Gospel Story Finder

A young woman writes:
“A girl at school, not as popular, needs help in science. My friends in the higher group tell me to leave her alone or it would ruin my reputation. And then I remembered when I needed a friend and help in math. I put myself in her place. Not only did I help her out, I made a new friend.”

After the completion of the Salt Lake Temple in 1893, non-LDS sculptor Cyrus Dallin was asked to create a new design, one that most angel Moroni statues are patterned after today. Dallin wrote that his experience with the project “brought me nearer to God than anything I ever did. It seemed to me that I came to know what it means to commune with angels from heaven.”3

“I especially liked Elder Oaks’s talk when he talked about not compromising our values. Recently I have been struggling with how the world’s view on the family and marriage has been falling apart and how it seems to be that I am the only one who’s supporting the values of the family. Having this talk addressing these problems in my life has calmed my fears and given me peace for the future.”
Katelyn B., 16, Utah, USA

I will give you another little illustration of what I mean. When I was doing missionary work back in Massachusetts some years ago, and it was near Easter time, I had a conversation in the home of a retired minister. I asked him if he would explain to me his concept of the Deity. He told of the universal feeling and the teachings of the churches, that he believed that the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost were one God, but a spiritual God—not a physical God—that there was an influence that permeated the earth, the life of the flowers and the trees and so forth.
Then I said: “Well, what are they celebrating Easter for?”
And he said: “The resurrection of Christ.”
And I said: “And just what do you mean by that? Did His spirit come back and take possession of His body when the stone was rolled away, and He arose, and when the women came to the sepulchre, there sat an angel, one at the foot and one at the head, and they said: ‘Why seek ye the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen’ (Luke 24:5–6)? Then you remember how many times He appeared to the Twelve and then He had them feel the prints in His hands and the wound in His side, and said: ‘Handle me, and see; for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as ye see me have.’ (Luke 24:39.) Then He took fish and honeycomb and ate with them. After spending forty days with His disciples, then He ascended to heaven and as He went up, two men in white apparel stood and said: ‘Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven.’” (Acts 1:11.)
Then I said to this minister: “Now how in the world can you believe in a spirit rather than that personal Christ that went into heaven? Did you feel that He died again, that He should be just an essence in the world rather than to have that very body that He took up and became the first fruits of the resurrection, which is a reality, and not just a spiritual resurrection?”
The minister thought a minute and then he said: “I have never thought of it like that before.”

The cornerstone for the new temple was Paid July 23, 1833, and work began soon, with members joining together to assist. It demanded sacrifice and financial commitment from everyone: workers laboring in the sandstone quarry; stonemasons, carpenters, joiners, glaziers, and painters who worked at the site; women who spun wool and wove clothing for the workers; and others who contributed to pay the estimated $60,000 cost of construction. As the sacred building neared completion, families donated glassware, china, etc., to be crushed and worked into the plaster to give the temple a gleaming appearance.
Events surrounding the dedication of the temple in March 1836 were a spiritual high point in the history of the Church at Kirtland. In preparation for the dedication, Joseph Smith introduced ordinances of washing of feet and anointing with oil to priesthood leaders. This was in keeping with the Lord’s commandment to them to “prepare yourselves, and sanctify yourselves; yea, purify your hearts, and cleanse your hands and your feet before me; that I may make you clean … from the blood of this wicked generation.” (D&C 88:74–75.) These were preliminary ordinances to the full endowment introduced by the Prophet several years later in Nauvoo.
So many wanted to attend the formal dedication services on March 27 that the dedicatory prayer, given by revelation, was repeated several times so all could hear. At the meetings, William W. Phelp’s new hymn, “The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning,” was sung for the first time. That night, in a priesthood assembly, the temple was filled with sounds like wind, and several of those in attendance spoke in tongues. Witnesses outside reported hearing the rushing sounds and saw a shaft of light on the temple steeple. Members likened their experiences to the spiritual outpourings of the Day of Pentecost.
A fitting climax to several days of similar experiences came on Sunday, April 3. At the afternoon meeting, after partaking of the sacrament, Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery dropped the curtains that surrounded the west pulpits. With the privacy this afforded, they knelt in silent prayer, after which a vision was opened to them and they “saw the Lord standing upon the breastwork of the pulpit.” (D&C 110:2.) The Savior accepted the temple and promised other blessings. Then three more visions were shown to Joseph and Oliver. Moses delivered to them keys of the gathering of Israel; Elias confirmed upon them “the dispensation of the gospel of Abraham”; and Elijah gave them keys “to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children and the children to the fathers.” (D&C 110:12, 15.)

The Saints who went to Missouri in the early 1830s were commissioned to live the law of consecration, but they failed to do so.

In 1834 when they were being attacked by mobs and driven from their homes, Joseph Smith led a “party known as Zion’s Camp, bringing clothing and provisions. While this party was encamped on Fishing River the Prophet received [a] revelation” (D&C 105 headnote) which began:
“Verily I say unto you who have assembled yourselves together that you may learn my will concerning the redemption of mine afflicted people—
“Behold, I say unto you, were it not for the transgressions of my people, … they might have been redeemed even now.
“But behold, they have not learned to be obedient to the things which I required at their hands, but are full of all manner of evil, and do not impart of their substance, as becometh saints, to the poor and afflicted among them;
“And are not united according to the union required by the law of the celestial kingdom;
“And Zion cannot be built up unless it is by the principles of the law of the celestial kingdom; otherwise I cannot receive her unto myself.” (D&C 105:1–5.)

Illustrations by Casey Nelson
I hit the snooze button on my alarm clock. I was in a morning daze and slept in longer than usual. As a result, I was going to be late for early-morning seminary. I hurried out the door and started my car, but it would not move out of the driveway. After a few minutes, I realized that my emergency break was on, preventing the car from moving. It was only six in the morning, and things were already feeling difficult. Plus, I had a busy and demanding day ahead of me. As I drove, I pleaded with my Heavenly Father, “I’m trying to do what I should. Please help me.”
That morning we learned something in seminary that I really needed to hear. My teacher said, “Remember that Heavenly Father is more powerful than Satan, so don’t let Satan get you down.”
Satan was getting me down that morning—I was feeling defeated and upset. I decided that what I needed most was some comfort from the scriptures. I opened my Book of Mormon and read Mosiah 9.
In this chapter, the righteous people of Zeniff go up against a much larger army, the wicked Lamanites. But however daunting the battle seemed, Zeniff’s people trusted Heavenly Father. “And God did hear our cries and did answer our prayers; and we did go forth in his might” (Mosiah 9:18). “Go forth in his might,” I repeated to myself.
I looked at my situation. Although I wasn’t going into a life-threatening battle, I thought of myself as the little army. I was a warrior going up against the difficult morning behind me and the demanding day ahead of me. I realized that I needed to put on the armor of God and “go forth in His might.” And by trusting in Him, I was able to accomplish a lot that day.
There is no doubt that Heavenly Father knows very well what we need, and when we have enough faith to pray or open our scriptures, we will be blessed. I believe that if we study the scriptures every day, they can relate to our specific needs every day.

Prison warden Kenyon J. Scudder has related this experience: A friend of his happened to be sitting in a railroad coach next to a young man who was obviously depressed. Finally the man revealed that he was a paroled convict returning from a distant prison. His imprisonment had brought shame to his family, and they had neither visited him nor written often. He hoped, however, that this was only because they were too poor to travel and too uneducated to write. He hoped, despite the evidence, that they had forgiven him.
To make it easy for them, however, he had written them to put up a signal for him when the train passed their little farm on the outskirts of town. If his family had forgiven him, they were to put a white ribbon in the big apple tree which stood near the tracks. If they didn’t want him to return, they were to do nothing, and he would remain on the train as it traveled west.
As the train neared his home town, the suspense became so great he couldn’t bear to look out of his window. He exclaimed, “In just five minutes the engineer will sound the whistle, indicating our approach to the long bend which opens into the valley I know as home. Will you watch for the apple tree at the side of the track?” His companion changed places with him and said he would. The minutes seemed like hours, but then there came the shrill sound of the train whistle. The young man asked, “Can you see the tree? Is there a white ribbon?”
Came the reply: “I see the tree. I see not one white ribbon, but many. There must be a white ribbon on every branch. Son, someone surely does love you.”
In that instant he stood cleansed by Christ.
His friend said, “I felt as if I had witnessed a miracle.”

“It Is Better to Look Up!”
At the end of a particularly tiring day toward the end of my first week as a General Authority, my briefcase was overloaded and my mind was preoccupied with the question “How can I possibly do this?” I left the office of the Seventy and entered the elevator of the Church Administration Building. As the elevator descended, my head was down and I stared blankly at the floor.
The door opened and someone entered, but I didn’t look up. As the door closed, I heard someone ask, “What are you looking at down there?” I recognized that voice—it was President Thomas S. Monson.
I quickly looked up and responded, “Oh, nothing.” …
But he had seen my subdued countenance and my heavy briefcase. He smiled and lovingly suggested, while pointing heavenward, “It is better to look up!” As we traveled down one more level, he cheerfully explained that he was on his way to the temple. When he bid me farewell, his parting glance spoke to my heart, “Now, remember, it is better to look up.” …
President Monson’s encouragement to look up is a metaphor for remembering Christ. As we remember Him and trust in His power, we receive strength through His Atonement. It is the means whereby we can be relieved of our anxieties, our burdens, and our suffering. It is the means whereby we can be forgiven and healed from the pain of our sins. It is the means whereby we can receive the faith and strength to endure all things.
Elder Carl B. Cook of the Seventy

As a discus thrower for my high school’s track-and-field team, my dream was always to become good enough to compete in the state track meet.
I worked tirelessly to achieve this dream: I was the first to arrive at practice and the last to leave. When everyone else huddled inside because of the weather, I practiced in the pouring rain.
After three years, I had vastly improved. I kept beating my personal record and placing in meets, but I still couldn’t make it to state! I only had one season left before I graduated, so I pinned all my hopes on it.
Then the district meet came—my last chance to qualify for state. And I lost. I failed.
At the end of the meet, I felt so defeated. In one moment my dream seemed so real and so possible, and in the next, it was all gone. I felt like I had wasted those years of practice.
Then one day a song came on the radio that reminded me of one of my favorite track meets, when my teammates and I spontaneously sang that song together. It reminded me that there were so many good memories and lessons from track that I could always remember, even though I hadn’t achieved my goal.
It can be painful when we don’t reach the goals we’ve worked really hard for. But because of Jesus Christ and His tender mercies, we can find hope and focus on the good in life.
Heather C., Oregon, USA

Sunday dinner was over in the Salt Lake avenue home. The fast had been prayerfully broken, and Ruth was in the kitchen with her mother. Washing dishes for the family was a daily task for her since her three brothers weren’t old enough to be of any real help. Besides, she really enjoyed that private time with her mother. But tonight was special. Brother Tracy Y. Cannon, one of the Church’s most outstanding musicians, had come to dinner. He and her father, T. Fred Hardy, were in the living room—discussing Ruth.

It was about her possible career in music. By the time she was 12, she had already demonstrated an unusual talent and desire to be a musician. She would often get up at 4:00 A.M. and sit for hours at the piano. Her difficulty was stopping, not starting, her practicing. She disliked scales but knew they were vital to her skill, so she invented a way to add interest to her practice: she would pick a book she wanted to read and set it where the piano music should have rested. While reading, she would run through all her exercises with proficiency.

Brother Cannon knew of Ruth’s skill and promise, and of course, her family was aware of the potential in their daughter. But it wasn’t until Leopold Godowsky (one of the world’s greatest pianists) heard her play and strongly recommended that she be sent to the best schools to pursue a career in music that any real consideration was given to special training for Ruth.

The final decision was her father’s. Her mother had offered the prayer as the purposeful fast was ended. Ruth had been consulted and talked with in depth, and Brother Cannon had been asked to share his concern and deep experience. Ruth very trustingly and willingly submitted to her father’s decision: No—the life of devotion to music was not the Lord’s plan for her.

From then on, music took a new focus in her life—it was never lost, only redirected. And the experience she had with her kind and caring father proved to be a foreshadow of many events to be guided by the hand of the Lord and directed through the priesthood bearers in her life.

“Home schooling isn’t as great as I thought it would be. For chemistry class, I have to test the chemical reaction between liquid soap and a pile of dirty dishes. For math, I have to subtract dirt from the carpet and add polish to the furniture. For phys ed, it’s a grueling lawn care triathlon …”
Randy Glasbergen

About 10 years ago I felt impressed to paint a portrait of the Savior. Though I am an artist, this felt a bit overwhelming. How was I to paint a portrait of Jesus Christ that captured His Spirit? Where was I to begin? And where would I find the time?
Even with my questions, I decided to move forward and trust that the Lord would help me. But I had to keep moving and leave the possibilities to Him. I prayed, pondered, researched, and sketched and was blessed to find help and resources. And what was a white canvas started to become something more.
The process wasn’t easy. Sometimes it didn’t look as I had hoped. Sometimes there were moments of inspired strokes and ideas. And many times, I just had to try again and again and again.
When I thought the oil painting was finally complete and dry, I began to apply a transparent varnish to protect it from dirt and dust. As I did, I noticed the hair in the painting start to change, smear, and dissolve. I quickly realized that I had applied the varnish too soon, that part of the painting was still wet!
I had literally wiped away a portion of my painting with the varnish. Oh, how my heart sank. I felt as though I had just destroyed what God had helped me to do. I cried and felt sick inside. In despair, I did what anyone would typically do in a situation like this: I called my mother. She wisely and calmly said, “You won’t get back what you had, but do the very best you can with what you’ve got.”
And I Partook, by Kristin M. Yee
So I prayed and pled for help and painted through the night to repair things. And I remember looking at the painting in the morning—it looked better than it did before. How was that possible? What I thought was a mistake without mend was an opportunity for His merciful hand to be manifest. He was not done with the painting, and He was not done with me. What joy and relief filled my heart. I praised the Lord for His mercy, for this miracle that not only saved the painting but taught me more about His love and power to save each of us from our mistakes, weaknesses, and sins and to help us become something more.

Krista loved Stanley Park. She loved the beaches. The playgrounds. The petting zoo. The train ride.
But most of all, she loved the aquarium! It had all kinds of sea animals. She watched a brown seal swim around and around.
But then she heard something. A girl was crying! No one stopped to help her.
Krista tugged on Mom’s sleeve. “Look. That girl is crying!”
Mom looked. She held Krista’s hand and walked over to the girl.
“Hi,” Mom said. “Can we help you?”
“I can’t find my mom.” The girl sniffled.
“Come sit with us,” Mom said. “We’ll wait with you.”
Krista and Mom sat with the girl. Her name was Sarah.
“When you’re lost, the best thing to do is stay where you are,” Mom said. “Then your mom will know where to find you.”
Sarah looked so sad and scared. Krista wished she could help. She said a little prayer in her mind. Heavenly Father, please bless that Sarah’s mom will come back.
Krista tried to make Sarah feel better. She asked her questions. She told her cool facts about seals. She even gave her a pretty seashell she had found at the beach.
After a while, a woman ran up to them. It was Sarah’s mom! She gave Sarah a big hug. They both said thank you to Krista and Mom.
Krista was glad she could help someone!

In grade school and junior high, Kalin participated in athletics, but by the time he was a sophomore in high school, things began to unravel. He was skipping too much school and his grades were going downhill. He played in four games; then his poor academic record forced him off the team. For two years of high school he watched games from the stands. He started hanging around some guys with gang affiliation. The bond between these guys appealed to Kalin, who was not used to being close with anyone. He became a follower.
Then things hit bottom for Kalin. He got kicked out of school for fighting in defense of a friend. He got caught riding on a scooter someone else had stolen. He wrote a suicide note to his mother. “I don’t know if I was serious,” says Kalin, “but I put it in my mom’s purse, and she found it.”
His mother took him to a hospital for help, and things turned around for Kalin. “I decided I had to change. I saw a lot of guys older than me doing nothing, hanging around selling drugs. I couldn’t see myself that way. I knew I was a fairly bright kid. I knew there was a purpose for me. I always prayed every night before I went to bed. I didn’t know why I did that. Nobody taught me. It was something I felt I had to do.” Only later did Kalin realize that those early feelings that helped him to pray every day prepared him for the changes he would make in his life.
Looking for a new group of friends, Kalin watched the people he admired to see what they were doing. He saw they were going to class, getting good grades, and playing sports. In one semester of school, he raised his grades to As and Bs. He played football and basketball his senior year of high school. As a high school running back, he was all-conference, all-region, and all-state. He was named Nevada’s Gatorade Player of the Year. But he paid a price for messing around for two years of high school. He was not eligible to be recruited by a Division I football school. He was headed to a junior college. He chose Dixie College in St. George, Utah, because it had a good football program and was close to home.

An experience that I had on my mission shows how Heavenly Father watches over us. My companion and I had just taught and baptized a family in Leeds, England. Then we were transferred to Bradford, about a half-hour bus trip away. One day, my companion and I were getting ready to visit some missionaries in our district, but it seemed like we just could not get out the door. Each time we left, we realized that we had forgotten something.

After returning three times, we thought, Maybe there’s some reason we should stay here. We sat down, and within a few minutes, the phone rang. It was the mother of the family we had baptized in Leeds. She was very ill, and she needed us to come give her a blessing. We immediately left for the bus stop, where the bus was just about to leave. When we changed buses, we again caught our bus very quickly. When we arrived, the woman was so sick that she was shivering badly, and we couldn’t even understand her words. My companion and I gave her a blessing, and as I said the words, we both felt so much strength leave us that we had to sit down for almost ten minutes. During that time, she was able to stand, go to her kitchen, and prepare something for the three of us to drink. When we left half an hour later, she was completely healed and waved to us at the door. Not all priesthood blessings are answered so quickly and happily, but we were overjoyed for it to happen to this good sister.

Jimmy Weston munched on a handful of jelly beans as he walked home from school. “Sometimes I wish Dad wouldn’t get transferred so often,” he muttered, kicking at a loose stone on the sidewalk.
Rolf rode by on his bike. “Hiya, Shorty!” he shouted.
Jimmy liked Rolf, but he hated being called Shorty. He wondered what it would feel like to be as tall as the other guys in his new sixth grade class.
He finished the last jelly bean and went into his house through the back door. A note from his mom invited him to have some fresh cookies that she’d baked. It also reminded him to stack the last of the boxes used for moving and to sweep out the garage.
Jimmy had finished a cookie and was just changing his clothes when the phone rang.
It was Mrs. Cobb, his teacher. “Jimmy, I know you’re new in town,” she said, “and you probably haven’t heard about the fall parade we help with each year.”
“No, ma’am,” Jimmy replied.
“Our class has been asked to do something special this time. I’m asking my students to try to come up with some ideas.”
“I’ll try to think of something, Mrs. Cobb. Thanks for calling me.”
Moving and stacking the empty boxes didn’t take Jimmy long, and he had almost finished sweeping the garage when his mother turned into the driveway. He gave one last push to the broom, then tossed it into a corner. As he did so, a long stick fell toward him.
“Hey, Mom,” Jimmy called as he pulled another stick from against the wall, “what are these things?”
His mother had her arms full of groceries. Glancing over her shoulder, she replied, “Oh, I’d almost forgotten about those. Here, Jimmy, help me carry some of these sacks into the house, and I’ll show you what they are.”
Mrs. Weston pushed open the back door, and they quickly put the groceries away. Then they went back to the garage.
“Those are the old stilts that your father had when he was your age. I didn’t remember that we still had them. Why don’t you try them out?” Mrs. Weston held the stilts upright. “Stand up on this box,” she said. “It’s about even with the footrests of the stilts.” She held the stilts steady. “Now, put your feet into the stirrups.”
Jimmy laughed as he fitted his feet into place. “It’s kind of like mounting a horse,” he said.
Mrs. Weston said, “Keep the stilts parallel and tight against your legs as you pick them up and move forward—it’s much like walking.” She steadied Jimmy as he moved slowly around the garage. Then she took her hands away, and he was on his own.
“Hey, Mom, this is really neat! I’m tall … like a giant!” he whooped. Clumping around the garage, then up and down the driveway, Jimmy felt like a king looking over his lands. “How do I get down?” he yelled as he moved toward the house.
“Go to the side of the back porch, Jimmy,” Mrs. Weston coached, “and get off there just like you got on.”
Jimmy carefully slipped his feet out of the stirrups, stepped onto the porch, then carried the stilts back into the garage. “Wow, Mom, I’ve never felt tall before. That was great!”
That night after supper Jimmy practiced walking on the stilts again. It was even easier the second time.
Three days later Mrs. Cobb asked Jimmy and Rolf and four other children in the class to stay after school for a meeting. “Have any of you come up with some ideas for the parade?” she asked. “It’s only ten days away.”
“We could make a float again this year,” Rolf suggested halfheartedly.
“Or we could dress up in costumes,” one of the others said.
As Jimmy sat listening, he suddenly thought of something different that they could all do. “Why don’t we each make a pair of stilts? We can wear long jackets and go as giants.”
He stopped, wondering if the others would think his idea was silly. But they weren’t laughing; they were looking at each other and nodding excitedly.
“Sounds like a great idea, Shorty, but how do you make them?”
“We can work on them in our garage,” Jimmy said, trying to forget that Rolf had called him that name again. “My dad has a pair that he used when he was a boy. We can use them for our pattern.”
Mrs. Cobb smiled. “It sounds like a really different idea, Jimmy. A good one too. Thanks.”
On the way down the hall after the meeting, Rolf playfully punched Jimmy’s shoulder. “I guess if you get up on those stilts, I can’t call you Shorty anymore.” He grinned.
Jimmy grinned back. “That would suit me just fine, Rolf,” he said.
Munching jelly beans on the way home, Jimmy realized that he didn’t feel short anymore. Maybe it wasn’t his height that had made Rolf change his mind about the nickname, but the fact that he had been willing to help the rest of the group, regardless of what they called him. He felt as tall as any of them now.
The next few days were busy with sawing, hammering, and sanding. Finally six pairs of stilts were ready for the parade.
The childrens’ mothers had all gotten together and made matching long jackets and tall hats.
The day of the annual event was bright and sunny. Bands played, there were decorated bikes and fancy floats, and marchers threw sticks of gum and candy kisses as they passed by the kids. But the biggest cheers were for six striding giants in fancy long jackets and tall hats, grinning and nodding to the crowd.

The author says, “Just in case you might think that maybe a blind colt would not be able to do all the things that this one did … we had a blind range colt on the ranch in Montana. … And he was a smart little feller.”Glen Rounds9–12 years

I wish you could accompany the General Authorities some time on an assignment to reorganize a stake. It has been my experience on a number of occasions to assist in these reorganizations. It never fails to be a remarkable experience. Some time ago, late on Sunday night, returning after the reorganization of a stake with Elder Marion G. Romney, we were riding along silently, too weary I suppose to be interested in conversation, when he said, “Boyd, this gospel is true!” (An interesting statement from a member of the Twelve.) And then he added, “You couldn’t go through what we have been through in the last forty-eight hours without knowing that for sure.”

I then rehearsed in my mind the events of the previous hours; the interviews we had held, the decisions made. We had interviewed the priesthood leadership of the stake and invited each of them to make suggestions with reference to a new stake president. Virtually all of them mentioned the same man. They indicated him to be an ideal man for a stake president with appropriate experience, a fine family, sensible and sound, worthy in every way. Near the end of our interviewing, with just two or three left, we interviewed this man and we found him equal to all of the estimates that had been made of him during the day. As he left the room at the conclusion of the interview, Brother Romney said, “Well, what do you think?”

I answered that it was my feeling that we had not seen the new president yet.

This confirmed the feelings of Brother Romney who then said, “Perhaps we should get some more men in here. It may be that the new president is not among the present priesthood leadership of the stake.” Then he said, “But suppose we interview the remaining few before we take that course.”

There was another interview held, as ordinary as all of the others had been during the day—the same questions, same answers—but at the conclusion of this interview, Brother Romney said, “Well, now how do you feel?”

“As far as I am concerned,” I said, “we can quit interviewing.” Again this confirmed Brother Romney, for the feeling had come that this was the man that the Lord had set His hand upon to preside over that stake.

Now, how did we know? Because we knew, both of us—together, at once, without any doubt. In reality our assignment was not to choose a stake president, but rather to find the man that the Lord had chosen. The Lord speaks in an unmistakable way. Men are called by prophecy.

Fifty-five years ago, I knew a young man, Robert Williams, who held the office of priest in the Aaronic Priesthood. As the bishop, I was his quorum president. When he spoke, Robert stuttered and stammered, void of control. He was self-conscious, shy, fearful of himself and everybody else; this impediment was devastating to him. Rarely did he accept an assignment; never would he look another person in the eye; always would he gaze downward. Then one day, through a set of unusual circumstances, he accepted an assignment to perform the responsibility to baptize another.
I sat next to Robert in the baptistry of the Salt Lake Tabernacle. I knew he needed all the help he could get. He was dressed in immaculate white, prepared for the ordinance he was to perform. I asked him how he felt. He gazed at the floor and stuttered almost uncontrollably that he felt terrible.
We both prayed fervently that he would be made equal to his task. The clerk then said, “Nancy Ann McArthur will now be baptized by Robert Williams, a priest.”
Robert left my side, stepped into the font, took little Nancy by the hand, and helped her into that water which cleanses human lives and provides a spiritual rebirth. He spoke the words, “Nancy Ann McArthur, having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
And he baptized her. Not once did he stutter! Not once did he falter! A modern miracle had been witnessed. Robert then performed the baptismal ordinance for two or three other children in the same fashion.
In the dressing room, I hurried to congratulate Robert. I expected to hear this same uninterrupted flow of speech. I was wrong. He gazed downward and stammered his reply of gratitude.
I testify to you that when Robert acted in the authority of the Aaronic Priesthood, he spoke with power, with conviction, and with heavenly help.
Just over two years ago it was my privilege to speak at the funeral services for Robert Williams and to pay tribute to this faithful priesthood holder who tried his best throughout his life to honor his priesthood.