Gospel Story Finder

Daniel stared out the window. He saw his friends heading to the park with their basketballs. He wanted to go too.
““I can’t take you today, Daniel,” Mom said. “Your sister has a bad cold. And you’re not quite old enough to go alone. I’m sorry.”
Daniel frowned at his sister, Elise. She was sitting in her wheelchair with her toys on her lap. She was five, but she couldn’t walk or talk yet. Elise coughed hard. She got sick a lot, and she couldn’t go outside if it was too hot or too cold. And she had to eat through a tube in her stomach.
Daniel loved his sister, but sometimes he felt angry too. It was hard to always do what was best for Elise. He just wanted to play with the other kids. His stomach knotted in frustration.
“It’s not fair!” he said to Mom. “Everything is always about Elise!” He ran down the hall to his room.
Two days later Elise’s cough got much worse, and she had to go to the hospital. Daniel’s grandparents came to stay with him. Mom and Dad spent most of their time at the hospital with Elise for the rest of the week.
Daniel’s grandparents could take him to play with the other kids. But now Daniel was worried about Elise. He was sorry for what he had said to his mom that day. He didn’t like how sometimes he couldn’t go play because of Elise. But Daniel loved how she smiled when he talked to her, and being with her made him feel happy.
Daniel looked out the window, hoping to see Mom and Dad bringing Elise home.
Suddenly Daniel saw Mom’s car turn into the driveway. He ran to meet her.
“Mom, I’m sorry for what I said about Elise that day I got mad,” he said, hugging her tight.
“It’s OK,” Mom said as she hugged him back. “I know you love her. It doesn’t seem fair that we can’t always do the things you want to do. It’s hard sometimes for everybody. But I know we are blessed to have Elise in our family.”
Daniel said, “I miss her.”
“Me too,” said Mom. “The doctor said she can probably come home tomorrow.”
Two weeks later Daniel and Elise were both in Primary.
“Everyone find a partner and form a circle!” the Primary president said.
Daniel hurried forward and grabbed his sister’s wheelchair.
“Elise is my partner,” he told her teacher. He wheeled her up front to join the circle of children.
He looked over at Elise. She smiled at him, and he smiled back.
Daniel was glad Elise could be home again. He wanted to be a special brother to her.

When my sister was single and struggling with dating, she realized she might be making this mistake. So she drew a simple picture of her desired partner:
A stick figure with three—only three—of the most important attributes she wanted in a husband. No height requirements, no six-figure salary quota.
Within several months she started dating her future spouse. He was dedicated to the gospel, hardworking, and honest. Together they are working to create an eternal marriage.

Jordan looked at the calendar for the tenth time that day. There was a big X on today’s date and all the previous days of the month. But there wasn’t room for an X on the calendar the next day because it was already filled in—it had a picture of his brother, Jared.
“Mom, I can’t believe Jared will be home tomorrow,” Jordan said.
“I know,” Mom said. “Two years seemed like a long time when he left on his mission, but the weeks went by so quickly.”
“Do you think he will remember me?” Jordan asked.
“Of course he will,” Mom said. “You’ve changed a lot though. You’ve grown so tall.”
“Can I run down to Steven’s and remind him that Jared will be home tomorrow?” Jordan asked.
“You’ve already reminded Steven’s family and every other family in our neighborhood,” Mom said. “Besides, I have a job list for you today.” She pulled out the breadboard and put a piece of paper with a list of jobs on it.
Mom always wrote job lists and placed them on the breadboard. That’s the way it had been for as long as Jordan could remember. Everyone in the family got lists with three or four jobs on it. Dad got them. Kerri and Cassi, Jordan’s two sisters, got them. Jared used to get them. And Mom placed her own lists there too.
Jordan wrinkled his face into the grumpiest look he had. “I don’t want to do jobs,” he said. “I’m too excited to do jobs.”
“I know,” Mom said. “I want to run and jump and tell the whole world that Jared’s coming home tomorrow. We love him and missed him while he was gone, and I want our home to be warm and welcoming, and clean and neat so that Jared will feel comfortable when he gets home.”
Jordan frowned again. Then he remembered the scripture his family had read in family home evening about honoring your mother and father. He wondered if it meant to honor your brother too.
Jordan picked up his job list. He did the easy jobs first. He fed Bear, their black-and-white border collie. He swept the front porch and the steps. He took the garbage out and vacuumed the living room, dining room, and hall. His list was a little longer than usual but he worked quickly and kept crossing off jobs. The more he worked the better he felt. Soon his grumpiest look was replaced with a big smile.
He saved the hardest job for last—cleaning his room. That was always a huge job.
“I’ll help you,” Mom said as she walked into Jordan’s bedroom. He stood in the middle of it wondering where to begin.
They put his games on the shelves and took his dirty clothes to the laundry room. They cleared off the dresser and put his clean clothes into the drawers.
“I wonder if Jared will want his skateboard back,” Jordan thought as he started to push it under his bed. He stopped and thought about it. Then he pushed it into Jared’s room just in case.
“Whew!” Jordan said when they finally finished vacuuming and dusting. “That was a lot of work. I sure hope Jared feels welcome when he gets here.”
When Jordan got up the next morning he had a great idea.
“Hey, Mom,” he called as he ran into the kitchen waving a piece of paper. “I know how we can make Jared feel glad to be back home. And he will know how much we love him and missed him too!”
Jordan’s parents were cooking breakfast and his sisters were helping, but they all stopped to listen and look at Jordan’s paper. It read:
Feed Bear.
Vacuum the living room, dining room, and hall.
Unload the dishwasher.
Take out the garbage.
Sweep the porch and steps.
Mow the lawn.
Hose off the driveway.
Wash the windows and screens.
Clean the garage.
Clean your room.
Jordan pulled out the breadboard and slapped the job list on it. “Jared will really feel at home with this,” he said.
Everyone laughed.
“Isn’t it kind of long?” Dad asked.
“Well, we really love him and we really missed him,” Jordan said. “And besides, think of all the jobs he missed out on for the last two years.”
Everyone laughed harder.
Before they left for the airport, Dad added some more jobs to the list. Kerri and Cassi added more. Mom added a few too. The more jobs they added, the more everyone laughed. Soon they had 43 jobs on Jared’s list. As they drove to the airport Jordan knew his brother would feel loved and right at home even though he had been gone a long time.

When I was in my late teens, I received a telephone call that would change my life—my eternal life.
A good sister from my ward called to invite me to perform a dance floor show number at a Mutual activity evening that was being held in a couple of weeks. Dancing was a hobby of mine, and I was studying ballroom dancing at a studio in Salt Lake City. I had never been to a youth MIA (Mutual Improvement Association) dance before, and I was excited to accept the invitation to perform.
My partner and I arrived on the appointed evening and were greeted enthusiastically. I was surprised to find that we were the only ones on the program. It was an exciting experience, and I thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
The following Sunday morning, I decided to go to church in our ward for the first time since I was ordained a deacon. At that time, none of my family was active. I found people who welcomed me warmly, and they demonstrated a genuine friendship and caring. These experiences started me on the road to activity and service in the Church that has been a joy to me throughout the years.
A group of brethren took me under their wings, and we became good friends. A wonderful returned missionary taught me the basics of the gospel and helped prepare me to serve a mission. During this same time I was asked to help teach dancing in the ward, which gave me a feeling of being needed, and it also gave me a responsibility.
The next 15 months flew by, filled with growth and happiness as I progressed. I soon received a call to serve a mission in Mexico. I quickly grew to love the language, the country, and its people. Sharing the message of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ gave me a foundation upon which to build the rest of my life.
That evening so long ago when I was invited to share my talent, the door opened to a wonderful new world of friends and activity in the Church. I am grateful for those who reached out with a warm hand of fellowship, invited me in, nurtured me, and blessed my life.

Another challenge to Craig’s humility might be the role he has played in the Hill Cumorah Pageant for the past several years. As Moroni, he is not on the stage very long. But when he is, there are just Craig and his father (playing Mormon) on that huge stage. And finally, there is just Craig/Moroni, carrying the gold plates upward from level to level and into the darkness beyond the spotlights. It’s an important moment.
“How do you like being in the pageant with your father?” I wanted to know.
“It’s super; it’s just great. I can’t often look him in the eye while we are on stage because I am supposed to be looking toward the audience. But when I do look him in the eye, the emotion is there and it’s hard to hold back. He’s saying that tomorrow will be the last battle of the Nephites and they’ll be destroyed. And when my father says that, I feel it. It’s like it’s real. And then I have to go and do my part as best I can.
“I wasn’t very confident with the part at first. I was very nervous. But after four rehearsals, and getting my lines and actions down, everything just worked out from there. Now it’s great. I can go up there and think about the audience and try my hardest to share my testimony—Moroni’s testimony—with them.”

Among these reformers was the Reverend John Lathrop, vicar of the Egerton Church in Kent, England. Incidentally, the Prophet Joseph Smith was descended from John Lathrop. In 1623 the Reverend Lathrop resigned his position because he questioned the authority of the Anglican church to act in the name of God. As he read the Bible, he recognized that apostolic keys were not on the earth. In 1632 he became the minister of an illegal independent church and was put in prison. His wife died while he was in prison, and his orphaned children pleaded with the bishop for his release. The bishop agreed to release Lathrop on condition that he leave the country. This he did, and with 32 members of his congregation he sailed to America.

I am convinced that families, even young children, can learn to love the scriptures. A few years ago when I was in Colorado Springs for a conference, I called on Mark McConkie, son of Elder and Sister Bruce R. McConkie, to address the question: “How did you develop a love for the scriptures?”

As I recall, he said: “I first developed a love for the scriptures from my mother. I remember she would teach me while she did her ironing. I felt how she loved the scriptures by the way she would speak about the prophets. How much she loved them! As I grew older, I would listen to the recordings of the scriptures. I wanted to know the scriptures like my father. Sometimes he would enter the room while I was listening and it would take him just a moment to identify the exact scripture I was listening to. I wanted to be able to do that.”

Every day we make choices. Some aren’t a big deal—what color backpack we carry, for example. Other choices are a big deal—for instance, how we treat other people or whether we obey a commandment. Read the story below and pretend that you are the main character. What choices would you make?
Your mom says that you may invite two friends over after school tomorrow. First you call Julie, who lives a few miles away. She is in your Primary class as well as in your class at school. Her parents say yes! She will walk home with you; her parents will pick her up before supper.
Next you call Tasha, a nonmember who lives just a few houses away. She can come too. Before she hangs up the phone, though, she asks if anyone else is coming. When you tell her that Julie is also coming, Tasha says, “Yuk! Then I don’t want to come, after all.”
If you say, “Julie is my friend too. Why don’t you come and get to know her better?” go to A. If you say, “OK, I’ll tell Julie that something came up with my mom and that I can’t have anybody over,” go to F.
A. Tasha says, “Well, I guess I’ll still come, but don’t expect me to make friends with Julie.” After school, Tasha and Julie walk home with you. When Julie stoops to tie her shoelace, Tasha makes an ugly face at her behind her back.
If you say, “Julie, Tasha’s making faces at you. She didn’t want you to come,” go to J. If you say nothing but give Tasha a look of disappointment, go to E.
E. When you get to your house, punch and cookies are on the table. They turn out to be the favorite treats of both Tasha and Julie. As the afternoon goes on, you see that Tasha is actually being friendly with Julie. Tasha says, “Hey, Julie, I didn’t know you were such fun! You never say anything in school.”
If you suddenly feel jealous and try to discourage their growing friendship, go to B. If you try to help them become better friends, go to I.
I. You suggest that you all play on the tire swing. Tasha has the first turn swinging. As Julie climbs on the tire for her turn, a car full of teenagers zips by. One of them flips a cigarette on the curb. Tasha runs to pick it up. “It’s still lit!” She turns to you and says, “I dare you to try it!”
If you say, “No, I don’t do that kind of stuff, and I hope you don’t either, ‘cause it’s bad for you,” go to D. If you say, “Well, maybe just one puff—but you’d better not tell anyone!” go to H.
H. You put the cigarette to your mouth. You don’t breathe it in deeply, but even so, it tastes yucky. You are still holding it when Tasha’s mom drives by. She stops the car, hollers at Tasha to get in, and says to you, “Don’t expect Tasha to be coming over anymore.”
You feel awful. When your eyes meet Julie’s, you see that she is very disappointed in you. You promise that you’ll never do anything like that again. Julie gives you a weak smile and says, “I believe you, but I don’t think that Tasha’s mom ever will.”
This is your last chance in this story to get on the “right-choice” track. Hurry to D!

At Rock Creek Hollow, on property the Church now owns, is the common grave of 13 who perished in one night. Among them was a nine-year-old girl from Denmark who was traveling alone with another family. Her name was Bodil Mortensen.
In October of 1856, wind-driven heavy snow was already two feet deep as those of the James G. Willie Company tried to find some shelter from the terrible storm. Bodil went out and gathered brush with which to make a fire. Returning, she reached her cart with the brush in her arm. There she died, frozen to death. Starvation and bitter cold drained from her emaciated body the life she had fought for.

In my last month, my mum went with me during the Easter break. It was a sunny day, but there were some grey clouds threatening on the horizon. We started taking the pictures and we really wanted to take advantage of my mother’s time off from work, but the grey clouds started getting closer and darker. We prayed asking Heavenly Father for help to achieve our goal. And then, in a blink of an eye, there was some wind and the clouds moved, and it was sunny again. And it happened again, so we prayed once more, and we had sun a second time. We did this three times, and we had positive results from our prayers each time. We completed our goal: we finished that section, and we ended up taking 405 pictures on that day.

Hello from Mexico! I was excited to get your letter and hear about your birthday coming up. It sounds like you’re a little nervous about leaving Primary. Can I tell you about when I went into Young Women?
I was nervous about leaving Primary too. I was worried that I might not make any friends. I was scared of being one of the youngest girls instead of one of the oldest.
But it all worked out just fine. The bishop interviewed me before my birthday and told me the change would be a good thing. On Sunday, I still felt shy and stayed in the Primary room. Luckily, one of the Young Women leaders found me there. She said, “I thought I would find you here! Come on, it’s time to go to class.”
Sister Diaz welcomed me in opening exercises, and she gave me three books that I’ve come to love: For the Strength of Youth, Young Women Personal Progress, and a journal. As I looked around the room, I realized that I knew some of the girls there from Primary. Some of the girls I didn’t know said hi to me. Soon I felt peace instead of fear.
Things just kept getting better after that. Mutual activities have been special to me because they’ve taught me how to live the gospel and how to help my family and friends. And going to camp each year is so much fun! Now that I’m a Laurel, I hope to finish Personal Progress soon. I can’t wait to wear the Young Women medallion so it can remind me of how much I have grown nearer to my Heavenly Father over the years.
So don’t be fearful, my friend. Spread your wings and fly to Young Women. I promise you won’t be sorry.
Love,
Maribel

When Rebecca, 17, sits down to play the piano, she isn’t alone for long. Pretty soon her brother Michael, 19, joins in on the guitar or saxophone. And younger sister and brother, Alesha, 14, and Logan, 10, might sing or dance.

For the Raymond Maire family in Silverdale, New Zealand, music is something that brings a special harmony to their home. And it is a connection they have with their aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents.

“I play six instruments,” said Michael. “I like to jam with my friends. I listen to a lot of old jazz.”

“We all play something,” said Rebecca.

The Maires get their musical ability from their grandfather. Their mom, Raewyn, explains, “Michael learned the guitar first from his grandad. He spent a lot of time with Michael and helped him understand the basics of music. Once he picked that up everything else was easy.”

Family, including their extended family, is very important to the Maires. Michael explains, “We are lucky because pretty much our whole extended family is just around the corner. Our grandparents are just down the road.”

“My best friends are my cousins,” said Rebecca. “We are so close that when we see each other, even if it is just the next day, it’s a really joyful reunion. We all support each other through everything we’ve had to go through. It’s a neat feeling.”

One of the things that brothers and sisters and cousins can support each other in is their commitment to living the gospel. “The word gets around that we won’t do certain things,” said Rebecca. “We don’t realize that people watch us all the time until someone says, ‘You’re a Mormon, aren’t you?’ Or they say, ‘I saw some missionaries from your church. Is that what your brother is going to be?’”

When Michael is serving, he’ll know that there are a lot of folks at home supporting him. And maybe Grandpa will be teaching yet another grandchild about music.

It all began when Annie was just six years old. One early August morning, Cousin Golda came skipping barefoot through the red sand to our house.
“Guess what!” she panted, “we’ve got two new babies, and one of them is a brother.”
“Twins!” Mama exclaimed, setting the milk pans on the kitchen table.
Happily Golda nodded. “A brother and a sister!”
Mama stooped and hugged Golda.
“Oh Mama, can we go see them?” Annie pleaded.
“Later,” Mama replied.
“How come Aunt Mary has two babies?” four-year-old Kate asked.
“Because it’s a ‘double blessing.’ That’s what Grandma always says,” Golda replied. “Especially if one of them is a brother. Now I’ve told you, I have to hurry home.” The screen door slammed behind her.
Papa came in with a foaming bucket of milk and strained it into the pans Mama had set out. “You should have seen Lew this morning,” he said. “His feet scarcely touched the ground. He didn’t bother to open the pasture gate, but jumped the fence to tell me about his son. ‘Mary has a baby boy!’ he hollered.”
“Mary has twins,” Mama corrected.
“Yes, I know. But one of them is a boy,” Papa stressed.
Annie wondered if Papa had something in his eyes, because he blinked as he said, “I’m glad for Lew. It’s important for a man to have sons.”
“I know,” Mama said, turning her face toward the cupboard.
Poor Mama, Annie thought, all she has is girls, three of them, counting Baby Mildred. A hundred times over Papa had said, “If we had sons of our own, I wouldn’t always be borrowing Ren’s boys to ride the range with me.”
Mama’s usual retort was, “Be thankful you have nephews.”
For the next few days Papa had so much to say about Lew’s son that it was plain to see that he was eating his heart out for a boy of his own.
“After all, George,” Mama finally reminded him, “we have to leave some things up to Heavenly Father.”
One day just when Annie had begun to think Papa didn’t care for girls at all, Mildred toddled over to him and wrapped her chubby arms around his legs. With a hearty laugh, he picked her up and tossed her to the ceiling. “Ah, you’re a precious one,” he crooned. “Little girls bring joy to a man’s heart.”
Well! What a relief! Annie thought.
Mama had said they could see the babies later, and later had finally come. How cuddly the twins looked, sleeping side by side in the wide new cradle Uncle Lew had built.
Fascinated, Annie and Kate gazed at them while Golda stood proudly by.
“Oh, aren’t they cute,” Annie purred.
“The one with the most hair is my brother,” Golda volunteered.
“They don’t either one have hair,” Kate observed.
“Yes, they do,” Golda countered. “See that little bit of pink hair?” Golda pointed.
“He’s a boy.”
“Why is a boy so much?” Kate asked.
“Because boys don’t get scared of the dark,” Annie replied.
“But the baby sister is the cutest,” Kate insisted.
Aunt Mary chuckled from her stack of pillows.
“They’re both the cutest. Two babies are twice as cute as one,” Annie defended.
The baby girl squirmed.
“Would you like to rock the cradle, Annie?” Aunt Mary asked.
“Oh yes,” she said, beaming. Gently she rocked, then remarked, “I love them and I wish we had twins just like them.”
“Papa only wants a boy,” Kate observed.
At the supper table that evening, Annie and Kate prattled on about the twins.
“Do all baby boys have pink hair?” Kate asked.
“No,” Mama replied. “Aunt Mary’s little boy has white hair. But it looks pink because his head shines through.”
“Oh,” Kate said, satisfied. Then, after a moment, “Do boys always tease? When he grows up will Aunt Mary’s boy tease like my cousin Cliff does?”
“Maybe Cliff did put a beetle in your mud pie once, but he made a water-willow whistle for you too,” Papa reminded her.
Thoughtfully she said, “I like my whistle. I think maybe we’ll have a brother too.”
Chuckling, Papa patted her head, then went out to do the chores.
Annie and Kate sat on the front steps in the gathering dusk, while sleepy birds twittered in the mulberry tree.
“Kate, shall we surprise Mama and Papa?” Annie asked.
“How?”
“Let’s ask Heavenly Father to send us twins like he did to Aunt Mary and Uncle Lew—a girl and a boy.”
“All Papa wants is a brother,” Kate said glumly. “We’ve already got a little sister.”
“But Mildred doesn’t look little anymore. Think what a big surprise it would be if we had twins.”
“Especially the boy part,” Kate giggled.
That night as they knelt by their bed, Annie prayed first. “Dear Heavenly Father,” she said, “Papa wants a boy so bad. Please bless us with a baby brother. And, also, could you send us a little sister too. We want twins just like Aunt Mary’s. Thank you for Papa, Mama, Grandma, my sisters, and my happy home. We will take good care of the twins. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen. Now, Kate, you pray.”
So, for the days, weeks, and months that followed, Annie and Kate faithfully prayed in secret for the big surprise for Papa and Mama. In Kate’s mind the deadline for the twins to arrive was Christmas. When they did not come then, she was very disappointed.
“But you got a rag doll and some cookies. That’s plenty,” Annie comforted.
“From now on, I’m only asking for a brother,” Kate said decisively. “A brother can help carry water from the barrel like Cliff does.”
“Well, I’ll still keep praying for a really big surprise,” Annie emphasized.
Springtime brought a problem. The family moved to the sawmill on Kolob Mountain, and Kate decided to put off praying for a brother until they moved back to town for the winter. “Heavenly Father would have a hard time finding our little one-room cabin and tent among the pines,” she reasoned.
But Annie said, “I’ll tell Him where we are.” And she did.
July was more than halfway gone. The hammering, hollow sound of a woodpecker in the ponderosa by the tent awoke Annie. It was barely daylight, still everyone was up and busy except her and her two sisters. She knew, from the smell of wood smoke curling from the cabin chimney, that the cracked wheat for breakfast would already be simmering. The music of the dawn was sweet contentment to her as she listened to the rush, then the hush of the wind in the pines. Mingled with the jubilant chirp of the robin and the cheeping of the wrens was the ring of Papa’s axe, chopping firewood. Through the open tent flap, she saw the bracken ferns and larkspurs waving in the breeze.
Slipping quietly out of bed, she walked out into the morning, barefoot, holding her long nightgown above the trampled meadow grass. A squirrel chattered from his perch in an oak, and wild roses fluttered delicately pink by the door. Heaven seemed to kiss the earth. Surely, this must be a special day.
“Well now, how’s my little early bird? Papa asked, approaching with his armload of wood. “I’ll bet you can’t guess what a big surprise we have for you!”
Annie’s heart leaped. “Mama has twins,” she declared.
Papa stopped with astonishment. “How in the world did you guess?”
Breathlessly she opened the door and rushed inside. There sat Grandma in front of the warm oven with a tiny baby on her lap.
“Come and see your brother, Annie,” she said.
“Oh, baby brother,” Annie cooed, “I knew you’d find us.” Then scanning the dark shadows of the cabin, she asked, “Where is our baby sister?”
“Who said there was a sister?” Papa teased.
By now Annie’s eyes were accustomed to the dimness and she spied the bunk bed. With a bound, she was at Mama’s side. There, nestled snug against her was another baby.
“Oh Mama, what a tiny, cute sister.”
Everybody looked at everyone.
Tenderly Annie said, “We prayed a long, long time for this big surprise. Kate just asked for a brother, but I kept praying for twins like Aunt Mary’s. We knew how surprised and happy you’d be.”
Amazed, Grandma shook her head, and her voice choked as she said, “The simple and perfect faith of a little child!”
Papa blinked his eyes, the same as he did when Uncle Lew’s son was born. Only this time he couldn’t blink fast enough to keep the tears from falling. “It’s a miracle,” he said softly.
Annie slid into the empty chair next to Grandma. “May I hold him please?”
Gently Grandma laid the tiny bundle in her arms. Papa picked up the baby from the bed and put her in Annie’s arms too. Softly Annie cooed as she rubbed her cheek against each little silken head. With a face as radiant as that of an angel, she whispered, “Oh you sweet, sweet little double blessing.”
And that’s how I happened to be a twin, for I was that baby girl.

As a new convert to the Church, I experienced a spiritual rescue through the saving hands of a faithful member of the Church. I grew up in Matsumoto, Japan, close to where the Nagano Winter Olympics were held. My hometown looks very much like Salt Lake City, a valley surrounded by beautiful mountains. When I was 17 years old, I met two American missionaries, Elder Carter and Elder Hayashi. Though our ages were only two or three years apart, the elders had something wonderful that I had never felt before. They were diligent, cheerful, and filled with love and light. I was deeply impressed by their qualities, and I wanted to become like them. I listened to their message and decided to be baptized. My parents, who were Buddhist, strongly opposed my baptism. Through the help of the missionaries and the Lord, I received permission and miraculously was baptized.
The next year I entered the university in Yokohama. Living alone, far from my hometown and the people I knew, I became lonely and strayed from the Church. One day I received a postcard from a Church member back home. She wrote that she had heard I was not attending Church meetings. She quoted a scripture and invited me to return to church. I was overwhelmed by the words of the scripture. This helped me realize that maybe I had lost something important, and I pondered and struggled for many days. This also caused me to remember a promise the missionaries had made to me: “If you read the Book of Mormon and ask in fervent prayer if the promise found in Moroni is true, you will know the truth through the power of the Holy Ghost.”2
I realized that I was not praying with all of my heart and decided to do so. One morning I woke up early, knelt in my small apartment, and prayed sincerely. To my surprise, the confirmation of the Holy Ghost came upon me as promised. My heart burned, my body shook, and I was filled with joy. Through the power of the Holy Ghost, I learned that God the Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, live and that They truly appeared to Joseph Smith. I made a commitment in my heart to repent and faithfully follow Jesus Christ for the rest of my life.
This spiritual experience changed my life completely! I decided to serve a mission out of gratitude to the Lord and to the Church member who rescued me. Following my mission, I was sealed in the temple to a wonderful girl, and we have been blessed with four children. Not coincidentally, this is the same girl who saved me by sending a postcard to that lonely apartment in Yokohama many years ago. I remain ever grateful for the mercy of the Lord and the help of this Church member, who invited me to once again come unto Christ.3

As we have already noticed, Chauncey West was not all seriousness. On April 12 he rented a “wheel” and rode out to his cousin Abraham H. Cannon’s place and there found “Uncle George and about 20 of my cousins and aunts there at a family gathering.” Another bicycle ride followed the next day, when, at 6:00 in the morning, he and LeRoi met three young ladies.
“The girls looked very neat in the tight fitting waists and bloomers. I rode along the side of Miss Abbie Wardrobe and enjoyed the trip very much. We returned after about one and a half hours ride with our partners. Then leaving them at home we started for Becks Hot Springs and had a fine trip. We went around the sloping bicycle track and then returned. We then started for the Fort, namely Fort Douglas. We had a hard ride going up, but coming down I just sailed.”
He was ready for a short nap when they got back to LeRoi’s place. Then they caught a train for Saltair beach, did some sightseeing, and returned for an evening at Miss White’s.

The next morning at 10:00, about ten of the Niçois (as the people from Nice are known) gathered at the gare (train station) and headed for the hills. With them were two 16-year-old sisters from Marseilles. First stop, Mont Alban, an ancient chateau fort (fortified castle) overlooking the bay.
Looking out from the summit, Christiane Beltrutti, 18, mentally traced trails between the red tile roofs of buildings, then gazed at sails drifting on the azure bay. The mood of the moment led her to contemplate her love for her home.
“The most important thing we can do is to build up the Church where we live,” she said. “I love this area. I love these people. I want to share the gospel with them; I want to grow strong here and see my children, later on, grow up in the Church, along with many of their friends.
“People come from all over the world to visit Nice. Those of us who live here should really appreciate the beauty, not just of the coastline, but of the inland towns and villages as well. I think most of us do.”
It’s a quick ride from the top of the hill back to the old part of the city. Here tourists crowded the boutiques and souvenir shops, eager to gather memories of their days in the sun. Everyone seemed excited just to be there. “We call it la joie de vivre,” said Michel Demisse. “That means the joy of being alive.”
The young Latter-day Saints did, indeed, seem excited with life, excited to be exploring the city. On foot they wound their way through narrow cobblestone streets, between houses stacked haphazardly one upon another, past women who still carry home laundry in baskets on their heads. In the marketplace, bright red buckets brimmed with olives and clams and cod for sale. Flower shops peeked in colorful profusion from alley corners. Minstrels serenaded restaurant patrons dining on pan bagnat or socca, specialties of the regional cuisine.
Nice is a melting pot community. The Greek-French singer Georges Moustaki defined the area as a meeting place of continents and civilizations. A glance at the young Saints confirmed his analysis. Philippe Benarous is from a Norman family that has Scandinavian and Germanic ancestry. Chantal Daviot, a member of a year and a half, had ancestors who helped settle the French colonies in Africa. Isabelle Perez’s name reflects the Spanish influence in the area, and Christiane’s last name, Beltrutti, shows the Italian flavor of the sunlit coast.
After a pause at a fountain to eat their sandwiches, the group decided that, despite threatening clouds, it was worth the two-mile hike up hills and stairs to Le Château, site of a castle long-since destroyed. In their decision, they reflected again the philosophy described by Moustaki: “Il y a un bel été qui ne craint pas l’automne en méditerranée.” (There is a beautiful summer that is not afraid of autumn, in the Mediterranean.) Though the rain drizzled down, they knew the sun would eventually break through. They bounded up the steps and paused to catch their breath at the top of the first flight.
Huddled under umbrellas, they again shared their feelings about gospel ideals.
Isabelle, 18, is the only one in the group who was born in the Church. “I like what we are able to learn about ourselves by being active in the gospel,” she said. “It’s important to get together with other members of the Church because in different spiritual, cultural, and recreational activities, we get to appreciate ourselves and our brothers and sisters better. I especially enjoy meetings at which returned missionaries from our hometowns speak because it helps us see that the Church is not small; it’s worldwide and growing. This helps young people to want to go on missions.”
“In fact,” Brigitte Besson added, “one of the problems we face is that we have to change personnel so often—all of our young men keep leaving on missions.”
Jean-Paul Tran, 18, from Grasse, said one of the local goals is to get everyone working together so that soon a stake can be formed in Nice.
“We all have the same ideals, really,” said Chantal. “To progress together, to improve each other by being together, to find increased spirituality.”
The hike continued. The rain lessened, then increased, just as the group passed in front of a waterfall that tumbles from the summit. “Isn’t it nice to be so cool?” someone hollered ahe mist from the falls and flung it in his face.
One more flight of stairs, and the group was on top. Leaning over the railings, they looked at the beach, usually full of sunbathers, now empty and stretching for miles between la Promenade des Anglais (one of Nice’s main streets) and la Baie des Anges (Bay of the Angels).
Several minutes later, after stopping by the beach and listening to roaring waves, the group rejoined the rest of the conference attenders for an afternoon of workshops at the chapel.

Mother taught me that we have an obligation to give, that others don’t owe us a living, and that more joy comes from giving than receiving.
As a child, I desired a birthday party. I invited all of my friends to come—it wasn’t even near my birthday—and I carefully instructed them to each bring me a dime. When Mother heard of my trick, she immediately gave me a scolding, sat me down, and carefully explained why what I did was not right. Then she went with me to each of my friends so that I could apologize. It was an embarrassing lesson, but one I have never forgotten.

That summer, Louisa Pratt moved her family into a cabin she had purchased for five dollars. It was her third home in Winter Quarters. After the chimney failed on her sod home, she had moved the family into a damp dugout, which was little more than a five-foot hole in the ground with a leaky roof.
In the new house, Louisa paid some men to install a floor of split logs. She then had a bowery built in front of her house that could seat twenty-five people, and she and her daughter Ellen opened a school for children. Her daughter Frances, meanwhile, planted and tended a garden and chopped wood for heating the home and cooking.
Louisa’s health was still poor. After recovering from her fever and shakes, she took a bad fall on the snow and ice and hurt her knee. While living in the dugout, she developed scurvy and lost her front teeth. But she and her daughters had suffered less than many of the Saints. Everyone had neighbors and friends who had died from the sicknesses that raged through camp.25
After purchasing the home and making repairs, she had little money left. When her supply of food was almost gone, she visited her neighbors and asked if they would be interested in purchasing her feather bed, but they did not have any money either. While speaking with them, Louisa mentioned that she had nothing in her house to eat.
“You do not seem troubled,” one of them said. “What do you expect to do?”
“Oh, no, I do not feel troubled,” Louisa said. “I know deliverance will come in some unexpected way.”
As she made her way home, she visited another neighbor. During the conversation, the neighbor mentioned Louisa’s old-fashioned iron crane, which was used for holding pots in a fireplace. “If you will sell it,” the neighbor said, “I will give you two bushels of cornmeal.” Louisa agreed to the bargain, recognizing the Lord was blessing her once again.
That spring, Louisa felt healthier and ventured out to worship with the Saints. The women in the settlement had begun to meet together to strengthen each other by exercising their spiritual gifts. During one meeting, the women spoke in tongues while Elizabeth Ann Whitney, who had been a spiritual leader among the Saints for many years, interpreted. Elizabeth Ann said that Louisa would have health, cross the Rocky Mountains, and there have a joyful reunion with her husband.
Louisa was startled. She had assumed that she would reunite with Addison in Winter Quarters and then make the journey west with him. Without his help, she could see no way, physically or financially, to make the journey.26
As the members of the advance company headed into the heart of the Rocky Mountains, the trail grew steeper and the men and women tired more easily. Ahead of them, clearly visible above the rolling plains, were snowcapped peaks much taller than any mountain they had seen in the eastern United States.
One night in early July, Brigham’s wife Clara awoke with a fever, a headache, and intense pain in her hips and back. Others soon complained of the same symptoms, and they struggled to keep pace with the rest of the company. Every step they took on the stony ground was agonizing for their feeble limbs.27
Clara felt better as the days passed. The strange sickness seemed to attack quickly, then subside a short time later. On July 12, however, Brigham came down with a fever. He became delirious through the night. The next day, he felt somewhat better, but he and the apostles decided to rest most of the company while Orson Pratt pressed on with a band of forty-two men.28
About a week later, Brigham instructed Willard Richards, George A. Smith, Erastus Snow, and others to continue on and catch up with Orson’s advance company. “Halt at the first suitable spot after reaching the Salt Lake Valley,” he instructed, “and put in our seed potatoes, buckwheat, and turnips, regardless of our final location.”29 Remembering Jim Bridger’s report on the region, he cautioned the company against going south into Utah Valley until they had become better acquainted with the Ute people who inhabited it.30
Clara, her two young half brothers, and her mother stayed behind with Brigham and the other sick pioneers. Once the company felt strong enough to continue, they followed a crude trail across uneven terrain choked with underbrush. In some places, the canyon walls were so high that heavy dust became trapped in the air, making it difficult to see what lay ahead.
On July 23, Clara and the sick company climbed a long, steep trail to the summit of a hill. From there they descended through a thick grove of trees, winding their way down a path riddled with stumps left by those who cut the trail. A mile down the hill, the wagon carrying Clara’s brothers overturned in a ravine and smashed against a rock. Men quickly cut a hole in the wagon cover and pulled the boys to safety.
While the company rested at the bottom of the hill, two riders from Orson’s company arrived in camp with reports that they were near the Salt Lake Valley. Exhausted, Clara and her mother pushed ahead with the rest of the company until the early evening. Above them, the sky looked ready for a storm.31
The next morning, July 24, 1847, Wilford drove his carriage for several miles down a deep ravine. Brigham lay behind him in the carriage, too feverish and weak to walk. Soon they traveled along a creek through another canyon until they arrived at a level bench of land that opened to a view of the Salt Lake Valley.
Wilford gazed with wonder at the vast country below. Fertile fields of thick green prairie grass, watered by clear mountain streams, stretched for miles before them. The streams emptied into a long narrow river that ran lengthwise down the valley floor. A rim of tall mountains, their jagged peaks high in the clouds, surrounded the valley like a fortress. To the west, glistening like a mirror in the sunlight, was the Great Salt Lake.
After a journey of more than a thousand miles through prairie, desert, and canyons, the sight was breathtaking. Wilford could imagine the Saints settling there and establishing another stake of Zion. They could build homes, cultivate orchards and fields, and gather God’s people from around the world. And before long, the Lord’s house would be established in the mountains and exalted above the hills, just as Isaiah had prophesied.32
Brigham could not see the valley clearly, so Wilford turned the carriage to give his friend a better view. Looking out across the valley, Brigham studied it for several minutes.33
“It is enough. This is the right place,” he told Wilford. “Drive on.”34
Brigham had recognized the spot as soon as he saw it. At the north end of the valley was the mountain peak from his vision. Brigham had prayed to be led directly to that place, and the Lord had answered his prayers. He saw no need to look elsewhere.35
Below, the valley floor was already alive with activity. Even before Brigham, Wilford, and Heber Kimball descended the mountain, Orson Pratt, Erastus Snow, and other men had established a base camp and begun plowing fields, planting crops, and irrigating the land. Wilford joined them as soon as he reached the camp, planting half a bushel of potatoes before eating his evening meal and settling in for the night.
The following day was the Sabbath, and the Saints gave thanks to the Lord. The company met to hear sermons and partake of the sacrament. Though feeble, Brigham spoke briefly to encourage the Saints to keep the Sabbath, take care of the land, and respect each other’s property.
On the morning of Monday, July 26, Brigham was still convalescing in Wilford’s carriage when he turned to Wilford and said, “Brother Woodruff, I want to take a walk.”
“All right,” Wilford said.36
They set out that morning with eight other men, traveling toward the mountains to the north. Brigham rode in Wilford’s carriage part of the way, his hands clutching a green cloak around his shoulders. Before they reached the foothills, the ground leveled off into a plain, and Brigham stepped out of the carriage and walked slowly over the light, rich soil.
As the men followed Brigham, admiring the land, he stopped suddenly and thrust his cane into the ground. “Here shall stand the temple of our God,” he said.37 He could already see a vision of it in front of him, its six spires rising up from the valley floor.38
Brigham’s words struck Wilford like lightning. The men were about to walk on, but Wilford asked them to wait. He broke off a branch from a nearby sagebrush and drove it into the ground to mark the spot.
The men then continued on, envisioning the city the Saints would build in the valley.39
Later that day, Brigham pointed at the mountain peak north of the valley. “I want to go up on that peak,” he said, “for I feel fully satisfied that that was the point shown me in the vision.” The round, rocky peak was easy to climb and clearly visible from all parts of the valley. It was an ideal place to raise an ensign to the nations, signaling to the world that the kingdom of God was again on the earth.
Brigham set out immediately for the summit with Wilford, Heber Kimball, Willard Richards, and others. Wilford was the first to reach the top. From the peak, he could see the valley spread out before him.40 With its high mountains and spacious plain, this valley could keep the Saints safe from their enemies as they tried to live the laws of God, gather Israel, build another temple, and establish Zion. In his meetings with the Twelve and the Council of Fifty, Joseph Smith had often expressed his desire to find such a place for the Saints.41
Wilford’s friends soon joined him. They called the place Ensign Peak, evoking Isaiah’s prophecy that the outcasts of Israel and the dispersed of Judah would assemble from the four corners of the earth under a common banner.42
Someday they wanted to fly a massive flag over the peak. But for now, they did their best to mark the occasion. What happened is uncertain, but one man recalled that Heber Kimball took out a yellow bandana, tied it to the end of Willard Richards’s cane, and waved it back and forth in the warm mountain air.43

I recall a day when one of our children was leaving for school with his friend. I waved good-bye and called out, “Remember who you are.” As they walked away, I overheard the friend ask, “Why does your mother always say that to you? What does she mean?” I heard our son’s quick reply, “She means, ‘Be good.’” He was exactly right. We remember who we are by doing good, and we do good when we remember who we are.

Zachary didn’t want to be a Wise Man in the Church Christmas pageant.
“Wise Men wear crowns,” said his father, and he tried on Zachary’s crown. It was too small.
“Can Mr. Bear be a Wise Man, too?” Zachary asked, trying the crown on his teddy bear. It was too big.
“You’ll have to ask your teacher,” his mother said. “But the crown doesn’t fit him.” She put the crown on Zachary’s head. It fit just right.
The next evening Zachary watched the people coming to the meetinghouse to see the pageant. “Mr. Bear doesn’t like Christmas pageants,” he said.
“Mr. Bear will be very brave,” Father said.
“Mr. Bear needs a hug,” Mother said, giving him one on the spot. Since Zachary was holding Mr. Bear, they both got hugged.
Zachary went to the Relief Society room, where everyone was getting ready. It seemed like a long time before the teacher whispered, “The Wise Men are next. Don’t forget your presents.”
“Mr. Bear is scared,” Zachary said to himself and held him tightly.
The first Wise Man walked out with his present. Baby Jesus, who was really baby Sarah, pushed it away. When the next Wise Man held out his present, Sarah began to cry.
Zachary walked over to baby Sarah. He couldn’t give her his Wise Man present because he had left it in the Relief Society room. But he’d thought of an even better present.
“Mr. Bear is scared, too,” he whispered to her, “but he is being brave.” Zachary gave her the teddy bear.
Baby Sarah stopped crying. She held Mr. Bear tightly.
Zachary could see his mother and father smiling at him as everyone began to sing “Joy to the World.”
“I liked being a Wise Man after all,” Zachary said to his parents after the pageant, “but I forgot the present.”
“You were a wonderful Wise Man,” said Father.
“You were the very best Wise Man you could be,” said Mother.
“Mr. Bear was a good gift, too,” Zachary said. Then he gave Mother his crown and went to find Mr. Bear.