Gospel Story Finder

Babe Ruth is revered in the nation’s heart as the home-run king. He was a winner, a champion in every sense of the word. But did you know that while he hit 714 homeruns, he struck out 1,330 times? He struck out almost twice as many times as he hit for the circuit.
The story is told that in the summer of 1927 at Shibe Park in Philadelphia, 35,000 baseball fans were all very busy booing one man. It was Babe Ruth. He had just struck out on three pitched balls for the second successive time. Two runners were left stranded on base.
He turned from the plate and headed for the dugout amidst the sounds of wild and abusive jeers. And before he sat down, he tipped his hat to the booing crowd with an unruffled smile.
His turn came up again in the eighth inning. This time the situation was critical. The Athletics were crowding out the Yankees, 3 to 1. The bases were loaded, and there were two out. He could win or lose the game for the Yankees, and he was going up to bat as a personal loser for the day. He selected his favorite bat and then stood at home plate facing one of baseball’s toughest pitchers. Now it all depended on him, the man who had just struck out twice, the man who had earned the insults of the crowd. The excitement was tremendous. All eyes were upon him.
The pitcher flung the first ball across the base. With all his power, Babe swung and missed. The next pitch was good, too, and Ruth swung so hard he fell over, raising a cloud of dust. It didn’t look good for him. But the third time, Ruth swung again, and this time he connected, connected with a loud explosion that sent the ball hurtling out of the park and beyond the houses across the street to make one of the longest hits in baseball history. (See Earl Nightingale, “Worth Remembering,” Our Changing World, No. 1180.)
Babe Ruth had staying power. He stayed in there when all looked lost. He didn’t become overwhelmed with his losses. He didn’t measure and remeasure again his failures. He didn’t declare himself a loser and curl up in the dugout and die. The greatest slugger kept trying, putting his heart on the line.

One morning when I was serving as a young missionary in Beaumont, Texas, my companion became ill and needed to rest. Following the counsel of our mission president for such situations, I pulled a chair up by the open window in our fourth-story apartment and began to read in the Book of Mormon.
Soon I became immersed in the scriptures, and after a time I came to Alma chapter 29, verses 1 and 2:
“O that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart, that I might go forth and speak with the trump of God, with a voice to shake the earth, and cry repentance unto every people!
“Yea, I would declare unto every soul, as with the voice of thunder, repentance and the plan of redemption, that they should repent and come unto our God, that there might not be more sorrow upon all the face of the earth.”
As I pondered on Alma’s words, they became deeply personal. My companion and I had knocked on hundreds of doors in Beaumont, offering to share our message, but with limited success. In my mind’s eye, I began to imagine what it might be like if I were an angel and could cry repentance with a voice to shake the earth. I looked out the window at the people coming and going on the street below. I imagined what it would be like if I were standing there shining like an angel, with my hands raised, speaking with a voice of thunder. I envisioned the buildings shaking and people falling to the earth. Under the circumstances I imagined, they might have a sudden desire to listen to what I had to say!
But then I read the next verse: “But behold, I am a man, and do sin in my wish; for I ought to be content with the things which the Lord hath allotted unto me” (v. 3).
I was humbled to realize the Lord loves all His children and has a plan for His work. My job was to do my part.
I was also humbled to realize something else. In that moment, I knew that what I was reading was not fiction—it was real. Quietly and peacefully while I was reading, I had been filled with light and with the realization that this Alma was an actual person, that he had lived, and that he too had deeply desired to share the gospel message with others.
If you had asked me in that moment, “Do you know this is true?” I would have replied, “Absolutely!” At that point, it became clear to me that I was receiving a spiritual witness of the truth of the Book of Mormon.
As I have reflected on that experience—and many such witnesses since—I have come to better understand how vitally important it is to receive by the Spirit. We often focus, appropriately, on the importance of teaching by the Spirit. But we need to remember that the Lord has placed equal, if not greater, importance on receiving by the Spirit. (See D&C 50:17–22.)
As I have read back over my journal entry to understand and learn more from the experience I had as a missionary, I have realized that although I had read in the Book of Mormon before, what happened in Beaumont that morning was different because I was different. As inexperienced as I was, at least on that occasion I was sincerely trying to seek and to feel, and my intent was to act in faith on what I learned. I know now that such witnesses are available to each of us on a regular basis if we will receive them.

Sometime, either before, during, or after the call, the Lord confirms to the man being called that his call is of God. One young stake president reported his confirmation this way:
“When I was interviewed, I was 32 years old and had served about four years as bishop. One of those conducting the interviews asked two poignant questions: (1) How did you gain your testimony? and (2) Would you share with us your testimony of the Savior? I shared my experience as a teenager, shortly after my mother passed away, when I learned for myself the truthfulness of the restored gospel, specifically with regard to the Book of Mormon.
“As I shared my testimony of the Savior, I received a witness that I would be called as the next stake president. I drove home and told my wife about my experience. When I told her that I thought I could be called as the next stake president, she responded, ‘You’re good, but you’re not that good.’ The phone rang two hours later, and I was invited to return with my wife, and the call was extended.”

I was born in Romania. That is a country far, far away from my home in Salt Lake City, Utah. My mother went to Romania and adopted me. She loved Romania, but she said that there was not much food there. My mom found me in a hospital. I was three months old and weighed only five pounds.
When we got to Salt Lake City, I was very sick. I couldn’t keep food in my stomach, so I was very skinny. And I had sores all over my body.
My mom kept praying that I would get better. One night, she had a vivid dream about what she was supposed to feed me. The next morning, she got up and made rice pudding and put it in the blender so she could feed it to me using a baby bottle. Not only did I eat it, but I liked it a lot.
Rice was all I would eat for six months. The sores all over my body went away, and I started gaining weight. Mom says that she knows Heavenly Father inspired her to feed me rice pudding, because she doesn’t like it and had never made it before. I’m glad Heavenly Father knew that rice pudding would help me get better. My mom calls me the Rice Pudding Baby.
Kateri Daniela Combs, age 8Salt Lake City, Utah

Ron, 16, sat in his early morning seminary class wondering what to do with feelings of discomfort that were welling up inside him. He had attended this class for about two months. His dislike seemed to grow day by day.
Ron took seminary because he knew that his parents wanted him there. He didn’t want to disappoint them. His bishop had also encouraged him to be actively involved in the program. Even so, he was unhappy and uncomfortable in class.
As Brother Jones talked about the gospel of love, Ron didn’t really listen. He could only think of the times he felt Brother Jones had put him down in class because Ron’s ideas had not seemed to agree with his. Ron also knew that some of the other class members felt this same way, but no one seemed to know what to do about it.
On the other hand, some of the members of the class seemed to be perfectly at ease and quite comfortable. Ron often wondered if something might be wrong with himself. He knew he shouldn’t judge others, but little by little his dislike for Brother Jones grew. In moments like these he felt guilty for his feelings toward his seminary teacher.
Being out of tune is usually associated with the field of music and refers to discord or the clashing of musical sounds and lack of agreement between notes in a chord. One can also be out of tune with life. In these instances it may be defined as a clashing of beliefs and attitudes. You can feel out of tune with yourself if you believe one way and behave another. Your behavior and your beliefs will lack agreement, and you will experience discomfort. In some instances we find ourselves faced with ideas, behavior, and attitudes from important people that clash with our own. Ron, the seminary student, is experiencing being out of tune. He senses discord and lack of agreement between himself and Brother Jones.
Every person attempts to put himself in situations that are in agreement with the way he feels about himself and the way others feel toward him. This reduces the uncomfortable feeling. When a person finds himself in a situation where there is disagreement between his own feelings and the feelings of others, he will often want to escape from it. Ron does not see any possible escape from the seminary class, and so he sits, feeling more and more uncomfortable. The more frustrated and confused Ron feels, the more distance he feels between himself and Brother Jones, and the more uncomfortable he is. What should he do and what are some of the possible consequences?
In life there are very few situations where an individual has only two choices. Usually if we take the time and do some thinking, we can come up with several. Some of the choices may be better than others. Ron’s is such a case. There are several ways he can move to rid himself of the discomfort he is experiencing.
He may simply drop the class or refuse to attend. By so doing he would not have to face Brother Jones and feel the discomfort every day. A social scientist would refer to this way of handling discomfort as “flight.” There are some disadvantages to this choice. Should Ron choose to drop the seminary class, he may hurt his parents by disappointing them. He may also cause some concern for the bishop, to the point that the bishop might call Ron in to find out why the change was made, thus putting another kind of pressure on him. Yet Ron can choose to drop out in spite of these consequences.
Another choice open to Ron is to rebel against Brother Jones and to act out his frustrations and feelings right in class. This method of solving problems might be referred to as a “fight” process. This choice may tend to relieve Ron of some of his discomfort, or he may have even more discomfort as a result. Such a choice might cause Brother Jones to resort to the use of power, and he might dismiss Ron from the class. Should he do this, Ron would face the same disadvantages and consequences as he did with choice number one.
As a third choice he can simply attempt to ignore the feelings he is having and to stick it out. The disadvantage here is that Ron hasn’t been able to ignore his feelings, and they are, in fact, becoming worse from day to day. If Ron chooses to do nothing, we can predict with a good deal of confidence that his attitudes toward other teachers and Church programs will become more negative. (This very real danger is illustrated in a recent study that examined some general attitudes of a group of early-morning seminary students toward the Church programs and teachers. The study indicated that if a student had some feelings of dissatisfaction in one area of the Church, these feelings tended to carry over into other areas.)
A fourth alternative to Ron’s dilemma is for him to work out a way of dealing directly with the problem so that his uncomfortable feelings will be reduced. There are several possible ways of doing this, but before discussing some of these, let’s examine some other ideas for working out problems.
When we come into contact with an idea that agrees with the way we feel, we can easily accept it. If, however, we come into contact with an idea that does not agree with the way we feel, someone needs to make some changes. We either have to change something about the idea itself or change our attitude toward it. If neither changes, we begin to feel quite uncomfortable. Ron is in this situation right now. He is very uncomfortable. If he fails to accept the situation with Brother Jones, he will remain in this uncomfortable state, and things will likely get worse. He must do something, but from what we have discussed, he is not able to drop out of the class because such an action will not solve the problem nor really relieve the source of the negative and uncomfortable feelings.
Ron’s feelings are real. His problem is real. He wants to do the right thing, but he just doesn’t know what that right thing is. He wants to be in seminary, but he finds that he is very uncomfortable there. Something has to change. In Ron’s case he can change his attitude or change the seminary teacher, or change both, but Ron should realize that it is difficult to change another person very much. Even in the face of the difficulty of changing self or another, Ron must realize his best course of action is to act.
We cannot give Ron specific solutions to his problems. We can, however, offer some suggestions. It is up to each individual to determine the direction of his personal efforts. In this case prayer would be a good first action. Ron should do as the scriptures suggest and “ask of God.”
Another suggestion that might help Ron find the comfort he is seeking is for him to express his feelings. He needs to go to the other person and there seek to solve his problem. The Savior suggested this process in his Sermon on the Mount when he told us to go to the person with whom we are having problems and to make things right with him before attempting to do other things, even though these other things need and ought to be done.
For Ron this means that perhaps he should find the opportunity to approach Brother Jones and discuss with him the feelings that are there. If this is too threatening, perhaps Ron can go to his parents and share his feelings. On the basis of their acceptance and understanding, he can then approach Brother Jones. If Ron wishes to seek further counsel, he may seek the help and understanding from his bishop or priesthood leader.
Another solution might be for Ron to take a good look at himself and see where he might possibly change his attitude and behavior. Again, the scriptures give us evidence of this type of approach. The situation is not the same, but the process can be applied in both instances. When Christ was questioned as to whether or not he was preaching his own gospel, he responded with these words: “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.” (John 7:17.) If we apply this to Ron’s situation, we are suggesting that Ron should examine his basic attitudes toward Brother Jones long enough to really attempt to gain something out of the class. He should attempt to find out what Brother Jones’s will is with respect to him as a class member. Next, Ron should attempt to do Brother Jones’s will and see if his negative feelings leave. He may well determine that the problem is due to his own attitudes and not just to the behavior of the teacher.
Another positive approach open to Ron is to attempt to determine in his own mind what is wrong with the class in general, rather than with himself or Brother Jones. Once this determination is made, he may be able to approach Brother Jones with some suggestions on how the class might be made more enjoyable for more of the students. If this choice is followed, Ron may find that he can be a real asset to the class and improve the relationship between himself and Brother Jones at the same time. If Ron were to accept this challenge, he might learn for himself the great truth found in the Savior’s words that a person can find his life by losing it in the service of others.
One thing is for certain: Ron must do something. The longer this situation is allowed to go on, the more complicated it becomes and the greater the danger that this negative attitude will carry over into other areas of his life. Ron must make a decision of some kind. Suggestions have been made for positive and constructive choices. He should make his choice(s) on the basis of his own feelings and thoughts. Once the decision is made, he should then take it to the Lord for confirmation. Such were the directions given to Oliver Cowdery in section 9 of the Doctrine and Covenants, and they can be just as applicable for us today. If this process is followed, Ron can be assured he has made the right decision, and the “I’m uncomfortable” feeling will vanish.

Valerie Wilson, 19, Coventry Ward—I had heard that there was to be some kind of flag ceremony at the entertainment, and frankly I was doubtful. I should explain that the British as a nation are known for their lack of outward emotion. A show of patriotism in any form, short of standing to honour the Queen, is just not British! It may well be that Britain’s extraordinary history of power and influence had had the effect of making the self-conscious British loath to demonstrate their love of country in front of strangers for fear of offending them, and because of this Britishers have simply lost the habit. Whatever the explanation, that night was the first time I have ever heard “Land of Hope and Glory” played just for the sake of it, and it was a glorious moment. I saw girls march proudly, carrying the familiar flags of the United Kingdom. I joined in the cheers with everyone else as we expressed, for the first time in our lives, our deep and sincere love for our country.

Being true also allows us to have a positive effect on the lives of others. I recently heard this inspiring story of a young woman who, through her commitment to be true to her beliefs, had a great impact on another young woman’s life.
Several years ago Kristi and Jenn were in the same high school choir class in Hurst, Texas. Although they didn’t know each other well, Jenn overheard Kristi talking with her friends one day about religion, their various beliefs, and favorite Bible stories. Recently, upon reconnecting with Kristi, Jenn shared this story:
“I felt sad that I didn’t know anything about what you and your friends were talking about, and so for Christmas I asked my parents for a Bible. I received the Bible, and I started reading it. This began my religious journey and my search for the true Church. … Twelve years passed. During that time I visited several churches and attended church on a regular basis but still felt that there was something more. One night I fell on my knees and begged to know what to do. That night I had a dream about you, Kristi. I hadn’t seen you since we had graduated from high school. I thought my dream was strange, but I didn’t attribute it to anything. I dreamed about you again for the next three nights. I spent time thinking about the meaning of my dreams. I remembered that you were a Mormon. I checked the Mormon website. The first thing I found was the Word of Wisdom. My mother had passed away from lung cancer two years previously. She had been a smoker, and reading about the Word of Wisdom really hit home with me. Later I was visiting my father’s house. I was sitting in his living room, and I started to pray. I asked to know where to go and what to do. At that moment a commercial for the Church came on television. I wrote down the number and called the same night. The missionaries called me three days later, asking if they could deliver a Book of Mormon to my home. I said, ‘Yes.’ I was baptized three and a half months later. Two years later I met my husband at church. We were married in the Dallas Temple. Now we are the parents of two beautiful little children.
“I wanted to thank you, Kristi. You set such a wonderful example throughout high school. You were kind and virtuous. The missionaries taught me the lessons and invited me to be baptized, but you were my third missionary. You planted a seed through your actions, and you truly have made my life better. I have an eternal family now. My children will grow up knowing the fulness of the gospel. It is the greatest blessing that any of us can be given. You helped bring that into my life.”
When I contacted her, Kristi shared: “Sometimes I think we hear the list of attributes that the thirteenth article of faith outlines, and we feel overwhelmed. However, I know that as we live these standards and strive to follow Christ’s example, we can make a difference. … I feel much like Ammon in Alma 26:3 when he says, ‘And this is the blessing which hath been bestowed upon us, that we have been made instruments in the hands of God to bring about this great work.’”

As a freshman at Brigham Young University–Idaho (then Ricks College), I missed my family. But after a few months of classes, I had settled into college life and was enjoying myself. When the telephone call came, I was in my apartment, studying.
“Christy, I have some bad news for you,” my mother said, her voice breaking. “Your father passed away tonight from a severe heart attack.”
Emotions flooded over me as I tried to comprehend what I had just heard. I had seen my father only a few days before, but I had no idea it would be for the last time. Dad’s death was a shock to our entire family; it was also a shock to my home ward. Dad was only 53 years old, and he was serving as our bishop.
The days that followed were filled with visits and phone calls from family, friends, ward members, and neighbors. We felt a tremendous outpouring of love from those around us. At Dad’s funeral, family members shared memories of our life with him, and we testified of the plan of salvation and of life after death.
Dad had been a faithful husband, a devoted Latter-day Saint, an avid Scouter, and a wonderful father. Many people were blessed because of the life he had lived. After the funeral my oldest brother dedicated the grave, and as a family we stood and sobbed through “I Am a Child of God” (Hymns, no. 301).
The day after the funeral I returned to school. I wasn’t thrilled to be back, but I knew I had to go on with life and fulfill my responsibilities. Some days were easier than others. I spent a lot of time thinking about my father, and I relied on my knowledge of the plan of salvation and my faith in Jesus Christ to help me face my challenges and questions.
About two weeks after my father passed away, I took my journal to a chapel on campus to record my feelings and the events surrounding Dad’s death. As I wrote, I felt the Spirit so strongly that I had an overwhelming assurance that my Heavenly Father loved me, that He had a plan specifically for me, and that I would never be left alone. As I finished writing, bells sounded from speakers atop the nearby student center playing the hymn “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” (Hymns, no. 136). Words from the hymn instantly came to my mind:
I know that my Redeemer lives.
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead.
He lives, my ever-living Head. …
He lives to silence all my fears.
He lives to wipe away my tears.
He lives to calm my troubled heart.
He lives all blessings to impart.
I do know that my Redeemer lives, and I know He loves me. Because He rose from the dead, I know that my father and all of our loved ones who have gone before us will also live again. What a comfort it is to know these truths.

In 2016, Jayne Kyprianou was serving in the stake Primary presidency of the Poole Stake. After hearing Elder Kearon’s April 2016 talk, “Refuge from the Storm”1, the Primary presidency wanted to do something to help refugee children who were arriving in their area.
After a lot of prayer and discussion, they ended up hosting an online auction and a cake sale. They beat their goal of raising £500, by raising almost £1,800.
The money raised was used to buy items for educational packs for the refugee children. These would be packed by stake Primary children in a forthcoming Primary conference.
During that time, the stake public affairs directors, Brother Roger Head and Sister Moira Head, began to have contact with Unity in Vision, Bournemouth, a voluntary group founded by members of ethnic minorities.
Unity in Vision was invited to attend the stake’s Primary conference, and this was the start of a great working relationship between the Church and Unity in Vision.
Following this, the stake became involved in hosting monthly lunches at Bournemouth Chapel, refugees cooking the meals and practicing their English as they did so. The lunches were open to the local community.
These lunches involved not just people from Unity in Vision, but also representatives of the Westbourne Rotary Club (a local branch of the global Rotary organisation of volunteers). Through the work of Greg Singleton, of Westbourne Rotary Club, funding and grants were awarded to help with the lunches and to put on an educational course for refugees and asylum seekers.

I learned from my wife the importance of exchanging notes. Early in our marriage I would open my scriptures to give a message and I would see an affectionate, supportive note slipped into the pages. Sometimes they were so tender that I could hardly talk. Those precious notes from a loving wife were and are a priceless treasure of comfort.

I began to do the same thing with her, not realizing how much they truly meant to her. When she passed away, I found in her private things how much she appreciated the simple messages we shared with each other. I found that she not only kept the notes, but she protected them with plastic coverings as if they were a valuable treasure. There is only one that she didn’t put with the others. It is still behind the glass of our kitchen clock. It reads, “Jeanene, it is time to tell you I love you.” It remains there to remind me constantly of that exceptional daughter of Father in Heaven.

In her final days of illness, I tried to find supporting scriptures that would help her. I put printed copies of them around the house. I found each one of those messages carefully protected as if they were very valuable. In like manner, I have kept the precious notes she has given me.

When Michael Hatch, who serves on the high council in the Farmington New Mexico Stake, was given the assignment to organize a stake day of service in response to President Eyring’s invitation, he wondered where they would find ideas for ministering to the poor in their community. He met in council with his committee, and they and other stake leaders encouraged stake members to share their ideas relating to needs in the community.
Roberta Rogers knew of a particular need among several organizations in the area—including the hospital where she works in community relations. While clothing drives usually generated helpful donations of used pants, shirts, shoes, and coats, what many charities still needed were things like socks, underwear, and pajamas—donations that needed to come new. Sister Rogers suggested that the stake organize a collection of such items.
On October 15, stake members distributed in their neighborhoods 1,000 cardstock door hangers that explained the project, invited the community to participate, and listed items needed. A week later stake members returned to collect the items and then brought them to the stake center for sorting and distribution among 10 local charitable organizations.
That combined effort met an urgent need in their community, Sister Rogers said. “It was something different, and it helped people. And because it was not really expensive, one family could spend a few dollars and really be able to help somebody.”

Even though most of my friends think I am too old to read the Friend, I still skim through it every time it arrives in the mail. The story “Bald Heads and Buddies” on page 36 in the April 2012 issue caught my eye. I have a friend who had a cancerous tumor and lost all of her hair during treatment. (She’s fine now.) Moved by your story, I photocopied it and sent it to her with a note explaining what magazine it was from and how it made me think of her. I hope to be as supportive of my friend as I help her through her struggles. Thank you for the inspiration.

The last trial that I will share with you, I vividly remember what I and my family had to bear. On March 23, 2011 at 5:30 AM, I and my family awoke to find that our house was fully engulfed in flames. After getting everyone safely out of the house, I remember standing outside with my family as we watched our home with all of our earthly possessions burn to the ground. I was so very thankful that I had beside me what was really important to me; my eternal companion and my family.

Later that morning as we took refuge under our neighbor’s mango tree, we held a family council. My married children had joined us by then, we had family prayer, thanking the Lord for our protection, and then we asked for His Spirit and guidance, and then we discussed what we needed to do. Assignments were made and we began to face our new trial. This time we were more seasoned. This time we did not ask “why me Lord?” We already knew from facing other trials in our lives that the Lord was ready to bless us if we endured this trial well, if we walked by faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.

My stake president, President Shumway and his counselors came by to give me a priesthood blessing of comfort. A blessing that gave to me clarity of what I needed to do to take care of and provide for my family in this time of trial in our lives.

At the time I was serving in the BYU–Hawaii Married Student Stake Presidency. Our neighbors, ward members, friends, and members from the student stakes rushed to our side to assist us. The fire left us with nothing but the clothes on our backs.

One ward member and friends put us into their business rental. It was not easy to find a place that could house the nine members of my family that were displaced by the fire. Another ward member called to get the garment sizes of all of the endowed members of my family, she then went and purchased the temple garments and brought them to us. Another ward member came by and dropped off pillows, sheets and blankets.

That evening as we went to the member’s rental house that had been provided for us, we found that another friend had stocked the refrigerator and freezer with food.

In the days and weeks that followed friends brought many large plastic bags full of clothes in all sizes.

My family and I were overwhelmed by all the love that we had received. We knew that the Lord was blessing us and showing His love. We were being comforted by heavenly angels, as well as many earthly angels. During this long trial we did not ask “Lord why me?”, instead we asked “Lord, what is it that you want us to do?” We also asked “what is the next step in our journey?”, for it was a journey and a trial in and of itself to be able to rebuild our home in the same location where we had lived for the past 40 years. But that is another story for another time and place.

During this trial we learned that all earthly possessions have no eternal purpose. We cannot take them with us when we leave this earthly existence. It was reinforced to us that the only thing that really matters in this mortal life is what we do to qualify as individuals and families to return to the presence of Our Heavenly Father and to live with Him. Everything else that we do is just to help us accomplish these goals.

This trial was not only to make us stronger and refine us, but I know that it was to allow others to gain blessings from the giving of service to my family. I know that we were blessed by their service, but I also know that they were blessed, or will receive blessings in time, because of the service they gave to us.

When the Manti Utah Temple was under construction some 120 years ago, George Paxman worked as a finish carpenter. He and his young wife, Martha, had one child and were expecting another.
While hanging one of the heavy east doors of the temple, George suffered a strangulated hernia. He was in terrible pain. Martha laid him in a wagon and took him to the town of Nephi, where she put him on the train and took him to Provo. There he died. Spurning marriage, she remained a widow for 62 years, supporting herself with needlework.

During World War II, my widowed mother supported her three young children on a schoolteacher’s salary that was meager. When I became conscious that we went without some desirable things because we didn’t have enough money, I asked my mother why she paid so much of her salary as tithing. I have never forgotten her explanation: “Dallin, there might be some people who can get along without paying tithing, but we can’t. The Lord has chosen to take your father and leave me to raise you children. I cannot do that without the blessings of the Lord, and I obtain those blessings by paying an honest tithing. When I pay my tithing, I have the Lord’s promise that he will bless us, and we must have those blessings if we are to get along.” … The law of tithing and the promise of blessings to those who live it apply to the people of the Lord in every nation. I hope our members will qualify for the blessings of the Lord by paying a full tithing.

When I was young I loved playing sports, and I have many fond memories of those days. But not all of them are pleasant. I remember one day after my football team lost a tough game, I came home feeling discouraged. My mother was there. She listened to my sad story. She taught her children to trust in themselves and each other, not blame others for their misfortunes, and give their best effort in everything they attempted.
When we fell down, she expected us to pick ourselves up and get going again. So the advice my mother gave to me then wasn’t altogether unexpected. It has stayed with me all my life.
“Joseph,” she said, “come what may, and love it.”
I have often reflected on that counsel.
I think she may have meant that every life has peaks and shadows and times when it seems that the birds don’t sing and bells don’t ring. Yet in spite of discouragement and adversity, those who are happiest seem to have a way of learning from difficult times, becoming stronger, wiser, and happier as a result.
There may be some who think that General Authorities rarely experience pain, suffering, or distress. If only that were true. While every man and woman on this stand today has experienced an abundant measure of joy, each also has drunk deeply from the cup of disappointment, sorrow, and loss. The Lord in His wisdom does not shield anyone from grief or sadness.
For me, the Lord has opened the windows of heaven and showered blessings upon my family beyond my ability to express. Yet like everyone else, I have had times in my life when it seemed that the heaviness of my heart might be greater than I could bear. During those times I think back to those tender days of my youth when great sorrows came at the losing end of a football game.
How little I knew then of what awaited me in later years. But whenever my steps led through seasons of sadness and sorrow, my mother’s words often came back to me: “Come what may, and love it.”
How can we love days that are filled with sorrow? We can’t—at least not in the moment. I don’t think my mother was suggesting that we suppress discouragement or deny the reality of pain. I don’t think she was suggesting that we smother unpleasant truths beneath a cloak of pretended happiness. But I do believe that the way we react to adversity can be a major factor in how happy and successful we can be in life.
If we approach adversities wisely, our hardest times can be times of greatest growth, which in turn can lead toward times of greatest happiness.
Over the years I have learned a few things that have helped me through times of testing and trial. I would like to share them with you.
The first thing we can do is learn to laugh. Have you ever seen an angry driver who, when someone else makes a mistake, reacts as though that person has insulted his honor, his family, his dog, and his ancestors all the way back to Adam? Or have you had an encounter with an overhanging cupboard door left open at the wrong place and the wrong time which has been cursed, condemned, and avenged by a sore-headed victim?
There is an antidote for times such as these: learn to laugh.
I remember loading up our children in a station wagon and driving to Los Angeles. There were at least nine of us in the car, and we would invariably get lost. Instead of getting angry, we laughed. Every time we made a wrong turn, we laughed harder.
Getting lost was not an unusual occurrence for us. Once while heading south to Cedar City, Utah, we took a wrong turn and didn’t realize it until two hours later when we saw the “Welcome to Nevada” signs. We didn’t get angry. We laughed, and as a result, anger and resentment rarely resulted. Our laughter created cherished memories for us.
I remember when one of our daughters went on a blind date. She was all dressed up and waiting for her date to arrive when the doorbell rang. In walked a man who seemed a little old, but she tried to be polite. She introduced him to me and my wife and the other children; then she put on her coat and went out the door. We watched as she got into the car, but the car didn’t move. Eventually our daughter got out of the car and, red faced, ran back into the house. The man that she thought was her blind date had actually come to pick up another of our daughters who had agreed to be a babysitter for him and his wife.
We all had a good laugh over that. In fact, we couldn’t stop laughing. Later, when our daughter’s real blind date showed up, I couldn’t come out to meet him because I was still in the kitchen laughing. Now, I realize that our daughter could have felt humiliated and embarrassed. But she laughed with us, and as a result, we still laugh about it today.
The next time you’re tempted to groan, you might try to laugh instead. It will extend your life and make the lives of all those around you more enjoyable.
The second thing we can do is seek for the eternal. You may feel singled out when adversity enters your life. You shake your head and wonder, “Why me?”
But the dial on the wheel of sorrow eventually points to each of us. At one time or another, everyone must experience sorrow. No one is exempt.
I love the scriptures because they show examples of great and noble men and women such as Abraham, Sarah, Enoch, Moses, Joseph, Emma, and Brigham. Each of them experienced adversity and sorrow that tried, fortified, and refined their characters.
Learning to endure times of disappointment, suffering, and sorrow is part of our on-the-job training. These experiences, while often difficult to bear at the time, are precisely the kinds of experiences that stretch our understanding, build our character, and increase our compassion for others.
Because Jesus Christ suffered greatly, He understands our suffering. He understands our grief. We experience hard things so that we too may have increased compassion and understanding for others.
Remember the sublime words of the Savior to the Prophet Joseph Smith when he suffered with his companions in the smothering darkness of Liberty Jail:
“My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;
“And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high; thou shalt triumph over all thy foes.”
With that eternal perspective, Joseph took comfort from these words, and so can we. Sometimes the very moments that seem to overcome us with suffering are those that will ultimately suffer us to overcome.
The third thing we can do is understand the principle of compensation. The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude.
One of the blessings of the gospel is the knowledge that when the curtain of death signals the end of our mortal lives, life will continue on the other side of the veil. There we will be given new opportunities. Not even death can take from us the eternal blessings promised by a loving Heavenly Father.
Because Heavenly Father is merciful, a principle of compensation prevails. I have seen this in my own life. My grandson Joseph has autism. It has been heartbreaking for his mother and father to come to grips with the implications of this affliction.
They knew that Joseph would probably never be like other children. They understood what that would mean not only for Joseph but for the family as well. But what a joy he has been to us. Autistic children often have a difficult time showing emotion, but every time I’m with him, Joseph gives me a big hug. While there have been challenges, he has filled our lives with joy.
His parents have encouraged him to participate in sports. When he first started playing baseball, he was in the outfield. But I don’t think he grasped the need to run after loose balls. He thought of a much more efficient way to play the game. When a ball was hit in his direction, Joseph watched it go by and then pulled another baseball out of his pocket and threw that one to the pitcher.
Any reservations that his family may have had in raising Joseph, any sacrifices they have made have been compensated tenfold. Because of this choice spirit, his mother and father have learned much about children with disabilities. They have witnessed firsthand the generosity and compassion of family, neighbors, and friends. They have rejoiced together as Joseph has progressed. They have marveled at his goodness.
The fourth thing we can do is put our trust in our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.
“God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son.” The Lord Jesus Christ is our partner, helper, and advocate. He wants us to be happy. He wants us to be successful. If we do our part, He will step in.
He who descended below all things will come to our aid. He will comfort and uphold us. He will strengthen us in our weakness and fortify us in our distress. He will make weak things become strong.
One of our daughters, after giving birth to a baby, became seriously ill. We prayed for her, administered to her, and supported her as best we could. We hoped she would receive a blessing of healing, but days turned into months, and months turned into years. At one point I told her that this affliction might be something she would have to struggle with the rest of her life.
One morning I remember pulling out a small card and threading it through my typewriter. Among the words that I typed for her were these: “The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord, do your best, then leave the rest to Him.”
She did put her trust in God. But her affliction did not disappear. For years she suffered, but in due course, the Lord blessed her, and eventually she returned to health.
Knowing this daughter, I believe that even if she had never found relief, yet she would have trusted in her Heavenly Father and “[left] the rest to Him.”
Although my mother has long since passed to her eternal reward, her words are always with me. I still remember her advice to me given on that day long ago when my team lost a football game: “Come what may, and love it.”
I know why there must be opposition in all things. Adversity, if handled correctly, can be a blessing in our lives. We can learn to love it.
As we look for humor, seek for the eternal perspective, understand the principle of compensation, and draw near to our Heavenly Father, we can endure hardship and trial. We can say, as did my mother, “Come what may, and love it.” Of this I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I’m having a blast here at the summer conference of the National Association of Student Councils. Among the 2,000 student delegates from North America, I didn’t expect to find other Mormons, but soon they found me!
Some LDS delegates planned a testimony meeting and spread the word. Dozens of LDS kids from all over North America showed up! As we bore our testimonies, the Spirit let us know the truthfulness of the Gospel.
Here’s a photo of some of the LDS kids. It’s great to know that so many student leaders are also such wonderful examples for the Church!
Love, Jamie

One day during my first mission, my companion, Elder Gordon Gallup, and I walked along a rural road late in the day when there was little traffic. It seemed no one wanted to give a ride to two tired elders. We knelt and asked the Lord to help us get a ride.
Almost immediately a pickup truck stopped. The driver, Sam Potaka, lived close to Taihape, our destination. When we reached his village, Utiku, he invited us to stay for dinner at his house. We held a wonderful missionary discussion with his family, and in due time Sam’s wife, mother-in-law, two married daughters, one married son, and their families gained testimonies and joined the Church. Later two other sons were also converted. The conversion of this wonderful family was a highlight of my mission.

Thirty frightened girls packed their meager belongings in their scarves and trudged through the streets of Seoul, South Korea, to the home of Whang Keun-Ok. The house wasn’t really big enough to hold so many people, and the girls didn’t know what life would hold outside the comparative security of the orphanage where they had grown up. But they wanted to follow the woman they loved and trusted like a mother. They also wanted to participate in the church her example had led them to: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The pilgrimage on that November night in 1969 marked the beginning of Sister Whang’s Tender Apples Home—only one of the charitable projects which she considers her life’s mission.
In the meantime, the girls had learned that Stan was a Latter-day Saint. “Some of us had never heard of Mormons before, and some of us thought they were pagans,” says Jini. “But the only thing that seemed weird about Stan was that he was so tall. One day we said to him, ‘You’re such a nice person. It’s hard to believe you’re Mormon.’
“‘Why?’ he asked. ‘Your superintendent is a Mormon.’”
Jini was translating for the group, and she remembers sitting there stunned as the other girls begged her to tell them what Stan had said. Since the orphanage was sponsored by another religion, Sister Whang had agreed not to discuss her beliefs. The girls had known she was Christian, but that was all.
From the animated reaction, Stan knew he had said something he shouldn’t have. But it was too late. The girls started asking Sister Whang about her church. When the orphanage’s sponsoring religion found out, authorities told Sister Whang she would either have to convert to their church or find a new job.
It was then that Sister Whang decided to start an orphanage of her own—the Tender Apples Home. Those girls who were interested in the Church received permission to come and live with her.
Funding the orphanage was a constant challenge. Stan worked in the United States to raise money and find sponsors for the girls, and he says Sister Whang was constantly trying to find financial supporters. “She was good at opening people’s hearts and getting them to believe in her work,” he reports. “I think it was because she was so sincere.”
Eugene Till, who served as president of the Korea Seoul Mission from 1974 to 1977, believes that Sister Whang’s persistence also played a major role. “She would tell you what she needed, and she would accept nothing less than total fulfillment,” he says. “She never took her eye off a goal until it was accomplished. You can understand that kind of determination when a person is going to gain something from her work. But when the results of Sister Whang’s efforts came—clothing, money, food—she didn’t keep any of it for herself.”
Equally as important as supporting her girls temporally was giving them opportunities to feel the Spirit. Jessica Lyon Ohn spent three years in the Tender Apple Home, beginning in January 1975. She remembers that days started for the girls at 6:00 A.M.. with hymn singing, prayer, and scripture study. Sister Whang got up before the girls so she could pray and study the scriptures, then stoke the fires so the house would be warm when the girls woke up. Monday evenings were set aside for family home evening, and Sister Whang made sure the girls had money for bus fare so they could attend church each Sunday.
Sister Whang taught her girls to help spread the gospel. When President Till arrived in Korea in 1974, he learned from a survey that only 10 percent of the people in Seoul were aware of the name of the Church. During his three years as mission president, he and his missionaries concentrated on changing that. With Sister Whang’s permission, President Till assigned several elders—who formed a singing group known as “New Horizon”—to work directly with the Tender Apples choir to put on a musical show that would introduce the people in Korea to the gospel.
The group became immensely popular. Through it all, President Till remembers, Sister Whang “taught the girls that they shouldn’t be too proud of themselves, because they were just doing what they were supposed to do.” At the end of three years, more than 70 percent of the people in Seoul recognized the Church’s name.
One of Sister Whang’s major goals was to place as many of her girls as possible with Latter-day Saint families. Of the eighty-four children she brought up over a period of nearly twenty years, thirty-three were adopted into Latter-day Saint homes in the United States. Twelve have married in the temple, and nine have served full-time missions.
Also of utmost importance to Sister Whang was that the girls learn responsibility and be treated as equals. They were each assigned chores around the home—preparing food, washing clothes, and cleaning—and they were each expected to use the home’s resources wisely. Jessica remembers a time when one of the girls threw away a blouse that could have been repaired. When Sister Whang found it in the garbage, she lectured the girls on not wasting. Then, at the next home evening, she gave everyone a plastic sewing box full of needles and thread and taught them how to mend.
Even though the girls grew up and no longer live with her, Sister Whang cares about them still. Rosemarie Slover, former matron of the Seoul Korea Temple, says that when she and her husband, Robert, returned to Provo two years ago, Sister Whang asked them to check on her girls who lived in Utah, especially one who had just left Korea and would be homesick. Sister Whang corresponds with many of her girls, and her small, sparsely furnished room—she now rents the rest of her house in Seoul—is filled with pictures of them and their families.
And the girls feel a similar concern for their “mom.” In October 1990, she went to the United States to escort several children who were being adopted by U.S. families. Many girls who had sung in the Tender Apples choir gathered from far and near to see her. President Till speaks of watching her greet her “children,” with a broad smile on her face and tears in her eyes. As each woman arrived, often accompanied by a husband and children, Sister Whang would gather the group in a massive hug and hold on as if she would never let go.
“I’ve never seen Sister Whang show such emotion,” remembers President Till. “It was especially touching when I thought of what might have happened to those girls without her. A couple of them probably wouldn’t have survived. The rest of them probably would have ended up as servants or living on the street. Sister Whang truly provided physical salvation for those girls—and gave them the opportunity for spiritual salvation by introducing them to the gospel.”
But Sister Whang’s selflessness extends beyond her girls to everyone she meets. “She has a heart big enough for the whole world,” smiles Jini. “She can accept and love anybody.” Jini saw this illustrated vividly three and a half years ago when Jini went to Korea to find her brother, from whom she had been separated twenty-eight years earlier. He was now an alcoholic, both mentally and physically ill. He had no home, no money, no job—nothing but the tattered clothes on his back. Jini was forced to place him in a government institution.
Since family members were required to provide patients’ personal items, Jini called Sister Whang. Could Jini leave money and have Sister Whang phone the institution occasionally to see that her brother had the things he needed? Sister Whang promptly agreed. But instead of calling, she traveled to visit the man each week. By then she was the principal of a large preschool and kindergarten. But she regularly took nearly a whole day off work to bake him treats, ride the bus to the institution, then sit with him and hold his hand—even though he could give her little response.
“I couldn’t believe she did that,” says Jini. “She had never even met this guy. But she said, ‘I look forward to it every week.’”
“If there ever was a ministering angel, she’s one,” says Stan Bronson. “I believe with all my heart that she was raised up by the Lord for these purposes.”
Through it all, Sister Whang—one of Korea’s gospel pioneers—has done all she can to help build God’s kingdom on earth. She served for many years as district and stake Relief Society president, and she has been a temple worker since the Seoul temple opened in 1985. She asked to officiate two days each week instead of the normal one, reports Robert Slover, former temple president. Why? “She says it’s the Lord’s work,” explains Suzette Marble, “and she would do anything for Him—and be happy to do it.”
Sister Whang’s example has changed the lives of all who know her. “She never talks about what she has done, but she just goes about her work in her own small, quiet way,” observes Sister Slover.
“I think of her every day,” says Jini, “and I use her as a role model. She has taught me that one person can make a difference.”

Charlotte pushed her fingers into her ears. Singing time was usually her favorite part of Primary. But today she didn’t want to hear the songs they were singing. She had asked if she could sit in the hall instead.
She stared at the green carpet, trying not to cry. It didn’t work.
Someone walked up beside her. Charlotte quickly wiped away her tears and looked up.
It was Sister Henry. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Charlotte swallowed. “Those songs are about happy families and being together forever,” she said quietly.
“Oh. I see.” Sister Henry sat down beside Charlotte.
A few months ago, Charlotte’s parents had called a family meeting. Dad explained that he was moving.
“So it’s kind of like you’re getting a divorce?” Charlotte had asked.
“Not kind of,” Mom said. “We both love you, but yes, we are getting divorced.”
Charlotte remembered how her skin felt cold and hot at the same time. Then all of her feelings erupted! Fear, anger, confusion, and deep sadness—the kind that made you feel sick.
She still felt that way sometimes. Like when Mom and Dad sat on opposite sides of the pool at her swim meets. Or when her little brother cried for Mom when they stayed at Dad’s house.
Or when they were singing about families in Primary.
“When my parents got divorced, it felt like someone was punching me in the stomach,” Sister Henry said. “Over and over again.”
Charlotte was surprised. “Your parents are divorced too?”
Sister Henry nodded. “They got divorced when I was about your age.”
Charlotte looked at her hands. “Sometimes when we sing ‘Families Can Be Together Forever,’ I think, ‘Except for mine.’” She squeezed her eyes closed. “I get so mad. And that’s bad, isn’t it?”
Sister Henry shook her head. “No. I used to feel sick whenever I saw kids with both of their parents together.”
“Yeah!” Charlotte said. “It’s like they’re in a happy family club, and I’m not. Everything is different now.”
“It’s normal to feel mad, sad, or scared now—however you feel,” Sister Henry said. “Divorce is hard. But I promise that you will feel better. Your family is still your family, even if it looks different now. It helped me a lot to remember that my parents still loved me, and would for all eternity.”
Charlotte smiled. She liked Sister Henry.
Sister Henry leaned closer to Charlotte. “But you know what helped me the most?” she whispered.
“What?” Charlotte whispered back.
“I learned that I still have a perfect, happy family,” Sister Henry said. “And so do you. We all do, no matter what our earthly family is like right now.”
Charlotte crinkled her nose. “How?”
“Well, our earthly families aren’t perfect, but our heavenly family is. So no matter what happens, we have heavenly parents who love us and a wonderful heavenly home waiting for us.”
When Charlotte thought about that, she felt a little hopeful. She imagined what it would be like one day when she saw her heavenly parents again.
“Maybe when we’re singing about families, I can think about my heavenly family,” Charlotte said. Sister Henry nodded.
Charlotte had just one more question. “Does it look like I’ve been crying?”
“Not a bit,” Sister Henry said.
Charlotte stood up. “Then I think I’m ready to sing.”