Gospel Story Finder

When I was young, I wanted to be a general in the army. I planned to apply to the military academy in order to further my goal. That decision meant that I wasn’t expecting to serve a mission because I knew that the program in the academy for military officers would not excuse anyone for any religious activity.
Then I had the opportunity to go to a regional conference in Seoul, Korea—an experience that changed the direction of my life. During the conference, I heard President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) counsel youth to:
attend seminary,
serve an honorable mission,
marry in the temple, and
work toward exaltation.
I knew his counsel was right, and I remembered the verse that says, “My word shall not pass away, but shall all be fulfilled, whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same” (D&C 1:38).
When I heard the prophet speak about the importance of serving a mission as a priority in life, I knew I should put my trust in the Lord, serve a mission, and forego my dream to become a general, remembering to “seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you” (Matthew 6:33).

One time we went to watch a couple of movies at somebody’s house. My friends and I picked out one movie that was fine, and they also picked out another movie I knew was inappropriate. I mentioned something about not wanting to watch it, but everyone went ahead and rented it anyway. Will noticed I was quiet as we were driving away from the rental place.
“Hey, Jacob, is it really bothering you that we got that other movie?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “But it’s OK. I’ll just leave for that movie.”
Will didn’t think it was OK. He turned the car around and drove back to where we got the movie. Will and I went back and exchanged the inappropriate movie for something better that everybody still wanted to watch. I was always glad to have friends who helped me live my standards.

One of our fine young men, living in the eastern part of this country where he was one of few Latter-day Saints in his high school, received his mission call. As he prepared for his mission he asked his parents’ permission to invite twenty-five of his nonmember friends to come to the home for a farewell party. During that party the young missionary showed his friends Man’s Search for Happiness, explained why he was going on a mission for his church, and bore his testimony to them. They all in turn hugged him and let him know they loved him and sustained him.

One day Zoltán Szücs of Szeged, Hungary, surprised his kayaking coach by telling him that he wouldn’t be going to Germany for a competition.
“It was on the same day as my baptism, so I said no,” Zoltán said.
At age 17, Zoltán had won many competitions in kayaking. It’s a popular sport in Hungary, and Zoltán was good—good enough that becoming a professional was a real possibility. Beyond deciding to miss just one competition, Zoltán would soon give up kayaking entirely. He had something better to do.
Kayaking had been good for Zoltán. Over the years working with his coach, he had learned self-control, obedience, and hard work. Zoltán had also learned to avoid substances and habits that would hurt his performance. It wasn’t an easy life; it was lonely, and going pro would take up more time. Pros practice 12 hours a day and have to compete on Sunday.
“Kayaking took most of my time,” Zoltán says. “I was fanatical. Because of that, I left a lot of things out of my life.”
That’s why Zoltán decided that he couldn’t devote himself to both the gospel and kayaking. In 2004 he told his coach he wasn’t going to kayak anymore.
Earlier that year the missionaries started teaching Zoltán’s mom. He didn’t take part in the lessons. He grudgingly accepted his mom’s invitation to her baptism. But his heart was touched by what he felt once he entered the church building. Szücs agreed to meet with the missionaries, partly because he could identify with them.
“Missionaries were interesting to me because they were normal people but lived a higher standard,” he says.
Because of the higher standard that Zoltán was already living as a kayaker, he readily accepted the teachings of the gospel as valuable. He was baptized two months later.
At first he thought he could continue kayaking but not do competitions on Sundays. But because he’s the type of person who, once committed to an activity or course, wants to do well at it, he chose to give up kayaking entirely.
He tried once to kayak as a hobby after his baptism. When he did, his coach asked him to help teach others and organize trips since he wouldn’t compete. But he didn’t want to make commitments to kayaking—or any other activity—that could get in the way of his discipleship.
So Zoltán hung up his paddle and dedicated himself to Church service in a decision reminiscent of one President Howard W. Hunter (1907–95) made when he got married. President Hunter was an accomplished musician who played dozens of instruments. In the evenings he had been playing in an orchestra, but the lifestyles of those he associated with conflicted with gospel standards. So President Hunter put his instruments away and brought them out only occasionally for family sing-alongs.1
Zoltán misses kayaking, but he realized that his love for kayaking was strong enough to compete with, and possibly overcome, his love for the Lord if he stayed too close to the sport.
“The Church became my life,” Zoltán says. “Knowing that kayaking couldn’t be a living if I wanted to be active and that it would be just a hobby, it became easy to give up. Instead, I wanted to make Heavenly Father my focus.”
Zoltán began to study the gospel with the same intensity he brings to any pursuit. He set a goal to serve a mission. He wanted to stay in his country and teach others.
He served in Hungary and now works as a high school English teacher. He continues to set his priorities on the gospel. “There are things we need to give up because they get in the way of God,” he says. “It’s easy to give up the bad once we know we should. Often we don’t realize when we should give up something good for something better. We think that because it’s not bad, we can hold onto it and still follow God’s plan.” But Zoltán knows that we must give up the good if it keeps us from following God’s plan for us.
Zoltán Szücs, of Szeged, Hungary, gave up kayaking to have more time for the gospel.
Above: photograph © Thinkstock; below: photograph by Adam C. Olson

On December 1, 2002, I walked into a bookstore and bought a copy of the Book of Mormon. A brochure about the plan of salvation had been placed inside. On the brochure was written, “Sisters Burgey and Sorensen” and their telephone number. In July 2003, I called this number.
By the summer of 2004, I heard the missionary discussions from Elders Swensen, Vernon, and Gregory. Finally, on August 28, 2006, I was baptized. In the September 2006 Liahona, I read the article “Delayed Harvest,” by Rian W. Jones, which reminded me of the small actions that led to my baptism and confirmation.Nicolai Penchikov, Russia

Nearly three years have passed since we first met Jose Manuel in that park in Madrid, Spain. He is now a member of the Church. A few months ago he, like you and me, had a decision to make. He had to decide whether or not to serve a mission. Jose Manuel had every reason in the world not to go. He was just a recent convert. His knowledge of the gospel wasn’t that extensive. He had lost his father a few years before, and his mother didn’t want him to go. Other family members didn’t want him to go either. He didn’t have the finances to be able to serve for 18 months. He also had to complete his military service before he would be able to even think about serving a mission. Everything was against his going on a mission.
Every one of us, as we think about a mission, can find a number of reasons why we shouldn’t go. We must each look beyond those reasons. The key is to look for reasons to go. And Jose Manuel had some reasons to go. He knew that Jesus Christ was the son of God and the Savior of the world. He knew that Joseph Smith had seen a vision. He knew that the Church was true. He knew that it had changed his life, and he wanted to go out and share that knowledge with others.
Jose Manuel had a desire to serve. He was called to the work. With the help of the Lord, he was able to work things out. That always seems to happen. He overcame the obstacles, and he’s now serving in the Spain Barcelona Mission.

In my first general conference address, I shared an experience of my mother teaching me to work in our field. “Never look back,” she said. “Look ahead at what we still have to do.”

Toward the end of her life, while Mother battled cancer, she lived with Naume and me. One night I heard her sobbing in her bedroom. Her pain was intense, even after taking her last daily dose of morphine only two hours earlier.

I entered her room and sobbed with her. I prayed aloud for her to receive instant relief from her pain. And then she did the same thing she had done in the field years ago: she stopped and taught me a lesson. I will never forget her face at that moment: frail, stricken, and full of pain, gazing with pity on her sorrowing son. She smiled through her tears, looked directly into my eyes, and said, “It is not up to you or anyone else, but it is up to God whether this pain will go away or not.”

I sat up quietly. She too sat quietly. The scene remains vivid in my mind. That night, through my mother, the Lord taught me a lesson that will stay with me forever. As my mother expressed her acceptance of God’s will, I remembered the reason Jesus Christ suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross at Golgotha. He said: “Behold I have given unto you my gospel, and this is [my] gospel which I have given unto you—that I came into the world to do the will of my Father, because my Father sent me.”

My dear brethren, I am both humbled and honored to occupy this position. For reasons obvious to you, it never entered my mind that such a calling would come to me. One year ago when I was sustained, President Hinckley made it clear to the entire Church that he had not initiated the process that resulted in my call. I told him later that I was likely the only General Authority in the history of the Church to be sustained by the members in spite of a disclaimer by the prophet!
Nevertheless, I am grateful for your sustaining vote and pledge my whole heart to this great cause. I am grateful beyond expression for my family, for my wife and children, and for my good parents. My mother passed away two years ago, just two days after April conference. She was small in stature, yet I stand on her shoulders every day. Her influence will ever be with me. I cannot honor her properly by what I say but only by how I live.
I do not know what to say of my father that would not embarrass him, except that I love him and that I sustain him. At the risk of being too personal, I will say that as I watch him grow older, my mind goes back to days when we were little children, when he would lie on the floor and wrestle and play with us and lift us in his arms and hug us and tickle us, or pull us up into bed with Mother and him when we were sick or frightened in the night. My memories of him will ever be of laughter and love, of steadiness, of testimony, of relentless hard work, of faith and fidelity. He is kind and wise, and I am blessed beyond measure that I not only sustain him as my prophet for this season of mortality but that I also claim him as my father now and throughout all eternity.
Several weeks ago my mind was stimulated when Elder Douglas L. Callister of the Seventy was asked to give a brief history of his grandfather LeGrand Richards in a quorum meeting. Among other interesting things he reported was this: When Elder Richards was a young bishop, he visited those who were less active. He boldly invited them to speak in sacrament meeting to the subject “What my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints means to me.” Remarkably, several of them responded positively, and that experience put them on the road back to full activity in the Church.
I would like to speak to that same theme this evening. I invite each of you, young or old, to dedicate a small notebook to this theme. Write at the top of the first page the words “What my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints means to me.” Then briefly list those things that come to mind. Over time, additional thoughts will come, which you can add to your list. Soon you will have a growing booklet that will fill you with gratitude and appreciation for your membership in the Lord’s Church. It may even provide a resource for talks you may be asked to give in the future.
My list is already long, and I have selected just a single item from it to discuss this evening. I must save other topics for another place and time.
I will speak briefly of the principle of repentance. How grateful I am for the understanding we have of this great principle. It is not a harsh principle, as I thought when I was a boy. It is kind and merciful. The Hebrew root of the word means, simply, “to turn,” or to return, to God. Jehovah pled with the children of Israel: “Return … and I will not cause mine anger to fall upon you: for I am merciful … and I will not keep anger for ever. Only acknowledge thine iniquity, that thou hast transgressed against the Lord thy God.”
When we acknowledge our sins, confess them and forsake them, and turn to God, He will forgive us.
While I was serving as mission president recently, two of our elders asked if I would meet with an investigator who was scheduled for baptism the following day. She had some questions they were unable to answer. We drove to her home, where I met a young widow in her late 20s with a child. Her husband had been killed in a tragic accident a few years earlier. Her questions were thoughtful, and she was receptive. After these were resolved, I asked if she had any other concerns. She indicated that she did and that she wanted to speak with me alone. I asked the elders to step outside and stand on the lawn where they could see us clearly through a large window. As soon as the door closed behind them, she began to weep. She recounted her years alone, filled with heartache and loneliness. During those years she had made some serious mistakes. She had known better, she said, but had lacked the strength to choose the right path until she had met our missionaries. During the weeks they taught her, she had pled with the Lord to forgive her. She sought assurance from me that through her repentance and through the ordinances of baptism and the receipt of the Holy Ghost, she could be cleansed and become worthy of membership in the Church. I taught her from the scriptures and bore testimony of the principle of repentance and of the Atonement.
The next day my wife and I attended her baptism and that of her little girl. The room was filled with friends from her ward, ready and anxious to stand by her as a new member of the Church. As we left that service, I was overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude for the magnificent principle of repentance and for the Atonement that makes it possible, for the miracle of conversion, for this great Church and its members, and for our missionaries.
What does my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints mean to me? It means everything. It influences, enlivens, permeates, and gives purpose and meaning to everything in life that is important to me: my relationship with God, my Eternal Father, and with His Holy Son, the Lord Jesus Christ. It teaches me that through obedience to the principles and ordinances of the gospel, I will find peace and happiness in this life and be invited to live in God’s presence, with my family, in the life that surely will follow mortality, where His mercy will satisfy the demands of justice and encircle me and mine, and you and yours, in the arms of safety. I so testify, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Stake leaders have felt inspired to begin a number of programs to help support the members, and the youth are a big part of making these programs work. Apart from the boat, there’s a greenhouse, a group of new welfare farms, and even some livestock. And the youth in Navatuyaba love helping.
One sound you don’t hear much in Navatuyaba is the low rumble of industrial farm equipment. That’s changing now that the tractor owned and operated by the stake is being kept in the village.
The 17 youth in the branch are grateful for the tractor. Without it, the Navatuyaba members would have to find a way to till two acres (0.8 ha) manually. But the tractor doesn’t do all the farm work. The members all work together planting, weeding, and harvesting crops such as taro and tapioca.
“We all help on the farm,” says Kuli Qaravanua, 15. “The youth weed and plant or bring refreshments when the adults are working.”
“I like working on the farm,” says Maca Baikeirewa, 14. “It helps my family in many ways.”
The blessings of the farm aren’t just about having food to eat. The youth are learning a lot about growing food and working hard.
“I think that working on the farm has brought the youth of our branch together,” says Tulia Tinaimolikula, 18. “It has helped us learn about each other.”
But, as Kuli says, “the tractor and farm especially help us have peace of mind. I don’t have to worry about what I will have to eat tomorrow.”

In December of 2019, while serving in Baltimore, Thierry and Nathalie were invited to meet with President Russell M. Nelson. The meeting was virtual. The prophet asked mission president Mutombo what the most important thing was they had learned on their mission. President Mutombo answered, “trying to follow the Savior’s footsteps every day.”

President Nelson then extended a call to Thierry to serve as a General Authority Seventy. Thierry was 43 years old. For the next nearly 27 years, he will devote his life to the Savior’s work. On Saturday afternoon, April 4, 2020, while watching general conference as a family in Baltimore, Maryland, the six Mutombo children learned of their father’s new assignment. Walking in the Savior’s footsteps would continue for many years.

One day I was running the mile in PE. As I ran, I saw something shiny in the dirt. I picked it up. It was a beautiful ring with shiny diamonds on top and swirls of silver. Someone must have dropped it when they were running, I thought. After I finished my mile, I walked around asking the girls if it was theirs.
“No, but I wish it was mine,” said Natalie. “It is very pretty.”
All of the girls said it wasn’t theirs.
As we walked back to our classroom, I showed the ring to my friend Clayton.
“Wow,” Clayton said. “You should sell it. You could get lots of money.”
“I’m not going to sell it,” I said. “Whoever lost it is probably devastated.”
“You are too kindhearted, Tyden.”
Am I too kindhearted? I decided to ignore that thought and go with my gut feeling.
After class I went to the school’s main office to tell the secretary. “Ms. Tracy, I found this ring outside. Has anyone asked about a missing ring?” I asked.
“No, but I’ll put it in the lost-and-found box,” said Ms. Tracy. “I’ll make sure to ask the teachers if they lost any of their rings.”
I gave her the ring and left. I felt a warm feeling. Even if the owner doesn’t find it, I know I did the right thing.

Philadelphia, 1850
Members of the Philadelphia Historical Society hushed as Thomas L. Kane rose to address them. Colonel Kane, son of a prominent judge and member of a highly respected Pennsylvania family, read to them a formal paper about his experiences in the West among the Mormon refugees from Nauvoo. Eloquently, he described the exodus from Nauvoo, the poverty and hard circumstances of the refugees, their willing response to the government’s call for a Mormon Battalion, and then told of their beginning efforts in Utah.
The address was so well received that Colonel Kane, at the prodding of a Mormon elder, published it as a very nice book of 84 pages titled The Mormons. The Kanes paid for the printing of two editions of 1,000 copies each, then mailed a volume to every United States senator, most of the congressmen, the President, government department heads, and other influential people.
Why was he concerned for the Saints? Colonel Kane became interested in Mormons four years earlier when he attended a Mormon conference in Philadelphia. Afterwards he talked for hours with Elder Jesse C. Little about Mormonism. He then wrote letters to aid Elder Little among the people in Washington, D.C., and later rode west with the elder to visit the Mormon refugee camps. Near one, he happened to overhear a Saint in earnest private prayer. While listening, the Colonel shed tears. “I am satisfied your people are solemnly and terribly in earnest,” he told Elder Little.
In the camps Colonel Kane became deathly ill. Carefully nursed by Saints, he recovered, but not before witnessing much of the everyday life of Mormons. On his return to the eastern U.S. he stopped to see the nearly deserted City of Nauvoo. At Albany, New York, illness nearly killed him. Fearing death, he instructed his father, a judge, to never suffer any evil to come upon the Saints from the federal government, if he had the power to do so. The Colonel survived, and then drew on his firsthand knowledge for his address to the historical society.
Colonel Kane’s published address, some critics said, seemed too sympathetic about the Mormons. With critics in mind he inserted a preface in The Mormons’ second edition to reinforce his conclusions:
“I have been annoyed by comments that this hastily written discourse has elicited. Well meaning friends have even invited me to soften its remarks in favor of the Mormons, so the Mormons would be more easily accepted. I can only make them more express. The Truth must take care of itself. I not only meant to deny that the Mormons in any way fall below our standard of morals, but I want it distinctly understood that I ascribe to those of their number with whom I associated in the West, a general correctness of deportment, and purity of character above the average of ordinary communities.”
During his lifetime Colonel Kane became the Church’s “Sentinel in the East.” He advised Church leaders on political matters in Washington, D.C. Once, on his own initiative, he traveled to Utah via Panama to serve as a mediator between the Mormons and the federal army sent against them by President James Buchanan. In 1873 he visited Utah again, this time with his wife. While they accompanied President Young on a long trip south through dozens of Mormon villages, Mrs. Kane wrote down her honest reactions in letters home and in her journal. In 1874 her father published a book based on her Utah writings, Twelve Mormon Homes. “with the intent of getting sympathy for Mormons, who are at this time threatened with hostile legislation by Congress.”3

Sisters help one another keep those baptismal covenants in many ways. Ting Chang of Taiwan “[came] into the fold of God” while in middle school. Because her family was in a difficult financial situation, Ting would forgo lunch to save on family expenses. Jina, a classmate, noticed. Jina’s mom began to prepare extra food every day for lunch to share with Ting. Soon Jina invited her friend to attend church with her. Jina’s mom had recently joined the Church, and Jina was taking lessons with the missionaries. For Ting, the example of charity these women presented was powerful, and she also began meeting with the missionaries.
Together, Ting and Jina read scriptures and kept a journal of their sacred experiences. Their bonds of sisterhood grew when both young women were baptized on the same day. Today, both are serving full-time missions to spread the joy of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Jina, her mother, and Ting have become sisters through living the Lord’s standards and by bearing His name.
Sister Ting Chang (right) and Sister Hsuan Shih (left), Jina’s younger sister, who was baptized around the same time as Jina, serve together on Temple Square.

The Salt Lake Temple, dedicated in 1893, was the first temple topped with an angel formally identified as Moroni. When Church President Wilford Woodruff (1807–98) asked non-LDS artist Cyrus Dallin to create a statue, Dallin declined. Knowing that Dallin’s parents had once been active Latter-day Saints, President Woodruff encouraged him to consult with his mother.

Dallin’s mother felt he should accept the commission. When he said he did not believe in angels, his mother asked, “Why do you say that? … You call me your ‘angel mother.’”3 She encouraged him to study Latter-day Saint scriptures for inspiration, which he did. His design was a dignified, neoclassical angel in robe and cap, standing upright with a trumpet in hand. The original one-meter plaster model was completed by 4 October 1891, and a full-size model was sent to Salem, Ohio, where the statue was hammered out of copper and covered with 22-karat gold leaf. The 3.8 meter statue stands on a stone ball on the 64-meter central spire on the east side.

Cyrus Dallin was born in Springville, Utah, on 22 November 1861. His family had joined the Church in England and immigrated to Utah in 1851. Once there, however, Dallin’s parents joined the Presbyterian Church. As a child, Cyrus loved sketching and modeling with clay. Eventually he studied art in Boston, Massachusetts. “I considered that my ‘Angel Moroni’ brought me nearer to God than anything I ever did,” he said. “It seemed to me that I came to know what it means to commune with angels from heaven.”4

In very beautiful paper, I wrapped a Bible; a copy of the Book of Mormon; the pamphlets “Why Families,” “What of the Mormons,” and “The Prophet Joseph Smith’s Testimony”; plus a card showing where we have the local branches of our church here in Ibadan. I gave it as a Christmas present to the principal investigating officer in the general post office here.
I felt good giving this gift because this man was very kind and I felt he deserved to come to a knowledge of the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I can say that my Christmas gift affected not only him but his entire family because of the card his wife sent me which included his handwritten note saying, “Your wonderful Christmas gift has been received. I am appreciative of your very kind gesture. Thank you.”
—Amuzie NwachukwuIbadan, Nigeria

My introduction is something said in my presence by one of these valiant missionaries. “As I look back on my life,” he said, “I can hardly imagine a barefoot surfer from Hawaii completing his third mission. But when I felt the warm embrace of the Savior, I wanted to serve Him, and I changed.” Yes he did! Stanley Y. Q. Ho told me that until he was 30 years old he did nothing but “hang around the beaches at Waikiki.” Then he found the gospel, he married a Latter-day Saint girl, and he changed. Since then he has fulfilled many callings, including bishop and stake president. Now, Elder Ho and his beloved Momi, who is responsible for so many of the changes in his life, have served three full-time missions.

Since being in the Dominican Republic, we have had several experiences where members and friends of the Church have approached us and told us they were, or had friends who were, members. One Saturday, we walked into a jewelry shop that sold locally crafted jewelry. When the lady behind the counter saw our badges, she immediately said she had family who were active members of the Church. We had a wonderful exchange with her as we made a few modest purchases. nullA few weeks later, while at a mango festival in Bani, Dominican Republic, a young member, about missionary age, saw our badges and came up to greet us and welcome us to his city. We talked about missions with him and felt his warm and welcoming spirit. We could easily see him serving the Lord wearing his own missionary badge. We continue to be blessed by the people we meet because of the badges we wear and who we represent. The power of the badge continues to touch hearts as missionaries throughout the world strive to declare through word and deed “that there is no other way or means whereby man be saved, only in and through [Jesus] Christ” (Alma 38:9).

At that time in my life, I didn’t think I would ever understand why Jen would risk failing a test just so she could feel better about herself. I never admitted cheating to Mr. Harrison or to my parents. In fact, I forgot about the incident completely until three years later, when I found myself being taught by the Mormon missionaries. I remembered Jen, who I knew was a Latter-day Saint, risking so much to repent, and I finally understood. Though she may never know it, her example three years earlier helped me to understand the importance of integrity.
As I read the scripture in Matthew 7:16 [Matt. 7:16]: “Ye shall know them by their fruits,” I thought of Jen and all the other members of the Church who had set good examples for me. That’s when I decided to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Shane never did ask me out on a date or even talk to me again. But as I went into the waters of baptism, I really did feel like the happiest girl in the world.

But I often felt out of place at church because I was learning so many new things. I bought some new long skirts to replace my short ones. When I wore them to church, I found out they were still too short to meet Church standards. I didn’t understand what my friends meant when they used Church-related abbreviations. I was too nervous and shy to ask them the meanings of things.

What helped was the teens befriending me and taking time to include me. They seemed to have a natural way of caring for new members. Another thing that helped was visualizing my family in the next life. I never wanted them to be disappointed in me for not living the gospel when I knew it to be true. Even though times were difficult when I was a teenager, I tried to think of the future and my responsibility to my family. If I did not live the gospel, how would my family ever have a chance of accepting it?

Some years ago, President Gordon B. Hinckley told “something of a parable” about “a one room school house in the mountains of Virginia where the boys were so rough no teacher had been able to handle them.
“Then one day an inexperienced young teacher applied. He was told that every teacher had received an awful beating, but the teacher accepted the risk. The first day of school the teacher asked the boys to establish their own rules and the penalty for breaking the rules. The class came up with 10 rules, which were written on the blackboard. Then the teacher asked, ‘What shall we do with one who breaks the rules?’
“‘Beat him across the back ten times without his coat on,’ came the response.
“A day or so later, … the lunch of a big student, named Tom, was stolen. ‘The thief was located—a little hungry fellow, about ten years old.’
“As Little Jim came up to take his licking, he pleaded to keep his coat on. ‘Take your coat off,’ the teacher said. ‘You helped make the rules!’
“The boy took off the coat. He had no shirt and revealed a bony little crippled body. As the teacher hesitated with the rod, Big Tom jumped to his feet and volunteered to take the boy’s licking.
“‘Very well, there is a certain law that one can become a substitute for another. Are you all agreed?’ the teacher asked.
“After five strokes across Tom’s back, the rod broke. The class was sobbing. ‘Little Jim had reached up and caught Tom with both arms around his neck. “Tom, I’m sorry that I stole your lunch, but I was awful hungry. Tom, I will love you till I die for taking my licking for me! Yes, I will love you forever!”’”
President Hinckley then quoted Isaiah:
“Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows. …
“… He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.”