Gospel Story Finder

When I was young, my grandfather Martin taught me that in the latter days, temples would literally dot the earth. At the time my grandfather expressed this thought to me, I could hardly imagine it. But I was raised with this knowledge and feeling in my heart. Recently I looked on the Church’s Web site under “temples,” and I could plainly see that temples, designated by red dots, are starting to spread over much of the earth.

Liz: When I was growing up, the closest Church member my age lived an hour and a half away, so there were no other members at school. But something I really appreciated was that even though there was just me, my leaders always came to Mutual; they always came to seminary; they always came to teach my lesson—every single time. They never said, “Well, we’ve got just one student so we’re not going to have class today.” I’m sure I learned a lot, but what I really remember is that my leaders were consistent. And because of them, I had opportunities to feel the Spirit.
I think we can never fully appreciate the gift of the Holy Ghost. Even though I had my parents and my family and my leaders, when I was at school I was by myself. But the Spirit was with me. So whatever keeps the Spirit in someone’s life will be a great influence in helping that person keep the law of chastity.

History provides us a vivid example of the importance of the Lord’s servants being in tune with the Spirit. The young Prophet Joseph Smith could not translate when he was angry or upset.

David Whitmer recalled: “One morning when he was getting ready to continue the translation, something went wrong about the house and he was put out about it. Something that Emma, his wife, had done. Oliver and I went up stairs, and Joseph came up soon after to continue the translation, but he could not do anything. He could not translate a single syllable. He went down stairs, out into the orchard and made supplication to the Lord; was gone about an hour—came back to the house, asked Emma’s forgiveness and then came up stairs where we were and the translation went on all right. He could do nothing save he was humble and faithful.”

Trisha watched as Mommy taped the family job chart on the refrigerator. “Everyone’s name is on the chart,” Mommy told her. “Here is your name, Trisha. It’s the one with the smiling-face sticker next to it.”
Trisha was three years old. It made her feel very grown-up to have her name on the family job chart. She watched as Mommy wrote down assignments for her older brother and sister. Then she came to the name with the smiling face sticker by it.
“Now, Trisha, you have a special job,” Mommy said. “You get to be the Dust Bunny.”
Trisha had never heard of a Dust Bunny before, but she watched excitedly as Mommy got out one of Daddy’s old white socks. It had been made into a bunny!
“Each morning you can put on this Dust Bunny mitt and dust the living room like this.” She showed Trisha how to carefully dust the piano keys, the tops of the end tables, and the TV.
“Now, you try it,” Mommy said as she handed the Dust Bunny mitt to Trisha. The inside of the sock felt fuzzy and warm when Trisha put it on. She carefully dusted the piano keys, the tops of the end tables, and the TV.
“Super job, Dust Bunny!” Mommy declared. Then she gave Trisha a big squeeze. Trisha felt good inside.
That night when Daddy came home from work, she said, “Guess who came today.”
“Grandpa and Grandma?” Daddy guessed as he scooped her up into his arms and gave Mommy a kiss.
“No.”
“Santa Claus?” Daddy guessed.
Trisha giggled, “No, Daddy, that’s silly! It isn’t even Christmas.”
“Well then, who?” Daddy asked.
“The Dust Bunny!” Trisha said with a big smile.
“Who is the Dust Bunny? Is she related to Bunny Rabbit?” Daddy asked.
“No,” Trisha said with a laugh. Then she ran and got the mitt and put it on. “I’m the Dust Bunny!”
Daddy watched as Trisha showed him how she dusted the piano keys, the tops of the end tables, and the TV. It looked like so much fun that Daddy had to try it, too!

One of David’s favorite priesthood responsibilities is home teaching families in his ward. Home teaching taught him that service in all forms is appreciated. For example, when he was first ordained, he and his dad were assigned to visit an elderly couple. “They just enjoyed the company,” he says, “and I enjoyed doing little things to help them out. It’s nice to get out and do something for someone else.”

There is the story of two neighboring farmers—one a habitual Sabbath breaker, and the other a faithful observer of the Lord’s day. On one occasion the Sabbath observer severely chastised his neighbor for working his farm on Sundays rather than attending to his religious devotions. This led to an argument and a challenge. “Let us put the matter to a test,” the Sabbath breaker said. “We will select two pieces of ground of equal size and fertility. On them we will plant the same crop. My piece of ground I will work on Sundays, and you will work yours on the other days of the week. Then we will see who gets the greater harvest.”

The challenge was accepted and the conditions were faithfully observed. As the harvest was gathered in, the Sabbath-observing farmer was disappointed to learn that the piece of ground farmed by his neighbor had produced the greater yield. The Sabbath breaker exulted in his apparent triumph and his discrediting of the contention of his faithful neighbor.

“You have forgotten one important thing,” protested the Sabbath observer. “The Lord doesn’t always settle his accounts in October.”

Our family had an experience that reinforced this while on a hiking vacation to one of our favorite national parks known as Yosemite.

Yosemite’s home is the Sierra Nevada mountain range; a geologic wonder that provided the minerals that would give birth to the great California gold rush. "There was gold," as the prospector’s would say, “in them thar’ hills,” and in the rivers too.

At the time of this vacation our kids ranged from our youngest, Michael, about age eight to our oldest, Matthew, about twenty-one at the time.

Just before we took our hike, we made a visit to the gift shop at the park. Aaron, our eighteen-year-old at the time, found some “Fool's Gold" for sale. "Fool's Gold" or “Iron Pyrite” is a common mineral found in the Sierra Nevada so named for its shiny appearance. It’s actually nearly worthless.

So, Aaron devised a practical joke to salt some fool's gold at a shallow river crossing on our hiking path, and trick his innocent eight-year-old brother into thinking he’d discovered an amazing gold deposit.

So, Aaron hiked ahead to a shallow stream crossing to do his dirty work. When the rest of us arrived at the crossing, Aaron encouraged Michael to search the stream bed to see if the gold stories were true. Sure enough, Michael (with some help from Aaron) found his Gold and was thrilled with his new riches…that is, until I told him the truth….

I felt really bad as I watched Michael’s excitement crash to his feet. Although the sting of disappointment was soon over, I doubt Michael will ever trust the announcement of a gold strike again…at least by Aaron.

That day, Michael learned, as most of us do, not all “gold” is genuine - so it is with people who carry the title of leader. Some are gifted and genuine "gold” leaders. But many in our world, unfortunately, are not able to meet the “gold standard” described by President McKay - so the scripture says: “many are called, but few are chosen.”

Alfred Nobel held his breath as a workman delicately lifted the glass bottle of nitroglycerin from its packing crate of wood shavings soaked in water. It was a cool morning, and he had to work fast before heat from the sun caused the temperature to rise above eighty degrees Fahrenheit.
The workman gently carried the bottle by the tips of his fingers. He could not clutch it in his hands because even his body heat would raise the temperature above the danger level. Nitroglycerin was the most powerful explosive known in 1860, and one bottle could destroy anything or anyone within a radius of one hundred feet.
Alfred Nobel was a Swedish chemist and engineer who traveled to the United States as a young man. What he saw there convinced him of the need for a safe and dependable explosive in that vast country that needed a great deal of work done—bridges built, tunnels cut, canals dug. Why, plans were already being made for one of the greatest construction projects of all time—a transcontinental railway system to connect California with the eastern states! To make that possible, a way would have to be carved through the great Rocky Mountains by the daily toil of human muscle power so that tracks could be laid. There must be a better way, Alfred decided.
Returning to Sweden, the young scientist eventually perfected nitroglycerin. He believed that a single explosion of nitroglycerin could do work that required days if men just dug with picks and shovels.
He went out on construction sites to make sure that the workmen handled the new explosive properly. On most occasions they did, but some were not as careful as they should have been. Each year a score of men were killed because they failed to follow the directions that Alfred Nobel, who manufactured the explosive, packed with each shipment.
As time went on, increasing numbers of workmen failed to handle it as directed. One man greased the axle of his wagon with it. Others threw unused amounts of it into the fire. Some simply did not understand nitroglycerin’s great power and stood too close when it exploded.
Soon people began pointing a finger at Nobel, blaming him for the deaths of careless workers. And in 1864 Nobel’s own factory exploded, killing his brother. Immediately production was suspended until Nobel had a floating laboratory built in the middle of a lake to prevent any unintentional explosion from injuring anyone but himself. Some substance that could be safely substituted for nitroglycerin had to be found.
In 1867, after nearly four years of experimentation, Nobel solved the problem. When nitroglycerin was absorbed by sticks of compressed diatomaceous earth (a porous material made of the skeletons of tiny one-celled sea animals), the result was a safe, dependable explosive.
He tested the sticks and was delighted to see that the explosive force remained but that the sticks were practically impossible to set off unintentionally. He called the new invention dynamite, from a Greek word meaning abundant power.
Nobel could hardly wait for his discovery to be put to use. It was safe, and it would save lives. Soon dynamite was being shipped all over the world.
In the United States the West was largely tamed by railroads that required large amounts of dynamite to clear the way for solid railbeds. Bridges, foundations for buildings, tunnels, mines, canals, and dams were all constructed with the help of this new and safer explosive.
But Nobel’s jubilation turned to horror when he learned that the new explosive was also being used by nations at war. He was heartsick. People began to think of him as a mad scientist who made his fortune by manufacturing death for warring nations. Newspapers called him a murderer.
Nobel became a millionaire, then a multimillionaire. But he was not seeking money, and above all else he dreaded to be remembered as a merchant of destruction.
Will my name be forever connected with death and war? he wondered.
In 1896 a saddened Nobel prepared a handwritten will that provided for the awarding of large cash prizes to humanitarians who worked toward peace and to people who made outstanding contributions in the fields of physics, chemistry, physiology or medicine, and literature. In 1969 an additional prize was established in the field of economic science.
Today, the world listens when the winners of the Nobel prizes are announced. It is a great honor for one who, as Nobel stated in his will, “during the preceding year, shall have conferred the greatest benefit on mankind.”
Some Nobel prizewinners have been: Wilhelm Roentgen in 1901 for the discovery of X rays; Theodore Roosevelt in 1906, the peace prize; Albert Schweitzer in 1952, the peace prize; Sir Winston Churchill in 1953 for literature; John Enders, Thomas Weller, and Frederick Robbins in 1954 for developing tissue culture for polio viruses; John Bardeen for his work with transistors. Marie Curie, who was awarded Nobel prizes in both physics and chemistry, was the first person to receive honors in more than one field.
Today few people remember Nobel as the inventor of dynamite. Instead, they eagerly await the announcement of Nobel prizewinners, especially the one for peace.

In one area encompassing several stakes, quorum leaders and home teachers visited more than 500 homes of inactive members, most of whom had earlier refused an invitation to attend a temple preparation seminar. “Could these good home teachers come to your home once a week to teach you the gospel?” the leaders asked. “We won’t pressure you or ask you to do anything. We’ll just explain the principles of the gospel, and you and your family can make your own decisions.”

The answer? In 80 percent of the homes, the family accepted the proposal. That’s 400 families who were now receiving the benefits of the missionary-work aspect of home teaching! And the success stories have been numerous:
One inactive elder’s business took him out of town six nights a week. He was usually home only on Saturday night and during the day on Sunday. Yet when he was approached to see if he would accept weekly teaching in his home, he accepted. After the first Saturday-night lesson, he decided to attend church the next day. He now serves in his elders quorum presidency.
In another family the father was an alcoholic. He accepted the home teachers into his home on a weekly basis, and gradually his wife and children became active. Even though the man is still a prospective elder, he’s made great strides. And his oldest son, who was reactivated through the teaching, is now a full-time missionary!
One young couple acknowledged that they should go to the temple, but they weren’t yet willing to attend the temple preparation seminars. They did allow their home teachers to come by weekly to teach them, however. Now the young man says, “I wasn’t rebellious. But I didn’t quite understand the gospel.” At one point he commented to his home teachers: “I know you have families and are busy. We appreciate your coming. We need your teaching.”
A common thread runs through these successes, as well as the hundreds (perhaps thousands) of others that could be shared. The basic idea is that we don’t teach the family everything we’d like them to hear; rather, we start by teaching them what they’re ready and able to hear.
The distinction is a critical one. If we teach beyond a family’s capacity to hear and accept, we might well create a negative situation. The family may become defensive, tune us out, or ask us to stop teaching. The message doesn’t get through, the Spirit has no opportunity to testify to the hearts of the people, and the opportunity is lost.
Here are the basic steps to making home teaching work when approaching inactive members:
1. Pray for the Spirit in preparing and delivering your lesson. No other single factor is as important as having the Spirit testify to those you teach. It is “by the power of the Holy Ghost” that we “may know the truth of all things.” (Moro. 10:5.)
2. Make sure the family knows you’re going to use a no-pressure teaching approach. When you initially approach the family at the door to see if they’ll let you teach them, tell them your teaching won’t involve any pressure. Later, you may be moved by the Spirit to challenge them to make some commitments, but that will be later—if and when the time is right, and when the Spirit inspires you to do so. For now, they need to be assured that they won’t be subjected to high-pressure tactics. The door approach might go something like this:
“Brother Brown, we’ve come tonight with an idea we think you might be interested in. My companion and I would like to come to your home on a weekly basis to teach you more about the gospel. Our teaching approach doesn’t involve any pressure or expectations. We’ll just tell you about the principles of the gospel, and then you can decide for yourselves what you’ll do with them.”
One quorum leader says he’s almost never been turned down when he uses that approach. “First, I make sure that I talk to both the husband and wife,” he says. “If both aren’t there, I don’t even bring it up, but tell the one who’s home that I’ll visit again later.
“Second, I avoid giving them an easy way to say no. I once visited a man who had requested no home teachers. I asked him if home teachers could come by each week to teach his family. Before I was even finished with my sentence, I could tell he was going to say no. So I didn’t ask for an answer. I just said, ‘Why don’t you think this over, and I’ll be back next week.’
“The next week when I returned—I think he was surprised to see me. I told him a little bit about the first lesson. But again I could tell he was going to turn me down. So I didn’t give him a chance. I told him to think about it some more, and I’d be back a week later.
“The next week the same thing happened. I was beginning to think I’d never make any progress. But the following week he didn’t wait for me to come. He called me!
“After we started teaching him, his wife came up to me with tears in her eyes. ‘This is the first time I’ve ever seen Mac interested in the Church,’ she said.”
3. The next step in home teaching inactive members is to avoid the “recognition and attack” method of teaching. If you recognize that a family has a particular problem with gospel living, don’t attack that problem. Avoid it for the time being. Most people already know what they’re doing wrong. The home teacher can strengthen them by not attacking their practices, but instead concentrating on other areas and letting the Spirit witness to them.
For example, one prospective elder refused to come to church because he smoked. “I didn’t feel the Church was that important,” he says. But he and his wife decided to let their home teachers come by every week to teach them. There was no mention of smoking until the husband himself brought up the subject several weeks later. After three months they attended the temple preparation seminar, and now they attend church every week. He still struggles with his smoking, but he’s accepted a call to be a home teacher. He now understands that “the Church is ‘for the perfecting of the Saints’ (Eph. 4:12)” and “not a well-provisioned rest home for the already perfected.” (Elder Neal A. Maxwell, General Conference, April, 1982.)
4. Avoid question-form teaching. Many inactive members are uncomfortable answering gospel questions. Instead, the teacher can present the material in a lecture mode (a lot of visual aids will enliven the lesson), while encouraging the family to ask as many questions as they like.
5. Always let the father preside in the home. He has the authority in his home to select who should say the opening and closing prayers. When he’s ready to pray, he’ll offer the prayer himself. Until he does, the home teachers should let him exercise his authority to call on other people.
6. Never teach beyond a family’s willingness to receive. A teacher who is sensitive to the Spirit, as well as to the needs of the family he’s teaching, can tell when a family is responding negatively to the message. One thing that will help is to stick to the basics. Some home teachers have found that it helps to start with a few foundational lessons, such as the plan of salvation, the atonement of Jesus Christ, how revelation comes, the laws God gives and the blessings that come with obedience, the apostasy and restoration of the gospel, and the Book of Mormon. Many basic lesson materials may be found in the temple preparation seminar lesson manual, the Gospel Principles manual, and the Gospel Essentials class manual.
7. Don’t try to push the family into commitments. Joseph Smith said, “I teach them correct principles and let them govern themselves.” Home teachers can take the same approach with their inactive families by simply teaching and testifying. Later, as the family grows and progresses, the home teacher may be prompted by the Holy Ghost to suggest that they set some goals—but the nature of those goals should usually be left to the family to decide.
A prospective elder in Utah was afraid to go to church because he didn’t want to be called on to pray or answer questions. After two months of being taught the gospel in their home, he and his wife accepted an invitation to attend the temple preparation seminar. Shortly afterward, they made church attendance their goal, despite the man’s fears. It was their decision, arising out of their progress in learning the gospel. He’s now been ordained an elder, and he and his wife have been sealed in the temple.
8. Follow the Lord’s counsel to his servants as found in Doctrine and Covenants 4:6 [D&C 4:6]. “Remember faith, virtue, knowledge, temperance, patience, brotherly kindness, godliness, charity, humility, diligence.”
The home teacher who follows these guidelines will find himself more concerned with the needs of the family than with statistics or other such concerns. He’ll be tolerant of a slow rate of change. He’ll be willing to become involved in a labor of love and sacrifice, recognizing that impatience and quick commitment won’t bring the lasting results he seeks.
9. Finally, remember that more important than any material the home teacher presents is the feeling the family has when he’s there. Rapport is more important than information.
One couple who were having marital problems agreed to let their home teachers come by to teach every week. As the teachers came week after week, gradually the husband and wife were able to become more and more reconciled. The wife explained later, “When the home teachers are here, my husband is the neatest man in the world. I hope they can keep coming for the next forty years!”
The beauty of home teaching in this way is that it meets the family right at the point where they’re living. One man wanted to hear nothing at all about the beliefs of the Church, having been deeply hurt by another Church member years before. “They’re all hypocrites,” he said.
The quorum leader who was visiting neither agreed nor disagreed. Instead, he said, “I’ve seen some things in my life that weren’t fair and equitable too. It’s too bad things are like that sometimes.”
The man was surprised at the leader’s response. He invited the visitors into his home to talk about it.
“We listened with real intent until he had exhausted his bitterness,” the leader said. “Then we talked about the Savior’s all-encompassing love and forgiveness, being careful not to refer to specific Church members’ actions. We explained that he had a great opportunity to develop the capacity to forgive. When we prepared to leave, we asked if we could come again and discuss the gospel. He told us we were welcome to come to his home any time.”
The home teachers have since visited that home many times, and have witnessed a complete change of attitude in the man.
Not all instances of home teachers doing missionary work among inactive members have ended in dramatic success. But the remarkable thing is that teaching opportunities seldom just end: once families agree to enter the teaching process, they almost never choose to discontinue it, and whether they become active or not, they will make advancements in their lives.
Effective home teachers can make a difference in people’s lives. By teaching a person and his family the gospel, the family will gain more “divine data” on which to base life’s decisions. The teaching process can bring the Spirit of God into the hearts and homes of those involved. And the family will feel more loved and accepted than they ever have before.
Furthermore, the teaching can have tremendous impact on the home teachers as well. “There may be problems and trials,” said one home teacher. “But if you hang in there and let the family know you’re going to stick with them, they’ll progress. To home teach your families effectively takes time and effort. But when you get in and get committed to it, you can really see that Spirit directing the work. I’m not exaggerating when I say my work as a home teacher has literally changed my life. I’m becoming the kind of person I’d always hoped I could be.”

A few years ago my brother gave me some of the mission statements that his brothers in the Hanford California Third Branch had written. Here are a few lines from those statements:
I want to lift the hands that hang down and strengthen the feeble knees.
Is anything too hard for the Lord?
I will always say, “Here am I, Lord, send me!”
At first glance, nothing seems unusual about these statements. The men of the Hanford Third Branch, however, are those who hold their services in the California state prison at Avenal. Every week, and sometimes multiple times a week, President Ralph Morrill would faithfully visit the brethren of the Hanford Third Branch. Most of society consider these men to be without hope, but not President Morrill. He inspired these men to write mission statements and to have hope for the future. He visited my brother, David, in what would be his darkest hour—the day David learned that his meek and gentle teenage son had lost his life in a senseless act of violence.
Because of President Morrill’s service, my brother, David, has transformed his life. Since David was released from prison almost three years ago, he has helped bring many of his friends to the gospel of Jesus Christ. He has earned four semesters of 4.0 grades and will graduate from the local community college this spring. I will be there to celebrate his graduation, and so will President Morrill.
President Morrill has invited many men of the Hanford Third Branch to devote their lives to preparing to enter the house of the Lord, where “the power of godliness is manifest.”

There was an architect in that first company, William Weeks, who had designed the Nauvoo Temple. But the hopeless desolation was too much for him. When President Young went east in 1848, Brother Weeks left, saying, “They will never build the temple without me.”

Truman O. Angell, a carpenter, was appointed to replace him. He said: “If the President and my brethren feel to sustain a poor worm of the dust like me to be Architect of the Church, let me … serve them and not disgrace myself. … May the Lord help me so to do.”

“Is it music-class day?” three-year-old Dallin asked, running into the kitchen for breakfast.
“It sure is!” Mommy said. She stooped to put Baby Breeana in her high chair as Dallin poured a bowl of cereal, all by himself. “The ladies will be happy to see you.”
“Today I want to sing ‘I’m Trying to Be like Jesus’* for them, Mommy. I think they will like that.”
Later, in the backseat of the car, to practice, Dallin sang for Baby Breeana. “‘I’m trying to be like Jesus.’” He paused. “Mommy, the ladies are like grandmas, aren’t they? I bet they miss their families.”
“I think you’re right, Dallin. That’s why they enjoy your visits every week. Look.” Mommy pointed out the window as she pulled into a parking space and turned off the car. “There’s Jaren and his mommy.”
“I see them. Hurry, Mommy! The ladies are waiting!”
As soon as they entered the building, Dallin and Jaren found the ladies. “Hi,” Dallin called, running up to a lady with gray hair and a purple sweatshirt.
“Why, hello, young man,” the lady said. “You are growing up so fast!”
Dallin reached out his hand, and the lady held it for a long time. Her hand was as soft as Baby Breeana’s, and she had bright pink fingernails. “I’m going to sing my favorite song for you today,” Dallin told her.
The lady slowly stood up. Holding on to her walker, she started toward the music room. Dallin walked next to her, even though he wished she would hurry. He knew the ladies needed to walk slowly.
When they reached the music room, Dallin waved to all the ladies already there. He ran to sit in the circle with Mommy. Many of his friends from nursery class were sitting in the circle, too. They sang a welcome song, and the ladies laughed and smiled. Then it was time for instruments—Dallin’s favorite time. He carefully chose a drum from the box.
“Hey, Dallin,” his friend Sydney said as she reached into the box. “Don’t forget to take instruments to the ladies.”
“OK.” Dallin grabbed a jar full of beans and skipped with it to the lady in the purple sweatshirt. The beans made crackling noises as he bounced up and down. “Here you go,” he told her. “You just have to shake it like this.”
The lady slowly reached for the instrument. “Thank you.”
Back in the circle, Dallin pounded on his drum to the music. The ladies smiled and nodded their heads with the beat. Dallin watched the mommy who was leading the song. Soon she would bring out the small singing platform, and it would be his turn to sing for the ladies all by himself.
“Hurrah! Good job everyone!” the mommy said. She carried the wood platform to the middle of the room and pointed a finger at Jaren. “Jaren, would you like to go first?”
Dallin wished he could be first, but he sat down and listened politely while Jaren sang. Everybody clapped.
“Now, Dallin, how about you?” the mommy asked. “Do you have a song to sing for us next?”
Dallin grinned and jumped to his feet. Climbing onto the platform, he turned so he could see all of the ladies. “I’m going to sing ‘I’m Trying to Be like Jesus,’” he announced. As he sang, he kept turning to look at each person. The lady in the purple sweatshirt waved to him, and the other ladies leaned forward and smiled.
I’m helping them be happy, Dallin thought as he finished the song and everybody clapped. That’s a good way to be like Jesus.

Like all good parents, my own parents desired a bright future for their children. My father was not a member, and because of unusual circumstances that existed at that time, my parents determined that my brothers and sisters and I should leave our island home of American Samoa, in the South Pacific, and travel to the United States in order to go to school.
The decision to be separated from us was a difficult one for my parents, especially my mother. They knew that there would be unknown challenges as we were put into new surroundings. However, with faith and determination, they pressed forward with their plan.
Because of her Latter-day Saint upbringing, my mother was familiar with the principles of fasting and prayer, and both of my parents felt that they needed the blessings of heaven to help their children. In that spirit they began to set aside a day every week to fast and pray for us. Their vision was to prepare their children for a bright future. They acted on this vision as they exercised their faith by seeking the Lord’s blessings. Through fasting and prayer, they received the assurance, comfort, and peace that all would be well.
I know that as we gain a vision of ourselves as the Savior sees us and as we act on that vision, our lives will be blessed in unexpected ways. Because of the vision of my parents, not only was my life blessed by educational experiences, but I was placed in circumstances where I found and embraced the gospel. More important, I learned the significance of good and faithful parents. Simply put, my life was changed forever.
Just as vision led my parents to fast and pray for their children’s welfare and as the early Apostles’ vision led them to follow the Savior, that same vision is available to inspire and help us to act. Brothers and sisters, we are a people with a history of vision and the faith and courage to do. Look at where we have come and the blessings we have received! Believe that He can bless you with vision in your life and the courage to act.

One night Moisés came home late from Papá’s shop. Mamá was sitting at the table. She looked worried.
“Is everything OK?” Moisés asked.
Mamá sighed. “Yes, we will be all right.” She gave Moisés a tired smile. “Money is tight this month. I’m worried that we can’t afford to pay tithing.”
Moisés remembered what the missionaries taught them about tithing. They said it was giving 10 percent of your money to God to help do His work.
Mamá put some pesos in an envelope and sealed it closed. “This is sacred money,” she said. “We need to pay our tithing.”
Moisés thought about the pesos he had earned at the car shop. He pulled them out of his pocket. “Can I pay my tithing too?”
Mamá smiled. “Of course you can.”
After that Moisés always paid his tithing. Sometimes it was hard. But Moisés had faith. He was a pioneer! He kept paying his tithing, and his family always had enough. Moisés was grateful for the ways Heavenly Father blessed him for being obedient.

There are 1,200 students at Memorial High in Joplin, Missouri, and not one of them can match Ralph Green when it comes to making pizza.

Last year Ralph worked at a local pizza parlor to support his older sister through a semester at Brigham Young University.

This year, at 16, he is the only male enrolled in his school’s family foods and clothing construction classes. He has found the experience to be a good missionary tool in more ways than one. In the school paper he explained, “I am taking these courses because I want to learn to cook and sew. I want to learn because I am going on a two-year mission for my church.” The student paper went on to explain that at 19 Ralph plans to serve a mission wherever the Church sends him, and he wants to be able to fend for himself.

Although he cooks more pizza than anything else, fried chicken is his favorite dish. He’s been kidded a lot, but Ralph plans to take another sewing class next year.

Ralph is a member of the Springfield Missouri Stake.

I distinctly remember trying to fall asleep on the top bunk in our studio apartment at the end of my first day with my new companion. She was a new missionary—a fireball for sure—and I was her terrified, inexperienced trainer.
I was still a new missionary myself, and to say that I felt overwhelmed was an understatement. The task of navigating the downtown streets of our inner-city area on public transportation felt massive to me. The pressure to build our teaching pool and develop relationships with the members seemed overwhelming. And even though I did my best to make good decisions, my new companion and I often disagreed, and we struggled to get along. It seemed like we were polar opposites, and I became discouraged.
I wanted so badly to just be a good missionary. But things were not going the way I had imagined they would, and I was frustrated.
In the mornings when my companion was in the shower, I spent my alone time kneeling at the folding chair by my desk. One morning as I prayed, I pridefully expressed to Heavenly Father that I couldn’t help but feel that my companion was holding me back from being the missionary I wanted to be.
Then came the humbling epiphany I wasn’t expecting: My companion was not holding me back from being the missionary God wanted me to be. In actuality, being her companion was helping me become the missionary He wanted me to be.
The imperfections and challenges I was facing, though frustrating, were not holding me back. They were helping me to change and grow and progress—not in the way I wanted for myself, but in the way God wanted for me.

Let us cite only a few of the numerous cases that have come to my personal attention recently. A few months ago a mother of five children came to my office. She wept bitterly as she told me that her husband had spent most of his time during the past year with another man’s wife. She explained that on a number of occasions she followed him in her car to the other woman’s place. Naturally, the sinful husband was miserable, the wife was very sorrowful, and the children were brokenhearted. “… wickedness never was happiness.” (Alma 41:10.)

One of them was Walt’s girlfriend, Liz. She was an attractive, cheerful Mormon girl whom I used to tease unmercifully. Liz was the perfect lady, and as we got to know each other better, her good influence began to change me. I stopped swearing. I started opening doors for girls. And, most important of all, I became interested in the Church.
It wasn’t easy for me, a Catholic, to consider changing my religion, but good friends like Walt and Liz made it easier for me to investigate the Church. Liz encouraged me to seek out the truth and to do what was right. And when I had gained a testimony, she and Walt gave me the strength and courage I needed to go through with my decision to get baptized.

I’m the only Latter-day Saint in the family, so it gets kind of lonesome sometimes. I never believed there was a God. I wouldn’t go to church or read the Bible, but when I met two missionaries through a friend of mine, I wanted to hear and learn more and become a part of this wonderful church. The greatest day of my life was the day of my baptism. It was so beautiful that I couldn’t understand why I had ever been scared about being baptized. It was so fantastic that I cried. I am sure that I have taken a step that I will never regret. I really do enjoy receiving the New Era. It’s a fantastic book. Every time it arrives, my mother says that it really makes her day.
Sue E. HaydenLondon, England

President Benson lived on a farm in Whitney, Idaho, when he was a child. There were chickens, milking cows, beef cattle, and horses. There were also neighbors. Ezra’s mother taught him to greet people with a polite “How do you do?” One afternoon while the family was seated at the dinner table, little Ezra noticed the bowl of boiled eggs and said courteously, “How do you do, eggs?” Everyone laughed, and it was a family joke that was retold for years.