Gospel Story Finder

Many years ago, on my first visit to the fabled village of Sauniatu in Samoa, so loved by President David O. McKay, my wife and I met with a large gathering of small children—nearly 200 in number. At the conclusion of our messages to these shy yet beautiful youngsters, I suggested to the native Samoan teacher that we go forward with the closing exercises. As he announced the final hymn, I suddenly felt compelled to greet personally each of these children. My watch revealed that the time was too short for such a privilege, for we were scheduled on a flight out of the country, so I discounted the impression. Before the benediction was to be spoken, I again felt that I should shake the hand of each child. I made the desire known to the instructor, who displayed a broad and beautiful Samoan smile. In Samoan, he announced this to the children. They beamed their approval.

The instructor then revealed to me the reason for his and their joy. He said, “When we learned that a member of the Council of the Twelve was to visit us here in Samoa, so far away from Church headquarters, I told the children if they would earnestly and sincerely pray and exert faith like the Bible accounts of old, that the Apostle would visit our tiny village at Sauniatu and through their faith he would be impressed to greet each child with a personal handclasp.” Tears could not be restrained as the precious boys and girls walked shyly by and whispered softly to us the sweet Samoan greeting “talofa lava.” A profound expression of faith had been evidenced.

The Evans family was finally moving out of the house on our homestead farm in New Mexico.
“I wish they’d hurry and leave so we can move in,” Ed said as we watched from the barn roof. No one but Papa had seen the inside of the house.
“I wonder if they’ll leave anything,” Caroline said.
“Probably not.”
“The Caldwells found all sorts of good things left in their house,” I put in.
“Like what?”
“A table and some fruit jars.”
“And a pretty good harness in the barn.”
“Don’t forget the stove. They left a good stove,” I added.
“The oven has to be propped up,” Caroline reminded us.
“It’s still good.”
By the time the Evanses had finished loading their belongings onto the wagon and started out the gate, it didn’t seem likely that anything could be left. We slid down the smooth board and ran to look inside. The house was completely empty except for one thing.
“A high chair!” Caroline exclaimed. “Look at that. Georgie can have a high chair.”
“But we don’t even have a table,” I complained.
“Papa will make us one,” she said. “Let’s go ask him.”

My 15-year-old son was excited about the many things going on in his life—friends, skateboards, cars, and his learner’s driving permit. He was not, however, excited about his responsibilities as a home teacher.
My heart sank one Sunday when he said, “Home teaching is a waste of time. I’m going to call my adviser and tell him that he needs to get someone else because I’m never going home teaching again!”
Before he had the opportunity to find his priesthood adviser’s name in the ward directory, however, the telephone rang. It was his newly assigned home teaching companion, Brother Bernd Suckow, who spoke with a thick German accent.
“Toby, I’m coming to get you right now,” he said. “You are my new companion, and I thought we could make a few visits. It is good? OK. Good-bye.”
Brother Suckow was either inspired not to wait for a response, or he assumed that Toby’s surprised silence was synonymous with consent. Either way, 10 minutes later there came a knock at the door. Before Toby could protest, an ebullient man had pulled him outside and stuffed a set of car keys into his hand.
“Your name is Toby? Nice to meet you,” Brother Suckow said. “Toby, it is the Sabbath, and I test-drive cars for a living. I think it is not so good for me to drive on the Sabbath since it is my vocation. Can you help me out? Do you have a driving permit? Can you drive us to our home teaching appointments?”
Toby’s jaw dropped as he saw the late-model sports car that Brother Suckow was test-driving that week. He quickly realized that he had almost lost what promised to be a memorable home teaching assignment.
When they returned a short while later, Toby showed Brother Suckow some new computer equipment, and they were soon talking about the latest trends in technology. When he left, Brother Suckow said, “I think it is good if we finish up our home teaching visits next Sunday. What do you think, Toby?”
Toby’s little brother blurted out, “Can I be a home teacher too?”
Toby never hesitated when it came time to home teach with Brother Suckow. After a few months, home teaching was no longer about the nice cars he had the opportunity to drive. Rather, Brother Suckow had become a genuine friend, and Toby learned how important home teaching was to the families they visited.
Brother Suckow and his wife, Barbara, eventually returned to Germany. Our stake misses them greatly. I will never forget Brother Suckow’s powerful example of love for a young man whose testimony of home teaching needed a jump start.

Reese’s nose is cold, but the sunshine warms her face.
She spots a cheerful bird hopping across the snow. Chirp, chirp!
Reese sees the glow of a red and orange sunset.
Tree shadows dance across the ground.
Reese smiles up at the sparkling stars and shining moon.
Reese thanks Heavenly Father for the beautiful day and the beautiful night.

Will Mary, the mother of the Babe, Jesus, born in Bethlehem away from home, please come to the witness stand?
While she is coming to the stand, let me explain: I am pretending that you are an informal court in which Jesus is on trial—should I say on trial again, or still on trial?
In the minds of many people, Jesus is still on trial. Two-thirds of this earth’s inhabitants are non-Christian. To them, he is not the Son of God. Among the skimpy Christian third are many who accept him merely as a great moralist, a great teacher, a great spiritual leader, perhaps a prophet. To them, he is not the Son of God.
On trial 2,000 years ago, Jesus said: “I am the Son of God.” With cries of “Crucify him, crucify him,” the earlier court of the people—the rabble—sealed his doom.
If Jesus is not the Son of God, he blasphemed; he also lied. Why not compound the charge of blasphemy with perjury? Add fraud, deceit, or whatever else you will; the truth must come out, for every knee must bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is the Son of God.
Let me pretend that I am counsel of the defense, calling witnesses to prove that he is the Son of God. Now stretch your imagination and in your mind’s eye see Mary on the witness stand. I shall now address her.
Counsel: Mary, when you were “a virgin, espoused to … Joseph, of the House of David,” an angel came unto you. Will you please tell the court what the angel said to you?
Witness: He said, “Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with God.
“And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus.
“He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest.” (See Luke 1:30–32.)
Counsel: Thank you, Mary. That will be all.
My next witness is one John, descriptively cited in the scriptures as John the Baptist. Jesus came to Jordan to be baptized by John, and “when he was baptized; … the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him:
“And lo a voice from heaven, saying …”—John, you heard the voice. Please tell us what it said.
Witness: I heard a voice saying, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.” (Matt. 3:13–17.) “And I saw, and bare record that this is the Son ofGod.” (John 1:33.)
Counsel: My next witness may shock you as you see him come to the stand. He “had his dwelling among the tombs; and no man could bind him, no, not with chains:
“… neither could any man tame him.” Unclean spirits possessed him—spirits that undoubtedly were cast out of heaven with Lucifer, for they remembered Jesus. “But when he [the wild man] saw Jesus afar off, he ran and worshipped him.
“And cried with a loud voice, and said”—the witness may now repeat what you said.
Witness: I said, “What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the most high God? I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not.” And Jesus said to the spirit, “Come out of the man,” and many devilish spirits did come out. “And all the devils besought him, saying, Send us into the swine, that we may enter into them.” (See Mark 5:2–12.)
Counsel: Thank you, sir. You may leave to go your way.
Nathanael, a friend of Jesus, may now come to the witness stand. It is rumored about that a man named Philip told you, Nathanael, about finding down in Nazareth the man whom Moses and the prophets wrote about. Will you please confirm that rumor and relate your conversation with Philip?
Witness: I said, “Can there any good thing come out of Nazareth?” Philip answered me and said, “Come and see.” So I went to see, and I saw Jesus, and I said to him, “Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel.” (See John 1:45–49.)
Counsel: Thank you, Nathanael. You are excused.
Another very close friend of Jesus will now take the stand. Martha, will you please step up? Martha sorrowed because Jesus arrived at her home too late to heal her sick brother, Lazarus, who died and was laid away before Jesus arrived. Tell us, Martha, what Jesus said and did upon arrival.
Witness: He said, “I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live:
“And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?” I said to him, “Yea, Lord: I believe that thou art Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world.” Then at the cave where Lazarus lay, “he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.
“And he that was dead came forth.” (See John 11:25–44.)
Counsel: That will be all, Martha. You may step down.
To “be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach” (Mark 3:14), Jesus chose and ordained twelve apostles.
Three of these apostles, Peter, James, and John, were given a marvelous experience that made them very special witnesses of the Lord in his day—and, may I add, very special witnesses also this day, in this court. Will the apostle James be first—and will you please confine your testimony to that marvelous experience on the “high mountain” where Jesus, according to the record, “was transfigured” before you and John and Peter? You may delete reference to Moses and Elias, whom you saw there. Just tell what the voice said about Jesus.
Witness: There was a cloud that overshadowed us, “and a voice came out of the cloud, saying, This is my beloved Son: hear him.” (See Mark 9:2–7.)
Counsel: That will do, James. Thank you.
Now will John, the beloved disciple, please come forward. While he is coming, may I say that this witness wrote a book with the apparent intent of revealing Jesus to be the Christ, the Son of God. Am I right, John? Why did you write your book?
Witness: I wrote “that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name.” (John 20:31.)
Counsel: Is there anything else you would like to say, John?
Witness: Only this: “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16.)
Counsel: Thank you, John. You may step down.
The tall, rugged man now approaching the witness stand is the apostle Peter, a man of action and few words. His testimony, like those of his associates James and John, deserves profound consideration. When you hear it you will agree, I am sure. You may proceed, Peter. Need I say, be brief?—please.
Witness: Jesus once asked his disciples, “Whom do men say that I the Son of man am?
“And they said, Some say that thou art John the Baptist: some, Elias; and others, Jeremias, or one of the prophets.
“… But whom say ye that I am?
“And [I] Simon Peter answered and said, Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” (Matt. 16:13–16.)
Counsel: Thank you, Peter. You are excused.
My next witness begged for the privilege of testifying. He said that he might have some peace of mind were he accorded the privilege. Will the centurion who assisted in the crucifixion of the Master—as a matter of duty—and who “stood over against him, saw that he so cried out, and gave up the ghost,” please step up and repeat what you said when the Lord did give up the ghost.
Witness: I said, “Truly this man was the Son of God.” (Mark 15:39.)
Counsel: Thank you, Centurion. May God grant you peace of mind.
From another quarter, I bring one more ancient witness. This witness is Nephi, a disciple of the Lord on the American continent among the Nephites and Lamanites. Nephi, like the apostle John, also wrote a book to show that Jesus was the Son of God. He witnessed the appearance of our Lord upon the American continent after his resurrection, and he will now give a brief recital of that wonderful event.
Witness: I “heard a voice as if it came out of heaven; … it was not a harsh voice, neither was it a loud voice. …”
And it said, “Behold my Beloved Son, … in whom I have glorified my name—hear ye him.” (See 3 Ne. 11:3–7.) I also heard Jesus say, “Behold, I am Jesus Christ the Son of God. I created the heavens and the earth, and all things that in them are. I was with the Father from the beginning.” (3 Ne. 9:15.)
Counsel: From still another quarter and from a much later time, I shall produce two very important witnesses. Sidney Rigdon, will you be first, and will you please relate the marvelous experience you had on February 16, 1832? Proceed with brevity, please.
Witness: While we were doing the work of translation, “the Lord touched the eyes of our understandings and they were opened,
“And we beheld the glory of the Son, on the right hand of the Father. …
“… we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard the voice bearing record that heis the Only Begotten of the Father.” (D&C 76:19–23.)
Counsel: That will do, Mr. Rigdon.
Will he who shared this marvelous experience with you please take the stand. It is with great pleasure that I present to the court the great American Prophet, Joseph Smith, who went to the Lord in prayer and asked—President Smith, this is your story: please take over and be brief.
Witness: My object in going to inquire of the Lord was to know which of all the sects was right. I kneeled down and began to offer up the desire of my heart to God. I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head. “When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description. … One of them spake unto me, … and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!” (See JS—H 1:14–18.)
Counsel: That will be all, President Smith. Now, if you will step down, I will take your place and bear my humble witness.
To whom it may concern—and may it concern men everywhere:
Unlike the Prophet Joseph, I have never had the heavens opened to me nor have I in this mortal sphere ever physically walked and talked with Jesus, yet I know that he is the Christ, the Son of God, and I know this because of the ministration of the Holy Ghost unto me.
Now, may it please the Court, I rest my case. I have submitted twelve solid witnesses—all that my limited time will permit. If, after hearing their testimonies, there are those who are still reluctant to accept Jesus as the Son of God and who still prefer to accept his teachings as man-made philosophy rather than God’s truth, they would do well to ponder studiously the foregoing testimonies.
In early Israel, Moses established, under God, a law of witnesses, namely: “In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established.” (See Deut. 17:6.) This became the Jewish law in the days of our Lord.
The early Common Law of England, after which our law is patterned, required twelve witnesses to the fact—and twelve jurors to the fact, and these jurors were supposed to know something about the case.
I have given you twelve witnesses. If you will accept them also as jurors, the verdict is plain: Jesus Christ is the Son of God!

Little did Petre realize all this festival day would bring, when he carefully laid out his dance costume on his bed that morning. First, he would be allowed to herd the family sheep to the meadows in the Romanian highlands by himself and bring them back again. Getting ready for the Shepherd’s Dance meant that the men needed to stay in town, so the task of grazing the sheep today was left to the children.
Since this was a holiday, the children were to bring the sheep back early in the afternoon so that the youngsters could join in the festivities. As Petre moved the flock from the pen, the bell on the lead ram tinkled pleasantly. Petre’s fervent dream was to have his own flock one day.
“Don’t forget, Petre,” called his friend Josif as he moved his own family’s sheep onto the road, “we bring back the sheep at one o’clock. I heard that the tourists at Sibiu are going to come over to watch the dancing.” Then with a grin he gibed, “I’m going to dance your legs off!” Josif always acted as though dancing was a contest.
Petre, who danced because he loved to, retorted, “Go ahead and try!”
Ana led her family’s sheep out after Josif’s. She didn’t have any brothers, and she claimed to be the first shepherdess in the area.
One by one the three flocks ambled down the dusty road. The blessings of spring had filled the meadows with blades of tender grass. The scent of wild flowers filled the air, and the creek sparkled with clear mountain water.
Soon the flocks reached the meadows. As they grazed, Petre sat under an oak tree and thought about the festival. The women of the village had already spent many hours preparing the special festival food. The men were now setting up long tables under a grape arbor to hold the delicacies. They were also decorating the cobblestone streets with ribbons and lanterns. During the festivities the women would wear elaborately embroidered costumes; the men would wear belted white trousers, embroidered tunics, and leggings with bells that jingled. The dancers’ shoes would be of soft leather, and the captivating Romanian folk tunes would be played by shepherds on their flutes. The dancers would cry out, slap their ankles and thighs, and leap gracefully into the air as they followed the intricate figures of the dance.
“Will one o’clock ever get here?” Petre sighed. Glancing at his flock, he noticed that a sheep had strayed. He whistled, and his dog, Tofan, quickly brought the ewe back to the group.
In Petre’s village, sons had followed their fathers as shepherds for many, many generations. As each boy was ready for the responsibility, he was given three sheep to start a flock of his own.
Petre recalled his father saying, “Son, there is more to tending sheep than watching them eat grass. You must watch for ailing sheep and recognize what caused the sickness. Ewes need special care when they are lambing. Fleece must be sheared without injury to the animal. Always know the exact number of sheep in your flock and where they are. Most of all, Son, you must realize that sheep are a gift from God and that they are only one of His many wondrous creations. Earthly rewards will never cease as long as you respect all living things as part of one large family.”
Petre was glad when the sun passed its highest point and was starting its downward track. He whistled, and Tofan started the flock toward home. From the dust cloud ahead on the road, Petre knew Josif and Ana were ahead of him. As he neared the village sheepyard, he could hear Ana insisting, “I still think I’m missing a sheep.”
“You could have miscounted,” suggested Josif.
“No, I’ve counted twice. We can’t leave one out there. Anything can happen to it.”
“We already looked for it once,” complained Josif. “We’ll have time to check again after the dance. It will still be daylight. Come on,” he urged, “or we’ll miss the dancing.”
Petre watched them run toward the village green. The music from the shepherds’ flutes was melodic and clear. Its rhythmic beat touched every muscle in his body, and he wanted to spring into a dance. But he couldn’t go and enjoy the festivities knowing that there might be a lost sheep somewhere.
“Come, Tofan,” Petre called. “Let’s see if there is a sheep out there. If we hurry, we can get back before all the dancing is over.”
The boy and the dog ran down the dusty road toward the meadows, with Tofan sniffing along the way. After searching for some time, Petre declared, “Tofan, we haven’t found it, but somehow I’m sure there is a sheep out here somewhere.”
The dog seemed to understand and went with Petre to search in the foothills. Finally, in a shallow gully hidden by tall grass, they found a ewe that had just given birth.
“We can’t go home yet, Tofan,” Petre said as he sat down by the sheep. “We must wait until they are strong enough to go.”
The dog wagged his tail, then waited patiently beside the boy.
The ewe seemed comforted by their presence. Petre was glad he had come, even though he was aching to dance. He knew he could not get back in time now.
The ewe went on licking her newborn. Finally she nudged the lamb to its feet. A kind of joy swept over Petre as he cradled the lamb in his arms. “Come, Tofan,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
The dog guided the ewe in the right direction.
Not far from the village Petre saw the three fathers coming toward him. He knew that they had been at the pen to check their sheep and had realized that one was missing.
“I’m proud of you, Son,” his father greeted him.
Ana’s father stepped forward. “Petre,” he said, taking the lamb, “because of what you did, I am going to give this lamb to you as soon as it is weaned.”
Petre swallowed hard. His heart was beating so hard that it felt as though it might leap out of his chest.
“And I,” said Josif’s father, “will give you the next ewe born in my flock.”
Petre could hardly believe what he was hearing. He expected to wake up and find it was all a dream.
His father spoke up then. “And I will give you a baby ram.”
“Oh, Papa!” cried Petre. “My very own flock!”
“Come, Son,” said his father, “run on ahead of us and put on your costume. There’s still time for some dancing.”
The shepherds’ flutes were never more melodious. With the bells on his leggings jingling to his favorite Romanian tune, Petre danced until his legs ached.
That night Petre put his costume carefully away. In the morning he would wake up and remember that he soon would have a flock of his own. His dream was coming true!

Nichole Ricketts of Rio Vista, California, has undertaken a unique assignment. She and her mother teach refusal skills to elementary and junior high school students. Refusal skills are ways students can avoid trouble. She took special training with her mother where they learned ways of role playing and the social skills students need to learn to stay out of dangerous and disruptive activities. Their classes are so successful that they have been selected as a model for other school districts.
Nikki is also active in the Rio Vista Branch, Davis California Stake. She serves as president of her Laurel class and of her seminary class. She also serves as the branch librarian in addition to substitute teaching in Primary.
In school, Nikki is a member of the girls’ volleyball, baseball, and basketball teams. She is an excellent student and participates in chorus and Future Homemakers of America.

A stake president in Logan, Utah, kept a guest book, and after he passed away that book was given to his son. When the son thumbed through the pages, he was impressed with the signatures that were there. Most of the General Authorities had signed the book. One entry he saw was:
Name: Elder Spencer W. Kimball
Date: 1954
Position or title: Apostle
Hobby: “I love people.”

He thumbed through many more pages, and then he saw an almost identical entry ten years later:
Name: Elder Spencer W. Kimball
Date: 1964
Position or title: Apostle
Hobby: “I love people.”

“Hey, Coach,” he called as I was working with the senior shot putters and discus throwers. I ignored him.
“Hey, Coach Crowe,” he persisted, “that other coach over there said I should come over here and throw. He said you should watch me.”
I turned around and looked at the kid. His black hair hung unevenly over his forehead, his bony shoulders angled out of his baggy tank top, and his long skinny arms hung low, almost to his knees. When the wind blew, his practice uniform flapped around his bony frame like clothes on a scarecrow. He was obviously a freshman.
In his right hand he held a discus, the black rubber kind we issued to beginning throwers. “You wanna watch me throw?” he asked.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“Darwin Hughes.”
“Where’d you get that discus, Hughes? You’re too small to be a weight man.”
“Well, Coach,” he answered, “I like throwing, and I’m pretty good. If you’ll watch me, I’ll …”
“Not now, Hughes. I’m working with the seniors. Tell you what, go over to that discus ring over there,” I pointed to the opposite end of the field, “and you throw. I’ll come down in a little while and see how you’re doing, okay?”
“Sure, Coach.” He turned and loped off to the other end of the practice field.
I went back to work with my seniors. Boy, these freshmen, I thought. Why are they so goofy? That kid has as much chance of becoming a discus thrower as I do of becoming president of the United States.
Practice went pretty much as usual that day, and I was too busy with my seniors to find the time to go watch Hughes. The next two days he hung around the throwing areas, and each time I banished him to the opposite end of the field to throw by himself so he couldn’t bother me as I worked with the upperclassmen.
Finally, on the fourth day, some of the throwers came to see me. “Hey, Coach,” said one, “have you seen that freshman throw yet?”
“You mean that scrawny little kid Hughes? I can’t believe he’s still wasting his time. Look, if you guys want to throw down there, just tell him to go work with the distance runners. He’d have a better chance of making the team with them.”
“But, Coach,” interrupted one of them, “maybe you ought to see him throw. He’s throwing over 130 feet.”
That got my attention; 130 feet would make him the number two thrower on my varsity squad. These guys must be pulling my leg, I thought. But I’d better go down and watch, just to make sure.
By the time I got down there, a little crowd had gathered around the discus ring. In the center stood Hughes, just beginning another throw. He held his arms out, bent his knees, spun twice through the ring, and launched a throw that was easily 130 feet.
After he finished his throw, he looked over at me and grinned sheepishly, as if I had caught him doing something wrong. “Come here, Hughes,” I said. He trotted over. “Where’d you learn to throw like that?”
“I dunno, Coach. I threw a little bit in eighth grade, but mainly I just like to throw.”
“Tell you what, Hughes,” I said as I put my arm around his shoulder, “from now on you can throw down at the other end with the upperclassmen so I can watch you a little more.”
Never let it be said that I didn’t recognize talent when it hit me in the face.
By his sophomore year, Darwin had developed into a fine discus thrower. He won nearly every dual meet and placed in every prestigious invitational meet he attended. At five-foot-nine, 145 pounds, Darwin looked out of place among the Goliaths of the shot put and discus rings, and many times when he first began competing on the varsity, throwers from other schools would laugh at skinny Darwin Hughes. Their laughter, however, changed to amazement as soon as he took his first warm-up throw.
By the end of his sophomore year, no one laughed at him anymore because little Darwin finished third in the state championships by throwing 165 feet, two inches.
In his junior and senior seasons, the littlest weight man was the best thrower in Arizona. Spectators, coaches, and other throwers marveled at how such a small thrower (by his senior year Darwin was five-foot-ten, 165 pounds) could throw a discus more than 185 feet and a 12-pound shot more than 57 feet. And I have to admit, even as his coach, I was often amazed at all Darwin accomplished. I’m convinced that, considering his size, Darwin was the best high school weight man in the United States.
People would often ask me, “How does he do it? What’s Hughes’s secret?” I wish I could have answered that Darwin owed all his success to me, but that wasn’t true. First of all, Darwin had some inherent ability, some natural skill for what he was trying to do. Based on that ability, he then applied some basic principles of success.
Second, he had a desire to excel, to be the best discus thrower he could possibly be. “Coach,” he told me one day at practice, “I don’t know how far I can throw, but I’m going to do everything I can to be one of the best weight men Arizona has ever had.”
At the time he was only a sophomore, and considering his size, I was afraid he was setting his goals too high. “Look, Darwin, you’re doing super right now. You should feel great about what you’ve already accomplished. This is a big man’s sport, so with your size, you can’t expect to get much better.”
“But, Coach, I know I can do better. I just know it.” He was right. The next year, Darwin improved his best throw by 20 feet.
But it wasn’t only his drive to excel that helped Darwin succeed. He also believed in himself. Ignored by his own coach as a freshman, scoffed at by competitors as a sophomore, Darwin remained convinced that he could and would be successful. Near the end of his senior season I asked him why he didn’t give up during those first years. He shrugged and explained, “When no one else believes in you, you’ve got to believe in yourself.”
Confidence alone, however, wasn’t enough to make a mountain of a thrower out of a molehill of a boy. Darwin was a dedicated, hard worker. Every day he’d be out to practice a half hour early, throwing by himself. And on most spring afternoons and evenings, he and I would be the only ones left on the practice field, working on his technique until it was too dark to see anymore. Darwin would even spend hours on Saturdays throwing and throwing and throwing.
I’ve never coached an athlete who worked harder than Darwin, and I’ve never coached an athlete who was as successful as he was either. Someone said once, “If you want to be a superstar, you’ve got to start early and stay late.” That was certainly true for Darwin.
But all his hard work wasn’t without direction. Darwin listened intently to every coaching tip he ever received and worked diligently to turn that advice into improvement. When I asked Darwin to do something differently or advised him to spend more time in the weight room, he’d say, “Okay, Coach,” and he’d do it.
Darwin also studied his event. He poured through every track-and-field textbook in our school’s library and was able to quote extensively from the Track and Field News about recent events and technique development. He read coaching journals, sports pages, and anything else that might have a bit of information he could use to become a better weight man. By the time he graduated, Darwin knew more about his event than I did.
And finally, Darwin followed great examples. As a freshman and sophomore, he would carefully watch and study the throwing methods of the leading weight men in the state. As he increased his knowledge, he began to attend college meets to study the methods of collegiate weight men. He even talked me into ordering films of the world’s greatest discus throwers, and he spent hours watching them.
His talents and his efforts made Darwin Hughes the best weight man ever at our high school and ranked him as the fifth best discus thrower in the history of Arizona. All at five-foot-ten, 165 pounds.

Joseph Smith was taught the consequences for yielding to the pressures of his benefactor, friend, and scribe Martin Harris. In response to Martin’s pleas, Joseph asked the Lord for permission to loan the first 116 manuscript pages of the Book of Mormon so that Martin could show them to his family, but the Lord told Joseph to say no. Martin pleaded with Joseph to ask the Lord again. After Joseph’s third request the Lord gave permission for five specific people to review the manuscript. “In a most solemn covenant Martin bound himself to this agreement. When he arrived home, and pressure was brought to bear upon him, he forgot his solemn oath and permitted others to view the manuscript, with the result that by stratagem it passed out of his hands,” and it was lost. As a consequence, Joseph was rebuked by the Lord and was denied permission to continue to translate the Book of Mormon. Joseph suffered and repented of his transgression of yielding to the pressures of others. After a season, Joseph was allowed to resume his translation work. Joseph learned a valuable lesson of obedience that served him the rest of his life!

For a long time the Baum family—Brandon (12), Amanda (9), Laura Lee (7), James (3), and their parents, Terry and Karla—had been working on their goal of going to the temple to be sealed. It wasn’t an easy goal, but something happened that made them realize just how important that goal was.
Sister Baum was going to have twins, and the family was eagerly awaiting their birth. But when the tiny boys were born, they weren’t very strong. One died right after birth, and the doctors and family didn’t expect two-pound James to live either. A priesthood blessing, however, and lots of prayers helped him survive.
Although it was a sad and difficult time for the family, when they learned that they could have their little brother who had died sealed to them forever, their goal to go to the temple grew stronger.

Amanda had many friends who watched videos after school. Some of the videos had scenes that Amanda wasn’t sure Heavenly Father or her parents would like, and she wondered if she should watch them.
____ Being with her friends was fun. The videos weren’t that bad, and she would be a part of the group. If she didn’t watch the videos, she might not have anything at all to do after school.
____ Amanda chose to watch the videos with her friends.
____ She prayed to know if her decision was right.
____ Amanda felt uneasy about her decision to watch the videos.

Kieryn Murrin, a Laurel from the Sydney suburb of Oatley, loves to study history in school, especially ancient history.
“History is relevant to our lives,” she says. “It helps us know who we are.”
So it’s not surprising that Kieryn chose a history-related Laurel project. But the history she’s researching isn’t ancient. In fact, Kieryn doesn’t have to look much beyond the walls of her own home to learn more about her subject.
“When I was six and my sister Lyndal was eight, she became ill and died two weeks later. For my project I’m gathering and organizing things that have to do with her life,” she says.
As Kieryn has worked on her project, she has spent considerable time looking through the journals, photos, letters, cards, and school papers that the family kept when Lyndal died. It gives her a feeling of closeness to a sibling who has now been gone for nearly 10 years.
“We always talked about Lyndal,” Kieryn says, “but as I’m working on this project I think of more specific questions to ask. I feel like I really understand a lot more about her and what she was like when she was alive.”
Kieryn says she not only feels closer to Lyndal, but also to the rest of her family, especially her mom (who has helped a great deal with the project) and her younger brother, Cameron.
“Knowing about the plan of salvation, and talking about it, is very important to our family,” says Kieryn.

Thoughts, ideas, emotions
(Each a different fish)
Are swimming freely in my head.
And I, the fisherman,
Throwing out my net
In hope of catching something—
What rotten luck I’m having!

From 1833 to 1836, the focus of the Saints was the building of the Kirtland Temple (top inset), now owned by the Community of Christ. The Prophet’s brother Hyrum began the work by using a scythe to level the standing grain on the site while others took down the rails of a fence. Later, workers cut stone from a nearby quarry (center inset). Heavenly manifestations accompanied the temple dedication. On 3 April 1836, the Savior appeared in the temple to the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery. Then Moses, Elias, and Elijah appeared and restored priesthood keys.

President McKay was prepared for this work and responsibility from his earliest childhood in Huntsville, where he was taught by the example of his parents that the Lord and His work were to come first in a person’s life. When he was eight years old, his two older sisters died, and a short time later, his father was called on a two-year mission to Scotland. Sister McKay was to give birth to a baby girl in ten days, the farm had to be run, and the young family needed to be fed. It was a time of testing and of sacrifice—and David learned much about faith and commitment. As his father climbed on his horse to leave, he lifted young David up into his arms, kissed him good-bye, and said, “David, take care of Mama and the family.” From that day forward, David O. McKay developed an exceptional sense of responsibility.

War clouds covered America. South Carolina threatened to secede from the republic. The crisis deeply troubled Joseph Smith. He said that on Christmas Day 1832 he “was praying earnestly on the subject.” In answer, a voice revealed to him a “Revelation on Prophecy and War” (D&C 87), which begins: “Verily, thus saith the Lord concerning the wars that will shortly come to pass, beginning at the rebellion of South Carolina, which will eventually terminate in the death and misery of many souls.” Warfare and bloodshed, it added, then would become common throughout the world.

With this in mind and with eyes wet with tears, I remembered being told by one of our great South American stake presidents that when he comes to general conference in Salt Lake, he and his wife will have to decide which two of their five children they will bring to be sealed to them in the Salt Lake Temple. It takes forty-three soles to make one dollar. Now their plans have changed. They are planning to take all five children to the first temple in South America. His brother stake president in the same city has never had the privilege of being endowed and of being sealed to his wife and family in a temple.

Zoe and Michael are a couple with two young children. Before the fires, they were living in a small town in the Bega Valley called Cobargo. They had purchased a remote rural property complete with house and an orchard and were about to move in when the fires destroyed both their rural property and their house in Cobargo. Since the fires they have been living rough, camping in a borrowed caravan on the rural property. They received a water tank, a shed (donated by another group) and a bathroom pod built into the shed and connected to the water tank (which will be added to their house when it is rebuilt).
Even though the location of the shed and tank is quite a distance from their current camp, they are very appreciative as they can now bathe their children properly—one of whom had been regularly ill, and one who’d had a broken leg. They say that the newly donated infrastructure has helped to reduce their anxiety levels.
Mark and Denise noted, “During the inspection weekend, we were shown properties, such as Zoe and Michael’s, which had not only received one of our tanks, but the households had also received a bathroom pod and shed donated by another organisation that were willing to provide the pods because we had provided the tanks.”

Still, there were happy memories of his school days. Martin and several of his schoolmates formed a choir and sang Latin chants at St. George’s Church across the square from the school. Among Martin’s good friends at school were some older boys who would carry their young friend to school on their backs when the wintry roads became clogged with mud. Many years later, as a fond remembrance, Martin gave one of those boys a Bible in which he had written: “To my dear old friend, Nicolas Oemler, who often carried me, a schoolboy, on his back to and from school.”