Gospel Story Finder

It’s Sunday, time for sacrament meeting, but nobody at your house wants to go except you. What do you do? If you’re Ricardo Navas Ruiz of Los Jardines Ward, Trujillo Peru Primavera Stake, you put on your shirt and tie and walk to church on your own. In fact, you get there a little bit early so you can help the bishop get ready for the meetings.
“I’m very happy to be a deacon here in Trujillo,” says Ricardo. “To hold the priesthood really means a lot to me.”
Ricardo, who is now one of only three deacons in his ward, faithfully walked to church every week by himself for three years. Most of his family were members of the Church when Ricardo was two years old, but by the time he was around seven, they were no longer interested in attending. That didn’t change Ricardo’s desire to go to church.
“I wanted to prepare to be baptized. I wanted to feel the Spirit and leave everything else behind,” he says. “My greatest desire is to be a missionary, which is one of the reasons I keep coming to church.”
No longer does Ricardo walk to church alone. Now every Sunday he puts on his shirt and tie, takes his grandmother by the hand, and they walk together. Who knows? In time, Ricardo will probably be leading others to church with him.

(Jill) In our lives, we have been asked to make sacrifices and in every incident, the sacrifice turned out to be a great blessing. Nearly 20 years ago, my husband's employer asked him if he would be willing to move to Brazil for 3 years to help direct Ford Motor Company's Operations in that part of the world. This was an invitation to leave our comfort zone and make the sacrifice to move to a new country, learn a new language, and experience a new culture. Our seven children also had to sacrifice. Our oldest daughter was 16 years old, a junior in high school and very involved in music and drama. Our son was a member of the high school football team with great prospects for a bright future in high school sports. Feeling inspired to accept the offer; we took that leap of faith.
(Greg) Many of you have done this same thing:you have left your family and homes to study at BYU Hawaii. In our case, this sacrifice resulted in learning a new language, learning about a new culture and learning to love the Brazilian people. We also made many new friends who we continue to keep in contact with through the years. Our children had even greater opportunities in music, drama, sports and other extra- curricular classes. At the end of our Ford experience we were called to preside over a mission in Recife, Brazil which brought new spiritual growth to our family. As the hymn "Praise to the Man" states, "Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven." We can truly attest to that fact.

William knew there would be weight restrictions on baggage, so he packed the cloth traveling bag accordingly. There was only room for necessary items. He lifted it, walked a little with it clutched in his right hand, then set it down, and after a moment’s pause, slowly removed the concertina, carefully placing it back on the shelf near his mother’s small pump organ. He would miss playing it, but he would send for it once he got settled. He would miss a lot of things, especially family singing time in the evenings before the babies were put to bed. The singing served as an elixir, soothing, refreshing, and calming everyone’s spirits, preparing them for a night’s rest from the duties of the day.
He checked the remainder of the bag’s contents to see if anything else could be removed. No, he would need the two changes of clothing, one light weight and the other heavy. The hand-me-down boots his father had given him must stay. “They’ll be good for walking, William. Good support for the ankles.” William knew his father felt badly because he could not afford to buy his son a new pair of boots. No matter. He would have to stuff the toes a little with cotton, but they would serve their purpose—again. He knew they had once belonged to an anonymous foot soldier, deceased no doubt, of the British Royal Army in which his grandfather had been a cavalryman.
The pen and paper were indispensable. They would be used for recording the events of the journey and for an occasional letter home.
Surely the bottle of homemade, all-purpose healing salve would be useful for sunburned skin or blisters on the feet. Then there was the small amount of money his mother had tenderly wrapped in a handkerchief, money in addition to his passage that the family would “glady do without in order to help our son get to America, to Zion,” she had said. He wanted to give the money back to her, but he knew she had saved it for this very purpose and would not have it any other way.
In the bottom of the bag there was a musical instrument resembling the fife or flute. It looked very much like the kind the soldiers in George Washington’s army had played while marching to and from battle. It is not known when or how he obtained the tin whistle, a very inexpensive, shrill sounding instrument, but it is known that William could play it very well. It, too, was a necessary item.
The early morning mist was heavy, as were the thoughts on his mind, that 23rd day of May in 1866 when William Moroni Blair, 15-year-old son of Isaac and Ruth Suddery Blair, boarded the sailing ship bound for America.
He watched from his position near the ship’s railing as the families and friends of some of the other 349 passengers gathered at dockside to bid their farewells. He looked from face to face of his loved ones, giving his eyes plenty of time to capture the departure scene for permanent recording in his mind. He saw his mother blow him a kiss and then bury her face in the coat sleeve of his father who was holding fast to the wiggling five-year-old twins, Ruth and Isaac. Baby Albert, wrapped snugly in a woolen shawl crocheted by his mother, was too tiny to notice anything. But William noticed how tightly he was being pressed to his mother’s bosom. Three-year-old Rosa, wide-eyed and especially quiet this morning, was perched high up in Samuel’s arms. She didn’t really understand all that was going on. Samuel would soon be 14 and was the second oldest in the family. He must now assume the role of the oldest. William suspected thoughts of envy and relief were passing through Samuel’s mind simultaneously, for had he been the firstborn, he would now be the one waiting to sail.
William reflected on last evening’s events when Rosalie, 12, and Henry, 10, had quietly slipped through the curtained doorway of the room he shared with Samuel. Assuming correctly that he would not yet be asleep, they sat upon his bed. It was Henry who asked, “Are you afraid, Will?”
“Not really.”
Then Rosalie: “When will we see you again? Whenever I ask mother or father, they just say, ‘Someday soon.’ Will we all really get to Zion and be together again?”
William recalled his answer: “Yes, we will, someday soon.”
The following morning before light touched the sky, the Blair family knelt in their familiar places within the walls of their humble home while Father Blair led them in prayer. Special assistance was asked for on William’s behalf.
The boarding plank was up. The ship creaked and groaned as it was loosed from its hold on the pier. Last-minute instructions were issued by the captain and then relayed by the first mate to the other crew members. As wood and canvas slowly moved away from the docks at Liverpool, William mustered up his best grin and waved vigorously to his people who were doing the same amid shouts of, “Take care!” “Don’t delay in writing!” “Pray always!” and “Godspeed!” Then as the Alesto slipped into the deeper waters of the bay, someone on board began to sing “Isle of Beauty, Fare Thee Well.” Others lent their voices to the singing until the soloist was accompanied by a full choir. Music changed to silence when the “Isle of Beauty” vanished in the fog. That was to be the very last view of Old England for many of those sailing away from her shores that day. It was William’s last.

During my junior year in high school the principal asked me to run for vice president of the student body. It was a life-changing experience for me, because I had never considered such a thing before. I didn’t say yes at first, but I thought about it, and the Holy Ghost confirmed that it was the right thing for me to do. It scared me, but I ran and won the election. From that time to now, a whole different world has opened up as I gained confidence. Listening to the Holy Ghost helped me know I could become more than I had ever dreamed of becoming.

Young Spencer Kimball spent many hours helping his father on the family farm. He tramped hay, planted seeds, weeded the garden, and painted the barn and house.
And every day young Spencer milked the cows. There were no milking machines in those days, and it took him quite a while to finish this chore.
3. Spencer liked to learn. He decided to use his “milking time” to memorize many of his favorite scriptures. Neighbors often joked about those cows being the most spiritual cows in the area!
4. He memorized hymns the same way. He copied the words from Church hymns onto small pieces of paper and sang to the cows while he milked them.
5. Spencer W. Kimball learned at a young age to be dedicated to the gospel and to seek after righteousness. He was well prepared to become the twelfth President of the Church.

Another acquaintance is a lovely, well-educated woman who has been a very heavy smoker. She now tells us of a few times she even woke her husband up in the middle of the night and insisted that he go to an all-night store to get her a pack of cigarettes. This couple came in contact with the missionaries, believed their message, and joined the Church. When she knew she had to quit smoking, the woman almost immediately threw off the chains of this habit and became free of tobacco addiction.
The lady of whom I spoke was able to break the chains of a bad habit because she became committed to change. Some of the Lamanites under King Lamoni were able to break the chains of their iniquities of murder, indolence, and hatred when they were taught by Ammon. They became even more valiant than the Nephites because they became committed to righteousness.

My brother and I like to watch our grandpa’s bees. Once we followed a trail that many of them seemed to be taking and found that it led to some old cans that Grandpa had filled with water. The bees would land on pieces of wood sticking out of them and walk down to the water for a drink. And do you know how bees drink? They stick out little, long tongues and draw water up through them just like we sip lemonade through a straw.

The moment I decided to be a teacher is very clear in my mind. During World War II, I was in my early 20s and a pilot in the Air Force. I was stationed on the little island of Ie Shima. This island, a small, lonely one about as big as a postage stamp, is just off the northern tip of Okinawa.
One lonely summer evening, I sat on a cliff to watch the sun go down. I was pondering what I would do with my life after the war, if I was fortunate enough to survive. What did I want to be? It was on that night that I decided I wanted to be a teacher. I reasoned that teachers are always learning. Learning is a basic purpose of life.
I first taught seminary in 1949 in Brigham City. I had been a student in that seminary in my high school days.
There were three courses originally taught in seminary: Old Testament, New Testament, and Church History. It was my privilege to add an early-morning class on the Book of Mormon. I had returned from the war with a testimony of the Book of Mormon and an understanding of how the gift of the Holy Ghost operates.
You have been taught all of your lives about the gift of the Holy Ghost, but teaching can only go so far. You can and, in fact, you must go the rest of the way alone to discover within yourself how the Holy Ghost can be a guiding and protective influence.
For young men and young women, the process is the same. Discovering how the Holy Ghost operates in your life is the quest of a lifetime. Once you have made that discovery for yourself, you can live in enemy territory and will not be deceived or destroyed. No member of this Church—and that means each of you—will ever make a serious mistake without first being warned by the promptings of the Holy Ghost.
Sometimes when you have made a mistake, you may have said afterward, “I knew I should not have done that. It did not feel right,” or perhaps, “I knew I should have done that. I just did not have the courage to act!” Those impressions are the Holy Ghost attempting to direct you toward good or warning you away from harm.
There are certain things that you must not do if the lines of communication are to remain open. You cannot lie or cheat or steal or act immorally and have those channels remain free from disruption. Do not go where the environment resists spiritual communication.
You must learn to seek the power and direction that is available to you, and then follow that course no matter what.
First on your “to do” list, put the word prayer. Most of the time, your prayers will be silent. You can think a prayer.
You can always have a direct line of communication with your Father in Heaven. Do not allow the adversary to convince you that no one is listening on the other end. Your prayers are always heard. You are never alone!
Take care of your body. Be clean. “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16).
Read carefully the promises found in section 89 of the Doctrine and Covenants. The Word of Wisdom does not promise perfect health but that the spiritual receptors within you might be strengthened.
Stay away from tattoos and similar things which deface your body. Your body was created in God’s image.
I want to speak now in the pattern of straight talk about another matter.
We know that gender was set in the premortal world.1 “The spirit and the body are the soul of man” (D&C 88:15). This matter of gender is of great concern to the Brethren, as are all matters of morality.
A few of you may have felt or been told that you were born with troubling feelings and that you are not guilty if you act on those temptations. Doctrinally we know that if that were true, your agency would have been erased, and that cannot happen. You always have a choice to follow the promptings of the Holy Ghost and live a morally pure and chaste life, one filled with virtue.
President Gordon B. Hinckley announced the following in general conference: “People inquire about our position on those who consider themselves … gays and lesbians. My response is that we love them as sons and daughters of God. They may have certain inclinations which are powerful and which may be difficult to control. Most people have [temptations] of one kind or another at various times. If they do not act upon these inclinations, then they can go forward as do all other members of the Church. If they violate the law of chastity and the moral standards of the Church, then they are subject to the discipline of the Church, just as others are.
“We want to help … strengthen them, to assist them with their problems and to help them with their difficulties. But we cannot stand idle if they indulge in immoral activity, if they try to uphold and defend and live in a so-called same-sex marriage situation. To permit such would be to make light of the very serious and sacred foundation of God-sanctioned marriage and its very purpose, the rearing of families.”2
President Hinckley was speaking for the Church.
The first gift that Adam and Eve received was agency: “Thou mayest choose for thyself, for it is given unto thee” (Moses 3:17).
You have that same agency. Use it wisely to deny acting on any impure impulse or unholy temptation that may come into your mind. Just do not go there, and if you are already there, come back out of it. “Deny yourselves of all ungodliness” (Moroni 10:32).
Do not tamper with the life-giving powers in your body alone or with members of either gender. That is the standard of the Church, and it will not change. As you mature, there is a temptation to experiment or explore immoral activities. Do not do that!
The key word is discipline—self-discipline. The word discipline comes from the word disciple or follower. Be a disciple-follower of the Savior, and you will be safe.
One or two of you may be thinking, “I am already guilty of this or that serious mistake. It is too late for me.” It is never too late.
You have been taught at home and in seminary about the Atonement of Jesus Christ. The Atonement is like an eraser. It can wipe away guilt and the effect of whatever it is that is causing you to feel guilty.
Guilt is spiritual pain. Do not suffer from chronic pain. Get rid of it. Be done with it. Repent and, if necessary, repent again and again and again and again until you—not the enemy—are in charge of you.
Life turns out to be a succession of trials and errors. Add “repent often” to your list of things to do. This will bring you lasting peace that cannot be purchased at any earthly price. Understanding the Atonement may be the one most important truth that you can learn in your youth.
If you are associating with others who drag you down instead of building you up, stop and change company. You may be alone and lonely at times. The important question may be asked then, “When you are alone, are you in good company?”
Unwinding a habit that you have allowed to entangle you can be difficult. But the power is in you. Do not despair. The Prophet Joseph Smith taught that “all beings who have bodies have power over those who have not.”3 You can resist temptation!
It is not likely that you will ever have a personal encounter with the adversary; he does not show himself that way. But even if he came personally to you to test and tempt you, you have an advantage. You can assert your agency, and he will have to leave you alone.
You are not ordinary. You are very special. You are exceptional. How do I know that? I know that because you were born at a time and in a place where the gospel of Jesus Christ can come into your life through the teachings and activities of your home and of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It is, as the Lord Himself has said, “the only true and living church upon the face of the whole earth” (D&C 1:30).
There are other things we could add to the list, but you know what you should and should not be doing in your life. You know right and wrong and do not need to be commanded in all things.
Do not squander these years of seminary instruction. Take advantage of the great blessing you have to learn the doctrines of the Church and the teachings of the prophets. Learn that which is of most worth. It will bless you and your posterity for many generations to come.
Not many years will pass until you are married and have children, a marriage that should be sealed in the temple. Our prayer is that you will find yourself, in due time, safely settled in a family ward or branch.
Do not fear the future. Go forward with hope and faith. Remember that supernal gift of the Holy Ghost. Learn to be taught by it. Learn to seek it. Learn to live by it. Learn to pray always in the name of Jesus Christ (see 3 Nephi 18:19–20). The Spirit of the Lord will attend you, and you will be blessed.
We have deep and profound faith in you.
I bear my testimony to you—a witness that came to me in my youth. And you are no different from anyone else than I am. You have as much right to that testimony and witness as anyone. It will come to you if you earn it. I invoke the blessings of the Lord upon you—the blessings of that witness to be in your life, to guide you as you make a happy future.

The air was bitterly cold at nearly 12,000 feet as the sun sank quickly across the valley behind the mountains, and the first stars appeared. Thousands of other lights twinkled more than 7,000 feet below me as the residents of Utah Valley began dinner in their warm homes.
I was comfortable in my sleeping bag but puzzled. How could I explain the strange urge that had brought me through snow and ice to the top of Mount Timpanogos in late October? The climb had been cold and difficult. Why had I come?
I was in my second year of law school and though I was an experienced hiker, I hadn’t been in the mountains for months. The first snows of autumn blanketed the upper slopes of the mountain range, but I suddenly had the inexplicable desire to spend the night on the summit of Mount Timpanogos.
It seemed a crazy idea, but at noon I threw my camping equipment into my pack and drove up the canyon to where the mountain trail began.
Was I looking for adventure? Did I simply need a change from the routine of law school? I wasn’t sure.
There were only a few hours of daylight left when I began hiking, so I hurried along the trail through scattered trees. Soon I was climbing the steep east side of the mountain.
After I’d traveled a few kilometers, I was shocked to see another climber on the trail ahead of me. When I moved closer, I could see the hiker wasn’t a typical mountaineer. She was a middle-aged woman laboriously plodding her way toward the summit. She carried only a small pack with no night-time survival equipment.
She said she had been on the trail since morning. She proudly told me it was her first hike ever, and she was determined to reach the top.
“Don’t let your perseverance get you in trouble,” I warned her. “You’re probably not going to reach the summit before nightfall. You’d better turn back soon or you’ll have to find your way down in the dark.”
I continued past her up the trail, certain she would turn back in a few minutes. After all, she didn’t even have a sleeping bag. She could freeze to death if she were trapped on the mountain overnight.
I climbed past a lake on the mountain’s eastern shoulder and began to trudge through fresh snow at 10,000 feet. After a harrowing and exhausting traverse along the steep north slope of the peak, I was faced with an even steeper 500-foot ascent over scattered patches of snow and ice. A fall here would have ended in an uncontrolled slide down thousands of meters.
I finally finished my climb on the knife-edged ridge that was the 11,750-foot summit of Mount Timpanogos. The mountain’s sheer western face fell away at my feet, giving me an incredible view of the Utah and Salt Lake valleys.
I unrolled my sleeping bag in the small, roofed shelter that stands at the summit. The stone floor wouldn’t be too comfortable, but at least the shelter’s waist-high metal walls would keep me from rolling off the mountain.
As the sun set, the temperature began to drop rapidly. I spent a few minutes enjoying the view, then retreated to my warm sleeping bag for the night ahead.
As I slept, I heard a voice in my dreams. The voice was crying for help. The cries continued until I suddenly sat upright in my sleeping bag and realized I wasn’t dreaming. The shouts drifted up from far below, but I heard them clearly through the clear night air.
It seemed impossible, but someone—and I knew who—was wandering the icy mountainside in the darkness and cold.
I pulled on my pants and jacket and followed my flickering flashlight in the direction of the cries. I found the middle-aged woman standing in total darkness on the edge of a thousand-foot cliff.
“I got stuck on the mountain when it got dark,” she explained. She tried to appear calm, but the nervous way she spoke told me she was very frightened. “I got lost. I didn’t think it was this far to the top! I lost both my flashlights off a cliff an hour ago.”
She shivered and chattered as we stumbled back up the ridge. Her name was Jane. Her husband would still be waiting for her, she said, in their car at the foot of the trail.
Back at the shelter, I gave her my sleeping bag and told her to stay in it. She resisted at first, but shivering wildly, finally agreed. I put on all my warm clothes, wrapped Jane’s spare sweater around me, and settled in for what I correctly assumed would be one of the longest and coldest nights of my life.
I was far too cold to sleep and Jane was too excited, so we stayed awake and talked. At one point during the night I was reminded of the famed naturalist John Muir, who had once survived a night trapped on an Alaskan glacier by dancing a Scottish jig until morning. I hoped it wouldn’t get so cold that I’d have to do that.
At 4:00 A.M., with the temperature at five degrees Farenheit, we saw the flashlights of a search and rescue team 1,500 feet below us. I signalled with my flashlight, and shouted the news that Jane was okay. “We’ll be down at first light,” I yelled. “Wait for us.”
Sound carried remarkably well in the still, mountain air. Their distant “Okay!” response was easy to hear.
When the first traces of light touched the mountain, we started down the steep, icy slope. Before we reached the rescue party, Jane and I knelt together in the snow to thank our Heavenly Father that tragedy had been averted. Our prayer at 10,000 feet convinced me that the biblical promise was true: Not even a sparrow could fall to the earth without our Father’s notice, much less my new friend.
When we were finally off the mountain, Jane’s husband cried with joy and relief. He had been sure she was dead until he had seen our light early that morning. The search and rescue volunteers were similarly relieved. They said they remove the bodies of less fortunate climbers from the mountain every year.
What was I doing sleeping on top of Mount Timpanogos so late in the season? It seemed obvious to me then, as it still does to me now, that I was led there to make sure Jane got off the summit safely. I had done something right, following that irresistible urge to climb the mountain. Even at ten thousand feet, the Lord does indeed move in mysterious ways.

I have learned so much. Sometimes it seems that I’m not even the same person I used to be. I used to be afraid of anyone who was different from me. I work at the Morris Center cafeteria, and it is one of my jobs to help people with a handicap carry their trays to the tables. But I used to be so afraid of them that when I saw someone with a handicap coming, I would go to the other end of the cafeteria. One of the other workers would have to help.
One day that didn’t work. There were people with handicaps at both ends of the cafeteria. I had to help a blind boy to his table! What do I say? I thought. Should I act as if there’s nothing wrong? Well, here goes. When he asked me my name, I just about died. I forgot it, and then when I remembered, I said it in a cracked voice.
That’s the way people acted, even close friends, when they found out I had cancer! What do I say? Will she start crying? Everyone either went the long way around, or they acted like nothing was wrong. They would forget that I am a person. Sometimes it was funny, especially if they thought my illness was contagious, but mostly it just hurt. I don’t want to be treated any differently from anyone else.
I began to understand how handicapped people must feel. There is a guy named Skip in my psychology class. He is blind. Everyone used to take the long way around him. One day I sat next to him. He said hello and put his hand out. I gave him mine and said, “Hi, I’m Karen.”
Now there are a lot of people who sit by Skip. He’s a great guy. He likes to tell blind jokes, like “Don’t leave me in the dark.” Or he will tell us about the blind date that he had over the weekend. I’ve missed out on so much because I’ve been afraid or because I didn’t take the time to understand.

After moving to Nauvoo, Illinois, Joseph and Emma Smith built the Red Brick Store. It served as Joseph’s office and as a business to support his family.
I’ll take 20 pounds of flour, Emma.
Do you need anything else?
James had recently moved from England to Nauvoo with his sister and her husband, Henry. James was not a member of the Church.
We’ve searched for work all day, Henry. I don’t think we’re going to find anything.
Let’s ask the Prophet for help.
James had never met Joseph Smith or been near him before. He felt an overwhelming spirit just by looking at him.
He is truly a prophet of the Most High God.
Brethren, how can I help you today?
Mr. Smith, have you any employment?
Can you make a ditch?
We’ll do our best.
Joseph took the men a little way from the store and stretched out a measuring tape.
Can you make a ditch three feet wide and two and a half feet deep along this line?
When they finished the ditch, they called Joseph out to inspect it.
I could not have done better myself. Come with me.
Joseph gave the men two of his largest and best pieces of meat and two sacks of flour.
This is too much, Joseph.
We’ll do more work for it.
If you are satisfied, boys, I am.
Because of this encounter with the Prophet’s kindness and because of other experiences in which he felt Joseph’s power from God, James learned the gospel and was baptized and confirmed later that year.

One illustration of the difficulty of translation that might be appropriate occurred in a non-Church setting, but I think you can appreciate this. It was a meeting in Vienna, Austria, between Krushchev and President Kennedy. During the course of this meeting, through interpreters, President Kennedy was stressing the fact that Mr. Krushchev of Russia should not miscalculate the American will. As President Kennedy would stress, “Don’t miscalculate our will,” Mr. Khrushchev would flush and would respond rather negatively. At the end of the conference, President Kennedy was not satisfied with the progress that had been made, and so they went back through the interpretation script to find out what might have happened. It occurred to them, as they reviewed what had occurred, that the person who had done the interpreting from English into Russian had interpreted the term miscalculate as “You dumbbell, you could not add two and two and get four.”

We must be very careful not to translate just word to word, but it must be feeling to feeling.

Historian T. Edgar Lyon once retold a story he heard as a boy from an old man who had lived in Nauvoo who was living then in his ward. This old man said that as a boy he and another teenager got into mischief at a nearby farm. The irate farmer had them arrested. The judge sentenced them to jail. The boy’s father asked Joseph Smith to intercede. The Prophet, with memories of his own bitter jail experiences still fresh, asked the judge to release the boys into his custody for six months. Joseph then put the two boys to work hauling stone chips and gravel to improve Nauvoo’s holey streets. The boys received fifty cents a day, out of which they paid the farmer for damages and the court for trial costs. This brother confessed that “that was the greatest training I ever had not to wantonly or willfully destroy property belonging to another,” and that “it was the best training to work consistently and earn an honest day’s pay I ever had.”

My first job after college graduation was in an office at BYU in Provo. Because I had worked in this office earlier as a student employee, when the director of the office retired, the new director offered me a full-time role. She felt I had skills that complemented hers. I accepted not because I was interested in a career in this field, but because she needed the help and with our second child on the way, I needed health insurance! I committed to remain only one year.

Six years later, I was still trying to secure my next job. I networked like crazy, earned two master's degrees, took people to lunch, and if they didn’t have time for lunch, I took them to breakfast. I was doing everything I could think of, but I couldn’t seem to get a job in a field other than the one I was in – and didn’t want to be in. I remember being so frustrated and discouraged that I thought “this is what it feels like to be without hope – or to feel hopeless.”

And then hope arrived. A friend told me about a position at a software company where he worked. The role seemed like everything I had hoped for and aligned well with my education and experience.

After eight sets of interviews and several weeks, I was informed I would not get an offer. I was extremely disappointed and wondered why God had not answered my desperate pleas. This job had seemed so perfect for our needs. Shortly after this, our fifth child was born.

When Amanda was a month old, we learned that she had a rare kidney disease. She was life-flighted from the hospital in Provo to Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City (an hour’s drive from our home). She spent the next month in the hospital before we were able to bring her home. We did home health care for about a month hoping she could grow enough to receive a kidney transplant.

During Amanda’s time in the hospital, Laurie rarely left her side. Laurie’s parents moved in with us to help with the other children so I could continue to work and spend some time at the hospital as well. Neighbors and friends were extremely kind to us. Anne Schroeder, my boss at BYU, offered her extra car so I could travel between work, home, and the hospital since Laurie was using our only vehicle.

This time with Amanda turned out to be precious as she passed away a couple of months later at the age of three months.

About a year later, I learned that the software company had decided to eliminate the job that I had so desperately wanted. Although the person who was hired had worked hard and spent a lot of extra time and energy to be successful, the company decided to go a different direction organizationally and he was laid off.

As I reflected on this, I realized that the job I had prayed so hard for and thought to be a blessing denied, turned out to be just the opposite. Instead, it was a huge blessing that I had remained employed at BYU.

Not only did I avoid losing my job, but if I had been hired, my need to learn a new job and perform well to prove myself would have demanded a lot of my time and energy. I would not have been able to spend as much time at the hospital and at home as I did and even if I could spare the time off, I would not have accumulated much vacation or sick leave at the new company. I would not have had access to a free second car, making those trips to the hospital even more unlikely. I would not have had the wonderful health insurance that paid for nearly all of the hundreds of thousands of dollars Amanda’s health care required. And BYU was a much more understanding employer than this software company would have been to me as a new, unproven employee.

I thought of Matthew 7:“Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone?Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent?If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?” [15]

In my case, I thought I was asking for bread and God had given me a stone. In reality, I had been pleading for what God knew was a stone, and He was intent on giving me bread. I wanted a different job, but He in His wisdom, knew what was coming and kept me in a place where I had the blessings I needed at the time I needed them. Remaining employed at BYU also opened doors that eventually led to my invitation to come to BYU–Hawaii.

When we joined the Church as a young married couple, we were inspired by the example of our Church leaders who had obviously committed themselves totally to serving the Lord. During the next ten years my wife and I each held three or four callings simultaneously while two more children joined the two we already had.
I vaguely noticed that we almost never talked about anything but family or household business. Increasingly, I left decisions about the children to her while I merely mumbled ratification or voiced an occasional objection. I even turned most of the responsibility for having family home evening over to my wife. By neglecting my responsibilities as a father, I was increasing her burden as a mother; and I was doing very little as a husband to strengthen her in her mother’s role.
What woke me up was a tape of a speech by Elder Paul H. Dunn, where he suggested among other things, that the husband should not always be the only source of information on scriptural, ecclesiastical, or academic questions; the wife should have time and encouragement to do her own research, increase her own knowledge, and sharpen her own learning skills.
I remember feeling surprised when I recalled how often I prayed that our children would reach their full potential in the gospel and in their secular pursuits, but I had never prayed for the same blessing for my wife. I also realized that I tended to arrange time for my own hobbies and entertainment because it was important for me to have a variety of activities but I wasn’t applying the same principles and guidelines for my wife’s life.
After a lot of thought about this and related matters, I went to the Lord in prayer. Part of the answer was in a new insight into Matthew 19:5–6, where it refers to the husband and wife as “no more twain, but one.” I saw the husband and wife endeavoring to achieve perfection together. If part of that body is starving, then the whole body suffers.
Humbled, I went home to share my discovery with my wife and suggest that she take time to do or study or learn or practice something she would like to do. She initially refused to consider the idea. She thought she already had so many important responsibilities that she wouldn’t have time for interests outside the home. We discussed and prayed about it. A week later she decided with some reservations to enroll in an evening institute course on the Pearl of Great Price.
Any misgivings soon changed. Often she returned from class bubbling with excitement, eager to share a newly learned principle or to discuss the stimulating lessons. We began to have something to talk about besides work and the children. Taking care of the children that one evening weekly for a few weeks gave me increased appreciation for her contribution in the home—and let me renew lost contacts with our children. They sensed the differences in her and looked forward to hearing about her class too. The happiness was contagious.
Later, from time to time, she took correspondence courses on other subjects and finally mustered up the courage for a dream she had cherished for years—art classes. I wondered that, in over two decades of marriage, I had missed this important part of her, and was proud to see her art talent develop. She blossomed in confidence and our relationship was enriched and bettered, and our awareness of each other strengthened.

Many of the students said they became involved with Adopt-a-Grandparent in about the same way Sharon Pritchett of Atlanta, Georgia, did. “Julie had been praying about finding people who wanted to get involved, and I had been feeling lonely and praying for ways to get to know new people,” Sharon said. The two met on their way to a religion class they had together, and after class Julie invited Sharon to a staff meeting the same day. Soon Sharon was publicity chairman for AAG.

The volunteers also said they felt their leaders had been inspired in matching them with particular elderly participants. “The Lord guides us a lot in what we do,” Julie said. “You wouldn’t believe the backgrounds of these people,” another supervisor added. “One man used to catch broncs by the tail and then train them. Another was born in Czechoslovakia and was a concert pianist. Now he’s paralyzed in one hand, but he still plays. His name is Rudy.” The supervisor also said it’s a goal of the program to place volunteers and participants with similar interests together. One fellow watches football games each Saturday with the gentlemen from a rest home. A young lady is learning how to crochet. Others work on sewing, knitting, and lapidary (making jewelry from rocks) projects with their elderly friends.

Kathleen Koch, of Carbondale, Illinois, often discusses genealogy with Alberta Campbell, her special friend. They spent one day together watching a general conference session, eating lunch, and visiting with Sister Campbell’s friends in other rooms of the convalescent center.

“My friend has been to college. Even more important, she doesn’t want to be treated like a baby,” Karen Critchfield of Los Altos, California, said. “We were both nervous to start with, but now we confide in one another.”

Besides visiting their elderly friends, the students meet on their own at least once a month for a fireside and often have social gatherings. Wendy Ius of Trail, British Columbia, said fireside speakers are usually experts in social work, psychology, or human relations. The meetings help group members feel like a team, sharpen their skill in dealing with others, and provide a time for sharing ideas and experiences. A periodically published newsletter also helps to unite the group.

From time to time special activities are held at the rest home, especially on holidays. “We had a home evening a little while ago,” Karen said, “at which she (Sister Strong) bore her testimony. It was really uplifting. We had my entire home evening group out here, and she spoke about relying on the Lord.”

Linda Barr, of Brunswick, Georgia, said AAG “makes you more concerned because you find out how lonely some people are, what little joy they have, how they feel they’re not worth anything. You want to make them feel better. And it makes you feel better to think you’re important to them.”

“Just because they’re old doesn’t mean they’re not people. They’re up-to-date, not living in the ’20s. The person inside will be the same, now or later on,” Julie said.

And Sharon Wendell, of Bountiful, Utah, added, “They have lots to offer, unless people forget them.” Colette Johnson, of Boise, Idaho, commented, “It’s hard to know if I’ve changed because of the program. It was so great to start out with, how could it get any better?”

Perhaps one of the most poignant stories, however, was related by Peggy Buchanan, of Waynesboro, Virginia, as she described her first visit to the rest home: “I went to visit Edna. She was in bed and kind of sick. I had a picture of a lily mounted on matboard, with a poem on the back. I was going to read the poem and give her the picture. She didn’t respond much, so I decided to talk to her instead. I asked her if she liked flowers. She said yes and started talking a bit. She is a great lady, and she brought out something in me. I told her about my grandmother’s flowers, and she listened while I shared parts of my life with her, which was very rewarding. Then she fell asleep, and I left. Outside the door, a woman in a wheelchair asked me to pick up her blanket and tuck it in. She cuddled up and snuggled back in her chair and was happy. I got to see about five ladies that day and helped them all. As I was leaving, I went down the back hall and asked if I could visit anybody else. I started to go, when someone called out to me and said to please come in. She reached her hand out and said, ‘Please don’t leave. We love you.’”

Peggy said, “I love you, too,” and spent several more minutes chatting with the woman. As she left, Peggy knew “that lady was happy, and that it meant a lot to her to have people visit.” She also knew that despite the pressures of school, dating, and work, she had found friends and would find time to come back often.

One afternoon Milo’s father came home early. “We are going to Copenhagen, Denmark, for a few days,” he said. “Hurry and pack.”
“Oh,” said Milo excitedly, “will we go to Odense?”
“Odense,” said his father, lifting his eyebrows and looking at Mother, “now why should we go there?”
“That’s where Hans Christian Andersen lived as a boy,” Milo answered.
“You’re right,” said his mother, and Father promised he would arrange for them to visit Odense.
When Father finished his work in Copenhagen, the family took a little boat to the island of Fyn to visit Odense.
On the way, Father asked, “Milo, how many of Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales can you remember? And which one is your favorite?”
Milo did not have to think long to decide. “I’ll always remember ‘The Ugly Duckling.’”
“One of my favorites,” said Mother, “is ‘The Princess and the Pea.’”
“I’ll never forget ‘The Emperor’s Clothes,’” Father added. “What rascals those men were to deceive the emperor.”
“Oh, yes,” said Mother, “and do you remember ‘What Father Does Is Always Right’?”
The joy of the remembered reading warmed their hearts as they looked at the statue of Hans Christian Andersen and walked about Odense.
“His father was a poor shoemaker, you know,” said Milo’s father, “but he read stories and plays of another Dane, Ludwig Holberg, to Hans.”
Mother added, “And he made a puppet theater so Hans could act out the plays.”
“Time to leave now,” said Father at last, but Milo lingered one more moment to look into the face of the famous storyteller.
The last stop Father had to make was in Sweden. It was Midsummer’s Eve when Milo’s family arrived in the capital city of Stockholm. Everyone was in a holiday mood. People in gay costumes had gathered for the early festival.
“Why do they celebrate Midsummer’s Eve?” Milo asked Father.
“The people in Sweden celebrate the return of summer to their land about the middle of June each year,” Father replied.
Groups of young people were talking, laughing, and dancing. Their gay costumes were bright in the sunshine. Several boys invited Milo to join in their celebrating. He looked at Father who nodded and said, “That sounds fun, but don’t stay too long.”
“Meet us back at the inn for dinner,” called Mother.
Near the center of the green where groups were dancing there was a large pole with colored streamers hanging down from the top. The word Majstang (Maypole) was posted on a nearby tree. Soon all the dancers gathered around the pole to sing folk songs. It was a colorful sight and everyone was so happy that Milo could not help joining in with them even though he did not know many of the words.
After awhile everyone broke into small groups again and began winding the pole. In and out, over and under, went the colorful ribbons as the dancers swayed and dipped and danced to the singing.
Milo was sorry when it was over. Then he noticed how low the sun was and remembered he was to meet his parents at the inn for smorgasbord.
The smorgasbord was quite different from any Milo had eaten at home. The tables were piled high with smoked and pickled fish, tongue, sweetmeats, spiced fruits, relishes, cheeses, and various kinds of soda water.
“After dinner we’ll have to watch some of the young people start up the mountain. They climb to the top every year to welcome the sunrise,” Father explained.
Milo wished he could go with them but the family was leaving early the next morning to go home.
It had been an especially happy day for Milo. When his father and mother came in to say good-night to him, Milo tried to tell them about all the understandings he had gathered in the different countries they had visited.
“But now,” he said wistfully, “I guess all that will end when we go back home.”
“Oh no, Milo,” Father assured him. “As long as you have a sense of discovery and a desire to know more about other people, there will always be something to learn.”
Mother agreed. And then she added, “No matter where we live we can collect bits of knowledge and add to our understanding.”
Milo lay in bed thinking about the many things he had learned in the different Scandinavian countries. He would never forget his wonderful friends there.

To introduce my theme today, I want to tell you, in his own words, of a life-changing experience that happened to President George Albert Smith when he was a boy. His own words are as follows:
As a child, thirteen years of age, I went to school at the Brigham Young Academy. . . . I cannot remember much of what was said during the year that I was there, but there is one thing that I will probably never forget. . . . Dr. [Karl G.] Maeser one day stood up and said:
“Not only will you be held accountable for the things you do, but you will be held responsible for the very thoughts you think.” Being a boy, not in the habit of controlling my thoughts very much, it was quite a puzzle to me what I was to do, and it worried me. In fact, it stuck to me just like a burr. About a week or ten days after that it suddenly came to me what he meant. I could see the philosophy of it then. All at once there came to me this interpretation of what he had said: Why of course you will be held accountable for your thoughts, because when your life is completed in mortality, it will be the sum of your thoughts. That one suggestion has been a great blessing to me all my life, and it has enabled me upon many occasions to avoid thinking improperly, because I realize that I will be, when my life’s labor is complete, the product of my thoughts. [Sharing the Gospel with Others (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1948), pp. 62–63]

The reality of Aulola’s life, however, didn’t quite follow the plan in her heart. After her mission, it took some time before marriage became a priority for her, and by then she was in love with someone who didn’t share her faith.
“He’s a good man,” Aulola says. “He always welcomed [my Church’s] missionaries into our home and always fed them, but he was never interested in hearing their message.” His family are devout members of their own faith, and he would not break with their tradition. Their difference of religion put a great strain on their marriage. Aulola was unable to attend sacrament meetings as often as she liked, and she couldn’t raise their children in the Church the way she had been. Eventually, the contention in their home proved too much. After 23 years, the couple decided to part ways.
Aulola was devastated. She had lost her marriage and, with it, her hopes for the future with her family, but she was also suffering now from debilitating health issues. In her grief and pain, she turned to her Father in Heaven for guidance. “I fasted and prayed, and I promised the Lord that if He would accept me back, I would never turn away again.”
Her prayers kept leading her back to her patriarchal blessing, which brought her comfort and peace at such a troubling time. One day, she reread the promise that she could be sealed in the temple, and Aulola knew what she needed to do. “I realised that if I don’t do my part, it’s not going to work.” In that moment, she recommitted to follow all of Heavenly Father’s commandments, and to draw near to Him through church attendance, daily prayer and scripture study.
Before long, Aulola reconnected with an acquaintance from her early days in Tonga: Brother Semisi Mounga Mateialona, a priesthood holder who had recently found himself single again, too. They bonded over shared experiences and their mutual love for the gospel of Jesus Christ, and Aulola knew in her heart that this was the man for her. The couple got married in New Zealand in 2019 and at the end of September 2022, they travelled to the Nuku’alofa Tonga Temple to be sealed to each other for time and all eternity.
At a recent temple fireside in the Auckland Papatoetoe Stake, Aulola reflected on what she says is a miracle. As a young woman, she had experienced the sweet sacredness of the temple and knew how important it was to worship there. Then, for 23 years, she didn’t know if she could ever qualify for the temple blessings promised to her in her patriarchal blessing—but she didn’t give up hope.
It took time, patience and the kind of faith that changes lives, but now Aulola feels like she’s come home again. Finally, she can testify: “When you stay near God, He is going to bless you as He promised—if you do your part.”

I was born in Fiji. My parents were not members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but they went to another church.
When I grew up, I married my wife, Anita. She was a member of the Church. She kept inviting the missionaries over to meet me.
One day I told them they could come to dinner for the next three nights. I said they had to use only the Bible to answer my questions. Their answers were perfect. On the third night, they asked me a question.
“If you had a grocery store, what would you call it?”
“I would call it the Wakolo Family Grocery Store because it’s my store,” I answered.
“Who should a church be named after?” they asked.
It was a great question. And I knew the answer with my heart and soul. The true Church would be named after Jesus because it’s His Church. And The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was named after Him!
I had just one more question: “When can I be baptized?” One week later, I was.
When I was baptized, I took upon myself Jesus Christ’s name. That means I became a member of His Church and promised to follow Him. I try my best every day to live as He did. I know that this is Jesus Christ’s true Church.