Gospel Story Finder

I have some health issues that weaken my body and mind, but I am thankful that I can understand and enjoy the New Era articles. Recently I read the February 2008 issue, and I was so impressed with two of the stories that I read them out loud to the rest of the family so they wouldn’t miss out. I really appreciated the articles “Too Fast!” and “What I Learned from Lisa.” They reminded me of an experience when I went to a rental car agency where I had worked 10 years earlier. When I asked if I could test drive a car, the sales manager remembered me and told me that I could drive any car I wanted to. He said, “One thing I remember about you is your integrity and honesty.” I was honored that someone would remember that about me a decade later. I hope I can always be worthy of that type of reputation.

Brian R.

Twelve-year-old Brian R. of Arizona, USA, was preparing to pass the sacrament for the first time. He didn’t want to make a mistake, so he asked the other Aaronic Priesthood holders in his ward to explain things to him.

“They were great,” he says. “They told me where to stand, where to go, and how to pass the trays.”

But even more important, they reminded him to be reverent. “We need to remember the Savior as we pass the sacrament,” Brian says. “If we are reverent, it helps others to remember Him too.”

Brian learned that others are happy to help him to understand his duties and to learn to do them well. “Just ask,” he says. “Moving from Primary into the Aaronic Priesthood is easier than you think.”

Nikki Estevez arrived in Adelaide, Australia from the Philippines in September 2019.
A few weeks after her arrival she was having a particularly hard day, struggling with the language and feeling very low, when she heard a voice saying, “I like your hat.”
When she turned around, she saw two missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints smiling at her. Nikki noticed their badges and knew they were missionaries because her best friend growing up in the Philippines was a member of the Church.
The missionaries were serving in the Adelaide City Branch at the time and as they weren’t too far from the branch meeting place, they asked Nikki if she would like to have a look where they worship each Sunday.
As Nikki had no plans and needed a distraction to lift her spirits, she agreed.
One of the first things she noticed when they arrived was a painting of the First Vision, which depicts Joseph Smith being visited by God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ in 1820. As she looked at the artwork, the words “This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!”1 came to her mind.
Nikki said that at that moment she felt that all the things she had been through in her life prepared her to join the Church.
Nikki remembered seeing that painting at her friend’s home and asking why Jesus was in that picture. Her friend’s mother explained the First Vision to her so when Nikki saw that painting again, she remembered her friend’s mother’s explanation and in particular the words “This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!”
Nikki said that at that moment she felt goosebumps, which she later recognised as the Spirit speaking to her.
Nikki had the missionary discussions and was baptised in November 2019, three months after arriving in Australia.

Manuel lifted the clean white cloth and counted the fresh tortillas in the woven basket he carried in his hand. There were still two dozen left. Grandma had told him if he didn’t sell all of them, there wouldn’t be enough money for cornmeal and beans next week.
Manuel had been to all of the houses in the village except that of the pretty young señorita who had just moved into the house across the street from where he now stood. He’d gone there on his rounds the day before, but she had told him she was busy.
“Should I try to sell her some tortillas again today?” Manuel asked himself. “Or should I just go back and tell Grandma no one else would buy the rest of her tortillas?”
He stood undecided, shuffling his bare feet in the soft dirt and staring soberly at the house across the street. Finally Manuel turned and started slowly toward the small adobe hut where he lived with his grandmother and little sister, Lupe.
As Manuel walked, he thought about how disappointed his grandmother would be when he returned without selling all her tortillas. Suddenly he stopped. I’ll go backto the new señorita’s home, he decided. Perhaps today she’ll buy some.
Quickly Manuel retraced his steps and went up the flagstone pathway that led to the little house.
He rapped lightly on the door and waited a few minutes until the young señorita opened it. She was even prettier than he remembered, and somehow she looked kinder too.
She smiled at Manuel and asked, “What do you want, little boy?”
“I sell tortillas,” Manuel replied, holding the basket out toward her. “Would you like some?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she answered.
“They are very good,” Manuel said quickly. “They’re fresh today.”
Seeing the small boy’s expression of disappointment, the young woman hesitated.
Manuel became very conscious that she was looking at his ragged shirt and pants and his bare feet. He bowed his head and started to turn away without another word.
“Wait!” she said. “What is your name?”
“Manuel,” he replied.
“I think I’ll try some of your tortillas, after all,” she smiled. “Come in while I get a pan to put them in.”
She held the door open for Manuel and then left him alone as she went into another room.
In a few moments she returned. Manuel was surprised when she uncovered his basket and put all the tortillas in a shiny pan. His smile was broad as he thought how pleased Grandma would be, for now she could buy food the family needed.
“Oh, dear!” exclaimed the señorita as she looked in her purse. “I can’t buy these from you today. I only have fifty pesos, and no change—unless you have some.”
Manuel reached into his pocket and pulled out the ten pesos he carried. “This is all I have, Señorita.”
“I can’t buy them today then,” she said as she began to put the tortillas back in his basket.
Manuel’s face fell. “Wait, please!” he said. “I’ll take your money to the market and get it changed.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that,” said the señorita, shaking her head and looking doubtful.
“Please,” Manuel said quickly. “I’ll bring it right back.”
The señorita looked down at the boy and slowly shook her head again.
Manuel blinked to hide the tears that filled his eyes, but one escaped and rolled down his cheek. He turned and wiped it away with his sleeve as he started to walk away.
The señorita suddenly felt uncomfortable and ashamed.
“Come back, please,” she called. “I know I can trust you. Go get the change for me, and I’ll keep your tortillas here until you come back.”
“Gracias, Señorita!” cried Manuel as he ran from the house.
Manuel’s bare feet slapped in the soft dirt as he hurried toward the village market. But gradually he slowed to a walk and examined the bill he held tightly in his hand. As he looked, he thought of Lupe’s big brown eyes when she stood in front of the jars of candy in the market. He knew how much she wanted some. He also remembered how hard Grandma worked to make the tortillas to sell.
Suddenly Manuel began to wonder if he should keep the money. It was enough to pay for the tortillas he had left behind. There would be enough left over to buy food for many days and even some sweets for Lupe at the market.
Then he remembered the señorita’s words, “I know I can trust you.” Besides, he had given her his word, and Grandma had often told him no person is good unless his word is good too. Suddenly he wanted very much for the señorita to like him and trust him just as Grandma and Lupe trusted him.
He quickly changed the fifty pesos and then ran back to the señorita’s home.
“Come in, Manuel,” she said as she opened the door. “I knew you’d come back.”
“Here is your money,” he said, giving her a handful of bills.
She counted out the money she owed for the tortillas and then gave him an extra peso. “This is yours for going to the market for me.”
“Gracias, Señorita,” said Manuel, his eyes lighting with pleasure. “You are very good to me.”
She ruffled his hair. “How would you like to work for me? I need someone I can trust to run errands and help me around my yard.”
A broad grin spread over Manuel’s face as he picked up the basket. “Si, Señorita. I’d be happy to work for you. I will work very hard too!”
“I’m sure you will,” replied the woman. “Come back tomorrow, and there’ll be many things you can help me do.”
“I’ll come back,” he promised.
As Manuel ran home, his heart sang and he whistled a happy tune. He could hardly wait to tell Grandma about his wonderful new job!

Produced in Salt Lake City in 2022, the demo video for ‘I See the Christ’ features vocalists Casey Elliot, from the musical trio Gentri, and Savannah Stevenson, a leading lady from London’s West End. They are accompanied by Jayne Galloway on piano and Grammy-nominated cellist, Nicole Pinnell.
Scott first saw Nicole play in the film adaptation of Rob Gardner’s musical production, Lamb of God, where, through her cello, she stunningly represented the voice of Christ. Following a prompting that spoke to his heart, Scott reached out to her via social media.
“I feel that Heavenly Father truly opened a door for me through Nicole’s incredible talent, generosity and connections,” Scott recalls. “I am so grateful that she had the heart to be willing to listen to my music.”
Nicole introduced Scott to Casey Elliot, and Scott reached out to Savannah Stevenson, also via social media, after seeing her perform on a Brigham Young University programme. Savannah sang the solo for, “Bring on Tomorrow,’ and in the duet, ‘I See the Christ’ with Casey.

There is an old Welsh story from the 13th century about a prince who returned home to find his dog with blood dripping down its face. The man rushed inside and, to his horror, saw that his baby boy was missing and his cradle overturned. In anger the prince pulled out his sword and killed his dog. Shortly thereafter, he heard the cry of his son—the babe was alive! By the infant’s side lay a dead wolf. The dog had, in reality, defended the prince’s baby from a murderous wolf.

“Then there was the time on the bus going to play in a soccer match. (The girls and boys teams ride together.) I was reading the Book of Mormon. I have a big quadruple combination, and it was rather conspicuous. One of the boys who had been living in Utah said he’d never seen a Book of Mormon before and wanted to see it. He started looking through it and asking me questions about it. Before long, the whole back of the bus was involved in a discussion about the Book of Mormon. It was as if a curtain had been drawn between the front of the bus and the back, because up in front they were telling inappropriate jokes.”

Finally, I would like to tell you how my wife and I ended up here in beautiful Laie. A little over a year ago, I had decided to start to look for another job in the Salt Lake area near where we lived. I had worked for the same company for over 12 years and felt like it was time for a change. We were very comfortable in our home, our ward and had no intentions to move. The job market was good in Salt Lake and I started looking for another opportunity.

One night as I was watching the Utah Jazz game on TV an email came to me. I opened it up and it had a job listing for an HR Director at BYU Hawaii. I laughed and said to myself wouldn’t that be a great job. Especially with a foot of snow in our yard. But we wanted to stay in Salt Lake so I quickly deleted the email and finished watching the game. A few weeks went by and I did not give it another thought until I received a second email with the same BYU Hawaii job listing. This time I opened up the job posting and looked at it more closely. However, I still thought it was a huge long shot but I went ahead and applied on-line which only took me a few minutes. After I had finished applying, I did not give it another thought until, to my surprise, I got an email a few days later from the recruiter (Sister Lake) asking me for more information.

At this point in the process, I decided to tell my wife. She had always wanted to live by a beach. I told her about it, she just laughed and said, we can’t move to Hawaii! I laughed too and once again did not give it much thought since the recruiter told me there were over 50 candidates. Another few weeks went by and Sister Lake contacted me and told me that I had made the top 10 and they wanted to do a Skype interview with me. It was the first time that I thought that maybe I had a shot at the job. So I carefully and prayerfully prepared for the Skype interview. I had made a list of 10-15 common interview questions and prepared my answers. To my surprise the interview panel asked almost every single question I had prepared for (in order). When the interview ended I told my wife about the experience. For the first time she had a worried look on her face and she knew that this was a real possibility. We got an invitation to fly over to Oahu to interview for the job. The interview process went well and I was offered the job. We had decided to stay a couple of extra days on Oahu to enjoy the beach and check out potential housing options. However, I could tell that Leigh Anne was very worried about being so far away from our family and leaving our comfortable life in Utah. I had some of the same concerns. In fact, I could tell that she was leaning towards staying in Utah. I suggested we go to the temple and see how we feel. On Saturday morning we went to an endowment session.

To be honest, I felt pretty good about moving to Hawaii but I knew the easy decision would be to stay in Salt Lake. I knew in my heart that if this is where the Lord wanted us we should go but I knew Leigh Anne was not comfortable with the move. So during the entire temple session, my prayer was simple. I told the Lord that I was willing to move but only if my wife felt like this was the right decision for our family. After we finished the temple session, I met her right outside the front door. Leigh Anne had a solemn look on her face and was very quiet. I could not tell from her expression what she was thinking. We walked around behind the temple and sat down on a bench.

She immediately broke down and started to cry. She said she had a clear vision of our life in Hawaii and went into great detail about what it would be like. She was given direct revelation from our Father in Heaven. She said we have no choice but to move. The Lord wants us here. The rest is history. During the next few months the Lord literally opened up the windows of heaven and poured out many tender mercies to make our move to Hawaii a good one. So many things fell into place. We were worried about what to do about our home in Utah. Our good friends ended up renting it. There was uncertainty as to where we would live. We ended up in a beautiful home.

I don’t have any photographs of myself as a child. One afternoon during my senior year in high school, my mother, who was a school teacher, and I were driving home together after my basketball practice. We lived on a ranch about three miles outside of the small town of Lima, Montana, where the school was located. As we neared our home, we could see smoke billowing up from the house. I was driving and rushed to get home. When we got there, the house was already engulfed in flames. Fortunately my stepfather and little brother were safely out working in the field. But everything that we owned, everything, burned in the fire. That was a very traumatic experience for me. I was sixteen years old, and to be left with nothing was a very, very lonely feeling.
Friends came that night and put my family up in their homes for a few days. I was distraught from worrying about what our family would do. I stayed awake most of the night, worrying and occasionally weeping. I remember that my mother came into my room about four o’clock in the morning and said, “My dear son, everything will be all right. As long as we have family, friends, and the gospel, we have everything.” That was a marvelous lesson for me to learn.

Less than a month ago, two missionaries visited a widowed lady who had expressed interest in the Church. She was ill and had been advised by her physician that a kidney was to be removed. The elders comforted the woman, heeded the whisperings of the Spirit, and pronounced a blessing. Another miracle happened. The operation was cancelled, and the missionaries began teaching their friend the gospel. A baptismal date has already been set. This particular woman will never forget the blessing and teachings of the elders. They will be held in cherished memory and regarded as “saviors of men.”

When my husband was a bishop, he came home from interviews one evening and told me that he had just been talking with his Elders Quorum President who had a very long list of attributes and characteristics he was looking for in a wife. He honestly felt like he had to check off every characteristic as he continued his quest for the perfect woman. At the top of his list were the physical attributes he thought were essential beauty being number one. His list required her to be perfect in every category.
This young man had confided to my husband, his bishop, that he really liked a young woman in the ward whom he had dated recently, but she didn't meet all of his criteria. Fortunately, he was able to get comfortable with the fact that he was not perfect either. This couple did marry. They have a wonderful family with four children, and he is now a Bishop. He and his family are living the plan.

I was once moved by a Christlike example of everyday ministering when I was shopping in a big grocery store. I came across a lady who was trying to lift heavy cases of water into her cart.

A man nearby quickly noticed that she was struggling and came over to help. When they got the cases loaded, he even asked if she needed any more help from him.

As I noticed this beautiful act, this stranger looked over at me and greeted me kindly with a smile. His expression seemed to say that he was willing to help me as well if I needed it.

His example reminded me of the Savior.

The Savior always ministered without hesitation when He saw a need. He often served and offered His aid without question—only love. Seeing the example of this man has stuck with me and inspired me to look for everyday opportunities to minster in my own life. And I now see that those opportunities are everywhere.

After the game I checked my journal and found that on Saturday, December 13, 1985, I attended the BYU versus Pepperdine basketball game with a friend. Here’s what I wrote, but keep in mind that I was eighteen years old at the time:

We got there way early. In the program there was an updated section on those missionaries who are on the BYU team and are on missions now. It was so cool to read about Marty Haws [whom I’d gone to high school with] and Brian Taylor [who is now Elder Brian K. Taylor]. About seven minutes into the game, I looked across the court from us and saw President Jeffrey R. Holland [the BYU president at the time] and his family. I really wanted to have him sign the book he wrote that I’d bought Mom and Dad for Christmas, so my friend and I went back to the dorm, carefully unwrapped the present [that I had waited in line to have hand-wrapped at the BYU Store], ran down the stairs of portal H to the front row, and passed the book with a note in it past the security guard to President Holland. President Holland stood up and waved to me. [He has known my parents for decades.] Then he sat down and wrote the following:

“To Ken and Janet, With best wishes, and thanks for sending Teresa to us, Jeff.”
The book was However Long and Hard the Road.9

Although I didn’t specifically write that I recognized God’s hand in my life that evening, reading what I had written brought back the memory of realizing that Heavenly Father knew me.

More than fifty years ago, Ben Roberto was born on Angaur, a small island some three kilometers wide and four kilometers long near Palau (or Belau). “When I was young,” Ben says, “Angaur seemed like a large place, but when I started looking at magazines and seeing other places, I realized how small it was.” After two years in college on Guam, he joined the United States army, hoping to experience more of the world.
He found more than he expected during his tour of service in Vietnam. “I had never experienced anything like that,” Ben says. “It got me to wondering what life was all about.” After his service in the military, Ben worked at various jobs in the United States, finally ending up as an iron worker. He was looking for “something exciting.” But “after all the searching, there was still something missing. I felt there had to be more to life.”
One day he came across a Gideon Bible in a motel room. Reading it left him hungry for more and feeling that what he might be looking for was God. “So I started looking, going to different churches. Something started happening to me, troubling me, telling me to go to Palau. I was in Milwaukee when I decided to go home.”
After Ben returned to Palau, his long search for God remained fruitless—until one day in 1980, a year after his return home, he was approached by LDS missionaries. The Church was new in Palau, and at first he rejected their words as nonsense. But after reading the Book of Mormon and some other Church literature, he received a spiritual witness that he had found the truth.
Ben was baptized and turned his life over to the Lord. Despite his age (he was 41 at the time), he was prompted to serve a mission. It didn’t seem a likely possibility—but a mission president was inspired to call him on a district mission. Elder Roberto served in Palau for 16 months. Shortly after his release, he was married, then sealed in the Manila Philippines Temple.
Ben currently serves as a district president. He is also a member of Palau’s board of education and works for the legislature. “The Church has been the greatest education that I have had,” he says. “When I’m given a task, I use my church experience, the way the Church does things, to get it done.”
President Roberto praises the missionaries for helping redirect the tide of change in Micronesia. The gospel improves lives, and because the missionaries represent it so well, “many Palauans are accepting the Church. Every missionary who has come has left a good impression.”

A most touching letter was received recently from a mother expressing her appreciation for her bishop and for a social services worker who had provided assistance in her family. May I quote from that letter:
“The summer will be remembered as ‘the best thing that has happened to Roseanne and David to date’!
“As you know, life has presented both children with special problems, and my heart has ached as I have seen David withdraw from social situations, and Roseanne offend and lose friends in her effort to make them.
“There are those who can help with their physical problems—therapy for a boy and medication to help calm a hyperactive daughter—but where could I turn to find someone to understand and help with the resulting emotional problems?
“When my bishop suggested LDS day camp I thought, ‘Good! This will be a good summer for them and will solve my baby-sitting problem, since it is necessary for me to work.’ Those two benefits would have made me feel the money invested was worthwhile—but they were just the beginning. Before the summer was over, I saw my son insist on taking the lead in a difficult hike up the canyon. In the past he had been content to follow behind. I saw him ‘rappel’ down the side of a building with the use of a rope, and the look of self-pride as he exchanged smiles with his counselor cannot be bought. By the end of the summer Roseanne had learned to put her frustrations into words and will most often try to reason with me in reaching a solution. This is a new experience for us.
“Raising a hyperactive child is a lonely position to be in, because even though friends try to understand, they cannot and usually react as though the child has problems because she is spoiled. It has been great therapy for me to meet weekly with people who do understand.”

Janetta pulled the quilt close around her shoulders and shuddered. Even with its comfort and the warmth from the fire, she felt cold.
“Janna!” her little brother wailed from the lean-to. “I had a bad dream!”
“Come here,” she called softly, holding out her arms. He climbed onto her lap and snuggled down to sleep again. Soon the warmth from his small body flowed into hers and they were both warm.
James whimpered in his sleep, and she rocked him gently. His nightmares had begun this last year. It had been a year especially full of things that could disturb a three year old.
She looked away from their fire across the mighty Mississippi to Nauvoo, where she could see the distant flicker of fires that surrounded the temple where men were still working.
That was “her” temple. She felt a pride in it because she had helped build it. With her mother, she had cooked food and made clothes for the families of those who worked on the temple.
That was how she’d met her best friend, Sarah. One day when Janetta was delivering supper to some workers, she ran right into a girl her own age and knocked her down. When the girl got up, she put her hands on her hips and said, “Well, this is a fine way to meet a new friend.” She grinned at Janetta, then stuck out her hand. “I’m Sarah, and I’m new to the city.”
Janetta shook her hand. “I’m Janetta, and I’ve been here since the beginning.”
It was a great friendship. They giggled together as they spun wool, carded it, and knit through the long winter days. They were proud that men working on the Lord’s temple wore their socks.
Janetta looked again at the flickering lights and felt sadness creep in. Her father had left before the temple walls were up. Their family had never had the opportunity to go inside to be sealed together as a family.
The worst of the trouble had started the summer before, when the Prophet Joseph was killed. Everyone was numb from the tragedy. It was as if a cloud of darkness covered their beautiful city—only there weren’t any clouds.
With tears streaming down their cheeks, Sarah and Janetta had stood hand in hand as the bodies of the Prophet and his brother Hyrum passed by in a wagon coming from Carthage. Later, after the bodies had been prepared at the Mansion House, her parents stood in line to view them.
As the sorrow lessened, some of the Saints became confused. Rumors circulated in the city that the Church was doomed. Some predicted that the temple would never be finished. Several men claimed to be the next leader of the Church.
Janetta was troubled by the confusion. “Father,” she asked one day, “what will happen now? Who will lead the Church?”
Her father took her in his strong arms and hugged her. “This Church was true while Joseph lived, and it’s true now that he’s dead. It’s the Savior’s Church, and He’ll provide a leader for us. We’ll listen to the Brethren and follow what they say. There’s a meeting in the grove tomorrow, and Brother Brigham will tell us what’s right.”
The next day the Saints eagerly gathered at the grove. The first speaker was Sidney Rigdon. Janetta listened very carefully, for he claimed to be the proper leader of the Church. He talked on and on. The more he talked, the more she fidgeted and the worse she felt. She looked over at Sarah and caught her eye. When Sarah winked at Janetta, they both tried hard not to giggle,
Finally Sidney Rigdon sat down and Brigham Young closed the meeting. He announced another meeting under the direction of the Apostles at two o’clock.
Janetta and her parents hurried home and put James down for a nap. Leaving a neighbor to watch him, the three hurried back to the second meeting. Even though they were early, the only seats left were way in the back. Janetta was too short to see over people, but she could still hear the speakers.
Brigham Young stood up and began to speak. Hearing him, she felt a peace fill her. Then suddenly she jumped up and craned to see over the heads of the people in front of her. She thought she had heard the Prophet Joseph!
A blind man sitting beside her jumped up too. “That’s Joseph speaking to us. Surely he’s not dead!”
The extraordinary effect lasted only for seconds, but the people knew that Brigham Young had been chosen to lead the Church. They all listened very carefully to every word that he said.
When the meeting was over, Janetta hurried to find Sarah. “Did you hear him?” she asked excitedly. “He sounded just like the Prophet.”
“I not only heard him,” Sarah answered softly, “I saw him. It was like Brother Joseph was standing right there before us.”
The girls were silent for a moment as they reverently thought of what they’d just witnessed.
“I’ll never forget this,” Janetta whispered. “Brother Young is our prophet now. We can safely do everything he tells us to do.”
Soon after that memorable meeting, her father’s name was read as one of the missionaries called to go on a mission. Afterward the family wept together. They were proud that he was worthy to be called, but sad that he was leaving.
Then one crisp autumn morning Janetta kissed her father good-bye. They parted not knowing when or where they’d meet again. But they all knew that the Lord would protect them and reunite them, if not in this life then in the next.
“Janetta,” her mother said now, interrupting her thoughts, “I’m home. Let me take James and put him back to bed. You must be exhausted. Go to sleep.”
Janetta smiled at her mother. Here they were, camped on the bank of the river, with no roof over their heads, and yet her mother called it home. “Did Sister Brown have her baby?”
“Yes, a fine boy,” Mother answered happily. She warmed her hands by the fire. “I think he’ll be all right, even if he was born in the middle of the wide open spaces.” She turned to her daughter. “Go get some rest. We’ll be leaving early in the morning.”
“I can’t sleep,” Janetta answered sadly. “I keep thinking about our old home. I wonder who’s sleeping all warm and cozy in my bed.”
“I loved that house, too,” her mother answered softly. “Your father built it carefully to shelter us and make us happy. But we’ll be better off far away from the mobs, where we can be safe.”
Janetta continued to stare into the dying flames of the fire. Sleep and comfort seemed far-off.
Her mother rummaged around in their bags for their treasured copy of the Book of Mormon. She began softly to read aloud. At first Janetta only listened to her voice, not to the words. Then the words began to sink in. They told of Lehi and his family, who had left all their worldly goods in Jerusalem and fled into the wilderness.
Mother stopped reading. “It seems we’re in good company,” she said and smiled at her daughter. “We’re not the only ones of the Lord’s people who have had to leave their homes.”
Janetta smiled back, feeling the comfort she needed. Together they left the fire and went to their beds. She said her prayers and snuggled into the bed. She knew that the Saints were doing the will of God. She’d had that witness that they were being led by a prophet. It brought her peace.

Thank you for sharing “A Year on Temple Square” in your magazine and online at friend.lds.org. My family has enjoyed it so much that we decided to spend a day on Temple Square during a recent trip to Utah. We got to see the temple where our mom and dad were married. We also toured the Beehive House and talked to the sister missionaries. Our favorite part was seeing the Christus statue and watching videos about how families can be together forever. We had so much fun!

Kathryn and Emily Phillips were both excited when their stake president called them to obtain the contents of the box to be placed in the cornerstone of the new Bountiful (Utah) Temple. For approximately seven months, the box was part of the family while they gathered, sorted, and prepared its contents.
““The box is sort of like a time capsule,” says 14-year-old Emily. “We put things in it that were representative of the time when the temple was built.”
Newspapers, histories of the area where the temple was built, pictures of the temple under construction, and books about the lives of both President Benson and President Hunter were included in the box, which was sealed in the cornerstone when the temple was dedicated in January.
After gathering all of the desired items to put into the box, Kathryn and Emily’s work still wasn’t finished. They did 30 presentations for Primary, Mutual, and adult groups, explaining what they had done.
““My favorite group was a group of Primary children,” says 18-year-old Kathryn. “They had raised some money and bought a set of scriptures to put in the cornerstone box. During the program, we all sang ‘I Love to See the Temple.’ I’ll never sing that song quite the same way again.”
Although the box is out of sight, it will always be close to the hearts of these sisters who are now eagerly awaiting the time when they can enter the temple.

From 1856 to 1860, thousands of Latter-day Saint pioneers pulled their belongings in handcarts for over 1,000 miles (1,600 km) as they traveled to the Salt Lake Valley. One hundred sixty-seven years ago this very week, on October 4, 1856, President Brigham Young was surprised to learn that two handcart companies, led by Edward Martin and James Willie, were still hundreds of miles from Salt Lake, with winter fast approaching. The very next day, not far from where we meet today, President Young stood before the Saints and declared: “Many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with hand-carts, and they must be brought here. … Go and bring in those people now on the plains.”
Just two days later, the first rescue parties departed in search of the handcart pioneers.
A member of the Willie company described the desperate situation prior to the arrival of the main rescue team. He shared: “[Just] when it seemed all would be lost, … and there seemed little left to live for, like a thunderbolt out of the clear sky, God answered our prayers. A rescue party, bringing food and supplies … , came into sight. … How we thanked God for our rescue.”

A certain prophet, President Spencer W. Kimball, on one occasion a few years ago asked me to accompany him to the Utah State Prison. He invited me to go to the vineyards with him because I, Marvin J. Ashton, knew the location. He wanted to spend some time with those confined to prison. On this occasion I heard and saw a prophet declare glad tidings in a way that has left me with an everlasting impression. It was a unique invitation. It was an unusual request. I doubt that any other apostle in modern days has had an experience that comes even close to this. I learned much from a prophet who was wise.

May I say in the beginning when he first asked me to accompany him to the prison at the point of the mountain. I felt impressed to say to him. “President Kimball, I don’t want you to go to the prison for a visit. I’ve had enough experience there to know that your life would be in danger, and some people would do anything to get attention, embarrass, or even harm you. Please, President Kimball, if you don’t mind, let’s not go right now.”

A few days passed and he talked to me on the telephone again and said, “Marv, I want to go to the prison with you.” I could tell that he was earnest and very sincere. The time for delay was over. I called the warden and asked him if we could come down the following day and visit with him and two inmates of his choice. He agreed, and I took President Kimball to the institution.

We were greeted by the warden and taken to his office. He hadn’t been there very long when two inmates were invited to come in and meet with us. They were in their prison garb and looked hard. I felt very uneasy when the steel door closed behind them and we were left with the two of them, the Prophet, myself, and the warden.

President Kimball shook their hands before we all sat down. This was followed by a brief period of intense silence. The prisoners were looking at the floor. President Kimball was looking at them, and I was looking at him. After this awkward period of silence was over, President Kimball started off with what seemed to me to be an unusual approach. The thought crossed my mind that he could say: “What are you in here for? Why did you do it? When do you get out? You ought to be ashamed of yourselves,” or “What is your previous record?” To my pleasure and further education and for their involvement, he looked at the one, and said to my surprise: “Tell me about your mother.” The prisoner responded and told President Kimball and others of us assembled about his mother, the details of which are not important for my purposes today.

When this was over, with the prisoner doing the talking and President Kimball doing the listening, President Kimball finally looked at the other prisoner and said: “What does your father do for a living?” He too responded with comments, and the Prophet gave complete attention and listened intently. In a few minutes I had seen and heard a prophet counsel and interview. They looked at him, responded, and looked in his face while he gently listened. Before our interview was over, word had spread that President Kimball was at the prison visiting, and some of the media were outside the doors waiting for pictures and conversation with President Kimball. President Kimball invited some of the press into the room with a cameraman. One reporter said, “President Kimball, we’d like to have a picture of you talking to these two inmates.” President Kimball granted the interview by standing up promptly and getting between the two prisoners as the picture was taken.

I recall as though it were yesterday what he said after the picture was taken. He shook one hand and then the other and said, “Thank you, boys, for letting me have my picture taken with you.” One of these hardened prisoners was in for murder and the other one for grand larceny. To say they were touched and responsive is an understatement.

I will never forget the impact of this visit upon me and my future. A wise, gentle prophet conducted his interview without embarrassment, without ridicule, and without condemnation. I know I have told this story before and shared it around the Church, but I felt impressed to relive it with you just for a few moments today as we think of interviewing, counseling, instructing, and touching lives with wisdom. Frankly I still wonder if President Kimball’s main purpose for the visit was to see the prisoners or to teach a new apostle in a live classroom. How wonderful it would be if we could counsel with wisdom under all circumstances. A well-respected administrator or teacher should be skilled in asking right questions.