whoever wanted to stood up and told the others of their testimony of the Church and expressed their gratitude for their family, friends, and what a great and memorable experience they had at camp. Most of them cried while they talked, and I cried along with them. I was surprised to see my sister go up on stage. She said how happy she was to come to this Church and how thankful she was for her family, especially me. That was one of the first times she had ever expressed her love for me as her sister. Once she sat down, I got up and sat next to her. I told her how grateful I was for what she said, and we cried together. We really made a special connection.
We continued going to church and taking the missionary lessons. As the weeks went by, I learned much more about the Church. I wanted to do the right things. I began reading the Bible and the Book of Mormon, praying, eating good food, dressing modestly, and trying to live a Christian life. After trying all these things, I felt good about myself.
My mother, who had not wanted to go to church, continued to participate in the missionary lessons and continued to take us to church every Sunday. We made the decision to be baptized, and my mother, sister, and I became members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on June 3, 2000. This was a decision that has changed all of our lives. My brother was too young to be baptized, and my stepfather did not share in our beliefs, but he always supported all of us in our Church-related activities and meetings.
We now have numerous friends that we would not otherwise have if we had not gone to church. We participate in many community service projects and have become happier people. I went on to receive my Young Women in Excellence award and attend community college. After high school, I became active in the single adults ward, where I met a wonderful returned missionary. We were married and have now had our first child.
Through all these experiences in the Church, our family has grown closer, and we are striving to become an eternal family. Seven years after our baptism, both my stepfather and my little brother made the decision to join the Church and were baptized together on January 20, 2007.

Zachary found the shiny star the Sunday before Christmas. He asked Mommy, “Where does it go?”
“I think I know,” she said. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
Zachary looked at the Christmas tree, but the star at the top was still there. “Do you know where this star goes?” he asked Daddy.
“I think I know,” Daddy said. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
Zachary looked at Mommy’s ears, then said to himself, “It’s too big to be one of Mommy’s earrings.”
He asked his big brother, Keith, “Do you know where this star goes?”
“I think I know,” Keith told him. “You see if you can find where it belongs.”
“OK,” Zachary said. He closed his eyes tightly and thought. But he couldn’t think where the star belonged. He went to play with the nativity scene while he waited for family home evening to start. As he tried to stand the angel on top of the stable, he had an idea.
When family home evening started, Daddy asked, “Who has something to share with us?”
“I do,” said Zachary. He put the star on top of the stable in the nativity scene. “Here is where the star goes—above Baby Jesus.”

I left my parents’ home, when I was 21 and went to stay with my uncle. I started going to the college at the Institut Superiéur des Techniques Appliquées.

Lacking money to pay for food or transportation, I still went to school, sometimes doing the auto stop, begging for help. I cried sometimes standing on the street—waiting and waiting. I never felt discouraged by my situation. I did that for three years. Then I attended another university for five more years. It was difficult, but I never gave up.

I still remember my dad’s counsel, “My son, if you do not learn the cost of a loaf of bread, you will never know what your life truly means.”

I started doing small jobs here and there. I tutored students. I did everything that was honorable to do. Sometimes people mocked me, but I knew what I was doing. It was for my life.

With my small income, I paid my tithing and saved to pay for my education. I will always be grateful to my mentors, my parents, my priesthood leaders, and friends who were there to encourage me. Those experiences in my early life helped to build who I am today.

It was Sunday, and my family and I were attending the dedication services of a newly remodeled meetinghouse in our area. Just a few minutes before sacrament meeting, the stake president asked me to please drive to our ward building, three kilometers away, to retrieve an item he needed. I had just enough time to get there and back. While completing that simple errand, I had an experience that touched me spiritually—a wonderful reminder of what is important.
With just a few blocks left to go to return to the meeting, I saw ahead of me two bicycles, one large and the other quite a bit smaller, each being ridden very energetically. I recognized the cyclists at once. They were two people I knew well, a good brother from my ward and his young son. They were riding to church—just as they did every Sunday.
As I watched them, there came to my mind an image out of the future, when that boy—and his father too—will remember those bicycle rides. I thought, “What a great example this father is setting and what an eternal influence he is going to have on the precious son God has given him. That boy,” I reflected, “may grow up to cherish that experience, and perhaps he will repeat it when he becomes a father himself.”
As I caught up to them, there sprang to mind an image of my childhood memories of my own father, who used to carry me on the handlebar of his bicycle. The close relationship that develops from these kinds of experiences is a pleasure to have and tender to remember.
When I got to church, I greeted the bicycle riders with a smile and received the same in return as they expressed silent happiness to be attending church. At priesthood meeting that afternoon, I had a chance to express to this brother how impressed I had been with the picture of righteous fatherhood I had seen earlier. His face brightened, and perhaps he was surprised because what I described was such a common occurrence for him.

Among those who Joseph, 15, and his 19-year-old sister, Alexandra, helped bring to the gospel are their mother and father.
“Our parents came to our baptism,” Joseph said. “It was outside, in a swimming pool. The birds and crickets were singing in the background. The spirit was so strong, and our parents became more interested. The next day, in sacrament meeting, we were asked to bear our testimonies. Dad had to work, but Mom was there, and she recorded us so he could hear us too.”
Joseph and Alexandra quickly became active and energetic members. They both play musical instruments, the recorder and the guitar, and they love to sing, both hymns and folk music. In the ward, their love of music is infectious. So is their love of the gospel. They frequently help the missionaries and are great aids in integrating investigators, especially their parents.
“We would share our Church activities with our parents at dinner,” says Joseph. “We would invite them to come to church with us, and they often came.”
It was really only a matter of time before the senior Szamosfalvis were baptized—by their son, Joseph, of course. And once they joined, Church membership drastically changed their lives. Not only did Joseph Sr. change jobs so he could attend church on Sundays, but he sold the family vineyard and the family bar. They feel the Lord has opened all sorts of doors for them and look forward to a bright future.

I had always just assumed that when you got into ninth grade, you went to seminary. So I was surprised when I received a call from the bishopric asking me if I wanted to enroll.
I thought, “Sure. Why not?”
The next thing I knew, it was the first day of ninth grade, and I was on my way to released-time seminary. I was pretty scared and not very excited. “Yeah,” I thought, “another church meeting to go to every day. What could my teacher possibly have to teach us every single day? And I was supposed to do this for four years? What if I didn’t know anyone in my class? What if I didn’t like my teacher? What if I just didn’t want to go?”
But I forced myself out the door of my high school and took that long trek to the seminary building. When I got there, I looked for my name to see which class I was in. I then waited for someone I knew so I wouldn’t have to be alone. Little did I know that in seminary you are never alone. I finally gave up waiting and went to class. As I walked into the classroom, I was greeted by a warm smile and a friendly handshake. That’s when things started to get better.
I took a seat, and as I looked around at all of the beautiful pictures on the walls, my friends started to come in. Friends! Now I could have fun.
Class finally started, and we all told a little about ourselves. Then the teacher, Brother Toma, introduced himself and told us about seminary—how important it was to come every day and how there would be gospel study, fun activities, and sometimes even treats!
I couldn’t believe how fast that class went by. It was so much fun; I didn’t want to leave. When the bell rang, I had to drag myself back to the school.
When I returned to school, I could instantly tell a difference. My school had never seemed so worldly before. I was amazed at how strong the Spirit had been in that seminary building, even on an orientation day.

I once had a visit from a young Catholic priest. I asked him why he had come, and he replied, “I came to see you.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “I have been searching for certain concepts that I have not been able to find. But I think I am finding them now in the Mormon community.”
That led to a half-hour conversation. I told him, “Father, when your heart begins to tell you things that your mind does not, then you are getting the Spirit of the Lord.”
He smiled and said, “I think that’s happening to me already.”
“Then don’t wait too long,” I said to him.
A few weeks later I received a telephone call from him. He said, “Next Saturday I am going to be baptized a member of the Church, because my heart has told me things my mind did not know.”

As some of you may know, the Church operates a number of elementary and secondary schools in the Pacific Islands. One of those schools located in Apia, Western Samoa, is called the Church College of Western Samoa. In 1975, during the time I was a Church Educational System zone administrator over that area, we found ourselves unable to fill two positions in the science department of the college with qualified Latter-day Saints. The positions were therefore advertised through the local paper. To our surprise, two highly qualified Indian women appeared at the college office dressed in colorful saris. They were interviewed and hired, and they started teaching the following week. As the school year progressed, their exposure to the Church through day-to-day contact with students, faculty, and staff heightened their interest in knowing more about the Mormon faith.

At this point in the story, it is important to understand how these two outstanding young women from India—one of the most densely populated countries in the world—happened to be in Samoa—one of the least densely populated countries in the world. In 1975 the Western Samoan government, working through the United Nations, requested the assistance of an internationally known tropical agricultural scholar to come to Samoa and assess their agricultural policies. Through an extensive international search, Dr. Edwin Dharmaraju was identified, and he consented to spend two years consulting with the Western Samoan government. On this assignment he was accompanied by Mrs. Dharmaraju and their two daughters, Lata and Asha. The Dharmarajus had arrived in Samoa just a few weeks prior to our advertisement for science teachers.

At the conclusion of each school day, Lata and Asha would go home to their apartment in Apia and share with their parents not only the experiences they were having in teaching at the college but also their intense interest in what they were learning about the Mormon faith. It was not long until the family requested missionaries to come to their home and teach them in more depth about the doctrines of the Church. In a few short weeks, all four members of the Dharmaraju family were baptized. Several months after their baptisms, Brother and Sister Dharmaraju traveled back India to celebrate the wedding of their daughter Lata.

The following is a quote taken from their report of that visit.

A typical Indian marriage is a unique occasion for all families to meet. Having experienced several choice blessings since joining the Church, we felt it was our duty to share the restored gospel with our families in India. We therefore took several copies of the Book of Mormon along with us. Lata’s wedding took place in Hyderabad. The occasion provided us an opportunity to talk about the Church to all of our family members who had assembled. We also distributed the copies of the Book of Mormon. We found our family members taking an active interest in wanting to know more about the Church.

After their two-week visit in Hyderabad, the Dharmaraju family returned to Western Samoa and soon began receiving letters from their families in India requesting more information about the Church. Dr. Dharmaraju wrote a letter to Brother Arthur Haycock, secretary to President Spencer W. Kimball, informing him about his family in India and their desire to know more about the Church. Brother Haycock responded in a letter stating that President Kimball was aware of the request and that “the matter of the work in India is being very carefully considered.”

During one of my frequent visits to Western Samoa, Dr. Dharmaraju informed me of his correspondence with the Church leaders in Salt Lake City and indicated he was eagerly awaiting word that a couple would be appointed by the First Presidency to go to India to work with members of his family. Several weeks later, and just prior to my again returning to Western Samoa, I was contacted by President Cannon of the International Mission and told that the First Presidency had authorized him to extend a three-month mission call to Dr. and Mrs. Dharmaraju to return during their normal leave of absence and serve a three-month mission to their family in India. Two weeks later, as I arrived back in Apia, I was met at the plane by a pale and extremely humble Dr. Dharmaraju and his wife. He rushed over to me, embraced me, and whispered in my ear, “Brother Wade, you will never in all the world guess what is happening to us!” Believe me, there were several moments of tears and extreme emotion as we stood there on the airport Tarmac. The Dharmarajus accepted the call and went on their three-month mission to their homeland.

Following are excerpts from their March 31, 1979, report to the First Presidency, which Brother Dharmaraju shared with me.

We left Apia for India on December 9, 1978. We had brief stopovers in Suva, Auckland, Sidney, Singapore, and Kuala Lumpur. We were now on the plane to India. Suddenly we realized the magnitude of our responsibilities as missionaries, and we were seized with fear. Anything wrong said or done by us would hurt the Church and damage its future. We had several doubts. Were we capable of providing all the answers to the questions that would be asked of us about the Church? How many of them would agree to be baptized? As these anxieties bothered us and the plane was nearing India, Sister Dharmaraju opened her Doctrine and Covenants for comfort, and these were the words that came to her:

“Lift up your heart and rejoice, for the hour of your mission is come; and your tongue shall be loosed, and you shall declare glad tidings of great joy unto this generation” (D&C 31:3).
“Yea, I will open the hearts of the people, and they will receive you. And I will establish a church by your hand” (D&C 31:7).

We read these verses again and again, and the words uplifted us and gave us courage as the hour of our mission was fast approaching. Whatever anxieties we had earlier slowly disappeared as we arrived in Hyderabad, India. My parents and our older son David had already arrived earlier by train, and also my sister and brother-in-law Ramish from Iran. All of the other families had already assembled at my brother’s place. Without wasting any further time, we told all the members of our families that had assembled in my younger brother Henry’s house the purpose of our visit. They were very happy that we had come and, therefore, we talked on several topics at great length. We spoke of God’s kingdom in the latter days and the restoration of the gospel and how the Book of Mormon is a new witness for Christ and it fulfills the Bible prophecies. We mentioned to them the restoration of the priesthood authority and the ordinances of baptism. We also discussed the Sabbath day, the law of tithing, and the Word of Wisdom. Finally, we stressed to them the need to study the gospel, to strengthen their individual testimonies, and to enter into the waters of baptism.

On the suggestion of our families, we fixed the baptismal service for December 27, 1978. My younger brother, Henry, placed at our disposal the water pool in the compound of his house for the baptism. The pool was cleaned up and painted, and fresh water was let in. This was the day for which Sister Dharmaraju and myself were praying for and looking forward to. All of us were dressed in white—the ladies in saris and the men in loose-fitting Indian-style jackets and trousers.

The first to be baptized were my parents. It was a thrilling moment for me when I stood in the water with my father, holding his hand. I said, “Samuel David, having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.” And the thrill continued as I held my mother’s hand and my son’s hand and those of my brothers and sisters and repeated these words. I baptized a total of 18 members of my family on this day. Immediately after the baptisms, I conducted the confirmation service the same evening.

The next day Sister Dharmaraju and myself traveled about six hours by train and baptized four more persons of my family. These baptisms had to be done on the banks of a river that is about two miles away from downtown.

In all, I baptized 22 persons during the present visit to India. I also ordained four persons to the Aaronic priesthood.

From Hyderabad we went to see my wife’s parents, who live approximately 16 hours away by train. Perhaps most of the Church members are unaware that, for the last 14 months, Sister Dharmaraju’s father, Reverend P. Sreenivasam, has been engaged in the translation of the Book of Mormon into the local language of Hyderabad State, called Telugu. This language is spoken by nearly 50 million people. Reverend Sreenivasam is an ordained Baptist minister. While we were at his place, he showed us more than 500 full-scale, neatly handwritten sheets of the translation. He has been translating the Book of Mormon at the rate of a little more than a page per day and expects to complete the translation in another three to four months. Arrangements will be made with the Church to print the translated version of the Book of Mormon in India as soon as it is ready and approved. At this moment in time we just cannot visualize the impact this book will have on the more than 40 million people living in Hyderabad State. We consider this our greatest single humble contribution to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in India.

Before I conclude this report, I would like to submit in all humility that whatever work we did in India is just a minute droplet in the ocean. One must realize that India has a population of more than 610 million and is the most densely populated country in the world next to China. We have just sown the seed for the potential Church development in India. If my mission has been a success, it is primarily due to the hard work and the all-out support given to me by Sister Dharmaraju.

Several years ago I visited an isolated oasis deep in the Gobi Desert in China. Some 80 miles from the nearest town, the oasis was in a small canyon that had been occupied by a handful of Buddhist monks for hundreds of years. In this incredibly isolated spot, the monks could avoid the temptations of the world and focus only on Buddhist teachings. In Latter-day Saint terms, these monks were trying to flee Babylon.
Most of us have elected not to dwell in total isolation but to live in the civilized world. This decision requires us to interact daily with the world and to face the challenge of doing business in Babylon even as we attempt to follow the Lord’s command to “go . . . out . . . from Babylon, from the midst of wickedness” (D&C 133:14).

Several months later, on one of my trips home, I arrived to find my father reading a book. I was curious, and so was my mother.

“What book is that?” she asked.

“The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ,” he replied, adding, “One of the neighbors gave it to me and invited me to read it.”

Two weeks later, two young men visited the house and introduced themselves as missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They seemed to really care about my father. The following day, they began to teach him the gospel.

Because I was living away from home, I was not able to talk to the missionaries. But about a month later, I received word that my father had been baptized. He sent me a message, telling me to come home so his whole family could learn about the true Church. My mother supported my father’s wishes wholeheartedly.

And that is how the missionaries came to teach us all. We were baptized on 19 November 1988. It was the most wonderful day of my life.

I am grateful for my father’s example, and I am grateful for that one person who cared enough to share the Book of Mormon with him.

My friends, let's go back in time to late November of 1989. I was a senior attending Malad High School (Idaho); the Oakland A's had just won the World Series; popular hairstyles were spiked for boys and big hair (i.e. lots of Aqua Net) for the girls; Milli Vanilli was at the top of the pop charts; cell phones and the Internet were not available to the common man; and would you believe Robin Williams, the guy who played Mork and Mrs. Doubtfire, inspired a nation with this phrase from the movie Dead Poets Society: "Carpe diem. Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary."
With that background, I would like to tell a story that my mother wrote about a family trip to Oregon.
It was very cold, about 34 degrees, with sleeting rain through the Columbia River Gorge. Da'lynne, Laura, Zane, Dad (Richard), and I (DayOnna) were in the gray Starcraft van heading back to Malad, Idaho, from Aloha, Oregon, where we had spent the Thanksgiving holiday with Grandma Bowen. Roger and Tyler stayed back in Malad because of basketball practices.
We had a bed set up in back of the van so anyone could lie down and try to sleep because the trip took nearly 14 hours to complete. Dad drove us to John Day but was tired of fighting the weather, so he climbed in the back to rest, and I started driving. As usual, all the kids were fighting over the front seat, yelling back and forth, "Shotgun!" Zane, eight years old and the youngest child, had no say in the matter; therefore, he was sitting in his usual spot on top of the cooler between the two front seats.
Times have changed. We had no car seats for kids and no seat belt laws, nor cell phones nor iPads to entertain the kids. Can you imagine? Continuing from my mom's journal entry:

I had been driving about an hour when everyone began complaining that they needed to go to the bathroom. The Boardman rest stop was coming up, so I pulled in. With Dad asleep in the back of the van, all the kids and I got out to use the facilities. When I got back to the car, I asked the kids if we were all there, and they responded, "Yes."

We started down the road with the intention to get across the Blue Mountains before it got dark and temperatures dropped to freezing. When I hit Pendleton, the kiddy choir started up again, all professing their undying hunger. I didn't want to pull over, but there was a McDonald's at the last Pendleton exit just before we started up the Blue Mountains range. I pulled in to the McDonald's parking lot and turned off the car. I turned to Zane and asked him to wake Dad and get some money. He got a funny look on his face like "oh no!" I asked him again to wake Dad and get money, and he responded, "I can't; he is not here."

"What! Where is he?" I asked.

Zane replied, "Back at the rest stop." Apparently Dad woke up after the girls, Zane, and I went to the restroom. As Zane came out of the men's room, he saw Dad go in but didn't think to tell us about it until I asked him to get the money from Dad.

Needless to say, I turned around and hot-footed it back to Boardman going 90 miles an hour. It took an hour to backtrack.[1]

Now, let me be very clear here. What my dad went through was not a pleasant experience. He left his coat in the car and tried to stay warm by running his hands under the hand dryer in the men's restroom. Yet he would be the first one to tell you that he is as guilty of forgetfulness as the next person.

Thomas (that is not his real name) was one who had lost his way. We became acquainted at a special fireside attended by members one doesn’t normally see on Sunday. He was then 35 years old and had not been active in the Church for some 20 years. The day before, Thomas’s father had invited him to attend the fireside. Thomas said, “I’ll think about it.” I quote now from a letter written by his father:
“Thirty minutes before the fireside, [Thomas] called and asked me to pick him up. I can’t explain the anticipation I felt as we walked into the room [to join] you and about 40 others. There was a special feeling and spirit there that touched [Tom’s] heart and he went home determined to read again the passages in the Book of Mormon that you had outlined.
“This led to a reading of the whole book and the beginning of his payment of tithing. He began to see his life in a different light. … He stopped using drugs and caffeine. He continued to read, not only the Book of Mormon, but also the Doctrine and Covenants. He started to attend sacrament meetings and … literally began to be a different person. In fact, we jokingly asked him, ‘What have you done with our son?’
“The great blessing to us was when he was interviewed by the bishop … to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood. This has truly been an answer to prayers which have been offered in his behalf for almost 20 years” (personal letter, 1 Aug. 1997).

Before he was called as a General Authority, Marion G. Romney was a state legislator and a prominent member of the Democratic Party in Utah. As the 1936 election neared, it was viewed by both parties as a referendum on the record of the administration of President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Roosevelt's opponents pressed him to declare himself willing to abide by the decisions of the Supreme Court. When he would not do that, the Deseret News published an unattributed front-page editorial the Saturday before the election (without mentioning Roosevelt by name) saying that the record of one of the candidates could be construed to indicate he would press for unconstitutional legislation. The editorial urged Church members to vote to protect the Constitution.

President Romney's biographer records that, when the editorial appeared, Romney was stunned. As a Democratic politician working on the re-election committee of the democratic governor of Utah, he felt that his political life had collapsed around him. It was only an editorial, and some would argue it was a legal matter and not an ecclesiastical one, but it was on the front page of the newspaper considered the voice of the Church.

He began to fast. He went to his law office, locked the door, and when he left after three hours of anguished prayer, he had received an assurance that the editorial was inspired and had been written by the Church President. He believed he had no choice but to resign from the governor's committee, which he did, and then spent his efforts from that time until the election trying to dissuade his friends from voting for Franklin Roosevelt. The election was a landslide. Democratic party candidates were swept into power at all levels of government. President Romney soon realized he'd made a costly political decision, but he believed he had done the right thing and that was enough for him.