Gospel Story Finder

Perhaps I was influenced too—as have been countless thousands of others—by the words of Charles Dickens as he wrote that immortal classic, A Christmas Carol. We recall the habitual response of “Bah! Humbug!” that Ebenezer Scrooge gave to any Christmas greeting. On one such occasion his cheerful nephew replied: “I have always thought of Christmastime … as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time … and I say, God bless it!”
Then you will remember Scrooge’s dream when the Ghost of Christmas Past appeared and said to him: “I wear the chain I forged in life. I made it link by link … and of my own free will I wore it.”
Thus Scrooge was reminded of his own neglect of his fellowmen and his heart began to soften. By the time of the appearance of the Ghost of Christmas Present, he was able to say, “Tonight, if you have aught to teach me, let me profit by it.”
Then when the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come appeared, Scrooge said: “I am prepared for what you have to say to me … with a thankful heart.”
As he was shown the sad fates of some he had failed to help and foresaw his own lonely death, he pleaded, “Assure me that I yet may change … [and] I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.”
He was overjoyed when he awakened and found that he was still alive and had time to make amends, which he promptly set about to do.

Brother and Sister Tsuya were well known for two things. First was the haircuts Brother Tsuya would give the missionaries.
The other thing the Tsuyas were known for was their incredible love and mission spirit. They spoke no Portuguese and spoke English with a thick accent. But they would take a box of copies of the Book of Mormon they bought with their own money to the fruit fair on the street each week and would always come back empty-handed. Their spirit was incredibly powerful.
One transfer day I had the chance to talk to Brother Tsuya. I found out that he had joined the Church in Hawaii. I told him that my grandfather had served a mission in Hawaii and was there during the attack on Pearl Harbor. Brother Tsuya was very surprised and said he had joined the Church then but didn’t remember an Elder Squire. I told him that it was my mom’s father, Elder Thurgood, who had served in Hawaii.
Brother Tsuya almost fell out of his chair and yelled out “Elder Thurgood is your grandpa?” He related the story of their meeting. He said while he was eating a meal in the Hawaiian community style, he was being inappropriate and was taking the Lord’s name in vain among other things. A missionary, my grandfather, had spoken up and asked him to stop. Brother Tsuya said he took the name of the Lord in vain again. He said that my grandpa had come over to him, hit him on the shoulder, and lectured him about how little he knew about life, how he wasn’t as smart as he thought, how he needed to quit smoking and do a bunch of things differently or he wouldn’t ever amount to anything.
Brother Tsuya told me that when he went home that night, he knew my grandpa was right. He thought about it and decided he wanted to make some changes. He ran into two similarly dressed missionaries a couple of weeks later and listened to the discussions with a sincere desire to change. Brother Tsuya gave much of the credit for his decision to listen to the missionaries to my grandpa.
I quickly wrote home telling my family I had huge news and that Grandpa Thurgood needed to be there when I made my telephone call at Christmas. When I called home, I finally told him that I had met somebody he brought into the Church. I will always remember how quiet he became as he said, “Ryan, you are mistaken. I never brought anybody into the Church on my mission.”
I asked him if he remembered hitting a smart-aleck Japanese kid at dinner in Hawaii and then lecturing him on how much he needed to change his life. He became instantly curious and said that he did remember the incident well. He was transferred away shortly after that and hadn’t heard more.
I told him that two weeks later that boy had decided to listen to the discussions because of what you said to him that night. He had later married in the temple in Hawaii. He had served in various callings in the Church and blessed many, many lives. He served as a mission president in Japan for three years. He also served as president of the MTC in Japan. He had served multiple missions with his wife.
My Grandpa Thurgood was in tears and couldn’t talk to me after that. He had spent over 50 years thinking his mission hadn’t made a difference to anybody. When the Tsuyas completed their mission in Brazil, my grandpa and his wife went to the temple with them and had a tearful reunion.

John and I soon met with the missionaries, and they gave us copies of the Book of Mormon. John readily accepted his copy; I was more hesitant. In basic training our only free time was the four hours we had for sleep, and I did not feel like we could waste a precious minute doing anything other than sleep. But John felt differently.
That night as I climbed into my bunk, I noticed a light coming from the bunk next to me. It was John reading the Book of Mormon instead of sleeping. The night guard for our barracks later approached and asked John what he was doing. John matter-of-factly replied, “I’m reading the Book of Mormon.” The guard responded, “Oh, John, you’re not reading those lies are you?” I grimaced on the top bunk. I knew I should defend John and the Book of Mormon, but I cowardly decided to roll over and act like I was asleep.
John climbed out of his bunk, stood up, and, addressing the guard boldly, stated, “This is another testament of Jesus Christ. You take that back.”
I lay in anguish all that night. I had failed to defend my God and my training partner. I felt like I had denied my Christ and denied my discipleship. I, who was a certified minister, had lain in bed, while John, after having the Book of Mormon for only a few hours, had bravely stood up to defend it. Overcome with shame and embarrassment, I knew that the only thing I could do was to read the Book of Mormon for myself.
As I began to read, it wasn’t long before I gained a testimony that the Book of Mormon is another testament of Jesus Christ. I was so excited and knew I had to share the good word with my adopted family. I wrote home to my pastor and eagerly explained what I’d learned. I was surprised, confused, and mostly sad when he wrote back telling me I could never go home to them again unless I stopped going to the LDS Church and reading the Book of Mormon. I wanted to remain close to my family, but by then I knew the Book of Mormon is true and that I would do everything in my power never to let God down again, even if it meant giving up my family (see Matthew 10:37–39).
So I did what I had to do. I got baptized.

“This has been a great day,” said new Eagle Scout Sam Southam of the Arapahoe Colorado Stake. “It was a real honor to sit at dinner with an astronaut, to spend the day with great Church and Scout leaders, and to be with friends who set a goal to become Eagles and who did it.”

Sam was referring to the day he and his fellow Eagle Scouts spent at the North American Aerospace Defense Command, where most of the man-made objects in space are tracked. They also toured the U.S. Olympic training facility, all as part of a reward their stake president promised them last June when he challenged all the Life Scouts in his stake to become Eagles by the end of the year.

Thirty-five Scouts rose to the challenge and practically flew to the Cheyenne Mountains, where they spent the day learning how others fly—pretty appropriate for a flock of Eagles.

To understand her influence, we need to look back to the refining, testing days of the pioneers, to her grandmothers.
Her paternal grandmother, Mary Goble, was thirteen years old when she came with her family to Utah from England. Her father drove a wagon which accompanied a pioneer handcart company.
Mary’s mother, sister, and brother all died on that terrible journey. Her feet were frozen, and later her toes were removed. Little Mary rode into the valley in the same wagon with the body of her mother.
Sister Hinckley’s maternal grandmother, Martha Elizabeth Evans, married George Paxman, the faithful son of a stake president. He knew carpentry, and they moved to Manti, Utah, where he worked on the temple there. They lived in a sod-roofed house and were happy companions sealed in the sacred covenants of the gospel.
Two months before their second child was born (Sister Hinckley’s mother), George Paxman was injured. He was setting in place the massive east doors of the temple. Perhaps one of the doors slipped a little and he strained to hold it in place.
Within the week he died an agonizing death as a result of internal injuries. Martha provided for her daughters by sewing for a living. She was a widow for sixty-two years, ever sweet, never losing faith. Her daughter’s daughter was to become the wife of an Apostle, a counselor to Presidents.
President Hinckley’s grandfather, Ira Nathanial Hinckley, lost his parents and was sent from Michigan to Springfield, Illinois, to live with his grandparents. As a teenager he walked to Nauvoo, Illinois, and met the Prophet Joseph Smith.
He traveled westward with the pioneers. During the U.S. Civil War he volunteered for service in the Union army guarding the transcontinental telegraph line. Later he was sent by Brigham Young to Cove Creek, Utah, where he built the fort that stands today.
On the trek west, Ira Hinckley stayed back for one season to plow the prairies and plant grain that he would not harvest. The harvest belonged to those who came afterward. The forebearers of Brother and Sister Hinckley planted fields of faith for those who followed them.
That spirit has come as a legacy to Brother Hinckley. He feels he does not own this legacy of faith but holds it in trust to protect and to increase for those who will come in the generations ahead. Worthy Saints would have it that way, earning blessings for their children and their children’s children. That “residual of faith,” as he calls it, is gathered from the influence of good people. It shows in both President and Sister Hinckley.
Brother Hinckley’s father, Bryant S. Hinckley, was one month old when Cove Fort was built. The family later moved to Fillmore, Utah, where Ira N. Hinckley was called to preside over the stake. Bryant S. Hinckley would follow in the footsteps of his father and preside over the Liberty Stake in Salt Lake City, then the largest stake in the Church with approximately fifteen thousand members. Gordon B. Hinckley would be the third generation to preside over a stake of Zion.
Bryant S. Hinckley received three gifts: a quick mind, a firm faith, and—something rare in those days—a good education.
He married and they had children. Then his wife died, leaving him with the little family to raise. At the time, he was president of Latter-day Saint Business College, and lovely Ada Bitner came to teach English and shorthand. She had gone to school in the east to learn a new type of shorthand and became the first in the area to teach the method. LeGrand Richards, a future Apostle, was one of her students. Another teacher at the school was young J. Reuben Clark, Jr., who would one day be counselor to Presidents.
Bryant and Ada were married, and the family increased. You do not say a “second” family or “another” family, for, as President Hinckley said, “We were all the same; it was one family.”
When Gordon was ordained a deacon and eligible to attend stake priesthood meeting, his father took the somewhat unwilling boy to his first meeting and, as a member of the stake presidency, went to the stand. Gordon stayed on the back row.
The congregation of men sang as the opening hymn “Praise to the Man.”
Praise to the man who communed with Jehovah
Jesus anointed that prophet and seer. …
Something happened! “There welled up in me an overwhelming conviction!” President Hinckley said later. A spirit of confirmation flowed into his heart, and a spirit of testimony affirmed to that boy deacon that Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. He knew it! He knew it! He knew it as firmly as he knew that he lived! From that moment on he was armed with that “residual of faith.”
Later, when the faith of this bright university student was challenged by doubts (always a part of the education of the young members of the Church), the memory of that moment sustained him. Even today, more than sixty years later, he cannot tell of that experience without putting a finger under his glasses to prevent a tear from rolling down his cheek.
That is a lesson for the youth of the Church. If Brother Hinckley came from the university shaken a bit in faith, he reestablished it forever by responding to a call to serve a mission in England. He had plans to attend Columbia University, New York, for an advanced degree in journalism, for he had a talent with words. But that must wait.
It was during the Depression, and because of an unfavorable monetary exchange rate at that time, England was the most expensive mission in the world. He began his missionary work in Preston, where the early Apostles had opened the work. He served as assistant to Elder Joseph F. Merrill, a member of the Twelve and President of the European Missions. G. Homer Durham, who later was to be a President of the First Quorum of the Seventy, was one of Elder Hinckley’s companions.

A recent example of perseverance occurred in Kasungu, Malawi. Having heard about the Church during his theological studies, Weston Kapasule yearned to learn more about the Savior’s gospel, but in 2013, missionaries had not yet been assigned to his rural town. Weston was undeterred, however. He found and repaired an old computer, connected it to the internet, and, using social media, contacted sister missionaries serving in the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission. For the next seven years, Weston was taught online by a variety of missionaries, who were joined by Amram Musungu, a native Kenyan and avid member missionary now living in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA. During that time, as mission presidents of the Zambia Lusaka Mission learned about Weston’s desire to have the gospel in his life, they sent senior missionaries to minister to him and to deliver copies of the Book of Mormon, lesson manuals and other materials.

But the time was not right for him to be baptized. Kasungu lies far from Blantyre or Lilongwe, the two areas where the Church was organized in Malawi and starting to build a strong foundation of branches. These population centers, known as centers of strength, are important to develop before the Church can be taken to outlying areas. This pattern of building the Church from centers of strength ensures strong leadership and a foundation of enduring support for members and new converts. Once centers of strength are well established, in the Lord’s timing, additional branches of the Church, such as now formed in Kasungu, may be organized.

As Weston gained a firm testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel, persevered in continually learning more, and waited patiently for baptism and the Church organization to reach Kasungu, he shared what he had learned with his family and with others—who brought still others into the Kasungu fold. The first resident missionaries were finally authorized in late 2019 and, after persevering in patience for years, members of the Kasungu group began to be baptized on the first day of February 2020. Weston was one of the first to enter the waters of baptism. He was joined by over one hundred others.

Was persevering difficult for Weston and those in Kasungu seeking the blessings of the Lord’s Church? Absolutely. But the challenges did not stop them from seeking and learning the Savior’s gospel or from developing their own testimonies.

“I think God’s grace was there for us,” said Weston. “We should not refrain from this truth and go back where we came from. This is exactly what made ourselves today to be who we are and what we are. So, I persevered. . . . I know that God wanted [us] to go through that process for us to be what we are today.”

Today, there is a branch of the Church in Kasungu and joy abounds.

In my life I have had opportunity to forgive and also to ask for forgiveness. What I have learned is when we are in a state of exacting justice, we cannot be glad.

Many years ago an injustice occurred in my life. After time and counseling with my bishop as well as professional counselors, I made the decision that I must let this be set aside and I must continue with my life. Many years later, forgiveness came in an unexpected way. As I reflect on it now, it is nice to know that I didn’t spend years feeling hateful and angry. Instead, I was able to accomplish good things without constantly reflecting on the injustice.

Lydia watched Mommy get ready for work. Mommy put on pretty pink lipstick. She looked beautiful.
Lydia looked in the mirror. She felt sad. “I don’t have any lipstick,” Lydia said. “So I’m not beautiful.”
Mommy hugged her tight. “Wearing lipstick isn’t what makes people beautiful. Being strong and kind makes people beautiful.
“You are strong and kind when your hands help others.
“You are strong and kind when your heart loves everyone.
“And you are strong and kind when you smile. That makes everyone happy too.
“Being strong and kind makes you beautiful inside, not just outside.”
Lydia wanted to be strong and kind!
She used her hands to carry the mail in for Grandpa. She gave her last cookie to her cousin.
She felt love in her heart when she played with a new neighbor. And she felt love when she gave coins to a girl collecting money for people who didn’t have homes.
She smiled at people she saw. They all smiled back.
That night Lydia told Mommy, “You are right! I feel strong and kind. I used my hands and my heart and my smile today.”
Mommy smiled. “You are strong and kind, just like Jesus wants you to be!”

Jahmin Tengu of New Zealand nearly took his own life. Wanting to know of the Lord’s love for him, he felt prompted to get on his knees.

He recalls, “As I began to pray, I felt the Spirit of the Lord comfort me. I asked the Lord to bring truth into my life.” A few weeks later, Jahmin met a returned missionary who yelled out to him and asked, “Would you like to meet the missionaries?”

This led to meeting the missionaries and receiving a copy of The Book of Mormon. “I had no desire to read it at all, but I had this feeling when I read it. I felt as if the Spirit was saying, ‘I have given you what you asked for, I have answered your prayers.’”

Now, a missionary himself, Elder Tengu says, “I can truly testify that The Book of Mormon saved my life. . . . It is the word of God and is solely focused on bringing people closer to Jesus Christ.”

Today I asked Father to teach me to chop and split wood. He replied that Mother would not have wanted me to do a man’s work. That is true. Mother always wanted me to be a lady. But Father has too much to do. He can get no man to help with the farm and no woman to help in the house because we are Mormons. I explained that I keep running out of wood for the range, and if we want hot meals, I must learn to handle an ax.
So he taught me. It is harder than it appears, and tonight my hands are blistered badly. I intend to wear my second-best Sunday gloves tomorrow when I chop.

Nearly one year ago, our daughter Alisa died. She had struggled with cancer for almost eight years, with several surgeries, many different treatments, exciting miracles, and deep disappointments. We watched her physical condition deteriorate as she came to the close of her mortal life. It was excruciating to see that happen to our precious daughter—that bright-eyed little baby who had grown up to be a talented, wonderful woman, wife, and mother. I thought my heart would break.
Last year at Easter time, a little over a month before she passed away, Alisa wrote: “Easter is a reminder of all that I hope for myself. That someday I will be healed and someday I will be whole. Someday I won’t have any metal or plastic inside of me. Someday my heart will be free of fear and my mind free of anxieties. I am not praying that this happens soon, but I am so glad I truly believe in a beautiful afterlife.”
Each of us has physical, mental, and emotional limitations and weaknesses. These challenges, some of which seem so intractable now, will eventually be resolved. None of these problems will plague us after we are resurrected. Alisa researched survival rates for persons with the type of cancer she had, and the numbers were not encouraging. She wrote: “But there is a cure, so I’m not scared. Jesus has already cured my cancer, and yours. … I will be better. I’m glad I know this.”
I long to see my mother again and feel her gentle touch and look into her loving eyes. I want to see my father’s smile and hear his laugh and see him as a resurrected, perfect being. With an eye of faith, I picture Alisa completely beyond the reach of any earthly troubles or any sting of death—a resurrected, perfected Alisa, victorious and with a fulness of joy.
A few Easters ago, she wrote simply: “Life through His name. So much hope. Always. Through everything. I love Easter to remind me.”

My family was flying from Buenos Aires, Argentina, to a town in the north of that country called Posadas. I am 15, and although I had been on airplanes before, I was not used to flying in a plane as small as this one. It held about 50 people and must have been about 50 years old. I got a shiver down my back at the thought of crashing, but dismissed it. The plane was a little shaky, like me at that moment, but I was not terrified because I was with my family.
As we began to cross over a large body of water the plane started to tremble and shake a lot. That was when I felt terror. So I closed my eyes and, almost instinctively, said a prayer. I had learned to always pray when in trouble.
As I was asking my Heavenly Father for protection I felt a calm assurance that everything would be all right. I opened my eyes and looked out my window. It was early morning, and while I had been saying my prayer the sunlight and the lake had merged to make the sky and water a deep blue—both foaming with puffs of heavenly white. It was one of the most beautiful sights I had ever beheld. My fear was gone, and the clouds that once caused the plane to tremble now seemed like Heavenly Father’s loving arms.
Safe in the knowledge that the Lord was watching over us, I began to study the water and the sky for some time, imagining the raging storms that must occur in both. And I thought about my own life, with all of the daily problems, or storms, that I am constantly getting caught in.
Though I’ve been a member of the Church all my life, I had never realized so fully the influence Heavenly Father can have. I knew he has provided an escape from the storms of the world. I realized that by praying, and by holding to the iron rod, I can rise above the storms and reach the emotional and spiritual heights where I can feel his love.
For 15 years I had prayed every day, but I never knew if it was really helping. But on that day in the sky over Argentina, a simple prayer opened my eyes. It was only a starting point, but it helped me understand how much love Heavenly Father has for me. That’s one of the many ways I know that he lives and that I should always call on him in prayer.

When the school bell rang on Friday afternoon, big white snowflakes were falling thick and fast. It was the last day of school before Christmas vacation, and the world looked like a wintry wonderland.
But the activity day girls of the East Mill Creek Fourth Ward in Salt Lake City, Utah, had more to think about than making snowmen or going sledding. They had a mission of love. This afternoon they would be making hats and scarves to keep other children warm on frosty days.
Right after school, the girls bundled up and headed to the church. They stomped the snow off their shoes and took off their coats. Then it was straight to work.
The girls turned the Relief Society room into a busy, colorful workshop. At one table, girls cut cozy fleece and fringed and tied the ends to make scarves.
Other girls sat in a circle and knitted warm hats for children and infants. Using special knitting frames, even the youngest girls became expert hat makers.
At another table, girls made snowy white pom-poms to give the hats a fun finishing touch. Abby C., age 10, also brought a quilt she made at home to donate to the project.
The girls would give all their handiwork to the Humanitarian Center. They were happy to know that somewhere in the world, on another cold winter day, some other children just like them will be warmer.
“This was a great opportunity,” said Olivia V., age 9. “It was our dream to help people.”

On a trip to visit my brother, I was seated in the back of the plane where the flight attendants sit. The two rows of seats in that area face each other.
I introduced myself to the people sitting around me and then mentioned that I would be attending Brigham Young University. A man sitting across from me said his daughter had a good friend who had just left on a full-time mission. His daughter knew a little about the Church, but he knew almost nothing. The flight attendant immediately proclaimed that she wouldn’t want to belong to “that church” because it opposed women. The man said he had heard something similar—that Latter-day Saint women were considered less than men, that they couldn’t hold the priesthood or preside in meetings, and that the Church was male dominated.
Then, turning to me, he asked, “How do you feel about that?” All seven people turned to me and waited.
My heart began pounding. As a child I had memorized the Articles of Faith for just such an encounter, and as a teenager and young adult I had practiced bearing testimony of Joseph Smith’s vision and of the Book of Mormon. But I didn’t have the faintest idea how to answer the man’s question. I prayed silently for Heavenly Father to guide me.
Then I said the first words that came to my mind: “You simply don’t know about Relief Society.” The looks on their faces indicated that they didn’t.
“The priesthood functions in conjunction with the women, all of whom are members of Relief Society,” I explained. “We have a woman Relief Society president who guides the activities of the women in the Church all over the world. The responsibility of the women is to bring tenderness and charity into the lives of the members and especially into the lives of their families.”
The people around me listened attentively.
“We live in a strange time when some women want women to act and think and be like men. But we believe God divides tasks. We expect women to be leaders among the women and joint leaders in their homes. The men lean heavily on us for counsel in these areas. It is a righteous balance. It makes our Church organizations and our homes successful. And we truly believe that the man is not without the woman, nor is the woman without the man in the Lord (see 1 Corinthians 11:11). We believe we are not whole without each other. We do not believe we were created to compete with one another but to complement one another.”
I felt blessed when I had finished. I knew the words I had spoken were from the Spirit. Every person seemed satisfied with my explanation. Then the man said, “Tell us more about your church.”
Then, for the next two hours, I had the joyous opportunity of talking about the Restoration, answering questions, and bearing testimony of the gospel I love.

We are grateful President Dallin H. Oaks will be our concluding speaker. When I was a new freshman at Brigham Young University and President Oaks was the new president of Brigham Young University, we spoke together on a panel for parents and prospective students. As I waited nervously for the program to begin, President Oaks leaned over to assure me. With a warm smile, he said he was wearing a red tie because he was celebrating his 40th birthday and was feeling old. To me, as a new freshman, 40 did seem pretty old!

When I married into the Hopkins family, I quickly discovered that my husband and stepkids already had some wonderful family traditions. For example, when a child in our family graduates from high school, we make them a large, heavy quilt made of old jeans. Measuring and cutting hundreds of squares from jeans takes time, and when I helped my husband with the quilt of our oldest daughter, I remember lots of hand cramping. Tying the quilt together stitch by stitch also takes time; we have to use industrial-strength sewing needles to push through each thick jean square and the backing material behind it. Then we check each stich to fix all the places where the yarn didn’t get pulled through all the way. As you can imagine, it’s a long process.
Just recently, my stepdaughter Shannon graduated from high school. She worked hard to graduate early, and I wanted our family to try to get her quilt done before she started what I knew would be a very cold winter semester at BYU-Idaho. But I also knew finishing before January would be a big challenge—my husband and I both work full time, we have demanding church callings, and we have younger kids to take care of as well.
While I was trying to figure out how we would find time to work on Shannon’s blanket, I saw on Facebook Marketplace that someone was selling pre-cut jean squares for quilts. I also got in touch with a few people in my ward who love to sew. I remember one night excitedly reporting to my husband that I had solved the quilt problem. We could just buy the material, order some pre-cut jean squares, get some help from people in the ward to sew it, and voila! It would all be done before Shannon started college. My husband was quiet for a while, and then he finally turned to me and said: “I really appreciate your help, but I don’t want someone else to make the quilt. The time it takes to make it is part of the gift.“
I knew immediately that he was right. The more I considered what he said, the more I was reminded of President Thomas S. Monson’s counsel to “never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved.“ [1] Because I was thinking of the quilt as a problem to be solved, I had missed the entire point of making it in the first place. It wasn’t just a graduation gift. The quilt is a symbol of our family’s love, and as Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf once taught, love is spelled T-I-M-E. [2]
I’ll be honest with you. My family still hasn’t finished Shannon’s quilt. But we’re working on it. We’re close! And when we do finally finish it, I know that she will feel not only the warmth of a thick blue jean quilt but the love of her family. She will know that she was worth our time and so much more.

Let me cite an instance: A young [man] was invited to a wedding in a foreign country, at which two of his acquaintances were joined together in the bonds of matrimony, the ceremony being performed by a minister of another church. This young man was the only Latter-day Saint present among the 100 or more guests at the table in the hotel. By each plate was a wine cup, filled to the brim, and also a glass of water.
After the ceremony, as the guests were all in their places, the minister arose and said, “Now I propose that the company drink the health of the newly married couple.” They all arose. Politeness suggested that he take the wine cup. He was a missionary; he belonged to the Church that preaches the Word of Wisdom, revealed directly from God to the Prophet Joseph. Science since then has proved it to be indeed a word of wisdom. He was preaching that, and he was living it. Yet here was a time when he could indulge, no one would know. But he resisted. Now was the time to defend his Church, and that is what he did.
He took the glass of water, and some of his friends by him, dropping their wine cups, followed his example, and at least half a dozen wine glasses remained untouched. Others saw it, and the circumstance gave an excellent opportunity to talk with these guests about the Word of Wisdom.
Was he humiliated? No, he was strengthened. Were the guests embarrassed? No. Did they feel to condemn him? No. Condemnation was replaced by admiration, as it always is in the hearts of intelligent and God-fearing men and women. …

Earlier in the day, we had taken about a dozen reporters and members of the media through the temple. Each had come to cover the temple open house as part of his or her work obligations and had a busy morning setting up cameras and microphones and testing equipment for a media event to follow. So initially they entered the temple out of a sense of duty, with mild curiosity and perhaps a little skepticism as to why they should take the time when they had so much else to do. However, as we progressed from room to room, the curiosity gave way to respect and to a feeling of profound reverence and peace. Before entering the celestial room, we invited them to take time to consider their personal feelings about God and, if they wished, to meditate or pray. To our amazement, almost every member of that group of worldly professionals then sat in the celestial room with heads bowed. A beautiful feeling came over all present. We felt impressed to share our personal testimonies of how wonderful it is to come to the temple and to leave outside the cares and worries of the world as we focus on the Savior and feel the presence of His Spirit.

I didn’t grow up as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, but through some members I met, I learned that when someone lives a clean, pure life, the Light of Christ shines in them. They become powerful examples.
My first contact with the Church was through a friend I made in college. He was a very good member of the Church who had served a mission. I had grown up in a Catholic family, so he often tried to start conversations with me about religion. But I wasn’t really interested. My friend was very clever though, and he tried again to introduce me to the Church—by setting me up on a blind date with a Latter-day Saint girl.
The minute Renée and I went on our first date, I fell in love with her completely. She was so beautiful to me. I could tell there was something special about her. Soon afterward, I was ready to be serious with her and to form a family—but after several dates, she said we shouldn’t date anymore because she liked me “too much” and she wanted to get married in the temple. To make things even worse for me, she soon left on a mission. After that, I decided I did not like the Latter-day Saints.
When she came back from her mission, our common friend invited me to a party where I could see Renée, and we started spending time together again. I had graduated from college and had a very good job, and I once again felt ready to get married. I thought I was quite a catch, so I proposed. She said no.
To keep the relationship going, I accepted the invitation to listen to the missionaries. One time she came to me and, with tears in her eyes, bore testimony of the Book of Mormon and begged me to read it. She wanted me to gain a testimony of the gospel so that she could fulfill her desire to marry in the temple. I loved her and didn’t want to disappoint her, so I said that I would. But even though I agreed to meet the missionaries, I initially met with them only so that I could buy some more time to convince Renée to marry me. I had no intention of joining a new religion.
After a few appointments with the missionaries, I still wasn’t interested. I would sit through their lessons, but I didn’t really pay attention or try to feel the Spirit. My heart was closed, because I wasn’t listening to the missionaries for me; I was listening to them for Renée. Things were going nowhere, and I still couldn’t convince Renée that I would be a good husband to her without being baptized. She stayed strong in her beliefs.
Then there was a change in the missionaries. A new missionary came to teach me, and he had an idea. He had me open the scriptures to Alma 42, and he asked me if I would read the chapter aloud to them, verse by verse. But instead of just reading it word-for-word, he wanted me to read my name into it. I didn’t really want to, but he insisted.
So I started with the first verse. “And now, Joaquin …” As soon as I read those words, the book started to talk to me. As I put my name in, I felt the power of a personal testimony.
The next part of Alma 42 teaches about the Fall of Adam and Eve, and finally comes the plan of redemption. When I came to verse 29 and read, “And now, Joaquin, I desire that ye should let these things trouble you no more,” I started to cry like a baby. I’d never cried like that before. I knew that the Book of Mormon was true—but I couldn’t even finish reading the chapter. When I finally composed myself, I told the missionaries I wanted to get baptized. Renée was so happy. I was baptized, and she finally agreed to marry me. A year later, we were sealed in the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple.
I am so grateful for Renée’s commitment to live the gospel and marry in the temple. Her faithful dating commitment not only strengthened her relationship to God and the gospel, but invited me to learn about the gospel as well. I know why she was so beautiful to me: because she was so clean, loving, and pure. Because of her faithfulness, I was able to develop a personal testimony of the Book of Mormon and this Church.

I affirm to you, my young brethren and sisters, that that principle of revelation is a constantly operative principle, and I close with one other experience.
I was organizing a stake in Samoa. There appeared before us in the interviews these wonderful Samoan brethren. One of them, a branch president, stood there—white shirt and tie, lava-lava tied around his waist, barefooted. I told him we were organizing a stake and seeking a stake president and asking his suggestions on men. He said, “Yes, I know. I’ve prayed about this.” And he said, “I ’ve come to know, by the voice of the Spirit, that Bishop Iona will be our new stake president.”

He was right. But I wasn’t anxious to have him make the announcement and so pressed him for another name.

He said, “No, just one name.”

And I said, “Suppose he were not available or not eligible? Won’t you suggest another name?” He stood for a few minutes, and then, looking at me, he said, “Brother Packer, are you asking me to go against the witness of the Spirit?” This wonderful man was possessed of that Spirit, as all of us can be, each of us answering the calls that come.