Gospel Story Finder

To be one we can learn from the past and prepare for the future. Many years ago, some of my younger cousins had an inspiring experience with our grandfather, Crozier Kimball. Their mothers had assigned them to do a ‘service project’ at grandpa’s farm. They were promised that they would be rewarded with grandma’s fabulous homemade cake. My cousin, Kathy Galloway, who shared this account with me was about 14 at the time. She told me the cake was not her favorite dessert, but she said, “The brown sugar and butter frosting was better than amazing…and grandma would NOT let me eat it out of the bowl…much to my dismay…so it was worth putting up with the cake to be able to eat the frosting!!!”

They ate sack lunches and worked all day. Kathy worked in the house and was “highly motivated by the smells coming from the kitchen.” When they had completed their tasks and were heading to the kitchen for their reward, the door was blocked by Grandpa. He sat down on a piano bench and invited the cousins to sit on the floor. He thanked them for their hard work and then said, “Before we eat cake, there is something I need to say to you. I do not believe any of you is old enough to understand what I am going to tell you, so I command your spirits to remember this information, because there will come a time in your lives when you will need to know and act on what I am about to share with you. My grandfather, Heber Kimball, and other of your pioneer ancestors faced physical challenges that you cannot imagine…even in your wildest imaginations. Thankfully, you will never know what they endured as they crossed the plains. And they learned one thing really fast: either they worked together…and loved and strengthened and nourished and supported and sustained each other…or no one survived. This is one of the great legacies they left to you!”

Tears began to roll quietly down his cheeks. He took out his handkerchief and wiped his eyes and continued. “In my calling as a patriarch and as your grandfather, when I look down the corridors of time…when you…will become parents and grandparents in Zion, my heart aches for you. You will face emotional and spiritual challenges that most of your pioneer ancestors could never have imagined in their wildest imaginations. Your generation simply refuses to honor the great legacy of love and service they left to you…and so many of you will fail because you will not be able to survive on your own.” Then with big tears in his eyes, and a spirit-to-spirit connection, he concluded: “We need each other. In addition to sharing our testimonies of the gospel with one another, our duty is to love and serve and strengthen and nourish and support and sustain each other…especially in our family. Please remember that in the last days, your very survival may depend on your willingness to work together, to love and serve. Now, let us go eat cake.” Kathy says she can still feel his hug as she walked into the kitchen.

Fourteen-year-old Trevor Hoffman of the Carrolton Second Ward, Lewisville Texas Stake, has already been wrestling for ten years. Recently, he won the Texas Amateur Wrestling Association Championship, in the 15-and-under, 85-pound division.
Last year Trevor had a perfect 21–0 record. He credits much of his success to family support. He’s also got several Montana State wrestling and judo championships under his belt, which he earned before moving to Texas. His goal is to qualify for the 1996 and 2000 Olympics.
Trevor doesn’t live his life on the mat, though—he spends some time hitting the books and has made his school’s high honor roll. He’s also active in his ward.

While the number of Korean converts was gradually increasing, Brother Kim also found success in his secular pursuits. He was appointed president of the National Fisheries College at Pusan, which had become inoperative because of the war. Within a few months, he had it fully functional, an accomplishment that amazed many observers. During a celebration in his honor, Brother Kim told assembled parents and teachers, “I cannot accept any of the credit. I asked of God, and he is the one who accomplished the unbelievable.”

I was recently told of a woman in Idaho Falls, a widow. Over a period of 15 years she acted as proxy in giving the temple endowment to 20,000 individuals in the Idaho Falls Idaho Temple. She completed her 20,000th endowment on a Friday and returned on Saturday to do five more. She passed away the following week.
Just think of what this one little woman did. She performed these vicarious endowments for as many people as are assembled in this Conference Center this morning. Think of the reception she must have received on the other side.

Although I didn’t attend Primary as a child, I learned what a blessing Primary is when I had children of my own. Once our family moved into a new home in downtown Seoul. After moving in we discovered that there were some bad places of entertainment in the neighborhood. My wife and I worried about how this might affect our children. One day we heard our daughter and her younger brother talking in the backseat of the car. “When you go to school, some friends might ask you why you are living in such a bad neighborhood,” our daughter said. “But don’t worry. In Primary we learn how to live the gospel of Jesus Christ. As long as we follow the teachings of Jesus, we will be safe.”
My son answered, “Yes, it doesn’t matter where we live if we choose the right.”
They were talking to each other, not to us. As I listened, I felt overwhelming gratitude to their wonderful Primary teachers. My daughter and son both grew up to be faithful Latter-day Saints. So enjoy Primary, and do the things your teachers tell you. You will be better, safer people if you do.

Hirobo Obeketang sits back on his couch and smiles. He and his wife, Linda, have just finished holding family home evening with four of their children and the sister missionaries. They also treated the missionaries to a fish dinner, complete with eyes and tail—a tradition in Majuro, the capital of the Marshall Islands. As Hirobo describes his life, he expresses how grateful he is for the Church, the gospel, and his family, especially his wife.

It is June 2009. One day earlier the Majuro Marshall Islands Stake was created, and Hirobo was called to serve as the first stake executive secretary. Hirobo, as new stake president Arlington Tibon describes him, “is very, very strong,” one of the faithful leaders of the island.

But Hirobo is the first to point out that until recently that wasn’t the case. In fact, he credits his wife with being the strong one—the one who made the difference in his life. He explains, “I was baptized when I was eight years old, but when I was 16, I became less active.”

A few years later he and Linda began living together, though they weren’t married. Linda was not a member of the Church. In 2000, shortly after Linda discovered that Hirobo had been baptized as a child, she became interested in the Church and began meeting with the sister missionaries.

“She studied for two years and decided she wanted to be baptized,” Hirobo recalls. “We had to get married first, but I wasn’t interested in getting married. I was confused; I was really into the world’s temptations. I didn’t understand the importance of family, and I didn’t really care or listen to anybody.”

Linda, though not baptized, raised their children in the Church. Every year she asked Hirobo to marry her so she could get baptized; each time he said no. Over the years two of their daughters were baptized, but Hirobo did not attend their baptisms.

Then, in 2006, their nine-year-old son, Takao, passed away from a seizure and high fever. About 300 members from the Majuro district came to the funeral to support the family.

“Their support was a really big thing for me,” Hirobo says. “I started to think that God was probably telling me something.”

He began thinking about how he was the reason his wife couldn’t get baptized, even though he was a member of the Church. “She was getting stronger and stronger. She was really inspiring me,” he recalls.

“So I sat down and thought about how I was halfway through my life. I asked myself, ‘Am I going to continue doing what I am doing? Do I have a chance to work for God for the second half of my life?’ I started saying my prayers and thinking about coming back to church to start working for God.”

Hirobo began studying with the missionaries and relearning doctrine. President Nelson Bleak of the Marshall Islands Majuro Mission befriended him, as did other members, including then-district president Arlington Tibon. Finally, Hirobo committed to return, and the next thing he knew, he was attending not just sacrament meeting but also Sunday School and priesthood meeting. At last, Hirobo made up his mind.

“When I came back, I said, ‘This is it. This is what I’m going to do.’ And it changed my life completely.”

Hirobo and Linda were married on August 30, 2008. He soon received the Aaronic Priesthood and baptized his wife. Two months later Hirobo received the Melchizedek Priesthood and was called as the district executive secretary.

Hirobo looks at his wife and smiles. “She couldn’t believe I was the one who baptized her,” he says. “Imagine—it took her eight years, from 2000 to 2008. She is amazing.”

Not to be overlooked is the hand of a father. Whether he be a skilled surgeon, a master craftsman, or a talented teacher, his hands support his family. There is a definite dignity in honest labor and tireless toil. During the period of the Great Depression, I was a small boy. Fortunate were those men who had work. Jobs were few, hours long, pay scant. On our street was a father who, though old in years, supported with the labor of his hands his rather large family of girls. His firm was known as the Spring Canyon Coal Company. It consisted of one old truck, a pile of coal, one shovel, one man, and his own two hands. From early morning to late evening he struggled to survive. Yet during the monthly fast and testimony meeting, I remember specifically his expressing his thanks to the Lord for his family, his work, and his testimony. The fingers of those rough, red, chapped hands turned white as they gripped the back of the bench on which I sat as Brother James Farrell bore witness of a boy who, in a grove of trees near Palmyra, New York, knelt in prayer and beheld the heavenly vision of God the Father and Jesus Christ, the Son. That boy was Joseph Smith. The memory of those hands serves to remind me of that father’s abiding faith, his honest conviction, and his testimony of truth.

I teach an undergraduate ethics class. Last fall I shared with my students a story based on a study conducted in 1970 at Princeton University. On the morning of the final exam, a class of students showed up to the scheduled classroom only to find a sign on the board telling them that the room had changed and the correct room was across campus. Imagine how you might feel in that circumstance. These students had to quickly get from one end of campus to the other in order to make it in time for the final exam.

The students rushed across campus to find their professor waiting for them. The professor then told them that they had just completed their final exam.

The students were quite perplexed. The professor explained that he had set up several “situations” across campus that provided opportunities for them to show their ethical behavior. For example, one person had dropped an armful of books on the sidewalk. One was seen being verbally abused by another. A third person had fallen off their bike right in the students’ path, while a fourth was frantically looking for a small child.

The professor asked the students, “Did you stop to help pick up the books? Did you check to see if those who were hurt or in danger were okay? Did you join in the search for the lost child?”

This professor was trying to tell his students that the important learning is in real-life application. You see, this life is not just about writing papers and passing tests. It is not even about working hard at your job. It is all about how we treat others.

He began 1838 by taking another missionary trip, but in May he was called back to Kirtland. Joseph Smith and the Twelve had moved to Missouri, so Erastus with about 40 others headed West to join them. He arrived at Far West, Missouri, on August 8, 1838. There, to his joy he found his converted mother and unconverted father who had settled with the Saints in Missouri. He had not seen them since his departure from Vermont two years before. Of Erastus’s ten brothers and sisters, all but two had become Latter-day Saints. His father never accepted baptism.

For a few weeks Erastus lived at the home of Joseph Smith, where he earned board and room by chopping firewood, hauling water, and doing chores. But when hostilities escalated against the Saints, “I was among the defenders of Far West when it was surrounded by government troops, and I laid down my rifle with the rest of the brethren on demand of General Clark, at which time Joseph (Smith) was arrested and put into Liberty Jail.”

At one time two men sat in a railway car discussing Christ’s wonderful life. One of them said, “I think an interesting romance could be written about him [Jesus Christ].”

And the other replied, “And you are just the man to write it. Set forth the correct view of his life and character. Tear down the prevailing sentiment as to his divineness and paint him as he was—a man among men.”

The suggestion was acted on and the romance was written. The man who made the suggestion was Colonel Ingersoll, the author was General Lew Wallace, and the book was Ben Hur.

In the process of constructing it, he found himself facing an unaccountable man. The more he studied his life and character, the more profoundly he was convinced that he was more than a man among men, until at length, like the centurion under the cross, he was constrained to cry, “Verily this was the Son of God.”

At the end of each Sunday, 17-year-old Aimee Givens’s wrists and fingers ache. She spends a three-hour block of church meetings signing for hearing-impaired teenagers Matt and Leticia Nicholes.

First Aimee attends her meetings from 9:00 A.M. till noon at Fig Garden Ward in the Fresno West California Stake. Then she waits for Matt and his sister, Leticia, to arrive for their meetings at the Sierra Ward, which follows her ward. That means Aimee attends six hours of church each Sunday. And if there’s a youth fireside Sunday evening, Aimee signs for that, too. Little wonder her fingers and hands ache at the end of the day!

Aimee explains that she stands near the pulpit during sacrament meetings and signs the hymns and the messages of the speakers. She said she has to stand near the speakers so she can watch them and sign at the same time.

Since Matt and TC are both 16 years old (they are not twins; they’re adopted), they attend the same Sunday School class. Aimee attends with them and signs the lessons. After Sunday School, Matt goes to priesthood meeting and Aimee goes to Young Women with TC.

The teenagers also attend early-morning seminary together, but Matt and TC are not in the same class as Aimee. Their mom attends with them and signs for them, but when the classes meet together for special lessons or activities, Aimee does the signing.

Matt and TC are the youngest of Karl and Velyn Nicholes’s nine adopted children. Sister Nicholes says she is grateful that Matt and TC have Aimee as a friend. “I love signing. Going to church for six hours every Sunday has been beneficial, too. I really have to listen carefully to what is being said. It’s helped me grow.”

Michael J. Parry, 17, of Orem, Utah, applied direct pressure to a laceration on his sister’s arm, controlling bleeding until paramedics came. “It was frightening to see my sister lying hurt and to know she could die. I kept praying she would be all right, and when I heard the ambulance, I had a burning sensation in my heart that told me she would be okay. I think the Lord was directing me the whole time in order to save her life.” Mike is in the Orem 47th Ward, Orem Utah Windsor Stake, and is a member of Post 1447.
All of the Scouts had advice to offer to others who might find themselves in emergencies. “I would never have thought it would happen to me,” Mike Parry said. “I think people should be ready for things like this and get proper training in advance because things like this will happen.”
“I found the experience to be very humbling,” Brother Crockett said. “I feel that through the Church programs the Lord provides for us, including Scouting, that I was prepared to act in this emergency.” Mike Parry said, “It strengthened my testimony to know that the Lord helped me to be in the right place at the right time.”

A few days ago I was called to the hospital bedside of a mother in the terminal stages of a serious illness. She passed away a short time later, leaving her husband and four children, including a little boy of six. There was sorrow, deep and poignant and tragic. But shining through their tears was a faith beautiful and certain that as surely as there was now a sorrowful separation, there would someday be a glad reunion, for that marriage had begun with a sealing for time and eternity in the house of the Lord under the authority of the holy priesthood.

Every man who truly loves a woman, and every woman who truly loves a man, hopes and dreams that their companionship will last forever. But marriage is a covenant sealed by authority. If that authority is of the state alone, it will endure only while the state has jurisdiction, and that jurisdiction ends with death. But add to the authority of the state the power of the endowment given by Him who overcame death, and that companionship will endure beyond life if the parties to the marriage live worthy of the promise.

When I was much younger and less brittle, we danced to a song whose words went something like this:
Is love like a rose
That blossoms and grows,
Then withers and goes
When summer is gone?
It was only a dance ballad, but it was a question that has been asked through the centuries by men and women who loved one another and looked beyond today into the future of eternity.
To that question we answer no, and reaffirm that love and marriage under the revealed plan of the Lord are not like the rose that withers with the passing of summer. Rather, they are eternal, as surely as the God of heaven is eternal.
But this gift, precious beyond all others, comes only with a price—with self-discipline, with virtue, with obedience to the commandments of God. These may be difficult, but they are possible under the motivation that comes of an understanding of truth.
Brigham Young once declared: “There is not a young man in our community who would not be willing to travel from here to England to be married right, if he understood things as they are; there is not a young woman in our community, who loves the Gospel and wishes its blessings, that would be married in any other way.” (Discourses of Brigham Young, p. 195.)
Many have traveled that far and even farther to receive the blessings of temple marriage. I have seen a group of Latter-day Saints from Japan who had denied themselves food to make possible the long journey to the Hawaii Temple. In London we met those who had gone without necessities to afford the 7,000 mile flight from South Africa to the temple in Surrey, England. There was a light in their eyes and smiles on their faces and testimonies from their lips that it was worth infinitely more than all it had cost.
And I remember hearing in New Zealand the testimony of a man from the far side of Australia who, having been previously sealed by civil authority and then joined the Church with his wife and children, had traveled all the way across that wide continent, then across the Tasman Sea to Auckland, and down to the temple in the beautiful valley of the Waikata. As I remember his words, he said, “We could not afford to come. Our worldly possessions consisted of an old car, our furniture, and our dishes. I said to my family, ‘We cannot afford to go.’ Then I looked into the faces of my beautiful wife and our beautiful children, and I said, ‘We cannot afford not to go. If the Lord will give me strength, I can work and earn enough for another car and furniture and dishes, but if I should lose these my loved ones, I would be poor indeed in both life and in eternity.’”
How shortsighted so many of us are, how prone to look only at today without thought for the morrow. But the morrow will surely come, as will also come death and separation. How sweet is the assurance, how comforting is the peace that come from the knowledge that if we marry right and live right, our relationship will continue, notwithstanding the certainty of death and the passage of time. Men may write love songs and sing them. They may yearn and hope and dream. But all of this will be only a romantic longing unless there is an exercise of authority that transcends the powers of time and death.
Speaking from this pulpit many years ago, President Joseph F. Smith said, “The house of the Lord is a house of order and not a house of confusion; and that means … that there is no union for time and eternity that can be perfected outside of the law of God and the order of His house. Men may desire it, they may go through the form of it in this life, but it will be of no effect except it be done and sanctioned by divine authority, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.” (Gospel Doctrine, 1971–72 Melchizedek Priesthood course of study, vol. 2, p. 1.)

Even though Iceland sits out in the ocean by itself, with only good-sized icebergs for neighbors, the people living there have always been in touch with what is going on in the world. The Church was introduced to Iceland back in 1851, when two fishermen were taught the gospel and requested baptism. They returned to their island and began teaching. Those first Icelandic members were persecuted and harassed for their beliefs, much as the early converts in America were. At one point, the government even passed a law forbidding Mormon baptisms. Almost all the members of the Church eventually left Iceland and emigrated to America, many settling in Spanish Fork, Utah. Missionary and Church activity in Iceland then stopped for 60 years.
But just over 20 years ago, another seaman, Thorstein Jonsson, was baptized, becoming the first Icelandic member to live in Iceland in many years. Missionary work began in earnest, and a branch was organized.
Most of the people in Iceland belong to the Lutheran church. In Reykjavik, the capital city, the most prominent landmark is the large white Lutheran church. Just across the street is the three-story building that houses the LDS church’s offices and meetinghouse. It is here that the largest branch in Iceland meets.
Drop in on the weekly seminary class and meet the youth of the Reykjavik Branch. They may be few in numbers, but they have become close friends, which helps when being a member of the Church makes you stand out because of your standards.
Ulfar is a typical teenage boy who likes to talk and who tips his chair up against the wall during class. He mentions that the basketball team he plays with has been invited to a tournament. He loves his seminary teacher, who happens to be his mother.
Johannes is serious and quiet but has a testimony that serves as a bright light. He and his family (his older brother, Thorbergur, and their parents) are longtime members of the branch.
Three young women complete the class. They are great friends—Melanie with pretty eyes and long dark hair, Eyrún with striking light blonde hair and Hanna with her bouncy short hair and pretty smile. Everyone is on a first-name basis.
In fact, the whole country is on a first-name basis. In Iceland you are known by your first name. Last names follow an age-old system where each person is named for his or her father. So Ulfar’s father is named Gudmundur Sigurdsson, but Ulfar’s last name is Gudmundsson. His sisters’ last name is Gudmundsdóttir. And Ulfar’s mother, Valla, has the last name Knútsdóttir, because her father was named Knút. Confused? Well, everyone, even the adults, goes by his or her first name.
Ulfar’s mother tells a funny story about when their family first met the missionaries. “I told them my little boy’s name was Ulfar Kári,” Vala said. “They had this puzzled look on their faces. When you say his name aloud, it sounds like you could be saying ‘Oliver Cowdery.’ They couldn’t figure out why this family in Iceland would name their son after a prominent man in Church history.”
It’s sometimes tough to be a teenager in Iceland for the same reasons that it’s hard in other countries. It’s the time when you have to make lots of decisions about how you want to live your life. Ulfar explains: “This is a hard age. Everyone is saying, ‘Hey, come get a drink. Have a cigarette.’ Even your friends are going out drinking. They asked me two or three times, but I just kept saying no and changed the subject. They leave me alone about it now.”
Does it bother the youth to be left out of some parties? Melanie says, “I don’t want to go to parties where they will be drinking. It doesn’t bother me if they don’t ask me, because I don’t want to be there anyway. There was a party at school, but I didn’t show up because I found out the purpose of the party was to get drunk. The next day at school, they asked me why I didn’t come. I just said I didn’t want to.”
How does the Church help in their lives? Melanie said that Young Women has helped a lot. “When we come to Young Women, we have activities during the week. It helps us to know one another and be friends. That gives me support. I’m glad for that. It’s different when we are really friends.”
Ulfar speaks about the power of the priesthood. He felt that power at an early age. After his baptism, his father and the branch presidency laid their hands on his head to confirm him. When he returned to sit by his mother, he turned to her and said, “Wow! They’ve got power. I could feel it from the top of my head going through my body right to my toes.”
He follows the priesthood example set by his father and his older brother, Fridrik, who recently served a full-time mission in Birmingham, England. “My brother was the one who taught me how to stick to the rules. He was the one who never gave up.”
This group has the big job of educating their friends about the Church. They have to start with the basics. Johannes said, “My friends ask me questions about the Church. They ask if the Mormon church is Christian.”
Last year, the branch made its first-ever temple trip. Since the closest temple is in England, making a temple trip is a huge undertaking. It’s expensive, and until recently, the temple ceremony was not available in Icelandic.
Hanna describes the experience of being in the temple. “Everybody was so nice and warm. It’s like being in heaven. I wanted to feel that feeling always.”
During the time at the temple, the Icelandic youth spent time each morning and again in the afternoon doing vicarious baptisms. The names were from their own ancestry. Melanie couldn’t help wondering about the people she was being baptized for. “Will they be happy? Will they be thankful for what I’m doing here? Will they accept it? It wasn’t just a name; it was a person who had a life here on earth and a family.”
When they got home, the feeling of close friendship they developed continued. These teens love their country and love the Church. These days sacrament meeting fills their meeting room to overflowing, and they’re glad. The message of the gospel is spreading like a light throughout the land.
Did we mention the northern lights? Every fall and winter, the northern lights dominate the sky in Iceland. In the night sky, the lights sway and dance with colors of green and purple. Sometimes they’re so bright that everyone just has to stop what they’re doing and watch for a while.
The youth in Reykjavik are northern lights, too. They move among their friends and families with confidence and faith. They are setting an example of the best that youth can be. Sometimes you just have to stop for a minute and watch what they are doing. They’re doing great.

But before the end of the year, Alyce’s brother Pete was killed in an automobile accident. Such news travels fast. The seat next to mine in algebra was empty for a whole week, and my heart went out to Alyce. I wanted to write her a note, but I didn’t know what to say. Anyway, I figured Alyce didn’t want to hear from me. The following Monday when Alyce still wasn’t back in school, however, I decided to send her a card. I stopped in Gilbert’s drugs after school and looked for an appropriate sympathy card. Finally I picked out the one I liked best and took it home. I started putting it in the envelope, but before I sealed it, I took the card back out and wrote a few words on it that I thought might be comforting. I knew Alyce had been close to Pete. She had talked about him a few times. Once she had said, “Pete’s not like me. He doesn’t clown around as much. He has a dry sense of humor like you.” Whenever she talked about Pete, I could sense a pride in her voice, a special lilt.
I decided to mail the card that night before I changed my mind. The least I could do was tell her I was sorry and try to comfort her in some small way. Even if she wasn’t too keen on our friendship anymore, it could possibly still help.
That Friday Alyce was back in her seat next to me in algebra. “How are you doing?” I asked quietly as I touched her arm. She looked drained and thinner.
“Okay, I guess. Thanks for the note.” The next minute some of her friends came in, and she called to them and said something funny. They laughed, relieved to have old Alyce back. She looked down at her desk and then over at me again. “Could I talk to you sometime, like maybe after school?”
“Sure.” I wondered what she wanted to talk about.
“I’ll meet you by the oak.”
“Okay.”
She was there after the bell, and we began silently walking to nowhere in particular. “Do you care if we sit down on the grass a minute?” Alyce asked.
“Of course not.”
She didn’t talk but lowered her head; I couldn’t see her face, but then a tear dripped down to the grass. I handed her my hanky. “Let’s go. I don’t want anyone to see me. I wasn’t going to do this.”
We walked around the school until we found an area that was semi-secluded near the bleachers. She had stopped crying and she took my hand. “You know, you’re one of the few people who has treated me like I’m more than just funny. It’s hard to be funny all the time. There’s a lot of pressure.” She began laughing. “Tha’t it?”
“I think I understand,” I said.
“Like right now. I don’t feel much like being funny, but nobody knows how to react to an unfunny Alyce, so I have to joke around.” Her lips began to tremble.
“Go ahead and cry if you need to, Alyce,” I said.
She cried then, and I put my arm around her shoulders and felt helpless as her back jerked with each heavy sob. “I’m sorry,” I kept saying. “I’m sorry.”
“I feel so foolish,” she said.
“No, it’s okay. Don’t feel that way.”
Finally, she got control of herself and bit her lower lip. “I’m not going to cry anymore now.” She swallowed hard and tried to smile. “I suppose you’re wondering why I called this little meeting,” she joked. Then she was serious again. “It’s about something you said on your card, Bill. I memorized it. You said, ‘I have strong faith that Pete still lives.’” She bit her lip again. “I’ve got to know more about that.” She was whispering in spurts. “My family has never been very religious, and I’ve got to know where he is right now.” She was losing control again, and she paused for a moment. “If you believe it, I can believe it too.” She tried to laugh. “Because you’re the most honest person I’ve ever met!” Again she paused and was serious. “And, and I know I can trust you, Bill.”
“I’m glad,” I said softly but emphatically. “Because what I said is true.” This time I sniffed. “Yes, I’d like to tell you more, Alyce.” Now I felt my eyes beginning to well, and now I was the one who felt foolish. “Could I borrow my hanky back for a minute,” I said as ruggedly as possible. “I think I might need it before this little meeting is over.”

My bedroom is like many other teenage boys’ rooms. Yes, there are school books piled up to the ceiling. And yes, there are posters all over the walls. But next to these posters is a picture of the Savior. Now I have been in my room when friends have looked at that picture and asked, “So what does Jesus have to do with all of this?” Of course, I know why that picture is there.
It all stems from a talk Elder Richard G. Scott of the Quorum of the Twelve gave at general conference.
Elder Scott counseled us to do three things: (1) place Christ at the center of your life, (2) realize that happiness comes from what you are, not what you have, and (3) always stay morally clean. These three points, if applied, can form the basis of the strength which we need to be strong in a world such as the one we live in.
The first point, about placing Christ at the center of our lives, is the reason I have that picture of Christ in my bedroom. When I awake in the morning, I look at that picture. Because of my testimony of the Savior I consciously make a decision to honor his name during the day. Of course when I make mistakes, I look at that picture and wonder how I could have let him down.
If we do place the Savior at the center of our lives we certainly will be different to those around us. We will, as the scriptures say, be a “peculiar people” (Deut. 14:2).
Take my name, for example. I love the name Ronan because it’s unusual. But I hope I’m peculiar, not because of my name, but because I’m a representative of Jesus Christ and his gospel. I don’t think many of us are as peculiar as we need to be.
The second suggestion is that we should realize that happiness comes from what we are, not what we have. I am as guilty as anyone of the “I want” syndrome. I know I must try to ignore my peers and seek only to please God. I need to recognize the things I do have: my testimony, my family, and the many other blessings I enjoy.
The third item is to stay morally clean. In a broad sense, this means to be moral, to be righteous, and to be true. Of course, more specifically, it means to obey the laws of chastity. I was once invited to a party which I knew would be morally suspect. At first I rationalized, thinking I would be strong enough to resist whatever temptations might be around me. Fortunately, I decided not to go. I later learned about the alcohol that was consumed and the moral iniquities that took place there. I realized that was not the kind of place for a Latter-day Saint to be. If I had gone to that party, I could in no way have looked at that picture of the Savior in my room and felt at ease.
I’m glad for that picture and I know I’m going to try my best to always place the Savior at the center of my life.

Last June, I was on an assignment to South America. We were on a tight 10-day schedule visiting Colombia, Peru, and Ecuador. An enormous earthquake had killed hundreds, injured tens of thousands, damaged and destroyed homes and communities in the Ecuadorian cities of Portoviejo and Manta. I felt prompted to add to our schedule a visit to members living in those cities. With damage to the roads, we weren’t sure we could get there. In fact, we had been told we could not get there, but the prompting would not go away. Consequently, we were blessed and were able to visit both cities.

With such short notice, I expected that only a few local priesthood leaders would attend the hastily organized gatherings. However, we arrived at each stake center to find the chapels filled all the way back to the stage. Some who attended were the stalwarts of the region, the pioneers who had held fast to the Church, encouraging others to join them in worship and to feel the Spirit in their lives. Sitting on the front rows were the members who had lost loved ones and neighbors in the earthquake. I felt prompted to bestow an apostolic blessing upon all who were in attendance, one of my very first given. Though I was standing at the front of that room, it was as if my hands were on each of their heads, and I felt the words of the Lord pouring forth.

It didn’t end there. I felt prompted to speak to them just as Jesus Christ had done when visiting the people in the Americas. “He took their little children … and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them.” We were in Ecuador, we were about our Father’s business, and these were His children.

Beatrix Potter was born on July 6, 1866, in London. Her parents were strict and had little understanding of children. She had no brothers or sisters until she was six years old. Instead of attending public school, her wealthy parents hired a governess and tutor to teach her. Timid and lonely, Beatrix spent most of her time in the top-floor nursery of her home. Here she created a fantasy world. Rabbits, toads, and frogs were her friends. When her brother, Bertram, was born, he became her playmate.

Beatrix did enjoy the family holidays in Scotland every summer. It was here that her creative ability grew. She loved to see the frogs leaping, rabbits hopping, and little wood mice playing. She would hide in the fields for hours at a time, sitting in tall weeds as she watched and dreamed. The simple cottages where the Scottish families lived appealed to Beatrix. She was amazed at the love and affection Scottish parents showed their children.

Farmers allowed Beatrix to feed their small animals. She gave bread to the ducks, corn to the chickens, lettuce and carrots to the rabbits. It was as though she suddenly lived in a magical world, and Beatrix was spellbound. She and little Bertram sketched everything in sight.

The fantasy world mixed with the real world for Beatrix. In the pictures she drew, rabbits walked upright like humans. They wore clothing and carried umbrellas. Some of the female rabbits wore hats that looked like the girl’s mother’s.

Beatrix enjoyed inventing stories about small animals and drew pictures to illustrate them. She used a paintbrush or pencil like a magic wand. And the many animals that were kept as pets became her models.

While still living at home, Beatrix began sending illustrated letters to Noel, the son of a former governess. He read the letters with such delight that Beatrix decided to make a book. She lengthened the Peter Rabbit story and submitted it to Frederick Warne & Co., a London publisher. Although it was rejected, Miss Potter had faith in her rabbit story. She felt so strongly that children would like it that she had it published privately. The book sold quickly for one shilling and twopence a copy. During the next eighty years, over twenty million copies were sold!

The Tale of Peter Rabbit has been translated into thirteen languages. Sightless children can also enjoy the book in Braille.

After Miss Potter published her own book, she again showed it to Frederick Warne & Co. The editor now saw possibilities in publishing it, and he accepted the Tale of Peter Rabbit. Its success gave Miss Potter encouragement, and in the next eight years she wrote thirteen children’s books. In all, twenty-three were written and published, the last one in 1930. Beatrix Potter’s Peter Rabbit books are enjoyed today just as much as when Noel received his first illustrated letter in 1893.

Brothers and sisters, I did not grow up with these teachings. I didn’t always understand who God was or my relationship with Him. Growing up in Las Vegas, I was surrounded by negative influences. Some of my closest friends and family became involved in drugs, gangs, and criminal activity—some even lost their lives.

Hope was not easy to hold onto—and it was sometimes hard to find. My bedroom became my safe place—a space in which I could escape the chaos around me and reflect on my life. It was the place that led me to know who God was. There was a turning point in my life when one night, feeling confused and discouraged, I opened my heart completely to Him, sharing all my fears and questions with Him.

Suddenly an overwhelming feeling of peace and hope came over me. It was as if I heard Him say, “Jamal, things will be okay. Have hope in me. It will all work out.”

I felt that the darkness that had filled my room and my mind at the time was taken over by a bright light of hope and by the love of God.

That moment changed my life. It was that light of hope that prepared me to choose BYU over all the other universities.

When I arrived at BYU, the light here felt familiar to me, and it continued to get brighter in my life. My hope became greater, and the love of others became deeper and more meaningful. This led me to my baptism into this wonderful Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. And my life has become anchored in Jesus Christ ever since.

Mr. Cooper says that he’s going to be baptized but won’t say when. I hope that it’s before my mission is over two weeks from now. But even though I’d like to be with him then, the important thing is that he get baptized when he’s ready.
Great news! Frank Cooper was baptized yesterday! And last night he gave a party to celebrate and invited a lot of his friends and the members of the ward. He said that it was also a farewell party for me. At the party, we made an appointment to visit one of his nonmember friends. I wish that I could go to that appointment with Elder Butler, but I’ll be home by then.