Gospel Story Finder

I had another experience in a very important area in the Church. Unfortunately, two Church leaders had become embroiled in a feud and neither would yield.

I had held a stake conference all day and had gone without my supper and had traveled over a range of mountains to meet these unhappy people.

Hour after hour we served, and begged, and endeavored to convince them to change their minds and get them together, all to no avail.

Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve o’clock, one, and two o’clock and the night was going fast, and I was very, very weary. I flipped open my Doctrine and Covenants again. Automatically it turned to page 105 and I read it to them. They almost gasped for wonder, and this is what we read:

“Nevertheless, he has sinned; but verily I say unto you, I, the Lord, forgive sins unto those who confess their sins before me and ask forgiveness, who have not sinned unto death.

“My disciples, in days of old, sought occasion against one another and forgave not one another in their hearts; and for this evil they were afflicted and sorely chastened.

“Wherefore, I say unto you, that ye ought to forgive one another; for he that forgiveth not his brother his trespasses standeth condemned before the Lord; for there remaineth in him the greater sin.

“I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men.

“And ye ought to say in your hearts—let God judge between me and thee, and reward thee according to thy deeds.

“And him that repenteth not of his sins, and confesseth them not, ye shall bring before the church, and do with him as the scripture saith unto you, either by commandment or by revelation.” (D&C 64:7–12.)

I could feel the two antagonists were yielding, and I read the Lord’s Prayer, wherein He said,

“But when ye pray, use not vain repetitions, as the heathen do. …

“For your Father knoweth what things ye have need of, before ye ask him.

“After this manner … pray ye: Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.

“Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.

“Give us this day our daily bread.

“And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.” (Matt. 6:7–13.)

As though he needed to refresh their minds, the Lord returned to the theme:

“For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you:

“But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.” (Matt. 6:14–15.)

Hard to do? Of course. The Lord never promised an easy road, nor a simple gospel, nor low standards, nor a low norm. The price is high, but the goods attained are worth all they cost. The Lord himself turned the other cheek; he suffered himself to be buffeted and beaten without remonstrance; he suffered every indignity and yet spoke no word of condemnation. And his question to all of us is: “Therefore, what manner of men ought ye to be?” And his answer to us is: “Even as I am.” (3 Ne. 27:27.)

In his The Prince of Peace, William Jennings Bryan wrote:

“The most difficult of all the virtues to cultivate is the forgiving spirit. Revenge seems to be natural with man; it is human to want to get even with an enemy. It has even been popular to boast of vindictiveness; it was once inscribed on a man’s monument that he had repaid both friends and enemies more than he had received. This was not the spirit of Christ.” (Independence, Zion’s Printing and Publishing Company, 1925, p. 35.)

If we have been wronged or injured, forgiveness means to blot it completely from our minds. To forgive and forget is an ageless counsel. “To be wronged or robbed,” said the Chinese philosopher Confucius, “is nothing unless you continue to remember it.”

The injuries inflicted by neighbors, by relatives, or by spouses are generally of a minor nature, at least at first. We must forgive them. Since the Lord is so merciful, must not we be? “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy” (3 Ne. 12:7) is another version of the Golden Rule. “All manner of sin and blasphemy shall be forgiven unto men,” said the Lord, “but the blasphemy against the Holy Ghost shall not be forgiven unto men.” (Matt. 12:31.) If the Lord is so gracious and kind, we must be also.

“When such people as the widow, Bishop Kempton, April Aaron and others grievously wronged can forgive; when men like Stephen and Paul can forgive vicious attacks against themselves and set the example of forgiveness; then all men should be able to forgive in their reach for perfection.

“Across the barren deserts of hate and greed and grudge is the beautiful valley of paradise. We read in the papers and hear on TV constantly that the world ‘is in an awful mess.’ Not true! The world is still most beautiful. It is man who is off center. The sun still illumines the day and gives light and life to all things; the moon still brightens the night; oceans still feed the world and provide transportation; rivers still drain the land, and provide irrigation water to nourish crops. Even the ravages of time have not sloughed off the majesty of the mountains. Flowers still bloom and birds still sing, and children still laugh and play. What is wrong with the world is man-made.

“It can be done. Man can conquer self. Man can overcome. Man can forgive all who have trespassed against him and go on to receive peace in this life and eternal life in the world to come.” (The Miracle of Forgiveness, p. 300.)

Now we come to a realization that the kingdom of God and the church of Jesus Christ constitute a world church. It is fast coming to have world dominion. We, its members, must learn to contain ourselves and love all mankind, all our brothers and sisters of every nation and clime. Certainly we shall be wholly without enmity or grudge or ill feeling. We must forgive to be forgiven. Let God be the righteous judge.

We shall love all our neighbors as ourselves and God will bless all of us. Jesus Christ, also our Lord and Savior, is the Lord of this world. God bless us that we may follow closely his dictates, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Tony’s family lived in a two-bedroom apartment right in the middle of the city. His parents slept in one bedroom, and Tony and his little sister, Linda, slept in the other.
In the front room was an alcove. It was sort of like a closet without a door. Tony wanted to sleep in the alcove by himself, but his papa and mamma said no.
“We need you to take care of your sister. When Linda is older and no longer afraid of trains going past at night and shaking the house, you can move to the alcove,” they told him. “But not until then.”
“When will that be?” Tony asked. But no one could give him an answer.
Then one day a letter came from Tony’s grandfather. He was coming to stay with them.
“Where will Grandfather sleep?” Tony asked.
“In the alcove,” Papa answered.
“But that’s where I want to sleep,” Tony said.
“I’m sorry,” Mamma answered, “but Grandfather is old, and he needs his rest.”
“But, Mamma,” Tony said, “you always tell me that I am a growing boy and need rest too!”
“Yes, you do, Tony,” she said. “But the alcove isn’t the only place you can get it.”
Tony was happy Grandfather was coming to stay, but it was hard not to be upset about having him sleep in the alcove.
The afternoon that Grandfather arrived he asked Tony to go for a walk with him to the candy store. On the way they saw some boys playing ball on a vacant lot.
“Looks like a good baseball game,” Grandfather said.
“Oh, yes,” Tony said.
“Don’t you play baseball?” Grandfather asked him.
“I play in front of our apartment,” Tony said. “Mamma doesn’t like me to come down here by myself.”
“Well, you’re not by yourself now,” Grandfather said. “Let’s stop and play for a while. I’ll play in the outfield.”
Tony looked up at his tall grandfather. “You will?”
“Of course. What position do you play?”
“I’m a catcher,” Tony said.
“Then let’s play,” Grandfather said.
Both of them joined the game. Grandfather made two nice catches in left field and Tony hit a double.
Finally Grandfather wiped his forehead with his big red handkerchief. “I’m ready to go to the candy store now,” he said, “if that’s all right with you, Tony.”
“Okay,” Tony said. “We’re ahead thirty-five to two, and our team can get along without us now!”
Grandfather and Tony said goodbye to their friends and walked down the block.
The door of the candy store opened when Grandfather pushed on it, and a little bell tinkled. Inside it smelled like a mixture of licorice and peppermint.
Grandfather picked out some chocolates for Mamma and a lollipop for Linda. He told Tony to choose whatever he wanted.
Tony chose a piece of bubble gum with a baseball card inside the wrapper. The gum was dusted with sugar and crackled as Tony started chewing.
Tony had a wonderful afternoon with his grandfather, but at dinner that night he couldn’t help thinking about the alcove again.
Then Tony began to think about his own father growing old. Tony wondered if he would ask Papa to live with him even if his family had only a small apartment and Tony’s son had to sleep in a room with his little sister.
Tony looked up at his father’s strong, warm dark face. Suddenly he was filled with love for Papa. It was almost a sad kind of love, and it made his throat feel large and lumpy.
He stood up and went around the table. “Papa,” he said, “when you’re old and alone, I want you to come live with me.”
After dinner Grandfather pushed his chair back from the table. “Tony,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about the alcove.”
Grandfather put his long legs out in front of him. “Do you think these long legs could fit in the alcove?”
Tony looked at Grandfather’s legs. He did not know what to say.
“I think I’d better sleep on the couch,” Grandfather suggested, “and I think you should sleep in the alcove.”
“But what about Linda?” Tony asked. “She’s afraid of trains, so she can’t sleep alone.”
Everyone looked at Linda.
“I’ll tell Linda a story every night at bedtime,” Grandfather said, “if she will promise not to listen to the trains. Okay, Linda?”
Linda looked at him. “Every single night?” she asked.
“I, won’t miss one night!” Grandfather promised.
“Will it be a special story?” Linda asked.
“I’ll tell you a very special story every night,” Grandfather promised.
Tony looked at Grandfather’s legs again. He could fit in the alcove, Tony thought. He just says he couldn’t.
Suddenly some of that love he felt for Papa filled Tony’s heart for Grandfather too.

It seemed everyone wanted a summer home in the humid coastal zone of Ilo, Peru, so my missionary companion and I always had plenty of doors to knock. Much of our door contacting occurred within rows of identical three-story, 12-apartment buildings. It was easy to get lost.
One night we planned to visit a woman we had met. We got her floor and apartment number right, but we mistakenly went to the apartment complex one over from hers. We knocked, and when a young man opened the door, we realized we had gone to the wrong apartment.
But before we could explain our mistake, the young man said, “Ah, elders, good to see you. My grandma went to the store, but she should be back any minute. Come on in.”
With confused looks, we entered and sat on the couch. When the grandmother arrived a few minutes later, she was thrilled to see us.
Still confused, we asked how she knew the missionaries. She explained that they had taught her two years before, but when her schedule became too busy, they had stopped visiting.
The particular night we came, she was feeling worthless. The whole week had been hard for her. She was overworked and tired and felt that nothing she did really mattered. Then we showed up, brightened her day, and gave her a second chance at the purpose-giving gospel of Jesus Christ. Our unexpected visit was God’s sign to her that she mattered to Him.
We had gone to the wrong apartment, but we were exactly where we needed to be. Losing our way brought us to find this daughter of God again. Through our imperfection in navigating, God directed us to her.
After we left, we found the woman we had planned to visit. She didn’t even notice we were late. I think about what would have happened had we found the right apartment from the start.
Had we gone where we had planned, we would have missed a much-needed chance to share the Savior’s love. But God worked through our imperfection to point us where He needed us to tread. I’m grateful He let us become lost so that we could find the one who needed direction.

Some have the gift of being a friend, of being selfless and thoughtful and lifting those around them. Speaking of the most treasured spiritual gift of charity, Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:5 says it "seeketh not her own." That certainly means that someone with the gift of charity isn't always looking out for himself or herself, isn't overly concerned with his or her own self-interest. But I learned something of charity from someone with such a gift of friendship. After graduate school we moved to Southern California. We moved in on a Saturday, a call came on Sunday, and on Monday I was surprised to find myself the new early-morning seminary teacher, facing a group of 30 high-school juniors and seniors. They were delightful. As I got to know them I particularly noticed one young man. Everyone wanted to be around him. It was interesting that there was nothing superficially exceptional about him: he didn't have a great car, was not a big athlete. So I observed, and I learned. For example, when most of us go into a fireside, who do we look for? I think we would agree, for our friends, for those with whom we're comfortable. Not my friend Sean. Though everyone was saving him a seat, Sean would look for the person who was alone, who needed to have someone to sit by. He was not seeking out his own buddies, not seeking out his own. When you walk into a dance, who do you look for? Well, you'll have to answer that one for yourself; but I suspect some of you might have been thinking of physical descriptions of people in the room. My friend Sean was looking for whoever might feel a little lonely or awkward. Sean's goal was to see everyone had a good time. He wasn't seeking his own pleasure or gratification, he wasn't seeking his own. And I can tell you his gift had a significant affect, on the love and the unity of our Stake, and a richness came into his life.

Max rocked back and forth in his chair. His favorite part of Primary was about to start.
“Welcome to singing time,” Sister Rose said. The piano started to play. Max sang along.
Max loved singing time. But his family wasn’t really like the happy families he sang about in Primary. Things were hard at home.
That’s why Max liked Primary so much. He always felt loved and safe when he was there. He felt peace in Primary.
“For our next song, I have a special challenge for you,” said Sister Rose. “As we sing, I want you to think about what it will be like when you are grown up and have a family of your own.”
The piano music started again. The notes were soft and peaceful. Max looked around the room. He could see pictures of Jesus and the temple hanging on the wall.
The other children began to sing. Max started singing too. Mine is a home where every hour is blessed by the strength of priesthood power.
Max closed his eyes and imagined being a dad. He thought of praying with his future family. He imagined singing songs with them, playing games together, and having home evening.
As he sang the last words, Max had a big smile on his face. I can often feel the Savior near when love is spoken here.
Someday Max could have a family like that. Someday he could have a home where he felt peaceful like he did in Primary. Thinking about it made Max feel warm all over.
He raised his hand. “Sister Rose,” Max said, “I think that song is kind of like a recipe. A recipe for a happy family.”
“You’re right,” Sister Rose said. “No family is perfect. But when we try to be like Jesus, we can help our families. We can help make our homes peaceful places.”
Max looked at the picture of the temple on the wall. He knew he could help his family now by being like Jesus. And even though it was far away, he was excited to have his own family. And it made him happy to know that he could be with them forever.
After his mission, Max got married in the temple. Now he always does his best to make his home a place where people can feel loved.

I recently went with priesthood leaders to visit the homes of four women in Honduras. These sisters and their families were in need of priesthood keys and authority, priesthood ordinances and covenants, and priesthood power and blessings.
Our last visit was at the home of a sister whose husband recently died in a tragic accident. A recent convert to the Church, she had not understood that she could receive her own endowment and be sealed to her husband. When we taught her that these blessings could be available to her and her deceased husband, she was filled with hope. Knowing that through temple ordinances and covenants her family can be sealed together, she has faith and determination to face the trials ahead.
This widow’s son is preparing to receive the Aaronic Priesthood. His ordination will be a great blessing to her and her family. They will have a priesthood holder in their home.

One of my former seminary students wrote:
“I need your dad to know that he just now found those letters for a reason. My 18-year-old daughter has been struggling with her testimony and feeling that being a ‘perfect Latter-day Saint girl’ isn’t for her. She doesn’t share her feelings with us. It’s been hard.”
My former student, devastated by some things her daughter had recently written in a blog, added:
“I knew I had to talk to her about it. As usual, when we have these conversations, her face was stony and defiant, and she didn’t say anything. I handed her my letter and told her I wanted her to read it.
“I saw her reread the first paragraph several times. I had written that I didn’t know if I had a testimony, that being a perfect Latter-day Saint was a lot and maybe not for me.
“My daughter started to cry. I needed her to know that I truly understand her struggles. She would never have believed it without that letter! Some of her wall has come down, and I truly feel like the timing of this letter was a tender mercy. If I had received it 10 years ago, I might have thrown it away or lost it! Please thank your dad for having us write the letters and for misplacing them for all these years! Nothing is a coincidence.”

During a particularly difficult time, I was feeling quite unsettled. Actually, pretty desperate for the Lord’s help. By this point in my life, I knew Jesus Christ: who He was, and what He had done for me. I had faith that He could help me and would provide comfort.
I trusted Him. So I went in prayer, utilizing the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ for relief.
Brothers and sisters, it took me a long time, well into my adulthood, to learn how the power of the Atonement works for me. But in that moment of prayer, as I asked God to lift my burden so I could set aside my grief and my concerns and focus on the tasks that I had before me, I felt immediate relief, and I felt this wise counsel, “You know where to find peace.”

Let us trust in our leaders. Trust in our leaders can be lost very easily. In fact, let me illustrate how easily it can be lost with another situation. There was a young man with whom I grew up in a Mormon community. He was active the same way I was. His parents were active and strong, but there was a situation that developed in that home. After every Church meeting on the way home and at home in that little farming community, the parents played one of their favorite indoor games:
He would say, “Honey, did you notice that the bishop made a mistake? He had to be corrected by his counselor in that announcement.”
And he would say, “Yes, and did you notice that the Sunday School superintendent made a mistake and announced the wrong hymn?”
And she would say, “Yes, and did you notice that the Sunday School teacher could have used better scriptures, and also got a little bit off the subject?”
Then she would say, “Did you notice so-and-so’s hat?”
In the process they diminished the efforts of the people who were there. It didn’t affect them. He went on to be called into the stake presidency. In fact, after that, I don’t think they commented very much about other people’s personal failings and weaknesses because they were then on the other side of the line. They later became temple workers. But that son—hearing the human frailties of the leaders—when he went into the service, when he continued his life, strayed far from the paths of the Church because he had not developed a full trust and respect for the leaders of the Church in spite of their human frailties.

One day during my first mission, my companion, Elder Gordon Gallup, and I walked along a rural road late in the day when there was little traffic. It seemed no one wanted to give a ride to two tired elders. We knelt and asked the Lord to help us get a ride.
Almost immediately a pickup truck stopped. The driver, Sam Potaka, lived close to Taihape, our destination. When we reached his village, Utiku, he invited us to stay for dinner at his house. We held a wonderful missionary discussion with his family, and in due time Sam’s wife, mother-in-law, two married daughters, one married son, and their families gained testimonies and joined the Church. Later two other sons were also converted. The conversion of this wonderful family was a highlight of my mission.

One Sunday after sacrament meeting, the children and we teachers were to go directly to our classrooms instead of meeting first in the Primary room. When I got to my classroom, I realized that I had left my teaching materials in the Primary room. I told my class to sit down, that I would be right back. Before I hurried away, I said, “Be quiet now!”
When I returned, the classroom seemed unusually quiet. I slowly opened the door and peeked inside. My students were all kneeling, their arms folded and heads bowed, quietly waiting for me to return to have class prayer.
I want to say thank you to my class! You are all really trying to do what Jesus Christ would want you to do.

In January 2021 I was visiting my Granny Cecilia’s grave. I walked past this older man and gave him a smile and said, “Hi”. He was visiting the grave of his wife of more than 60 years who had passed away in October 2020. I immediately felt to say, “You’ll see her again.” He immediately responded that he believed that too. I told him where I went to church. He said that he had attended a few times in another ward (Dundee 2nd) with his wife and young family—around 50 years previously. I was surprised how small the world felt.

We spoke at the freezing graveside for over an hour. I felt I couldn’t put into words the experience I had and how special it felt. It felt like a dream, and I even questioned if it had happened.

A couple of months later I was going on a drive on a Sunday afternoon. The main route was closed, the alternative leading me close to my Gran’s graveyard. So, I thought I would go up for a visit.

As I pulled into the cemetery, I saw a man getting into a car, so I sped up and parked right next to him. He got out and said, “Lydia McPhee!” We hugged and he told me that on the day we originally met, he thought he had met an angel—that’s what he was telling his friends and family. He had also questioned if the experience had really happened. On that day he had felt like life wasn’t worth living anymore; he wasn’t coping well with his wife’s death. But after seeing me, things started to change, and he had hope for the first time in years. While looking over the vista of Dundee, we spoke for over two hours in the sunshine.

Almost a year went by, and I hadn’t bumped into him, so I searched for him on Facebook and found him. Within an hour he had sent me a message. We arranged to meet the following Saturday. It was good to see him. We spoke for over four hours—time flew by. We said goodbye and agreed to keep in touch and to meet more often.

The next day I was at church. Sunday school had just finished when out of the corner of my eye I saw Mike. There he was in church! He told me that he had woken up that morning and felt he had to come. He said he tried ignoring the feeling but found himself getting his suit and shoes ready whilst telling himself he wasn’t going.

I introduced him to everyone that walked by; I could feel his excitement. When I went home that day, he called me and said that he was feeling uplifted, and that everything felt right for the first time in years. He said that he wanted to be taught by the missionaries.

Mike was baptised in January this year by my dad and has been confirmed a member and received the Aaronic Priesthood. My sister Rebekah and I were the witnesses.

I am so grateful to Heavenly Father for blessing me by being involved in helping Mike. Mike is now eagerly anticipating entering the temple to receive his ordinances and be sealed to his wife, family, and ancestors.

Many years ago we used to have money-raising events in our wards to pay for the utilities and other local expenses and activities now paid by the general Church funds and the local unit budget allowance. We used to have bazaars, fairs, dinners, and other fund-raising activities. At that time my ward had a wonderful, devoted, committed bishop.
A member of a neighboring ward found that a dunking machine was a successful money-raising activity. Participants would pay to throw baseballs at a marked mechanical arm. Hitting the bull’s-eye would trigger a release, plunging the person sitting on the seat of the machine into a big basin of cold water. Our ward decided to use this machine, and someone suggested that more people would pay for balls to throw if the bishop would be willing to sit on the dunking seat. Our bishop was a good sport, and because he was responsible for raising the money, he willingly consented to sit on the dunking seat. Soon some began to buy balls and to throw them at the target. Several hit the mark, and the bishop was drenched. After half an hour of this, he began to shake with the cold.
While some of the people thought this was great fun, my father was very offended that the office of the bishop had been so belittled and held up to ridicule or even contempt. Even though the money raised was intended for a good cause, I can still remember feeling ashamed that some of our people did not show more respect for both the office and the man who had by night and day served us so well as our good shepherd. As holders of the priesthood of God, we should set the example of sustaining the leadership of the Church to our families, our friends, and our associates.

Sometimes it’s easy to look past the poverty and problems in your own backyard. That’s what youth from the Roanoke Virginia Stake wanted to avoid when they decided to help out some people right nearby, at the Roanoke Area Rescue Mission, a faith-based homeless shelter, which also runs a separate facility for needy women and their children.
Young men and women from the stake joined in with young adults and a few missionaries to participate in “Clean Sweep Day.” The volunteers did everything from picking up trash off the streets of the neighborhoods surrounding the rescue mission, to serving food, washing dishes, setting tables, refilling water glasses, and emptying the garbage.
Before the youth went to the rescue mission for the service project, they collected sugar and napkins in their various wards and branches for several months. They donated these items to the rescue mission, which serves around 900 people every day.
For these youth, it was a very real example of what King Benjamin taught in the Book of Mormon: “And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God” (Mosiah 2:17).

On occasion President Romney has told a delightful story about his wife. He said that he was concerned about his wife and couldn’t get her to go to the doctor, so he consulted with the doctor for advice. The doctor told him to use a simple test that would convince her of the need to see him about her hearing. He told President Romney to go home and call to her from several places, and if she didn’t respond quickly, there would be clear evidence of her need for medical help.
So President Romney went home and called to her from the front door: “Ida!” No answer. Then he moved inside and called, “Ida!” Then he called from the dining room. Still no answer. At last he confronted her in the kitchen and said, “Ida, I have been calling you.” And she replied, “I know, my dear, and I have answered you three times.”
President Romney then went on to say, “The problem wasn’t Ida’s.”

Having her grandmother living with her, Jassy Ramirez, 14, of the Manhattan 4th Ward, has the perfect opportunity to learn about her family. “My grandmother takes a lot of care with me,” says Jassy. “She has taught me how to clean house and how to wash clothes and fix my bed. She teaches me how to do all my chores.”
Jassy’s grandmother also tells her stories about growing up in the Dominican Republic. “My grandmother had 10 brothers and sisters. They were so poor. They suffered a lot. They didn’t have lights or running water. They couldn’t go to school,” says Jassy. “She tells me that it’s very important to get my education. Hearing these things makes me appreciate the things I have.”
Being with her grandmother every day has helped Jassy learn the value of working hard. Jassy has also learned to appreciate her mother, Eridania, who joined the Church when Jassy was seven. Because of her mother’s decision, Jassy has had the blessing of being raised in the Church. And now that she is old enough to be in Young Women, Jassy says, “When I started in Young Women, it helped me a lot. It helped me grow spiritually.”

It was the first Christmas I got to work. My friend and I cleaned gardens, scrubbed walls, and did all sorts of jobs all month. We ended up with $10 each, one week before Christmas.
Everybody had already bought their gifts, and I was debating whether to give my $10 away or not. But when Christmas day came, I gave the money I had worked so hard for to my mom. She cried because she knew what I’d been through to get it.
I felt so happy! I felt I had really done something good. I’ll never forget that Christmas, ever!
—Vao Paongo, 13Nuku‘alofa, Tonga

Just a month ago the choir for the General Young Woman Meeting had a dress rehearsal in the Conference Center on a Saturday morning. Families were invited to attend. As I arrived, I noticed a family of five children reverently waiting in the seats for the practice to begin. Each of the young boys had on a freshly ironed white shirt and tie, and the little girls wore their Sunday dresses. The mother and father were neatly dressed as well. As I shook the oldest boy’s hand, I said, “I compliment you on the way you are dressed on this early Saturday morning. I can tell that you understand and have been taught some things that it takes a lot of people all their lives to realize.” He flashed his mother a sheepish look, and she gave him that knowing look that says, “I told you so.”

Born in England in 1926, Hubert Henry Hodgkiss moved to Salisbury, Southern Rhodesia, in 1949. He initially learned about the Church from a friend who was investigating the gospel. Hugh had doubts about the restored gospel and set out to prove to his friend that the Church was not true. Instead, after searching the gospel closely, Hugh developed a testimony of its truthfulness and decided to be baptized. “I was wrong,” he told his friend. “I am joining the Church.”1
Hugh was baptized February 1, 1951, marking the first convert baptism in Southern Rhodesia. He enjoyed being around people and made friends everywhere he went. His friendly nature allowed him to make great contributions to the growth of the Church in the area.
In 1959 Hugh became president of the Salisbury Branch. His counselors were also local members. This was the first time this branch presidency consisted of local members. Before this, full-time missionaries had always filled the responsibilities of the branch presidency.

To the young men of the priesthood, if you haven’t served a mission, this is not the time for a lot of involvement in love or romance. It is a time for saving money. Do you know how much a mission costs today? It averages about $150 a month. For a two-year mission, that is $3,600.
One young man was startled when his father sat down with him to figure how he could earn that money. Noting that the most productive earning time would be from ages 16–19, they figured that he would have to save at least $1,000 each year for that three-year period. This also meant that the young man had to earn another $600 before age 16 (he was then 12) to save sufficiently for his mission. Hopefully, many start earlier than that.
You’ve heard some of our young men say, “But I can’t find a job. No one will hire me.” May I suggest to you the example of one enterprising 13-year-old who has already produced some handbills that he is passing out in his neighborhood. The handbill reads: “When you’re on vacation and need someone to care for your yard, or if you want any odd jobs done, call Bill, because when you call me, I’ll be there.” He then signed his name and included his phone number. He already has his summer filled with work.