Gospel Story Finder

A young woman walked slowly across the campus, deep in thought. She was at the beginning of her last semester of college. She had started to think seriously about serving a mission, but she had also been looking for a job. Just that morning she had received a very nice job offer. As she walked, she pondered what to do.
The young woman fasted and prayed to know if she should serve a mission or should take the job offer. Somewhat to her surprise, the mission did not feel right to her. Without a lot of specific guidance, she decided to take the job. Three months later she met the man who would become her husband.

I graduated from Liahona High at age 18 ½. About 98% of my classmates were going on missions; both boys and girls. Realizing that I was not 19, I decided that I will focus on coming to school in Hawaii. I returned to Fiji and my classmates immediately started their missions. I was really looking forward to coming to Hawaii. I had never dreamt of the opportunity, so the excitement was high.

Each time I ran into my classmates, as missionaries, they would ask me:"Hiagi, when are you going to join us?" I would then reply: " I am not going on a mission. I am going to Church College of Hawaii."

The need for missionaries was great for the government of Fiji allowed just 6 outside elders. I knew that.

I met the District President, Bro. Blaine Anderson, a retired army colonel from Salt Lake City, Utah. He said, "Hiagi, are you ready for your mission." I replied: 'No, I am not," somewhat in an impatient tone of voice. He then said: "What did the Lord say in Matthew Chapter 6:33?" I then replied:

'But seek ye first the kingdom of God and all its righteousness and all things shall be added upon."

Then he said: "What do you think." I replied: "I am not going on my mission. I am going to school in Hawaii."

It was a week later in a district general priesthood meeting. I was sitting at the back of the chapel. Pres. Anderson was conducting the meeting. I knew he was going to call me to bear my testimony. Just then, he announced: "And now, we will like to invite Bro. Wesley to bear his testimony." I walked to the front, bore my testimony, and with tears streaming down my face, said: "I am ready for my mission. I will go where you want me to go dear Lord.'"

By the end of that week, I had collected the 2-3 white shirts and pants I had and very few other things including any neck ties in the house and went into my mission. It was shortly afterwards when I officially received my signed missionary call from President David O. McKay.

It reminds me of two trees that were close to my home when I was growing up. The one was a Russian olive and grew right in our yard. It was watered every time the lawn was watered, and in that kind of protected environment it grew to be a beautiful tree. Yet one night a tremendous wind came up. Trees all over town were blown down, and with them went our Russian olive. We had watered it so well that the roots did not have to reach down into the soil; and because they were so close to the surface, the tree toppled over.
The second tree withstood the gale. It was a tremendous cottonwood, which still stands in the lane just half a block from where I was born. This tree was in the fullness of its growth when I was a child. It has always stood by itself, completely exposed to the elements, with nothing but a ditch running by, which most of the time is dry. It is gnarled and tough, and its roots have had to sink deep in order to drink of the water of life; but because its roots were forced downward, it lives. I was out home the other day and noticed that most of the trees around this cottonwood are gone. But in all of its power and majesty, it still hangs on.

Illustrations by Scott Greer
Dani looked up but still couldn’t see the top of the beautiful cathedral. People who belonged to a different church came here. Dani didn’t understand why her family was visiting this church on a Friday, but Dad said they were going to something called Evensong.
“What’s that?” Dani asked.
“It’s a meeting where people sing, read scriptures, and pray together,” Dad said. “Like a big family at the end of the day.”
Dani liked how that sounded. She and her family were visiting England. Last Sunday they went to a ward in a city called York. In Primary all the kids knew the same scriptures and songs Dani did. She knew the ward she visited was part of Jesus’s true Church, just like her ward at home.
But this cathedral was very different from what she was used to. She noticed a small table filled with candles. Dani watched a boy light a candle.
“Why are you lighting candles?” Dani asked him.
The boy smiled. “I light a candle when I pray for special things. As long as the flame burns, I hope the prayer will continue to be heard by God.”
They looked like regular candles to Dani. She was a little confused, but she wanted to be polite. She smiled at the boy.
Dani and her family sat down, and soon Evensong started. She saw the same boy a few rows away. Then she realized she didn’t know any of the songs everyone was singing. When they prayed, they read out of a little book. Everything seemed different than what she was used to.
But the music was beautiful, even if it wasn’t familiar. Then a man got up to read the scriptures. He was wearing robes, instead of a suit and tie like Dani’s bishop. But as he started reading, Dani realized she knew this story! He was reading about Jesus healing the 10 lepers.
“Dad,” Dani whispered, “I love this story.”
Dad smiled. “Me too.”
Then the man in robes said a prayer. He asked God to bless those who were sick and in need. Just like Dani did! He also asked a special blessing on leaders of his church. Dani remembered how her family always asked Heavenly Father to bless President Thomas S. Monson and his counselors.
A warm feeling came into Dani’s heart. She knew Heavenly Father was telling her He loved all His children and heard all their prayers, even if they went to a different church and didn’t have the fulness of the gospel.
As they got up to leave, Dad checked his phone. He looked sad as he read his messages. “Sister Monson passed away,” he said.
“Oh no!” Dani said a quick prayer in her heart that President Monson would be OK.
“Are you all right?” someone asked. It was the boy from before. He had heard Dani, and he seemed worried.
“Sister Monson passed away,” Dani said. “She was the wife of our prophet, President Monson.”
“I’m sorry,” he said kindly. “I’ll light a candle for him.”
Dani smiled and thanked him. She thought it was nice of the boy to say a special prayer for President Monson. She knew Heavenly Father would hear the prayer she said in her heart and the prayer the boy said too.

I would like to share an example from my life where righteous persistence yielded eternal blessings and happiness.

I met my best friend in high school. He was agnostic and I was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Despite these differences, we respected each other’s beliefs and personal journeys. On my mission during COVID, I began formally teaching him the gospel. The adversary knew the righteous path my friend was on and put great effort into misdirecting him. This led to delays, confusion, and hesitation towards learning. I pleaded with the Lord to help my best friend build a relationship with God like he wanted.

After returning home, I encouraged him to talk to the missionaries, and continue reading the Book of Mormon and attending church. 18 months after I came home, my best friend was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. I’m grateful that I didn’t give up on my friend, just as Christ never gave up on me.

But the blessings didn’t stop with his baptism. I enjoyed further blessings one week ago today when I participated in proxy temple baptisms with my best friend. He was able to perform the baptisms. The reward of seeing him enjoy the eternal blessings of the temple and the priesthood overcame any difficulty we faced in the previous years.

Two experiences illustrate the importance of caution in judging. A Relief Society worker visiting a sister in her ward asked whether the woman’s married children ever visited her. Because of a short-term memory loss, this elderly sister innocently answered no. So informed, her visitor and others spoke criticisms of her children for neglecting their mother. In fact, one of her children visited her at least daily, and all of them helped her in many ways. They were innocent of neglect and should not have been judged on the basis of an inadequate knowledge of the facts.

At the age of nine I was exposed to pornography online. I hadn’t gone looking for what I saw. But because I believed I wasn’t important, I thought that if I told my parents, they would be ashamed of me. This slowly led me down a path of addiction.
When I was 10 years old, I got onto social media, which gave me more ways to find pornography. At the same time, I started to compare my life with the “perfect” lives I saw on social media. I saw posts of people on vacation or hanging out with friends when I wasn’t invited. I saw people with these “perfect” bodies, and I didn’t think mine was good enough. With this cycle of self-loathing and addiction, my life spiraled quickly. At 14 years old, I planned to take my own life.
On a day I felt like my life was falling apart, my parents found out about my trials and guided me toward the Savior and His Atonement. It was a turning point in my life. I met with my bishop, and he and my dad gave me a blessing. It was the first time in six years I had felt the Spirit. It felt tangible.
It’s taken time and effort, but because of my Savior, Jesus Christ, I’ve been able to repent and grow stronger as a person. I’ve seen beautiful miracles in my life that are a direct result of the saving power of Christ’s Atonement.
I now spend my time as a public speaker, traveling the country and speaking to youth groups, schools, and communities about the harmful effects of social media and pornography. I teach about the importance of mental health and the need for suicide prevention. I’ve built a platform on social media that I can use for good. I just graduated high school. I’ve built two businesses and strong relationships with those I love. Most importantly, I’ve found God again. I have a sure testimony of God the Father, His Son, Jesus Christ, and Their power and influence.
None of this has happened because I have extra special talents or unusual abilities. Through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I’ve been able to repent, overcome challenges, and find peace and healing. If you think you’re too far gone, my answer to you is that you’re wrong. I was willing to surrender to the redeeming power of Jesus Christ. You can too.

When I was a child, my dad made decisions that hurt our family. After years of prayer, counseling with church leaders, and other resources, my mom filed for divorce.
Despite her struggles, my mom remained faithful in the gospel, and three years after her divorce, she remarried in the temple to my stepdad. They are two of the most Christlike people I have ever known, and I was lucky to be raised by them.

Sister Eileen Taylor of the Oldham Ward, Ashton Stake, lives in an area which has many back-to-back terraced houses, with some being built between 1900-1929. Between the streets are alleyways with the original cobbled stone.
Some residents began throwing furniture and rubbish bags into the alley, turning it into an eyesore. This is when Sister Taylor and her friend Maureen decided to do something about it. They began to have meetings with councillors and environmentalists to make changes and improve the state of the alley.
After two years of concerted efforts, they obtained enough money to make an amazing transformation. Solar lamps were added to lighten the alley at night, specially made fold up benches were attached to the walls, printed and framed photographs of Oldham’s cotton industry and other local historical events were displayed. Frames were made and painted for hanging baskets, and the wooden back gates were painted to add colour to the area.
Eileen and Maureen were awarded a certificate from “Britain in Bloom” and became involved with the Greener, Cleaner Environment Exchange Programme. They were invited to speak in other areas, such as Preston, regarding the environment and its impact on health and well-being.
The alley became a colourful vibrant place where children could play safely and adults could sit and chat. The children who lived here said, “It makes us happy seeing the flowers!” and they enjoyed helping to water them.
When Covid-19 kicked in, things sadly reverted. In November 2023, this changed when one of the Oldham councillors encouraged the friends to apply for a small “Love Where You Live” grant, enabling the renewal of flowers and worn items. This meant many hours spent over several months, buying and transporting the items needed to re-create a beautiful environment.
They both enjoy sitting in the alley with their neighbours, watching the children play. It has created a special communal feeling. Two people changed the alley, and it became a beacon for other areas. A true success story.

A new boy in my class didn’t have any friends. Kids made fun of him and called him mean names because he looked different. I felt bad for him. I talked to my mom about how sad it made me feel that he had a hard life and got teased for no reason. One day I asked my mom to put two brownies in my lunch. At lunchtime I asked Sammy if he would like one of the brownies. He had a big smile. The other kids looked at me as if they were wondering why I gave him a brownie. I said, “Sammy is my friend.” Sammy started asking me for help because he knew he could trust me. After I showed Sammy kindness, other kids did, too. It made me feel happy inside to know that I made a difference in Sammy’s life. We’ve become good friends. I think Jesus wants me to treat Sammy the way I do. He loves all children.

For a while when he was 14, Aleksey Kulikov was a man without a country.
Though his mother was from St. Petersburg, she had taken work in Nuremberg, Germany. While there, she and Aleksey met the missionaries, studied the gospel, were baptized, and became active Latter-day Saints.
Now they had to leave Germany. The government said noncitizens on work visas must return to their homelands. To make matters worse, Aleksey and his mother were told their papers were no longer valid in Russia.
“Officially,” Aleksey explains, “we had no citizenship anywhere.”
Things seemed pretty dark, but Aleksey and his mother knew about faith.
“I remembered what the missionaries taught me,” Aleksey says. “If you have problems, then pray about them. So we asked Heavenly Father to bless us.”
From then on, the trip became easier. “We found out we did have Russian citizenship. When officials found out we were carrying all we owned, they waived the luggage restriction. At the Lithuanian border, some kind soldiers took pity on us and kept us from being forced off the train. They even called ahead to the next border and asked them to let us pass. So we came without trouble to St. Petersburg.”
After six years, they were home. But what would the city be like, now that the Soviet Union was gone? What would the Church be like, compared with their wonderful friends in Nuremberg?
“We were delighted with what we found,” Aleksey remembers. “The city had a happier feeling. Some beautiful buildings were being renovated. But best of all, we found there is a new dawn of the Church in St. Petersburg. We knew the gospel had been restored, but now we know it’s been restored here too.”
Aleksey is now 17, a member of the Nevsky Branch. His greatest desire is to serve a full-time mission, “perhaps in Germany.” But it doesn’t matter where he’s called. “I know there’s gospel light to share wherever you go,” he says.

Mark and Barbara were engaged. In fact, it was just a few weeks before the wedding. Everything seemed to be in their favor. They were in love, they wanted children, Mark had a job waiting for him to start right after graduation, and just to make sure that they would get off to a great start they were taking a class together at Brigham Young University, “Achieving Success in Marriage.”
And then the plot began to thicken. One of the major assignments for the class was for a couple to do a babysitting project together. They were to volunteer, without pay, to spend as long a period as they could tending the children of a family they would choose. When Barbara proposed the plan to Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, who had seven children, they thought it was the best thing that had happened since Christmas and made plans to spend the next Saturday off by themselves in the mountains, leaving at nine in the morning and returning at ten in the evening.
The very first time Mark and Barbara had talked about having children, Mark had assured her that he wanted six. “Six?” Barbara had asked weakly. “Are you sure we can handle six?”
“Six,” Mark had emphasized. “The Lord will provide.”
At ten minutes past nine, seven children under eleven years of age waved good-bye to their parents and turned curiously to their two baby-sitters.
“Want to play ball with me?” said the five-year-old to Mark.
“Uh—sure.” Mark followed the boy out to the backyard.
In 15 minutes Mark was back in the house. He fished out his Advanced Accounting text from his briefcase and quickly converted the dining room table into a desk.
“I didn’t know about this test on Monday, Barb. But I think just a couple of hours should take care of it. If you can keep them outside for a while, I’d really appreciate it.”
“Come on, kids. Out to the backyard,” said Barbara. “I’ve got this game I want to teach you.”
The next three hours sped by for Barbara on wings of lead. She kept the children as quiet as possible while Mark studied, and then they all joined together for a backyard picnic lunch that Barbara and the older children had prepared.
“I think I’m too old to be a mother,” Barbara sighed, pouring Mark another glass of lemonade. “When I was 13 I used to do this all the time. What’s happened to me?”
“You’re doing great,” he assured her, fortifying her with a kiss.
“Wrestling time, wrestling time!” The eight-year-old boy pounced on Mark, and was quickly followed by three other children.
Mark good-naturedly rolled onto the grass, tickling as many ribcages as he could reach. Then he pushed the two-year-old toward Barbara with a look of great distaste on his face. “Phew. Smells like somebody’s pants need changing.”
So Barbara changed the pants. And Mark sat on the couch reading a storybook to the younger children, which was soon replaced by a news magazine. For the rest of the afternoon Mark’s major participation in the flow of events was to tie three pair of shoelaces and to send the rest of the problems to Barbara. At six o’clock he asked, “How long until supper, Barb?” And at eight o’clock, “Hey, isn’t it time these kids were heading for bed?”
At nine o’clock the last head was lying on its pillow. Barbara collapsed on the couch and closed her eyes.
“Alone at last,” sighed Mark and pulled her close to him.
“Just a minute,” said Barbara coolly, moving away. “I think we need a little talk.”
“Oh?”
“Six children? You said you wanted six children?”
“Yes.”
“You said the Lord would provide?”
“Yes.”
“Well, it’s beginning to seem to me that what you meant was that the Lord was going to provide you with me to do all the work.”
“I—I don’t get it.”
“Your idea of family living seems to be that you will preside and I will conduct—everything. Is that right?”
“Well, no. I expect to do my share. I’ve been working my tail off to get through school and get a job. It’s no easy thing to be a breadwinner these days.”
“So that’s all you’re going to be—a breadwinner? Have a nice, tidy, eight-to-five job, while mine goes eighteen hours a day, seven days a week?”
“Well, people sort of have to specialize. Our economy’s built on it. I guess I figured that I would specialize in bringing home the bacon and you would specialize in taking care of the kids. What do you want—one of those fifty-fifty contracts that some brides draw up?”
“No. No, I don’t. But I do want a husband that intends to be a father to his children, not just somebody that shows up at the supper table and gives a few instructions and hides behind a magazine.”
When the Taylors came home, the discussion was still going strong.
“Thanks so much,” said Mrs. Taylor, as she saw them to the door. “We had a wonderful time. I hope you learned what you came to learn.”
“More,” Barbara smiled. “Much more.”
At her place the discussion resumed, a discussion that should have happened months before. As they parted, Mark and Barbara were no longer engaged. Her idea of what a father should be, and his idea, were not the same.

Once I was helping my brother clean his room. He got frustrated with me and threw his soccer cleats at me. That made me angry. Later, when we were in our pajamas, I noticed a tan spot on my brother’s shoulder. I looked closer and saw that it was a scorpion! I remembered the soccer cleats and wondered if I should tell him about the scorpion or not. I decided not to, but then I thought, “He is my brother, no matter what.” So I told him and told my mom too. She flicked the scorpion off his shoulder. I’m glad I made the right choice.

Our membership in the Church has blessed our lives so much. When we first joined the Church we could not understand, speak, or read English. We would come to church each week and we enjoyed being there, even though we did not understand English. The branch president would invite us into his office after church was over and explain to us the teachings. We were nurtured by the leaders and other Church members.
Soon we were introduced to the Church’s literacy program. The senior missionary couples were our teachers. I especially wanted to learn to read, to write, and to speak English so that I could do God’s work and also teach my family. Through the Gospel Literacy program, we can now understand, speak, read, and write English. I do not know what we would do without the couples who contributed so much to our learning, serving as our teachers, and helping us to develop self-reliance skills. Our couples were Elder and Sister Brinks, Elder and Sister Renfroe, and Elder and Sister Wight. Without these couples we would not have been able to accomplish so much, but with their help and with God’s power, we are better now!
We love serving in our branch where Abraham is the elders quorum president and I am the Relief Society president. I can give lessons now and read from the scriptures.
We love holding family home evenings with our children. We are learning from the Come, Follow Me manual and we also pray together. I read scriptures stories to them from the Book of Mormon and the Bible.
We are so happy that our family is sealed together in the temple. It made my heart happy when I read, on the outside of the temple, those holy words! When I went inside, I thought, “This is a small heaven”. I loved it!
Ministering is a big part of what we do as members. We visit and support our other members. We have many members of our branch now. They are coming!
God has blessed us too much! We are so happy to be members of the Church and as we look back at our lives and how they have changed and been blessed because of our membership in the Church, we are so grateful. Our progress has been small but now we have strong testimonies and we will never leave the Church, not ever! If you ever come to Tamale, we hope that you will visit our branch.

It was not a good time. Questions swirled in my head that seemingly didn’t have answers. For months I had been struggling with who I was and what direction my life was taking. To remedy this problem I began attending many different churches, searching for the truth. But it seemed I always ended up at the church my family went to. Somehow, though, it never felt quite right. As I thought about my feelings, I just assumed I felt this way because my life was so mixed up. I was also associating with the wrong crowd and allowing these people to influence my life, which didn’t help matters. Deep inside, all I felt was utter loneliness.
I realized I needed to change my life. I stopped hanging around with people who were a bad influence on me, and I stopped putting myself in situations that would force me to choose between God and my friends. Even with these changes, I didn’t feel like I was receiving any answers or encouragement from God, and I sometimes wondered if He really was there.
In December I graduated from college, and I decided to move back in with my family in Utah. Those plans changed when my dad took a job in another state. Since I had already accepted an internship in St. George, Utah, I decided to stay. In St. George, I began going to my church, but once again felt alone and desolate. It was as if part of me were dead or missing.
One night in my room, I cried out to the Lord and asked Him for guidance and direction. I started to tremble and cry because I so desired to have Him in my life.
At that moment, I heard something or someone say, “Read the Book of Mormon.” It wasn’t a booming voice; it was gentle, quiet, and peaceful. This prompting confused me. I had been exposed to the LDS Church before and had no desire to learn about it. In fact, a high school friend had given me a copy of the Book of Mormon, and I had given it away.
I tried to brush off the voice, but it came again: “Read the Book of Mormon.”
“Why would I want to read the Book of Mormon?” I thought. The prompting came again. “It’s the perfect time. You’re on your own now.” As crazy as this seemed, I suddenly felt a strong desire to get a copy of this book, and I figured the visitors’ center at the St. George Utah Temple was a good place to start. I went on a tour with Sister Pang, a missionary serving in the center, and afterward we watched a movie and talked. The feeling of a presence—a holy presence—was so apparent that I had to fight back tears. It was like I was on the verge of discovering something wonderful. Sister Pang gave me a Book of Mormon as I left.
I went straight home and immediately began reading. As I studied 2 Nephi 27, I began to feel very tired. I almost closed the book, but again I knew I had to press on. I said a prayer that I would be able to understand what I was reading, and I continued. As I re-read the passage I decided to compare it to Isaiah 29 and 30. For me, these scriptures were the key that unlocked knowledge and understanding of the gospel. I knew then without a doubt that the words in the Book of Mormon were true. They were another testimony of Jesus Christ.
I rushed out of my room and told my roommates the Book of Mormon was true. To see the shock and excitement on their faces was great. I rushed to the visitors’ center, but Sister Pang wasn’t there. So I met Sister Taylor, and we talked for hours about the gospel. I asked the missionaries to teach me the discussions, and I set a baptism date after the first discussion.
It wasn’t all easy after that. For the next couple of weeks I received letters and phone calls from my family and friends telling me what to do—and what not to do. I didn’t mind giving up my friends and my lifestyle. But my family’s dislike of my decision made this time in my life very difficult. I decided to stop taking the discussions, to stop praying, and to stop reading. For a week I turned away from everything. I felt so alone and confused. Then one day I called my dad and told him I was determined to be baptized. He told me he loved me and then he hung up the phone.
The joy and peace I felt at that moment cast out everything else. I immediately prayed that Heavenly Father would comfort my family. I began the discussions again, and soon I received a letter from my father. He again told me he loved me no matter what, and I would always be his daughter.
The Lord had taken care of my family and led me to a new life. I’m so thankful for the missionaries, and I’m thankful for my friends who strived to live the gospel principles. Mostly, though, I’m grateful to be a child of God. Every day I’m amazed at the love and the comfort the Lord brings to me. To be recognized by Heavenly Father is so precious.

On my first visit to the fabled village of Sauniatu in Samoa, so loved by President McKay, my wife and I met with a large gathering of small children. At the end of our messages to these shy, beautiful youngsters, I suggested to the native Samoan teacher that we go ahead with the closing exercises. As he announced the final hymn, I suddenly felt compelled to greet personally each of the 247 children. But the time was too short for such a privilege, so I ignored the impression. Before the benediction, however, I again felt this strong impression to shake the hand of each child. I told the teacher that I wanted to shake the hand of each child. He displayed a broad Samoan smile before relaying my intentions in Samoan to the children. They all beamed when they heard his translation.
The teacher then told me the special reason for their joy. He said, “When we learned that President McKay had assigned a member of the Quorum of the Twelve to visit us in faraway Samoa, I told the children that if each one would earnestly and sincerely pray and exert faith like in the Bible accounts of old, the Apostle would visit our tiny village at Sauniatu, and through their faith, he would be impressed to greet each child with a personal handclasp.” Tears flowed as each of those precious boys and girls walked by and whispered softly to us a sweet talofa lava (hello). The gift of faith had been evidenced.

President Oaks taught us that “Family bonds are also strengthened by family stories, creating family traditions, and sharing sacred experiences.”[4]
One tradition we established was on the morning of our children’s baptisms. We would wake them up before sunrise. Still in their pajamas, my husband would wrap them in a blanket and drive them 45 minutes to the Nashville Tennessee Temple.

During the drive on narrow, rural roads, they would talk about the road signs indicating the curves ahead and "no passing" zones. He would then drive over the rumble strips on the edge of the road to demonstrate the warnings provided from veering off. He drew parallels between all of these markers and the teachings of Jesus Christ and His prophets. Following the road signs brought them safely to the temple; following the Savior would bring them safely to their heavenly home. Upon arriving, he walked them to the temple doors to see smiling temple workers dressed in white standing inside. Then, they watched the sun rise, discussing how baptism is like a new dawn. It was a truly memorable morning.

For years, I have wanted to create a large poppy display and in November of last year, I voiced this to our Relief Society president, Yvonne Kerr, who expressed a similar desire. Because we were coming to the close of a horrible year of lockdowns, we felt that setting this up as a project for 2021 would be an ideal time to do it as it would give us something to focus on while we were restricted to our homes and by giving us a common purpose, we would not feel so isolated. Little did we know at that point that we were heading into further lockdowns and this project became a lifeline for many women. The culmination of this work was to be a display at the chapel where we would hold a special commemorative meeting, to which we would invite community leaders as well as our members and friends.
Yvonne asked me to pull a small committee together to make this happen and I knew exactly who to ask.
Esther Wilford became our internal communications director, whose job it was to keep the sisters and ward members updated with our progress. When she relocated out of our ward, we enlisted Julie Beveridge who also did a wonderful job.
Yvonne Kerr acted as our external communications director. She sent out all the external invitations to official delegates, war veterans and medal holders to attend our event.
Mandy Watson acted as the technical and structural engineer (to ensure the large display was stable). The fact that the structure is so sound is very much down to Mandy’s skills and hard work. Part of the display was the silhouette of a soldier. Mandy built all the framework and did all the sealing to make it waterproof before spending many hours as doing several coats of undercoat and paint. She really needs to be acknowledged more for her role in it all. I had the idea and vision, but she engineered the whole thing. Mandy has lots of experience with making sure structures and frameworks are safe and secure and we would need her skills when it came to putting the display together. Mandy is in the middle of restoring a very large, old house and so many of the materials that went into the framework and structure of the display came from her home—from the netting holding the poppies to the cobblestones that weigh the stands down, to the scaffolding outriggers used to stabilize the frame.
I had the easy task of chairing the committee and acting as a wool merchant and distributor. Because we commenced the project during a four-tier lockdown in Scotland, no one could get out to buy wool so I bought in bulk then coordinated with individuals, finding safe ways to deliver and distribute.
Thirty women made and contributed poppies. Because we wouldn’t physically collect poppies from sisters, every four weeks, Esther, and then Julie, would send a request on various messaging platforms to ask how many poppies had been made since the last count. Sisters would relay this to me, and I would keep a tally in a small notebook. We were hoping to reach a total of 1,500 poppies, feeling we could do a nice, decent display with that amount. However, I soon had to keep a record using a spreadsheet because within no time at all we had by far exceeded our initial goal. By the week before the display went up, we had received a staggering 5,589 poppies!
3,592 were made by sisters from the Alloa Ward. Another 262 by sisters from other wards around the country.
There were 967 poppies made by a friend of one of our members and a further 692 made by others not of our faith based up and down the country who belong to a Facebook crafting group. There were also 76 that came from a nonmember relative of mine in Holland.
We were grateful to all 30 women who made and added to the total, but recognition should go to a committee member, Julie Beveridge, who made a very impressive 1,373 poppies herself.
A brother who gave plenty of help throughout the project, Eammon Brereton, made a ‘Lest We Forget’ sign as part of the display.
We estimate that thousands of hours were spent by so many in the preparations for this event but they all felt that this truly has been a labour of love.
Other neighbour and local companies contributed the steel and used their equipment to cut out the soldier’s gun, others donated tenting fabric, and super heavy-duty guy pegs from rebar. A kind and generous benefactor donated £200 for the making of the soldier. A self-employed contractor came to the building on the final day of construction, and when he saw that we were rapidly running out of time, took the afternoon off to help us with some of the wire tethering and knocking in ground spikes.
On 22 October we held an outside lighting up ceremony, conducted by Sister Yvonne Kerr. Besides members of the ward, we had in attendance invited guests who included the lord lieutenant of Clackmannanshire, Lt Col (Retd) Johnny Stewart, and the most senior member of the Alloa Ward, Sister Dorothy Kendall, who pushed a button that lit up the monumental display. Esther Wilford beautifully sang Vera Lynn’s “When The Lights Go on Again, All over The World” and “I Vow to Thee My Country”. One of our Primary children, Emma Black, read the much-quoted lines from ‘For the Fallen’ by Laurence Binyon. People passing stopped to join the crowd, inside and outside of the fencing surrounding the grounds.
We tried to give each poppy its own space to clearly represent an individual. There are varying shades of red and a myriad of patterns, symbolizing the differences in those individuals who, all together have made a huge difference for each of us.
Just before the button was pressed to illuminate the display, we acknowledged to the assembled crowd, many who were not members of our Church, that as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we try to put Christ at the centre of all we do and it was in His name that on that night and during the season of remembrance, we honour those from World War I and World War II who fought and fell to give us our freedom, but the display also honours and gives reverence to those in the past and those who currently protect our land, shores, and skies from unseen enemies. They are the real heroes, and that really is what the display is about.
Yvonne Kerr, president of the Relief Society, said: “We really felt that there was a need for people who weren’t able to get together to be able to do something in unity. “It was a good way for the women of the Church to stay in contact with one another and to be able to serve and help other people.” She added: “As COVID started to progress, we really wanted to run with the idea, to be able to acknowledge that there were other people who had sacrificed a lot more than we got to sacrifice. We were very privileged to be able to acknowledge them by creating the poppies.”
Yvonne Kerr told the Advertiser: “It was very well attended. We were surprised by how many people came. It was really wonderful—a lovely event and a great tribute to those who served in our military services and a great way to thank them for what they’ve done for us.”

An accounting clerk at a large university became a respected member of his profession--even holding a high office in his professional association. He was active in his church and community and had a good family. One day he discovered how he could take small amounts from the university without anyone noticing. He told himself that he was underpaid anyway--and besides, he would only use the money a short while and then return it. But the next month, more money was needed. Just a little more would not matter--he'd pay that back, too. The months stretched into years. The total amount taken swelled to several hundred thousand dollars. Then came the day when an audit uncovered his fraud. His reputation was shattered. His career came to an end. His family disintegrated. Ties with his church were broken. Where once he was a respected member of the community, now he was a common criminal unworthy of the trust and confidence of any employer.

Henry Eyring, a leading scientist and a great teacher who recently passed away, would have contests with his students. Even in his mid-sixties he could standing broad jump to the top of his desk. He challenged university students to a thirty- or forty-yard foot race.
One day just a few short years before he died, he was in the Church Administration Building. His brother-in-law, President Spencer W. Kimball, came out of his office and saw Henry Eyring standing there with a cane. He said, “Henry, what is the cane for?”
And Henry Eyring said, “Style, President, style.”
No wonder he had such an influence on the minds of young men all over the Church. He had “style.”