Gospel Story Finder

When our young daughter was practicing the piano, I suggested she play her piece over five more times to be prepared for her lesson.
She said, “No, Mom. Five is too many.”
I said, “Then you choose how many times you need.”
She said, “No. You choose—but don’t choose five!”
Are we ever like that when the Spirit prompts us what to do and it isn’t easy or comfortable or popular? We say, “Please tell me again. I want to be obedient, but just tell me something a little easier—and more fun.” It can be dangerous trying to please ourselves.

Most Latter-day Saints who achieve any amount of fame or success will say that in spite of their dedication to their chosen field, the Church comes first. But the girls on Kirtland, New Mexico’s record-shattering basketball team won’t tell you that.
It would be impossible for them to separate the Church from any one facet of their lives, because the gospel is the dominating force in everything they do. To rank it in one place, leave it there, then go on to others would be absolutely ridiculous to them.
Take basketball, for example. That’s what they spend most of their time doing, and the gospel is always a part of it. There were five LDS girls on the team that won a record-breaking eight straight state championships, and the coach was the first counselor in the bishopric. With that kind of a roster, you can bet the gospel was never far from their minds.
“The Church is the whole backbone of everything in life,” says Paige Manning, a perky five-foot, two-inch guard who resembles a pixie more than a basketball player. But Paige will surprise you. She’s a skilled starter with some deadly shots that have earned her high-point honors in more than one game. “We pray about everything, and we know we represent the Church wherever we go, whatever we do,” she says.
And the players on the Kirtland Central High girls’ basketball team get to do a lot of representing. Since they set their record, they’ve appeared on radio and television stations nationwide, including ESPN, and have been noted in many newspapers, including a featured article in USA Today. One player, Collette Hatch, has even had her picture printed on the side of milk cartons all over the state as part of an antidrug campaign. And that kind of recognition isn’t common in Kirtland.
You see, Kirtland is an unlikely place to produce a team that rolls over the most powerful schools in the state. Kirtland is hardly even a speck on the map in the northwest corner of the state. But the town, like its LDS residents, is permeated by the gospel. It originated in the late 1800s as a little offshoot community of nearby Fruitland, which was mostly settled by Saints sent out from Salt Lake City. Yes, it is named after the famous Mormon settlement in Ohio. Today most of the town’s residents are non-LDS, but there are still descendants of the original settlers. You’ll find LDS family names like Cluff, Foutz, Ashcroft, Biggs, Farnsworth, and Hatch wherever you go.
Kirtland never was exactly what you’d call a boomtown, either. The population hit about 3,000, and has stayed close to that mark ever since. It’s mostly flat, rocky desert land, although the red-brown scenery is dotted by a Navajo willow every now and then. There are a few stores in Kirtland, a post office, a couple of churches, and a ball diamond or two.
And there are schools there. Schools that feature superlative female basketball players. The winning tradition has become a legacy that many of the little girls in town dream of joining. “I’ve always wanted to be on the team,” says Gaylene “Gidget” Gallagher, an energetic guard. “I’ve been trying to learn how to play since I was little. When the coaches finally started us in a program, I spent all my time in the gym.”
It was the same for Collette. “When I was just little I remember my dad saying, ‘Here—take this basketball and go dribble it around the house—and don’t use both hands!’”
Once Collette got to high school, basketball seemed to dominate just about everything else. “You just go to practice, come home, study, and go to bed,” she says. “You have no social life. Except after the games you might go get pizza or something, but that’s about it. All during the summer, you just practice.”
All that work seems to have paid off for Collette, who fits most people’s description of the all-American girl. In the summer of 1987, she was selected to be on a high school superstar team that traveled to Israel. She has managed to be active in seminary, Mutual, and student council, and she is rated second in her class academically, so you can tell she finds time for some other interests.
During the season, practices last at least three hours a day. And in the summertime, some of the players have been known to practice up to 12 hours a day. Coach Cluff, a loving, fatherly man who knows how to take charge, uses basketball as an opportunity to help his players learn the gospel.
“I’m simple enough to believe that everything is spiritual with Heavenly Father,” he says. “Whether it’s basketball, math, science, or whatever.” He always makes sure that there’s a prayer both before and after a game. “Kids can learn a lot about their Heavenly Father through basketball, if they use prayer, and hopefully those lessons will stick with them for the rest of their lives.”
What are some of the lessons they’ve learned? They’ve learned to stick to their standards, for one. “The community knows we’re not the partying type,” says Collette. In fact, the town residents know just about everything about the players on their championship team, from their grade point averages to the color of dress they wore to the prom. “The community knows that we’re probably the straightest people in the whole town. We can’t give in to temptation, even just a little bit, or everything will go down. Not just our reputation, but our abilities and our potential.”
“And it’s not always easy to set a strong example,” adds Paige. “It’s hard in a small town. You don’t have much to do that’s exciting. Everything gets real old real fast, so a lot of kids just turn to things like alcohol and drugs, and they think that makes them happy. I’ve seen them go through a lot of pain, and I’ve been able to avoid all that by following the Word of Wisdom and keeping my standards where they should be.”
They’ve learned that the missionary work they do through example is invaluable. Over the years, several team members have joined the Church thanks to the examples set by their LDS counterparts. And most of the LDS players today bring friends to Church activities and seminary. You might think there would be a certain breach between the LDS and non-LDS players, but they go out of their way to be unified.
“There’s never a division between the LDS girls and the others,” says Moni Ahlcrimn, a raven-haired forward with a sparkle in her blue eyes. “But they do watch us, and many times they kind of follow along with what we’re doing.”
Gidget thinks that that cohesiveness is the main reason for Kirtland’s success on the courts. “You have to be truly dedicated to teamwork to win,” she says. “We work so much together as a team. One of the reasons the other teams lose is because there’s conflict from within. But we really help each other. I think the main reason we do so well is that we’re like one big family.”
But even on a winning team, there are lessons to be learned about defeat. Angie Harris, the team center, hyperextended her knee during the second quarter of the first game of the record-breaking season, and was sidelined for the rest of the year. At least two surgeries have been necessary to get her back on her feet, and she’ll probably never play school ball again. Many players might be bitter over this, but not Angie. She reads the scriptures faithfully every day, and from them she’s learned that “the Lord isn’t going to give you challenges that you can’t handle. This injury wasn’t that bad. I played on the state championship team last year. This keeps it from going to my head.”
Oh, and of course there are the basic lessons to be learned about taking care of the temple which is your body. These girls are so into fitness that in the few seconds of spare time they have left over, they do things like coach little girls’ softball, work as a lifeguard at the community pool, play church volleyball and softball, compete on the school track team, and run just for the fun of it. That’s the main reason Moni is involved in basketball at all. She’s only been playing about three years, but she says, “The running is what I like best. I play to stay in shape.”
And they’ve learned to play, to eat, to drink and sleep—to live under pressure. Many people think the girls’ basketball program is the best thing that ever happened to Kirtland. “Now that we’ve got a streak going, nobody wants to be on the first team to lose,” says Coach Cluff. “The girls work real hard, under intense pressure from the community and from themselves and their teammates, to continue the winning tradition.”
With that kind of pressure, you can see why most of the girls are a bit relieved come graduation day when they hang up their tennies and go on to college. A few of them continue playing basketball—BYU’s star Karina Zapata is a product of Kirtland, and Collette hopes to play for a four-year university. Most of the players from the Kirtland basketball legacy, however, will give up ball in favor of books.
But they will never regret, and they will never forget, the things they learned from their magical years on the basketball team. Sure, their hook shots may fade, and they might not recall how they ever managed to pull down so many rebounds, but because they took their coach’s advice to “consider all things spiritual,” they’ll never forget the eternal principles they learned on a high school basketball court.

Failure to achieve such academic breadth put me in a bind when I graduated and found that geologists weren’t being hired. My narrow focus made me vulnerable to the fall in the price of oil, which put a temporary stop to exploration for new oil reserves. Yet things could have been different if I had been better prepared. Energy companies such as Exxon didn’t stop refining oil and selling gasoline. They still needed recent college graduates to help manage their refineries and their thousands of gas stations. If I’d taken even a few business courses, or, better yet, earned a minor or certificate in that field, I might have found a good job that could have prepared me to reapply to the Harvard Business School after two or more years.

Fortunately, I had taken some valuable courses outside of my geology major. Thanks to a technical writing course and two elective literature courses, I was a confident writer. I also had a passion for history. Those interests and abilities made me a good candidate for law school. I enrolled in BYU’s J. Rueben Clark Law School and found success there, becoming a student editor of the law review. I also applied for and received a summer internship in Exxon’s law department in Houston. My geology studies in college helped me succeed in that internship.

Part of making the change into Relief Society means learning new skills. Probably one of the most important things all three girls learned right away was how to be a good visiting teacher—something none of them had done before.
“The first time I went visiting teaching, I had no clue what I was doing,” says Aubrey. “It was sort of hard to think of things to say, but now I really like it. It’s great to get to know people and help them out.”

Lethbridge, Alberta, is quite a long way from the Sweetwater River in Wyoming, but during a recent pioneer trek, they looked a little bit the same. Three boys from the Lethbridge Stake—Randy Bullock, Drew Walters, and Brett Barfuss—were inspired by a story they heard about three young men who helped rescue members of the Martin Handcart Company. The young men carried many Saints through the icy river, risking their own lives to save others.
The boys in Lethbridge reenacted the brave service rendered by those young men so long ago. And although they didn’t risk their lives to carry their friends across Lee’s Creek, all the youth felt of the sweet spirit that service brings.

During a general conference session President McKay told of a personal experience from his life that illustrates this point. He said that he was out hunting cattle and while climbing a steep hill he stopped his horse to let it rest. In his words,

An intense desire came over me to receive a manifestation of the truth of the restored gospel. I dismounted, threw my reins over my horse’s head, and there, under a serviceberry bush I prayed that God would declare to me the truth of his revelation to Joseph Smith. I am sure that I prayed fervently and sincerely and with as much faith as a young boy could muster.

At the conclusion of prayer I rose from my knees, threw the reins over my faithful pony’s head, and got into the saddle. As I started along the trail again, I remember saying to myself, “No spiritual manifestation has come to me. If I am true to myself I must say I am just the same ‘old boy’ that I was before I prayed.” I prayed again when I crossed Spring Creek near Huntsville (with the same result). [Conference Report, October 1969]

Then he added that much later on, when he was in the mission field, a singularly spiritual experience came during the equivalent of a zone conference today. A powerful, unmistakable witness came in answer to his supplication. It came when he needed it, when it was more important to confirm other promptings of the spirit.

At the end of World War II, when I was 19 years old, enemy troops came to occupy my hometown in Europe. One evening my parents and I were sitting at our table when we heard a loud noise. We looked out through the blackout curtains, hung so that bombers couldn’t detect our house at night, to see enemy troops—along with their motorcycles, trucks, and tanks—coming into our village from two different directions. I was very frightened.
My father, always a faithful man, said simply, “Don’t be scared.” In the face of what was just outside our house, that was an extraordinary statement. We all knew that the soldiers would likely invade the neighborhood to pillage people’s homes. Father suggested that we kneel next to the couch and pray for Heavenly Father’s protection. He prayed, “Father in Heaven, please blind those soldiers. Make our house invisible so they won’t see it.”
After he prayed, my mother prayed. Then I prayed. Afterward, we returned to the table and cautiously looked out the window. We watched soldiers storm into every house on our street. Ours was the last one on the street. They approached our house but then passed our front gate and went to the next street. We watched them enter every house that we could see from our window.
After an invasion of about two hours, someone blew a loud whistle, and the soldiers returned to their vehicles. As they slowly left, we were tremendously relieved and knelt again, thanking Heavenly Father for His kindness and protection.
The next day I learned from a distraught friend that the soldiers had done terrible things in every house she knew of. When I told her that they had not come to our house, she was shocked. She said she had watched them go in our direction and that she knew of no homes in our sector that they had not entered. Our house was the only one the soldiers had left alone.
I know that Heavenly Father hears our pleas and answers them. Sometimes it seems that we might not ever receive an answer, and we wish that He would answer sooner. But I know that in our home 65 years ago, He answered right away.

2:06 p.m. The missionaries jump on another bus, this time to El Casco, the historic quarter of Toledo, Spain. They stop by an investigator’s business to invite him to an activity that night.
“You can get lost in here really quick if you aren’t paying attention,” Elder Ward says of the maze of narrow streets lined with buildings that seem to lean over those walking below.

7:45 p.m. Two buses later the elders make it to the activity they had planned with the sister missionaries who work in the same city, Sister Kathleen Bonifay and Sister Brittany Hofman.
The people they were expecting to come didn’t. “That’s the way it goes sometimes,” Elder Ward says. But after a little footwork, the missionaries are able to gather a handful of other investigators living nearby. After a hymn and a video, you can feel the influence of the Holy Ghost as the missionaries bear testimony of the Book of Mormon as another witness of Jesus Christ. The activity is a success.
“The Lord takes care of you when you put forth your best planning and best effort,” says Sister Bonifay.

When I was called to the Relief Society general presidency six years ago this month, President Hinckley counseled me: “You bring a peculiar quality to this presidency. You will be recognized as one who represents those beyond the borders of the United States and Canada and, as it were, an outreach across the world to members of the Church in many, many lands. They will see in you a representation of their oneness with the Church.” He gave me a blessing that my tongue might be loosed as I spoke to the people.
President Hinckley, I want to bear witness to the Lord before you and this congregation that your counsel and your blessing have been literally fulfilled.
I do not speak Korean or Spanish or Tongan. But when I received my assignment to go among the Relief Society sisters and their priesthood leaders in lands where those languages were spoken, I was filled with a great desire to speak to them in their own language. I drew strength from President Hinckley’s words of comfort and blessing. With the help of the Church Translation Department and good coaches who spent hours working with me, I was blessed to deliver my addresses in Spanish, Korean, and Tongan as I went among those people. I could feel the Spirit carrying my words to their hearts, and I could feel “the fruit of the Spirit” (Gal. 5:22) bringing back to me their love, their joy, and their faith. I could feel the Spirit making us one.

We headed for Sister Campbell’s first. She was living by herself in a tiny farmhouse in the middle of an apple orchard. We rang the doorbell and waited.
“Treat or trick,” we yelled, when she answered the door.
“What?” asked Sister Campbell. “Oh, girls, I wasn’t expecting anyone clear out here. I’m sorry, I don’t have a scrap of candy. But you’re welcome to the apples.”
“That’s okay,” we told her. “We’re reverse trick-or-treating. We bring you the treat.” She laughed and invited us inside. She told us about the things she used to do at Halloween.
“Some of us played terrible pranks.” Jill and I looked at each other. “We knocked over an outhouse while a boy was in it.”
“Oh, no!” I laughed, though I didn’t mean to.
“I felt awful about it,” Sister Campbell said.
“What happened? Did the boy get even with you?”
Sister Campbell giggled. “I’ll say he did. He married me.”

Boy:Over a hundred and eight years ago, some parents in Farmington, Utah, were worried about their children.

Girl:They wondered how they could help the children understand the gospel so that they would live happier lives.

Bishop:I am Bishop Hess. Many children in the ward were allowed to be out late at night, and some were rowdy. I called a meeting of the mothers in the ward. We talked about the importance of guiding the minds of young children.

Aurelia:I am Aurelia Rogers. “I had reflected seriously upon the necessity of more strict discipline for our little boys. … What will our girls do for good husbands, if this state of things continues? … I had children of my own, and was just as anxious as a mother could be to have them brought up properly. But what was to be done? It needed the united effort of the parents.”

Boy:One day Eliza R. Snow, the General President of the Relief Society, had been to a conference in Farmington. The train back to Salt Lake was not due for some time, so Sister Snow decided to visit her friend Aurelia.

Eliza:I am Eliza R. Snow. Although I had no children of my own, I had a great interest in them. I was a poet and a teacher and had written songs and stories for little children. I was pleased with Sister Rogers’s idea when she asked:

Aurelia:“Could there not be an organization for little boys wherein they could be taught everything good, and how to behave?”

Eliza:I agreed to discuss the matter with the First Presidency, who later gave approval. A letter was written to Bishop Hess, asking for his permission to organize the children in his ward.

Bishop:After I received the letter from Sister Snow, I talked with Sister Rogers and asked if she would be willing to preside over an organization of the children. She said:

Aurelia:“I felt willing, but very incompetent. From that time my mind was busy thinking how it was to be managed. … As singing was necessary, it needed the voices of little girls as well as boys to make it sound as well as it should.”

Eliza:I agreed with Aurelia. “‘We must have the girls as well as the boys—they must be trained together.’” I suggested that the organization be called “Primary.”

Bishop:On August 11, 1878, I set apart Sister Rogers and her two counselors, Louisa Haight and Helen Miller. I suggested that they visit every home in the ward during the next two weeks, which they did. They took the names and ages of two hundred twenty-four children and invited them to the first meeting.

Girl:The first Primary meeting was held on Sunday, August 25, 1878, in the rock chapel in Farmington.

Aurelia:“Imagine our feelings as we stood before an audience of children who had come there to receive instructions from us. We were very weak indeed, but felt to lean upon the Lord.”

Boy:The meeting began with prayer; then the children were given instructions and taught to sing.

Girl:The children were asked to “see how much they could do for [their fathers and mothers] without grumbling.”

Boy:Children were also asked to not quarrel with brothers and sisters.

Girl:Little boys were instructed to not go into orchards and melon patches that weren’t their own, and little girls were told to not hang on to wagons, a practice not only wrong but dangerous.

Boy:Other Primaries were organized throughout the territory before the first Primary was even one month old. Sister Snow continued to speak to mothers about the spiritual training of their children. She felt that women with the very best talents—women who loved children and were appealing to them—should preside over the Primary.

“Mother and Father packed our clothes, quilts, pots and pans, dishes, food, and everything else they could into the wagon. I put in my doll and helped with some of the smaller things. Father hitched the oxen to the wagon and we started on our long journey. I’d never seen oxen before. They looked like big brown cows to me.”
“When we first came to Utah, I helped Father and Mother plant the seeds in the ground. It took Father two days to break the hard ground before we could plant the seeds. All day we worked and dropped a seed at a time on the ground.”
“You wouldn’t remember because you were only a baby then and had just learned to walk,” Louisa answered quietly. “Anyway, when the new plants were just coming up, about this high,” Louisa measured with her fingers, “some crickets came and began eating them. More and more crickets came.”
Louisa continued her story. “Everyone got sticks and shovels and whatever they could find and began beating the crickets. But more crickets came. Finally, the people gave up. They couldn’t kill all the crickets. They were going to eat up all the food we planted.”
“Father and Mother and the rest of the people prayed to our Heavenly Father that the crops would be saved from the hungry crickets. And it wasn’t long until we were surprised to hear a noise in the sky. I looked up and saw sea gulls. At first they looked like more crickets. I hadn’t seen any sea gulls here before, although I used to watch them on the ocean before we came west in the wagon.”
“The sea gulls came to the ground and ate up the crickets,” Louisa continued. “No one had really noticed them in the valley before. Some people say they were here all the time. But I think Heavenly Father sent them to us when the people prayed. What do you think, Thomas?”

Just this summer our family came in possession of the first letter written to my grandmother by her mother when my grandmother left her home in England as a young immigrant. She left everything behind because someone taught her of the gospel of Jesus Christ. She joined the Saints in America and eventually moved to Canada. For fear of being persuaded to remain in England, she did not tell her family of her conversion to the Church or her plans to leave until after. That first letter received from her mother reads in part:

My dearest daughter. . . whatever on earth has caused you to go out of your own country and away from all your friends, I cannot imagine. You say, “Don’t fret.” How do you think I can help it when such a blow as that come to struck me all up in a heap? You say you are happy, but I can’t think it, for I am sure I could not have been happy to have gone into a foreign country and left you behind. You say you will come again, but I don’t think you will hesitate your life over the deep waters again. When I think about it, I feel wretched. You had a good place and a good home to come to whenever you liked. And I must say that I loved the very ground you walked upon, and now I am left to fret in this world. But still, all the same for that, I wish you good luck and hope the Lord will prosper you in every way. I remain, your loving Mother. [Personal Files]

They never saw each other again in this earth life. And none of her family joined the Church. However, their temple work has been done for them.

I still remember one particular afternoon as if it were yesterday. I sat down next to a smiling lady during our Sunday meetings, which at that time were held both in the morning and the afternoon. I took her hand to make sure she would stay with me. But I was only six years old, and I was quite tired. My eyelids began to close, and though I struggled hard to keep hold of that warm hand, I fell asleep. When I woke up, the hand was no longer there. Tears ran down my small face, and my heart was sad.
Her name was Sister Avon Compton. She and her husband, Merlin, were always smiling, and their faces reflected love. When I close my eyes today, I can still see them clearly. I often tell my Primary class about them. Their story is the best way I know to teach my CTR class about love.
They had come to Perú from their own country to be with us for a while. She did not speak our language very well, but her husband spoke it better than some of us. We admired him and knew he loved our language and culture.
I do not remember exactly when I began to love Sister Compton, but I think it must have been that first Sunday in Primary. She taught us the song “When I Go to Church” (Children’s Songbook, 157). She had brought pictures, and as she taught us the words of the song, she taught us about singing. She told us that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ liked to hear our voices raised in praise.
On another occasion, we again sat together during sacrament meeting. We could not say much to each other because of the language difference, but we could communicate. During the meeting, she got out a piece of paper and some crayons. I thought she was going to write something, but she whispered, “Let’s draw Mama.” She drew a small circle. Then she pointed to her eyes and gave me the piece of paper and a crayon. I understood that she wanted me to draw the eyes, and I did. I gave the crayon back to her, and she drew hair. Then I drew the dress, and she drew the arms. Eventually, the two of us had drawn a picture of my mother. I felt so happy! I showed it to Mama, and I gave Sister Compton a big hug.
She always had something to share with us. Often it was a children’s story she had written herself. One day she talked to me about Jesus Christ. Then we colored some pictures she had drawn of Jesus.
The day came when Brother and Sister Compton had to leave. I asked why. Mama told me they had a family who missed and needed them. I thought of Mama and how I could not be away from her for very long. That’s when I knew I had to let Sister Compton go.
Many years have passed since then. The letters between us have never stopped, and our friendship has become stronger. When I think of Sister Compton, I think of the words our Lord Jesus Christ left with His disciples: “This is my commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you” (John 15:12).
I fondly remember summer days when we Primary children made a game of hunting for treasure—a piece of candy, a flower, or a little toy hidden by an older child. How happy we were when we found the treasure! Since then I have found many beautiful and valuable treasures in my life. But one of my greatest treasures will always be the love of two special missionaries—my friends Avon and Merlin Compton.

A final example of the dedication that acts on the basis of this ethic rather than on the suggestion of a cost-benefit analysis is found in the life of Matthew Cowley. He had been attending the Latter-day Saint University in Salt Lake City, but as he finished his freshman year, he decided he did not want to return to school the next year; he wanted to go on a mission instead. He was only seventeen years old, but he was called and was soon on his way to New Zealand to work with the Maoris.
In his diary Elder Cowley tells how his best companions there were fleas, since they so faithfully stayed close to him. Here is one entry from that diary:
“After Karakia (prayer) was held in the evening, I went to my room, and before going to bed I fortified myself against the fleas. I rubbed flea powder all over my body and put a layer of it in the bed. I trust that will stupefy them. … On arising and looking in the bed [the next morning], I found the carcasses of a multitude of fleas, and it made me feel like Napoleon to be the victor of such a battle.”8
Elder Cowley had to learn the language from scratch, of course, and during the first three months he was without a companion. He went to a grove every morning at six o’clock to study the gospel and the language and to fast and pray. There he would remain for eleven hours each day. Within three months he was able to stand before a group of natives and preach the gospel in their tongue, and, as he says, “There was a burning in my bosom the like of which I have never felt before or since in my life.”

Let me tell you of a man Diane and I met in a small village outside of Hyderabad, India, in 2006. This man lived by covenant. Appa Rao Nulu was born crippled. His society taught him that his potential was severely limited. Likely, he could only become a beggar in the streets. However, as a teenager he met missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They taught him of a greater potential, both in this life and in the eternity to come. He was baptized and confirmed a member of the Church. With significantly raised vision, he set a goal to become an elder in the Melchizedek Priesthood and a full-time missionary. In 1987, he was ordained an elder and called to serve in India, which was then part of the Singapore Mission. Walking was not easy. He did his best using a cane in each hand and fell often, but quitting was never an option. He made a commitment (a covenant) to honorably and devotedly serve a mission, and he did.

When we met Brother Nulu, nearly 20 years after his mission, he cheerfully greeted us where the road ended and led us down an uneven dirt path to the one-room home he shared with his wife and three children. It was a very hot and uncomfortable day, about 110 degrees Fahrenheit. He still walked with great difficulty, but there was no self-pity. Through personal diligence, he has become a teacher, providing schooling for the village children. When we entered his modest house, he anxiously took me to a corner and pulled out a box that contained his most important possessions. He wanted me to see a piece of paper. It read "With good wishes and blessings to Elder Nulu, a courageous and happy missionary; June 25, 1987; Boyd K. Packer." On that occasion when then-Elder Packer was visiting India and speaking to a group of missionaries, he affirmed to Elder Nulu his potential. In essence, what Brother Nulu was doing was telling me he was living true to his covenants.

On this visit to the Nulu home, we were accompanied by the mission president. He was there to interview Brother Nulu, his wife and his children; for the parents to receive their endowments and be sealed, and for the children to be sealed to their parents. We also were able to present them with the financial arrangements for them to travel to the Hong Kong Temple for these ordinances, a gift made possible by generous members of the Church. They wept with joy as their long awaited dream was to be realized.

Weeks later, they arrived in Hong Kong; it was the first airplane ride that any member of the family had ever taken. Their excitement quickly turned to disappointment when immigration officials would not let them enter Hong Kong. Although they had secured visas, a judgment was made by these officials that this family may not return to India. After six hours of being held in a secured room at the airport and repeatedly being told they could not stay in Hong Kong and that they would immediately be sent back to their home country, the Nulus' prayers were answered. An official finally called our Church headquarters in Hong Kong and verified the purpose of the family's trip and a guarantee was made that they would return to India. They were allowed into Hong Kong based on the goodwill the Church had established. Imagine the emotion of working so hard to reach a goal and then to have it seemingly denied, only then to have it granted.

With that backdrop, the next day the Nulus entered the temple. In the Lord's divine management, Diane (the only person they knew in Hong Kong besides me) was working in the temple that day. When Sister Nulu unexpectedly saw Diane, she tightly embraced her and sobbed with joy. Diane was able to serve as Sister Nulu's escort during the endowment and she observed the sealing of this faithful couple and then the children to their parents. Their happiness was unspeakable. This represented an accomplishment of deep and abiding significance.

All students in Ireland are required to take religion class. Even though they go to early-morning seminary, these Latter-day Saint students are not excused from their school religion requirement. But their study of the scriptures has paid off. Louise explains, “Franciscan friars visited our school. When they were asking questions, they would point to me and put their fingers to their lips as if to say, ‘Shhh, don’t answer the questions.’ They knew I could answer them.”

Elaine tells a similar story about religion class. “If my teacher asked what a word means, like covenant, I would answer,” she says. “He knew I would know the answer no matter what he asked.”

Derek Fagan, age 17, has excelled in both school and seminary, and he credits an experience he had just before he received his patriarchal blessing: “We had been talking about patriarchal blessings in seminary. I prayed and asked if I should get mine. Our stake did not have a patriarch at that time, but three days later, our new patriarch was called. I felt it was my answer. That’s when I decided for myself that the Church is true and that I would try harder to do well and choose the right. My patriarchal blessing was amazing. I carry it with me everywhere. Since early-morning seminary started, everything has been clearer. Even in school, I learn very quickly now.”

Derek became the first seminary student in Ireland to memorize all the scripture mastery scriptures. As an extra challenge, he memorized the account of the First Vision as found in Joseph Smith—History.

Brandt Crowther remembers an experience he had a few months after he and his family arrived in Ireland: “I had prayed almost every night of my life, but one night, I prayed with sincerity and asked the Lord what He wanted me to do here in Ireland. I needed to know in my heart that the Church is true. I found out that God does live and He loves me. I gained an understanding of what He wanted me to do. Since then, I’ve been happy being here. I’ve loved it. I’m closer to the Savior now.”

Brandt explains some of the things the Lord told him he needed to do: “I needed to read the scriptures every day and pray every night and keep the commandments. That night the Spirit was with me. I didn’t want to go to bed.”

Seminary class often helped Farris find answers: “I received a testimony of prayer and of tithing. I would pray about things I really needed to find out about—and then it would click in seminary. I would understand things better. What is it like when the Spirit gives you an answer? You’re calm, and you understand things. You’re not nervous. You know it’s true. You feel it in your heart.”

The students in this seminary class enjoy being together. And now every weekday morning isn’t enough. They get together every Saturday night, too.

It all started when Louise’s mother told Brett that Louise’s friends always ask her to go to the pub with them on Saturdays, but she never goes. “We decided to get the whole class together and go out and have some fun,” says Brett. “We’ve been getting together every Saturday night. It’s good fun.”

What do they do? The first week they went to the cinema, but that quickly became too expensive. So they started going to each other’s houses to play games or watch videos or just talk and talk and talk. Elaine explains, “We used to have nothing to talk about; now we don’t have enough time to talk.”

For Louise, having something else to do on Saturdays has strengthened her resolve to stay strong in the Church. “It’s a reason for me not to go with my friends from work every weekend,” she explains. “Sometimes I used to go along. I didn’t do anything I shouldn’t, but just being there didn’t feel good. It eventually wears out your spirit. I got so tired of trying to speak up for myself. But when I go with the seminary class, I can just be me. I feel accepted.”

And most of all, “Saturday nights are fun,” says Pamela. “My other friends’ standards are completely different from mine. I feel much better going to the seminary activity. We have great fun.”

Derek adds, “Early-morning seminary and our activities on Saturday evenings have brought us closer, and we’re better friends. I’ve gotten a lot closer to everyone in the class, even Pamela, my sister. I wouldn’t even consider going out and getting drunk and breaking the Word of Wisdom.”

Most of all, this year of seminary has taught these students the meaning of faith. Their teacher, Rosemary Richmond, helps them learn from Church history about the faith of the early prophets and members. Her husband, Brendan, suffers from an extremely rare and damaging lung disorder and is confined to a wheelchair. Although she has the constant worry of her husband’s care and health, she is eager to prepare lessons and have the seminary class come each morning.

“Members here are very faithful, especially Rosemary, with all the trials she’s been through,” Louise says. “It makes you realize how lucky you are. In seminary we read about the Prophet Joseph Smith and the pioneers. Joseph Smith is a great man. I love him. The testimony he had never faltered. Can you imagine living back in those days? The pioneers had to walk halfway across North America just to practice what they believed. I want that sort of faith because I love the Church.”

Louise is developing that kind of faith. Every day she stands up for her beliefs. And with her small group of valiant seminary friends, she doesn’t have to stand alone. None of them do. They have found a way to strengthen each other. And that has made all the difference.

I remember the privilege of performing a sealing ceremony in the temple for a family I had known for many years. The scene was tranquil. The cares of the outside world had been temporarily discarded. The quiet and peace of the house of the Lord filled the heart of each one assembled in the room. I knew that this particular couple had been married for eighteen years and had never before been to the temple. I turned to the husband and asked, “Jack, who is responsible for bringing this glorious event to fulfillment?”
He smiled and pointed silently to his precious wife who sat by his side. I seemed to sense that this lovely woman was never more proud of her husband than at that particular moment. Jack then directed my attention to one of the brethren serving as witness to this ceremony and likewise acknowledged the great influence for good that he had had upon his life.
As the three beautiful children were sealed to their parents, I could not help noticing the tears which welled up in the eyes of the teenage daughter and then rolled down her cheeks, finally tumbling upon clasped hands. These were sacred tears, tears of supreme joy, tears that expressed the silent but eloquent gratitude of a tender heart too full to speak.
I found myself thinking, Oh, that such men and women would not wait eighteen long years to receive this priceless blessing.

In another situation, a sister’s mother passed away. A friend, knowing the sister’s loss, wanted to help, but was uncertain what she should do. Should she take flowers or food? Her husband suggested she ask the Lord what to take. The answer came, “Just go.” Upon her arrival, the sister was immediately comforted by her friend’s presence and asked her to pray with her. Then the grieved sister commented on what her friend had brought—a needed peace.

Students in the early-morning seminary classes in Irvine California used the Old Testament to inspire a service project. When they read the account of Elisha helping Naaman be cured of leprosy, they decided to find out about the disease. They were surprised to discover that between 11 and 15 million people still suffer from leprosy today. They also found out that the World Health Organization has approved a drug that has a 99 percent cure rate for leprosy. The drug treatments cost $150 per person.
The students knew what they wanted to do. They organized a read-a-thon, where sponsors promised to pay them for each book they read in the Old Testament. Their goal was to raise $150 to pay for one child’s treatment. But enthusiasm grew, and at the end of their project they had raised $1,100, enough to provide treatment for seven children.