Gospel Story Finder

“They even showed us their new lime-green fire engine,” recalled Andrea Owens, Laurel class president.
The Laurels in the Wichita Kansas First Ward thought it would be a good idea to get to know the firemen in the area near the ward house. Because they know firemen spend a lot of time in the station, they chose to prepare a “goodie box” for the men.
The girls called ward members and asked them for copies of the Ensign, New Era, Book of Mormon, and other magazines or books that they might have on hand. Each girl contributed a batch of her favorite cookies. The magazines and cookies were delivered in a gaily decorated box.
Six members of the class and their adviser walked to the station during activity night. Andrea explained a little about the Church and the Young Women program. The firemen returned the favor by giving the girls a tour of the station and their equipment.
“The firemen were happy to see us,” added Andrea. “They asked us to come back any time. And we asked them to come quickly if there was ever a fire at the church!”

One Sunday while serving as a bishop in Mexico, I sat on the stand just before sacrament meeting and noticed a sister come into the chapel. She was a recent convert and always seemed shy. The Spirit prompted me to find out how the ward council could help her feel more comfortable at church. I asked the Relief Society president to reach out to this sister.

Sometime later, the Relief Society president told me, “Bishop, this sister really needs to have teeth replaced.”

This was one of the reasons this sister was so shy. She didn’t talk or smile because she didn’t want anyone to see her teeth. The Relief Society president asked what we should do. I decided to arrange for a dentist to examine her and find out what needed to be done.

“Are you sure?” the Relief Society president asked. “It could be expensive.”

I told her we could go ahead. As a ward, we found a way to help this sister. When I saw her again, she was talking and smiling. I had never seen her smile before!

From that point on, this sister’s life changed. She became a more active member of the ward and eventually went to the temple. Today she is a temple ordinance worker. I am sure if I ever go to the temple where she serves, I will see her smiling.

I continued my services in the parish, but my preaching was mixed with the new words of the book. The members of my congregation were so interested that they became dissatisfied with my colleagues’ sermons. When members began leaving the chapel during their sermons and remained when I occupied the pulpit, my colleagues became angry with me.
The beginning of real discord began Christmas Eve, 1910. In my sermon that evening, I told the story of the birth and mission of Jesus Christ as given in my new book. When I had finished, some of my colleagues publicly contradicted all I had said. They denounced me and turned me over to the Committee of Censure for disciplinary action.
When I appeared before this committee, the members gave what they supposed to be fatherly advice. They counseled me to burn the book, which they said was of the devil, since it had caused so much trouble and had destroyed the harmony of the pastoral brothers. I replied, “I will not burn the book because of the fear of God. I have asked him if it were true, and my prayer was answered affirmatively and absolutely, which I feel again in my soul as I defend his cause now.” I felt then that the day would come when the source of the book would be known to me and I would be able to enjoy the effects of the faith that led me to solemnly resist the Committee of Censure.
Not until 1914 was I once again brought before the council. A church official spoke in a friendly way, suggesting that the sharp words at the previous hearing may have provoked me, which was regrettable, since they all loved me. However, he said, I must remember that obedience is the rule and that I must burn the book.
I could not deny the words of the book nor burn it, since in so doing I would offend God. I said that I looked forward with joy to the time when the church to which the book belonged would be made known to me and I could become part of it. “Enough! Enough!” the official cried. He then read the decision, of the council:
I was to lose my position as a pastor of the church and of every right and privilege I had previously enjoyed.
In November 1914, I was back in my native Italy, and called to serve in the Italian army and fought in France. Once I told some men in my company the story of the people of Ammon—how they had refused to shed the blood of their brothers and had buried their weapons rather than be guilty of such great crimes. The chaplain reported me to the commanding officer, and the next day I was escorted to his office. He asked me to tell him the story I had told. Then he asked how I had come into possession of the book. I received as punishment a ten-day sentence of bread and water, with the order that I was to speak no more of the book.
After the end of the war, I returned to New York, where I met an old friend, a pastor of my former church. He interceded for me with the synod, and I was finally admitted to the congregation as a lay member. As an experiment, it was agreed that I should accompany one of the pastors on a mission to New Zealand and Australia.
In Australia, we met some Italian immigrants who asked questions about the errors in some Bible translations. They were not satisfied with my companion’s answers. When they asked me about it, I once again told the story of Christ’s appearance to the people of America. When they asked me where I had learned such teachings, I told them of the book I had found. The story was good to them but bad for my colleague. He reported me to the synod, and once again they cut me off from the church.
I returned to Italy shortly after. Then, in May 1930, while looking in a French dictionary for some information, I suddenly saw the entry “Mormon.” I read the words carefully and found that a Mormon Church had been established in 1830 and that this church operated a university at Provo [Brigham Young University, Utah]. I wrote to the university president, asking for information about the book and its missing pages. I received an answer two weeks later telling me that my letter had been passed on to the president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
On June 16, 1930, President Heber J. Grant answered my letter and sent a copy of the Book of Mormon in Italian. He informed me that he would also give my request to Elder John A. Widtsoe, president of the European Mission, with headquarters in Liverpool, England. A few days later, Elder Widtsoe wrote to me, sending me a pamphlet that contained the story of the Prophet Joseph Smith, the gold plates, and the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. Finally, I had learned the rest of the story of the torn book I had found on top of a barrel of ashes.
On June 5, 1932, Elder Widtsoe came to Naples to baptize me, but a revolution had started in Sicily, and the police at Palermo refused to let me leave the island. The following year, Elder Widtsoe asked me to translate the Joseph Smith pamphlet into Italian and to have 1,000 copies published. I took my translation to a printer, Joseph Gussio, who took the material to a Catholic bishop. The bishop ordered the printer to destroy the material. I sued the printer, but all I received from the court was an order to him to return the original booklet.
When Elder Widtsoe was released as president of the mission in 1934, I started correspondence with Elder Joseph F. Merrill, who succeeded him. He arranged to send me the Millennial Star, which I received until 1940 when World War II interrupted the subscription.
In January 1937, Elder Richard R. Lyman, successor to President Merrill, wrote that he and Elder Hugh B. Brown would be in Rome on a certain day. I could meet them there and be baptized. However, the letter was delayed because of war conditions, and I did not receive it in time.
From then until 1949, I was cut off from all news of the Church, but I remained a faithful follower and preached the gospel of the dispensation of the fulness of times. I had copies of the standard works, and I translated chapters into Italian and sent them to acquaintances with the greeting, “Good day. The morning breaks—Jehovah speaks!”
On February 13, 1949, I sent a letter to Elder Widtsoe at Church headquarters in Salt Lake City. Elder Widtsoe answered my letter on October 3, 1950, explaining that he had been in Norway. I sent him a long letter in reply in which I asked him to help me to be quickly baptized, because I felt that I had proven myself to be a faithful son and servant of God, observing the laws and commandments of his kingdom. Elder Widtsoe asked President Samuel E. Bringhurst of the Swiss-Austrian Mission to go to Sicily to baptize me.
On January 18, 1951, President Bringhurst arrived on the island and baptized me at Imerese. Apparently, this was the first baptism performed in Sicily. Then, on April 28, 1956, I entered the temple at Bern, Switzerland, and received my endowment. At last, to be in the presence of my Heavenly Father! I felt that God’s promise had been fully fulfilled—the day had come indeed when the source of the book was known to me and I was able to enjoy the effects of my faith.

The remaining youth split off into two groups, to undertake two projects for Colchester Borough Council, in an area local to the Colchester chapel. Tasked with clearing the overgrown boundaries of Westlands Country Park and the Prettygate Library car park and nearby shop parade, the youth and leaders got to work and made quite a difference. Residents came out of their homes to praise them for their efforts and expressed thanks on the local community Facebook page. Comments included, “Wonderful to see the youngsters, who worked great as a team in the cold and the wind. They are role models for the community”, “Thank you to the young people of the parish for all their hard work and especially to the young man who helped me tip heavy rubbish into our council bin, thank you”, and “I stopped to thank them on behalf of the people of Westlands. It’s so great to see young people getting actively involved in community work. Well done.”
Councillor Leigh Tate, who was present, wrote to Ipswich Stake President Robert Schwartz, to express thanks:
“We were completely and utterly blown away by what they achieved in such a short space of time, and the enthusiasm with which they did so.
“As Councillor Buston said to the teams, ‘I hope they understand the impact they have made and felt good about their day yesterday; with the sense of achievement and the knowledge of how doing small, kind things for others has a real impact on the community. I hope these are lessons that they will take forward with them in life, that kindness costs nothing and is always the best way and that so much more can be achieved when you work as a team.’
“Once again, I offer my sincere thanks on behalf of us all and I do hope that you can extend our very grateful thanks to the young people for making such a positive difference to our community.”

I was born in Salt Lake City but raised in Whittier, California, a suburb about 30 miles east of Los Angeles. I was raised in a home where, during my early years, we were less active. When I turned 11, we moved to a new home and began to attend church more frequently. We were sealed in the temple when I was 13. Now my brothers and I are all active members of the Church. We have all served missions. My brothers and I were married in the temple, but these are not things you would have predicted based on our early years.

One day a stranger came to our door. She introduced herself as Barbara and told us that she was looking for household work so that she could pay her power bill. My mother invited her in and listened to her. Mother told her that we didn’t have much money but that we would share what we had. Mother asked if she would clean a window to earn some money. While she was cleaning, we talked to her and found out that she had three young children and no job and had just recently moved from another city.
As she cleaned the window, we felt impressed that she needed some clothes, toys, and food for her children. My little sister, my mother, and I began preparing a box for her to take home. I put some of my toys in the box for the children. I wanted to give something more, so I decided to give her the money that I had been saving for a toy that I really wanted, money I had earned by working at my Grandpa Brown’s house.
I also wanted to share the gospel with her. I knew it would help her. It is so important to my life, and I knew it could help her family, too. I gave her a copy of the Book of Mormon and explained that we belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I bore my testimony. I taught her the plan of salvation, using a chart that I had. She listened and took the Book of Mormon.
After some lunch, Barbara left. My mother read Matthew 25:34–40 to my little sister and me and told us that when we helped Barbara, it was as if we had done those things to the Savior. I felt the Spirit, and I knew that I had done something that Jesus would have done for another.

My wife and I had the opportunity to serve as religious volunteers at the Utah State Prison. We, along with other LDS volunteers, would meet with the men housed in a small portion of the prison each Sunday for worship services and for a Sunday school class. We would also attend weeknight classes about Gospel related topics. We met many men who had made very serious mistakes and were trying to put their lives back together. They were staying alert to messages that Heavenly Father was sending them and trying to adjust their life scripts. There seemed to be two overriding messages that came to me in our time there:
The first message was to our friends in the prison: “You are not alone.” In our Sunday worship services, this message was whispered by the Spirit over and over. As these men continued in their efforts to attend their church meetings, there was a distinct difference that I felt, especially in these worship meetings. The witness of the Holy Ghost was as strong in these meetings, within the walls of a state prison, as in any similar worship meetings I have attended anywhere in the world. Our Savior will reach out to us wherever we are, whatever our circumstance, as we are seeking Him with real intent. The atonement of Jesus Christ is available to each of us to soothe our wounds. You and I are not lost. We are not alone; He reaches out to us still.

The second message we learned within the walls of the prison was to us as volunteers: “We are more alike than we are different.” Although these men were in prison, they essentially had the same opportunities we all have, to follow our Savior’s example of service to others. We all make mistakes. By ourselves, we are all lost. The answer for all of us, whether within the walls of a prison or free to roam as we wish, is the atonement of Jesus Christ. Our Savior Jesus Christ has paved the road for us to enter back into the presence of our Father in Heaven. We met men, who through consistent efforts, were able to harvest the blessings of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, to reap the blessings our Savior has sown in our behalf. I invite each of us to take His outstretched hand and return to the wonder of our Savior’s arms.

As the Ellsworth Company started its third month of travel, food supplies began to dwindle. During this part of the journey, the pioneers were blessed to come across many buffalo on the Plains. The pioneers replenished their food supplies by shooting a few buffalo, cooking and eating the fresh meat, and then drying some meat for the days ahead. Buffalo chips were used, in the absence of wood, to build fires for warmth and for cooking. The pioneers spent many hours repairing the handcarts that often carried up to 500 pounds of goods over hard roads, through numerous streams and rivers, and up sandy bluffs from Florence, Nebraska, to the Salt Lake Valley. Meanwhile, the Saints already in the valley were organizing to help the approaching companies. Food was sent in wagons to Deer Creek to help the pioneers on the last leg of their journey.
1
Crossed Prairie Creek twice—second time brethren had to carry handcarts across (16 miles)
2
Forded two creeks; saw many buffalo; camped at Wood River (18 miles)
3
Sunday—rested and mended handcarts; ate shellfish from river (no miles)
4
Roads good; camped near Platte River (18 miles)
5
Roads pretty good; wood plentiful; water merely sufficient (16 miles)
6
Saw thousands of buffalo—killed four, which furnished camp with good supply of meat (12 miles)
7
No water found all day; at night dug for water, which was sufficient but very thick (25 miles)
8
Traveled without finding water; Brother Sanders somehow left behind; men unsuccessfully searched for him (13 miles)
9
Found Brother Sanders five miles ahead of camp; brought him to camp on a mule (13 miles)
10
Sunday—many ill; camped in excellent place near cold spring (14 miles)
11
Four men sent to shoot two buffalo; one milk cow died (17 miles)
12
Dried buffalo meat and repaired handcarts (no miles)
13
Roads difficult to travel, owing to rainfall last night (12 miles)
14
Travel hard; one handcart broke down (18 miles)
15
Forded five creeks; camped by Rattlesnake Creek, 352 miles from Florence (14 miles)
16
Camped on east bank of Wolf Creek; buffalo chips not plentiful; good grazing for cattle (17 miles)
17
Sunday—Brother Peter Stalley died; camped opposite Ash Hollow (12 miles)
18
Forded Hustle Creek; camped on banks of Platte River (19 miles)
19
Plenty of buffalo chips to burn; camped opposite Ancient Bluff Ruins (20 miles)
20
Started out at 7:30 A.M.; crossed sandy bluffs; camped by Platte River (20 miles)
21
Tolerably good road; camped two miles past Chimney Rock (16 miles)
22
Delayed in travels for three hours by thunderstorm; camped on Platte River half a mile from Spring Creek (21 miles)
23
Captain Ellsworth shot a buffalo, which was very thankfully received (16 miles)
24
Sunday—at evening meeting, Brother Ellsworth admonished those who had robbed handcarts or wagons to repent (no miles)
25
Saw many Indians; plenty of wood—quite a treat after burning buffalo chips (19 miles)
26
Forded North Fork of Platte River; camped three miles from Fort Laramie (17 miles)
27
Bacon and meal porridge for supper—best supper for many weeks (21 miles)
28
Camped near Horseshoe Creek, 4:30 P.M.; washed clothes and mended handcarts (15 miles)
29
Forded Platte River and camped where wood was plentiful and feed fair (25 miles)
30
Met two Californians, who said wagons from Salt Lake were waiting to meets Ellsworth Company at Deer Creek (19 miles)
31
Sunday—Brother Stoddard died of consumption; at Deer Creek met wagons with provisions for last part of journey (24 miles)

Mariah Atkin is a great example of listening to the Holy Ghost. Mariah loves the animals Heavenly Father has given us to enjoy. One day Mariah’s rabbit, Licorice, had babies. For some reason, Licorice didn’t know how to be a good mother. She didn’t keep her babies warm or let them nurse. Mariah tried everything she could think of to help the babies, but four of them died.
Mariah was so upset that she ran to a private spot in the yard and started to cry. Then she began to pray, asking Heavenly Father to please bless the babies that were still alive. Mariah went back and found the tiny babies huddled together, trying to stay warm.
A thought came into Mariah’s mind: “Take Licorice out of her cage, place a towel over her face and front paws, and hold the babies up to nurse.”
Mariah felt that the thought was from the Holy Ghost, and she was careful to obey. It worked! Mariah helped the babies nurse for three weeks, twice during the day and once in the middle of the night. They are now healthy bunnies with wonderful homes.
Mariah has learned that Heavenly Father loves everything and knows what is happening in our lives. He hears our prayers and helps us make a difference for good when we listen to the Holy Ghost.

Once a General Authority visited a ward in Hong Kong where people were struggling to support their families. He told the bishop that the members should pay their tithing.
The bishop was worried. The people barely had enough food and money to meet their needs.
“If they will pay their tithing, the Lord will bless them,” the General Authority said.
The bishop thought for a moment. Then he said, “I will talk to some of the most faithful members of our ward—the Primary children!”
The next Sunday, the bishop visited the Primary. He taught the children about the law of tithing. He asked them to pay tithing on the money they earned. The children promised they would—and they did!
Several months later, the bishop had a meeting with the grown-ups in the ward. He told them that their children had been paying tithing.
“Would you be willing to pay tithing too?” he asked.
The grown-ups were touched by the children’s faithful examples. They said that they would pay their tithing too. Because the children set an example, their families received the blessings they needed (see Malachi 3:8–10). Everyone’s faith and testimonies grew.

But two young men from Ogden, Utah, set a goal that was a learning experience, a great character builder, and a goal that, as far as we know, has never been achieved before, especially by two brothers. Since they have been Scouts, Chad and Craig Carson, ages 15 and 16, have each earned every merit badge that has been offered by the Boy Scouts of America. Each has 127 merit badges. This is actually more merit badges than are now offered because some have been discontinued since Chad and Craig earned them. Both boys are Eagle Scouts and have found the Scouting program an exciting general education in itself. Their dad has figured that they have done enough reading, research, and study to qualify as sophomores in college.

Craig and Chad didn’t start earning all those merit badges until two years ago. Chad, the younger of the two, had a little catching up to do, but once the brothers were working together, they spent some time almost every day working toward their common goal. During one summer they earned 48 merit badges. It took more than half an hour to read them all at the Court of Honor. They now have all 127, and they each need two merit badge sashes to display their awards because there is only room for 100 per sash.

So, on September 21, 1974, Chad and Craig Carson received the last of the merit badges they could earn. Both brothers give a great deal of credit to their mother and father. Chad said that his mom was always saying, “Come on! You can do it!” She would help them schedule appointments and drive them wherever they had to go. At the beginning of the summer, she would help map out a plan for which merit badges they could earn. Both boys also had high praises for their Scout leaders. The leaders challenged them and helped in every way possible.

Now Chad and Craig think there should be a merit badge given to help Scouts like themselves figure out where they can keep all the projects, models and charts that it takes to earn all those badges.

I had the opportunity to go on a mission to the Fiji Suva Mission at the age of 24 after receiving my Master's Degree. I thought for a long time I was too old to serve a mission but while pursuing a Master's Degree at the University of Arkansas, I had the opportunity to receive my patriarchal blessing which specifically addressed my serving a mission for the Lord. When I received my mission call, I had no idea where the Cook Islands were located, where I was specifically assigned to serve, or the Fiji Islands. I got out the National Geographic Magazines (This was way before Google Search) and excitedly found their locations and read as much as I could about the islands. As my mission came to a conclusion, the Church Educational System man in Fiji approached me about the possibility of coming back to Fiji and teaching in our Church High School that was yet to be built there. I put in my application at his urging and did not think much more about it until approached by CES some three years later having in the meantime been sealed to Sister Bauer in the Oakland California Temple and our having a fifteen month old daughter. We were blessed to go back to Fiji and teach in our Church High School there, The Fiji LDS Technical College; then, some years later, serve as the headmaster of our Church School in Kiribati, Moroni Community School (Now Moroni High School), live in Guam and coordinate seminaries and institutes of religion in Micronesia, live here in Kailua for four years teaching at the Honolulu HI Institute and coordinating seminaries here, and then go over to Hilo and be there for the past 21 and a half years as the Hilo HI Institute Director and coordinating seminaries and institutes of religion for the neighbor islands in the State of Hawaii. During this time we had two of our five children born in Fiji, one while we were in Kiribati, and one in Guam. We have been truly blessed as a family to live in the Pacific Islands among the great people of the islands.

My cousin Carrie was a sterling example of a single sister who was a happy, generous, loving woman, blessing all with whom she associated. She was killed in an automobile accident when she was in her late 30s, but her final act of goodness prior to her untimely death was finishing scrapbooks for each of her nieces and nephews. She was fulfilling her mission to the degree that she could within her opportunities.

Elder James E. Faust
“A very special young friend of mine served as a missionary of this Church in Japan. His dedication to missionary work and the Japanese people was so complete and full that, rather than spend all of the money his parents sent to him, he unselfishly made a regular contribution of part of his money to help another local Japanese missionary. … In time, as with most missionaries, the clothes of my young friend became threadbare and thin. In order for him to be able to come home, it was necessary for him to buy a second-hand suit from one of the other elders. His regular denial of himself, in order to share his substance with the local Japanese missionary, was a very closely guarded secret. He is a good example of the young elect of God of this Church, as are hundreds of thousands of others.”

Doug had always loved sports. Maybe it was because they almost all required running, and running was his favorite activity. As a child he ran everywhere. If you saw someone walking you knew you weren’t looking at Douglas Padilla. “I didn’t like to just wait around. Why walk if you can get there faster by running?” And of course there were always races for an aspiring young runner—impromptu school ground and back lot challenges as well as the prestigious 50 yarders sponsored by the grade school. There was only one problem. “I was always getting beat. In fact, the girls all beat me.”
This was a great boon for equality, but it wasn’t a real ego booster, especially for a boy who already carried the burden of being the smallest boy in his class. But rather than throwing away his sneakers and giving up, Doug just kept running.
He is still running today. Seven times an All-American during his track career at BYU, he now runs for the Athletics West Track Club. He has been ranked number one in the world in the indoor 3,000 and 5,000 meters, and fifth in the world in the 5,000 meters outdoor. He has enjoyed wins in many important national and international competitions, including the 1983 World Championships in Helsinki, Finland. He was the top American qualifier for the 5,000 meters in the 1984 Olympic Games in Los Angeles. Unfortunately, he had health problems at the games and finished a disappointing seventh. Like the seasoned competitor he is though, he put it behind him as “just another race” and is back working his way to the top. He enjoyed a spectacular indoor season this past winter, winning five of the seven races he entered. He was the fastest American in the 3,000 meters, the 5,000 meters, the two mile, and the three mile.
Doug’s rise from neighborhood “also ran” to world-class runner didn’t happen overnight, of course. It took some fifth quarter effort along the way. Even when he was still the slowest kid around, Doug always ran in every race he could. Finally, in junior high school he got on the track team.
At last, all the running and fifth-quarter determination started paying off. Doug’s speed and endurance began to soar. His time in the two mile improved from 11:50 his freshman year to 9:17 his senior year, when he went undefeated in cross-country and won the league meet. He went all the way to state in the two mile, finishing 13th with a personal record of 9:15.4.
After high school, Doug was not deluged with scholarship offers. By college standards, he was still a very average runner. He did finally receive an offer from a junior college near his home, however. At the end of the first year there he surprised everyone, including himself, by running a 4:10.7 and winning the mile at the Northern California Championships. At this point, Doug decided to go to BYU. He didn’t have a scholarship or even an invitation, but he went anyway. When you’ve spent a whole year in the fifth quarter, you’re game for about anything. That fall he went out for cross-country and finished as the eighth man on the team.
Soon after the end of the cross-country season, Doug was called to serve a mission in El Salvador. His track career was a little shaky at best, and he had no particular reason to think that a two-year absence would improve it much, but his desire to follow the counsel of the General Authorities was strong. As he served the people of El Salvador through his calling, he began to change in many ways. He began to have a different perspective on sports and life in general.
“When you look at a high school athlete, he grows up with sports. He eats it and drinks it. That’s his life—everything. As you grow up a little more, you find out there’s a little more to life, and then you go on a mission and find out you don’t have to run and compete to be successful and to feel important as a person. Then your emphasis changes, and running isn’t necessary anymore. Many times sports are a means by which individuals can gain self-confidence and self-esteem. Many people go through an identity crisis. How important are they as an individual? As you go on a mission you realize that the Lord loves you and cares about you and is concerned with your being a good person regardless of how you are athletically. You come to realize that your relationship with people, school, your church callings, a number of things—all are important, not just athletics. You become a little more aware of life.
“I was always very small in high school and had little self-confidence, but now my confidence is in the Lord.”
The two years in El Salvador proved to be a blessing athletically. Even though Doug had little opportunity to run in the mission field, his body had a chance to mature. He returned stronger and faster than when he left. He was the 23rd American finisher in the NCAA cross-country championships that year, earning all-American honors. He was also part of a distance medley team that took second in the nation.
His junior year brought only moderate success. In the outdoor season he finished sixth in the nationals in the 5,000-meter run.
In his senior year he finished 15th in the cross-country nationals. Then came the golden indoor season that was to vault him into the aristocracy of the running world. He somehow managed to talk his way into the Sunkist Invitational meet, even though his times really didn’t qualify him for that level of competition. There he went head to head in the two mile with the great Suleiman Nyambui, the University of Texas at El Paso star. Doug had never beaten Nyambui, the silver medalist in the 500 meters at the Moscow Olympics, although as members of the same college athletic conference, the two had competed many times. This time Doug stayed right behind Nyambui throughout the race.
“When Suleiman moved out to take the lead, I stepped right out behind him. I stayed right on his tail. I decided that what I needed to do was surprise him when I went around him. It’s twenty-two laps on the indoor track for two miles. So I said, ‘with two laps to go, I’ll make my move.’ So that’s what I did. I made it right at the top of the turn. I cut a little close, and I just brushed him with my arm, and I think that kind of surprised him. I brushed by him on the outside just as he looked to the inside to see where everybody was. I think he was kind of startled, and by the time he recovered I had six or seven yards on him. And then I just ran like crazy. He never caught me. Indoors the race is often won by the man who makes the first move and doesn’t die. The crowd was amazed that Suleiman could be beaten, especially by me.”
This was a victory that any athlete could treasure for life, even if it was followed by no others, but in this case both Doug and most knowledgeable track people sensed that it marked a great turning point in his career, the beginning of something big, a rite of passage from just another good college runner to something different. Doug was edging into that elite circle of athletes who can be described as “world-class.”
In the Western Athletic Conference indoor track meet, Doug once again shocked everyone by beating Suleiman. Some had assumed that the first victory was a fluke—a very impressive fluke notwithstanding.
This set the stage for the indoor nationals. “I knew that Suleiman would be expecting me this time, and that I would have to move earlier than I had before. So I made a move with five laps to go, almost a half mile. That was quite a race. It was rough. He ran in lane two for almost the last five full laps. He tried to pass me repeatedly. I won by four-hundredths of a second.” Less than an hour later, Doug had to run the 5,000 meters. Not knowing how much he had left, he dropped to the back of the pack. With two and a half laps to go, he made his move, swinging wide around a group in front of him. He moved into third place with a lap to go, took second on the backstretch, and kicked hard in a grim charge to overtake Suleiman. He couldn’t quite catch him, finishing second.
In the outdoor nationals that spring, he finished fourth in both the 1,500 and 5,000 meters. His college career was ended, but he was still getting faster and stronger all the time. It was time again for the fifth quarter.
Even though there are many rewards in competitive running, it is not exactly what the average person would describe as fun. It hurts. It hurts a lot. Somewhere in the course of the race all the body’s needs and desires become reduced to one—to stop. “It’s a matter of losing your concentration. You slow down, and all of a sudden you look up and realize they have ten yards on you. You lose contact with what’s going on and they break you.” The successful runner must resist this, forcing his body to do his mind’s will.
“You have to decide beforehand what you’re going to do in a race, and then you go out and you do it. With my style of running I need to decide that I’m going to stay with certain runners no matter what until I start my kick at the end. Then it’s a matter of staying with that decision regardless of how I feel. Once you’ve gone through about half the race at a good pace, you lose a little bit of the awareness of how you feel. You just learn to concentrate more on staying with an individual. You put all your energies into it, and you mask out everything else. I used to wonder how bad I wanted to win, if I wanted success enough to be willing to hurt for it. It’s a matter of determining if it’s really worth it to you or not.”
If a runner wants to know the limits of his own potential, there is a price to pay. “If you go by how you feel, you’re always going to decide you don’t have enough, and so you’ll fall back. And if you push it, there’s always more than you think. And even if there isn’t, you’ll at least know where you stand.”
Does the gospel help Doug in his running? “It has given me confidence in myself. My mission had a lot to do with that. Realizing that I could go out and do something, that I could seek the Lord’s help in accomplishing something, helped me believe in my individual worth as a person, that I was important.”
How important is the gospel in his life? “There isn’t anything more important in my life than the gospel. It is much more important than running. There isn’t any comparison. If running is the most important thing in your life and you get injured or become too old to compete, then you are left with nothing. When I was a teenager I didn’t have this kind of a testimony or perspective. I was still learning. The Church was important, but I didn’t realize how important. My mission taught me that I can do whatever the Lord wants me to do—anything.”
Where does running fit into Doug’s vision of the gospel? “The Lord wants us to develop the talent that we have, and it’s a responsibility each person has, so in that sense, it’s something that I need to do. But I’ve always felt that it’s something the Lord wants me to do also. If I didn’t have the feeling that he wanted me to run, I probably wouldn’t be running now, just because in the years after I got back from my mission, I didn’t handle the pressure very well. It was a lot to go through, especially when you’re not doing that well, and there are other things more important to me in my life. Now it would be hard to imagine not running. But there’s an awful lot of pressure before a race. I’m extremely nervous. I have to eat five or six hours before I run or I will throw up. It’s just very unpleasant. Just imagine yourself standing up to talk in general conference, and you’ll have some idea. If I didn’t feel the Lord had some purpose for me in this I wouldn’t be doing it.”
Doug gained a great strength in his life on July 14, 1983, when he married Lynette Nielson of Golden, Colorado, in the Salt Lake Temple. “Marriage has been good to me,” he says. “I’ve got a great wife. She gives me a clearer perspective on running and on life.”
When will Doug stop running? “When the Lord wants me to stop.”
How will he know when that happens? “I just won’t have any desire to run anymore.”
That time isn’t in sight right now. The short, skinny kid who lost to the girls in grade school, who had to wait for the fifth quarter to play basketball, who ran just because he loved running, has grown up into one of the finest distance runners on the planet Earth. He knows now that if you work and wait long enough, giving it everything you have, your fifth quarter will come, because the fifth quarter is only for those with the courage to endure to the end.

What is more amazing than seeing a child smile for the first time?
Nothing, as Devan Griner found out personally when he served as a youth volunteer on a two-week mission with Operation Smile to Vietnam. There he helped very young patients overcome their fears about doctors as they waited for their turns to have cleft palates or other facial deformities repaired. Devan also started a Smile Club in Skyline High School in his hometown of Salt Lake City, Utah.
Devan is the first to tell that he is not the only LDS teen working long and hard for Operation Smile. When he was elected to serve on the national youth council, he met Amanda Fairbourne, also on the national council, who is a member of the Church from Plymouth, Minnesota.
The chapter Devan helped organize at his high school is also not the first in Utah. The Bountiful High School chapter was organized first, but the members unselfishly helped him get a chapter going at his high school.
But sometimes that’s what it takes to be an everyday hero, not the person who is doing the most, or even the one who is doing it first, just the one who is doing all he can to serve in a good cause. And Devan is doing just that. He persuaded his school to donate the proceeds from their annual Millions of Pennies charity drive to Operation Smile. Because Operation Smile was such a good cause, the school responded with unprecedented enthusiasm. The thought of putting a smile on a child’s face was enough to melt the toughest hearts. Their donation became the biggest youth chapter donation ever received at the national headquarters.
Operation Smile started 15 years ago when a plastic surgeon and his wife, who also served as his nurse, went to the Philippines and donated their time to repairing cleft palates for several weeks. So many children were turned away that they were determined to come again. And they did, this time bringing other volunteer doctors, nurses, and anesthesiologists.
The good work spread. Soon doctors from all over the United States were donating their time on surgical teams visiting countries where cosmetic surgery to repair deformities was too expensive or nonexistent.
Teenagers wanted to get involved. They started forming clubs to raise money for the supplies the doctors and nurses needed to take with them. The surgeons and medical personnel donated their time, airlines often donated the flight tickets, but money was still needed to fly all the equipment needed to set up operating rooms in countries around the world. The surgical teams would sometimes operate 16 hours a day, each doctor handling as many as 30 little patients. “That’s the cool thing,” says Devan. “In a matter of 30 minutes in cleft palate surgery, a child’s life is changed forever. Before, the kids have big huge holes. Sometimes they wear bandannas because they feel disgraced. They often aren’t allowed to attend school, and some are even abandoned by their parents. A 30-minute operation changes that.”
Devan got his club involved in fund-raising. His friends and fellow club officers Travis Nilsson, Jared Ellsworth, and Ruth Ann Romney were soon as enthusiastic as Devan about seeing healthy smiles on the faces of children. The Skyline Club used video presentations and plenty of talk to spread the word. Also, Devan was trained to be one of two youth volunteers to go on a mission with one of the surgical teams. Sent to Vietnam, Devan was not entirely prepared for what he would see.
“I met a kid about 14 who had a bad burn contracture. A contracture is when the scar pulls as it heals. He fell on a lamp when he was six months old. His burn was on his face and neck, and it pulled his head to the side and pulled his eye down. It kind of surprised me. I didn’t know how to react.
“I was juggling for the kids and blowing bubbles to entertain them as they waited for their turn in surgery. Every time I looked at him, he was watching me. He liked the bubbles. His chin was pulled down so far by the scar that he couldn’t bring his lips together enough to blow bubbles. I gave him the bubble wand, and he started making huge bubbles, putting on a show for everyone. It kind of hit me. He looks horrible, but inside he was great. I could tell he was trying to smile because he was having fun.
“I saw him after his operation. The surgeons released the burn scar and removed a lot of scar tissue. His eye went back to normal. His mouth came back up. He had some skin grafts. After the operation, I went over and shook his hand. He could actually smile. It was cool.”

Here’s what that meekness looks like--another missionary story. We were teaching a bright young American couple named Paul and Wendy Knaupp. They had read and believed the Book of Mormon and were eagerly preparing for baptism. Then Paul’s family wrote him a letter warning him that Mormons were racist, because they didn’t grant their lay priesthood to African men. He and Wendy felt hurt and betrayed. Why hadn’t someone told them about this? Didn’t we know that God treats all people equally? Yet they were bewildered, because they had felt sure that Joseph was a prophet. I was speechless. This was 1962. I had never heard a serious discussion about race and the priesthood, let alone an explanation. But, recalling some fragment from my recent personal scripture study, I blurted out, “Let’s read the story of Peter and Cornelius in Acts Chapter 10.” Here we read that after centuries of restricting the gospel to blood Israel, the Lord revealed to Peter that it was time to share the Savior’s message with the Gentile world. This made it reasonable to think that sometime He would open that same door even more fully—which He did in 1978, when he revealed to President Kimball that it was time to establish the Church—and holy temples—everywhere, for the first time in history.

A short time later, Paul and Wendy called to say they had prayed earnestly and wanted to keep talking. Soon they were baptized and eventually raised their family of five children in the gospel. Years later Wendy told me she didn’t remember anything we had discussed on that pivotal night. She just said that after our visit, the gloom had gradually left them and the light returned. Like Nephi, Paul and Wendy had sensed only that God “loveth his children,” even if they didn’t “know the meaning of all things.” [9] They were meek and spiritually alive enough to know that the Lord loved them, so they trusted Him. They wouldn’t let the things they didn’t yet understand get in the way of the wonderful truths they did understand.

A young woman came to me very discouraged. She said no one would ever consider marrying her. I asked how long she had thought that. She said ever since she entered her teenage years. I suggested that she could no longer risk indulging in that destructive thought. She couldn’t let herself passively be its victim. She had to take the initiative to turn her mind away from it whenever it drew into sight. She needed to treat this thought it like the swords of the Anti-Nephi-Lehi Lamanite converts — she had to bury it and never touch it again. Otherwise, her battle with it would never end.

When I was a teenager, my family moved to New Jersey. I stayed behind with my grandparents for the summer and helped them farm. One morning I was slow getting out of bed. When my grandfather came to get me, he found me kneeling by my bed, in the middle of my morning prayer. He quietly went out and waited for me. As soon as I finished, he came in and gave me a big hug and said how pleased he was to see me praying. He told me how much it meant to him to pray and how he always began the day by praying. There was no reprimand for being late. I’ve always felt that praying was more special because of the way he reacted.

When it was time for Father to attend October conference, Mary Ann and Mark were excited. Father had promised they could visit Temple Square with Mother while he attended a special meeting in the Assembly Hall.
Mark and Mary Ann were surprised when Father announced, “Here we are at Temple Square.”
“That’s sure a high wall!” exclaimed Mark.
“Does it go all around the block?” asked Mary Ann.
“Let’s walk around and see,” answered Mother.
As the four of them walked, they discovered that the wall did go all around the block. In each of the four sides of the wall there were beautiful see-through iron gates.
“Oh, Mother!” said Mary Ann. “It’s so pretty. Look at all the beautiful flowers. Flowers are even in boxes on that wall, and the trees are so tall!”
“Look up,” Mark said excitedly. “You can see the angel Moroni on the very top of the temple.”
“While I’m in my meeting, why don’t you three go to the Visitors Center,” Father suggested. “There’s a very special statue there that you’ll want to see.”
Inside the Visitors Center Mother, Mark, and Mary Ann walked up a winding ramp. At the top against a dark blue background of sky and soft rose pink clouds was a beautiful statue of Christ. It was so lovely that Mark and Mary Ann had a quiet reverent feeling as they looked up at the statue and thought about Jesus.
After looking at the beautiful murals of the life of Christ, they stopped to talk about the scene of Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove.
Then they walked down the spiral ramp, and in a few minutes they were outside again.
Mother told them about a large bronze statue that was shaded by a lacy tree branch.
“The man in the center,” she explained, “is John the Baptist. The two young men kneeling are the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery. John the Baptist is bestowing the Aaronic Priesthood upon these two men.”
Mother and the children walked down the path toward a large dome-shaped building. “This is the famous Tabernacle,” said Mother.
“It looks like a great big turtle,” said Mary Ann.
“Or half an eggshell,” said Mark.
“Yes, it does,” Mother agreed. “There’s a story about how President Brigham Young received his idea for the shape of the Tabernacle one morning when he was having boiled eggs for breakfast.”
Just then a guide came by with a group of people who were visiting Temple Square.
Mother and the children decided to join the group as they went into the Tabernacle.
The guide pointed out many interesting things about the Tabernacle. He told them that it was over a hundred years old. He showed them the famous organ that could make music soft as a tinkling wind bell or loud as the crash of booming thunder. He pointed out the balcony that formed a giant U shape as it curved around the building. Then he asked everyone to be quiet. A pin was dropped in the front of the big building and the group in the back could hear it hit the floor.
“Now let’s walk over to the campanile,” Mother suggested.
“What’s a campanile?” asked Mary Ann.
“A campanile is a bell tower that is built separate from a church,” replied Mother. “The bell in this campanile is the Nauvoo bell. It was made in England, shipped across the Atlantic Ocean, and hung in the Nauvoo Temple. It was carried across the plains by oxcart. The Relief Society sisters had the campanile built to protect the bell.”
Mother and the children walked past the Assembly Hall with its colorful stained glass windows and its many quaint spires reaching up toward the blue sky.
They stopped to look at the beautiful Sea Gull Monument. Around the base of the monument was a pool of clear water and eight fountains that sent sparkling water spraying into the air, curving umbrella-fashion and splashing back into the pool.
“Right over here is a statue of a handcart family,” Mother told the children as they walked away from the Seagull Monument.
Mark said he thought the father looked strong but tired.
“The mother looks strong too,” said Mary Ann, “but I think she looks worried. Maybe she’s afraid her children will get too tired in the hot sun.”
“It took brave boys and girls to walk across the plains,” said Mother. “But all of the pioneers loved our Heavenly Father and His gospel, so they pushed on and on until they arrived in Salt Lake City. We should always remember our pioneers and be proud of them.”
Past the Bureau of Information, Mark wanted to stop and look at a real pioneer cabin. He caught up with Mary Ann and Mother, who had circled back and were looking up at the beautiful white granite temple with its rounded windows and majestic spires.
They also paused to look at the statues of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother, Patriarch Hyrum Smith.
“I’m glad we could come to Temple Square,” said Mary Ann. “It’s even more beautiful than I imagined.”
By now the sun had set and it was beginning to get dark. Although everyone was tired, they had a special quiet feeling of happiness because of the wonderful things they had seen and learned that day on Temple Square.