Gospel Story Finder

Imagine this scenario: Your friend hasn’t been herself lately. Usually she’s upbeat and fun, but now she doesn’t want to do things that she used to have fun doing. You were surprised when she decided to stay home rather than go to a dance last Saturday. Every time you see her now she seems sad, withdrawn, and irritable. And this has been going on for a while.
As you think about it, you realize your friend was always a good student, but last week she didn’t turn in her history paper for the third time in a row. It’s like she’s lost her motivation. She says she feels tired all the time but can’t fall asleep at night and mentions how she always feels sad but doesn’t know why. She’s been this way for a while, and you’re worried she might be depressed.

“I thought that when I got baptized six years ago, my parents would become interested in the gospel and agree to be baptized, but that didn’t happen. One day I read the scripture, ‘He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me: and he that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me’ (Matthew 10:37). I adored my parents, so I wondered how I could love the Lord more than them.
“My parents weren’t against me joining the Church, but sometimes they would feel bad when I would spend more time reading the scriptures or going to church instead of doing things with them on the Sabbath. And explaining why I didn’t do certain things on Sundays anymore was hard.
“We had a bit of friction, but the more I read the scriptures and the more I got to know the Savior and my Heavenly Father, the more my love for my family grew. And I knew that if I followed Jesus Christ, my family would be blessed. I decided to put Him above all other things. Needless to say, things between my family and me continue to get better. I know that if I am obedient to the Lord, He will continue to bless my family and me.”
—Magaly Perez, Coahuila, Mexico

Before the trek began, youth and adults spent hundreds of hours building handcarts, welding wagon wheels, sewing clothing, preparing food, and planning. The youth, wanting to make the trek their own, put much of their own effort into the preparations.

Kaylene Forbes, a Laurel of the Soldotna Ward, said, “I did a lot of sewing to prepare for the trek. The skirts and the aprons weren’t very difficult, but the bonnet was hard. After I was finished, though, especially on the trek, I was glad that I did everything myself.”

Each handcart “family” was led by a young man and young woman, called a Pa and Ma, and were also accompanied by adult leaders. The Mas and Pas even arrived early for special training.

“We worked hard,” Brother Forbes, Soldotna’s Young Men president, said. “Hundreds and hundreds of hours, but it was worth 100 times the effort that went into it. It was better than we could have ever dreamed.”

Throughout the trek, efforts to bring to life 19th-century pioneers included a mock Mormon Battalion march and a women’s pull, but no one could plan for one disheartening element they had in common with the pioneers—the weather. One of the original handcart pioneers, John Southwell, who traveled in the Haven handcart company crossing Iowa in 1856, records that they experienced hail, rain, wind, and ankle-deep mud.

One hundred and fifty years later, when the Alaska participants reached the trailhead on the first day of their trek, rain gushed down. The long, muddy trail wandered up tall hills, and the handcart wheels sunk in deep sand.

On the third day, the group awoke to a terrible storm with winds blowing more than 50 miles per hour. Pegs pulled loose, tents collapsed, the rain pounded down, and dark clouds covered the entire sky. Fearing that the weather would stop the trek, the leaders knelt in prayer. President Randy Eberline of the stake presidency asked the Lord to calm the storm. Throughout the camp, trek families also knelt and prayed for relief from the weather. Suddenly, the clouds parted and a bowl of warm sunlight shone down. Kelly Maxwell, a priest from Sterling, described the answer to their combined prayers: “President Eberline prayed for there to be sunlight, and I was also hoping and praying that it would work. Minutes later we saw a break in the sky, and we started to see blue and then the sun just came out of the clouds.”

Kaylene described it this way: “The wind stopped, and you could see the clouds parting and the sun coming out. It was like seeing Moses parting the Red Sea, except this time God parted the clouds for us.”

Brother and Sister Matt and Jodi Clark arrived that evening to speak at a fireside. They reported that on the 100-mile drive from Anchorage it had been pouring rain. As they crested the last hill before reaching the camp, they saw the most incredible sight. Sunlight flooded the camp while the rest of the sky, as far as they could see in all directions, was full of dark clouds.

James Barrett, a priest from the Kenai Ward, said, “It was wonderful to feel the sun again, the warmth and the light that brought encouragement and hope. It was a miracle. It was as if the Lord had stretched out his hand and protected us from the harsh weather by surrounding our camp with sunlight.”

The next day included special devotionals, a memorial fireside, and a testimony meeting, solidifying the spirit of the experience. It started with a devotional in the wilderness for each handcart “family.” At the devotional the youth received a letter written by their parents. Some of the youth later said that during this quiet time they received their first witness of the truthfulness of the gospel. Cyril Zufelt, 17, of Soldotna said, “When I got my letter, I was touched. That was a huge turning point in my life. I’m never going to forget it.”

Then, after walking for several miles, the group was halted by the trail boss who instructed each person to pick up a rock. In a valley between two large hills, they held a special memorial service dedicated to all of the pioneers left behind on the trail, especially those of the Martin and Willie handcart companies, who had lost so many to the early winter weather and starvation. Each person placed their rock on a small memorial of the earlier pioneers. Sister Meyer remarked, “I couldn’t believe how hard it was to walk past that little memorial and think of the families that left loved ones behind. I don’t know how they had the strength to do it.”

As they packed up their tents, put away their bonnets and suspenders, and returned to inside plumbing, the youth took away more than blisters and soggy hiking shoes—they took with them an appreciation for the Saints who traveled 150 years ago and 3,600 miles away. Most of all, they took with them a stronger testimony of the gospel.

Lyssa DaVaney, a Laurel in the Homer Ward, said, “When I left for the trek, I knew that I would be coming back. The pioneers knew they would never go back to their homes again. The trek was such an awakening experience for me. I learned so much about the pioneers, Heavenly Father, and myself. I wouldn’t trade my experience for anything.”

Our parents were happy for us to join the Church, but they wanted no part of it. My sister and I tried our best to regularly attend church meetings, but it wasn’t easy, especially with competing influences in our home. For example, we often had to choose between going to sacrament meeting and spending Sunday at the beach with our family.
But Fiasili and I worked to strengthen each other’s testimonies. We thought that if our parents could just accept the gospel, we wouldn’t have to live in two worlds. So, we invited the missionaries to teach them. In the process, our younger brother—and many of our cousins who lived with us—joined the Church.
It took a little longer for my parents. My sister was serving a full-time mission in Suva, Fiji, when our mother finally got baptised. Our father had actually been a less active member for many years, and it was such a joy to see them both start coming to church with us.

Illustrated by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Wow! It’s spring! Look at the beautiful flowers!
Do you think maybe we should thank Somebody for the flowers?
Sure. Thanks for planting the flowers, Mommy.
You’re welcome. Who else should we thank?
Thanks for spading up the flower bed, Daddy.
There’s still Somebody else.
Thanks for not digging up all the flowers, Digger.
You’re teasing Mommy, aren’t you?
And thanks for the beautiful flowers.

I have prayed for guidance regarding a personal experience I might share with you, and again and again I have felt impressed to share with you the following. I pray you will hear the message that is intended.

A few years ago I was having some serious medical problems. I scheduled myself into a hospital for some routine presurgery testing. I’m not sure I even told Jeff I was going in for the tests. To begin, they injected an iodine dye into my vein prior to taking X-rays, and I had a severe allergic reaction. I went into anaphylactic shock. All my bodily functions stopped. Three doctors and two nurses worked frantically to revive me. At one point during this struggle I came to enough to hear one of the nurses read my pulse which was slower then my father-in-law’s had been when he went into a coma and died.

I knew I was dying, and I knew I needed someone with absolute faith. I called out for my husband and fell unconscious again.

It dawned on them that they should have called him anyway, but they simply had been preoccupied with my condition. A nurse ran to a phone to call him. All she said to him was, “We are doing all we can for your wife, and now she wants you.”

In less time than it takes to get to the hospital, he arrived and bolted into the emergency room rather than wait outside as someone had suggested. With his usual confidence (which I have silently watched develop as his relationship with the Lord has deepened), he sort of shoved three doctors and two nurses aside and announced, “I don’t know whether any of you are LDS, but I am going to give my wife a blessing.” Midway through that blessing I opened my eyes, saw his face, and thought I had never seen anything so beautiful. And I told him so. (Later he told me this was the only evidence he had found of any brain damage.)

I add my personal witness that prayer, including priesthood prayer, is the proof of our faith. And the proof is rewarded by the Holy Ghost (and holy power) which Nephi said “will show unto you all things what ye should do” (2 Nephi 32:5). There are miracles of faith, and we should have faith in the miraculous.

Vicky was curious when she arrived at the Rowes’ house on Sunday. First they sang a song. One of the children said a prayer. Then Mr. Rowe prayed and passed bread and water to each person. They said it was called the sacrament. After that their daughter Jessie gave a talk.
“Heavenly Father loves us. He speaks to us through the Holy Ghost,” Jessie said. “Sometimes the Holy Ghost gives us a peaceful feeling. Or sometimes He gives us a thought.”
The next day, Vicky walked to the store to buy bread. On her way home, she was about to pass by some trash cans when a voice in her mind stopped her. Stay away, it said.
Vicky stood still. Suddenly, a car came spinning around the corner. CRASH! It slammed into the garbage cans.
Vicky took a deep breath. She was so glad she listened to the voice!
Later, Vicky told Mrs. Rowe the story. “Was that the Holy Ghost?”
“Sounds like it. Sometimes the Holy Ghost warns us of danger.”
“God protected me,” Vicky said. “I’ll always listen to the Holy Ghost.”

Dear Reed,
Guess who came to see us—the Brooks family! They were on vacation. They went to the temple and were sealed as a family. Bobby told us about when you baptized and confirmed him. He said that when you blessed him, you said that someday he would be sealed to his family in the temple, and now that’s come true.
We all went out to dinner together. Elder Watts came with us. He’s been home from his mission for almost a year. He said that you were a great companion and a hard worker.
The Brooks family went to church with us too. We sat between them and Sam’s family. Bobby went to our Valiant class with Sam and me. After the lesson, we played blackboard baseball, and Sam and Bobby and I won! If Sam or I didn’t know the answer, Bobby did. He’s learned a lot about the gospel.

I received my patriarchal blessing and was counseled to serve a mission because the Lord reserved a special blessing in my mission that would change my life forever. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew I would understand in time if I was obedient.
I served in the Brazil Curitiba Mission from 2000 to 2002. Through my association with a particular companion, I was able to go to the United States to study. I knew this would indeed change my life forever. I knew my Heavenly Father was aware of me and had a specific plan for me. This opportunity to further my education was an answer to my prayers.
I knew that it would be challenging to learn a second language, but I also knew it was possible if I worked hard enough. I studied at the Brigham Young University English Language Center and spent up to 10 hours a day in the library. One of my teachers suggested we pray for the gift of tongues, so every night I prayed and asked Heavenly Father for this gift. He certainly helped me.
After I completed my studies at the English Language Center, I was accepted at several universities. I decided to attend Brigham Young University–Idaho and apply for the nursing program. I heard that it was very difficult to get into the program, especially for international students. So I studied my hardest. My friends teased me, saying I should move into the library because I spent so much time there. Even when it closed, I went home and kept studying.
When times were difficult, I remembered the words of President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008): “You need all the education you can get. Sacrifice a car; sacrifice anything that is needed to be sacrificed to qualify yourselves to do the work of the world.”1 I knew those were the words of a prophet of God, and I took them seriously.
When I was accepted to the nursing program, my heart filled with gratitude and happiness. I knew it would be hard and I would have to continue to make sacrifices, but I knew the Lord would be with me.
While in school, I met my husband, and we were married in 2007. My mother also joined the Church that year. She told me that she had never known why I was so happy, even with all the terrible things that had happened to us. But once she joined the Church, she understood. The gospel of Jesus Christ has blessed my family, and I’m happy to see my mother blessed after all the sacrifices she has made. I will always be grateful for her.
By the beginning of 2010, I was preparing for graduation—and was pregnant with our first child. Two months before I was to graduate from the nursing program, I had complications with my pregnancy, and our baby was born via cesarean section. My teachers told me I should take time off from school and graduate later. But I was so close—only two months away!
So my husband and I carefully organized our time so we could properly balance our priorities and I could complete my education. I scheduled my study time so I could give my husband and our son the attention they needed. Sometimes my husband’s parents stayed with our son while I was in class. Two great classmates helped me review class materials. I felt that the Lord had sent all of these people to support me through this difficult time.
After graduation I passed the state certification exam and started working as a nurse to help support our family while my husband completes his education. Even though I am not planning on working once my husband starts his career, if a tragedy or economic hardship requires me to work in the future, my education helps me feel prepared to do so.
Mom was right: education does have the capacity to change lives. It has changed mine, and it will change the lives of my children. I hope they will realize that I am successful because I followed the Lord’s plan for me. He wanted me to get an education, and He helped me every step of the way. I hope my children learn how to work like I did and that they come to value education as much as I do.

Other personal and family preparedness projects were also carried out, including one planned to help an inactive family clean up their home, which President Kimball has asked all of us to do.

This eight-member family lived in a little ten-by-twelve-foot one-room home with a dirt floor, two double beds, a small table, and a small kerosene stove. There was neither electricity nor running water.

The branch welfare services committee organized to solve the problem. The Relief Society sisters carried many buckets of water to clean the house. They helped the family take the furniture outside in the sun and remove the accumulations of years.

Home teachers and other priesthood brethren assisted in the repairing of the furniture.

The welfare services missionaries participated by giving lessons on cleanliness and personal hygiene.

Another way the missionaries were of assistance to the branch was through presentations of special lessons, such as baby care, to the Relief Society sisters. They have taught principles and techniques in family health care. The sisters have now learned to make their own clothing and to use sound judgment in shopping.

These activities have increased the sisters’ love for Relief Society, and now, for the first time, regular visiting teaching has become a reality.

The children have also benefitted from the personal and family preparedness projects in Bermejillo. The mothers now make sure the children are well groomed before sending them to Primary.

Older children are developing teaching skills as they help younger children learn the lessons of the gospel.

The missionaries have found that just by being an example to the children they teach them important principles. Children have learned of President Kimball’s counsel about saving money for their missions. They also now spend any of their extra pesos on fruit rather than candy.

Nonmembers have been influenced by the example of members in Bermejillo, and a number have been taught the gospel.

As the branch grew, the rented facilities became too small for them. So President Castañeda obtained permission for the use of this plot of land [slide shown], upon which to build a chapel. Other branches in the mission had met with extreme difficulty in obtaining such permission, but the village officials in Bermejillo were aware of the accomplishments of the branch and were pleased at the prospect of having a chapel built here.

A small, temporary, adobe chapel has been erected on the property and is now serving while the Saints raise their share of the funds for their new meeting place, which they have been authorized to build.

Much of their portion of the money is being earned through branch projects. Every Tuesday and Thursday the Relief Society sisters divide into small groups to make doughnuts and tamales. They then sell them in the parks or door-to-door. One of the sisters reported how difficult it was to sell door-to-door, but she said, “We want our chapel, and we are willing to do whatever it takes to earn enough money.”

To date they have met all their commitments, and the construction of a chapel on this site is scheduled to begin before the end of this year.

What we have just reviewed is a marvelous example of what can take place in any Church unit, regardless of circumstances, when the leaders and members begin to understand fully and live the basic principles of welfare services. In four short years, look what these Saints have accomplished. They have begun to raise gardens and store their produce, paint their homes, plant trees and flowers, build toilet and shower units, clean and fix up the interiors and exteriors of their homes, purify their water, properly prepare their food, and provide more nutritious diets for their children.

Beyond this, the members have extended the hand of fellowship by helping inactive families solve their temporal problems, by friendshipping nonmembers, and by setting a good example of Latter-day Saint living.

The spirituality of this branch has been enhanced through increased member activity, better preparation by class instructors, more effective home and visiting teachers, additional converts to the Church, branch projects, and personal sacrifice. It is interesting to note that there has been more than a tenfold increase in the per capita fast offering donations from this small branch over the past four years.

The principles of love, service, work, self-reliance, consecration, and stewardship are all evident in the accomplishments of the branch in Bermejillo. Indeed, these members are well on their way to establishing the ideal of Zion.

I am persuaded that any ward or stake in the Church can experience the same kind of success as the branch in Bermejillo. It will come as a result of organizing welfare services committees and of teaching and living the basic principles of welfare services. Many wards and stakes have their own resource people to call on, but where local resource people are not available, welfare services missionaries may be called through proper channels to assist Church units in emerging areas where temporal problems are critical.

May each of us catch the vision of welfare services as these Saints have in Bermejillo. By working together we can fully establish the latter-day Zion. That we may do this, I pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

I was at the grocery store with my mom and my brothers. We got to the checkout stand, and my mom was paying for our groceries. I saw that my two-year-old brother was holding a bag of doughnuts that my mom forgot to pay for. Before we left the checkout line, I told my mom that she had forgotten to pay for the doughnuts. She was thankful that I had been honest, and I felt very happy that I did the right thing by speaking up.

Whenever I heard the bell ring for lunch, I dreaded going to my locker. My locker was at the end of the hall, so I had to hurry to catch up with my friends. Every day was the same. I always ran into my tormentors just as I was about to reunite with my friends.
The group of six girls would pass me, swearing at me, calling me names, and openly loathing my existence. Though I pretended not to care, day by day the names and taunts tore at my heart and caused my self-esteem to plummet.
“Why me?” I thought. Out of everyone in the school, why did they single me out? I had never done anything to any of them, yet I was their victim.
Every day I would come home from school, torn apart. My mom would faithfully sit me down and pick up the pieces of my tattered self-esteem. She told me she loved me and that the girls were just jealous. I only nodded, not believing her in the slightest.
Often I would flee to my scriptures. Nothing brought relief as they did. One day I read Matthew 5:44, “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.”
That night as I knelt in prayer, I changed the words I usually spoke. Instead of asking the Lord to help me avoid or conquer my “enemies,” I asked Him to bless them. I asked that they would know they were loved and that they might be as lucky as I was to have the true gospel that could help them.
I continued to pray for them every night. I knew they were so lost, so miserable with life. What would it be like to be in their situation? I prayed and prayed. It seemed nothing was happening.
Just as I was ready to give up all hope, I received a call from my friend’s mother. She asked me to come to a new-member discussion with a girl my age so she could get to know some girls in the ward. I agreed, willing to help and excited at the idea of a new friend.
I got to my friend’s house a little early. I was ecstatic to meet the new girl and welcome her. I’ll never forget my feelings when the new girl walked in and we made eye contact. It was her, the ringleader of my tormentors. We awkwardly shook hands and sat at opposite ends of the room. The lesson went quickly. I cannot remember anything that was said.
As I sat in my room that night, I was so full of emotions I thought I would explode. Confusion, embarrassment, joy, and discomfort all crowded into my being.
At first this girl and I kept our distance at church. I still harbored negative feelings about her, and I didn’t know what to say when we encountered one another. I felt that way until the day she bore her testimony. It was so strong and passionate. I knew I should try harder to be her friend. She had such a love for the gospel, and I wanted that for myself, more than I already had. I began to compliment her and make small talk every time we met.
Though it took another year and a half for us to become friends, I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything. I have such a love for her now. Her testimony and quiet strength amaze me. The change I saw in her leaves me in awe. She is my living witness that our prayers are answered.

They’ll tell you about the area’s religious climate and how it once turned chilly. Ideologically speaking, Welch and Pineville are located somewhere near the buckle of the Bible Belt. There’s a church on almost every block. Families can trace their membership in one congregation or another back for generations. These devout neighbors have sometimes had a little trouble accepting the Christian credentials of the Latter-day Saints.
A couple of years ago an anti-Mormon group sprang up in the area, preaching against the Church over the radio and in local congregations. The members responded with an unusual tactic—love. Instead of arguing, they showed increased friendship for their detractors. Instead of boycotting the businesses of these people, they went out of their way to patronize them. They prayed sincerely for the members of the group, both in meetings and privately. They came to dearly love their critics, because the branch had never been more united. As for the opposition group, it melted away without a trace, and some of the Church’s bitterest enemies became its friends.

Now, fast forward to several years ago and consider three young men who also answered a call from the prophet at approximately the same age of 19 years and came to the Missionary Training Center as missionaries. For some reason they couldn’t quite grasp why they were there and immediately started having problems. As their branch president, I received reports that they were causing problems in their classes and doing other inappropriate things. Although they were companions, I met with each of them individually, discussed these problems, and challenged them to remember who they were and who they represented and, if nothing else, to simply look at the Savior’s name on their badges on a regular basis as a reminder. A week later I received a report that things had not improved. So on a Sunday I met with them again and went over what was and wasn’t appropriate. That same day they went back to their room and played what turned out to be a very inappropriate prank on another missionary, which led to more serious consequences. At this point, the decision from Church headquarters in Salt Lake City was that they apparently were not ready to be representatives of the Church and needed to go home.

In both cases, three young men had answered a call, but each set chose to take different routes. What was the difference? Two of the words that come to mind are agency and perspective.

Each year our players work as camp coaches for young players who love the sport and often have dreams of someday attending and playing soccer at BYU. Most of our players attended camps when they were younger, so they know how exciting it is for young campers to come and hang out with them for a week. In fact, I first met several of the current players on our team at camp when they were only ten or eleven years old.

One summer several years ago we had a young girl attend who was shy but also uncooperative, and she didn’t want to participate in the drills or games with her group. A couple of my players who were coaching her weren’t sure what to do with her. I mentioned that maybe they should just spend a little more time with her, get to know her, and sit with her at lunch or dinner. I told them that maybe she just needed a little extra love and attention.

The girls did a great job, and toward the end of the week she was much more engaged in the training and seemed to be having a lot of fun with her team.

A week or so after the camp, I received a thank-you note from her mom, explaining that this young girl had not wanted to come to camp. Her mom basically had made her attend. Obviously, this is one reason why she had gotten off to a rough start. Her mom went on to explain that her daughter loved soccer but was from an area where there weren’t any members who played, and she was slowly losing interest in attending her Young Women group, seminary, and even church on Sunday. It was becoming a battle for her parents to keep her moving in the right direction.

Her parents thought maybe it would be good for her to be around some members of the Church who also loved soccer. Her mom was quick to point out that her daughter’s experience at camp that week had been life changing. Her daughter had found new motivation, inspiration, and direction. She wanted to be like the campers and players on the team and go to BYU someday.

She continued to attend camp for several summers after that. Although she was never quite at a level to play college soccer, she was inspired at a young age to make good choices during her high school experience, and she ended up attending BYU.

Brothers and sisters, I did not grow up with these teachings. I didn’t always understand who God was or my relationship with Him. Growing up in Las Vegas, I was surrounded by negative influences. Some of my closest friends and family became involved in drugs, gangs, and criminal activity—some even lost their lives.

Hope was not easy to hold onto—and it was sometimes hard to find. My bedroom became my safe place—a space in which I could escape the chaos around me and reflect on my life. It was the place that led me to know who God was. There was a turning point in my life when one night, feeling confused and discouraged, I opened my heart completely to Him, sharing all my fears and questions with Him.

Suddenly an overwhelming feeling of peace and hope came over me. It was as if I heard Him say, “Jamal, things will be okay. Have hope in me. It will all work out.”

I felt that the darkness that had filled my room and my mind at the time was taken over by a bright light of hope and by the love of God.

That moment changed my life. It was that light of hope that prepared me to choose BYU over all the other universities.

When I arrived at BYU, the light here felt familiar to me, and it continued to get brighter in my life. My hope became greater, and the love of others became deeper and more meaningful. This led me to my baptism into this wonderful Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And my life has become anchored in Jesus Christ ever since.

When Caroline was five, she woke between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. for many nights in a row. One night after this unwelcome wake-up call, I wrote this:
As I was changing her diaper just now, I was absentmindedly singing one of the [Primary] songs that Lizzy [our older daughter] has declared we shall now sing for bedtime every night. … “God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be.”2 And I looked at Caroline and suddenly the words came to the forefront of my consciousness.
God gave me a family—including this 2:00 a.m. waker—to help me become what He wants me to be. … “This is how He shares His love,” the chorus continues, “for the fam’ly is of God.”
That night I felt a brief, blessed communion with God, a confirmation that He was, in that moment, personally aware of me and Caroline and our family. He loves us. And He, my Father, gave me encouragement by teaching me why we face such challenges: “to help us become what He wants us to be.”

Imagine you are visiting Africa. As you look at wild animals through your binoculars, you notice a shape coming toward you. It’s an eagle owl! As it gets closer, you hold up your arm to defend yourself. But instead of attacking, the owl gently lands on your arm, making little noises and looking at you for a moment before taking flight once more. This really happened to President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He loves animals and especially birds.

Twenty-one years ago last April, I came for the first time to the Salt Lake Tabernacle for a general conference of the Church. I was awed by the immensity of the building, but even more by the room-filling presence of the General Authorities who were assembled there.
In my growing-up years, many of them had visited our small branch in Montana. We had no television, nor could we receive conference on the radio. So we looked forward to each visit as a special blessing. They had, it seemed to me, a power and faith above other men.
Then on an April day 21 years ago, I discovered one source of a General Authority’s strength.
I was seated with the six children of Elder Ezra Taft Benson, one of whom was my college roommate. My interest heightened when President McKay arose and announced the next speaker. I watched respectfully as Elder Benson, whom I had not yet met, walked toward the microphone. He was a big man, well over six feet tall. He was a man with a Ph.D., a man internationally known as the United States Secretary of Agriculture and a special witness of the Lord, a man who seemed serene and sure, one who had addressed audiences throughout the world. Suddenly a hand touched my arm. A little girl leaned toward me and whispered urgently, “Pray for dad.”
Somewhat startled, I thought, “This message is being passed down the row, and I am to pass it on. Shall I say, ‘Pray for Elder Benson’? Shall I say, ‘You’re supposed to say a prayer for your father’?” Sensing the immediate need to act, I leaned over and whispered simply, “Pray for dad.”
I watched that whisper move along the row to where Sister Benson sat, her head already bowed.
Many times since that day I have remembered that message—Pray for dad, the patriarch of the home. Pray for him as he serves as district president or home teacher. Pray for him when he becomes executive secretary of a civic group, when his business flourishes, or when he takes a cut in salary. Pray as he gives counsel in family home evening. Pray for dad who works long hours so that Jerold can go on a mission and Diane can go to college. Pray for him as he speaks in sacrament meeting or gives mother a blessing that she might be made well again. Pray as he baptizes William or gives a tiny, newborn baby a name and a father’s blessing. And in the evening, should he come home tired or discouraged, pray for him. Pray for dad in all that he might do—the small things and the great.
As years have passed, general conferences have come and gone, and each time President Benson has stood to speak, I have thought, “His children, who are scattered across the continent, are united now in prayer for their father.”
And I have come to believe that the brief message that passed along the row some 21 years ago is the most important message a family can share. What extraordinary power and faith any man can have to meet the daily challenge of his life if somewhere in the world his daughter or son is whispering, “Pray for dad.”

Long ago, I sought to learn physics and mathematics in my college years. I felt overwhelmed. … I began to think of quitting, of doing something easier.
I felt weak. As I prayed, I felt the quiet assurance of the Lord. I felt Him say to my mind, “I am proving you, but I am also with you.” …
I learned that my struggle with physics was actually a gift from the Lord. He was teaching me that with His help, I could do things that seemed impossible if I had the faith that He would be there to help me. Through this gift, the Lord was working to prove and strengthen me.