Gospel Story Finder

While I was growing up, attending institute wasn’t necessarily a goal for me. Although Elder L. Tom Perry (1922–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles compared institute to “a shield of protection around you to keep you free from the temptations and trials of the world,”1 I thought that once I attended seminary, that was it! I thought I had learned all I could. My seed of faith was planted, and I was ready to grow. I thought I had all the gospel knowledge I needed to take on the world.
But soon I found all the temptations of the world were staring back at me. For me, the transition into young adulthood was not easy. Seminary had given me the spiritual tools I needed, but I didn’t know how to use them.
My first few years as a young adult were spent between my home in New Zealand and the United States. I had a scholarship to a college in Massachusetts and, as a student athlete, I found that my time and focus were never directed toward church. Near the end of my studies, I had not gone to church or done anything related to the gospel in over two years.
I had unknowingly made myself vulnerable in my spiritual fight against the world.
And the world was winning.
But things changed when I came home to New Zealand to finish my last few years of study. I started dwelling on my guilt and shame about neglecting my spirituality. And after being away from the gospel for so long, I had questions and assumptions about the Church that were consuming my small seed of faith.
As I walked around my university with my head down, I came across the institute building. With a heart heavy and full of questions and a crumb of faith left, I convinced myself to go in. I was skeptical of the gospel and was reluctant to indulge in anything Church related, but I enrolled in a class thinking that it could help me find some guidance.
That one class started me on a path that changed my life. And from it, I learned four valuable lessons.
One of the biggest questions I had when I started the class was “Does God still love me?” I was so conflicted about the choices I had made when I had gone away to school. I felt like I had reached a point of no return. But as I continued to attend institute each week, there was always one message in every lesson that stuck with me: “God’s love knows no bounds.”
We may make mistakes, but the gentle reminder from my teacher that our Heavenly Father loves us perfectly was one of my biggest takeaways coming out of each institute class my first semester. I realized that no matter how much we think otherwise, He loves us and wants to guide us.
I had so many questions about the Church growing up, but I never felt like I could voice them out of fear of being judged. And as a young adult, I had even more questions.
When I began attending institute, I was focused more on my unanswered questions than on my faith and the truths I did know. And when the COVID-19 pandemic hit and stress and anxiety consumed me, I struggled to feel the Spirit. Hoping to feel something, I decided to kneel and say a prayer for the first time in months. Before I said a word, tears filled my eyes as I was enveloped in a strong feeling of love. I pleaded with the Lord to answer all my questions, lighten my burden, and bring me peace.
Soon after that prayer, my institute teacher sat with a classmate and me and asked us what young adults need, as he was hoping to create classes that would address the most common struggles and questions. It was comforting to know how much he wanted to help, and I opened up about how I had been feeling. As we talked through the afternoon about our needs as young adults in the Church, I found an answer to my prayer in my classmate’s words.
I realized that I wasn’t the only one with questions and that they weren’t anything to be ashamed of, like I had previously thought.
I felt spiritually uplifted after that conversation, and I was confident for the first time that Heavenly Father cared about my questions and that He would help me find answers in time.
Young adults in the Church are on different paths and have different outlooks, and it can be hard for us to find common ground with one another. But the one thing that we do have in common is the gospel.
With my growing involvement in institute, it was amazing to hear from young adults with so many unique experiences finding their spiritual footing in their fight against the adversary.
The isolation I had been feeling started chipping away when I was at institute. Through constant fellowship and conversations about the gospel, I built friendships, and the influence of these friendships blessed and inspired me to keep building my faith.
As a youth, I went to church because my parents wanted me to. My testimony of the gospel was only a shadow of theirs. But as I continued to grow and seek truth at institute, I learned to stand on my own testimony instead of hiding behind my parents’ testimonies. The seed of faith I had planted years ago started to sprout rapidly since my institute classes provided it with the soil and nutrients it needed to flourish.
Ultimately, institute has played a great role in my conversion to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Institute continues to help me grow my faith and has provided a safe haven for me to ask difficult questions. Although I have been a member all my life, it wasn’t until I attended institute and learned to apply gospel principles in my life that my testimony became sincere and, more importantly, mine.
Participating in institute provides opportunities for numerous blessings for young adults. President Thomas S. Monson (1927–2018) promised, “As you participate in institute and study the scriptures diligently, your power to avoid temptation and to receive direction of the Holy Ghost in all you do will be increased.”2
I reiterate and emphasize these promised blessings of institute from our past beloved prophet. My constant battle in trying to keep up with the changes of young adulthood became easier when my testimony of the gospel became stronger. Participating in institute helped me develop my testimony, which truly became my shield in avoiding the temptations of the world, and through the constant scripture study alongside my fellow young single adults, I saw how institute is truly a divinely inspired program from our Heavenly Father.

One Sunday, right in the middle of the branch sacrament meeting, a woman walked in the door from off the street. She was a homeless woman who was wearing dirty, ragged clothes, coughing, choking, and blowing her nose into a filthy handkerchief. In a loud, hoarse voice she said, “I want to sing! I want to pray!” and walked right to the front row and sat down next to a member who was wearing a white blouse, leaned against her, and laid her head on her shoulder. The member immediately put her arms around this guest and held her in her arms throughout the rest of the meeting.
It happened that the speaker had been talking about the parable of the good Samaritan (see Luke 10:30–37) as the woman had come in. As this woman coughed and choked, the speaker continued telling the parable. As he came to the end of his talk and was quoting a relevant scripture, suddenly, in a loud voice, this homeless woman finished giving the verse that the speaker had begun. In talking of this after sacrament meeting with the speaker, we thought it had probably been a long time since someone had affectionately put an arm around our visitor. We wondered what better illustration you could have of the parable of the good Samaritan than what we had just seen, and we were reminded of the Savior’s words that preceded His telling of that parable, “Thou shalt love … thy neighbour as thyself” (Luke 10:27).

When I was six years old, my family went on a trip to a river. The water was very cold because it came from the mountains in Chile. After playing in the river for a while, I wanted to warm up.
The sun was shining on some nearby rocks. So I put my back against one rock and my feet on the other to sunbathe.
The rocks were covered in slippery moss that made me slowly slide down. It happened so slowly that I didn’t realize I was slipping.
But then I got stuck! My knees were pressed against my chest. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. And I was still slipping! Every second my knees were pushing harder against my chest. My eyes were looking at the sky, and all the light was fading.
Then I saw the face of my brother. He took my hand and pulled me up. I wasn’t stuck anymore! I could breathe and see the light again.

Jody had five older brothers and sisters. When Jody was little, being the youngest was fun because she got special attention. But now that Jody was getting bigger, being the youngest sometimes meant being overlooked.
For example, today when Jody came home from school she had lots of exciting things to tell her mother, but Mom was busy in the garage helping Jody’s brother Derek repair his bike. Later, before dinner, Jody’s oldest sister, Lisa, was in the kitchen with Mom. Lisa was helping fix dinner, chatting endlessly about boys. After dinner, Jody’s sister Amber needed help with her math homework. Then it was time for family prayer, and Jody was off to bed.
On days like these, Jody was grateful she had her secret journal friend. That night she wrote:
Dear Secret Journal Friend,
I wish I could spend more time with Mom. She is always busy with the family, but I wanted to tell her about school today. I got 100 percent on my spelling test, we did gymnastics in P.E., and in art, I made a beautiful flower out of tissue paper. I like my teacher a lot, but I love my mom.
Your friend,
Jody
Jody felt better when she had finished writing. She put the journal next to her bed, said her prayers, and went to sleep.
The next day, when Jody got home from school, her mother wasn’t there. Lisa told her that their sister, Ellen, who shared a room with Jody, had gotten sick and Mom had taken her to the doctor.
When Jody went into her bedroom to drop off her backpack she saw her journal on her pillow. She opened the journal and read the reply from her secret journal friend.
Dear Jody,
Your mom loves you very much too, and wants to spend more time with you. Why don’t you invite her out for ice cream on Friday night? You know how much she likes rainbow sherbet.
From,
Your Secret Journal Friend
Jody smiled. The ice cream was a good idea. It sounded like fun. But right now Jody was worried about her sister. She wanted to do something to make her feel better.
Jody took out her pencil and wrote:
Dear Secret Journal Friend,
I am sorry that Ellen is sick. I want to give her my tissue-paper flower, even though I made it for Mom. Do you think Mom would mind?
Your friend,
Jody
Then Jody remembered something else she was feeling bad about and wrote:
P.S. Today in art I got mad at my friend, Sara, because she spilled my paints. I even pulled her hair. Later I told her I was sorry. Will you still be my friend even when I do bad things?
The next day after school Jody found Ellen resting in their bedroom and gave her the brightly colored flower. Ellen’s eyes lit up and she grinned.
“Thanks, Jody,” Ellen said. “It’s really pretty. It makes me feel cheerful just looking at it.”
Jody smiled. Then she sat down on her bed and started reading her journal.
“What are you doing?” Ellen asked.
“I’m reading a message from my secret journal friend,” Jody told her.
“Your secret friend?” Ellen asked. “I think I saw your secret friend writing in your journal today. Do you want me to tell you who it is?”
“No thanks,” Jody responded. She took her journal out to the living room couch so she could be alone. She sat down and read:
Dear Jody,
I’m sure your mother won’t mind you giving away her flower. She will be very proud of you for being such a thoughtful sister.
From,
Your Secret Journal Friend
(who loves you always, NO MATTER WHAT)
Jody turned to a blank page, thought for a moment, then wrote:
Dear Secret Journal Friend,
Ellen liked the flower. I’m glad I gave it to her. Last night I prayed that she would feel better, and now she does!
I used to wonder how Heavenly Father can hear everyone’s prayers when there are so many people in the world, but now I think I know. Because Heavenly Father loves us no matter what, He will always find a way to answer our prayers.
Then Jody wrote in extra big letters:
I LOVE YOU, MOM!
Thanks for being my secret friend and my mother.
Love,
Jody
P.S. Don’t forget—tonight is ice-cream night!

After my family and I moved to a new state, I prayed constantly to find friends with whom I could talk about the gospel. As I prayed, I felt comforted, and a few months later I made some incredible friends. I can count on their support, and they have helped me to develop an even greater love for the gospel. I know that friends are important and they can make it easier for us to live the gospel.
Sarah P., age 16, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Oh, what joy there is in temple attendance! While the Salt Lake Temple was undergoing remodeling, my wife decided one day to gather up some of the ladies in our condominium building and drive out to the Jordan River Temple to enjoy a session there. After completing the session, they came out of the temple to find the land being blessed with hard rain. As they drove out of the temple grounds, standing under the shelter waiting for the bus was a little, elderly lady. My wife stopped and asked her if she wanted a ride into the city. She immediately came forward. On the ride into the city they heard a most humble testimony of a sweet sister, who every day was taking the bus out to the Jordan River Temple, summer and winter, rain or shine, to accomplish her temple work. She was only eighty-four years of age. She possessed a spirit of enthusiasm for temple work which deeply affected the riders in the car that day.

With those two extremes in mind, I would now like to give some examples which might help us attain that elusive balance between the spiritual and intellectual faculties. About seven years ago I was working as the new managing director of the Welfare Services Department of the Church. We were at a critical stage in the history of welfare. It was time to go through an agonizing reappraisal of the program in light of current world conditions. I was greatly worried and concerned.
After praying for a solution, I had a terrific thought. I decided I would ask to meet with some of the General Authorities. When I met with them, I poured out my concerns and added my feeling that we were at a stage where further revelation on the subject was necessary. Then I sat back with my note pad and waited for their inspired answers.
None of them just gave me the answers. Instead, each gave me the same counsel: “Brother Pace, you are absolutely right, we do need revelation. Now, go get it!” I had to study and research and meditate to formulate some recommendations that I could then take back to the Brethren.
Although study and thought are essential in discerning the Lord’s will for us, there is an avenue to truth greater than intellect and more certain than the five senses. The most glorious of all avenues to truth is direct revelation from heaven.

Things can feel pretty crummy sometimes, but you don’t have to stay down! These simple strategies have helped me conquer my crummy-day woes.

Sometimes it’s hard to see the little ways God shows that He knows and loves you—especially when you’re distracted by the bad stuff. For example, one morning after several people mentioned a zit I had on my forehead (one dubbed it “the volcano”), I could barely respond without an angry outburst. It almost ruined my day.

During difficult times like this, I cultivate gratitude by listing ways I see God’s hand in my life every day. I write down at least three blessings per day, often more.

Sometimes they may seem little or silly, but they are always things that help me know that God is aware of me specifically. For example, that same day at my job a particularly grumpy customer gave me a compliment—I was floored. He didn’t even mention “the volcano”! It went on my list.

What blessings have you seen today? Focus on the positive. Maybe your friend’s text was an answer to your prayers or simply put a smile on your face. Write down the tender mercies you see, and you’ll keep noticing more.

When we physically record these times that we see God’s hand in our lives—rather than just think of them briefly—it shows God that we recognize them and are grateful for them. President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, described what happened as he engaged in this process:
“Something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.
“More than gratitude began to grow in my heart.”1

Elder John H. Groberg was once asked to go with Elder Boyd K. Packer to Samoa to create a new stake on the island of Upolu. Their plan was to fly one afternoon from Savai’i to Upolu. On the day of the scheduled flight, however, an intense tropical storm stirred up the elements, so much so that it was far too dangerous to fly. The only way back to Upolu was by boat, and that mode of travel would be extremely treacherous.

The flight to Upolu would have taken less than a half hour, and under normal conditions the boat journey would have taken just a few hours. Conditions were far from normal, however. The boat went up and down and rolled . . . and pitched all over that angry ocean for many more hours than usual. [John H. Groberg, The Fire of Faith (Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1996), p. 257]

It was a terrible evening. Nearly everyone on board got sick. They held tightly on to one another to keep from being thrown overboard.

Finally, in the thick darkness of the night, they approached the harbor of Malifanua only to learn that they had another obstacle.

There was only a small opening in the reef and [they] had to negotiate it perfectly to keep from getting torn to pieces on the sharp coral on either side. . . .
Normally there are two lights for night entry—one at the wharf and another up the hill a way. When you line those two up you know you are entering the opening properly. Unfortunately the only light on that night was the one on the wharf. The one up the hill was not on, so [they] could not tell accurately where to enter the opening. [They] later found that the two men who were supposed to turn on the light on the hill had said to each other: “It’s a terrible stormy night and no one would be crazy enough to try to come from Savai’i. Let’s just stay home tonight and not go out in such a storm for no reason.” [Groberg, Fire of Faith, p. 257]

The boat in which Elder Groberg and Elder Packer were traveling had to reroute to a safer port some distance around the island. They arrived cold and soaked with ocean water with little time to spare before their meetings began in Upolu.

It isn’t just nice to be a light for others; it is essential for their exaltation as well as for our own. “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).

On another occasion, I was in New Zealand visiting the home of a single mother with three teenage children. The oldest son was 18 and had received the Melchizedek Priesthood just the previous Sunday. I asked if he had been able to exercise this priesthood yet. He said, “I’m not sure what that means.”
I told him he now had the authority to give a priesthood blessing of comfort or healing. I looked at his mother, who had not had a Melchizedek Priesthood holder by her side for many years. “I think it would be wonderful,” I said, “if you would give your mom a blessing.”
He replied, “I don’t know how.”
I explained that he could put his hands on his mother’s head, state her name, state that he is giving her a blessing by the authority of the Melchizedek Priesthood, say whatever the Spirit puts in his mind and heart, and close in the name of Jesus Christ.
The next day, I received an email from him. It read in part: “Tonight I blessed my mum. … I felt very, very nervous and inadequate, so I prayed continually to ensure I had the Spirit with me, because I could not give a blessing without it. As I started, I completely forgot myself and my weaknesses. … I [did not expect] the immense spiritual and emotional power I felt. … Afterwards the spirit of love hit me so hard I could not contain my emotions, so I hugged my mum and wept like a baby. … Even now as I write this, [I feel] the Spirit [so much that] I never want to sin again. … I love this gospel.”3
Isn’t it inspiring to see how a seemingly ordinary young man can accomplish great things through priesthood service, even when he feels inadequate? I recently learned that this young elder has received a mission call and will enter the missionary training center next month. I believe he will lead many souls to Christ because he has learned how to follow Christ in his priesthood service—beginning in his own home, where his example is having a profound influence on his 14-year-old brother.

Right before I graduated from college, my wife and I were pondering two questions: when we should begin having children and where to go after graduation. We spent many hours talking about these intimidating issues but hadn’t come to any conclusions.
One particular Sunday, our conversation slowly turned into a debate, which then escalated into an argument. At that moment, the doorbell rang. We were surprised to find our home teachers standing in the doorway.
We invited them in and listened to their message. One of our home teachers began talking about Moses and the children of Israel making their escape from Egypt. When the children of Israel got to the shores of the Red Sea, they could go no further, and the Egyptians were quickly approaching. The scriptures say that the children of Israel “were sore afraid” (Exodus 14:10). When Moses prayed for guidance, the Lord responded, “Wherefore criest thou unto me? speak unto the children of Israel, that they go forward” (Exodus 14:15).
As soon as our home teacher read that scripture, the feelings of frustration and fear melted away. My wife and I realized that we had been sitting on the banks of the Red Sea wondering what to do but that in order to “see the salvation of the Lord” (Exodus 14:13), we would have to go forward.
In our case, going forward meant making an informed decision, working diligently, and trusting in the Lord. We had to stop debating and start acting in faith. As we followed the Lord’s guidance, the sea of choices before us parted, and we were able to walk through unscathed. We are grateful for the blessings we received from moving forward in faith and for home teachers who inspired us to take the first steps.

Paper stars. I am half Thai and half American. I spent three years living in Laos, next to Thailand. For the first two years we were in Laos, my parents hired a pileang, or nanny, named Rojana, who took good care of me. Since she was Buddhist, I didn’t expect a gift from her at Christmas.
On Christmas morning I found a jar filled with at least a hundred tiny paper stars, folded so they were three-dimensional. They were blue and pink and glittery. Rojana had no money to buy me anything, so she spent hours folding those stars for a child who wasn’t her own.
It was a wonderful Christmas gift, a gift of time and dedication.Faye H., Virginia

Will wanted a picture of the temple. He wanted to put it in his room. He had heard the prophet say it would be a fine thing for everyone to have one.
“Mom, did you get me a picture of the temple yet?” Will asked.
“Not yet,” Mom said. She was busy taking care of the new baby.
“OK,” Will said.
Will loved the temple. He knew it is a special place where families are sealed together.
Will felt a little bit sad. Mom was too busy. How could he get a picture of the temple?
Then Will had a great idea. He didn’t need to wait for Mom!
Will ran to find his crayons and some paper. Then he sat down at the desk and started to draw.
After a long time, Will put down his crayons. He ran into the kitchen and held his picture up to show Mom.
“What a beautiful picture of the temple,” Mom said.
“Let’s go hang it in my bedroom,” William said.
“That’s a great idea!” Mom said.

Just about three months ago, one little girl resolved within herself to establish a special place where only goodness and kindness were permitted--her own little Zion. While visiting our children's grandparents' home, I observed our youngest daughter, Sophia, spend most of the morning in a small playhouse situated under the stairs. When she finally finished arranging everything just the way she wanted it, she came upstairs and began writing something on bright orange paper. After inquiring, I learned that this paper and, more importantly, its message, represented the finishing touch to the playhouse. Before entering the small opening under the stairs and posting the orange paper, little Sophie posed for a picture. When I finally examined the paper, I was amazed at what I saw. Would you like to know what it said?
Rules:
In the simplest, yet most profound way, a six-year old girl established behavioral guidelines that would lead to peaceful and profitable interaction--her own little Zion.

I have a friend who did not follow the teachings of the Church in his youth. When he was a young adult, he realized what he had been missing by not living the gospel. He repented, changed his life, and devoted himself to righteous living. One day, years after our youthful association, I met him in the temple. The gospel light shone in his eyes, and I sensed that he was a devoted member of the Church trying to fully live the gospel. His is a story of redemption.

One tragic story that President Jeffrey R. Holland shared involved a person from St. George, Utah—his hometown—who had been bullied as a youth and had made some decisions that made his later life difficult, including that he had stopped going to church. After moving away from St. George, he had found the importance of the gospel in his life, come back to church, and started a family. However, when he moved back to St. George, the people who had grown up with him seemed unable or unwilling to let the past go and give him a second chance. He ended up moving away again and, tragically, dying young.

President Holland said, “When a battered, weary swimmer tries valiantly to get back to shore, after having fought strong winds and rough waves which he should never have challenged in the first place, those of us who might have had better judgment, or perhaps just better luck, ought not to row out to his side, beat him with our oars, and shove his head back underwater. That’s not what boats were made for.”

As a young convert I sometimes felt uneasy with the members of my branch, and I had questions that went unanswered. But by reading and discussing articles in Le Liahona (French) with members of my branch, I got to know the members better. And I found answers to my questions through the magazine’s messages. I am truly grateful to Heavenly Father for inspiring me with the desire to study Le Liahona. I am happy to be a member of the Church and to read the testimonies of other members throughout the world.
Sandrine Hantala,Le Mans Branch, Tours France District

A few years ago, I was extremely depressed. The only thing I could find a little motivation for was my best friend and her children. We went for walks on weekends, which I enjoyed. Over time, however, we began to go on walks less and less frequently. I began to miss my friend and her family. I later learned that our walks became less frequent because my friend and her family had resumed a practice they had stopped many years before—attending church.
One day they invited me to lunch. Seeing them again made me feel very happy. I told them how much I missed them. My friend’s six-year-old daughter suggested that we solve that problem by going to church together. So without thinking twice, she invited me to go.
Oh, no! How could I make this family understand that going to church was right for them but too boring for me? I hadn’t gone to church for years, but how could I say no to a child? I said I would go, but the truth was that I didn’t have the least intention of keeping that promise.
That Sunday, I went to breakfast with my dad. My cell phone constantly rang, reminding me that I had promised a little girl that I would go to church with her. I ignored my cell phone until my dad asked me why I wasn’t answering it. I admitted that I had been invited to go to a church meeting but didn’t want to go. He smiled and said, “Lluvia, never make a promise to a child if you are not willing to fulfill it.” I decided I would keep my promise.
When I arrived at church, I felt something different, something that I can’t describe. I still can’t explain how it happened, but the next Sunday, I found myself there again, and the next and the next, until I understood what I was feeling: the Holy Ghost.
The Church members began to make me feel at home. Without any doubt, I was curious about the Church. I began meeting with the missionaries, and I also began to gain a testimony. The missionaries’ visits became more constant, and my understanding of the gospel grew until I felt an immense desire to be baptized. I was baptized a short time later, and now I enjoy the blessings of the gospel. Because of this, I’m so grateful I kept my promise to a six-year-old girl.

The patriarch has no blessing of his own to give. We heard Elder LeGrand Richards tell of a patriarch who once said to a woman, “I have a wonderful blessing for you.” But when the patriarch laid his hands on the head of the recipient, his mind went completely blank. He apologized. “I was mistaken. I do not have a blessing for you. It is the Lord who has the blessing for you.” The woman came back the next day, and after the patriarch had prayerfully importuned the Lord, a blessing came that mentioned many concerns known only to this good sister. All blessings come from God. Our Heavenly Father knows His children. He knows their strengths and weaknesses. He knows their capabilities and potential. Our patriarchal blessings indicate what He expects of us and what our potential can be.

Pioneer saints also turned to the Lord. Mary Murray Murdoch, who died on the plains of Nebraska, is just one of thousands examples of pioneer saints who overcame their sufferings through faith in Jesus Christ.

Mary Murdoch was known as "Wee Granny" to her descendents because of her small size; she was -4 feet-7 inches tall and weighed about 90 pounds. A widow, she lost her husband to a mining accident but continued to run the home and raised six of her eight children to maturity in her home in Scotland.

At the age of 67 she joined the church along with four of her children (some of whom were married at that time). In 1852 her son John, his wife, and their two children immigrated to Utah. Four years later he sent for his mother. She loved the gospel and had a deep desire to be with her son and the saints in Zion.

Wee Granny was almost seventy-four years old when she started the 6,000 mile journey to Salt Lake. In the company of the James Steel family she sailed from Liverpool, England to New York. From there they rode a train to the Midwest where the saints were assembling companies to go to Salt Lake. Because oxen and wagons were very expensive church leaders were organizing saints into handcart companies. It was argued that pushing these carts could actually be faster than driving the wagons with slow plodding oxen.

Wee Granny and the Steel Family that accompanied her were assigned to the Martin Handcart Company whose departure was delayed until the end of July. They averaged 13 miles a day pulling their carts over the hills and gullies of the trail. Unfortunately the hastily constructed carts began to break down. Other problems plagued the company. Food was rationed and some immigrants were forced to drink from puddles due to a shortage of water. In the midst of these difficulties Wee Granny walked every mile.

As the company pushed across central Nebraska, the increasing windy and harsh environment began to take its toll on Wee Granny. She trudged as far as she could, but eventually her body gave out near of Chimney Rock, the half way mark of the journey. On October 2, 1856 she died of fatigue and exposure and was buried in a shallow grave on the side of the trail.

Just before her passing, she requested her friends who gathered round her to "Tell John I died with my face towards Zion." [13]

Why was it so important that her son John know that she was facing Zion at her death? For me this sentence symbolizes so much.

In her 74th year and frail condition Wee Granny probably knew the chances of surviving the journey to the Salt Lake Valley were slim. But that earthly destination was not as important as her eternal goal. She was facing Zion. She was turned towards the Lord, Jesus Christ.

She wanted her posterity to know that in spite of the difficulties of the journey she still believed. What really mattered was her faith in Jesus Christ. She trusted in Him and in his will and in the wisdom of His timing.