Gospel Story Finder

What do you do when you run into pornography? One day Christian Monzón of Asunción, Paraguay, borrowed a cell phone from a friend at school to play games on it. He discovered that the phone had pornography stored in it.
There was no doubt in Christian’s mind what his friend should do about that, so Christian helped him see the need to get rid of the offensive pictures. Christian calmly explained how damaging material like that can be. He said, “If you were a father, you wouldn’t want your son looking at that.”
Part of what Christian told his friend came from For the Strength of Youth. Christian says the pamphlet helps him in every phase of his life. “I wouldn’t be where I am without it,” he says. He has also given copies to a couple of friends at school. They told him it gave them guidance they needed with specific problems.

There are so many blessings that come from reading the Book of Mormon. One time in my life I was encompassed with fears of what other people thought of me. In a way, you could say I was heeding the voices coming from the great and spacious building. One day I read the following in the Book of Mormon: “Hearken unto me, ye that follow after righteousness. Look unto Abraham, your father, and unto Sarah, she that bare you; for I called him alone, and blessed him” (2 Nephi 8:1-2). I thought to myself, ‘That’s me; I’m trying to follow righteousness. I am part of the Abrahamic covenant. Now what is it going to tell me to do?’

Then I read some more: “Hearken unto me, ye that know righteousness, the people in whose heart I have written my law, fear ye not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings. For the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool” (2 Nephi 8:7-8). I thought: ‘What am I afraid of? If a moth or a worm can eat them up; what is there to fear from them?’ Then it reads: “But my righteousness shall be forever, and my salvation from generation to generation” (2 Nephi 8:8). I thought, ‘I know what to do. I will trust in the Lord. I will fear no more.’

While living in New Canaan, Connecticut, USA, the Thompsons were blessed with twin girls. When the girls were born prematurely and with Down syndrome, their ward came to the rescue, supporting them during the twins’ open-heart surgeries and months of hospital stays. Some of those early needs were easy to see. Members organized meals, childcare, house cleaning, help with Christmas, and more.
But the loving help didn’t stop as the children grew and the needs became less apparent. Loving friends, leaders, and ministering brothers and sisters made the effort to counsel with the Thompsons about how they could help.
“A friend asked me what was hard,” Sister Thompson said. “I mentioned that Sundays were difficult because my husband and I were often busy in our callings and had to leave our oldest daughter in charge alone. My friend immediately offered to take the twins for a few hours each Sunday. She did so for many months.”
When the twins reached their teens, leaders regularly sat down with the parents to plan activities that were inclusive and fun for the twins as well as for the rest of the young women. Another friend invited the girls to her house so that the Thompsons could participate in choir practice.
After the Thompsons moved to Utah, a couple was assigned to minister to their family. “They always asked before visiting what our needs were and what kind of message would best suit our family,” Sister Thompson said. “They took time to know every member of the family, which is important because the siblings of those with special needs often get overlooked.” The couple often invited the twins out for special activities, giving the family a break.
Sister Thompson would advise ministering brothers and sisters not to be afraid to ask the parents what is hard for them and how to help. “Just reach out. The more you get to know someone, the more you will understand how to best minister to them.”

“Want to get yourself a glass of milk, Frankie?” Granny Bebe asked, smiling across the table. Frankie jumped up. He found a glass and pressed it against the stainless steel lever under the milk cooler. Milk poured into his glass.
Granny Bebe owned the restaurant, and she let Frankie help himself to whatever he wanted. Mama and his sister, Mary, had left Frankie with Granny Bebe to spend a few hours while they went shopping. He loved everything about the restaurant, especially the pretty colored lamps and all the people hurrying about. Frankie didn’t want to hurt Mama’s feelings, but as soon as he was big enough, he planned to come and live with Granny Bebe. This is where the action is, he thought as Granny Bebe introduced him to some customers.
Too soon Mama and Mary were back at the restaurant. Granny Bebe gave Frankie a big hug and told him to visit her again soon.
As they drove down the highway toward home, Frankie was already missing the restaurant. The only excitement in the part of the country where he lived was an airplane flying over now and then, headed for the airport ten miles away. Frankie loved airplanes almost as much as Granny Bebe’s restaurant.
The highway passed the airport and, as they neared it, Frankie saw cars parked all around the airstrip.
“Look, Mama!” Mary said. “This is the day that the planes are taking passengers for a ride.”
Mama turned the car off the road and pulled into a parking space. Sometimes Mama did unexpected things. “I’ve never been up in a plane,” she said. “Come on, kids, let’s go.”
Almost before Frankie knew what was happening, he was flying! Two pilots sat in the front seats, he and Mama sat behind them, and Mary and another passenger sat in the rear seats. The engines of the yellow plane made a thunderous noise. Frankie leaned as far forward as his seat belt permitted so that he could hear the pilots’ conversation.
“Where to, young fellow?” one of them asked him.
“Fly over Granny’s restaurant. You know—‘Bebe’s’!” Frankie had to shout to make himself heard.
“Roger,” said the pilot.
It took only a moment for the plane to circle toward Granny’s restaurant. The buildings in town looked like a model village, and the cars looked smaller than his pocket racers. The restaurant was in a crowded area, and Frankie had a hard time locating it among the other buildings. Finally he spotted the dome-shaped building with cars sticking out like little feet around it.
Mary tapped Mama on the shoulder. “Now ask him to fly over our house!”
Mama gave the pilot directions to their home in the foothills north of the highway.
As they flew along, Frankie pressed his nose against the small window of the plane, trying to identify places on the ground. He looked at the winding river and could see miles of it all at one time. He saw the tiny houses in their tiny yards and the cars crawling like ants along the highway. He leaned forward to listen to the pilots again.
“Look over there to your right,” the man flying the plane shouted. “See that house with the bright green roof on the side of the mountain? That house is my beacon. I always spot it before the airport.”
“Me, too,” said the copilot. “When I see that green roof, I know that I’m almost home.”
“Why,” Mama exclaimed, “that’s our house!”
Frankie could see that indeed it was their house that the pilots were talking about! The green roof shone like a jewel among the gray winter trees, and their very own yellow dirt road ran along the ridge next to the sloping fields of winter wheat. And the pond at the very edge of a cliff was the most beautiful of all. Frankie had helped Grandpa Townsend build it for a fish pond. He hadn’t realized before just how pretty it was.
“I wish everyone could see his home from the air,” Mama said. “Sometimes we are too close to things to properly appreciate them.”
“It sure looks different from up here!” Mary declared.
Now Frankie could see a silver-roofed house father down the little yellow road. An old truck was parked in front of it. “Look, Mary!” Frankie cried, pointing. “There’s Grandpa Townsend’s old orange pickup! I bet that he doesn’t know that we’re way up here!”
“No!” shouted Mary in agreement. “He’s probably waiting for you to help him feed the fish!”
Suddenly Frankie could hardly wait for the plane to land. He wanted to rush home and tell Grandpa Townsend about his flight and about how different the farm looked from the air.
Maybe I won’t move to Granny Bebe’s, after all, he thought. It’s pretty special living in a house that pilots use for a beacon. And pretty soon they’ll be talking about the boy on the yellow dirt road who waves to them when they fly over.

May I suggest some thoughts for your consideration. To me the permanent, unchanging, first priority in our lives is our relationship with our Heavenly Father and his Son Jesus Christ. If that relationship is one of love, of trust, and of obedience, all else will be well. May I try to picture for you what I mean? Recently an attractive young woman—the age of the majority of you students, one of your peers—came to my office with her parents. She came from a good family, but she had lost her way and now was in serious difficulty. She was unmarried and expecting a child. What should she do? My heart went out to her. I think she loved the Lord. She had forgotten, however, that if you love the Lord you keep in touch with him and you keep his commandments. She had control over her emotions until I asked her if she said her prayers. Then she began to cry. How important it is to communicate daily, and more often if necessary, with our Heavenly Father. He always loves us whether we are good or bad. It takes initiative on our part if he is to bless us.

On Thursday of that week, members of the Relief Society presidency visited to introduce themselves and welcome our parents to the ward. On Sunday the bishop came to meet them and inquire whether they needed anything. He spent almost an hour with them, genuinely getting to know them and asking if they’d be willing to take ministering assignments.
Within two weeks of their arrival, they had ministering brothers and sisters assigned to them and were contacted by both. They also received ministering assignments and were introduced to their assigned families. Even with Mom’s late-stage dementia, her ministering companion made the effort to invite her and bring her along as they visited the sisters they were assigned to. The ministering brothers were consistent, loving, and genuine. They immediately found a commonality with roots from Wyoming, and my parents felt loved from the first visit.

My parents, Aparecido and Mercedes Soares, always dreamed of serving a mission. They wanted to repay the Lord for the many blessings that had come to their family since they had joined the Church. Their opportunity came in 1989 when they accepted a call to serve in the São Paulo Brazil Temple.
Only a few months into their mission, however, my father suffered a heart attack and passed away. During his funeral, I embraced my mother as we stood before my father’s casket.
“Mom, what’s next for you?” I asked.
“Your father and I dreamed of this mission,” she replied. “I am serving right now, and I will continue to serve—for him and for me.”
A kind temple president assigned another widow to serve as my mother’s companion, and my mother continued her mission for more than 20 months. Her missionary service blessed her, and her faith and example blessed my family and me.
During her mission, two of my brothers also passed away, and my wife and I lost two children. The first was born premature and did not survive, and we lost the second to miscarriage. During that trying time for our family, my mother was there in the temple every day reaffirming her faith—and strengthening ours—in the plan of salvation.
Her faith in a glorious reunion with my father and the promise of eternal life in the presence of our Heavenly Father sustained her for 29 years as a widow until the end of her days, at the age of 94.

Da Rock
As it is with most relationships, there is a period of time where you are trying to figure each other out. This band of brothers was no different. At this particular stage in our childhood, I think we were just trying to figure out which house would be best to play at, which house had the best food, and which house gave us the best opportunity to do whatever we wanted.
So, we planned a day to play at my house after school. I don’t remember what we did but I know I had a good time; and when my mother called me to come in, I didn’t want to listen. So, I told her no.
Have you ever told a Samoan mother no? Well, I’m about to explain what happens to you when you do.
She looked around for something to reprimand me with and finding nothing nearby, she picked up a rock. She raised her hand up behind her head and looked at me, waiting for a response.
So, I gave her one. I started dancing around like a boxer, “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee,” and said to her, “Go ahead!”
Like a quarterback watching the tendency of a Defensive Back, she did a double-pump... and I bit. She got me in the air before she let the rock go. It hit me square on the ankle and I started howling.
I looked around for my band of brothers for help and they had disappeared.
Would it have been easier for me to listen? At that stage of my educational process, I would have to say no. So, the Lord sent me to the back of the “line upon line, upon line, upon line. . . until I learned.
Did the consequences of my actions teach me anything? At that stage of my educational process, I would have to say no. So, the Lord sent me to the back of the “line upon line, upon line, upon line. . . until I learned.

A Father’s Blessing
During the Vietnam War, we held a series of special meetings for members of the Church called into military service. After such a meeting in Chicago, I was standing next to President Harold B. Lee when a fine young Latter-day Saint told President Lee that he was on leave to visit his home and then had orders to Vietnam. He asked President Lee to give him a blessing.
Much to my surprise, President Lee said, “Your father should give you the blessing.”
Very disappointed, the boy said, “My father wouldn’t know how to give a blessing.”
President Lee answered, “Go home, my boy, and tell your father that you are going away to war and want to receive a father’s blessing from him. If he does not know how, tell him that you will sit on a chair. He can stand behind you and put his hands on your head and say whatever comes.”
This young soldier went away sorrowing.
About two years later I met him again. I do not recall where. He reminded me of that experience and said, “I did as I was told to do. I explained to my father that I would sit on the chair and that he should put his hands on my head. The power of the priesthood filled both of us. That was a strength and protection in those perilous months of battle.”
President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles

Jason finished his brownie and joined the group gathering in the hallway. It was time for the scavenger hunt at Anna’s party.
“Here are your lists,” Anna said, handing out the sheets of paper to the three team captains.
Jason took his and said, “Come on, team!” Emily, Crystal, Rob, and Mark followed him into the kitchen. The other teams went into different rooms to examine their lists.
“We have to be ready to go when the whistle blows,” Jason said.
“What’s on our list?” asked Emily.
Jason studied the sheet. “These things shouldn’t be too hard to find,” he said. “A dog food coupon, half an English muffin, yesterday’s newspaper, a piece of junk jewelry, a sock—”
“Nobody’s going to give us one sock,” Rob interrupted.
“They will if the mate’s been lost,” said Crystal.
“As I was saying,” continued Jason, “a paper clip, a used postage stamp, a magazine, a thumbtack, a red button—”
“Wait!” Emily yelled. She reached into her jeans pocket and fished around for a moment. “Look!” She pulled out a button.
“We can’t use that,” Mark told her. “We have to get the stuff from houses. It’s the rules, just like staying together is.”
“Besides,” Crystal said, “part of the fun is getting the stuff.”
“OK,” said Emily. “I think my mom will want to sew it back on my blouse, anyway.” She put the button back into her pocket.
“What else?” Mark asked.
“Just a packet of ketchup like you get in restaurants and a brown shoelace.”
“This should be a cinch,” said Rob. “What area do we hunt in?”
“We have the section west of Ames Street and south of here.”
Emily sighed. “That’s kind of a poor area. I bet they won’t have half this stuff.”
“Don’t worry,” said Crystal. “Everyone has things like these. We’re not asking for microwave ovens!”
Wheeet! A whistle pierced the air.
“Let’s go!” Jason hollered, and they hurried for the front door, bumping into the other two groups. Everyone squeezed through the door and raced away.
The shoelace, newspaper, thumbtack, and paper clip were easy. One stop took care of them all. Two houses later they got the button, the dog food coupon, and the stamp. Next, someone gave them a worn-out green sock and suggested that they try the house across the street for the jewelry because the lady there was always having garage sales.
Not only did the lady across the street give them an old bracelet, but she also provided them with the packet of ketchup and an old Friend magazine.
Now they had just one item to get. But though they went to ten houses in a row, no one had an English muffin.
Finally they found themselves near the end of a dead-end street. The only house that they hadn’t tried was a tiny, shabby-looking one.
“Shall we try it?” asked Jason.
Emily shook her head. “They’re not going to have an English muffin in there. I don’t even want to go to the door.”
“I say we try it,” Jason said. “It can’t hurt to ask.”
“We’re already here, Em,” Rob coaxed her. “What do we have to lose?”
“I agree with Rob and Jason,” said Crystal.
There’s something forlorn about this house, Jason thought as he led the group to the door and knocked. For a minute he thought that no one was home. Then suddenly the porch was bathed in light, and the door opened slowly.
“Yes? Can I help you?” The frailest, oldest-looking woman Jason had ever seen stood in the doorway, wearing a much-mended robe.
She looks afraid of us, thought Jason. He smiled apologetically and said, “We’re sorry to bother you. We’re on a scavenger hunt and—well—we’re sorry to disturb you.”
As he and the others started to turn away, the lady quavered, “Wait! What do you need for your hunt?”
“Well …” Jason hesitated, wishing that she hadn’t asked. It was bad enough disturbing her, but asking for food …
“Half an English muffin,” Crystal reluctantly admitted, her face turning pink.
To their surprise, the woman invited them in. As they stepped into the clean but worn-looking front room, the old lady hurried toward the kitchen, saying, “I just might be able to help.”
Crystal followed the woman into her kitchen while the rest of the group waited in the front room. No one mentioned the patched furniture or the water stains on the ceiling, but they were all uncomfortably aware of the shabby room.
A moment later the woman came back and said, “Here you go, children.” She gestured toward Crystal, who followed her, carrying an English muffin.
“But—but”—Jason stammered—“you didn’t need to—”
“Go ahead. Take it,” urged the old lady. “I went on a few scavenger hunts in my day, you know. Now, you children hurry, or you might not win.” There was a twinkle in her eye as she held the door open. “Good luck!” she called after them.
When they were halfway up the street, Crystal said, “I tried to stop her. I feel terrible taking it. Do you know what she had in her kitchen? Hardly anything. That was her last English muffin. She got it out of her refrigerator, and all that was left in there were a few eggs. Her cupboard didn’t have a door, and there were only two cans of tomato soup, a box of oatmeal, and a box of instant rice in it. It was … pitiful!”
Rob said, “Maybe she just hasn’t been to the store yet.” But he didn’t sound like he believed it.
“Nobody’s groceries get that low,” Emily said, “unless they’re really poor.”
Even though no one was in much of a hurry now, Jason’s team still reached Anna’s house first. When the other teams returned and congratulated Jason’s team for winning, he explained why none of them seemed very happy.
Suddenly Emily exclaimed, “I have an idea! Maybe this scavenger hunt is just beginning.” After she told them her idea, everyone eagerly broke into teams again, this time carrying empty boxes.
“Sorry to bother you again,” Jason said to the lady who had given them the jewelry when she came to the door. “We’re on another hunt.”
“Two in one night?” she asked.
“Sort of. You see, while we were out before, we found an elderly woman who needs a few things.” After he had explained, the woman gave them some canned food and a blanket.
From house to house they went. People were generous with food, clothing, and other items. An hour later they returned to Anna’s. The other teams had done well too.
With half a dozen volunteers to carry sacks and boxes, Jason led the way to the old woman’s house. But when they got there, they found that all the lights were out.
“She must be in bed,” whispered Jason. “I don’t want to bother her again. Does anyone have a pen and paper?”
Crystal gave him both, and while the boxes were being stacked quietly just outside the door, Jason wrote: “Thanks for the muffin. We won!” He placed the note inside his sack, where the woman was sure to see it.
And he thought as they walked away that, because of her act of trusting kindness, they had all won.

Then I met Vanessa. One day after we’d been together a while, she said, “We need religion in this house.” By then we had three children.
With the world as it is, we worried about what spiritual direction we were going to give our children. I thought that if I was going back to religion, I would go back to my church. I remembered it was a place with good people.
I talked to a member of the Church and told him I was thinking about returning to church.
“Please come back!” he said.
My biggest worry was that my children would think church was boring and wouldn’t like it, but they did like it. As we continued going to church, Vanessa decided that there was nothing similar to the Church that helps families grow together. It was exactly what she was looking for. Vanessa and I got married, and she and our children got baptized.
Now we’re walking the gospel path as a family. Our goal is to be sealed together in the temple.

Here's one more story of preparatory corrective counsel coming from a peer. When President Clark was in high school, he was in a very successful band. Yes, it was a rock band. On the way home from winning a battle of the bands in his native Spokane, Washington, young Kim Clark was with a friend who cared enough to tell him the truth. She said, "You know, you are becoming two people. You're really different when you are around the band." He realized she was right and decided that day to quit the band. The rest is history.

In the priesthood we share the sacred duty to labor for the souls of men. We must do more than learn that this is our duty. It must go down into our hearts so deeply that neither the many demands on our efforts in the bloom of life nor the trials that come with age can turn us from that purpose.

Not long ago I visited a high priest in his home. He is no longer able to come to our quorum meetings. He lives alone. His beautiful wife died, and his children live far away from him. Time and illness limit his ability to serve. He still lifts weights to keep what he can of his once-powerful strength.

When I walked into his home, he stood up from his walker to greet me. He invited me to sit in a chair near him. We talked of our happy associations in the priesthood.

Then with great intensity he said to me, “Why am I still living? Why am I still here? I can’t do anything.”

I told him that he was doing something for me. He was lifting me with his faith and his love. Even in our short visit, he made me want to be better. His example of determination to do something that mattered had inspired me to try harder to serve others and the Lord.

But from the sad sound of his voice and the look in his eyes, I could sense that I had not answered his questions. He still wondered why God let him live with such limitations on his ability to serve.

In his usual generous way, he thanked me for coming to see him. As I got up to leave, the nurse who comes to his home a few hours every day walked in from another room. During our private conversation, he had told me a little about her. He said she was wonderful. She had lived among the Latter-day Saints most of her life but was still not a member.

She walked up to show me to the door. He motioned toward her and said with a smile, “See, I can’t seem to do anything. I have been trying to get her baptized into the Church, but it hasn’t worked.” She smiled back at him and at me. I walked outside and turned toward my home nearby.

I realized then that the answers to his questions were planted long ago in his heart. That valiant high priest was trying to do his duty, taught to him through decades in the priesthood.

He knew that the only way that young woman could have the blessing of salvation through the gospel of Jesus Christ was to make a covenant by being baptized. He had been taught according to the covenants by every president of every quorum from the deacons to the high priests.

He remembered and felt his own oath and covenant in the priesthood. He was still keeping it.

He was a witness and a missionary for the Savior wherever life would take him. It was already in his heart. The desire of his heart was that her heart could be changed through the Atonement of Jesus Christ by keeping sacred covenants.

His time in the school of the priesthood in this life will be relatively brief compared to eternity. But even in that short span, he has mastered the eternal curriculum. He will carry with him, wherever the Lord will call, priesthood lessons of eternal worth.

I first started fasting after my 11th birthday. My mum and dad had given me a brief explanation of it and how we do not eat our meals and then pay the Lord the equivalent of the food we did not eat, plus a generous offering. At first, I was confused. Why should I resist the temptation when I could just sneak to the kitchen and grab some cookies? At long last, I told my parents that I couldn’t go on. They agreed and said I could break my short, two-hour fast.
I began preparing for the next fast. Reading scriptures like Alma 5:46 and Helaman 3:35 really helped. During my second fast, I was able to bear missing up to two meals. When I felt the temptation, I resisted it by thinking of my Father above and how He sacrificed His Son for us. I reminded myself that I was showing my gratitude to Him by sacrificing, too. Fasting built a stronger and more sure testimony for me. I was confident enough to stand at the pulpit, and bear my testimony. I learnt how to be humble, strong, faithful, and diligent. Fasting definitely helped me in my school and social life, making me aware of the world and Satan.
Now I have grown to love fasting, which helps me so much in my life. I love bearing my testimony on fast Sunday. The feeling is wonderful, and the Spirit is with me. I didn’t starve—I fasted.

Each instance of prophecy is of great interest to Latter-day Saints. Two of these can serve as examples. In 1830, the year the Church was organized, an aged patriarch named Arama Toiroa, who lived in the area of Mahia, gathered his children, grandchildren, and relatives together and gave them some advice. (At that time most of his descendants had joined the Church of England.) His people, who considered him a seer, listened carefully to what he said:
“‘My dear friends, you must leave that church, for it is not the true church of the God of heaven. The church you have joined is from the earth and not from heaven.’
“Upon hearing this his people asked, ‘Where then can we find a church where we can worship the true God?’
“Arama Toiroa answered, ‘There will come to you a true form of worship; it will be brought from the east, even from beyond the heavens. It will be brought across the great ocean and you will hear of it coming to Poneke (Wellington) and afterwards its representatives will come to Te Mahia.
“‘They will then go northward to Waiapu but will return to Te Mahia.
“‘When this “Karakia,” form of worship, is introduced amongst you, you will know it, for one shall stand and raise both hands to heaven.
“‘When you see this sign, enter into that church. Many of you will join the church and afterwards one will go from amongst you the same way that the ministers came even unto the land from afar off.’”
Fifty-four years passed before Arama’s words were fulfilled. In 1884 Elders Alma Greenwood and Ira Hinckley brought the gospel to the Wellington area and then made their way to Hawkes Bay. There they were joined by President William E. Stewart, and together they traversed the path Arama had predicted. It was at Korongata, however, and not at Mahia, that Arama’s descendants first accepted the gospel. Brother Whaanga described the day when the gospel was first preached to Arama’s people:
“In journeying northward they reached … Korongata, where many of us were assembled on the Sabbath day.
“Amongst the people who were there was a grandson of Arama Toiroa whose name was Te Teira Marutu.
“The meeting was conducted by Elder Stewart and his friends. The services were opened with singing and prayer, and a Gospel address was delivered, after which they sang again, and Brother Stewart arose to dismiss with prayer. In doing so he raised both hands and invoked God’s blessing upon the people.
“As soon as the grandson of Arama Toiroa saw this he arose and declared that this was the church of which his forefather prophesied which would surely be firmly established amongst the Maori people.
“He and his wife applied for baptism, and they and their children were thus initiated into the Church by Elder Stewart.”3
Subsequently the missionaries returned to Mahia and held meetings with other descendants of Arama Toiroa. After seeing the sign, these people said, “This is indeed the church for us, for did not our revered forefather, Arama Toiroa, prophesy about it?”
Largely as a result of this prophecy, every person in Korongata joined the Church, and a large number of Maoris in Mahia entered the waters of baptism.

When I was a deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood, I was called to be secretary of my deacons quorum. I prepared the records I kept very carefully, for I wanted to do my very best in that calling. Doing all I can, to the very best of my ability, has been my goal in every calling I have ever held.
One day the bishopric asked me to take the sacrament to a man who could not leave his house. That special Sunday morning, when I knocked on Brother Wright’s door, I heard his weak voice call, “Come in.” I went into his humble home. His room was filled with the Spirit of the Lord.
I went to Brother Wright’s bedside and carefully placed a piece of sacrament bread to his lips. I then held the cup of water so that he could drink. As I left, I saw tears in his eyes as he said, “God bless you, my boy.” And God did bless me. He helped me appreciate the sacred emblems of the sacrament and the priesthood that I held.

Brothers and sisters, I pray that the Lord will bless me that I may follow the counsel of a small plaque in my office that reads, “Above all else, brethren, let us think straight.” These were the last words spoken in mortality by my grandfather, Elder Melvin J. Ballard, who was in the hospital suffering end-stage leukemia in 1939.

My father, who was sitting at Grandfather’s bedside, told me that Grandfather pushed himself up in bed, looked around his hospital room as though he were addressing a congregation or a group, and said clearly, “And above all else, brethren, let us think straight.” I don’t go into my office any day of the week that I don’t see those words.

I lost my father during World War II, when I was four years old. I learned how to work because my father was not there and my mother gave us children assignments. I helped cook dinner for my family because Mother had to work. My older sister and brother had part-time jobs to help the family, and when I got older, I did too. I worked on a farm and with a fishing business.
After I finished junior high school, I had to work to support myself. As a young man I found a full-time job at a bean-curd shop in a larger city about nine hours away from my home. I went to high school in the evenings, so I got home late. Early the next morning at work, I made bean curds and sold them on the street or delivered them to various stores.
I became very sick from working so hard and had to stay in the hospital. I thought I might die. I was born into a Buddhist family. I always felt that there was a God in heaven, but I had never been taught about God. I was very desperate to talk to Him. I didn’t even know the word for “Heavenly Father,” so I asked, “God, are You there? Please help me.” After eight days I was able to leave the hospital, and I lived with my uncle while I recovered.
A few days later the missionaries came to my uncle’s door. When I saw them I told them to go away. But one of them said, “We have a great message for you. A boy just like you saw your Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.” I couldn’t resist because I had been praying and seeking Heavenly Father just a few days before. So I said, “You can have 10 minutes. Come in.”
The missionaries taught me the beautiful and sacred story of Joseph Smith. And I was touched. I really felt the power of the Spirit. The missionaries asked me to pray and ask Heavenly Father if their message was true, and then they taught me how to pray. I prayed that evening. Even now I remember exactly how I felt that day.
I asked the missionaries to come back almost every day after that. I believed what they taught me. I believed that Joseph Smith saw Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ in the Sacred Grove. But before I could be baptized, I needed to get permission from my mother. I called her and said, “Mother, I’ve found a wonderful church. I need to get your permission to join.”
She said, “No. I lost my husband; I don’t want to lose my son.” She was afraid that if I joined the Church I would leave her.
I said, “I’m not going anywhere.” And then she hung up.
The missionaries fasted and prayed for me, and I did too. I called her again and said, “Please don’t hang up on me until I’ve really explained it.” She suggested that I study more and take some more time to decide. But I felt strongly that now was the time I should be baptized.
Finally she told me, “Son, if you are going to quit right in the middle, don’t do it. But if you will stay with it all the way through, then you have my permission.” That caused me to always take my membership in the Church very seriously.
I am grateful for my mother. I am grateful for Heavenly Father who allowed me to come into contact with the restored gospel. All the experiences I’ve had in the Church have been wonderful. But nothing compares with my depth of appreciation for the Savior, for His grace and mercy, and for what He has done for my wife and children.
When my son was called on a mission to Brazil, we took a father-son trip to the Sacred Grove in Palmyra, New York. We spent three days doing nothing but walking and talking there. On the final day we sat on a bench and bore our testimonies to each other. I shared my own conversion story once again with my son, and we cried. I hope his children and his grandchildren carry on this legacy of love and faith for years to come.

I discovered file-sharing software as a college freshman, and, however innocently, I quickly got caught up in the world of free downloads. I thought that since it was so easy, and seemingly without penalties, it was harmless. Before long, my hard drive was jammed with almost 1,000 of my favorite songs.

Then I started to wonder about the collection of songs on my computer. Every time I listened to them, I felt guilty for enjoying something I hadn’t paid for. As much as I loved my music, I just couldn’t feel right about keeping it. I finally deleted the software.

A few months later, I heard rumors that the record labels were filing lawsuits against people who used the same file-sharing software I had just removed. Some people were being fined more than $100,000! I couldn’t believe it.

After the shock wore off, I realized just how serious music pirating is. Fortunately, I had removed all my files before the legal battles began, so I didn’t have to worry about paying monetary damages. But I realized that I hadn’t gotten away without damaging my spirit. I had known stealing was wrong since I was a child, and yet I had convinced myself that somehow this was different.

Having heard the voice of the Shepherd, they fully committed their lives to living the gospel and following the direction of the Lord’s prophet. Responding to the call to gather to Zion, they left behind their home in England, crossed the Atlantic, and gathered with the Saints in Nauvoo, Illinois.
They embraced the gospel with all their hearts. While trying to get established in their new land, they assisted in the building of the Nauvoo Temple by tithing their labor—spending every 10th day working on the construction of the temple.
They were brokenhearted at the news of the death of their beloved prophet, Joseph Smith, and his brother Hyrum. But they carried on! They stayed true to the faith.
When the Saints were persecuted and driven from Nauvoo, Robert and Maria felt greatly blessed to receive their endowments in the temple shortly before they crossed the Mississippi River and headed west. Although they were uncertain of what their future held, they were certain of their faith and their testimonies.
With six children, they slogged through mud as they crossed Iowa on their way west. They built for themselves a lean-to on the side of the Missouri River at what came to be known as Winter Quarters.
These intrepid pioneers were waiting for apostolic direction on how and when they would be heading further west. Everyone’s plans were altered when Brigham Young, the President of the Quorum of the Twelve, issued a call for men to volunteer to serve in the United States Army in what came to be known as the Mormon Battalion.
Robert Harris Jr. was one of over 500 Mormon pioneer men who responded to that call from Brigham Young. He enlisted, even though it meant he would leave behind his pregnant wife and six little children.
Why would he and the other men do such a thing?
The answer can be given in my great-great-grandfather’s own words. In a letter that he wrote to his wife when the battalion was on its way to Santa Fe, he wrote, “My faith is so strong as ever [and when I think of the things that Brigham Young told us], I believe it about the same as if the Great God had told me.”
In short, he knew he was listening to a prophet of God, as did the other men. That is why they did it! They knew they were led by a prophet of God.
In that same letter, he expressed his tender feelings for his wife and children and told of his constant prayers that she and the children would be blessed.
Later in the letter, he made this powerful statement: “We must not forget the things which you and I heard and [experienced] in the Temple of the Lord.”
Combined with his earlier testimony that “we are led by a Prophet of God,” these two sacred admonitions have become like scripture to me.
Eighteen months after departing with the battalion, Robert Harris was safely reunited with his beloved Maria. They stayed true and faithful to the restored gospel throughout their lives. They had 15 children, 13 of whom lived to maturity. My grandmother Fannye Walker, of Raymond, Alberta, Canada, was one of their 136 grandchildren.
Grandma Walker was proud of the fact that her grandfather had served in the Mormon Battalion, and she wanted all of her grandchildren to know it. Now that I am a grandfather, I understand why it was so important to her. She wanted to turn the hearts of the children to the fathers. She wanted her grandchildren to know of their righteous heritage—because she knew it would bless their lives.