Gospel Story Finder

President George Albert Smith, who was named after his grandfather, George A. Smith, had known his grandfather for only a short time because he was just five years old when this grandfather died. But bearing that same name helped greatly in determining President Smith’s wholesome life pattern. He often said, “It has meant much to me to have that sacred name to take care of.” President Smith once told of a spiritual experience he had concerning his name.
“One day, [while seriously ill], I lost consciousness of my surroundings and thought I had passed to the Other Side. I realized, or seemed to realize, that I had finished my work in mortality and had gone home. …
“I began to explore, and soon I found a trail through the woods. … I followed this trail and after I had walked for some time … I saw a man coming towards me … and … recognized him as my grandfather. … I remember how happy I was to see him coming. I had been given his name and had always been proud of it.
“When grandfather came within a few feet of me, he stopped … and … looked at me very earnestly and said: ‘I would like to know what you have done with my name.’
“Everything I had ever done passed before me as though it were a flying picture on a screen. … I smiled and looked at my grandfather and said: ‘I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.’
“He stepped forward and took me in his arms, and as he did so, I became conscious again of my earthly surroundings. My pillow was … wet … with tears of gratitude that I could answer unashamed.
“I have thought of this many times, and I want to tell you that I have been trying, more than ever since that time, to take care of that name. So I want to say to the boys and girls, … honor the names that you bear, because some day you will have the privilege and the obligation of reporting … what you have done with [your] name.” (George Albert Smith, Sharing the Gospel with Others, pp. 111–12.)

“One memory that I have of my grandmother painting comes from when I was about 9 or 10 years old. For a while some of my cousins and siblings and I would go to my grandma’s studio each week to work on drawing, painting and sketching with her. During this time, she was painting a depiction of Christ and the Samaritan woman at the well. I remember whenever I saw her painting, every brush stroke was very careful and very intentional— though I was young and often didn’t really notice the difference that each individual brush stroke made. Each week we returned to her studio, and you could start seeing the difference and the changes and that it was closer and closer to being the beautiful, finished product that it is today. In some way I can’t help but think that is how the Lord can help us to one day become complete.”

Another example: A missionary in Pennsylvania came to me and said, “President, there is something I have not confessed—when I was a young man, I often stole.” “How much did you steal, elder?” “Oh, five or six hundred dollars worth of merchandise and sometimes money.” “Can you remember when you stole and from whom you stole?” “Yes, I can.”

I said, “Then pay it back.” The Spirit whispered to both of us that that is what he needed to do. “That means, elder, that you can’t serve as a leader since you can’t have an automobile, because every time you have another three or four or five dollars, you’re to send it home.”

He replied, “I understand, president.” Because of his family and other personal considerations, he said, “I can’t go to the people I stole from until I return. Would you mail the money back to them?” I said yes; and so I sent envelopes to my friends living in Chicago, New York, Pittsburgh, Saint Louis, and other cities, who would then forward the money in plain envelopes postmarked in cities far distant from where this elder was laboring.

About a year ago, I had the opportunity of sealing that young man in the temple; and one of the things he said was that the day his life really changed was when he had made full restitution. The Lord blessed him; he needed him to serve as a leader, but not for many months, because he needed to pay back that which he had taken.

In November 2000, President Hinckley spoke to youth in a Churchwide fireside (see “A Prophet’s Counsel and Prayer for Youth,” Liahona, April 2001, 30–41). Have you young adults studied his message and identified things you need to avoid or do differently? I know a 17-year-old who just prior to the prophet’s talk had pierced her ears a second time.

She came home from the fireside, took off the second set of earrings, and said to her parents, “If President Hinckley says we should wear only one set of earrings, that’s good enough for me.”

Wearing two pairs of earrings may or may not have eternal consequences for this young woman, but her willingness to obey the prophet will. And if she will obey him now, on something relatively simple, how much easier it will be to follow him when greater issues are at stake.

My beloved brothers and sisters, it is very significant for me to follow Elder Boyd K. Packer this afternoon because just twenty-three years ago, his son Alan, then a missionary in Colombia, arrived with his companion to our home in Bogotá. That was our first contact with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Today I want to pay tribute to the missionaries, their parents and supporters, and to the leaders and members of the Church who, with their love and patience, made it possible for my wife, Mary, and me to join the Church and who continue supporting us in the process of conversion.
At the time the missionaries came to teach us, I was going through some trials and had many sorrows and concerns, and I needed to make some important decisions in my life. However, at the beginning I was not aware that their message of the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ and of his Church was the answer and solution to my needs. I didn’t realize that those young messengers were sent to me by my Heavenly Father.
Now I understand his mercy because he sent to us his Begotten Son, Jesus Christ, who through the miracle of his atonement sacrificed his life for our salvation, broke the bands of death, defied the grave, and invited us to follow him.
Somehow it was not easy for them to start teaching us, but after many visits and discussions I was touched by the Spirit, and I agreed to be baptized, as well as my beloved wife. But I established some “don’ts” or conditions: don’t call me “brother,” I will not attend all the meetings, I don’t want to be assigned to pray nor to give talks in the meetings, I will not accept any callings, and never ask me to talk to my relatives or friends about the Church, and so forth.
I testify that conversion is a process. I am sure that the missionaries were praying and fasting for the change of my mind, because as soon as we started to attend the meetings, I began criticizing many temporal things at the meetinghouse, such as the crooked pictures on the walls. The branch president, a fine and wise man, appointed me as the “pictures supervisor,” this being my first calling in the Church. Incidentally, I have never seen that position in the handbooks, but it served me very well to start my involvement in the service of the Lord.
My advice to leaders, members, and new converts looking for retention and reactivation is to let every man and woman participate in the preparation of this world for the second coming of our Savior; receive with joy the callings and releases that come from the Lord through inspired leaders; be co-workers with God in “bring[ing] to pass the immortality and eternal life of man,” as we learn in Moses 1:39. We must be sure that all the people are having the opportunity to give of their time, talents, skills, and facilities to help others find the truth.
My first encounter with preaching the gospel was also exciting. In a park near my office in Bogotá, I saw a multitude, and since I had some time, I went down to see what was happening. My surprise was great when I saw the missionaries with displays about the Church and with copies of the Book of Mormon. They recognized me and asked me to stand in the middle of the park with a banner saying, “Be happy; be a Mormon.” I stood for a while in that place. I was a Mormon, but at that moment I was not so happy! But I started to feel better about my ability as a missionary, losing my fear to talk with people about the Church. I let go of my own restrictions—so many “don’ts”—and realized that this is the Church of love and service, of sacrifice and blessings, of happiness and eternal life. My message to the missionaries, to the people that are investigating the Church at this time, and to the members is, “Don’t give up; continue looking for the best results in this wonderful work.”
After our baptism, many relatives, including our parents, several brothers and sisters and their families, followed our example and joined the Church, serving in priesthood and auxiliary leadership positions, serving full-time missions, and performing ordinances of salvation and exaltation for our kindred dead and for ourselves.
Eighteen years ago my wife and I were sealed in eternal marriage in the Salt Lake Temple, and the following year we were sealed as a family with our daughters, Liana and Maritza, in the Los Angeles Temple. For all these things, I express my gratitude to my Heavenly Father and his Son, Jesus Christ.
I can say with President Harold B. Lee: “As you can see, one is converted when he sees with his eyes what he ought to see; when he hears with his ears what he ought to hear; and when he understands with his heart what he ought to understand. And what he ought to see, hear, and understand is truth—eternal truth—and then practice it. That is conversion” (Stand Ye in Holy Places [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1974], p. 92).
President Ezra Taft Benson, at an area conference in Sweden in 1974, said: “It is not on the pinnacle of success and ease where men and women grow most. It is often down in the valley of heartache and disappointment and reverses where men and women grow into strong characters” (in Conference Report, Denmark, Finland, Norway, and Sweden Area Conference 1974, p. 70).
I know the meaning of repentance and forgiveness as part of the process of conversion through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. I have partaken of the blessings stated in Moroni, chapter 6, verses 1 to 4:
“And now I speak concerning baptism. Behold, elders, priests, and teachers were baptized; and they were not baptized save they brought forth fruit meet that they were worthy of it.
“Neither did they receive any unto baptism save they came forth with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, and witnessed unto the church that they truly repented of all their sins.
“And none were received unto baptism save they took upon them the name of Christ, having a determination to serve him to the end.
“And after they had been received unto baptism, and were wrought upon and cleansed by the power of the Holy Ghost, they were numbered among the people of the church of Christ; and their names were taken, that they might be remembered and nourished by the good word of God, to keep them in the right way, to keep them continually watchful unto prayer, relying alone upon the merits of Christ, who was the author and the finisher of their faith.”
Brothers and sisters, I testify to you that God lives and loves us; that he sent to the world his Son, Jesus Christ, our Redeemer; that Joseph Smith is a prophet of God who was foreordained and raised up for the restoration of all things in this dispensation; that President Ezra Taft Benson is our living prophet, appointed by the Lord to guide us in the true Church, even The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints; and that the Book of Mormon and the Bible are testaments of Christ, the Messiah. That we may see, hear, and understand these things and practice them, I humbly pray in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

As an illiterate seventeen-year-old peasant girl, Joan of Arc left her family and the simple comforts of her home to liberate her country and place Charles VII on the throne. I was intrigued to realize that not only did she gain the trust of Charles VII but also the trust of more than twelve thousand troops placed under her command. At one point, determined to keep the Sabbath day holy, she required all of her troops to partake of the holy sacrament prior to entering into battle. Many believe her public demonstration of faith in God won her that battle.
Virtuous by choice and trusting in the Lord, Joan of Arc would not only liberate the city of Orléans but defeat the English in four other battles. Bishop Gérald Caussé explained:
She was surrounded by men who were rough and sometimes disrespectful toward women. But she was committed to stay faithful and worthy because that was a condition for her to receive the guidance she needed from God.
Eventually captured in the battle of Paris, Joan was held as a prisoner—not for treason but for heresy. What was her crime? She believed and taught that she, as a woman, had received revelation from God. As I stood by her stone prison, I wondered at her determination and faith. Listen to some of the words she, as an illiterate nineteen-year-old girl and prisoner, spoke in her own defense in 1431, as translated from official court records. She said: “I must go, and I must do this thing, because my Lord will have it so” and “I look to God, my creator, in all. I love him with all my heart.” She also said, “Everything I have said or done is in the hand of God, and I commit myself to Him.” And in his play Saint Joan, George Bernard Shaw had her say, “It is better to be alone with God.”
Joan was eventually sentenced to death and burned at the stake.

I also understand Joseph Smith’s wanting to be alone as he prayed. On another occasion a few years later, I was in a similar situation, this time with a young man I didn’t know. I was nervous about praying in front of him, so I waited for him to go to bed so I could kneel and pray without him watching me.
But he wouldn’t go to bed, so I finally knelt and prayed and got into my sleeping bag. When he got into bed a few minutes later, he said, “Lynn, do you always pray like that?”
“Yes, I try to. If I ever hurry and get into bed forgetting to pray, I get out of bed and kneel and pray.”
He said, “I should do that.”

First, an experience that I had as a youth which helped to teach me an important lesson. It occurred when I was quite young—to be more specific, a boy of 10 or 11. I was herding our flock of sheep in the mountains of northern Utah to the east of East Garland. My grandfather had entrusted me with the sheep as we were moving them up the mountain to the summer range. I had just watered them in a small mountain stream and bedded them down for a short rest before going on.
While they were settled, I went about to explore the terrain and check the route ahead. I was a couple of hundred yards up the canyon when I heard a sound that chilled me to the bone. Once you have heard a rattlesnake, a very poisonous reptile, you’ll never forget the sound.
Cautiously I moved toward that sound. To my surprise I observed not one but three rattlers just a few yards away. They were on a rocky knoll that had been warmed by the spring sun. While the sight of three rattlers in a bunch intrigued me, because you seldom see more than one at a time, it also concerned me since the sheep would need to pass this way.
Before long the sheep roused and started moving up the canyon. As they came closer, the snakes seemed to sense the intruders and slithered down the incline toward the creek.
Fearing the danger, I immediately turned my sheep up the hill away from the direction the snakes were moving. I was successful for a time, but then a couple of sheep broke away from the flock. As they did so, the entire flock seemed determined to follow those two errant old ewes, and there was no stopping them. You may have heard the characterization “They all followed like a bunch of sheep.” Well, that’s what happened here. To make matters worse, they were moving directly toward the location of the rattlers.
I had hoped that the natural instinct of the sheep would keep them at a safe distance. But some of the flock were pushed directly into the path of the snakes. And there was no escape for the unfortunate ones that sustained the strikes of those disturbed reptiles.
It was a sad young shepherd who had to report to his grandfather a short time later the loss of two of his prized ewes. The experience of that day provided a very forceful illustration to me of what can happen when the sheep ignore their shepherd.
I was there as the shepherd. I perceived the danger and was trying my best to protect my sheep. But as a few started to go in the wrong direction, others were determined to follow. Though only two of the flock were lost, it was a loss that need not have been.

The first reason he listed was: Karen.
Karen was a girl in his ward. They had dated for the last few months.
“Do you know when I like you most?” she had asked a few weeks ago.
“When I wear my aftershave and my sweater and get to use my dad’s car,” he answered.
“No, not then,” she smiled. “It’s in sacrament meeting when I watch you break the bread and bless the sacrament. You look so, well, clean.”
He grinned at her. “After all the money I’ve sunk for aftershave, you tell me that.”
“It must be neat to hold the priesthood, to realize that the Savior was the first one to give that prayer and that in a way you’re standing in for him.”
“I’ve never thought about it like that before,” he said quietly.
Another time he had driven her home from church. They sat in the car while she told him about her lesson that day. The bishop’s wife had come to talk to the Laurels.
“She said one thing that really impressed me,” Karen said. “‘You never know but that the guy you’re dating may some day turn out to be your bishop. It happened to me, didn’t it? You treat him like a future bishop.’ So that’s what I’m going to do, Troy.”
He wasn’t sure if he really wanted that or not, but it turned out okay. She still let him kiss her, but now only on the steps to her house, not in a parked car.

I had made the commitment to date only members of the Church when I was 12. But when I turned 16, the members I knew didn’t start calling. In fact, no boys started calling. I went through high school wishing for dates and not getting any. I didn’t even get asked to the prom. So when Mark told me he liked me and wanted to go out, I jumped at the chance. But Mark wasn’t a member of the Church. I rationalized breaking my promise, though, because he was the only boy who would ask me out.
Mark seemed perfect in almost every way. He was three years older than me and shared a house with two roommates. He was very cute, fun, and full of ambition. Mark was my dream come true, a singer and dancer working on a music career.
Mark lavished me with compliments, and he introduced me to his friends and family, who were all welcoming and fun. We started to see each other every day. I had explained my standards to Mark, and he said he understood and respected them—at least at first.
But after a while he started to push me to do more with him physically. I resisted but gradually started to give in. I liked him, and the feelings he stirred in me were very strong. We weren’t doing anything too bad, I rationalized.
I started staying out late at his house, and we would always have fun. But then when I would get home, I wouldn’t feel as good. There was something nagging me in the back of my mind, and it kept tugging at my spirit. I was uncomfortable with how physical I was getting with Mark. And though I tried to rationalize, I couldn’t hide from that feeling.
I decided I had to break up with Mark. I talked to him, and he listened to me, telling me I should do whatever I was comfortable with. He did, however, beg me to stay his friend. I agreed.
I thought things were resolved. But they weren’t. After a week hanging out as friends, we started kissing and my problems all started again. I tried to keep myself occupied with other friends, but Mark made me feel wanted and special.
Then Todd asked me to go on a date with him. He was a returned missionary I had met at a student ward. He took me to dinner and then to the local fun center. I have never had so much fun at an amusement park in my life. By the time the place closed, neither of us wanted the date to end, so he took me to get ice cream.
Todd was great. We talked and laughed the entire date. He had me back home by 11:30 and asked if we could go on another date sometime. I felt wonderful. I couldn’t believe how I felt compared to how I felt after a date with Mark. After the date with Todd I felt happy and good about myself. After a date with Mark I felt depressed.
My date with Todd made me realize I hadn’t been feeling the Spirit when I was with Mark. I didn’t expect to have great spiritual experiences while dating, but I had wanted to have the Spirit there to prompt me. I noticed that, because of what we were doing, the Holy Ghost left whenever I would go see Mark. Having a good time with Todd made me realize how much I yearned to feel the Spirit always.
So I again broke up with Mark. It wasn’t easy, but I did immediately feel as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I was used to spending lots of time with Mark, and I still liked him. But I knew I had made the right decision. I wanted to have the Holy Ghost’s presence when I dated, and I was willing to do whatever it took to keep that influence in my life.
Even though I was able to feel the Spirit more often, my life wasn’t suddenly perfect, and the dates didn’t start pouring in. I left for college out of state, and Todd and I were not able to go out any more. And the dates haven’t picked up much at college. But I have been able to feel the Holy Ghost more often, and I am no longer fighting my conscience. That is a wonderful feeling worth the sacrifice.
I have found there is an entirely different spirit when you follow the commandments and date “only those who have high standards, who respect your standards, and in whose company you can maintain the standards of the gospel of Jesus Christ” (For the Strength of Youth, 7). I still have many good friends who are not members of the Church, but I have realized I only want to date people who have the same beliefs and standards that I do. After all, dating is already so complicated. Why add to the confusion?

Whatever country you live in, it takes a lot of effort to earn the top award in Scouting. So imagine the effort required to earn the award three times. Rocco du Plessis is the first Springbok Scout in the 26-year history of the First Edgemead Troop in South Africa. So becoming a three-time Springbok Scout is a huge accomplishment.
However, there’s another award Rocco earned last year that is equally important to him. “Earning the Duty to God has helped me achieve even more for my personal and spiritual growth,” he says. “It’s about your relationship with your Father in Heaven.”
“The Scouting program here is very demanding,” says Rocco, who is a member of the Panorama Ward in the Cape Town South Africa Stake. It’s hard to earn the Springbok. Sure, the Scout leaders are there to help you. But it’s still tough. “If you don’t work very hard, if you don’t pull your weight, you’re not going to get it,” Rocco adds. A lot of time, planning, and effort goes into every award as you advance in the Scouting program, which in South Africa is not Church sponsored.
For the Duty to God Award, Rocco says the support of his parents and his Young Men leaders has made a big difference. “They want you to earn your Duty to God,” he says, “and so many of the requirements are things you’re doing daily already.” Then it’s just a matter of working with your parents and leaders to record your progress in those areas. “Most of the normal Mormon aspects of your life fill Duty to God requirements—if you do them.” In other words, if a young man is attending Church meetings, praying regularly, studying the scriptures, and fulfilling his priesthood responsibilities, he is on the right track.
Only about one or two percent of all Scouts nationwide receive South Africa’s top Scouting award. And then only about one or two percent of these Springbok Scouts complete more than one of the three possible Explorer challenges. Rocco completed all three challenge awards, becoming only the third Scout in South African history to accomplish the feat.
A South African Scout advances through the program from Pathfinder to Adventurer to First Class then to Explorer. The Explorer badge is split into three different sections: Land Scouts, Air Scouts, and Sea Scouts. Usually a Scout will choose one of these sections to focus on as he works toward his final advancement—Springbok. Rocco focused on all three.
Along with the other badges and requirements, there are compulsory badges specific to each type of Explorer: The Land Explorer earns his Backwoodsman and Mapping badges. The Air Explorer earns his Air Navigator and Air Traffic Controller badges. And the Sea Explorer earns his Helmsman and Boatsman badges for sailing and rowing.
Rocco explains that it usually takes about two weekends at a badge course to earn each award. There are the white badges—the theory behind a skill. And then there are the green badges—the practical application of the skill. For example, to earn your Backwoodsman badge, first you’ll learn things like wilderness survival, navigating with the stars, and making fires without matches. Then comes the practical application. You get dropped off in the bush for 48 hours, and you’re on your own.
So Rocco has been pretty busy with Scouting for several years now. From February until December last year, for example, he was away many weekends. “It seemed I was up permanently on badge courses,” he says. Plus, for the past five years, Rocco has been the troop leader. That means he’s been in charge of organizing all the troop camps. He’s had to plan meals, do the shopping, coordinate troop meetings, type up consent forms for the other Scouts and their parents to sign, and oversee each of the campouts.
One valuable trait Rocco has learned along the way is persistence. “At least half of my badges I didn’t pass the first time on the course,” he says. “Within six months you can go back and do it again or have an adult who has done the badge test you on it.” For instance, one of the requirements for First Aid is bandaging. “I failed bandaging because part of the knot on one of my bandages stuck out,” Rocco says. “So I had to redo the bandaging portion in order to earn my level-two First Aid.”
In addition to the badges, there are other projects a Scout must complete to earn his Springbok. One of these is a construction project. Rocco chose to build a bridge. He had to first design and build a scale model of the bridge. Then, with a team of six other Scouts, Rocco had to build it full size, about 20 feet tall (6 m) and 30 feet long (9 m). It took nearly nine hours to build the bridge and then disassemble it.
Then there’s community service, which is a big part of earning both the Springbok and the Duty to God Award. For his Springbok service requirement, Rocco visited more than 40 homes of seniors to help them with various chores and repairs. “The only big thing that overlapped was the 40-hour service project I was able to use for both Scouts and the Duty to God Award,” says Rocco.
Of all the requirements Rocco has fulfilled to earn his various awards, he points to one in particular as most valuable for his personal growth: “Reading the Book of Mormon,” Rocco says without hesitation. “That was the biggest and most rewarding challenge.”
“I had read the Book of Mormon once already, a year or so ago, but I was just reading to get it done,” Rocco explains. “When I started reading it again, I really wanted to learn and gain a testimony of it.” He approached reading the Book of Mormon in a completely different way his second time through. “Every time I read now, I pray before to ask Heavenly Father’s Spirit to be with me as I read.”
Rocco’s already begun on his next big project—to more actively share his testimony with others as he prepares to serve a full-time mission. His Scouting experiences and earning the Duty to God Award have helped him in his personal development and in becoming a missionary. “To spread the gospel, I needed to know what is in the Book of Mormon, and I needed to know that it is true,” he says. “After reading the Book of Mormon for the second time, I received a testimony of it.”
Even if there was not a Duty to God Award to earn, Rocco says he would have fulfilled most of the requirements simply because he wanted to prepare for missionary service. Attending church, reading the scriptures, praying daily, and giving service are just part of who Rocco is, of being what a Latter-day Saint is supposed to be.
Now that he has received his call to serve as a full-time missionary, the testimony Elder du Plessis has built is proving much more useful than the rope-and-log bridge he built for his Springbok construction project. However, some of the backwoodsman skills he learned as a Scout may come in handy as he serves in Zimbabwe, Zambia, and Malawi.

When I think about endurance, I am reminded of Te'eu Makimare, a relative and a Cook Islands friend from the island of Manihiki. He was a simple, honest, humble, hard working and religious man who lived on a small atoll which rises no higher than 20 feet above sea level.

On August 12, 1963, conditions were not well on Manihiki. Food supplies had run critically low. No schooners had called for several months. On that day, Makimare and a few of his friends were to travel in an open boat from Manihiki to the neighbor island of Rakahanga 24 miles away. Their mission was to bring back sorely needed vegetables and fruit.

There would be four open boats assigned to this mission. Te'eu Makimare was assigned on one of them the Tearo'a, a cutter approximately 16 feet by 5 feet in the beam and carried a main sail and a stay sail.

The tiny boats departed and reached their destination of Rakahanga, but upon their return to Manihiki, one boat failed to return with the others. The Tearo'a, with its crew of seven including Makimare, was declared missing. Apparently, the Tearo'a had sailed slightly off course, struck a violent storm which damaged the boat and delivered them into the wide-open Pacific Ocean. Before the captain and crew lost all hope, Te'eu Makimare, with his persevering spirit, took over leadership. They struck another sudden storm and their boat capsized. In the storm, Makimare single-handedly saved four of his six weakened and dispirited colleagues. Two unfortunately drowned before he could get to them.

For 64 days, they drifted across the Pacific for 2,000 miles from Manihiki in the Cook Islands to Eromanga in Vanuatu. To survive Makimare caught rainwater and fish with his bare hands. He led them in prayers regularly, kept his faith, and never gave up hope. It was an agonizingly slow drift at one and -a-half miles an hour. It has been described as one of the grimmest and most miraculous voyage ever recorded.

For his bravery and outstanding leadership, Te'eu Makimare was awarded by the Queen of England, the British Royal Humane Society's highest award, the Stanhope Medal.

The faith of Makimare in God and His Son Jesus Christ, his acceptance of the reality of his situation, and his leadership, saved his life and most of his colleagues. It is truly a remarkable story of faith, courage and endurance captured in a book entitled, The Man Who Refused to Die, by Barry Wynne. By accepting his situation and magnifying his talents to improve the situation for himself and others, Makimare anxiously engaged and endured well.

They recently moved from Eagar, Arizona, to nearby Show Low, where their family business includes a hotel and car wash. Devastating wildfires struck the area last summer. Elder Shumway recalls that for three nights in a row, a television announcer stated the fire would be in Show Low by the next morning. The fire never reached the town, and the announcer finally said that there was a power at work higher than he had ever seen—he could not explain it.
“Had the fire come through, I do not think I would be sitting here today,” says Elder Shumway. “It would have been devastating.”
His family and business were spared, and he is grateful for the new opportunity to serve. “I deem it a privilege to go preach the gospel of Jesus Christ,” he says.

I grew up in California about 30 miles from the beach.

One of my first memories of the beach is when I was four or five years old. After spreading out our towels, setting up the picnic, and establishing base camp, I promised my parents to be careful as I ran down to the water to play. I played the "don't get caught by the wave" game. This is where you get as close to the water as possible; then, when a wave comes in, you run away to avoid getting wet. Then, as the water retreats back into the ocean, you follow it as closely as possible without getting wet. Then the next wave comes in, and you do the same thing. Up and down, down and up. Over and over again. Some other kids joined in the fun, and at one point one of them threw a ball into the water. We focused on it as it went up and back with the waves. I was enjoying myself and having lots of fun. I played for a long time before getting tired and noticing that my friends had all disappeared, so I decided to take a break.

I ran up to where my family was, but the towels, the picnic, and my family were gone. I ran through all the many people, looking for my family, but they were nowhere to be seen. I was confused.

Then I started to cry. I cried as I walked and ran aimlessly through the crowd in random directions.

A kind lady, a stranger, lifted me into her arms and began to comfort me. I, being an astute child, recognized that she was a stranger, and so I cried louder. But she was kind and gentle. She said not to worry and that we would find my parents, and then she started to walk up the beach in the wrong direction.

It was a fact that I was lost, but I knew she was even more lost. I kicked her and tried to get away, but she held me tight and continued to walk and talk softly for several minutes. Then, suddenly, I saw my dad walking quickly towards us.

The handoff was made, and my rescuer disappeared. I started to think, "Wow, she was really nice," and I wondered how she knew which way to walk. I was glad I hadn't succeeded in kicking her away. My dad took me back to our towels and family, and I was saved.

At the time, I felt it very important that I not be responsible for getting lost. I blamed my parents for not watching me close enough; I blamed my new friends for leaving me; I blamed the ball that kept me hyper occupied; I blamed the crowds on the beach; in the end, I blamed the whole beach. I didn't know the word at the time, but I made myself into a victim.

My dad taught me, however, that it was my responsibility to look up often to make sure I knew where our towels and family were. He promised that if I did that, I would not get lost again.

I played all the rest of the day, but I made sure to look up often and, as a result, never got lost again.

While studying geology in college, I learned that what I had experienced is called longshore drift. This is where waves hit the beach at an angle and wash up as far as they can go; then the water returns to the sea by the shortest possible route, which is straight downhill, not back along the same angle it came up in. The net effect of this continuous motion is to move the sand in a series of arcs along the beach face.

For example, it's estimated that one million cubic yards of sand per year are moved southward across the beach at Santa Monica, California.[2]

I was like a piece of sand. By following the waves up at an angle, then straight down, over and over again, I had made my way down the beach quite a distance without even knowing it. I thought I was just going up and down in the same spot, but I wasn't. I was unintentionally drifting, and in that process I got lost. My family hadn't moved; I had. My family wasn't lost; I was. I hadn't intended to get lost, but I did.

Some of the many shoes donated at Giving Machines go to needy children through Helen’s Hope Chest in Arizona, USA.
Other donations to the machines went to Helen’s Hope Chest in Mesa, Arizona. Helen’s Hope Chest exists to provide for the basic needs of children who are in foster or kinship care. Here’s what Kate Pompay, Executive Director of Helen’s Hope Chest, had to say about the support they received from the Giving Machines:
“When I received the first update from the #LightTheWorld campaign, I was floored. Over $27,000 had been raised in just a few weeks. I immediately thought of shoes—a lot of new shoes to give to children and teens in foster and kinship care.
“Fast forward a few months when Jill* and Mark* walked into Helen’s Hope Chest for their scheduled ‘shopping’ trip for their five-year-old granddaughter. When we asked how things were going, they looked at each other and pulled out court documents that gave them custody of their two grandsons. We didn’t hesitate to add the boys to the shopping trip to make sure they had what they needed without costing the grandparents any more.
“The funding from the Giving Machines ensures that Helen’s Hope Chest will not have to turn away kids in need.
“As for those shoes I envisioned? They have been walking away on the feet of hundreds of children every month.”

The older members of the Farr West Third Ward, Plain City Utah Stake, were invited to an evening of formal dining and dancing hosted by the ward’s Young Men and Young Women.
The young people, dressed in their best, picked up their special guests in chauffeur-driven cars. They served dinner, provided a photographer to record the event, and led a sing-along.
The young hosts had earned the money to hold the dinner by sponsoring a spook alley during the week preceding Halloween.

I want to conclude with one final story about him. This account comes from Elder Marlowe Kent Ashton, a missionary that served in Tahiti from 1962 to 1965.

And one quick side note to all of you missionaries and future missionaries—please make sure to record these stories. Remember, everyone has a story and those stories matter. You don’t know how grateful I am to have these words about my great grandfather.

Elder Ashton said, “In 1964, Elder Thomas S. Monson, youngest member of the Council of the Twelve Apostles, was assigned to oversee the missions of the South Pacific. When he visited the French Polynesian Mission in Tahiti, I, one of the missionaries there, was asked to translate for him at a special conference where he would talk to the members and missionaries in the capital city of Papeete. At the end of the conference, we all stood to sing “We Thank Thee Oh God for a Prophet.”

During the song, Elder Monson walked down into the audience to stand by an old man in shabby clothing standing next to one of the pews. He put his arm around the man, and we all sang this song in French, Tahitian, and English. Although President Monson could not see what was happening, I was standing where I could see many members of the congregation shedding tears as they watched an apostle of the Lord standing by one of the great and most beloved members of the Church in Tahiti. His name was Tahauri Hutihuti.” 6

When I was preparing for this devotional, I saw that President Monson even shared part of this story when he was here in Laie in January 1999 at a BYU–Hawaii devotional. Over the years, I had heard President Monson share this story in General Conference and a couple of other talks. I’m going to finish the rest of the story in President Monson’s own words:

“As I said a tender good-bye to the Tahitians, each one came forward, placed an exquisite shell lei about my neck, and left an affectionate kiss upon my cheek. Tahauri, who did not speak English, stood by my side and spoke to me through an interpreter. The interpreter listened attentively and then, turning to me, reported: "Tahauri says he has no gift to bestow except the love of a full heart." Tahauri clasped my hand and kissed my cheek. Of all the gifts received that memorable night, the gift of this faithful man remains the brightest.” 7

As a young married couple, my wife and I were expecting the birth of our first child. I was studying law at the university and working nights in a gasoline station. We had very little money. We had furnished our small basement apartment with some used furniture and many wooden boxes.
As the time of the birth approached, we had assembled everything we would need, except we had no bed for the baby and no money to buy one.
It was our practice at that time to pay our tithing each month on fast Sunday. As that day approached, we discussed the possibility of postponing the paying of our tithing so that we could make an initial payment on a baby bed. In the spirit of the fast, and after praying, we decided to pay the tithing and trust our Heavenly Father.
A few days later, I was walking in the business district of the city and unexpectedly met my former mission president, who asked if I was in school or working at a job. I replied that I was doing both.
Was I married? “Yes!”
Did we have children? “No, but our first child will be born in just a few weeks.”
“Do you have a bed for the baby?” he asked. “No,” I replied reluctantly, startled by the direct question.
“Well,” he said, “I am now in the furniture business, and it would please me to have a baby bed delivered to your apartment as a gift.”
A great feeling of relief, gratitude, and testimony came over me.
The gift filled a temporal need but is still a poignant reminder of the spiritual experience that accompanied it, confirming again that the law of tithing is a commandment with a promise.

The story is told of two outdoor enthusiasts who hired a bush plane to fly them to a remote lake for their annual fishing trip. Following a successful outing, the pilot returned to retrieve them. However, he quickly informed the fishermen that his small plane would not support them, their equipment, and the added weight of the fish they had caught. A second flight would be required.
Now, the sportsmen were not interested in paying for a second round-trip. So after a promise to pack tightly and a small bonus payment, the pilot reluctantly agreed to attempt the flight.
The fishermen grinned knowingly as the pilot forced the aircraft into the air. However, seconds later the plane stalled and crashed into a large, flat swampy area at the end of the lake.
The plane had stalled as it flew because of a well-known phenomenon called “ground effect.” Ground effect is created when air is compressed between the aircraft’s wings and the earth’s surface—when they are in close proximity. In this case, as the bush plane inched its way upward out of ground effect, it was required to fly on its own power, which it simply could not do.
Fortunately there were no serious injuries, and after regaining their senses, one of the fishermen asked the other, “What happened?” The second replied, “We crashed on takeoff—about a hundred yards (91 m) from where we ended up last year!”

It was not a good time. Questions swirled in my head that seemingly didn’t have answers. For months I had been struggling with who I was and what direction my life was taking. To remedy this problem I began attending many different churches, searching for the truth. But it seemed I always ended up at the church my family went to. Somehow, though, it never felt quite right. As I thought about my feelings, I just assumed I felt this way because my life was so mixed up. I was also associating with the wrong crowd and allowing these people to influence my life, which didn’t help matters. Deep inside, all I felt was utter loneliness.
I realized I needed to change my life. I stopped hanging around with people who were a bad influence on me, and I stopped putting myself in situations that would force me to choose between God and my friends. Even with these changes, I didn’t feel like I was receiving any answers or encouragement from God, and I sometimes wondered if He really was there.
In December I graduated from college, and I decided to move back in with my family in Utah. Those plans changed when my dad took a job in another state. Since I had already accepted an internship in St. George, Utah, I decided to stay. In St. George, I began going to my church, but once again felt alone and desolate. It was as if part of me were dead or missing.
One night in my room, I cried out to the Lord and asked Him for guidance and direction. I started to tremble and cry because I so desired to have Him in my life.
At that moment, I heard something or someone say, “Read the Book of Mormon.” It wasn’t a booming voice; it was gentle, quiet, and peaceful. This prompting confused me. I had been exposed to the LDS Church before and had no desire to learn about it. In fact, a high school friend had given me a copy of the Book of Mormon, and I had given it away.
I tried to brush off the voice, but it came again: “Read the Book of Mormon.”
“Why would I want to read the Book of Mormon?” I thought. The prompting came again. “It’s the perfect time. You’re on your own now.” As crazy as this seemed, I suddenly felt a strong desire to get a copy of this book, and I figured the visitors’ center at the St. George Utah Temple was a good place to start. I went on a tour with Sister Pang, a missionary serving in the center, and afterward we watched a movie and talked. The feeling of a presence—a holy presence—was so apparent that I had to fight back tears. It was like I was on the verge of discovering something wonderful. Sister Pang gave me a Book of Mormon as I left.
I went straight home and immediately began reading. As I studied 2 Nephi 27, I began to feel very tired. I almost closed the book, but again I knew I had to press on. I said a prayer that I would be able to understand what I was reading, and I continued. As I re-read the passage I decided to compare it to Isaiah 29 and 30. For me, these scriptures were the key that unlocked knowledge and understanding of the gospel. I knew then without a doubt that the words in the Book of Mormon were true. They were another testimony of Jesus Christ.
I rushed out of my room and told my roommates the Book of Mormon was true. To see the shock and excitement on their faces was great. I rushed to the visitors’ center, but Sister Pang wasn’t there. So I met Sister Taylor, and we talked for hours about the gospel. I asked the missionaries to teach me the discussions, and I set a baptism date after the first discussion.
It wasn’t all easy after that. For the next couple of weeks I received letters and phone calls from my family and friends telling me what to do—and what not to do. I didn’t mind giving up my friends and my lifestyle. But my family’s dislike of my decision made this time in my life very difficult. I decided to stop taking the discussions, to stop praying, and to stop reading. For a week I turned away from everything. I felt so alone and confused. Then one day I called my dad and told him I was determined to be baptized. He told me he loved me and then he hung up the phone.
The joy and peace I felt at that moment cast out everything else. I immediately prayed that Heavenly Father would comfort my family. I began the discussions again, and soon I received a letter from my father. He again told me he loved me no matter what, and I would always be his daughter.
The Lord had taken care of my family and led me to a new life. I’m so thankful for the missionaries, and I’m thankful for my friends who strived to live the gospel principles. Mostly, though, I’m grateful to be a child of God. Every day I’m amazed at the love and the comfort the Lord brings to me. To be recognized by Heavenly Father is so precious.