Gospel Story Finder

Among many very good deeds, Hilda was largely responsible for gathering the whole of Joe’s offspring as a family. In late 1952, Joe, Hilda, John, and I went to Southern Rhodesia, and siblings Gwen, Peter and Sue were taken out of the Fairbridge home, located near Bulawayo in the south, to join the rest of us now located in what was Salisbury, the capital. We were all together in the one home for a precious two years. Then, due to concerns about space in our three-bedroomed Rhodesia-Railways-provided house, Gwen left to live in a special establishment set up to house young single women.
Those years in colonial Rhodesia were wonderful, especially for John and me. As youngsters we lived a largely outdoor life, often running around barefoot and getting up to mischief, but mostly creatively (building platforms in trees; forming rowing boats from corrugated metal sheets — usually used for roofing purposes; fabricating catapults from carefully chosen branches of trees and rubber strips from old car-tyre inner tubes, and bows that we used to shoot arrows made from dried elephant grass with pins in their heads and chicken feathers as fletching). Hilda was always around to attend to our injuries, and provide as best she could for us, including repairing clothing.

Kiera (11), Dane (10), and Annie (7) Bennion know the true meaning of family togetherness. While most families see each other only in the morning, after school, or on weekends, the children in the Bennion family see each other all day long, every day. That’s because the Bennions don’t go to a regular public school like most of the children in Beaverton—they and their brothers and sisters have school at home, with their mom as their teacher. Home schooling isn’t for everyone, but the Bennions felt that it was necessary for them.
“We really wanted to focus on family unity and self-worth,” their mother, Sandy, explains. So she and her husband, Gary, looked into the possibility of teaching their children themselves. They found out that their local school district allowed them to do so as long as they registered with the district and made sure that the children passed a state test once a year. After fulfilling these requirements, Sandy was given permission to teach her eight children in their own home.
Recently, as a home school project, they had a preschool in which the five older children—Aaron, Brittany, Kiera, Dane, and Annie—taught the three younger ones—Michelle (6), Ammon (4), and Lehi (2), as well as eleven other paying students. It was a good experience for them all, but not an easy one. “Sometimes it was pretty hard to keep the smaller kids under control,” Kiera admits.
During the school year (they usually get summers off, like regular school), the family starts off each day with a devotional. They wake up early and gather in the living room, where they say a prayer, sing hymns, and read the Bible. “We read our Book of Mormon at night,” Annie adds. The family also uses this time to practice singing. They enjoy singing in parts and sometimes prepare musical numbers to perform for a special event like their ward talent show.
They also do an annual Christmas “open house,” where they go caroling at a number of houses in their ward and neighborhood. Everyone who hears them delights in the Bennions’ performances. The practicing is hard, and sometimes performing is scary, but all their hard work pays off in the joy they bring to other people through their music.
Of course, the family isn’t always practicing for a performance. Most of the time, they just sing hymns or fun songs together. According to Dane, they may not perform for others more than five or six times a year, but they’re always singing on their own.
While the whole Bennion family is special, each of the children stands out with his or her own unique talents and personality. One time when Kiera was three years old, her parents took her to see her cousins perform in a band in which they played violins. That night at home, Kiera walked in with her mother’s high heel shoe tucked under her chin and a screwdriver in her hand, pretending to play the shoe like a violin. Now she takes lessons on a real violin and on a piano, but it’s easy to see that her love for music started long ago.
Dane is considered the family mechanic. He likes to tinker with things and figure out how they work. When he grows up, he wants to be a pilot or an engineer because he likes planes and he likes fixing things. He visits the OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science Industry) to see the neat things that they have there. Dane also has a playful streak. He’s always making funny faces in photographs or teasing his brothers and sisters.
Annie, short for Annelise, likes to wear bright colors like red and yellow. Anyone who knows her enjoys her happy smile and playful, fun-loving nature. She’s very adventurous and wants to be a mountain climber someday, if not a famous singer. She has a great voice for being only seven.
One of the fun things about the Bennion family is that all the boys have Book of Mormon names: Aaron, Dane Nephi, Ammon Jared, and Lehi. Dane says that he would like to be more like Nephi because his middle name is Nephi.
While Annie doesn’t have a Book of Mormon name, she says she wants to be like Nephi, too, because she’s like Dane and Dane is like Nephi. Kiera’s favorite Book of Mormon story is about the Brother of Jared and how he was able to see Jesus Christ because of his great faith. She knows that everyone on earth has the opportunity to earn that same blessing if they are faithful and obedient to the commandments of God.
The Bennions love to do active things together. Almost every member of the family has his or her own bike. One of their favorite vacations is to camp with their ward on the coast, an hour and a half away, and ride their bikes on the roads and trails there. Dad has also promised the family a long biking trip in Utah in the near future.
There are lots of fun things to do at home too. They have a basketball hoop in front of their house, and all the kids spend lots of time practicing. They also like climbing the tree in their backyard, jumping on their trampoline, or picking blackberries for Mom to make into a pie.
Another member has just joined the family. Little Moroni was born in October 1997, bringing great joy to his family. He is showered with affection from his eight brothers and sisters. After all, there always will be plenty of love for one more in this large, talented, fun-loving family.

On another occasion, a bishop in South America asked if Elder Kimball could bless a dying man in the hospital between stake conference sessions. They raced to the hospital and ran up the stairs and down the hall. As they entered the room, the bishop recalled, “There was an amazing change. Elder Kimball seemed to have all the time in the world.” They visited unhurriedly, administered to the man, and took their leave. Once out the door, they ran to the car and sped back to the conference.

“Father, how old do you have to be to receive a patriarchal blessing?” asked an Aaronic Priesthood youth one morning after Sunday School. My question had been prompted by the report of two missionaries. My father told me he knew of no age requirement, but one should be old enough to understand what the blessing would mean, and, of course, one must be worthy.
I asked him if he thought I was worthy. He informed me that he did think so, but he was not the one to say because that would be the responsibility of the bishop. “Why don’t you ask the bishop if you might receive a recommend for a patriarchal blessing?” he suggested.
This I did. After a careful but brief interview in one corner of the chapel—because fifty or sixty years ago many chapels didn’t have bishops’ offices—the bishop gave me a signed recommend.
When I showed it to my father, he pointed to a tall, white-haired man and said, “Brother Dalley, our stake patriarch, is visiting here today. Why don’t you present the recommend to him and ask when you might receive a blessing?”
The patriarch put his hand on my shoulder and said, “If you’ll come with me, we’ll walk up the road to the home of my son-in-law, Brother Winward, and I’ll give you the blessing right today.”
Up the road, arm-in-arm with this godly man, I went to the farm home. In the parlor, a room used for special occasions, with Brother Winward as scribe, this noble patriarch placed his hands upon my head and gave clear answer to a boy’s prayer. He promised that if I were faithful, I would go on a mission “to the nations of the earth, crying repentance to a wicked world.”
Filled with happiness and assurance that this and other promises in the blessing would be fulfilled, it seemed that I was walking on air during the mile walk to our farm home, where I broke the glad news to the family.

When the alarm went off at 5:00 a.m., 17-year-old Yee Mun Lim got out of bed and got ready for the day. She left the house at 5:20 for seminary. At 6:30 a.m. she hurried to school, where she stayed until 7:00 p.m. for classes and co-curricular activities. Then she rushed to the stake center by public transport to practice for the stake musical production.
This was the standard routine of most youth in the Singapore Stake every Friday for five months. Sometimes exhaustion and fatigue set in, but throughout the entire preparation for the musical production, When a Prophet Speaks, there were no complaints or regrets, because the youth felt that the sacrifices they made were worthwhile. “This is the most amazing, awesome, spiritually uplifting, fun-filled, and heart-warming event I ever took part in,” said Yee Mun, of the Singapore Second Ward.

“My older brother, Ron, has always been an inspiration to me. I recall one evening when he came home from a church youth meeting and announced to the family that his teacher had told him that he had to gain his own testimony and receive his own witness and to not rely on that of others. He said—almost prophetically—‘I’m going to gain that personal witness and testimony, no matter how long it takes or what the cost.’

“Ron began reading and studying the scriptures and fasting and praying. One morning a short time later, he was suddenly stricken by a paralysis. He could not move his body and his right side was in terrible pain. He was barely able to whisper to Dad that he wanted a blessing. No sooner had Dad finished blessing his son than Ron was miraculously cured! My brother uncoiled his tense body, straightened up, and was free of pain.

“When he was later examined by a doctor, the diagnosis was that he had had what appeared to be a ruptured appendix but that no trace of damaged tissue was found in his body. Later, my brother told me that during this experience he received his special witness from the Holy Ghost that the Book of Mormon and the gospel were true. He wanted me to know, however, that he had received this knowledge from the Spirit before Dad had blessed him and before his healing. He truly had shown faith before the miracle.”

Elder Andersen also told a story of a boy named Joshua who reached out to another child at church.
When Joseph, a boy from Uganda, went to church for the first time, he didn’t have any family there to help him know where to go. Then the missionaries introduced him to Joshua.
Joshua told Joseph he would be his friend. He gave Joseph a songbook for Primary, and he sat next to him. Then the Primary class sang “I Am a Child of God” to Joseph. Everyone made Joseph feel very special, especially his new friend, Joshua. When they were older, Joshua and Joseph served as missionary companions!

One Sunday morning, after drinking alcohol and kava with friends for most of the night, Siope ‘Akau‘ola of Tonga was returning home when he saw a family dressed in their Sunday best. They were laughing and talking as they walked together. Siope wondered what made them so happy, so he followed them to see where they were going.
Siope saw the family enter a Latter-day Saint Church building. He watched through the window as others arrived. Happiness radiated from their faces as families sat together and sang songs of worship.
Siope’s thoughts drifted to his wife, Liu. The love they had shared when first married was fading. Siope wanted to recapture that love. He hurried home and told his wife he had found the way to help their family succeed: they needed to join the Church.
That very day Siope went to the bishop’s home in his village. The bishop recognized Siope, having seen him drunk in the streets. As they talked, Siope could see doubt on the bishop’s face, but he was firm in his resolve; he boldly told the bishop he wanted to be baptized. The bishop paused, invited him in, and began teaching him the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Liu was reluctant at first but watched as her husband gradually changed for the better. Siope began spending more time with their children and showing more love for his wife and family through his actions. So Liu began taking the missionary lessons also, and soon they were both baptized.
As the one-year anniversary of their baptism drew near, the ‘Akau‘ola family contemplated the wonderful blessings of the temple. Siope said, “If the blessings of the temple are so much greater than those we have received from being baptized, imagine how wonderful temple blessings must be.” Despite their desire to be sealed, the temple in Tonga was undergoing renovations, so they would have to wait over a year or make an expensive trip to New Zealand or Fiji to attend the temple.
The family thought hard and prayed about what to do. They eventually decided to take out a small loan. While waiting for approval, the bank processing their loan was destroyed in a fire. All loans would be delayed until the following year.
Siope and Liu were feeling discouraged. They sat together in their small living room and prayed for a miracle. As they prayed and counseled together, the answer came: “I saw in my mind’s eye the family van smiling at us and knew this was the answer to our prayers,” Siope said. They were able to sell the van the next day and purchase airline tickets to Fiji for their family of five.
They arrived very late into Nadi, Fiji, with three tired children and a long drive ahead of them to the temple in Suva. Liu said, “I learned that the more we try to get closer to the Lord’s house the more Satan tries to get us to give up before we get the blessing.”
While sitting in the airport trying to decide what their next step would be, a woman helped them arrange lodging and a ride to Suva the next day for a fraction of the usual rates. They felt that God had sent an angel to help them.
They arrived at the temple the next day. “As we entered the temple I felt a peace and calm in my heart,” Liu said. “I have never seen clean and white in my life like in the temple. A thought came to my mind: If the temple is a house made by man and it is so beautiful, then how wonderful must the home be that Heavenly Father has promised us!”
Their experiences in the temple were life-changing for the family. Liu said, “The whole time we were in Fiji, I experienced the love of our Heavenly Father for us. When we choose to follow Him, He really takes good care of us.”
Wonderful blessings continued to come for the ‘Akau‘ola family after they returned home. Both Siope and Liu received college scholarships, earned teaching degrees, and were hired at Liahona High School.
While teaching, they became aware of children who needed a place to live. Sometimes by ones, more often by twos and threes, children began knocking on Siope and Liu’s door. And Siope and Liu took them in. Their small home now holds 20 people. They have five other “adopted” children who have since gone away to attend college or to serve missions.
Photograph courtesy of the authors
Siope and Liu know that these children will grow and blossom when they are given love and structure in their lives. Those who were not members of the Church have embraced the gospel and now have growing desires to serve missions. Siope and Liu call all the children under their care their children, and all the kids call Liu and Siope Mom and Dad. The ‘Akau‘olas know they’ve been richly blessed and are happy to share these blessings with others.

I had occasion the other evening to do a little research on the Willie and Martin handcart companies of 1856. There were more than a thousand in those companies, converts to the Church from Scandinavia and the British Isles. They were late in arriving in the States, and dangerously late in leaving Iowa City to begin the long walk to this valley. They became trapped in the snows of Wyoming. Fortunately they were passed on the way by several missionaries who were returning from England and who, when they saw the plight of the handcart Saints, pushed on to this valley and reported to President Brigham Young. That was on the Saturday of the October conference of 1856. The next morning, Sunday, he stood before the people in the old tabernacle that stood on this square, and said in the morning session:

“I will now give this people the subject and the text for the Elders who may speak to-day and during the conference,” he announced. “It is this. … Many of our brethren and sister are on the plains with handcarts, and probably many are now seven hundred miles from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them. The text will be, ‘to get them here.’ …

“That is my religion; that is the dictation of the Holy Ghost that I possess. It is to save the people.”

He called for teams and wagons and drivers, and then said:

“I want the sisters to have the privilege of fetching in blankets, skirts, stockings, shoes, etc. for the men, women and children that are in those hand-cart companies … hoods, winter bonnets, stockings, skirts, garments, and almost any description of clothing.”

That was on Sunday. On Tuesday morning, two days later, sixteen wagonloads of food and supplies began moving out of this city drawn by sixteen strong four-mule teams, handled by twenty-seven young men.

This was the beginning, and other wagonloads followed as the men responded with their teams and wagons, and the women from their own meager stores gathered in food, clothing, blankets, and other necessities. (See LeRoy R. Hafen, Handcarts to Zion, Glendale, California: Arthur H. Clark Company, 1960, pp. 119–26.)

There is no more heroic episode in all of our history. As these poor people, many of them with badly frozen hands and feet, some of them nearer death than life, arrived in the valley, the women who were here opened their homes to them, nurtured them, dressed their wounds, fed them and encouraged and blessed them through that long, bitter winter.

One summer evening during a violent thunderstorm a mommy was tucking her small boy into bed. She was about to turn off the light when he asked with a tremor in his voice, "Mommy, will you sleep with me tonight?"
His mother smiled and gave him a reassuring hug. "I can't, dear," she said. "I have to sleep in Daddy's room."
A long silence was broken at last by his shaky little voice, saying: "The big sissy."

Before they began practicing for their road show a few years ago, the youth of the Parker Ward set aside a day to fast and pray. To people who have been in a road show before, that may not seem such a strange thing to do, but they weren’t fasting in hopes of making the best use of their talents, and they weren’t praying for the road show to get canceled.
The road show participants were praying for help and guidance in making the road show a way to build testimonies. Little did they know it would build the testimony of someone who was not yet a member of the Church, and would introduce her to the scriptures.
Lindsay Thiess, a Laurel at the time, invited Roxanne McHugh (who wasn’t LDS) to be in the road show with her.
“We wanted to have the road show be a missionary experience,” says Lindsay. “I knew Roxanne would have a good time doing the show.”
Lindsay was right. Roxanne did have a good time. She also started getting curious about the story she was acting out.
“The story of the road show was about the Brother of Jared. One night after road show practice, I went home and found this Book of Mormon that my brother had ordered from an ad on television when he was 11 because he could get it for free!” says Roxanne. “I read the story of the Brother of Jared, and after that the road show meant a lot more; it started to make sense.”
That complimentary Book of Mormon, delivered to Roxanne’s house three years earlier and put on a shelf, sparked an interest in the gospel that Roxanne couldn’t deny.
“I prayed and knew the Church was right, and I knew that I needed to invite my parents to come to the play,” says Roxanne.
Roxanne’s parents had the same good feeling after watching the road show, and soon Roxanne, her younger brother, Courtney, and both her parents were baptized. One year later Roxanne and Courtney were sealed to their parents in the temple for time and all eternity.
It was a miracle. The miracle all the youth of the Parker Ward, Willow Creek Colorado Stake, had prayed for.
And the miracle continues every day for the McHughs as they read the scriptures, grow in the gospel, and share their testimonies with their nonmember family and friends. Strange as it may seem, Roxanne gained a personal connection to the scriptures while she was singing songs with made-up words and wearing an old sheet dyed and sewed to look like Jaredite apparel. Roxanne learned to really know the people of the scriptures, which helped her know that the gospel was true.
“I have learned to love the scriptures,” says Roxanne, “and that has changed my life.”

My dad and I were painting back bedrooms in our house when I was 16 years old. It was a hot dry dusty summer Utah day. My mom and sister were shopping and our dogs were outside roaming the forest behind our house. Our back yard bordered the forest service so we had a mountain and the forest as our backyard. When we let the dogs outside, we normally left the backdoor open so they could come in whenever they felt like it.
My dad became thirsty, so he decided to get something to drink from the kitchen. Within a couple of seconds after he left me, he started yelling and shouting. Now my Dad was a very calm man. He rarely lost his temper and he never raised his voice, but he was quite excited about something and was yelling for me to come here.
I walked to the hallway outside of our dining room and saw my dad pointing in the corner of the room. I stepped into the dining room and looked in the corner to see what he was pointing at. There was a rather large snake - about 3'-4' long and about as big around as the largest part of my forearm -- in the corner. The snake had crawled in the backdoor we had left open for the dogs.
My dad and I were not really sure what kind of snake it was. Rattlers are bad and gopher snakes are pretty harmless, but they look very similar and this snake could have been either. Well, we were not going to take any chances, so my dad went down to the garage and found a couple of six foot long boards. The plan was that I would push the snake with my board towards the backdoor and once the snake was by the door my dad would push it outside. Only problem was, the snake did not want to go back outside. It coiled up in the corner, raised it rattles in the air, and began to strike at our sticks.
When those rattles started shaking, my dad jumped back and said 'Hot darn, it is a rattle snake," almost like he was happy and excited to see a rattler in our dining room. And yes, he really said "Hot darn" - I'm not editing.
After we made a few attempts to move that snake towards the back door, it became really mad and started lunging at us. One time it lunged at my dad with full force. Its body went completely straight in the blink of an eye. You can imagine the adrenaline that would rush through your veins if a rattle snake moved 3'-4' towards you faster than you could blink.
My dad jumped back and he smacked that rattler on the head with his board. Then, he pulled back the board with a backswing that would have made Tiger Woods envious, and with a perfect 300 yard forward swing he launched the snake out the door - and, no divot in the carpet.

Illustration by Nate Gines
Photograph courtesy of Cornell F.
Location: Western Australia
Experience: activation of quorum members
Sets an example through simple acts of service. Makes sure every quorum member is contacted.
Well before sacrament meeting started, the president was already there. He always is. Now, before you assume we’re talking about a stake, district, or branch president, let’s clarify. Cornell F. is a deacons quorum president.
Every Sunday he magnifies his calling. This particular Sunday is ward conference, and Cornell is here early, placing hymnbooks on the benches where the deacons will be seated. He wants his quorum to benefit from the sacred music that should be a significant part of worship.
Another Sunday, he is pleased to report that all of the deacons in his ward are in attendance, six who are active and three who haven’t been coming regularly but are being fellowshipped.
“Every Sunday,” he says, “I give deacons assignments to call or visit less-active quorum members or friends who are investigating the Church.” He also notes that “every Tuesday evening before our youth activities we invite all the deacons to come.”
At the ward conference, the deacons pay special attention to inspiring messages from the stake president and the bishop. Then after the meeting, “the deacons stay to make sure that the chapel is clean and tidy,” Cornell says. They also look after the rest of the meetinghouse. “We take out the bins and sometimes we help to clean the nursery room,” he explains.
“We are ‘can-do’ deacons,” he says, “and each deacon plays a big role in our success.”

On Saturday, June 5, 1976, the Teton Dam breached forming a tidal wave that raged over the Upper Snake River Valley Plain. The small communities of Wilford and Sugar City were totally devastated. Rexburg and several other communities downstream received extensive destruction. Homes and buildings were torn from their foundations, trees toppled, rich dark farmland was superimposed with boulders, silt, and debris, and business houses were annihilated. The inundated counties were declared a national disaster area. Of noticeable effect on the communities was the massive relief program of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Ricks College, a small church-owned school, provided thousands of victims shelter, clothing, and medical assistance. 30,000 meals a day were served at the peak of the disaster.[33]
Several months later in a judge's chamber after all the evidentiary hearings were completed Judge Marion Callister was sitting under his favorite painting of George Washington kneeling in prayer by his horse. Judge Callister was a prayerful man. After lengthy meditation and long silence, Judge Callister spoke in a very soft voice saying he knew how the case should come out. After a couple more sentences it became crystal clear in my mind how the opinion should read.
The Federal District Court held that some personal information from claims filed by the victims of the failure of the Teton Dam was exempt from disclosure. This decision prevented potential divisiveness, gossip, innuendo, accusation, defense of integrity for every individual, every family, every neighborhood, every village, every city, and every county affected by the failure of the Teton Dam. Many of those affected are in attendance at this devotional today and have never heard of this court decision, which personally affected each of them. Judge Marion Callister was a great God-fearing man who lived by listening to the Spirit.

Not long ago, Father Paul Showalter of Nauvoo shared with us an interesting insight on the Prophet Joseph Smith that came from the early Catholic history of that area.
When the Saints began to settle in Nauvoo and surrounding areas, a French Catholic priest by the name of Father John Alleman, who lived in neighboring McDonough County, needed transportation to visit a sick parishioner. Joseph provided him with ferry service to cross the river and a carriage to his destination.
As an expression of respect, Joseph commented, “The priests attend to their people faithfully and mind their own business, whereas others are continually bothering the Latter-day Saints.”

Mother taught me the gospel. One time we had a cloudburst, and the ditch out back overflowed its banks. Our house was on a little rise, but there were at least three feet of water around it. Father was farming at a place called Dry Lake. I remember kneeling with Mother and praying that we would not be flooded and that Father would get home. About four or five hours later, the downpour stopped and Father came home. It had flooded where he was too. Water had been up to his waist, but he’d been preserved. I was very impressed with the power of prayer.

Dad felt his calling as an Apostle was an absolute priority—and for good reason. There is only a small group of men called as special witnesses to lead God’s work on the earth, and they can’t take a day off, let alone a year.
Fulfilling his assignments was more important to my father than even his health. Dad left it to the Lord to renew his body (see D&C 84:33). He once asked me to go with him to a regional conference in Paris, France. His doctor thought he should take several days to make the trip because of the toll traveling would take on Dad’s body, but we flew directly to Paris. I could hardly keep my eyes open, and Dad was off energetically conducting meetings, interviewing, and lifting others.
Toward the end of his life, he was often in terrible pain. I didn’t know the human body could endure such pain. “Dad,” I asked, “do you think we really shouted for joy to have a body like this?” With conviction he answered, “Yes.” Then he added with a bit of humor, “I’m not sure we knew the whole story.”

A letter written by my father, Haydn Morgan (1926–2010), to Sister Joyce Clarke, reads:
“October 2001.
“This month is special to me, since it’s 40 years ago that I took the 76 bus from the market in Swansea to Brynmill. As I sat upstairs while the bus waited a while, I noticed that Elena Neale got on; at the next stop it was your turn; further on Margaret Berry joined the bus. When I got off at St Gabriel’s church, I was delighted when the three of you alighted as well. It was such a joy to see you and eagerly ask after your families. I do not think you remembered this man accosting you, but how much I remembered you all from those few short meetings attended in that scruffy little hall in Manselton, two years earlier.
“It was mentioned that you were on your way to a Relief Society meeting with a missionary couple living in the next street. When you got there you told the Bronsons of our meeting, with the result that some weeks later they called, and we were in touch with the Church again.
“I believe that like Saul we all have our own Damascus Road (See Acts 9), maybe not with a blinding light, etc. Mine was two years earlier. During that time, I knew that the Church was true, and I yearned to be part of it, but lacked the courage. You three lovely ladies were my Ananias, who opened my eyes, changing my life and that of my loved ones. In these past 40 years, we have had some wonderful experiences, often great challenges, but never any regrets.
“I shall be eternally grateful for that wonderful bus ride with its meeting and later friendship and associations.”
Haydn Morgan and his wife, Joy, were baptised in the spring of 1962.
(Edited for punctuation.)

by Scott Richards
Brian Rasmussen of the High River Ward, Calgary Alberta South Stake, recently became the youngest commercial airplane pilot ever licensed in Canada.
He received his commercial license on March 18, 1981, the day of his 18th birthday.
Brian first enrolled in flying lessons when he was 16 years old, and since that time, he has proven to be a very dedicated and talented pilot. By the time he turned 17, Brian had flown 35 hours and had passed five exams and a flight test to qualify for his private pilot’s license. In receiving his private license, Brian set a record by becoming the youngest private pilot ever licensed in western Canada.
After achieving that goal, Brian set his sights higher and kept on working. Between his 17th and 18th birthdays, Brian logged another 115 hours flight time to bring his “in air” total to 150 hours. He also passed another flight test and written exam and participated in 30 hours of classroom instruction. By the time his 18th birthday arrived, Brian had qualified to become Canada’s youngest commercial pilot. In addition to his flying, Brian also finds time to work on his dad’s farm and participate in Church activities. When he turns 19, Brian plans to serve a mission.

The Primary of the Prospect Ward, Adelaide Australia Firle Stake wanted to work on bringing their scriptures to church. They decided to put a “fuzzy” in a jar every time they did, because the scriptures give us a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. At the end of the year, they joined the fuzzies together. Their fuzzy “snake” was 6½ meters (21 feet) long! All the children enjoyed this activity, and some days every one of them had their scriptures with them at Primary.