Gospel Story Finder

At a conference championship game of American football, Joseph B. Wirthlin had what he called “a defining experience” during a crucial play.
Illustrations by Ben Sowards
“The play called for me to run the ball up the middle to score the go-ahead touchdown,” he said. “I took the handoff and plunged into the line. I knew I was close to the goal line, but I didn’t know how close. Although I was pinned at the bottom of the pile, I reached my fingers forward a couple of inches and I could feel it. The goal line was two inches (5 cm) away.
“At that moment I was tempted to push the ball forward. I could have done it. … But then I remembered the words of my mother. ‘Joseph,’ she had often said to me, ‘do what is right, no matter the consequence. Do what is right and things will turn out OK.’
“I wanted so desperately to score that touchdown. But more than being a hero in the eyes of my friends, I wanted to be a hero in the eyes of my mother. And so I left the ball where it was—two inches from the goal line.”1 Elder Wirthlin (1917–2008) later served as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.

Nikki and Breck Fullmer quarreled constantly. Most of their fights were about Nikki borrowing her brother’s T-shirts, and Breck playing music at home that his sister didn’t like. Nikki and Breck were both looking for a way out of their conflicts when they decided to participate in their stake’s “Time Alone” experiment.
Nikki knew her brother liked to drink soda pop, so she invited him to go get one with her. He thought it was a fine arrangement, since she was buying. After the soda they talked and drove around for an hour. After just one rendezvous, Nikki said, “He’s at a stage where he’ll do just about anything to be cool. And now he thinks it’s cool to be with me.”

Christy Richins of the Roy Utah Ninth Ward and Brandon Nelson of the Morgan Utah Sixth Ward have taken either first place or grand champion trophies in five states for clogging, a type of dancing.
The two have been clogging together for two years, winning numerous trophies and performing at the Worlds Fair in New Orleans.
To win as grand champions is a particular honor because the first-place winners in each division compete against each other for the grand championship.
Christy and Brandon choreographed their own prizewinning number and have practiced long hours perfecting it.

A single friend of ours who lives alone broke her shoulder and needed help. Word soon spread throughout her ward, and ward members brought dinners by the dozen so that she had to tell them to stop because her refrigerator was overflowing. One of them was a nearly blind sister who crossed a busy street with a hot dinner on a tray. Another sister volunteered to help clean her apartment. Seeing our friend’s reluctance, she countered, “How else can I show you that I love you?” Another sister who helped with grocery shopping saw the bright side of our friend’s accident as she pointed out, “This opportunity has brought us close to each other again!” These sisters all had the vision of the work the Savior had in mind for them to do.

One day at school, one of my teachers taught a lesson about Utah, USA, in our geography class and said some things about the Church that were wrong. I thought, “Should I correct him in front of everyone, or should I go up to him privately after class?” In that moment, the words of my seminary teacher came to my mind. She had said, “Do not argue with or offend anyone when someone says wrong things about the Church.”
I felt that I should remain quiet and respectful during class. When I visited with him afterward, I told him that I was a member of the Church, and I corrected him on the incorrect things that he had taught in the class. He said, “I didn’t know you were a Mormon. Thank you for telling me.” Afterward he corrected his lecture to give accurate information, and he still treated me with respect. I was grateful for the counsel I’d been taught through my seminary teacher.

Despite our best efforts to raise children who love the Lord, follow His commandments, and live happy, productive, and healthy lives, our sons and daughters sometimes go astray. Straying can mean involvement in drug abuse, criminal activity, immorality, and even abuse of parents and others. Other forms of drifting, perhaps less serious but nevertheless troubling, include underachieving, dropping out of school, and finding little purpose or happiness in life.
Typical parental reactions include sorrow, despair, desperation, depression, feelings of guilt and unworthiness, and a sense of failure. In such circumstances, parents may also experience anger and withdrawal and may feel like simply giving up. These reactions usually make matters worse, deepening the problems they face.
My wife and I have friends who, because of their son’s behavior, have suffered almost every emotion identified above. The past five or six years have been a hideous nightmare for them. They have tried every possible approach, even placing their son in expensive rehabilitation programs in which he typically lasts only a week, despite his good intentions.
The father shared his lament and his hope in these words: “There is no how-to book for parents with young people like our son. You pray to the Lord that He will guide your thoughts and your actions, and you hope you will make wise decisions.” He and his wife, firm in their faith, declare: “We have the ultimate hope that because he has been sealed to us in the temple, the bonds of eternal covenants will be stronger than the bonds of the adversary that now seem to grip his life. We live with hope that the day will come when he will return to his eternal family and repent of his way of life.”
Our friends represent thousands of others in similar circumstances who are meeting challenges almost beyond their capacity to endure. Trials of parenthood are most often associated with children’s growing-up years, but these challenges can arise with children of any age. As parents, we don’t cease our concerns when our children reach adulthood.

“I have heard that only 2 percent of the population is born with extraordinary talent. Most people have to work to become good!
“Let me give an illustration: Half a century ago a boy of ten was working in Naples in a factory. He longed to be a singer, but his first teacher discouraged him.
“‘You can’t sing,’ he said. ‘You haven’t any voice at all. It sounds like shutters.’ But his mother, a poor peasant woman, put her arms around him and told him she knew he could sing. She could see an improvement already, and she went barefoot in order to save money to pay for his music lessons. That peasant mother’s praise and encouragement changed her boy’s life. He was to become one of the world’s greatest tenors. His name was Caruso.
“You mustn’t give false praise, but instead, be like this mother and find the good. Then give your sister the genuine praise that she seeks.”
Bruce Wendell BarkerJacksonville, North Carolina

While serving as a bishop, I witnessed the blessings of the Atonement in the lives of Church members who committed serious transgressions. As a judge in Israel I listened to their confessions and, when needed, placed restrictions upon them, such as not partaking of the sacrament for a time.
A young single adult in our ward was dating a young woman. They allowed their affections to get out of control. He came to me for counsel and help. Based on what was confessed and the impressions of the Spirit to me, among other things, he was not permitted to partake of the sacrament for a time. We met regularly to ensure that repentance had happened, and, after an appropriate time, I authorized him to again partake of the sacrament.
As I sat on the stand in that sacrament meeting, my eyes were drawn to him as he now partook of the sacrament worthily. I witnessed arms of mercy, love, and safety encircling him as the healing of the Atonement warmed his soul and lifted his load, resulting in the promised forgiveness, peace, and happiness.

July 11. Our family got back this morning from a three-day trip to Buck’s Lake. I called Billy to see if we could get together, maybe go to a Saturday matinee or hike in the hills or something. His mother said he could not play … because he’d died two days ago. She began to cry, and Billy’s father got on the phone. He told me that Billy had seen a neighbor’s puppy in the street, and when he ran out to carry it to where it would be safe, he’d been hit by a car. It wasn’t the driver’s fault, Billy’s dad said. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. It just happened. I asked Dad if he could give me a blessing of comfort. I guess I’m having a hard time dealing with it.

When President Russell M. Nelson was sustained as the new prophet, I wondered how I would ever feel as much love for him as I felt for President Monson! But Heavenly Father knew the desire of my heart, which is to develop as much love for each of the men He calls to lead His Church. And I believe that He wanted me to continue to have experiences that would allow me to do that.
Soon after he was called, President Nelson sent Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles to meet with the youth of Haiti. I was happy at the idea of going to see him. I wanted to know for certain if he was truly called of God.
After a long journey, I arrived in my country’s capital and took my seat in the building Elder Renlund was meeting us in. When he entered the room, I felt a gentle warmth fill my chest. He began his talk by saying that it was President Russell M. Nelson who had sent him to visit us. In that moment I knew that God knew that we needed to feel the love and support of the new prophet, and He allowed us to have that opportunity.
When Elder Renlund asked for a volunteer to read the introduction of the Book of Mormon to the group, I felt the Spirit so strongly—I stood up without even being aware of what I was doing. I walked up to the stand and stood close to the Apostle to read. My heart instantly began beating so quickly, and I cannot even articulate in words the strength of the Spirit I felt. It was like God’s presence was in the room, and it was an incredible feeling to experience. At that moment, all my questions and doubts flew away. I knew that Elder Renlund was truly an Apostle called of God. I felt a great love for him—and for the prophet who had sent him to speak to us.

Within days of arriving in Europe, Sister Taylor and I, still living out of suitcases in a small hotel room in Germany, were scheduled to attend a mission presidents’ seminar in Amsterdam, Holland. As we drove to and from the seminar, as arranged by the Regional Representative, we set out to meet our leaders in western Europe. We drove an hour each way into a small village to bless a leader and his family. We went to their homes. In each home we met a lovely wife and handsome children. We ate at their tables, slept as invited, and in each case knelt in prayer and blessed their homes, their families, their callings, and the area for successful missionary service. I now know our leaders there. I felt a genuine love for them, and I felt the same response from them.
You have those feelings of approaching in some small degree the indescribable joy of the celestial glory. He that loses his life shall save it. (See Luke 17:33.) My well of spirituality has indeed been deepened.

Beth Lancaster, a Mia Maid, had been going to church for years with her member friends before she was baptized. One day, when Beth was 13, she asked her friend, Megan Rasmussen, if she could take the discussions. Beth says, “I wouldn’t have asked her if it hadn’t been for all my friends’ examples and the joy they had in their lives.”
“I saw the examples of the Rasmussen family and the Bromley family and how happy they were and how much love they had in their lives,” Beth says. “I decided I wanted some of that.”
Sixteen-year-old Jake Bromley, one of Beth’s good friends, says, “You never know when somebody will be looking at you, wondering why members of the Church are so good and what makes them so happy. Be a good example 100 percent of the time.”

My dear brethren, my spirit is subdued and my heart is full tonight as I stand before this great body of priesthood and realize that there are thousands upon thousands in other gatherings throughout the Church, and as I contemplate the responsibilities that have been placed on my shoulders.
After receiving my call the other day, I was asked by President Lee if I was shocked. I had difficulty replying. Being shocked was an understatement. I might say that the aftershocks have been much more severe than the original. Notwithstanding this, I have faith and look forward with great anticipation and enthusiasm to the future.
I do this because I know that God lives. I know that his Son, Jesus Christ, the Savior of mankind, is the head of this Church and that he is actively directing the affairs of this, his Church today, through his prophet, President Joseph Fielding Smith, who has just borne witness in such a powerful way of his calling and also of mine.
I also know I have been called by the Lord through his prophets, as President Smith announced, and that if I will repent of my sins, He will bless me and strengthen me for the tasks ahead. If I did not know these things to be true, I would not have the courage nor the temerity to accept such a call. Even knowing this, it is frightening to contemplate assuming such a sacred trust.
The last ten and one-half years under the direction of a great leader, Bishop John H. Vandenberg, have been wonderful indeed. I have been associated with him as a member of my stake presidency when I served as bishop of the Denver Fourth Ward, as a fellow counselor in the Denver Stake presidency, and now for more than ten years as one of his counselors in the Presiding Bishopric. I want him and you to know that I love and appreciate him. He is a man of great ability. I am deeply grateful for having had the privilege of being his counselor.
Bishop Simpson, as first counselor in the Presiding Bishopric, has made a great contribution to the Church, as evidenced by the love the people everywhere have for him. He is a man without guile.
And now I am deeply grateful to two wonderful high priests for their dedication and total commitment to the Lord, which caused them to respond to the call to complete the Presiding Bishopric as my counselors.
In approaching the task of selecting counselors, I sought the inspiration of the Lord in prayer. I reviewed hundreds of names of worthy brethren, any of whom could have been called. The two who were called were the ones the Lord wanted. You witnessed confirmation of this truth as you listened to their testimonies in the first session of this conference.
We recognize our dependence on our Heavenly Father in assuming the responsibility as your Presiding Bishopric. We have but one desire and that is, to accomplish the work of the Lord in his own way and in his own time, for we recognize that this is his Church. We are his servants called to assist him in accomplishing his purpose, which is “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” (Moses 1:39.)
The Presiding Bishopric functions under the supervision and direction of the First Presidency, who constitute the presidency of all the priesthood throughout the world. Under their direction and through their delegation, the Presiding Bishopric presides as the presidency of the Aaronic Priesthood throughout the world.
The Aaronic Priesthood is the lesser priesthood. It is a preparatory priesthood preparing its holders for the greater or Melchizedek Priesthood. Therefore, the Presiding Bishopric’s responsibility is to support and sustain the presidency of the Melchizedek Priesthood by assisting in the preparation and qualifying of young men to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood.
In this regard we sustain the inspired prospective elders program that has just been introduced. There are tens of thousands of wonderful adult male members of the Church who hold the Aaronic Priesthood or who have not been ordained whose spiritual welfare has now been assigned to the elders quorum presidencies of the Church. This program is, and will become even more so, a great blessing to these brethren.
As I now reflect on the responsibility that has come to me as the president of the Aaronic Priesthood, I recall some of my feelings as a boy. I am humbled by the many blessings the Lord has granted me through the Aaronic Priesthood.
I remember with some clarity the thrill of passing the sacrament as a deacon in the Cardston Second Ward, Alberta Stake, in Canada. That same thrill returns each time I am invited to pass the sacrament to the General Authorities in our monthly meeting in the Salt Lake Temple.
I remember how I considered it an honor to participate in such a sacred service. I remember so well how my parents taught me that my hands and heart should be clean and pure so that I would be worthy to participate in this ordinance.
The greatest of all lessons was the example my father and mother set for me. Next was the example of my deacons quorum adviser, who was also my Scoutmaster. Brother Ben Wood was the epitome of what leaders of boys should be. Every boy under his leadership felt his great love. His influence was not limited to Sunday morning or Tuesday evening; it was felt all through the week. I shall ever be grateful to my deacons adviser for the lessons of life he taught me as a twelve-year-old deacon, lessons that have helped me from that day until now.
Many young men throughout the world are having experiences today similar to those I had as a twelve-year-old boy. All of you, whether you are twelve years of age or older, have the opportunity to experience these wonderful things.
The foundation on which each boy begins is recognition that he is in very deed a son of God, with something of the divine in his soul. All men are children of God, but you have something more. You have the authority to act in his name. This sets you apart from the rest of the world. It does not automatically make you better than others, but it gives you the responsibility to live a better life than others.
Because you know you are a child of God and hold his priesthood, more is expected of you than of those who do not have this great blessing.
I have been thrilled as I have met young men of the Aaronic Priesthood throughout the Church who have a comprehension of the great blessing and honor that is theirs by virtue of this priesthood and who have consequently begun to build their lives on a sure foundation.
I was in the Pago Pago Stake in American Samoa. President Peters, the stake president, invited me to accompany him to one of the ward sacrament meetings. We arrived unannounced, so there were no special arrangements made.
It was a hot, humid day. As we approached the humble, one-room chapel with no air-conditioning, I suggested it might be appropriate to leave our jackets off. President Peters was quick to tell me that they wore jackets in sacrament meeting in their stake—no matter what the temperature—as a means of showing the Lord that they not only worshiped him but they also honored and respected him by being dressed in their very best.
As I took my place on the stand, there sat the priests and deacons at the sacrament table. Each had on a shirt, tie, and jacket. It was so hot and humid.
The normal dress of the islands is very casual, as you know, but in the eyes of these wonderful Samoan leaders and their Aaronic Priesthood boys, participating in the sacred sacrament service was not a casual experience. It was a sacred duty. They felt that their appearance helped show the respect and reverence they had for the Lord. I shall never forget their influence of reverence in that meeting. Surely their understanding of their relationship with Heavenly Father is an important step in magnifying their priesthood.
One day several years ago, I attended the finals of an Aaronic Priesthood scripture contest in Sao Paulo, Brazil. These were the finals in a mission-wide contest held under the direction of President Wayne Beck. Sitting on the stand, acting as judges, were the district counselors. Gathered in small groups through the chapel were the contestants. As they were called up before the judges, they were challenged to repeat from memory scriptures selected at random by the judges and then to explain the meaning of each scripture.
I witnessed as much enthusiasm and excitement among these teams of young men of the Aaronic Priesthood as one normally sees at a basketball or soccer game. Because of the location, it was not as vocal, but it was just as intense. It was fun for them to make the scriptures become a part of themselves.
After a meeting with some of our servicemen in Da Nang, South Vietnam, one man in battle dress came up to me and asked if I would write a letter to his parents, who were nonmembers, explaining to them the great honor that had come to him that day. He said they knew nothing about the Church and asked, “Bishop Brown, would you mind telling them what a great honor it was for me to be ordained a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood today?”
Some time ago in New York City a fine-looking young man said to me, “It isn’t easy to be a Jew and a Mormon.” When this young man was baptized, his parents were so displeased they held a formal funeral. As far as they are concerned, their son is dead.
How important it is that all young men of the Aaronic Priesthood recognize their responsibility as priesthood holders and, as President McKay used to say, act accordingly.
And now a word to fathers, bishops, and other Aaronic Priesthood leaders, with emphasis for the fathers. With a feeling of brotherhood and love, we the Presiding Bishopric lock arms with you in the great causes of youth. Never has there been a finer generation of young people.
I have a conviction that the spirits of this generation were held back by the Lord to come forth at this time because they are special spirits. And yet the world into which they have come is filled with evil and temptation. Satan is at work with his legions. We who have been called—in the home and in the Church—to lead the youth have a sacred responsibility to them.
Regarding the home, the Lord has said in the Doctrine and Covenants:
“And again, inasmuch as parents have children in Zion, or in any of her stakes which are organized, that teach them not to understand the doctrine of repentance, faith in Christ the Son of the living God, and of baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost by the laying on of the hands, when eight years old, the sin be upon the heads of the parents.
“And they shall also teach their children to pray, and to walk uprightly before the Lord.” (D&C 68:25, 28.)
The first responsibility rests with the parents. The position of the Church is to aid the parents and the family, not to replace them.
Bishops, you are the presidents of the priests quorums, and with your counselors you are the presidency of the Aaronic Priesthood in your wards. These young men need your leadership. They need your attention, for you have a special calling with a special blessing. You have the power of discernment. You are common judges in Israel.
If you will take the time to become involved with these young people and see that they become involved with you, you can become saviors on Mount Zion to many. You are the ones, along with the other leaders in the wards and branches, who make the difference.
We want you to know of our love and support for you. We are grateful to the Lord for each of you and pray our Heavenly Father’s blessings upon us all that, through our united and devoted leadership, we may help every young man in this church honor his priesthood so that not one of these precious children of God will be lost. I pray this humbly in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Lynn and Jim wiggled their toes as the oozing, sucking sand completely buried their feet in the middle of a galloping white wave. As the wave slid back into the sea, the two laughed at the sight of their feetless legs. They looked like two pairs of skinny straws drinking up sea foam.
“It sure doesn’t seem like Christmas, does it?” said Jim.
“No, it sure doesn’t,” his sister agreed. “California isn’t at all like Michigan.”
Lynn and Jim had lived in Michigan all their lives until one day Dad had announced that they were going to move to California. The whole family had been excited at first because they had never been to California. But now Lynn and Jim missed their old friends and the woods where they used to play. It was Christmastime, but there was no snow to play in, no frost to nip their noses when they went caroling, not even any icicles hanging from the rooftops to look at. They missed the proud pheasants and redbirds that came to feed in their backyard, and the frisky squirrels that played tag in the sugar maples. Here at the sunny beach it was hard to remember that it was Christmastime.
Lynn stooped to pick up a shiny white shell. “These shells are awfully pretty, though. Let’s see how many we can collect.”
Soon they had collected so many shells that they could hardly carry them all.
“You need a bag,” said a voice behind them. Turning around, Lynn and Jim saw the oddest-looking couple that they had ever seen. Both had sunburned faces with more wrinkles than a hound dog. The woman’s hair was a scraggly gray mass tucked underneath a patched straw hat; she was carrying a plastic bag. Her dress was shapeless and worn. His clothes were even scragglier, and he was carrying two fishing poles and a small, battered creel. The woman removed a couple of old books from her bag and handed it empty to the children.
“Thanks,” said Jim, dumping the shells into the bag. “But don’t you need it?”
“Oh no,” the elderly woman assured him. “I have plenty more at home.”
“Do you live near here?” Lynn asked.
“Our home is only about a half mile that way,” the elderly man said, pointing up the beach. “We like to come down and read and fish once in a while. We don’t ever catch much. But today we got lucky and founded something special.” He carefully pulled a small, star-shaped object out of his creel.
“It’s a starfish!” Jim exclaimed, reaching out to touch the dead creature.
Lynn gently took the starfish from the man, admiring it. “There are all kinds of beautiful things to collect on this beach,” she declared. “You know, we’ve never collected shells at Christmastime before. We just moved here from Michigan.”
“Well, Christmas is the very best time for collecting shells,” the woman told them.
“I’d rather have snow at Christmas,” Jim complained. “It’s not Christmas without snow.”
“Now, there’s where you’re wrong,” the man responded. “Do you have any pails and shovels?”
“They’re back there.”
“Well, if you’ll get them, there should be enough time before it gets too dark for you to help with one of our favorite Christmas traditions.”
Lynn and Jim ran over to a sagging sandcastle and grabbed up the spoons and cans that they’d been using to build it.
“Now,” began the man as they returned, “have you ever seen a sand tree?”
“Noooo.”
“Well, we’ll show you how to build one.”
Soon the foursome had scooped up piles and piles of wet sand into a mound as high as their arms could reach. Then they began shaping it, first into an upside-down ice-cream cone, then into a fir tree with tiers of branches.
Lynn and Jim were delighted. “Let’s decorate it with our shells,” Lynn said.
The elderly man smiled. “Now you have the idea.”
Carefully, Lynn and Jim placed their shells on the tree. Some were pearl-colored with orange around the edges. Others were dark blue and lavender. They were shaped like fans, teardrops, icicles, and buttons.
“Oh, wait till Mom and Dad see it!” cried Lynn.
“Why don’t you bring them here later, and we’ll have a bonfire, too,” suggested the woman.
Lynn and Jim rushed home to tell their parents all about the sand tree and their new friends.
By the time the family returned with blankets, a huge thermos of hot cocoa, and a plastic container filled with sandwiches, darkness had set in. The elderly couple had already started the bonfire near the sand tree. In the firelight, the shells gleamed like tiny moons. And there was a surprise—on top of the tree shone the little starfish.
“Ohhhh!” they all gasped. The sand tree was too splendid for words. Lynn and Jim quietly sat on a blanket close to the fire and gazed up at the Christmas starfish. Then Lynn nudged Jim and nodded slightly toward the elderly couple. The woman had on a raggedy shawl; the man, a threadbare jacket. They were both shivering.
Jim and Lynn got up; then Jim took their blanket and placed it around the couple while Lynn and their parents poured the cocoa and passed around the sandwiches. After he’d eaten, the elderly man began to sing in a deep voice:
“O holy night,
The stars are brightly shining;
It is the night of the dear
Savior’s birth. …”
The woman’s clear voice joined in on the second line, and Lynn, Jim, and their parents began singing also. Before long, other people who lived along the beach were gathering around the sand tree, singing. Before they knew it, Lynn and Jim had almost forgotten about snow and sleigh rides.
“You can have the Christmas spirit any place,” whispered Lynn.

Of course, informal, friendly visits are often the most effective. “Three Sundays ago, my wife and I visited a family,” says Milton F. Marin president of the San Jose Costa Rica Stake. “‘I’ve known you for years,’ I said. ‘You’re special to me. I want you to return, and the Lord wants you to return. He loves you.’ I challenged them to come the next Sunday. They did, and have come every Sunday since. They’re coming to our home for a picnic!”

I remember the story of Emma Smith trying to escape the persecution in Missouri. The Mississippi River was only partially frozen—not enough that a wagon with people and their possessions could travel on it. It is a wide river, and it was dangerous to cross. Emma had a six-year-old child holding onto one side of her skirt, an eight-year-old on the other side, a two-year-old in this arm, and an infant in that arm.

The sister-in-law of one of Joseph’s scribes had sewn cotton bags that buttoned around the waist. In those bags under her skirt, Emma carried the only copy of Joseph’s translation of the Bible, which he had been working on for months. With the documents and with her children, she took one step after another across that frozen river, hoping she wouldn’t fall in.

To me, that is the consummate signal of courage and faith—that when you need to do something for what you believe, you just move forward, one foot in front of the other.

Another Latter-day Saint in the same stake, Richard G. Murray of the First Ward, was honored with a similar plaque from the same organization for saving the life of an automobile accident victim. When his family heard a noise behind the house, they rushed outside to find a car upside down and filling with water in a drainage ditch. Brother Murray scaled a six-foot fence and slid down the embankment to rescue a woman caught in her seat belt. Moments more and the woman might have drowned. Sister Murray tied a garden hose to the fence and threw it down to help both victim and rescuer climb up the slope to safety.

I once interviewed a woman for baptism who had been guilty of a very grievous sin. During the interview I asked if she understood that she could never repeat that sin. With deep emotion in her eyes and in her voice, she said, “Oh, President, I could never do that sin again. That is the reason I want to be baptized—to cleanse me from the effects of that terrible sin.” Hers is a story of redemption.

I grew up in a dangerous part of a big city. One day I was walking to school with some money in my pocket. The coins jingled as I walked.
I had to walk past some older boys who were in a gang. I tried to look confident. I tried not to be scared. But they heard the jingling sound. They wanted the coins and started chasing me.
I ran as fast as I could to get away. I turned down an alley. I could see light at the end of the alley, so I ran toward the light. Soon they stopped following me, and I was safe.

One young man changed forever my feelings about the value of that gift, and what it means to be a child of promise. Bob Allen was an undergraduate at Stanford University when I was his bishop. He left his schooling to serve a mission in Japan. He came back to school, took up his studies, and lived in a world of too many demands and too little time.
One day I was sitting at my desk in the graduate school of business at Stanford. I looked up and saw two people. I remember that their faces seemed to shine. Suddenly, Bob Allen stepped between them and, smiling as broadly as they were, said, “These are two new bishops from Japan.” They could speak little English, but I could tell they loved Bob Allen and, because of something he must have told them, they loved me. I thought then, as I have many times since, how remarkable it was that he had found time to spend days with those young men from Japan.
I spoke in a sacrament meeting in Tokyo ten years later. The person who had introduced me mentioned that I had been at Stanford. Two young people, a couple, rushed to me after the meeting and said, “Did you know Bob Allen? We love him.”
Later I was in Tokyo again. Of all the excellent presentations made to me, one seemed most remarkable. I asked to see the man who had made it. He was introduced and then said, “We have met before, at Stanford University.” He was the young man, now older, who had stood with his fellow bishop in my office door. He told me about his life, and the life of the other man, now a great leader in Japan. In that moment, I learned again, in my heart as well as my head, what it means to have a royal inheritance of time, and how a child of promise, who believes the promises, can invest it to produce returns for eternity.