Gospel Story Finder

An area president and I were in a land where, to our knowledge, not one member of the Church lived among the millions of that nation. We met a man who had been a longtime student of the Bible. He belonged to a Christian church but was not satisfied with it. He thought that he should belong to a church that carried the name of the Savior. In an old encyclopedia, he had found listed The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He wrote a letter to Salt Lake City and received an answer with a Book of Mormon. Other literature followed as he requested it.
By the time that we met him, he had read the Book of Mormon again and again and knew that it was true. He knew that the priesthood had been restored with all its gifts and powers. He knew of various Church ordinances and the procedures of our meetings. Did he believe Joseph Smith to be a prophet of God? Most assuredly.
Our friend asked for baptism and hoped to receive the priesthood so that he could teach and act with proper authority.
“But,” we said, “if we baptize you and then leave, you will be left alone. There will be no one to teach you and help you.”
He responded, “God will teach me and help me, and He will be my friend and support.”
I looked into the eyes of that good man and saw the light of faith and testimony. We baptized him, confirmed him a member of the Church, and bestowed upon him the gift of the Holy Ghost. We baptized his wife. We conferred upon him the Aaronic Priesthood and ordained him to the office of priest so that he and his wife could have the sacrament.
We held a sacrament and testimony meeting with them. When we said good-bye to one another, we embraced them. I shall never forget him. I know little of his circumstances now, but this I know: When we talked with him, the fire of faith burned in his heart, and our own faith was quickened also.

Twenty-three year old Tom Monson, a relatively new bishop, before leaving home that night, had received a telephone call informing him that an older member of his ward was ill and had been admitted to the hospital for care. Could the bishop, the caller wondered, find a moment to go by the hospital sometime and give a blessing? The busy young leader explained that he was just on his way to a stake meeting but that he certainly would be pleased to go by the hospital as soon as the meeting was concluded.

Now the prompting was stronger than ever: “Leave the meeting and proceed to the hospital at once.” But the stake president himself was speaking at the pulpit! It would be most discourteous to stand in the middle of the presiding officer’s message, make one’s way over an entire row of brethren, and then exit the building altogether. Painfully he waited out the final moments of the stake president’s message, then bolted for the door even before the benediction had been pronounced.

Running the full length of the corridor on the fourth floor of the hospital, the young bishop saw a flurry of activity outside the designated room. A nurse stopped him and said, “Are you Bishop Monson?”

“Yes,” was the anxious reply.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “The patient was calling your name just before he passed away.”

He vowed then and there that he would never again fail to act upon a prompting from the Lord. He would acknowledge the impressions of the Spirit when they came, and he would follow wherever they led him, ever to be “on the Lord’s errand.”

I watched Jason dribble the ball down the court, weaving around two players from the other team while I tried to outrun the one guarding me. Jason leaped toward the side of the basket and shot. The ball teetered on the rim for a second before it dropped through the net.
“Go, Jason, go!” cheered a crowd of little kids. I should have felt happy because our team, the Jets, had finally tied the score. But I didn’t want to hear Jason’s name anymore. He always scored the most points and caught the most rebounds—and got the most cheers.
The big red numbers on the clock showed only one minute left in the game when Dave passed the ball to me. The court was clear. I dribbled the ball down the sideline, the sound of thundering footsteps close behind. I jumped as high as I could and shot, trying to bounce the ball off the backboard and into the net. It hit the rim and bounced off. So who caught the rebound? Jason. Who scored the winning basket? Jason.
It wasn’t easy being in the same fifth-grade class and on the same basketball team as a superstar. All the second and third graders knew Jason. They ran up to him on the playground and crowded around him like a fan club. I’d be famous, too, if I scored 15 points a game. Secretly I wished Jason would disappear. Then one day he did!
“Jason has to have his tonsils out,” Mrs. Litten told our class. “He’s going to be out of school for at least a week.”
Dave groaned. “Now we’re going to get trampled by the Kings,” he whispered to me loudly. “Our team will never win without Jason.”
“Maybe,” I whispered back. Mrs. Litten gave me a look that said, “Be quiet and do your work.” I tried to concentrate on my spelling words, but I kept thinking that maybe I’d finally have a chance to be the star. Maybe now the kids would shout, “Go, Taylor!”
Basketball practice was a disaster, however. I practiced shooting from the free-throw line, and only one ball swished through. And when I tried dribbling fast, I tripped over the ball. But I didn’t give up. I started practicing my free throws again. It wasn’t going to be easy to be famous.
On Wednesday, Mrs. Litten asked me to stay after class, and I wondered what I’d done wrong.
“Taylor, I have a favor to ask.”
“Yes?” I was curious now.
“Would you fill in for Jason tomorrow and Friday? He goes to the second-grade classes after lunch to help them with their schoolwork. They’re missing him.”
“Me?”
“Yes.” Mrs. Litten smiled. “You’re a good student.”
“Sure.” But I wondered what I was getting myself into.
The next day I walked into a second-grade class after gulping down my sandwich. When I saw all those faces staring at me, I was nervous. The teacher introduced me and told them that I played basketball with Jason. Suddenly everyone was asking me questions, and the time passed quickly.
Right before I left, little Angelica gave me a hug. “Tell me your name again,” she said.
“Taylor,” I repeated for the zillionth time—but I didn’t mind one bit. In fact, I felt fantastic!
“I need to know your name so I can cheer for you,” Angelica told me. “Just like for Jason.”
That’s when I figured it out. All the kids knew Jason because he helped them. It really had little to do with basketball! I thought that over.
That afternoon I had my own little cheering section at the game. I started grinning, but I wasn’t thinking about being famous. Instead, I was planning to bring some dinosaur stickers for Robby and a book about kittens to show Angelica. I planned to tell Mrs. Litten that I wanted to keep volunteering, even when Jason came back.
“Go, Taylor!” shouted Angelica, and I was glad I’d learned that some things are much better than being a basketball superstar!

After a few weeks of hard proselyting, my patience was wearing thin and I began to get angry at very small things. During a particularly discouraging day, I briefly scanned the pages of the March 1992 issue of the New Era. My eyes were drawn to the article “Flunked.” After finishing the story, I felt much better. I had been touched by the Spirit and the anger I was feeling was gone. That article has become a source of personal strength for me as I continue to share the gospel daily.
Elder Kevin HillChile Vina del Mar Mission

When I visited stake conferences as a member of the Twelve, I always took note of those stakes which had excelled in bringing to activity those brethren whose talents and potential leadership had lain dormant. Inevitably I would ask, “How were you able to achieve success? What did you do and how did you do it?” One such stake was the North Carbon Stake when President Cecil Broadbent presided. Eighty-seven men had been reactivated and, with their wives and children, went to the Manti Temple in the space of one year. President Broadbent, upon hearing my questions, turned to his counselor, President Stanley Judd, a large and good-natured coal miner, and said, “This is President Judd’s responsibility in the stake presidency. He will answer.”
As I restated my questions to President Judd, I concluded with the plea, “Will you tell me how you did it?”
With a smile, he replied, “No.” I was stunned! Then he said, “If I tell you how we did it, then you will tell others, and they will surpass our record.” I was still stunned. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, this wonderful man added, “However, Brother Monson, if you will give me two tickets to general conference, I’ll tell you how we did it.”
The tickets were provided; the success pattern was revealed. However, President Judd felt the contract was open-ended and asked for and received from me two tickets for each conference until he was eventually ordained a patriarch.
The formula was the same, generally speaking, in each successful stake with regard to this phase of the work. It consisted of four ingredients: one, put forth your efforts at the ward level; two, involve the ward bishop; three, provide inspired teaching; and four, do not attempt to concentrate on all the brethren at once; rather, work with a few husbands and their wives at a given time and then have them help you as you work with others.

As we look heavenward for understanding and help, we can find comfort in knowing that a loving Father will not leave us alone in our hour of need (see D&C 24:8). Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, speaking in October 1998 general conference, reported on his experience and thoughts following his third heart attack, which required bypass surgery. During the time he was lying in a hospital bed and later convalescing at home, he pondered the meaning of life and the eternities. As he endured physical pain, he also thought of the deeper pain and anguish of the soul. He came to realize how important many types of caregivers are to the healing process: doctors, nurses, therapists, a loving spouse, parents, children, and friends. “The Lord is the ultimate caregiver,” he reflected. “We must surrender ourselves to the Lord. In doing so, we give up whatever is causing our pain and turn everything over to Him” (“Healing Soul and Body,” Liahona, January 1999, 19).

The Light the World initiative encourages members to serve those around them and to share the light of the Saviour wherever they are. Being an example and a disciple of Christ comes with being able to emulate the Saviour.
Sister Bulelwa Cotyi, Mdantsane Ward 3, says that #LightTheWorld has helped her realize the importance of helping the elderly in her neighbourhood.
“I saw the importance of lending a helping hand to all those who are in need—especially the elderly. This initiative has made me realize that we have a responsibility to serve and offer a helping hand to all those who can’t help themselves. The advent calendar made doing these tasks fun,” said Cotyi.
Sister Nomawethu Dingaan from Mdantsane Ward 3 expressed her gratitude for the initiative because it helped her invite a friend to church, and she was later baptized.
“I shared [with her] the Book of Mormon story of how faithful Nephi was, and today she is a member of the Church. She has a calling and next year she is going to the temple. I am really grateful for the pass along cards and scriptures that I got to share with her,” said Dingaan.
Sister Somila Mhini from Mdantsane Ward 2 says that when the video came out, she shared it on Facebook and shared it with friends as well.
“When I shared the video, people were asking questions about what we believe in and what we do. Questions about the campaign came up as well and people were interested in coming to church. I also found that people got enlightened about our practices and they also saw that we all believe in one God and we could have conversations about God and the Saviour,” said Mhini.
Brother Uviwe Malgas served a mission in Uganda, and he participated in the campaign. He felt very close to the Saviour and the experience helped him grow.
“I enjoyed using the advent calendar and using the activities relevant for mission standards. I enjoyed participating because this helped me grow closer to God; I enjoyed helping those in need,” said Malgas.

Stacie Lloyd, 18, Draper 8th Ward, Draper Utah North Stake. Stacie entered BYU in the fall as a freshman. She needed to earn as much money as she could for college. She and her parents agreed that she would pay tuition, and they would help with housing and food.

Stacie had a regular job in a flower shop, but it was a slow time for florists and she was needed only in the afternoons. She got a second job working in the mornings at a local restaurant as a prep girl, making the salads and cutting up vegetables and garnishes. Since she is paid hourly, she didn’t always know precisely how much her paychecks would be. Here is what Stacie estimated her income and expenses would be for one month, and then what actually happened:

Estimate
Actual
Income
$495.00
$526.35
Expenses
tithing
49.50
52.64
savings
315.00
326.69
lunches
20.00
22.00
miscellaneous
25.00
33.69
gas
13.00
4.00
fun
35.00
35.00
clothes
35.00
37.00
total
$492.50
511.02

Stacie followed her plan fairly closely. She only had a few minor problems. She had used up her lunch budget by the middle of the month, so she chose to cut out going out to lunch to meet her plan. In the future, she may have to increase the amount she needs for lunches. Also in the miscellaneous section, she knew she had some expenses for girls’ camp and planned for them. What she didn’t plan on was the birthday cards she bought that month. That put her over in the miscellaneous section. She got a break on gas because she didn’t use the car as much. Stacie’s “fun” category was a little higher than normal because she and her friends had planned to go to a concert and she budgeted in the price of the ticket.

Stacie looked over the month and said, “It was good that I took my savings out first because I spent nearly every single penny I had left until my next paycheck. If something else had come up, I would have been stuck.”

Stacie also just opened her first checking account. She said, “I’ve heard the bad side, that you just write out checks all the time. But I keep forgetting my checkbook, and I don’t have cash very often. I know if I have cash I just spend it. My checking account actually kept me from spending sometimes.”

Now that she’s ready for college, Stacie says, “I wish I had started saving when I was in the ninth grade when I really didn’t have that much to spend my baby-tending money on. I wish I had always put half into savings.”

When Sister Little called to remind Sarah that the activity night honoring grandfathers was to be the following week, Sarah felt sad. She lived in Florida, and her grandpa was nearly three thousand miles away in California. She wished that he lived closer so that she could take him to the Tuesday night party.
“It isn’t fair,” she told her mom later. “I don’t have anyone to take to the party.”
Mom stopped stirring the spaghetti sauce and looked at her. “I’ll go with you,” she said.
“But the party is for grandpas,” Sarah said, her eyes filling with tears.
When Dad came home from work, Sarah sat on the arm of his chair and said, “I need to talk to you about something very important.”
Dad closed the newspaper, folded it, and took off his glasses.
“It’s about Grandpa Night,” Sarah said. “I don’t have anyone to go with me.”
“Well,” said Dad, “I’ll take you.”
“No thank you, Dad. I want to go with Grandpa.”
“I could put on a gray beard and talk in a shaky voice,” Dad said, making Sarah laugh.
During dinner, Mom asked, “What have you decided to do about Grandpa Night?”
“I don’t know,” Sarah answered.
“I’m sure there’s a grandfather in the ward who would be happy to take you,” Dad said.
Sarah liked her father’s idea, but she was worried about finding someone who wasn’t already invited. The following Sunday before sacrament meeting began, she looked all around the chapel. She saw Brother Brumley, but he and Sister Brumley were sitting with four of their grandchildren. She and Brother Blackwelder were great friends, but Brother Blackwelder was holding a granddaughter on his knee and straightening his grandson’s tie.
As Sarah continued to search for a temporary grandfather it seemed to her that everyone she wanted to ask was sitting together in family groups. Then she saw Brother Fitzpatrick sitting alone at the end of a pew near Sarah and her family. But he never spoke, and he never smiled. Sarah was afraid of him because once, when she had accidentally bumped into him in the hall, Brother Fitzpatrick had looked sharply at her under his shaggy eyebrows and cleared his throat loudly. She had been so frightened that she had hurried to her CTR-A class and sat in the chair closest to her teacher. While Sarah was remembering that day, Brother Fitzpatrick saw her looking at him. She smiled, but he just pressed his lips tightly together and looked away. Sarah went home sadder than ever.
“Mom,” she said, “I don’t want to go Tuesday night.”
“Why don’t you ask Brother Fitzpatrick?” Dad said. “He’s fairly new in our ward. I believe his family lives on the West Coast, and he’s here all alone. I bet he’d like to go with you.”
“I’m afraid of him!” Sarah wailed. “Besides, he’d never say yes.”
“Sarah, we can’t look at others and know what’s in their hearts,” Sarah’s mother said. “Why don’t you ask Heavenly Father about inviting Brother Fitzpatrick.”
Sarah loved to say her evening prayers. She told Heavenly Father all the happy things that happened during the day. It was also the time when she talked to Him about the things that worried her. So that night when Sarah knelt at the side of her bed, she told Heavenly Father about her problem. “Heavenly Father,” she said, “Dad wants me to ask Brother Fitzpatrick to go to Grandpa Night with me. But he always looks so grumpy, and one time, when I bumped into him in the hall, he said, ‘Grrmmph!’ Heavenly Father,” she continued, “I’m afraid of him. I don’t think that he likes me. Should I ask Brother Fitzpatrick?”
Sarah waited quietly by her bed for Heavenly Father’s answer, just as she did whenever she had a question. Soon a familiar, warm feeling filled her heart.
But the next day after school, when it was time to make the telephone call, she did not feel so happy.
“Why don’t you call now?” Mom suggested.
“I think I should do my homework first,” Sarah said.
After her homework was finished, Dad said, “Sarah, why don’t you call Brother Fitzpatrick before dinner?”
“I need to clean my room first,” Sarah said.
During dinner, Mom asked, “Have you made your phone call yet, Sarah?”
“Maybe I’d better take my bath first,” Sarah said.
After her bath Sarah couldn’t think of any more excuses. She took the ward directory from the top desk drawer in the family room and began to look for Brother Fitzpatrick’s phone number.
“I don’t think he has a telephone,” she told Mom when she couldn’t find the number.
“Here,” Mom said. “Let me help you.”
Sarah dialed slowly. She heard the phone ring once, then twice, then a third time. Maybe he’s not home, she thought. But on the fourth ring, Brother Fitzpatrick answered. “Hello?”
“Hello,” Sarah said very softly.
“Hello!” Brother Fitzpatrick said again, this time in a loud, gruff voice. “Is anyone there?”
“It’s me—Sarah from church. I just called to see if you would go to Grandpa Night with me.”
Brother Fitzpatrick did not answer.
“Oh, please say yes,” Sarah said, talking quickly. “When I asked Heavenly Father about asking you, I felt happy about it. My own grandpa lives faraway, and I miss him.”
When Brother Fitzpatrick answered, his voice wasn’t gruff anymore. For a moment Sarah thought that he might even be crying. “My son and his wife live in Oregon,” he said at last, “and I miss my three granddaughters terribly. Sarah, you remind me of Laura, the youngest one.”
“Oh,” Sarah said.
“I’ve been very lonely since I moved here three months ago. Your call is an answer to my prayer to Heavenly Father to send me a friend in the ward. Thank you, Sarah, for asking me. I’d love to go with you.”
At the party, Brother Fitzpatrick told jokes that made Sarah and the other children laugh. He and Sarah had fun playing the games, and they sat side by side when they ate chicken potpie and apple crisps. He showed her pictures of his three granddaughters, and she told him about her grandpa in California. Sister Little asked Brother Fitzpatrick to tell a Book of Mormon story, and he told about Jesus and about the Nephite children being encircled by angels in a ring of fire. Sarah was proud and happy that Brother Fitzpatrick had come to the party with her.
That night Sarah told Heavenly Father about all the fun that she had had at the party, and she thanked Him for her Florida grandpa.

Nearly all 147 youth in the Logan Utah Central Stake signed their names to a scroll, committing to read the Book of Mormon in a six-month program started by the stake. The scroll was sent to President Benson, who replied with an encouraging letter.

Several ward and stake events were held to motivate and encourage the youth committed to reading. There were ward reading marathons, Book of Mormon bowls, and special speakers. Yet with all the fun, hard work, laughs, and catch-up reading, something extra began to happen. Solid testimonies of the Book of Mormon were being built, along with a lifelong habit of reading the scriptures.

At the completion of the reading program, the youth gathered at the stake center to bury a time capsule. Among the items included were letters written by the youth to future generations. The youth couldn’t help think about how Moroni must have felt as his words to future generations were etched in the plates and buried. The letters by the youth spoke of their testimonies and encouraged future readers to try out Moroni’s promise about the Book of Mormon for themselves. The Logan Utah Central Stake youth found out that Moroni’s promise does work after they did their part: reading, pondering, and praying.

When President Spencer W. Kimball was 15 years old, he attended stake conference and heard a speaker ask everyone who had read the entire Bible to raise their hands. I heard President Kimball say, “I cared not what others were thinking. I knew that I had not read it and I was filled with shame.” After the meeting was over, he ran home as fast as he could, grabbed the Bible off the shelf, and climbed the stairs to the attic. His brothers teased him, saying, “Why try? You’ll never finish it.” But he did. Almost a year later he finished reading the Bible. The integrity he had as a 15-year-old boy was one of the things that made him a great prophet of God.

One day my instructor was giving an explanation to five of us in the ready room. In order to explain a certain maneuver, he went to the blackboard. Inasmuch as he was smoking a cigarette, he handed it to me to hold while he made the demonstration, and by this means I had the “privilege” of holding my first cigarette. After he had finished his demonstration at the blackboard, he took his cigarette back, and then he said, “Mr. Bangerter, I apologize for handing you my cigarette. I know you don’t smoke, do you?”
I said, “No, sir, I don’t.”
He said, “You don’t drink either, do you?”
I said, “No, sir.”
He asked, “Do you drink tea?”
“No, sir.”
“Do you drink coffee?”
“No, sir.” He turned to the other four students standing together and said, “Now, men, that’s the Word of Wisdom. We would all be much better off if we lived that way.” You can appreciate that I felt uplifted by that experience.

On 100-year-old Polk Street, teenagers are more often seen cruising than cleaning, but the youth in the Amarillo Texas Stake changed all that with a special service project.
In conjunction with the city’s “Help Beautify Amarillo” project, the teenagers decided to restore some pride to this historic section of town. They came armed with tools and soap to get rid of graffiti, broken bottles, and other litter. About 50 youth participated in the activity that was planned as part of the Stake Standards Night.
This was such an unusual activity for teenagers in this area that it attracted the attention of the local media and was reported on the front page of the paper. Many community leaders commented on the willingness of the youth to work for their community and expressed gratitude to them.
After the project was finished, they headed for the stake center for dinner and a program on individual self-worth, followed by a dance.

In 1830 Samuel also sold a copy of the Book of Mormon to Brigham Young’s brother: Phinehas (or Phineas) Young, a Methodist preacher. When he first met Samuel, Phinehas was returning home on horseback from his preaching circuit. He had stopped at a farm for dinner. As he and the family were visiting, a young man, dressed in rough clothes, entered the room. Book in hand, the young man said to Phinehas, “There’s a book, sir, I wish you to read.”
“Pray, sir, what book have you?” Phinehas asked.
“The Book of Mormon, or, as it is called by some, the Golden Bible.”
“Ah, so then it purports to be a revelation?” Phinehas asked.
The young man opened the book to the testimonies of the Three and Eight Witnesses and said, “Here is the testimony of the witnesses to the truth of the book.”
Phinehas read their testimonies. When Phinehas looked up from his reading, the young man said, “If you will read this book with a prayerful heart and ask God to give you a witness, you will know the truth of the work.”
Phinehas promised to read the book. Then he asked the young man’s name.
“My name is Samuel H. Smith.”
Phinehas had seen that name! “Then you are one of the witnesses.”
“Yes,” Samuel said. “I know the book is a revelation from God, translated by the power of the Holy Ghost, and that my brother, Joseph Smith, Jr., is a Prophet, Seer, and Revelator.”
After arriving home Phinehas told his wife, “I have got a book here called the Book of Mormon, and it is said to be a revelation, and I wish to read it and make myself acquainted with its errors, so I can expose them to the world.”
True to his promise, he read the Book of Mormon—twice in two weeks. Rather than finding any errors, he became convinced the book was true. On Sunday, when his congregation asked for his opinion of the book, “he defended it for ten minutes, when suddenly the Spirit of God came on him with such force that in a marvelous manner he spoke at great length on the importance of it. … He closed by telling the people that he believed the book.”
That summer, the Young family, including Brigham, and their friends the Kimballs read the Book of Mormon and believed it.

I was raised in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but in college I decided that I didn’t need the Church anymore. I began a shallow, selfish search for “truth” in other places. Finding no answers that brought me peace or joy, I fell into a deep spiritual darkness. I felt that I would never be happy again.
However, I could still see that I had been happier when I was active in the Church. I began to go through the motions of Church activity, hoping to find some deliverance from the gloom that controlled my life. But my halfhearted efforts did not accomplish much. I focused on my studies, hoping they would distract me from the emptiness I felt. This helped temporarily, but it provided no real answer.
After stumbling around and realizing I was going nowhere, I decided to take a break from school and to travel. I had saved a little money but not enough to last very long. Before leaving, I resolved to exercise some real faith and pay tithing on my modest savings. This wasn’t easy. I would be far from home, and soon I would be broke. Still, I hoped there was a God, and I knew that I would need His help.
I wrote a check for my tithing, sent it to my bishop, packed my Book of Mormon, and set off. Almost immediately I felt the warmth of the Spirit. I was amazed to feel my doubt and sorrow replaced with understanding and optimism. From Idaho to Washington, D.C., members of the Church reached out to me and, more important, helped me to develop faith and righteous desires. It seemed like home was all around me.
After a short time, I knew I would be cutting my travels short—not for lack of money but because a much better journey awaited me. Returning home, I met with my bishop and stake president. With their help, I was soon serving the Lord as a missionary.
Now each time I pay my tithing or meet with Church leaders, I remember the “beginning” of my true conversion. Since then I have experienced ups and downs, but I have worked to remain spiritually strong. I will always be grateful for Heavenly Father’s accepting my meager offering of faith and extending His loving arm to me.

To you deacons, may I say that I recall the time when I was ordained a deacon. Our bishopric stressed the sacred responsibility which was ours to pass the sacrament. Emphasized were proper dress, a dignified bearing, and the importance of being clean inside and out. As we were taught the procedure in passing the sacrament, we were told how we should assist Louis McDonald, a particular brother in our ward who was afflicted with a palsied condition, that he might have the opportunity to partake of the sacred emblems.
How I remember being assigned to pass the sacrament to the row where Brother McDonald sat. I was fearful and hesitant as I approached this wonderful brother, and then I saw his smile and the eager expression of gratitude that showed his desire to partake. Holding the tray in my left hand, I took a small piece of bread and pressed it to his lips. The water was later served in the same way. I felt I was on holy ground. And indeed I was. The privilege to pass the sacrament to Brother McDonald made better deacons of us all.

A group of missionaries, also in Jamaica, understood their duties to teach the gospel to everyone who would hear their message. As all missionaries are, they were very dependent on their monthly checks from home, but in Jamaica the banking rules dictated that after the checks were presented at the bank for cash, a two-month waiting period had to elapse before the cash could be provided. This was very inconvenient and frustrating to the missionaries, and they agreed that it would be impossible for them to continue to endure such an arrangement. They would have to do something about it—and do something they did! The bank manager was taught the gospel, was baptized, and as a result the check-cashing problem was magically solved. Those elders knew their duty and accomplished it with faith and diligence.

Elizabeth Ann Butler was born on the 10th of May 1846 in Norfolk, England, only 16 years after The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was organised by the Prophet Joseph Smith in Fayette, New York.
In the early 1850s, Elizabeth’s family joined 90,000 gold rush migrants across the world to Victoria, Australia. They settled near Bendigo in 1853, when Elizabeth was seven years old.
Sadly, her family did not make their fortune in the gold rush. By the time Elizabeth was an adult, her parents had both left the family. She was raised mostly by her uncle, was unable to attend school and often worked long hours on his farm.
Elizabeth married a Chinese farmer, but he was also lured away by the gold rush and left her to raise their eight children with only her housekeeping and sewing skills. Times were difficult.
Although illiterate, Elizabeth knew the value of education and found creative ways to learn. She was determined to give her children more opportunities to elevate themselves than she had received. For example, she had her young sons read the daily newspaper to her, and they became good readers by the time they started school.
At 53, Elizabeth seized another learning opportunity. She and her daughter Jessie were walking down the street in Bendigo when a man in a black coat and top hat introduced himself as a missionary from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He offered them a book and said it would teach them God’s plan for His children. Elizabeth always eagerly accepted free books, but this one would change their lives.
All through that night, Jessie read The Book of Mormon to her mother, and the Holy Spirit affirmed to them this book was true.
Elizabeth and three of her children were baptized on 2 February 1902. A couple years later, her two grandsons were baptized.
The family eventually moved to Melbourne, where they connected with other members of the Church. It was a haven for them to be around like-minded people. Elizabeth was especially touched by the warm welcome they received from the sisters, who opened their homes for Sunday meetings and generously provided meals.
Although they were not organised as part of the official Relief Society organisation yet, the sisters worked together to cook, sew, and coordinate fundraising efforts for a new chapel. Elizabeth felt a companionship with these women that she had never known before.
Meanwhile, World War I broke out. To help connect women with each other during that challenging time, the Church published its Relief Society Magazine, which became an important resource for the sisters in Melbourne. They discussed its articles, poetry and stories as they gathered to knit socks and prepare parcels for soldiers in Europe and the Middle East.
Elizabeth’s two grandsons had enlisted to serve in the war. Her son Horace also enlisted and was sent to the Middle East as part of Australia’s Light Horse regiments.
Church attendance dwindled as more brethren were called to military duty. Soon, it was up to the women—Elizabeth and her friends—to keep their small branch together. The sisters looked forward to their weekly meetings for spiritual renewal and social and personal upliftment.
By the end of the war, almost every family in their area had lost a brother, a husband, a son or grandson. For Elizabeth, it was her grandson William Wallace Cameron Butler who died in the Battle of Fromelles. The bond amongst the sisters in the branch grew even stronger as they supported each other through the heartbreak. Then they began rebuilding their lives.
President Arnold Miller was called to lead the Victorian Conference—what we would now call a district. One of his first objectives was to support the official organisation of Australia’s Relief Society, under priesthood direction.
The first Relief Society meeting in Australia was held in Victoria on 15 July 1921. By 1923, Elizabeth was amongst the 22 sisters enrolled in the Melbourne Branch Relief Society. These were happy times where sisters could strengthen and feel strengthened.
In later life, Elizabeth hesitated to talk to her children about her childhood—her story was too sad to tell, she would say. Yet, the seed of faith that she allowed to be planted in her heart had grown beyond measure. In her wake, descendants for whom Elizabeth set the example, have been stalwarts in wards and stakes, faithfully building the Church wherever they live.
Through the lens of this humble lady’s life, we can look back at the beginnings of the Relief Society organisation in Australia and see through her legacy its true purpose: to prepare women for the blessings of eternal life, to strengthen individuals and families and to unite to help those in need.

His courageous and daring faith is shown in another incident. He was called to serve a mission in England. After a difficult journey from Far West, Elder Taylor arrived in New York with only one cent in his pocket. But he was the last man to plead poverty, and in answer to questions if he had money, he said he did. So the next day Elder Parley P. Pratt (the man who baptized him) approached him:
“Brother Taylor, I hear you have plenty of money?”
“Yes, Brother Pratt, that’s true.” “Well,” said Elder Pratt “I’m about to publish my ‘Voice of Warning’ and ‘Millennial Poems;’ I am very much in need of money, and if you could furnish me two or three hundred dollars I should be very much obliged.”
“Well, Brother Parley, you are welcome to anything I have, if it will be of service to you.” At that he put his hand in his pocket and gave Elder Pratt the penny. A good laugh followed and then Elder Pratt said, “But I thought you gave it out that you had plenty of money.” “Yes, and so I have,” replied Elder Taylor. “I am well clothed, you furnish me plenty to eat and drink and good lodging; with all these things and a penny over, as I owe nothing, is that not plenty?”
That evening at a council meeting of some of the brethren preparing to go to England, Elder Pratt proposed that the brethren assist Elder Taylor with means to pay his passage, since Wilford Woodruff was waiting for Elder Taylor to go with him. At the close of the meeting, Elder Taylor objected and said if they had anything they should give it to Parley Pratt because he had a family to support and needed money for publishing. Wilford Woodruff, a great man of faith himself, expressed regret at Elder Taylor’s position. Then said Elder Taylor: “Well, Brother Woodruff, if you think it best for me to go, I will accompany you.” “But where will you get the money?” asked Elder Woodruff. “Oh, there will be no difficulty about that. Go and take a passage for me on your vessel, and I will furnish you the means.” Elder Woodruff did as he was asked—and then from various persons who were moved upon by the Spirit of the Lord, voluntary donations, unasked for by Elder Taylor, came into him, sufficient for him to not only pay his passage but that of another elder.

Having virtually no quantitative skills, I was seldom if ever able to help our children with math and scientific subjects. One day our high school daughter Nancy asked me for “a little help” regarding a Supreme Court case, Fletcher v. Peck. I was so eager to help after so many times of not being able to help. At last a chance to unload! Out came what I knew about Fletcher v. Peck. Finally my frustrated daughter said, “Dad, I need only a little help!” I was meeting my own needs rather than giving her “a little help.”