Gospel Story Finder

This brings me to my second personal story in this trilogy of knives. Like the first, I was a Boy Scout and summer scout camp was rapidly approaching. I still did not have a pocket knife so I asked my mother to use hers. The only one that she owned was given to her by her younger brother and somehow she knew that young boys have the inclination to lose things. I begged and pleaded to use her knife and finally promised that I would take special care of her knife if she'd allow me to use it at scout camp. After all, I insisted, she wouldn't want me to be the only scout at camp that couldn't carve wood, do leather work, and then carve chicken for dinner, all using the same knife! You must remember that at scout camp, one knife is sufficient for everything. My mother finally consented and happily off to camp I went. When I begged for help from my mother, my intentions were good. However, once achieving my goal, I quickly forgot those good intentions and my stated commitments.

One night while all the scouts were appropriately attending nightly devotion, my scout troop, each with our pocket knives, went about pursuing silly boyhood mischief. We seized the opportunity to stealthfully creep over to our rival ward's camp and proceeded to cut the ropes to all their tents. Once their tents were neatly on the ground the watchman's cry was heard that devotion was over and the rival ward's troop was making its way back to their camp. As my troop and I took off on a full run back towards our camp, I slipped my mother's knife into my front pocket. I cannot describe the horror I felt as, almost simultaneously, I remembered the hole in my front pocket and I felt the knife fall down my pant leg and fly out just as I hurdled some small bushes. With the help of my troop, by flashlight we frantically looked for my mother's lost knife until, one-by-one, flashlights went out and I was left alone to try and find the knife and to explain to the rival troop whose tents lay level with the ground how I had managed to lose my knife so near the outskirts of their camp.

It was in the early morning hours of the next day when I finally concluded my repentant prayer. It was with great difficulty that I explained to the Lord how I had maltreated my fellow scouts, how I had been blessed with the pocket knife, for which obtaining was so important to me, only to misused the blessing which I had received, and most importantly, how I had sacrificed the trust of my mother. The power, praise, and acceptance that I had sought in engaging in such youthful folly was hardly worth what I had sacrifice along the way.

One of my favorite prophets of my youth was President Boyd K. Packer. As a child, President Packer grew up surrounded by an orchard. One day he was working on irrigating the orchard. The rows were overgrown with weeds and soon the finite supply of water began to flood in every direction. He frantically worked in the puddles to shore up the bank, but just as soon as one was patched, another one broke. A neighbor came by, watched for a moment, and then with a few strokes of the shovel, cleared the ditch and allowed the water to course through the channel he made. The neighbor said, “If you want the water to stay in its course, you’ll have to make a place for it to go”. President Packer likened thoughts to the water. “Thoughts will stay on course if we make a place for them to go, otherwise thoughts follow the course of least resistance, always seeking the lower levels”. Learning to control your thoughts is easier said than done, probably one of the hardest things you’ll learn to do, but President Packer reminds us that as we learn to control our thoughts, we can overcome habits, gain courage, conquer fear, and have a happy life.

Troy Jackson, Jaren Hope, and Andrew Allan are bearers of the Aaronic Priesthood who were called by an inspired bishop to team teach a family history class in their ward. These young men are representative of so many of you in their eagerness to learn and desire to serve.
Troy stated, “I used to come to church and just sit there, but now I realize that I need to go home and do something. We can all do family history.”
Jaren reported that as he learned more about family history, he realized “that these were not just names but real people. I became more and more excited about taking the names to the temple.”
And Andrew commented, “I have taken to family history with a love and vigor I did not know I could muster. As I prepared each week to teach, I was often nudged by the Holy Spirit to act and try some of the methods taught in the lesson. Before, family history was a scary thing. But aided by the Spirit I was able to step up to my calling and help many people in our ward.”

Nellie Middleton, a fifty-five-year-old Latter-day Saint, lived in Cheltenham with her six-year-old daughter, Jennifer. To prepare her home against air strikes, she had used her modest wage as a dressmaker to furnish an area in her basement as a shelter, complete with food, water, oil lamps, and a small iron bed for Jennifer. Following instructions from the government, Nellie had also covered her windows with netting to catch flying shards of glass in the event of an attack.1
Now, all over Cheltenham, bombs were whistling through the air and crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar. The terrifying noise grew ever closer to Nellie’s home until a tremendous explosion on a nearby street rattled her walls, shattering the windows and filling the netting with razor-sharp glass.
In the morning, the city streets were filled with rubble. The bombs had killed twenty-three people and left more than six hundred homeless.2
Nellie and other Cheltenham Saints did their best to endure after the attack. When British Mission president Hugh B. Brown and other North American missionaries left the country nearly a year earlier, the small branch and others like it struggled to fill callings and run Church programs. Then the local men went away to war, leaving no priesthood holders to bless the sacrament or formally administer branch business. Before long, the branch was forced to disband.
An older man named Arthur Fletcher, who held the Melchizedek Priesthood, lived about twenty miles away, and he rode his rusty bicycle to visit the Cheltenham Saints whenever he could. But most of the time it was Nellie, the former Relief Society president in the Cheltenham Branch, who took responsibility for the spiritual and temporal welfare of the Saints in her area. With the branch closed, the Church members could no longer meet in the rented hall they used on Sundays, so Nellie’s living room became the place where the Relief Society prayed, sang, and studied.3
On a quiet November night in 1943, Nellie Middleton heard her doorbell ring. It was dark outside, but she knew enough not to have the lights on when she opened the door. Nearly three years had passed since German bombs had first fallen near her home, and Nellie continued to darken her windows at night to keep herself and her daughter safe from air raids.
With her lights out, Nellie opened the door. A young man was standing on her front step, his face in shadow. He extended his hand and quietly introduced himself as Brother Ray Hermansen. His accent was undeniably American.4
A lump came to Nellie’s throat. After their branch disbanded, she and other women in Cheltenham had longed to take the sacrament more regularly. The United States had recently sent troops to England to prepare for an Allied offensive against Nazi Germany. Once it had occurred to Nellie that some of the American soldiers stationed in her town might be Latter-day Saints who could bless the sacrament, she had asked her stepsister, Margaret, to paint a picture of the Salt Lake Temple and place it in town. Below the picture was a message: “If any soldier is interested in the above, he will find a warm welcome at 13 Saint Paul’s Road.”5
Had this American seen her poster? Did he have authority to bless the sacrament? Nellie shook his hand and welcomed him inside.
Ray was a twenty-year-old Latter-day Saint soldier from Utah and a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood. Although he was stationed ten miles away, he had heard about the Salt Lake Temple painting from another Church member and obtained leave to visit the address. He had walked to Nellie’s home on foot, which was why he had arrived after dark. When Nellie told him about her desire to take the sacrament, he asked her when he could come to administer the ordinance to her.
On November 21, Nellie, her daughter, and three other women welcomed Ray to their Sunday meeting. Nellie opened the meeting with prayer before the group sang “How Great the Wisdom and the Love.” Ray then blessed and passed the sacrament, and all four women bore testimony of the gospel.
Soon other Latter-day Saint soldiers heard about the meetings at Saint Paul’s Road. Some Sundays, Nellie’s living room was so full that people had to sit on the staircase.6

Recently I had the opportunity of riding a pleasure boat up Germany’s Rhine River. The three-hour trip only covered a few miles because we had to go against the current. The bus that took us to that boat sped on ahead to our destination, affording the driver a long nap while he waited for our vessel to churn against the river before catching up to him. As we sunned on the deck, looking at the medieval castles jutting out among the vineyard-covered hills paralleling the famous river, we saw many similar boats pass us from the opposite direction traveling at several times our speed.
Perhaps you have experienced such a boat ride or tried to swim or row against the current. You might have wished then that it was your option, like our oncoming craft, to ride easily in the opposite direction—allowing the force of the current to sustain you instead of the exertion of muscles. There is an obvious parallel in our secular society: it is easy, fun, fashionable, acceptable, even legal to move with the sensual current in entertainment, in courtship, in reading materials, but it leads into a secular atmosphere that you do not control. There is, however, another life-style that could be called “swimming upstream.”
For example, there was a young soldier on sentry duty one day. His foul-mouthed sergeant, whom he generally avoided, approached him. The recruit steeled himself for the customary barrage of profanity that he would later have to scour from his mind. Instead his sergeant said, “You’re a Mormon, aren’t you?” The recruit nodded in the affirmative, with some surprise, only to be stunned by the next observation: “I could tell because you don’t swear.” The private gulped inwardly as he took quick inventory. The sergeant continued: “You know what gets me about you guys? You are good when you don’t have to be!”
Another time in the military a whole delegation of LDS college men went through summer training. As they moved from one field demonstration to another, each hour they endured the military instructors who began each session with a dirty joke. One NCO unintentionally prefaced the inevitable lewd story by asking, “Anyone object to a joke?” There was a split second of intense silence while the opportunity ran through the group. Then quickly from the back came a solitary but solid, “Yes.” The cadreman looked up in shocked surprise, immediately becoming defensive. Intending to intimidate such an upstart, he fired back, “Well, leave if you don’t like it.” Again a second of silence—followed by a decision. Then three-fourths of the group voted with their feet.
The military experience is like other forays into secularism that LDS youth are facing today. They are away from home with carnal options on every hand—gambling, profanity, pornography, immorality, and bug-out-ism. Such crass enticements successfully ensnare the uncommitted, but thousands of others choose to swim against the current. One young priest, during his first week away from home, confronted some returned missionaries in his barracks who appeared more sophisticated. Why weren’t they saying their prayers, he queried. His challenge encouraged them all to overcome their smoothly disguised fears of censure. They joined after lights out for a family prayer each night. Soon they discovered that their Mormon compatriots throughout the post were doing the same in small scattered groups; they even included their fellow nonmember squad members. The result was a brotherhood—blessing when sick, counseling when troubled, and bolstering each other during competition—instead of the harassing, cutting, and undermining that are so common in basic training. This higher life occurs without leaders or instructions; it emerges from being “anxiously engaged in a good cause,” from conviction, from feeling the power of God within. All over the globe, many Mormon youth seek out each other. Their spiritual adventures are legion. They often reach out to friends who have followed the carnal path into deprivation. Their example, caring, and persistence have supported many through a transformation that has led them into the Melchizedek Priesthood, the temple, sometimes mission calls—in other words, into their eternal potential.
These modern youth discover the spiritual adventure, not appreciated by many today, that is symbolized by the legendary friendship of David and Jonathan in ancient Israel. Here were two young men who should have been rivals because David was anointed to be the successor to Jonathan’s father, King Saul. Instead, their commitment to virtue bound them, as the scripture says, so “that the soul of Jonathan was knit with the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.” (1 Sam. 18:1.)
The contemporary Davids and Jonathans in high schools and colleges, in the mission fields or army, on the job or the playing field, experience these rare friendships. They have no need to long for that relationship between David and Jonathan. It is available right now.
How can that be?
It is because there are many young Latter-day Saints, worldwide, who have caught the vision. They have discovered that by adhering to the Word of Wisdom, attending church, paying tithing, and performing other essential requirements, they are prepared to move on to a higher law—one that happens only in the soul, one that causes a burning in the bosom, a resolve in the mind, and a love in the heart. Once this happens, these youth discover a whole new vista about the gospel. They realize that being able to proudly answer to a bishop that they have refrained from sin is an exciting achievement and will help one enter the temple. But there is also a virtue built upon that restraint; it consists of positive acts that one has initiated. These are possible for young men and women who master their natural tendencies and then continue to grow by adding personal initiatives—magnifying the priesthood and radiating virtue.
This is what bound David and Jonathan; it was pure joy to love one who also loved virtue. Jonathan added selflessness and sacrifice to his basic self-mastery; David added total dedication. Their love for one another was magnified because they were committed to common principles. Their lives had purpose well beyond desire to rule an earthly kingdom over which they could easily have parted. Instead theirs was a consecration to build a kingdom of God. This vision throbbed in their beings and gave meaning to their lives.
For them and countless of your generation, it is not only a matter of filling requirements and doing what is expected in the structured environment of the Church. Instead, while holding to that rod, you go beyond to total dedication on your own initiative. It is the adventure of virtue when you are away from observation. That is where you find spiritual excitement—when you are on your own.
The result is electric.
In countless student apartments prayer permeates college life without destroying fun. On campus, as well as on the job, friendships grow beyond the joys of adolescent idealism when Mormon youth out on their own discover the adventure that awaits those who achieve self-mastery. In one apartment, for example, four freshmen lay awake late into the nights discussing the profundities of a universe governed by eternal progression. In another circle several young men regularly drove to the mountainside where they could view the heavens and discuss truths learned. There they extended the evening’s worship, pondering the galaxies. The power of prayer bound two other youthful companions, who were linked by friendship and by assignment as local missionaries. Because of the draft and a war, they were not called as full-time elders, but they did not let that rob them of the power others had to go to distant lands to discover. They found it on their own through mighty prayer, as have many others. There are home evening groups on many campuses that love roommates into the gospel—often guiding them through the substantial trials that conversion can inflict. These examples are not unusual; they are but a selection from a whole vista of LDS youth who are developing their own lifestyle, one not depicted in movies and records but one with a higher adventure.
Among them are some youth with real spiritual courage who contact a bishop to confess. These are the genuine heros who internalize the gospel. Instead of living behind a facade of acceptability, they choose to bare their soul to a judge in Israel. Anyone who has occupied that judgment seat is awed by the courage and integrity of those young Church members who take the scriptural admonition literally: “By this you may know if a man repenteth of his sins—behold, he will confess them and forsake them.” (D&C 58:43.)
In that vista of virtue, there are many who choose to develop their own courtship style instead of adopting the romanticized recreation that is loudly flaunted by the male-conquest approach. One such elder confided: “At first she was afraid, but when she discovered I would not take advantage of her, she developed a trust in me. What scares me is that now she trusts me too much. I could damage that sacred trust, so my challenge is to protect her from me. That is why I have to be the one who is in control instead of depending on her to resist.”
These are only a sample of the youth on several continents. You have undoubtedly felt their spirit too—in different places and with different actions. Not all achieve this level of internal growth, nor do even the best maintain such spirituality at all times. But this possibility of self-mastery plus positive virtue is achievable. It is often found powerfully in those under 18. You can strive for it without apology.
You must realize that such spiritual achievement does not immunize one from difficulties or doubt. Nor will it endow you with unearned talent. But it brings you an eternal perspective for our times. It will help you perceive the essence of the gospel life-style for a new era. Instead of despairing about the norms of society that are deteriorating and the laws that are legalizing what used to be forbidden, you will find a way to utilize the new freedom instead of allowing it to destroy the gospel environment. Whereas many of the youth of certain past centuries were controlled so they would avoid sin, you will know the heady feeling of voluntary choice; you can internalize moral restraints that will emerge more from conviction. This will be harder to sustain than the puritanical system of the past, but it will also bring more adventure to those who catch the vision.
Many will not be able to stand such freedom; they will be enticed by situation ethics, relativism, and even overt temptations. They will jump on the old-fashioned bandwagon that will be dressed in new apparel without recognizing that the arguments are crass. “Everyone is doing it,” “It’s your own life, so live it,” “It’s all right for consenting adults,” “There is a new morality that has outgrown conformity”—these are not new insights, merely new wrappings for sensualism. They will not lead to enduring the sublime joy. They will not qualify as spiritual adventure. Instead, it is positive virtue that leads to the celestial—even to knowing some of its joy right now.
There is more spiritual adventure to come than has yet passed—for those who swim upstream.

One day my sister Zaylee and I played hide-and-seek and we got stuck in the closet under the stairs. It was summer and the closet was really hot. Then the light in the closet broke, and it got really dark. Zaylee and I cried and cried for help. My mom was outside and didn’t know we were stuck in the closet. I told my sister we should kneel down and pray to Heavenly Father. We asked that someone could come find us and let us out.
After we prayed, my mom came and found us. My mom told me that she had a feeling that something wasn’t right and that she needed to come check on us. I felt happy inside. I am glad God answered my prayer.

President Hinckley wants all worthy Church members to have temple blessings. He feels bad that members who live far away cannot go to the temple often. He said that these people “make tremendous sacrifices to visit the temples. They travel for days … in cheap buses and on old boats. They save their money and do without to make it all possible.”*
He and his counselors and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles prayed to know how they could help more people participate in temple work. The prophet said that “the answer … came bright and clear.”† Heavenly Father told them to build many small temples all over the world instead of only a few large ones. President Hinckley has dedicated close to seventy temples.

As a retired couple, my parents served a mission. One of the places they served was in Amman, Jordan. The departing missionary couple took my parents on a tour of the city, showing them all the places they would need to go and how to get there in what my mother perceived as chaotic traffic. She was scared just riding in the car with the other couple and the thought of her doing it without their assistance was completely overwhelming to her. In the midst of her despair, she heard these words in her mind, “You can do it if you try.” This comforting guidance from the Holy Ghost gave her the courage to try. Not only did she serve a successful mission, but those inspired words “you can do it if you try” were reflected in the counsel she gave her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren until her passing just a few years ago.

During my years in the military, I took many classes about how to be a good leader. But the most important lessons I ever learned about leadership were from my mother, who taught me how to treat people. As she washed dishes and I dried them, we talked. She taught me to always treat people kindly and to treat them all equally. This is what it means to be a good leader—treating others kindly and honestly.

Tucked away in the Uintah Basin of eastern Utah are several small communities. Jedadiah lives in one of these friendly towns. He is a handsome, blond 11-year-old. Jeddy loves academics and is extremely interested in sports. He is excited to soon be eligible to receive the Aaronic Priesthood. Jeddy’s body cannot do the many things that he would like it to do. The cystic fibrosis that exists in his lungs makes breathing rather difficult.

Amanda, Jeddy’s big sister, is a lovely 16-year-old who displays her love for him in a host of ways. She is a source of comfort when times are difficult. She is his link to school, seeing that assignments are brought home daily. A neighbor said, “Amanda is a real heroine in her family.” She understands the significance of “go, and do thou likewise.” Jeddy only travels to Salt Lake City to go to the hospital. For a special reason he is looking forward to October general conference. It is a family tradition that Grandfather takes his grandsons to Salt Lake for general conference following their 12th birthday. Jeddy can hardly wait; neither can Grandpa.

Recently, a sweet 93-year-old sister joined her eternal companion on the other side of the veil. They were blessed with four devoted children. This couple shared their musical talents on thousands of occasions. Many saddened spirits were uplifted in times of mourning as these good Samaritans blended their voices in strains of hope and encouragement. Many children will feel the love of the Savior as they sing Primary songs composed by this sweet sister. As her health declined, loving children spent much time and energy and emotion in meeting her needs. A valiant daughter devoted herself to her mother’s care. They will continue to “go, and do thou likewise.”

In a mountain valley, a small community is the home of a monastery with a declining number of aging monks. A stake Relief Society president, with many other compassionate service responsibilities, regularly checks on the well-being of the monks. She is the first to deliver goodies on days when they are permissible. She cares about their welfare just as she does about the members of her stake.

Bishops regularly call upon volunteer labor to grow and process commodities to fill bishops’ storehouses. Last year, nearly 270,000 days of labor were volunteered in keeping shelves filled and available for use by bishops. Many of us have fond remembrances of our time volunteering on welfare projects. I can still hear a farm manager’s cries of anguish as he observed the damage done to several acres of sugar beets because we had mistaken newly emerging beet plants for weeds. The blessings we received for our service turned out to be a “Scotch blessing.”

President Monson said, “We have a responsibility to extend help as well as hope to the hungry, to the homeless, and to the downtrodden both at home and abroad” (in Conference Report, Apr. 1990, 3; or Ensign, May 1990, 4).

Picture a small, one-room apartment which is home for a family of six. The room is dirty and cluttered. The family has not been to church in years.

As the ward welfare committee discussed the family’s needs, there was a feeling of discouragement, for bishops, over the years, had helped the family often. In the discussion, a new idea began to dawn. Perhaps, if the committee called upon the resources of the Lord’s storehouse—the talents and skills of ward members—even this difficult situation could be assisted.

The committee first focused on future possibilities as well as immediate needs. As possibilities turned to reality, hope and optimism replaced gloom and depression. Filled with hope, the family committed to help improve their own situation. The committee also went to work. A hairstylist gave the family haircuts. A dentist volunteered, and for the first time in years, a mother was not embarrassed to smile. A new pair of glasses allowed this mother to once again read to her children. A financial specialist worked with the family in budgeting their funds. A three-year-old received much needed physical therapy.

Slowly the family began to believe their life could be different. The apartment, once dirty and disorganized, began to show signs of order and cleanliness. Curtains went up on the windows. Just a year later, invitations were extended by this family to an open house for their three-bedroom home.

A wounded family was found by the side of the road, a family suffering just as much as the traveler from Jerusalem in Jesus’ day. The family’s cries were heard, and their wounds were bound. The modern good Samaritans followed the divine injunction to “go, and do thou likewise.” Spiritual lives were also rescued. Today, this family is active in the Church and preparing to receive the blessings of the temple.

Sister Batson, our Blazer leader, was preparing us to become deacons. She faithfully took us on monthly hikes. One hike was down a dry desert wash toward Lake Mead. Sister Batson stayed with the stragglers while five or six of us forged ahead. We were quite a distance ahead when we heard something. It was a baby rattlesnake, coiled and ready to strike. Rather than giving it plenty of room, we found some sticks and began poking at it. The snake took off across the desert. Naturally we took off after it, running as fast as our legs would carry us, chasing that snake. We cornered it against the side of a gulch where it coiled with its one rattle making as much noise as it could. We formed a semicircle around the snake, and on the count of three, we rushed it.
The first guy in and at the bottom of the pile was Malcolm. Suddenly he exploded out of the pile, throwing us everywhere, and started a panic run across the desert with the snake attached to his hand. We took off after him and succeeded in ankle tackling him. He was screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs, “I’m going to die! I’m going to die!”
We each took a leg and arm to pin him down so we could save his life. We then took out our trusty snakebite kits (which aren’t at all like the ones used today and not to be recommended). They consisted of several suction cups, a shoestring tourniquet, some antibacterial iodine, and a razor blade. The shoestring tourniquet didn’t seem big enough, so we whipped off our Scout belts and placed half a dozen tourniquets up his arm. We then stained his arm brown with the iodine. We decided that the suction cups were not good enough, and we would have to suck the poison out. We were arguing about who got to do the sucking and who got to cut him when Sister Batson arrived. She grabbed Malcolm, threw him over her shoulder, ran back to the van with us right behind her, and got Malcolm to the hospital in time to save his hand.
By the time I got home, my father had found out what happened. He took me to my room, sat me on the end of the bed, and said three words of profound meaning, “Son,” he said, “DON’T CHASE SNAKES!”

Work was also progressing on a model Samoan village to commemorate President McKay’s 1921 visit and his apostolic blessing on Sauniatu. A special chief’s house was built and named the McKay house. After it was built, it seemed bare, and so the young people went to the forests and cut teak logs. Getting each log was a big project. After finding a good tree in the forest, they had to cut it. Then each one had to be trimmed and winched onto a trailer and taken to a sawmill. After the log was sawn, a native craftsman began carving a Samoan folk legend on it. It took many months to get the log and make the carvings. The money to pay for the first few carvings had been donated by Sauniatu missionaries or others who were impressed with the vitality of the people at Sauniatu, but the young people earned the money to pay for most of the 20 carvings. They transplanted a special river grass to the swampy areas of land. By hand, they put starts of this pasture grass in acre after acre of the swampy land, and in return they were paid in cattle, which they sold to pay for the carvings.
When the carvings were completed, Brother Kamauoha asked the carver to do a bust of President McKay. The pictures that he gave the carver to work from were all of President McKay in his later years. When Brother Kamauoha went back to pick up the bust, the carver was frustrated and related the following story.
“Ed, I am going to tell you something. This is the first time in my life that I haven’t been able to carve what I wanted to carve. Normally, I can do anything, but somehow when I worked on this man, I couldn’t control my hands. As you can see, the carving is not like your finished pictures.”
Brother Kamauoha took the carving back to Sauniatu that evening. “The sun was just setting, and I hurried into the McKay house and put the carving on the pedestal we had prepared for it,” he said. “An old Samoan who had lived most of his life at Sauniatu was there, and I asked him how he liked the bust of President McKay. I stood back and looked at it, and this old man didn’t answer me. And so I turned around and asked him, ‘What is wrong? Don’t you like the carving?’ Then as I looked at him, I could see the tears running down his face. And he said to me, ‘You know, I was here when [President] McKay left his blessing. That is how he looked when he came here in 1921!’
“On another occasion, the carver told me, and remember he was not a Mormon, ‘Ed,’ he said, ‘with all sincerity I am telling you, this carving is not my work, it is not your work, but it is the Lord’s work’.”

That was on December 15, 1981. Diane spent that Christmas and the next five months in the hospital, trying to comprehend a life without gymnastics. After so many years of loving the sport, it was difficult for Diane to adjust.
“I hated being in the hospital, and I felt like I was in prison,” says Diane. For one month of the five she was in the hospital, she was in traction and couldn’t move at all except when the nurses came in and turned her a few inches every two hours. Diane had no idea she’d be in the hospital for so long. “In fact, when I was first injured I thought for sure that in a month I’d be back on the tour and back in shape. I thought, ‘If I have enough faith and believe in God and in myself, I’ll be okay.’ And I just knew it.”
Recovery wasn’t quite so easy though, and things seemed to get worse. “I was a horrible patient,” says Diane. “In the hospital I was really miserable because I was so stir-crazy. I was really impatient with people.” Finally Diane came to a turning point.
“Near the end of my traction one day I was in the depths of despair. I just felt like I couldn’t bear it anymore,” Diane says. She asked for a blessing. She knew the power to heal her was present, “but I only wanted that to happen if it was Heavenly Father’s will. I had this blessing and I felt the greatest sense of peace. It was like I knew that no matter what happened it would be okay. If I didn’t walk away from the hospital there would be a reason for it. I knew that I had always tried my best to live the gospel and do what I was supposed to do, so if anybody was worthy to have that blessing, I was. But from that point on I was a different person. I was totally comforted.”

“I remember one experience I had as a little boy that had to do with my going to the grocery store. When I came back, I was eating an apple. Mother asked me where I got the apple. I said, ‘I found it.’ She asked where I found it, and I said, ‘At the store.’ She said, ‘You found it before it got lost.’ I had partly eaten the apple, but she made me take it back anyway. I can still remember crying all the way to the store. Mr. Goddard, who ran the store, said, ‘I saw you take it, but I didn’t say anything because I knew your mother would make you bring it back.’ I have thought of that experience many times and know that I learned the true value of honesty through that incident.

The heart of an 11-year-old boy was turned to his fathers during a family home evening when the children assembled personal books of remembrance. Young Jeff wanted to accompany his mother to the National Archives. She was afraid he might disturb the other researchers there. But he persisted, and she relented and took him with her. Four hours into their research, he exclaimed, “Mama, I’ve found Grandpa!” Indeed, he had found his great-great-great-grandfather. However, it doesn’t always work that way. In a letter to the Family History Department, someone wrote: “We lost our grandmother. Will you please send us a copy?”

Johnny Abbott marched down the sidewalk with his fists clenched and a scowl on his face.
“My goodness, Johnny!” Mr. Pierpoint, the grocer, exclaimed. “What are you so mad about?”
“I’m looking for somebody. I’m looking for that boy who always gets me into trouble,” Johnny replied.
Mr. Pierpoint nodded. “I think I know the one you mean. Isn’t he the boy who made you take an apple from my fruit stand last week?”
“That’s right,” Johnny said. “He got me into trouble at school again today too. I’m looking for him!”
“Well, I hope you find him,” Mr. Pierpoint called as Johnny hurried on.
Johnny was walking so fast that he almost ran right into Mrs. Wiggins as she was coming out of the bakery.
“Slow down, Johnny!” she told him. “Why are you in such a hurry?”
“I’m looking for somebody,” Johnny explained. “I’m looking for that boy who always gets me into trouble.”
Mrs. Wiggins thought for a moment and then she said, “I think I know the boy you’re talking about. Isn’t he the one who made you push over my trash barrel yesterday?”
“I’m afraid so,” Johnny answered. “And it was his fault that I had to stay after school too. I have to keep looking for him. Goodbye, Mrs. Wiggins.”
Susie Whitaker was playing with her dolls when Johnny walked by.
“Hello, Johnny,” she called. “You don’t look very happy today.”
“I’m not,” he told her. “I’m looking for that boy who always gets me into trouble. I’m mad at him!”
“Oh, I know who you mean,” Susie answered. “He’s the boy who made you tease my kitten and pull her tail.”
“That’s the one,” Johnny agreed. “He kept me from playing any games at school today too. I had to sit on the bench. I’m looking for him!”
“Keep looking!” Susie encouraged.
Johnny went faster. He almost tripped over Mr. Ramsey’s garden hose lying across the sidewalk.
“Sorry, Johnny,” Mr. Ramsey said. “Let me get this hose off the sidewalk before someone has an accident. What’s your hurry?”
“I’m looking for somebody. I’m looking for that boy who always gets me into trouble,” Johnny replied.
“Is he the same one who made you tie knots in my hose one day?” Mr. Ramsey asked.
Johnny nodded. “Yes, that’s the one! That’s why I’m looking for him. I’m tired of getting into trouble.”
“I don’t blame you,” Mr. Ramsey said.
Johnny’s mother was ironing when he walked into his house. “Why, Johnny, what’s wrong?” she asked.
“I’ve been looking for somebody and I haven’t found him,” Johnny replied.
“Who is it?” his mother questioned.
“That boy who always gets me into trouble,” Johnny explained.
“Oh, is he the boy who sometimes makes you leave your bed unmade and your clothes lying around your room and all that sort of thing?” Mother inquired.
“Yes,” Johnny answered. “And I’m looking for him.”
“And just what are you going to tell him when you find him?” his mother asked.
“I’m going to look him straight in the eye and tell him I’m tired of getting into trouble!” Johnny replied.
“Do you really want to find that boy?” Mother asked.
“Yes!” Johnny answered. “I really do!”
“Good,” she smiled. “He’s here right now. Come with me and you can talk to him.”
Johnny followed her into the bedroom. “Where is he?” he asked. “I don’t see him.”
“You will,” she promised. “Stand on this chair.”
Johnny climbed up on the chair that his mother had placed in front of her dresser mirror. He found himself face to face with a boy just his size, one with red hair, freckles, blue eyes, a missing tooth, blue pants, and a striped shirt.
It was the very boy he had been looking for!
“Now I’m going back to my ironing,” Mother said. “You may stay here and talk as long as you want.”
And that’s just what Johnny did. He told the boy how tired he was of getting into trouble.
“I don’t like you when you do that!” Johnny exclaimed. “And I’m not going to listen to your ideas anymore!”
Then Johnny jumped down from the chair, and the boy in the mirror suddenly disappeared.

During the Great Depression, Harold B. Lee, serving then as a stake president, was asked by the Brethren to find an answer to the oppressive poverty, sorrow, and hunger that were so widespread across the world at that time. He struggled to find a solution and took the matter to the Lord and asked, “What kind of an organization will we have … to do this?”

And “it was as though the Lord had said [to him]: ‘Look, son. You don’t need any other organization. I have given you the greatest organization there is on the face of the earth. Nothing is greater than the priesthood organization. All in the world you need to do is to put the priesthood to work. That’s all.’”12

On February 19, 2019, Elder Ulisses Soares of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and his wife, Rosana Fernandes, arrived on the island of Curaçao. He was also accompanied by Elder Walter F. Gonzalez of the Quorum of the Seventy. Elder Soares used the opportunity to meet with the missionaries serving in Aruba, Bonaire and Curaçao.
Meeting with missionaries on February 20, Elder Soares took the opportunity to remind them of their purpose as missionaries and about the importance of their service to the people. This meeting was also broadcast to the missionaries serving in Guyana and Suriname.
Later, Elder Soares presided over a meeting with 109 members in Curaçao. This meeting took place at the chapel in Mahaai, where the only branch is located. This was a historic event for most of the members, being the first time that a member of the Quorum of the Twelve has visited this island.
During this meeting, two pioneer members shared their testimonies. Sister Ingeborg Zielinski Reni, who was the first member of the church on the island, shared her story about her involvement in the missionary efforts on the island. Sister Yvonne Antersijn also shared her experiences as the first native woman to be baptized on the island.
Elder Gonzalez told the members to consider using The Book of Mormon not only for their own life purpose, but also for the lives of others.
Elder Soares recounted Sister Zielinski’s dream where a temple was constructed on the island of Curaçao. He said: “The way President Nelson is announcing new temples makes me think that this may not be a dream. There will be a day where the Lord shall tell President Nelson to construct a temple on the island of Curacao, but you need to do your part and be faithful. The door will open, and the message will penetrate the hearts of the inhabitants of Curaçao. A miracle will happen in front of your eyes.”

Let me share with you how some "sports-nuts" transform their addictions into wonderful service opportunities. One of our employees at BYU-Hawaii, a brilliant athlete in his day, loves BYU-Hawaii basketball. He shows up before the lights are on, tingling with anticipation. He told a congregation recently how his joy in basketball has increased by the companions he keeps at the games.

One night he brought with him an elderly man from an assisted living center next door. The man hadn't been out at night for years. My friend said, "My elderly companion was absolutely mesmerized by the lights, the crowds, the excitement. I became excited myself. I bought him popcorn. At half time I went down to the athletic director and secured a BYU-Hawaii t-shirt and presented it to my elderly friend. He was so thrilled that he pulled off his shirt right down to the skin and put on his BYU-Hawaii Seasiders t-shirt." The punch line to my friend's address was, "In all my life I have never enjoyed a basketball game so much."

Wilford Woodruff, as President of the Church, described his experience in the offices of the priesthood:
“I heard the first sermon I ever heard in this Church. The next day I was baptized. … I was ordained a Teacher. My mission immediately commenced. … I went through that whole mission as a Teacher. … At the conference I was ordained a Priest. … After I was ordained a Priest I was sent … on a mission to the southern country. That was in the fall of 1834. I had a companion with me, and we started out without purse and scrip. I traveled alone a good many miles and preached the Gospel, and I baptized a number that I could not confirm in the Church, because I was only a Priest. … I traveled some time preaching the Gospel before I was ordained an Elder. …
“[Now] I have been some fifty-four years a member of the Twelve Apostles. I have traveled with that and other quorums now for sixty years; and I want to say to this assembly that I was just as much sustained by the power of God while holding the office of a Teacher, and especially while officiating in the vineyard as a Priest, as I ever was as an Apostle. There is no difference in this so long as we do our duty.”