Gospel Story Finder

We’ve decided Georg can’t play with us anymore,” Johnny said as he stood up straight.
“Why not?” David asked.
“Come on, you know!” Johnny answered.
“No, I don’t. Georg might be different from us, but that’s no reason to keep him from playing,” David defended.
“Different? Georg is more than different. He’s stupid.”
“He can’t understand, but he’s not stupid!” David exclaimed.
“If you ask me, not understanding is what stupid is,” one of the other boys joined in.
Eleven-year-old David looked helplessly at his cousin. Georg’s innocent face was one big smile as he watched David, who wanted to run and hide and never have to look at that smile again. But that was impossible.
Georg’s parents had died, and Georg had come all the way from his home in Denmark to live with David. David looked again at Johnny and his other friends. Their faces glared from a circle around him, waiting for an answer.
“All right, I’ll take Georg home,” David sighed.
Angry with himself for not knowing what to do, and angry with Georg, David took hold of his cousin’s arm and started toward home.
“No, David,” Georg said as he stood still. “Ball.”
“Georg, you don’t understand,” David said, feeling very helpless. “The guys won’t let you play with them anymore.”
Georg’s smile faded and his eyebrows pushed together very puzzled. Then just as suddenly he smiled again, “Yah, Davy.”
“Georg, they don’t …” David started to explain, and then he realized that Georg wouldn’t understand anyway. “Oh, never mind. Come on!”
David walked a little faster, thinking hard about what had happened. Why did Georg have to come live with me? Why don’t I have an ordinary cousin like everyone else? One who can speak English!
Soon they were home. Georg went to play in the family room and David went to his room and stretched out on his bed to think some more.
“Are you sick?” Mother asked as she came into David’s room to put away some clothes.
“No,” David answered. “I’m just thinking about something.”
“You certainly must be thinking hard. Can I help you?” Mother asked as she sat on the bed.
“I don’t know.” David stared at the ceiling. “Mom, why is Georg the way he is?”
Mother looked surprised, “What do you mean?”
“You know. He’s—well, he’s different,” David replied.
“How do you mean different? He’s the same size as you. As a matter of fact, he’s wearing your clothes. Georg likes the same things you do—chocolate bars and pancakes. And he gets happy or sad over the same things you do.”
“But, Mom, he’s …” David stopped, not sure of how to say what he meant.
“Did something happen today?” Mother asked.
“Yes, the guys wouldn’t let Georg play because they said he isn’t smart enough.”
“Georg is very smart. He doesn’t speak the same language we do, but he’s learning fast. Georg has other traits that make him very special, though, and you don’t need to speak the same language to understand those.”
David looked puzzled. “But my friends don’t want Georg around, and I don’t blame them. He just doesn’t understand when we try to tell him how to do something. What am I supposed to do?”
“I can’t tell you,” Mother advised. “That is something you have to decide for yourself.”
Mother smiled as she stood up. “There are two things you should remember, though. First, Georg loves you very much. Second, Georg may not be able to understand yet, but he is a child of God just like you and your other friends, and Heavenly Father loves him just as He loves you.”
Suddenly Georg ran into the room. “Come, Davy!” he cried breathlessly.
Mother winked at David as she left the room.
“Come, Davy,” Georg urged.
“Oh, all right,” David said, not really wanting to go. “I’ll come.”
Georg took hold of David’s arm as he guided him to the couch. Then he opened a book and started to read. “Vay,” he sounded out a word carefully, smiling that happy smile David knew so well.
“Vay?” David repeated.
“Vay.” Georg’s smile grew bigger and bigger.
David looked at the book. “We! The word is we.”
Georg looked disappointed, but then he smiled again. “Vee,” he said.
David shook his head back and forth. “No, we,” he said as he turned away from his cousin and went back to his room.
Why? Why? Why? he kept thinking as he flopped on the bed. If Georg could only understand, we could have so much fun together!
David had been on his bed only a moment when he heard a soft knock at the door. The door opened slowly, and Georg’s blue eyes peered cautiously around the door.
“Davy?” he asked softly.
David didn’t answer. He didn’t even look at Georg, who walked over to the bed and sat down. Georg spoke slowly, but it was no use. David couldn’t understand. The words just didn’t mean anything to him.
David looked at Georg. He doesn’t understand what I say, but I don’t understand him either. For the first time David began to wonder what Georg must think of him. Maybe Georg thinks I’m stupid because I don’t understand him.
David looked at Georg again. He was still talking as if he were desperately trying to explain something. All at once David knew exactly what Georg was trying to say! He wanted to be friends. He was telling David how much he liked him. David didn’t need to understand Danish, for he could see it in Georg’s face.
Georg had finished talking now, and he sat waiting for an answer. David felt ashamed. Then he smiled and Georg smiled back. Both boys understood without words!
“Dinner is ready,” Mother called.
David motioned to Georg, and they both hurried from the room.
As David passed his mother in the hall, he stopped. “I was wrong, Mom. It isn’t Georg who doesn’t understand—it’s me. And, you know, Georg may not understand English, but he sure understands friendship. And he’s teaching me. Georg really is a special friend.”
Mother smiled. “You know, you’re pretty special yourself,” she replied.
Georg was already at the table. His face was all aglow with his special smile that beamed, “Hi, friend!”
“You know, Mom,” David chuckled, “maybe Georg could teach me Danish!”

Changing habits of nineteen or twenty years’ standing requires a careful persuasion of spirit, a restructured schedule of activities, and a conviction that the new habits will prove more valuable and effective than the old ones. A missionary, newly called, faces the necessity of revising his more worldly tendencies and arranging his life on a spiritual plane. His spirit is willing, and he knows that the main thing is to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ; but how does he make daily preparation to accomplish that goal?
The answers are provided in a five-day program of transition at the Missionary Home in Salt Lake City, Utah. Under the supervision of President and Sister J. Murray Rawson, elders and sisters exchange their individual touches of hesitance, reluctance, and fear, for conviction and confidence. They begin on
Registration is from 9:00 A.M. to 12:00 noon. A sister missionary walks bravely into the room marked “Missionaries—Register Here.” She reports her name, pays a fee to cover meals, and is given a short briefing by a member of the mission presidency as well as written instructions relative to her future for the next eighteen months and instructions to attend her first meeting at 2:00 P.M. Now she somehow wrestles her suitcases upstairs—“Missionaries Only” territory. In her room are seven bunk beds with pink bedspreads, several closets, some mirrors, and another sister lying on one of the beds. She sits up.
“Is that all you brought? Oh no! I’ve overpacked!”
Downstairs two mothers wait, watching missionaries form small groups, shake hands, and ask, “Where are you going?”
Both mothers are smiling; they’re also keeping score.
“Look! There’s another lady missionary there.”
“That’s two we’ve seen.”
By the wall map of mission divisions a father points for his two children.
“Do you want to see where Richard is going?”
Then it’s two o’clock and time for the first meeting and the first rule of missionary life: Missionary time is five minutes early.
The hunt for assigned seats causes some confusion, but soon the missionaries get themselves properly distributed. Seated in front of the sisters are the missionary couples going into the field. One woman confides to the sister next to her, “Look at these clean looking kids. I call them kids. My husband says I will have to get used to calling them elders. You know, it’s exciting to watch them change.”
The meeting begins. “Elders and sisters …” Each meeting is opened and concluded with a song and a prayer. Today’s meeting begins with a welcome from the mission presidency. The group learns that the present group of missionaries represents twenty-seven states of the United States plus Australia and Canada.
Next, Sister Rawson speaks on housekeeping, personal habits, and grooming. Little-known facts of ministerial grooming emerge. The missionaries learn that they can remove grass stains with rubbing alcohol and ballpoint pen marks with hair spray. Then there are talks from the counselors in the mission presidency, President Rees and President Broberg.
After dinner the group is introduced to the missionary discussions, and then President Rawson talks to them about spirituality.
The missionaries then spend a half hour in temple preparation. A more serious mood settles upon them with a deeper realization of their relationship as missionaries to the plan of salvation.
Next comes an introduction to discussion memorization by the teaching director. A few mumbles follow his announcement of the “easy way” to do it.
“I think I have a congenital memorization inadequacy.”
“How about me? I almost failed Primary because I couldn’t memorize the Articles of Faith.”
But then the teaching director concludes his remarks with the fact that sixty percent of the previous group memorized all discussions while still in the Missionary Home and adds his testimony.
“Looks like it’s not impossible after all, doesn’t it?”
Ten-thirty is bedtime. There is a long line of sinks in the women’s dormitory, each equipped with a sister missionary.
“… because the Lord wants me here, that’s why.”
“My goal is to go through every temple in the world.”
“Everyone told me I’d probably be called to some place close, and now just think, Southern Italy. Wow!”
“If someone could just take my make-up case, it would take care of my six excess pounds of luggage.”
“My boyfriend said he’d wait for me, but …”
Back in their bedrooms the sisters kneel together in prayer and know the comfort of feeling their spirits united in a mutual goal: to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ. An exchange of good-nights closes the day, except for a whispered, “The top bunk? I’ve never slept in a bunk bed before.” The light goes out, because in a shorter time than could be possible it’s
“Elders and sisters, it’s 6:15. All hands on deck!” President Rawson’s voice comes through the intercom, and missionaries in various stages of alertness arise and turn to make their beds.
Breakfast is at 6:30 in the new Church Office Building, where all meals are served during the five-day stay in the Missionary Home. The elders extend the sisters the courtesy of allowing them to be first in line at the cafeteria.
“I’m glad the Church doesn’t practice women’s lib!”
“Is there a rule against perfume?”
During breakfast the sisters make the acquaintance of a sister missionary whose family is all grown and married and whose husband is dead. She has been called to the Alabama-Florida Mission and speaks proudly of her children, all of whom graduated from college and were married in the temple.
“The Lord has been so good to me; I could not possibly refuse this call.”
Following breakfast the missionaries meet in the Visitor’s Center for a tour. The Tabernacle Choir broadcast then provides a half hour of enjoyment and relaxation prior to the first classes.
At 10:15 the sisters meet with the wives of the mission presidency for orientation and a question and answer session. The rest of the morning is spent discussing goals, self-improvement, and how to get organized.
After lunch it’s discussion study again. All the teachers are returned missionaries who have been called and set apart to this position. Each has completed a three-month training course.
Sunday morning the teaching staff for the sister missionaries gathers in the dormitory study area for a meeting to review the results of the previous week, check weak points, and assign study groups of six to ten sisters. The supervisor encourages her staff to maintain their enthusiasm and love for the sisters and to stimulate them to strive to reach the goals they have set. A member of the teaching staff reflects on her appreciation for this special calling with the comment:
“Sunday is the best day of the week!”
Sacrament meeting concludes with the testimonies of recent converts and Lamanite missionaries. A convert of one year bears his testimony to a congregation quiet in contemplation and reverence.
There are a few minutes between dinner and the evening classes, so the sisters use the dormitory to discuss mission rules, passports, bicycles, the language, hometowns, and expected conduct.
“We should exercise for a few minutes every day.”
“Let’s run in place; it’s good for your heart.”
“You mean all that walking isn’t going to do anything for our hearts?”
Then it’s back to the discussions again. The sisters approach memorization of the discussions with a concept of key-wording to establish a broad outline of thought patterns and content rather than the mechanical memorization of words, phrases, and sentences.
The legendary Mr. Brown becomes Sister Brown as the sisters pair off to tackle the first discussion.
“I think I make a better Mr. Brown than Elder Jones.” They memorize the first two discussions on Sunday.
Then, after straining their memories for two hours on the discussions, the missionaries strain them again with a class on how to remember names. Finally, it’s time for family prayer, and the day closes in the same peace of spirit with which the missionaries plan to meet
The temple session begins at 6:45, so the sisters get up at 6:15. The automatic protests at the early hour are brief and overshadowed by a low-voiced exchange of reasons for wanting to be part of this aspect of the Lord’s work.
“Every time I open my eyes it hurts.”
“… share something beautiful …”
“… an overwhelming desire to serve the Lord.”
“… feeling of peace as I signed the final papers in the bishop’s office.”
Between the two temple sessions that they attend, the missionaries meet with President Lee in the temple, where he answers any questions they may have about the endowment ceremony and the temple.
A late lunch is followed by a return to the classrooms, where the elders and sisters learn about door approaches and the use of the Book of Mormon in proselyting.
After dinner they memorize discussions three and four.
Two and a half days after their first apprehensive and impatient hours in the Missionary Home, the missionaries begin to feel a sense of purpose and belonging caused by tangible actions as well as their strong desires and aspirations. With this positive assurance they face
The day begins for the sisters with a morning prayer and song, and then a trip to the mailbox. A disconsolate elder stares at his empty box.
“I guess nobody loves me.”
“Sure they do. They were just glad to get rid of you.”
“Yeah! My brother was wearing my clothes even before I left.”
Most of the day Tuesday is spent learning about some important practical matters such as companion relationships, investigator relationships, health problems, auto safety, mission organization, and the daily work schedule.
Sandwiched in between these subjects is a unique little class taught by a member of the mission presidency. It is called “Listening.” In it the missionaries are taught how to listen perceptively and compassionately to others.
After dinner the missionaries memorize discussions five, six, and seven. Actually they have spent every spare minute all day long in concentrated study of the discussions. The time is only a few minutes snatched here and there, but it’s enough for most to get the job done.
It’s been a long day, but time seems to go faster each day. Lights out at 10:30, and more quickly than ever it’s
Today is the last day in the Missionary Home. This evening many of the elders and sisters will leave in buses for the language training missions at Ricks College and BYU. Others will leave on Thursday morning flights for their mission fields.
Everyone looks forward to Wednesday morning, not because it’s their last but because that’s the day the General Authorities speak to them. These leaders bear moving witness of the divine mission of Joseph Smith, of the importance of modern apostles and prophets, of the truth of the gospel, and of the divinity of Christ. They also explain the order of Church government in priesthood correlation, and advise the missionaries regarding their personal conduct. The morning passes far too quickly.
After lunch there is a testimony meeting. It ends with the elders and sisters singing “God Be with You” with some tears but mostly a sense of hope and enthusiasm and minds and hearts filled with words to remember.
“Smile, elders and sisters! These are glad tidings!”
“If you want to have a certain quality, act as if you already had that quality.”
“I told the brethren that the Book of Mormon was the most correct of any book on earth and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts than by any other book.”—Joseph Smith
“The gospel makes bad men good and good men better; it changes human nature.”—David O. McKay
Each missionary takes from the Missionary Home his suitcases, packages, “mission library,” and two special gifts: the gospel and the chance to share it, and the knowledge that he is prepared to succeed.

I think I will never forget the time the Spirit was shown me through the bright blue eyes of a nine-year-old, handicapped girl.
Heather is an intelligent child with a happy giggle, and a determined spirit housed in a body severely restricted because of physical handicaps. The simplest of activities are very difficult for her.
Because she cannot speak, Heather sends messages with her eyes. A direct gaze means yes, and a blink of her eyelids means no. Through a series of questions, gazes, blinks, giggles, and facial expressions, Heather shares her enthusiastic spirit and brings joy to the lives of everyone around her.
As her therapist and teacher for several years, I have sensed many times that for Heather, the veil between heaven and earth seems very thin. This is often true of handicapped children. If Heather could speak, what could she teach me about the things of the Spirit?
One Monday morning, Heather and I visited about the previous weekend. Heather indicated to me that she had attended Primary, so I began singing some Primary songs. A smile broke across her face whenever she recognized a song. I sang her my favorite, “I Wonder When He Comes Again.” Then I asked her if she had a favorite song. Immediately her eyes focused on mine and I was suddenly faced with the challenge of trying to find out which song she loved above all others.
Through a series of questions I discovered that her favorite song was one she had heard in Primary. She wasn’t sure which songbook it was in, but she knew it was about Jesus. I went through every possible song I could think of. To my dismay and Heather’s disappointment, I could not find the right one.
Heather refused to let me give up the search. For some reason she needed to share her favorite song with me. Finally, I agreed to bring my Primary songbooks to school the following day and go through them with her.
On Tuesday morning, Heather let me know that she was determined to find the song—now! We went through the books, but we couldn’t find it. She liked all of the songs, but none of them was the song. In desperation, I told Heather that if her mother could find the song we were looking for, we would sing it. If not, we would have to live with the fact that we couldn’t find it.
The next day, Heather was more determined than ever to find her song. Tucked in her wheelchair was a Church hymnbook. I sat next to her and, page by page, we read through the book. I sang the first phrase of each song, and each time Heather’s eyes closed in a definite no. Halfway through the book, I began to sing: “There is sunshine in my soul today, …”
As if someone had stuck her with a pin, Heather jumped and smiled. Her bright eyes looked directly at me. Together we laughed, feeling thrilled at the completion of our three-day search. “OK, now we can finally sing your favorite song,” I said. She smiled as I sang the first verse, and as I began the chorus she mustered all the effort she could and joined in with occasional sigh-like sounds. As I finished the chorus she looked at me steadily as if to say, “I liked that part.” I was so grateful I had found the song! I asked if she wanted to hear the rest of the verses and she responded with a firm yes. Again I began:
“There’s music in my soul today,
A carol to my King,
And Jesus listening can hear
The songs I cannot sing. …”
(Hymns, number 174.)
Heather’s reaction to those words was so strong that I stopped. I looked at her as I realized the reality and significance of the moment. “Heather, is that what you like about the song?” I asked. “Is that what you want me to know? That Jesus is listening, and he can hear the songs you cannot sing?” She lifted her head and looked me straight in the eyes. The testimony had been borne.
Feeling guided by the Spirit, I asked, “Heather, does Jesus talk to you in your mind and in your heart?” Her look was penetrating.
Knowing her close relationship with the Spirit, there was one more thing I wanted to know. With reverent anticipation I whispered, “Heather, what does he say?” My heart pounded as I viewed the clear look in her eyes as she awaited my questions so she could share her insight. I felt that the Lord gave me the right questions to ask as I took a deep breath and proceeded. “Does he say ‘Heather, I love you’?” Her eyes were radiant as she confirmed that statement. I paused, swallowed, and continued. “Does he say ‘Heather, you’re special’?” Again, yes. I paused again, with a lump in my throat, and then asked, “Does he say, ‘Heather, be patient; I have great things in store for you’?”
Heather’s head became erect; every fiber of her being seemed to be electrified as her eyes penetrated my soul. She knew she was loved. She knew she was special. She knew she only needed to be patient because great things were in store for her.
The moment seemed too sacred for further words. I leaned forward and pressed her cheek against my own. Without words, but through the bright blue windows to her soul, the truth had been made known.
Yes, Heather, Jesus, listening, can hear.

Have you ever found yourself in a conversation where you were suddenly required to remain silent while your point of view was misconstrued and belittled? Such a thing happened to me almost 25 years ago, and the frustration of that unfinished conversation has remained to this day.
As mission president, I had been invited, with others from the Church, to meet with the mayor of one of the cities in our mission. He was cordial as he welcomed us into his office. Our conversation touched upon concerns of the day. Eventually he asked why the Church was doing missionary work in his city.
This was not unexpected. An impression had come to me some weeks before that he would ask this question and what my response should be. I replied, “The gospel of Jesus Christ provides answers and solutions to all of the world’s problems, including those confronting the good people of your city. This is why we are here.”
I fully expected the mayor would want to know more. Instead, his mood changed. Skepticism then disdain took control of his countenance. He blustered about my naive approach to challenges in the world and brought our visit to an abrupt close. No further explanation was permitted.
This morning I should like to complete that conversation. I hope the good mayor is listening because what follows is vital to a troubled world.
We are sobered by the terrible calamities of recent years. They occur with increasing frequency and intensity. Natural forces are ferocious in their scope, human assaults are merciless in their carnage, and unchecked appetites are leading to licentiousness, crime, and family decay approaching epic proportions. The tsunami in southern Asia and hurricanes in the United States, with their terrible tolls, are the most recent calamities capturing our attention. Hearts and hands from around the world reach out to those so profoundly affected. For a brief period differences yield to compassion and love.
We are indebted to those who, when buffeted by calamities, remind us of man’s dependence upon God. A widow in a refugee camp, anguishing over the brutal slaying of her sons, weeps the words, “I must not lose my faith.” Survivors, overwhelmed by Katrina’s fury, send out the plea, “Pray for us.”
Causes of such calamities are the subject of seemingly endless debate. Commentators, politicians, scientists, and many others have opinions as to the causes.
The Lord Jesus Christ said concerning the Restoration of His gospel:
“Wherefore, I the Lord, knowing the calamity which should come upon the inhabitants of the earth, called upon my servant Joseph Smith, Jun., and spake unto him from heaven, and gave him commandments; …
“Search these commandments, for they are true and faithful, and the prophecies and promises which are in them shall all be fulfilled.”
Let us turn our attention to the reasons or purposes for such calamities. Fortunately, debate is not needed here because we have the fulness of Christ’s gospel on which we can rely. Search the words of the prophets in the Book of Mormon and the Bible; read the teachings of Jesus Christ in the 24th chapter of Matthew; study the Lord’s latter-day revelations in the Doctrine and Covenants. Herein we learn the purposes of God in such matters.
Calamities are a form of adversity, and adversity is a necessary part of Heavenly Father’s plan for the happiness of His children.
If our hearts are right before God, adversity will school us, help us overcome our carnal nature, and nurture the divine spark within us. Were it not for adversity, we would not know to “choose the better part.” Adversity helps us see where we need to repent, to bring into subjection baser instincts, to embrace righteousness and enjoy “peace of conscience.”
The more we cleave unto righteousness, the more we enjoy the protecting care of our Savior. He is the Creator and Lord of the universe. He will calm the winds and the waves. His teachings and Atonement will heal the repentant soul. He is the Messiah or Deliverer, and because of Him, each of us can be in charge of his or her personal world, even as tragedies beset us. Listen to these truths:
“The Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may redeem the children of men from the fall. And because that they are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon, save it be by the punishment of the law at the great and last day, according to the commandments which God hath given.
“Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for [the devil] seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.”
We will do well to remember that the devil is the destroyer.
It is true that in this life we are only as free as our mortal circumstances allow. We may not be able to stay the course of war in distant lands or with our puny arm hold back the tempests that rage or run freely when our body is imprisoned by failing health. But it is verily true that such things do not ultimately control our personal world. We do!
The Prophet Joseph Smith declared, “Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue, uprightness, faithfulness, holiness, and keeping all the commandments of God.”
And so, most honorable mayor, the gospel of Jesus Christ does provide answers to all of the world’s problems, precisely because it provides solutions to the ills of every living soul.
Every time calamity strikes, there is a corresponding sacred obligation that falls upon each of us to become better. We should ask ourselves, “What part of my life needs to change so that the weight of chastisement need not be felt?”
In the scriptures the Lord makes clear what He expects of us as such judgments descend. He says: “Gird up your loins and be prepared. Behold, the kingdom is yours, and the enemy shall not overcome.”
The Church and its members are commanded to be self-reliant and independent. Preparation begins with faith, which enables us to weather vicissitudes as they come. We see earth life as a preparatory journey. Faith in the Lord and His gospel conquers fear and begets spirituality.
Spirituality grows as we “pray, and … walk uprightly before the Lord.” It is “the consciousness of victory over self and of communion with the Infinite.”
Faith, spirituality, and obedience produce a prepared and self-reliant people. As we obey the covenant of tithing, we are shielded from want and the power of the destroyer. As we obey the fast and give generously to care for others, our prayers are heard and family fidelity increases. Similar blessings come as we obey the counsel of the prophets and live within our means, avoid unnecessary debt, and set aside sufficient of life’s necessities to sustain ourselves and our families for at least a year. This may not always be easy, but let us do our “very best,” and our stores shall not fail—there shall be “enough and to spare.”
And again the Lord says, “Be ye strong from henceforth; fear not, for the kingdom is yours.”
Strength and resiliency come by righteous living. One is not righteous who is a saint on Sunday and a slacker the remainder of the week. Unchecked appetites are destructive and cause men to “trifle … with sacred things.” President Brigham Young taught, “The sin that will cleave to all the posterity of Adam and Eve is, that they have not done as well as they knew how.”
The gospel of Jesus Christ is the pathway to righteousness. Tragedies never triumph where personal righteousness prevails. Let us, therefore, heed the counsel of the Apostle Paul:
“The night is far spent, the day is at hand: let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and let us put on the armour of light.
“Let us walk honestly, as in the day; not in rioting and drunkenness, not in chambering and wantonness, not in strife and envying.
“But put ye on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make not provision for the flesh, to fulfil the lusts thereof.”
Our duty as Latter-day Saints is to prepare ourselves, this earth, and its inhabitants for the Second Coming of the Lord Jesus Christ. Being prepared and being strong as the gospel teaches ensure happiness here and hereafter and make this “grand millennial mission” possible.
Our beloved President Hinckley has admonished: “Now, my brethren and sisters, the time has come for us to stand a little taller, to lift our eyes and stretch our minds to a greater comprehension and understanding of the grand millennial mission of this, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This is a season to be strong. It is a time to move forward without hesitation, knowing well the meaning, the breadth, and the importance of our mission. It is a time to do what is right regardless of the consequences that might follow. It is a time to be found keeping the commandments. It is a season to reach out with kindness and love to those in distress and to those who are wandering in darkness and pain. It is a time to be considerate and good, decent and courteous toward one another in all of our relationships—in other words, to become more Christlike.”
This admonition by the Lord’s prophet points our way through these turbulent times. To all who suffer, our hearts reach out to you. May Heavenly Father, in His infinite mercy, make light your burdens and fill your lives with that peace which “passeth all understanding.” You are not alone. Our love and faith and prayers are joined with yours. Press forward in righteousness, and all will be well.
In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I wanted to serve a mission. A year after my baptism, I went to the Dominican Republic to be endowed in the Santo Domingo Dominican Republic Temple because there is not a temple in Jamaica. If a temple was close by me in Jamaica, I would go every day if I could.
I attended the missionary training center in the Dominican Republic and learned what to do to be a better missionary. I came back to Jamaica and served for two years. If I could serve again, I would because it was wonderful. There are ups and downs on a mission and there is a lot to learn, but I enjoyed it.
When I went on a mission, I could hardly read the Book of Mormon or the Bible. During companionship study I would ask my companion to help me read a scripture I didn’t understand. He would help me learn what it meant. Over time, I learned more and more. By the end of my mission, I had read through the Book of Mormon, the New Testament, some of the Old Testament and Preach My Gospel. Now I can read anything anyone gives me. I can help myself and continue to learn more about the gospel. I know that’s a blessing for me for serving a mission.

Many years ago I worked for a railroad in the central offices in Denver. I was in charge of what is called head-end traffic. That was in the days when nearly everyone rode passenger trains. One morning I received a call from my counterpart in Newark, New Jersey. He said, “Train number such-and-such has arrived, but it has no baggage car. Somewhere, 300 passengers have lost their baggage, and they are mad.”

I went immediately to work to find out where it may have gone. I found it had been properly loaded and properly trained in Oakland, California. It had been moved to our railroad in Salt Lake City, been carried to Denver, down to Pueblo, put on another line, and moved to St. Louis. There it was to be handled by another railroad which would take it to Newark, New Jersey. But some thoughtless switchman in the St. Louis yards moved a small piece of steel just three inches, a switch point, then pulled the lever to uncouple the car. We discovered that a baggage car that belonged in Newark, New Jersey, was in fact in New Orleans, Louisiana—1,500 miles from its destination. Just the three-inch movement of the switch in the St. Louis yard by a careless employee had started it on the wrong track, and the distance from its true destination increased dramatically. That is the way it is with our lives. Instead of following a steady course, we are pulled by some mistaken idea in another direction. The movement away from our original destination may be ever so small, but, if continued, that very small movement becomes a great gap and we find ourselves far from where we intended to go.

My mother was a tremendous support to us. She always cleaned our white shirts on Saturdays so they would be ready to wear on Sundays. We would polish our shoes and the shoes of our youngest brothers and sisters. We lived in a poor neighborhood in Guatemala, and our neighbors would laugh at us on Sundays as we wore our white shirts and ties to church.
My mother always gave us courage to do the right. Because of her influence, we were very active in the Church. I remember that at one time, my father served as the Sunday School president, my older sister served as the Primary president, my mother served as the Relief Society president, and four of my brothers passed, prepared, and blessed the sacrament.

Q. Have you done a lot of traveling?
A. Well, I took a working vacation to the United States last summer. Raymond Lowry, president of the Lisburn Branch, filled a mission in Germany. Then he wanted to go to America and see a lot of his friends who had been on missions there too. So off we set. We spent some time in and around New York and then took a Greyhound bus across the country. In Utah we stayed in Salt Lake City and Provo for about three weeks and visited in Cedar City for a time. Then we went to San Francisco, back across to New Orleans, and then home.
Q. What did you think of America?
A. I’m not sure we got a very representative view of America. You see, we were with Mormon contacts all the time. But I liked it—I really liked it, though not the big eastern cities so much, because I just wasn’t used to so many different peoples all mixed up. It was so different. People weren’t friendly. In New York we stopped a lady and asked her to show us the way, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. I guess she thought we were going to attack her. I said to myself, “What’s going on here?” But we enjoyed San Francisco and Salt Lake City—I thought they were tremendous.
Q. Was the trip a help to you in your life?
A. It was fantastic. I’ll never forget the experience, and it built my testimony a lot. It could have broken me. I’d only been in the Church a few months, and when you meet the missionaries here, they are fantastic. You wonder what the people will be like at their own back door. But the families we stayed with were fantastic to us. You could see that they live the gospel, and you could see the happiness it has given them. That helped me a lot.

Pablo knows the importance of missionary work. He tries to be a missionary at school by being a good example to his friends. He has told them what it’s like to be a Church member. He has shared the Articles of Faith with one particular friend, given him several pamphlets, and invited him to church. Pablo has a testimony of the Word of Wisdom and has told his schoolteachers that coffee and smoking are not good for them.
Also a good example to his friends, Hugo tries to “live the way Jesus would want me to by being kind to others.” In school, Hugo enjoys reading and mathematics, especially multiplication. Language classes in Dutch, French, and English are an important part of the school’s curriculum. Pablo is also studying Latin. Spanish is important in their lives, too, because their father is from a small village in northern Spain. Their mother is of Belgian and Italian descent.
The boys help with the household chores. They try their best to keep their rooms clean. Setting the table, cleaning the bathtub, and taking the silverware out of the dishwasher keep Hugo busy. Pablo cleans the bathroom sink, vacuums, and feeds the family cat, Mustache.
The boys have fun playing rugby, riding bikes, roller-skating, watching TV, and playing board games together. They also have their own interests. Hugo is involved in fencing. Pablo has already earned his orange belt in judo and is now learning techniques for the green belt.
Music is an important part of Pablo’s life. His talent was quickly recognized by his family when he began playing the Church hymns on the violin by ear! He enjoys playing “Come, Come, Ye Saints” and “I Am a Child of God.” He has performed violin solos in sacrament meeting.
The Varela family attends the Louise Ward, Brussels Belgium Stake, where Sister Varela teaches the Gospel Doctrine class, Brother Varela teaches a weekly religion class for the youth, Pedro teaches a youth Sunday School class, and Diego works in the meetinghouse library. Pablo greets the children at the door in Primary and keeps his Valiant classroom in order by putting materials away. Hugo is preparing for his baptism by learning the Articles of Faith, studying about Jesus Christ, and being reverent in his CTR class. “I Am a Child of God” is his favorite song.
Pablo enjoys family home evening because “we are all together.” He likes it when everyone sits around the table with their scriptures and has a turn reading. Hugo also likes to read the scriptures with the family, especially when his parents ask questions afterward. If someone answers a question correctly, he or she is rewarded with sweets.
At family night the Varelas often read about members of the Church in the Church magazines, then locate where those members live on a world map. Hugo likes to help find the locations, mark them, and then link them with pieces of yarn. Those locations may be far from the Varelas’ Belgian town, but the Varelas know the Church and the gospel connect them to those members in faraway places.
So what do these two young brothers do to build the Church and the gospel in their part of the world? Hugo brings joy to others because he is happy, full of smiles, and eager to help. Pablo enriches others’ lives with his spirituality, sensitivity to the scriptures, musical talents, and awareness of people’s feelings.

Since both of my parents have passed away, it became necessary this year to clean out their home to prepare it for sale. During these past few months, as my siblings and I cleaned and sorted through my parents’ home, we found family histories and many important papers and documents. It has been fascinating to read through personal histories and patriarchal blessings of my parents and grandparents. I have been reminded of the covenants they made and kept.
My grandmother Ellen Hanks Rymer was a young mother in 1912 when she received her patriarchal blessing. When I read her blessing, these lines jumped off the page and stayed in my mind: “Thou wast chosen from before the foundation of the earth, and a chosen spirit to come forth in this day. … Thy testimony shall be magnified and thou shalt be able to testify. … The destroyer has sought to destroy thee, but if thou wilt cleave unto thy God, he [the destroyer] shall not have power to harm thee. Thou through thy faithfulness shalt have great power and the destroyer shall flee from before thee because of thy righteousness. … When the hour of fear and trials come upon thee if thou wilt retire to thy secret closet in prayer thy heart shall be comforted and the obstacles removed.”
My grandmother was promised that if she would keep her covenants and stay close to God, Satan could have no power over her. She would find comfort and help in her trials. These promises were fulfilled in her life.
Today I want to talk about (1) the importance of cleaving unto covenants and (2) the joy and protection that come from keeping our covenants.
Some of the examples I will use come from Daughters in My Kingdom: The History and Work of Relief Society. The book is filled with examples of women who have found great joy in keeping covenants.
The Bible Dictionary tells us that a covenant is a contract made between God and man. “God in his good pleasure fixes the terms, which man accepts. … The gospel is so arranged that principles and ordinances are received by covenant placing the recipient under strong obligation and responsibility to honor the commitment.” In the phrase “cleave unto covenants,” the word cleave means “to adhere firmly and closely” to something.
In the scriptures we learn of men and women who have made covenants with God. God has given instructions on what to do to honor those covenants, and then as those covenants have been kept, the promised blessings have followed.
For example, through the ordinance of baptism, we make a covenant with our Heavenly Father. We prepare ourselves for baptism by having faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, repenting of our sins, and being willing to take upon us the name of Christ. We make a commitment to keep the commandments of God and remember the Savior always. We covenant to “bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light.” We indicate that we are willing to mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who need comfort.
In holy temples other sacred ordinances are received and other covenants are made. In the early days of the Restoration, the Prophet Joseph Smith was anxious for the Saints to have the promised blessings of the temple. The Lord said, “Let this house be built unto my name, that I may reveal mine ordinances therein unto my people.”
“One of the Lord’s purposes in organizing the Relief Society was to prepare His daughters for the greater blessings of the priesthood found in the ordinances and covenants of the temple. The … sisters in Nauvoo anticipated the completion of the temple with great excitement, for they knew, as the Prophet Joseph Smith promised Mercy Fielding Thompson, that the endowment would bring them ‘out of darkness into marvelous light.’”
“More than 5,000 Saints thronged the Nauvoo Temple after its dedication so they could receive the endowment and the sealing ordinance before embarking on their journey” to the Salt Lake Valley. President Brigham Young and many Church leaders and temple workers spent their time, day and night, serving in the temple so this important work could be performed for the Saints.
Our covenants sustain us whether in good times or in difficult times. President Boyd K. Packer reminds us that “we are a covenant people. We covenant to give of our resources in time and money and talent—all we are and all we possess—to the interest of the kingdom of God upon the earth. In simple terms, we covenant to do good. We are a covenant people, and the temple is the center of our covenants. It is the source of the covenant.”
The scriptures remind us, “And this shall be our covenant—that we will walk in all the ordinances of the Lord.”
Great are the blessings we receive as we cleave unto our covenants.
In the Book of Mormon we read King Benjamin’s sermon. He taught the people about Jesus Christ, that He would come to the earth and suffer all manner of afflictions. He taught the people that Christ would atone for the sins of all mankind and that His name was the only name by which man could obtain salvation.
After listening to these beautiful teachings, the people were humbled and desired with their whole hearts to be free of sin and to be purified. They repented and professed their faith in Jesus Christ. They made covenants with God that they would keep His commandments.
“The Spirit of the Lord came upon them, and they were filled with joy, having received a remission of their sins, and having peace of conscience, because of the exceeding faith which they had in Jesus Christ.”
Another example of the joy which comes through faithfulness in keeping the commandments of God and sharing His gospel with others is demonstrated by Ammon. Ammon and his brethren were instrumental in helping thousands of people come unto Christ. These are some of the words Ammon used to describe his feelings as so many people were baptized and made covenants with God:
“How great reason have we to rejoice.”
“My joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God.”
“I cannot say the smallest part which I feel.”
“There never were men that had so great reason to rejoice as we.”
Making and keeping sacred covenants enables us to have the Holy Spirit with us. This is the Spirit that “shall fill your soul with joy.”
World War II caused much suffering for many people throughout the world. The Saints in Germany endured many trials. A faithful Relief Society president in Stuttgart, Germany, was Sister Maria Speidel. In speaking of their trials, she said: “Our trust in the Lord and our testimony of his Church have been our pillar of strength. … With joy we sing the songs of Zion and put our trust in the Lord. He maketh all things well.”
Again, as members kept their covenants, they felt joy even in the face of tremendous challenges.
Sarah Rich was a righteous woman living in Nauvoo who was called to serve in the temple prior to the Saints being expelled from the city. These are her words about the blessings of temple covenants: “Many were the blessings we had received in the house of the Lord, which has caused us joy and comfort in the midst of all our sorrows and enabled us to have faith in God, knowing He would guide us and sustain us in the unknown journey that lay before us.”
Earlier the Saints had finished the Kirtland Temple, and many participated in the dedication. After the dedication the temple was received by the Lord. The Lord told them to “greatly rejoice in consequence of the blessings which shall be poured out … upon the heads of [His] people.”
As more and more holy temples have been built across the earth, I have seen the blessings that come into the lives of the members. In 2008 I witnessed the joy on the faces of a couple from Ukraine as they told me about going to Freiberg, Germany, to receive their temple ordinances. The trip to the temple was a 27-hour bus ride each way for these dedicated members, and they were not able to go often. They were thrilled that the Kyiv Ukraine Temple would soon be completed and they would be able to attend much more often. That temple is now open, and thousands enjoy the blessings there.
In reading from my grandmother’s personal history, I learned of her great joy in her covenants. She loved going to the temple and performing the ordinances for thousands of those who had died. It was her life’s mission. She served as a temple worker for over 20 years in the Manti Utah Temple. She wrote that she had experienced many miraculous healings in order for her to raise her children and to serve others by doing their work in the temple. As her grandchildren, if we knew anything about Grandma Rymer, it was that she was a righteous woman who kept her covenants and wanted us to do the same. When people sift through our possessions after we have died, will they find evidence that we have kept our covenants?
Our beloved prophet, President Thomas S. Monson, told us in our last general conference: “As you and I go to the holy houses of God, as we remember the covenants we make within, we will be more able to bear every trial and to overcome each temptation. In this sacred sanctuary we will find peace; we will be renewed and fortified.”
Once again: “Lift up thy heart and rejoice, and cleave unto the covenants which thou hast made.” Keeping covenants is true joy and happiness. This is comfort and peace. This is protection from the evils of the world. Keeping our covenants will help us in times of trial.
I testify that as we have faith in Christ and cleave unto our covenants, we will receive the joy spoken of in the holy scriptures and promised by our latter-day prophets.
Dear sisters, I love you and hope you will experience this great joy in your own lives. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Let me begin by telling you about my grandmother and how she helped shape my attitude toward this subject. Harriett, everyone called her Hattie, Rigby was barely five feet tall. She married my Grandfather when she was only 18. The day after they were married, my Grandfather left for the Samoan Islands for a three-year mission. Hattie planned on finishing school at Ricks Academy while my Grandfather was on his mission. Grandpa was assigned to the Apollo Island, owned at that time by Germany. He told his German professor that he wished his wife were there because she had studied two years of German. Hattie was called to be a missionary with her husband, which she gladly accepted in 1913. Her father and sister took her to Salt Lake to be set apart as a missionary. She told her father, "They will surely send another lady so I won't have to go alone," but when they assembled in the room where they were to be set apart and receive their instructions, Hattie was the only woman. She wrote, "I felt like going back home with Father, but he assured me I would be all right, which I was, and happy to be the only girl as I got all the attention."

She traveled to Samoa by ship but the letter notifying my Grandfather that she was coming was on the same ship as she was traveling on. This little 18-year-old got off the ship and no one was there to meet her. After five days, she finally met my Grandpa as he was traveling in a buggy toward town. This was only the beginning of a very difficult two and one-half years but even with the struggles, my grandparents loved their mission and the Samoan people.

A defining experience for Hattie was when her first son, who was born in Samoa, contracted elephantiasis, which is usually fatal to babies. He was covered with oozing sores all over his body and had to be bathed with a disinfectant. Around this same time, my Grandfather's appendix burst sending toxins throughout his body. Hattie was advised to go home to America to receive medical care or her baby would die.

My grandparents were in charge of a church cemetery where there were six elders, a mother and a baby and four small children buried. Hatti went to this cemetery and prayed that if the Lord would spare the lives of her husband and child and she would not have to leave their bodies in this distant land, she would dedicate her life faithfully serving Him. The Lord was good to her and both her husband and son were spared. I can tell you, having lived only one mile from my grandparents, that my Grandmother absolutely spent the rest of her life supporting her husband's righteous endeavors and serving the Lord. Her "selfish support" earned her the love and devotion of seven very righteous sons and daughters and legions of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She also earned the respect and love of many community members. Interestingly, her church callings and civic responsibilities throughout her life were more demanding than her husband's but my grandfather supported her 100 percent. He would hitch up the wagon and take her to her many assignments with no resentment.

When I was 17, I went to live with my aunt and uncle, who were sponsoring my education. When I arrived at their home in Sekondi, Ghana, I immediately noticed unusual things about their family. They had morning and evening prayers together and held family meetings on Monday evenings that seemed to make each family member feel loved and appreciated. Even though I was an active member of another faith, I became interested in finding out about their beliefs.
When I asked Uncle Sarfo about the Church, he explained many of the Church’s teachings. Some I believed, and others I did not understand.
My uncle then asked the missionaries to teach me the discussions, and I received all six of the lessons. But when the missionaries invited me to be baptized, I refused because I did not have a testimony of the Book of Mormon. I found it difficult to read and understand.
To please Aunt Evelyn and Uncle Sarfo, I had already been attending sacrament meeting. Now they encouraged me to enroll in the early-morning seminary course that was to begin in two weeks.
Getting out of bed at 4:30 A.M. was no small matter for me, but the seminary teacher, Solomon Agbo, visited me, encouraged me to attend, and seemed already to care about me. I decided to go to seminary, and once I made that decision, I resolved not to be absent even for a single day. The course of study was the Book of Mormon, and I wanted to see if I might gain a testimony of the book.
As I began studying the Book of Mormon for seminary, I experienced the feelings Elder Parley P. Pratt (1807–57) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles described when he first found the Book of Mormon. “I opened it with eagerness, and read its title page,” he wrote. “I then read the testimony of several witnesses in relation to the manner of its being found and translated. After this I commenced its contents by course. I read all day; eating was a burden, I had no desire for food; sleep was a burden when the night came, for I preferred reading to sleep” (Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt [1985], 18).
As I read, the Spirit of the Lord bore witness that the Book of Mormon is truly another testament of Jesus Christ. Through seminary the Book of Mormon became much easier to read. Whenever it was hard to follow, my teacher helped me understand. I received a testimony that the Book of Mormon is “the most correct of any book on earth, … and a man [will] get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book” (Joseph Smith, Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith [1976], 194).
I was baptized on 5 March 1995. By the time I was 21 I was a seminary teacher myself, helping others know of the divinity and truthfulness of the book that changed my life.

Let me share with you the effects of spiritually preparing a family through many generations.

Henry Arline lived from 1841 to 1919. In 1898, at 57 years old, he heard the missionaries preach the gospel in a schoolhouse in the state of Florida in the United States. He told his wife, “For the first time, I have heard the truth.” He and his family were baptized. A few years later they traveled by train to Utah, a trip of more than 2,000 miles, so they could receive the sealing ordinances of the temple. He returned to Florida and remained true and faithful the remainder of his life.

His daughter was Sophronia Arline Williams, and her son was James Bernard Williams. Bernard Williams met a beautiful young lady, Martha Aman. She honestly investigated the Church, developed a firm testimony, and was baptized.

Eight years after their marriage, they were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple with their three children. Their little daughter was Kathy Williams, whom I met years later at BYU and begged her to be my wife. We now have four children and 13 grandchildren.

I will forever be thankful for Kathy’s righteous mother and her righteous great-grandfather who joined the Church and remained true and faithful all the rest of their lives. These two people never knew each other in mortality. They lived at different times. Yet they are captains in the Lord’s cause, helping to bring our family with them because of their spiritual choices.

Can you remember a moment when someone gave you a gift that changed your life? This October marks 40 years since I received one of the greatest gifts in my life. While I was in high school, I noticed that one of our classmates had a light that was different from most of the other young people. I enjoyed being around him. One day he told me he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then he offered me a gift: a copy of the Book of Mormon. He invited me to read a few pages and meet with two friends who could answer my questions. Those friends were the missionaries.

When I met with the missionaries, they taught me the doctrine of Christ and invited me to follow the prophet Moroni’s invitation: “When ye shall receive these things, I would exhort you that ye would ask God, the Eternal Father, in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost” (Moroni 10:4).

I read several pages of the Book of Mormon and prayed. Although I did not yet have a deep understanding of all the things that the missionaries were teaching me, I felt in my heart that what I was reading was good and came from God. I received the confirmation of Moroni’s promise: “And by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things” (Moroni 10:5).

After I was baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, some friends tried to convince me that I had made the wrong decision. But each time I faced such doubts or opposition, I received renewed confirmation through studying the scriptures and praying to stay true to the covenants I had entered into with God. Since then, the Book of Mormon has been my companion and has become an immeasurable treasure in my mortal journey.

“Mom, can I ride my bike over to Jason’s house?” Zach called as he ran into his bedroom.
“Sure,” Mom said. “Just be careful.”
“OK!” Zach skidded to a stop next to his bed and grabbed his tennis shoes. When he glanced up, he saw the picture of Jesus he kept next to his baseball trophy. His grandparents had given him the picture at his baptism last month. Zach could hardly believe he was finally baptized. He thought back to that important day.
He remembered sitting in the chapel next to his dad. Both of them were dressed in white. His Primary teacher, Sister Jones, gave a talk about the Holy Ghost. She told Zach if he listened to the still, small voice he would be blessed.
Sister Jones held up a whistle. “Sometimes the Holy Ghost will warn you of danger, almost like a whistle in your mind.” Then she held up a helmet. “Following the Holy Ghost is like wearing a helmet in a dangerous world. His still, small voice will prompt you so you will be protected spiritually and physically.”
Zach had thought about the talk a lot since then. He was grateful to have the gift of the Holy Ghost. As he finished tying his shoes, he stood up and noticed his bike helmet in his closet.
“Wear your helmet,” a small voice inside him seemed to say.
Zach stood still. Is that the Holy Ghost? he wondered. OK, he thought. I’ll wear my helmet. He put it on and ran out of the room. “Bye, Mom!” he called as he ran outside.
The afternoon hurried by as Zach and Jason played pirates in Jason’s tree house. Finally Zach noticed it was getting late.
“I’d better go,” he told Jason. He picked up his bike and snapped his helmet into place again. “See you later.”
Zach pedaled carefully along the side of the street. When he came to the corner, he looked both ways, then started across the road. Just as he reached the other side, a huge blue truck raced around the corner. Suddenly it hit the back tire of Zach’s bike, knocking him to the ground.
Zach caught his breath, then carefully sat up. The road was empty, except for his twisted bike lying nearby.
Zach stood up. He was shaking, but he didn’t seem to be hurt. Then he remembered—his helmet! He reached up and felt it still fastened firmly on his head. It had protected him!
Zach picked up his bike and walked the rest of the way home. When he reached the front door, he ran inside.
“Mom, Mom!” he said, hugging her tightly, his voice shaking a little. “A truck hit my bike!”
“What?! Are you all right?” she asked.
Zach nodded. “I was wearing my helmet. I felt a still, small voice tell me to put it on before I left.”
Mom sighed with relief.
“Sister Jones was right,” Zach continued. “The Holy Ghost is real! I followed His prompting and He protected me—just like my helmet.”

I’ve always been a curious person.
Growing up, I had big questions about how the earth was created, how human life was formed, and why we’re on this planet. When I learned about and accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ at age 14, I found so many answers and greater meaning for my life. I did my best to keep God’s commandments and felt real joy living the gospel.
I continued progressing in many exciting ways—I served a mission, attended university, and more. But as I approached age 30, I became discouraged that I hadn’t had the opportunity to get married. Although I saw many people around me choose to live contrary to the law of chastity, I was firm in my commitment to keep my covenants and prepare for a temple marriage.
I believed that happiness comes from obedience (see Mosiah 2:41). But as I looked around at my friends who chose not to keep the law of chastity, they seemed happier than me. They were having new experiences with dating and relationships, and I felt a sense of unfairness. As a curious and well-educated person, I was frustrated that my friends now seemed wiser and more mature than me.
The commandments began to feel less like a blessing and more like a roadblock keeping me from living my best life.
I was tempted to walk away from the idea of a temple marriage and a gospel-centered life after a while. The law of chastity just felt too hard to keep when I was surrounded by a world that didn’t view physical intimacy the same way I did.
When I was struggling the most, my institute teacher shared a story about having the missionaries over for dinner. He shared how his whole family prepared for and participated in the spiritual thought the missionaries shared.
In that moment, I realized that more than anything, I wanted to raise a family that could enjoy the blessings of the gospel all together.
It all clicked. The law of chastity wasn’t a roadblock keeping me from experiencing the gift of sexuality—it was a blessing keeping me pointed toward the temple and my eternal family.
Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “Is it wrong to have rules? Of course not. We all need them every day. But it is wrong to focus only on rules instead of focusing on the Savior. You need to know the whys and the hows and then consider the consequences of your choices.”
When I remembered the Savior and His sacrifice for me, I decided that the blessings of keeping my covenants, including the law of chastity and being married in the temple, would be worth the wait. True happiness isn’t about doing whatever you want. It’s about being worthy to have the companionship of the Holy Ghost.
There can be other instances when we feel tempted to break our covenants. Living the gospel isn’t always easy! But the covenants we make and the commandments we keep were put in place by a loving Heavenly Father who has our best interests at heart. We can trust that He knows so much more than we do and that following Him over the world will always lead us to joy.
I feel grateful that I recently fell in love and was married in the temple. I’m glad I was dedicated to the commandments so I can now enjoy the blessings of eternal marriage.

When President Kimball died, we were living in Arizona. President Kimball had been in our home. We had knelt with him in family prayer, and he had eaten bread and milk with us. We knew he was a prophet of God.
I wanted a witness of the Spirit that President Benson was God’s chosen prophet. I wanted to know more than that he was just a good person and next in line after President Kimball. The Lord was kind to me, and, after fasting and prayer, I received, by the Spirit, the witness that President Benson was indeed God’s chosen prophet for this time, with a special calling and a special message for our day.

As I lay in my bed that night, I watched each of my sisters and brothers in turn be taken down the stairs. I was the oldest child at home that year since my older sister had left on her mission. Below me in the living room, I heard the song over and over as each child was sung to. Then it was my turn. I followed Papa down the stairs into the living room. He sat in the big chair and opened his arms.

“Do you still want me to sit on your lap?” I asked.

“Of course,” he smiled. Gratefully, I climbed onto his lap and pulled my knees up to my chin, snuggling up next to him.

“This is my last night to be rocked,” I said.

“I know,” came his quiet reply.

As the first few strains of the familiar tune began in the tape recorder next to us, I thought back to all the years I had heard this song on Christmas Eve. Suddenly something in me wanted to stay. I was so warm and comfortable, and I had no idea what the future months and years would hold. I started to cry.

Don’t let this song end, I thought.

Papa began to sing.

Heaven bless you little one while you’re fast asleep.
You’ll awake to dancing toys,
Candy canes, Christmas joys.
And I pray your whole life through,
Angels will watch over you,
Loving you the way I do,
My little one, sleep well.

Each year before this night, the song had reminded me of Christmas and what the next morning would bring. But on this last time, I knew Papa was singing about life and the years ahead—not toys that would break or wear out, but eternal joys I would find on my journey through life, joys I was not even aware of now. On this night I heard the emotion of his voice as he sang for angels to watch over me, not just for tonight but for tomorrow night and all the nights that would follow when he wouldn’t be there.

I let my tears flow, as the last strains of music faded away. Papa and I watched the lights of the tree in the darkness, and we rocked and rocked, long after the song had ended.

As we rocked, I thought what our last night in heaven must have been like, the night before each of us came to earth to be born. Did Heavenly Father hold us close and tell us of the joys and dancing toys which we would find on the morrow? Did we cry and wish we could stay with him forever, even though we knew earth life would bring us more joys than we could imagine? He must have held us long after his song to us had ended, asking that angels would watch over us in our earthly journey, that our years away from him would be filled with happiness and would eventually lead us back to his presence.

I found comfort as I thought of my Heavenly Father that night, while my earthly father rocked me. Even though Papa couldn’t be there every day in the future to help me with each struggle I would face, my Father in Heaven would be there. No matter what the years ahead would bring, I would not only have the support of an earthly father but of my Heavenly Father. And he would guide my paths and bring me home for good. That night I felt he too was singing, “Loving you the way I do, my little one, sleep well.”

After World War II on a cold night in a train station in southern Japan, I heard a tap on the train window. There stood a boy wearing the same ragged shirt, a rag tied about a swollen jaw, his head covered with scabies. He held a rusty tin can and a spoon, the symbol of an orphan beggar. As I struggled to open the door to give him money, the train pulled out. I will never forget that hungry little boy standing in the cold, holding up his empty tin can.

I can still remember one particular Young Women lesson, even though my teacher, Sister Cato, taught it years ago. It was about reaching out to others who may not seem to fit in with “our group.”
I was in high school then, captain of the marching band color guard, publicity chair for a club, active on the academic team and in drama, Laurel class president, and a member of the stake youth committee. I was the only member of the Church at my school, but people seemed to respect me for my beliefs.
The day after Sister Cato’s wonderful lesson, I noticed a guy at lunch I’d never really noticed before. He was sitting by himself, except for two other guys who were making fun of him. I remembered having seen him at band practice after school, but I didn’t even know his name. I asked my friends from the band if they knew anything about him.
“That’s Chris. He can’t march and won’t play his trombone loud enough for you to hear him three feet from you!” the trombone section leader replied.
“I think he just moved here from another school,” said another. “People say he’s really weird.”
“I heard he can’t drive to save his life. Once he hit someone’s trash can when he was driving home after school!” another of my friends said.
The bell rang, and we all scattered for class. I continued to think about Chris and how lonely he had seemed at lunch.
The next day, I decided to sit with Chris instead of with my usual group. Ignoring my friends’ stares, I introduced myself and sat down. I really enjoyed my lunch with Chris. He was funny and bright, though a little quiet that first day. The next day at lunch, I asked Chris to sit with my friends and me. My friends protested, but I insisted, and Chris had lunch with us the rest of the year.
I’m so thankful for that lesson in Young Women. Chris and I became the best of friends. When band practice ended each afternoon, we would often end up at one or the other’s house. I introduced him to my younger brothers, with whom he became fast friends, and he introduced me to his girlfriend. We went to the movies together. He helped me get my first job, and we even double-dated to the prom.
The next year, I completed the Personal Progress program in Young Women. My parents decided to have a little party to celebrate my receiving the Young Womanhood Recognition. I handed out invitations to all my friends and reminded them many times, hoping they would come. Chris came—my only friend who wasn’t a member of the Church to show up.
Graduation day came and went, but Chris and I still keep in touch. Who would have known that by following a Young Women lesson, I would end up with a great friendship?