Gospel Story Finder

Whenever I have been in the hospital someone in my family has been with me almost constantly, even when I was in the Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City. (My home is in Provo, about 45 miles away.) My mother even gave up going on a free cruise that my father was directing so that she could be with me while I was recuperating from one operation.
My mother is always here, 24 hours a day, for whatever I need. Whether it’s to rush me to the doctor or just comfort my sorrows, I always know she is near. It would be very difficult for me to try to get through a day without her loving care.

After I finished high school, I was working to save money for a mission. Soon my desire to serve a mission became lost because I enjoyed the money I was making. It would have been a sacrifice to go on a mission because the money I earned helped support my family. Each time I started filling out my mission forms, I thought about the money I would be giving up, and I dropped my forms and continued working.
As my friends left on missions, I felt bad because I knew I should also be getting ready to go. This caused me to examine myself. I thought, “Sustaining the prophet and my leaders is not just raising my right hand. It’s doing what they say and obeying our Heavenly Father’s commandments.”
Now was the time to serve a mission, so I submitted my mission papers to the bishop. It was the second happiest day of my life. The happiest was the day my bishop called me to his office and gave me a white envelope with my mission call to the Nigeria Ibadan Mission. My heart was full of joy.
In the missionary training center, I became better acquainted with the doctrines of the gospel and learned marvelous things. I was also able to receive my endowment in the temple. I am so grateful for my decision to come on a mission, and I have never regretted it. I too have grown spiritually on my mission. I believe it is because I am helping people receive the same gospel blessings that have brought so much happiness to me and my family.

An example of a child listening happened in a fabric store. The store was crowded with shoppers when it became obvious to everyone that a mother was panicked because she had lost her young son. At first, she was calling his name. “Connor,” she would say as she briskly walked around the store. As time passed, her voice got louder and more frantic. Soon the store security officers were notified, and everyone in the store was involved in looking for the child. Several minutes passed with no success of finding him. Connor’s mother, understandably, was becoming more frantic by the minute and was rapidly yelling his name over and over again.

One patron, after saying a silent prayer, had the thought that Connor may be frightened as he listened to his mother scream his name. She mentioned this to another woman involved in the search, and they quickly made a plan. Together they began to walk between the tables of fabric, quietly repeating the words “Connor, if you can hear my voice, say, ‘Here I am.’” As they walked slowly toward the back of the store repeating that phrase, sure enough, they heard a timid, soft voice say, “Here I am.” Connor was hiding between the bolts of fabric under a table. It was a voice of perfect mildness that encouraged Connor to respond.

One of the greatest lessons in devotion to the gospel came when George T. Benson received a mission call. “I was about thirteen years of age when father received a call to go on a mission. He went, leaving mother at home with seven children. The eighth was born four months after he arrived in the field, but never did we hear a murmur of complaint from Mother; she was so supportive of Father.

“The letters we received from Father were indeed a blessing. They seemed to us children to come halfway around the world, but they were only from across the country. There came into our home, as a result, a spirit of missionary work that has never left it.

“Father returned home and while we would sit each day milking the cows, he would sing over and over again, ‘Ye Elders of Israel,’ ‘Israel, Israel, God Is Calling,’ ‘Come All Ye Sons of God,’ ‘Ye Who Are Called to Labor,’ until I learned every word of several of these great missionary songs. Today I don’t need a songbook when we sing these great songs that Father sang to us morning and evening.”

A student who sat in the back of my classroom, walked in one day wearing a Quicksilver surfing t-shirt with the words "Eddie would go". He was a rather quiet student, but when I asked about his shirt, he explained. "Sister Bergstrom there is an important story about this I need to tell you."

This is a man who understood and believed. Eddie Aikau was a great surfer and a lifeguard legend in Hawaii. The saying came from the fact that Eddie would go when no one else would, or could. Eddie just did. In 1968 he became the first lifeguard hired by the City and County of Honolulu to work on the North Shore. Not one life was lost while he served as lifeguard of Waimea Bay, as he braved waves that often reached 30 feet high or more. In 1971 Eddie Aikau was named Lifeguard of the Year. He loved guarding when he wasn't surfing and chasing the waves himself.

Tragically, he lost his life in 1978, at the age of 31 during a voluntary re-creation of the Polynesian voyage between Hawaii and Tahiti. In huge seas, the voyaging canoe capsized. Eddie paddled off on a surfboard in an attempt to reach help for his fellow crewman. He was never seen again, but his spirit and legacy of how "Eddie Would Go" lives on.

At the end of 2014, I read Doctrine and Covenants 31:2–3 that states. “I will bless you and your family . . . and the day cometh that they will believe and know the truth and be one with you in my church.
“Lift up your heart and rejoice, for the hour of your mission is come; and your tongue shall be loosed, and you shall declare glad tidings of great joy unto this generation.”
I knew that I had to fulfill the priesthood duty by serving a full-time mission. I informed my siblings and my mother of my desire to serve. My mother initially opposed the idea and threatened to disown me if I left. Through prayer and fasting, she eventually relented. I was called to serve in the Accra Ghana Mission, and the promise of seeing my father again became a reality after he was baptized by proxy in the Accra Ghana Temple.

It may have happened several months ago, but being part of the Masskara opening number for the cultural show we staged during the welcome dinner for the Tabernacle Choir in February and during the area broadcast with Elder and Sister Stevenson in May still inspires me.
Looking back, I had to sacrifice my weekends to attend the practices. There were times when I felt so tired, especially since I had to juggle family, a ton of school work, and practices while also waking up early, traveling, dealing with sore muscles, and more.
Despite this, I knew that I was doing it for the Lord and that all of my efforts would be worth it. I felt the Lord’s hand every step of the way. On top of that, I got to know so many people, built unexpected friendships, and had so much fun!
We were only given less than two months to practice compared to previous cultural presentations which had several months of preparation, so I was amazed that we were able to learn the steps quickly. I was also inspired by the hard work of those around me, especially the trainers and those who arranged the show.
They were sacrificing so much of their time and effort (to the point that some even sacrificed their sleep), and they were so patient with us. They cared for each one of us. I felt this the most when our trainers gave each of us awards that were well thought out and personalized, which deeply touched my heart. Our trainers also pushed for us to bond with one another, and I think this bond we have with our fellow dancers would not exist without them.
On the day of the performance, we all gave our best. When I saw how the Tabernacle Choir members enjoyed our performances so much, and how they were moved to tears, it made me feel that all of the efforts and sacrifices we made were worth it. I was also surprised and moved to tears when they sang a song for us. It was such a memorable experience for me. That moment felt like we were Zion—of one heart and of one mind, all worshipping the Lord, all united by music. Nothing can replace the sacredness and joy that I felt that night.
Three months later, we performed our Masskara dance again, this time with Elder and Sister Stevenson, the Area Presidency and their wives, and the entire country as the show and the devotional were broadcast live! We experienced the same high, this time brought about by the inspiring words of Elder and Sister Stevenson. They counseled us to P.R.O. every day: Pray over and over, Read time after time, and Obey again and again.
My Masskara co-dancers and I have been trying to apply the things we learned during our rehearsal period and our recent performances, and today I am happy to note that among the Masskara dancers, three are already serving their missions, and two have received their call.

One woman came up to me in tears after Relief Society one day and said, “I’m about ready to give up on him. I thought a year would bring some changes, but he’s not more ready to become active than he was last year. I feel like the Lord has failed me. Why should I keep trying if he’ll never change?”
After listening and searching for understanding, I asked, “You say you are still trying. Have you been devoting yourself to your own spiritual nourishment lately, as you were a year ago when you felt such promise for the relationship?”
“No,” she answered, “I haven’t felt like praying, and with moving to another home, I haven’t felt like I’ve had time for studying.”
“Well,” I confided, “I know that when I begin to lose faith in my husband and in our relationship, or when I start to become critical, I find that I have been starving my own spirit. But as I begin to restore a sweet spirit within me, I see my husband with new faith and love.”
A few weeks later, this woman called to tell me that through recommitting herself to a program of spiritual feedings, she once again had hope in her husband and in their marriage. She said, “I was wrong. There has been a change in him. It is so slight that I had overlooked it before.”

Most of the time Ben liked to share. He liked to share Daddy’s toast and Mom’s cookie. He liked to share Mike’s football and Anne’s book. He liked to share Max’s wagon.
But Ben did not like to share his cool cars, not even with Max. “Mine!” Ben said.
Ben filled his hands and pockets with cool cars. He hid them in the corner and under the couch pillows. If Max wanted to play with him, Ben felt angry. “My cool cars!”
One day Mom pulled Ben onto her lap. She gave him a hug and a kiss. “Does Daddy share his toast with you?” Mom asked.
“Yes,” Ben said.
“Does Mommy share her cookie with you?”
“Yes.”
“Does Anne share her book and does Mike share his football with you?”
“Yes.”
“When you play with Max, does he share his wagon?”
“Yes.”
“When we share with you, we feel happy. You feel happy too,” Mom said. “If you share your cool cars with Max, you will feel happy, and Max will feel happy. You can play together, and you won’t feel angry anymore.”
Ben stayed on Mom’s lap for a minute. Then he got down and took two of his cars out of his pocket. He gave one to Max. Ben smiled, and Max smiled. Ben didn’t feel angry anymore. Sharing made him feel happy.

Elder Steven Hanks and Sister Jean Hanks are serving in Liberia and are living in Kakata, a village outside of Monrovia. They recently had the joyous opportunity and privilege of helping two young men in their mid-20’s, John Gbakoya and Baby Ya, receive new wheelchairs.
Elder and Sister Hanks left their apartment one morning at seven and drove to Bong Mine, an old mining town 30 miles northwest of Kakata, out into the bush, to pick up the two men with medical conditions requiring wheelchairs. Their current chairs were running on the rims and falling apart.
The Teerlink family, in collaboration with LDS Charities, had recently shipped 350 new wheelchairs to JFK hospital in Monrovia. It was a 3-hour drive through country roads and snarled African city traffic jams to the hospital where John and Baby were measured and fitted with brand new chairs.
The Hanks disassembled the chairs, loaded them and the men back in their truck, drove back to Bong Mine and then reassembled the chairs. John’s wheelchair took a little work, but they got it done, thanks to some bicycle-repair experience.
John and Baby Ya were overjoyed and so thankful. Their community gathered to rejoice with them. Everyone in town knows them and everyone was thrilled they were given these beautiful new wheelchairs.
It was a beautiful, sweet day. Special thanks to LDS Charities, the Teerlink family for their generosity, and to the Hanks for serving in Liberia and being just the right people to bless these young men and assemble their chairs.

I saw that same miracle a few short days ago in the aftermath of Hurricane Irma in Puerto Rico, Saint Thomas, and Florida, where Latter-day Saints partnered with other churches, local community groups, and national organizations to begin cleanup efforts.
Like my friends in Rexburg, one nonmember couple in Florida focused on helping the community rather than laboring on their own property. When some Latter-day Saint neighbors offered help with the two large trees blocking their driveway, the couple explained that they had been overwhelmed and so had turned to helping others, having faith that the Lord would provide the aid they needed at their own home. The husband then shared that before our Church members arrived with offers of assistance, the couple had been praying. They had received an answer that help would come. It came within hours of that assurance.

During my service as a bishop I had the opportunity of conducting tithing settlement. It was always a highlight to visit with the members of the ward during the Christmas season. With permission, I share one such experience.
One Sunday afternoon a faithful family came to the office to make their declarations. A sidenote to this story is that the father, an honorable and well-educated man, had lost his employment months earlier due to no fault of his own. Severance pay and savings eventually wore thin, and the family was doing its best to make ends meet. Earlier in the day my counselors had invited both the Relief Society sisters and priesthood brethren to consider contributing to a Christmas fund we had established to help some of our ward members. After returning home from church, the good mother, undoubtedly influenced by the Spirit, told her children about our request and encouraged them to contribute.
The parents had a few dollars remaining in their modest budget and decided to donate them to the fund. The oldest daughter—a devout and sensitive 17-year-old who had previously helped make a monthly payment for her brother’s mission—brought what money she had available from her part-time job. The youngest daughter, a sweet and conscientious 13-year-old, brought her babysitting money. With emotion in his eyes and obvious love and appreciation for his family, the father handed over their collective contribution. Then all family members declared themselves fulltithe payers.
In retrospect, I was witness to an act of holiness. This family is an example of what it means to be sensitive to—and then to comply with—the promptings of the Holy Ghost. The spirit I felt in that office was nearly overwhelming. Is there anything more desirable than the spirit we feel at those moments in life when we act in accordance with the Lord’s will? For this reason alone we should be in perpetual motion toward holiness.

Tyler’s family had signed up to help feed the missionaries, and tonight they were coming to dinner. Tyler loved having visitors, and Mom had promised he could sit next to them.
At the table, Tyler felt shy and didn’t know what to say. He wanted to be a missionary someday, so he listened and watched carefully. He wanted to remember how missionaries act. He looked at their shiny shoes, white shirts, and straight ties. Then he noticed something on their shirt pockets. “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to Elder Snow’s pocket.
“My name tag,” Elder Snow replied, holding it up a little.
“‘Elder Snow,’”Tyler read. “‘The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.’ Do all missionaries have name tags?”
“I think so,” Elder Millburn replied. “We want everyone to know that we are missionaries for the Church.”
“I always make sure to put my name tag on,” Elder Snow added. “I want everybody to know I believe in Jesus Christ.”
After the missionaries left, Tyler told Mom, “I’m going to make a name tag. I want to wear one so people will know I believe in Jesus Christ.”
Tyler cut a rectangle out of paper and carefully printed his name on it. Below his name, he wrote, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” He taped a folded paper to the back to insert in his pocket and keep the name tag on. He went to the mirror to see how it looked.
First thing in the morning he thought about his name tag. Hurriedly he got dressed and put it on.
When Mom went grocery shopping, Tyler went, too. He walked around, hoping everyone saw his name tag. While they were going back to the car, it started to rain. He pushed the cart quickly and helped Mom load the car before they both got very wet. “Such a good helper!” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
At home he helped carry in the groceries. When he leaned over, he noticed that his name tag was torn and sagging. And rain had smeared the words. I need a better name tag, he told himself.
That afternoon, he cut a rectangle out of a plastic lid. He wrote his and the Church’s name on it with a marker so the words wouldn’t wash away. He taped another piece of plastic to the back and stuck it in his pocket. He had a name tag again. Showing it to Dad, he said, “Just like the missionaries, I like to wear my name tag.”
Tyler went to show his big sister. She was studying at her desk and didn’t seem very happy.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, forgetting about the name tag.
“I have too much homework,” she moaned, “and it’s my turn to do the dishes.” She started writing again.
Tyler watched for a minute. “I’ll do the dishes.”
His sister looked surprised.
“My homework is all done,” he said. “I have time to do them.”
She gave him a hug and exclaimed, “You’re a great brother!”
Tyler did the dishes, but his shirt got wet and dirty. Pulling it off, he threw it in the laundry.
Getting dressed the next morning, he remembered his name tag and ran to the laundry room. His mother had already washed the shirt. She was putting it in the dryer. “Wait!” he yelled, pulling the shirt out of the pile. The name tag fell to the floor, twisted and warped. Tyler couldn’t make it lie flat. He threw it away. I’ll have to make something better, he told himself.
In the garage, Tyler searched for a thin wood scrap. Finding one just the right size, he went in the house to paint it. With a pointed brush he printed the letters. He made two holes in the wood with a hammer and nail and put a piece of twine through them so he could wear the name tag around his neck. When he took his shirt off, this name tag would stay put and wouldn’t get ruined. Tyler showed it to Mom and Dad. “Clever,” they told him.
Tyler wanted to show it to his best friend, Jason. He went outside and looked to see if Jason was in his yard next door. From the other direction, a boy on a tricycle whizzed by, laughing. His dog ran along beside him, barking in fun. It was little Jimmy from down the block.
Jimmy’s mother ran after him, calling frantically, “Stop! You’ve gone too far!” But Jimmy didn’t hear her, so Tyler raced to catch up with him. Grabbing the tricycle, Tyler gently pulled it to a stop and turned it around. He led Jimmy and his dog back to Jimmy’s mother.
“Thank you for stopping him,” she said. “He might have ridden into the street and been hurt. You’re a good neighbor!”
Tyler waved good-bye and headed back to find Jason. He reached for his name tag and stopped suddenly. It was gone! It must have fallen off while I was running, he realized. He finally found it, but the twine was broken and the name tag lay in pieces. It had been run over by the tricycle. Tyler walked home and laid the pieces on the table. “Jimmy ran over my name tag,” he told his mother, angrily. Then, with a big sigh, he said, “But I guess he didn’t mean to.”
A few minutes later, Tyler heard his father come home and ran out to tell him about the name tag.
“You know,” his father said, “not all missionaries wear name tags. When I was a missionary, we didn’t have name tags.”
Tyler was surprised. “How did people know you believed in Jesus Christ?”
“We told them,” Dad said. “And we tried to show them by the way we acted.”
That evening Tyler and his parents went to the stake center because one of his friends was being baptized. During the meeting, a speaker talked about Jesus Christ. “If we try to live as he did,” the man said, “people will know we believe in him.”
Tyler thought about that as they went home. Remembering what Dad had said, he suddenly knew what he could do.
“Mom! Dad!” he said excitedly. “There is a name tag I can wear that won’t get ruined or lost—an invisible one! If I try my hardest to live like Jesus Christ did, it’s like telling people I believe in him. It’s like wearing an invisible name tag!”
Dad smiled. “You’re right, son.”
Mom hugged Tyler. “I’ve already seen your invisible name tag.”
“You have?” Tyler asked, looking down at his shirt.
“Yes, it’s been there,” replied his mother. “Each time you’ve been helpful and kind—like when you washed the dishes for your sister and when you helped little Jimmy—your name tag was there.”
Tyler looked down again. He didn’t see the invisible name tag, but his mother had seen it. He hoped other people would see it, too, because he wanted everyone to know that he believed in Jesus Christ.

One of our goals as a family is to save enough money to make a down payment on our own home. Without that goal, I might waste my weekends watching television, waiting for financial opportunities to come to me.
As a driver for a mining company in northern Chile, I work four days away from home at the mines and then have three days off—Saturday through Monday. To supplement our income and savings toward a home, we decided to start selling eggs. Our plan was to take orders from friends, neighbors, and Church members; buy about 1,000 eggs each week from a wholesaler; and then pick up and deliver the eggs on Saturdays and Mondays.
My wife, Laura, and I decided we would bring our two children with us on deliveries and enjoy the time together. As we were on our way to buy our first batch of eggs, however, disaster struck. One of our children, playing with a small metal pencil sharpener, tossed the sharpener and it landed squarely in the empty cigarette lighter receptacle. Sparks flew, and our van lost all electrical power, coming to a sudden stop right in the middle of a highway. We had blown a fuse.
As we sat there holding up traffic and wondering what to do, we became so frustrated that we felt like crying. But at that moment, I remembered that the Lord has promised to lift us and help us if we put our trust in Him. A calmness came over me. I realized I couldn’t just sit there complaining. We had a problem, and with God’s help, we would solve it.
Laura and I turned to each other and said, “We have to show faith.” We said a prayer and dried our tears. Then, with Laura steering, I got out to push the car. Several people jumped out of their cars and helped me.
We pushed the car about 200 meters before finding a safe place off the highway to park. As the car rolled to a stop, I noticed that we had parked right in front of a car stereo shop.
I located the blown fuse, walked inside the shop, and asked, “Do you have one of these?”
The clerk replied, “Of course.”
I bought a fuse and put it in place, the car started right up, and off we went. The egg wholesaler was just about to close when we pulled up. We bought our eggs and made our deliveries.
When we have challenges, we need to remember to ask our Heavenly Father for help. I know He will answer us as we move forward and show our faith in Him.

Dean Ieremia’s dream of developing his skills “to be playing with the boys on TV” came true recently. On 30 April he played his debut game in Australia’s rugby league, with top-rated Melbourne Storm.
A member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, he says, “I made a promise to God that if I could improve my ability to play, I would keep the commandments. I set some standards and my faith motivated me to keep them. I put in the hard work and God gave me the opportunity.”
Ieremia continues, “One of the reasons why I choose to play for Melbourne is because the club puts family first, and family is important to me.”
He thanks his parents for their unfailing support through many challenges and trials. He says he was surprised and delighted to see the large group of family and friends at the game, holding a huge poster of him.
The hometown local played solid defense in his debut. He represented Victoria from the under 14’s through to the under 20’s and played for the Storm’s junior and feeder teams before getting a late call up to the NRL side in round eight.

A story is told of two men walking across a Midwestern university campus on a beautiful fall day. Surrounding a large oak tree, in its full fall colors, was a group of people.Curiosity led the two men to move into the crowd to see what was attracting them. They found the crowd was watching a squirrel run up and down the oak tree. On the ground was a beautiful retriever dog lying on his stomach, with his paws outstretched. His eyes and attention were focused on the squirrel.

As the squirrel would run up the tree, the dog would inch closer to the base of the tree. The crowd was enjoying the game that they saw being played out between the dog and the squirrel. Then without warning, as the squirrel came down the tree to play on the grass, the dog grabbed the squirrel by the neck and with one shake, broke the squirrel's neck.The crowd rushed forward to restrain the dog and to save the squirrel, only to find it was too late. The squirrel was dead.

What more could any one of them have done to save the squirrel? The answer is clear. Any one of the spectators could have easily restrained the dog by its collar, once they realized what was going to happen.

The question to ponder: how many opportunities do each of us have to save a so-called "squirrel" in our daily lives, either for others or for our own personal spiritual development? Think about it!

Seminary student Girly Mbuli explains how her faith and love of the scriptures saved her from a terrible situation.
“One day my friend Tiny Gugu and I had to go to Zondi to take some books to another girl. On our way back we saw a gang of boys. Gangs here rape girls, steal cars, do everything horrible. We started to run, but it was too late.
“The boys faced us. They had weapons. They made us go up on a hill and meant to do awful things to us. On the way up the hill, I was saying a prayer to my Heavenly Father. I don’t remember which scriptures I tried to say, but I kept thinking of them. I asked for help to be calm and not afraid. I felt peace come into my heart.
“When you are on top of that hill, you can see everything. The boys looked down and asked where I was staying. I pointed to Jabulane and something told me to say I was with my grandmother and my friend Lindiwe.
“The leader looked at me and said, ‘You are not afraid. Let them go!’ I later found out the brother of my friend Lindiwe is the boss of this gang, and he stays in the house of my grandmother. That is why they let us go free.
“When I tell this story to people, they refuse to believe we survived. But I know I did and I know why. It was because of my faith in Heavenly Father. I know that Isaiah 1:18 can be true for those guilty gang boys, if they will repent: “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow.” [Isa. 1:18]

Some months ago a ninety-year-old patriarch and dear friend of my own father was quietly laid to rest in this valley. My father passed away during the height of the Great Depression in 1932, and ten days later my oldest brother, age fourteen, died. During forty-seven years of my mother’s widowhood, this gentle man frequently visited our fatherless family to give wise counsel and encouragement and priesthood blessings. His example and personal concern, coupled with the goodness of many other priesthood leaders and loving neighbors, helped my mother and her five remaining children face the problems of economic depression and wars and the many worldly influences and daily challenges with which each of us must cope. His life in many ways touched scores of others in similar circumstances.
To me he was the epitome of the “pure religion” described in the epistle of James: “To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world” (James 1:27).

Last November, I had the privilege of being invited—along with President Henry B. Eyring and Bishop Gérald Caussé—to attend a colloquium on marriage and family at the Vatican in Rome, Italy. In attendance were religious representatives from 14 different faiths and from six of the seven continents, all of whom had been invited to express their beliefs on what is happening to the family in today’s world.
Pope Francis opened the first session of the assembly with this statement: “We now live in a culture of the temporary, in which more and more people are simply giving up on marriage as a public commitment. This revolution in manners and morals has often flown the flag of freedom, but in fact it has brought spiritual and material devastation to countless human beings, especially the poorest and most vulnerable. … It is always they who suffer the most in this crisis.”
In referring to those of the rising generation, he said it is important that they “do not give themselves over to the poisonous [mentality] of the temporary, but rather be revolutionaries with the courage to seek true and lasting love, going against the common pattern”; this must be done.
This was followed by three days of presentation and discussion with religious leaders addressing the subject of marriage between a man and a woman. As I listened to the widest imaginable variety of worldwide religious leaders, I heard them agree completely with each other and express support for one another’s beliefs on the sanctity of the institution of marriage and of the importance of families as the basic unit of society. I felt a powerful sense of commonality and unity with them.
There were many who saw and expressed this unity, and they did so in a variety of ways. One of my favorites was when a Muslim scholar from Iran quoted two paragraphs verbatim from our very own proclamation on the family.
During the colloquium, I observed that when various faiths and denominations and religions are united on marriage and family, they are also united on the values and loyalty and commitment which are naturally associated with family units. It was remarkable for me to see how marriage and family-centered priorities cut across and superseded any political, economic, or religious differences. When it comes to love of spouse and hopes, worries, and dreams for children, we are all the same.
It was marvelous to be in meetings with worldwide presenters as they universally addressed their feelings of the importance of marriage between a man and a woman. Each of their addresses was followed by testimonies from other religious leaders. President Henry B. Eyring gave a final testimony at the colloquium. He bore powerful witness to the beauty of a committed marriage and to our belief in the promised blessing of eternal families.
President Eyring’s testimony was a fitting benediction to those three special days.

When Wilford Woodruff was a boy, he went fishing as often as he could.
Wilford: Hey Azmon, look at this! Two fish on one hook!
Azmon: Wow, Wilford! They must really like those bird-feather flies you’ve been making.
He and his brother Azmon were known as the best fishermen in Farmington, Connecticut.
Wilford also had a secret island in the middle of his fishing stream. When his father didn’t need help at the flour mill or the saw mill, Wilford went to his island to think.
He wondered about God and religion and what Heavenly Father wanted him to do.
Years later, when Wilford Woodruff heard the missionaries explain that prophets and apostles were again on the earth, he was filled with joy. Wilford joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Soon after, the Prophet Joseph Smith called him to be an Apostle and to serve a mission to England with the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
In England, Elder Woodruff learned that a large group of people called the United Brethren had gathered to worship and to ask God for more knowledge of truth.
Elder Woodruff: John, this is inspired! The Lord sent me to Hereford to teach these people.
Elder Woodruff’s success with the United Brethren was even more astounding than his boyhood success with fishing. In two days he baptized six hundred people!
Constable: I have been ordered to arrest you, Elder Woodruff, for preaching to the people.
Elder Woodruff: But I have a license to preach the gospel, sir. If you will sit in this chair until the meeting is over, we will talk about this misunderstanding and get it settled.
By the end of the meeting, there was nothing left to settle.
Constable: I, too, wish to be baptized, Elder Woodruff.
Four ministers: So do we.
Elder Woodruff returned home and crossed the plains with Brigham Young, often providing food for the travelers with the new fishing rod he had brought from England.
And even when he was the prophet, President Wilford Woodruff could sometimes be found in a boat, happily fishing.
If you’d like to learn more about President Woodruff, do the “President Wilford Woodruff Crossword” on page 41.