Gospel Story Finder

From the time my husband and I started our family, our choices about how many children to have and when to have them have often come into public question. The decision to have our first child was not a logical one, at least not according to the standards of the world. We were still in our early 20s. Having just recently graduated from college, my husband was searching for a “real job.” We had a meager income and no insurance. Still, the impression was undeniable that spirits eagerly waited to come to our family, so we proceeded with faith.
We were blessed with a healthy pregnancy, a beautiful baby girl, and a stable job with a career track. I was grateful to be able to stay at home with my daughter and the three children who followed. All were brought into our family after strong divine impressions that the time was right, but that didn’t make it easy to explain to others why we would have so many children so close together.

When my oldest daughter Debanie was in fourth grade, she had a big field trip scheduled for her Idaho History studies. She invited me to go with her. She was excited for me to ride the bus with her for the hour-long ride to Massacre Rocks. When we boarded, we walked to the middle of the bus and sat down. I noticed a young man in the seat in front of us. He was by himself and even asked a few passing students if they wanted to sit with him. No one was mean, but they all politely declined and found other seats. It was like a sad scene from a movie--the lonely boy that no one would sit by. I could tell that he was sad and felt a little awkward all alone. I said to Debanie, "Hey would it be ok if I sat with Brian for a bit of the trip?" Her answer surprised me. She didn't say yes, she said, "I will sit with him." She moved up a seat and sat with Brian. What I saw was amazing. Not only did she sit with him, but she started to visit with him, they started giggling and laughing and having fun. I saw this lonely, sad boy change. His eyes shined, he had a smile on his face. I was taught by my ten year old daughter. She, just like the Savior, loved someone in need. She did not hesitate or make excuses of why she couldn't. She just automatically did the right thing and was truly an example of our faith.

A few years ago a family in search of work arrived from nearby Portugal. Poor but proud, they searched and searched but could find no work. Since Santiago de Compostela lies in the region of Galicia, most people there speak Galician as well as Spanish. Galician is very close to Portuguese, so the family was able to communicate, but it became increasingly difficult to get enough to eat. Finally, utterly destitute, they found themselves one day with neither food nor shelter. Seeing his children hungry, the father of the family choked down his fierce Portuguese pride and took his family onto the street to beg.

Two Mormon missionaries walked past, and with one look they knew that these were no professional beggars. They read the anguish and integrity and pride in the eyes of these people. They told the branch members. One brother offered the family an apartment rent free for as long as they needed it. The young people gathered food for them from members of the Church. Someone went out and found a job for the father. The members provided for them the things they needed to get started in a new city and country. Before long the family was able to pay its own way as well as pay back the assistance they had received and begin to help others in need.

The members put no pressure on this family to investigate the Church, but the family had felt the compelling power of Christlike love. They investigated the Church and requested baptism. There was one more family of pilgrims in Santiago.

In 1972 a couple and their six children were sealed in the temple. “I’ve never seen my mom and dad so happy as the day we went into the temple as a family. That day of joy was the culmination of more than twenty years of effort,” one daughter recalls. The wife explains: “I grew up in a strong LDS family but married a nonmember, thinking I could convert him. He joined the Church in 1953, but I learned before too long that he had done it just to get me to stop nagging him. He even started smoking and drinking after baptism, and he had never done either of those before. I guess I nagged him a lot in those years. I would self-righteously take the children to church and then come home and quarrel with him because he hadn’t gone too.”

What finally made the change? “I prayed so hard those years that I never took time to listen to the Lord’s answer. And when I heard it I ignored it. But finally I was so desperate that I felt I had no other choice than to do it His way: ‘You have to love him in,’ the Spirit would whisper to me. ‘Let him go at his own pace.’ So finally I did it and before too long we were at the temple.”

At the same time, the Lord was reaching out to this man in other ways. His colleagues at work had begun to ridicule Joseph Smith, and he felt he had to know if the things they were saying were true. If they were, he would leave the Church. “I started to read the Book of Mormon. I had never really tried to understand it before. It was a marvelous experience. And I learned how to defend the Church to the men at work and that it was defensible. I got so I really thirsted to know the truth. I went back to church. And all the while I was amazed at the quiet support my wife was giving me. Instead of nagging, instead of saying, ‘I told you so,’ like she once would have done when I started to go back, she simply took my hand and said she wanted to help me do whatever would make me happiest.”

Study and church attendance—even a thoughtful testimony borne on a fast Sunday—were followed by a review of the missionary discussions, giving up drinking, and having a difficult struggle to stop smoking. “I thought it would be easy for me to quit smoking, even though I had smoked for seven years—because I generally have good will power. But I tried and tried to quit and I couldn’t. Every time I definitely decided to quit, something would happen, and suddenly I would find myself with a cigarette in my hand and smoke coming out of my mouth. I had heard stories about the Lord taking the desire away from people when they sought him in prayer, but that didn’t work for me. Maybe I didn’t have strong enough faith, or maybe he wanted me to grow more from the struggle. I just knew that I couldn’t quit. Finally I went to the Lord in prayer and committed myself to him that I would never smoke again, even if it was difficult. It wasn’t easy—in fact, even now when I smell tobacco I have an urge to smoke again—but from that moment to this I have never broken my covenant.”

“I don’t think all these things would have happened if we hadn’t made a plan. Our home teachers taught us that the best thing we could do was to set specific goals for what we would have to do in our lives before we could go to the temple, and then of course to reach our goals by the designated time. First, we decided we would have to go to all our meetings. That was a hard one for me because I worked nights, and priesthood meeting started about an hour after my bedtime. But I went anyway. Second, I had to start living the Word of Wisdom; third, we had to pay tithing, and so on. Those goals really made the difference. They gave us a deadline for us to accomplish each step and a final date for when we wanted to be at the temple. That was the only approach that would have been effective for us.”

Brother Bollbach’s new skills gave him the confidence to start on his next goal—helping others like himself succeed. With the help of government funding, Brother Bollbach set up a workshop to teach woodcarving to people with visual impairments. He had many wonderful experiences in the workshop. One in particular stands out in his memory. It was two weeks before Christmas, and he was alone. Brother Bollbach was carving a special present for his wife—the model of an elk. He finished the elk’s body and thin legs with ease, but carving the eyes seemed impossible.
“I decided to stand up,” he says. “As I walked around the workshop, I began to sing my favorite hymn, ‘I Need Thee Every Hour.’ I prayed to God out loud for help, and again I sang.” After singing for more than an hour, Brother Bollbach picked up the knife and wood. But he still couldn’t carve the eyes. “What should I do? Shall I give up?” he asked himself. “No, Fritz, don’t give up. Try it again,” he told himself. However, he still could not hold the knife steady enough to carve the eyes. He stood up again and walked around for another hour.
“I sang, I cried, and I prayed for some time,” he recalls. “I thought of the many blessings the Lord had given me. I then took the knife again, and with my hands shaking, I carved the eyes and within minutes finished the whole head.”

When members were invited to join a special choir that would sing at the Oklahoma City Oklahoma Temple dedication, Mary Brunson jumped at the chance. Singing? Absolutely. Mary enjoys doing it and is quite proficient. She’s so into performing and singing that she has a sticker that says “Drama Queen” on the bumper of her car. “I really love to sing,” she says.

So after months of practice for the special event on July 30, 2000, she compared the differences between performing on stage and singing at this occasion.
“It was worship here today,” she says after the first of four dedicatory sessions. “In a play you go out and perform. When I perform, it is pretending. Singing in the choir was not pretending. This was real. This is something that will stay with me.”
She’s speaking about both her experience at the dedication and the white marble temple that sits on the outskirts of Oklahoma City.

The choir
In the spring of 2000, the Oklahoma City Oklahoma East Stake organized the choir. Mary saw it as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So did Ben Harrison and Jonathan Pierce. It didn’t hurt that all three are friends who love to sing—friends who were able to support and encourage each other during rehearsals.
“When we started practicing in the spring, the temple dedication didn’t seem real. It seemed so far in the future,” says Ben, 16, of the Choctaw Ward. Mary, Ben, and Jonathan stopped by the temple site at various stages of construction, watching the sacred building go up. With each passing month, the reality of the temple increased in their minds. Weekly choir practices in preparation for the dedication also helped.
“I really think it will draw us a lot closer to the Church having a temple here,” says Jonathan, 18. “We won’t have to drive all the way to Dallas.” Or Manti. Before the Dallas Texas Temple was built in 1985, the Oklahoma City members were in the faraway Manti Utah Temple district. For Jonathan’s family, temple visits have gone from a two-day journey to a four-hour trip to the 20-minute drive of today.
As Mary, Ben, and Jonathan walk around the temple grounds after the first dedicatory session, they all seem a little in awe of what has just occurred. Maybe at one time having a temple in Oklahoma didn’t seem real. But the three realize they just took part in something they know they’ll remember forever.

A lifetime of memories
“This was an experience you can look back on and remember most clearly because of how unique it was,” says Jonathan. “I really liked singing ‘God So Loved the World.’ Watching President [James E.] Faust put the mortar in the cornerstone and then singing that hymn made me realize God does so love the world that He is going to dot the world with temples.”
All three are also in agreement that they often assumed Oklahoma would never have a temple. But after President Hinckley’s 1997 announcement, it wasn’t long before the temple that will serve members in parts of Kansas, Arkansas, Texas, and Missouri—as well as Oklahoma—was announced.
“This is such a great thing,” says Ben, standing near the temple entrance. “There were times when I thought Oklahoma didn’t have enough members to have a temple. But I’ve seen that we actually are strong, and the temple shows me how strong we can become.”
All three also believe the presence of the temple will help the youth in the area stay stronger in the Church. “A lot of teenagers do drift from the Church when they get to high school,” says Jonathan. “I really believe more boys will go on missions from Oklahoma if they’re able to go through the temple that they can call their own.”
They’re also sure of one thing. “We’re going to wear the temple out,” says Ben.

At a seminar held in Warsaw, Poland, attended by students and leaders of the Communist party, a student posed this question: “Please don’t be angry, sir, but could you explain the ‘meaning of life?’” Poland’s leading Marxist philosopher reported that as he glanced at the hundreds of pairs of eyes silently staring at the party leadership, he recognized the seriousness of this question and a weakness in their philosophy that has neglected to deal with this challenging problem.
We as members of this church know the meaning of life. It has been revealed in its truthfulness and purity and is available to all who seek, will listen, and believe. The mission and responsibility of this church and its members have been made abundantly clear—to proclaim the Lord’s teachings unto the entire world. We must be prepared to accomplish what the Prophet Joseph Smith proclaimed—to see that “the truth of God [goes] forth boldly, nobly … till it has penetrated every continent … swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished. …” (Documentary History of the Church, vol. 4, p. 540.) The Lord has said: “Prepare ye the way. …” (D&C 65:1.) Then it is our duty to prepare all of our members so that we might develop a strong foundation and belief in the true gospel of Jesus Christ. The Church-wide teacher development program was developed to help accomplish this purpose. It is now in various stages of implementation in the stakes and the wards and in English-speaking missions throughout the world.
The aim of the teacher development program is to improve teaching wherever teaching is done in priesthood quorums, auxiliary organizations, and in our homes so as to bring about worthwhile changes in the lives of boys and girls, men and women. The First Presidency initiated this program knowing full well the importance of the teaching moments in our classrooms and because of their conviction that all teachers can improve. This program combines the most effective teaching techniques with spiritual principles.
This priesthood-sponsored program, directed by the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve, places the responsibility for its success with the stake presidents and then the bishops.
The able and highly competent committee appointed by the First Presidency, with Brother Rex Skidmore as chairman and Brother Ruel Allred, Sherman Sheffield, Stephen Covey, and others, has under inspiration developed what is now considered the most effective teaching program in use anywhere.
You stake and ward leaders have performed magnificently with the instruction given to you through the Regional Representatives of the Twelve in organizing, ordering the material, and getting this program off to an auspicious start. There have been shipped to the wards, stakes, and missions 917,598 copies of instructional material. Even with this vast quantity shipped, we apologize to a few who have yet to receive some material, because your orders far exceeded the quantities estimated. A fourth printing was necessary. All back orders are being distributed this week.
I am sure you would like to know how the teacher development program is progressing. The old adage that nothing succeeds like success certainly applies to this program. A stake teacher development director in Idaho reports, “We have now finished our sixth basic lesson in all of the wards. The stake inservice leaders contact me two weeks before the stake leadership meeting to review the filmstrips so they will be properly prepared for their meetings. There is a strong positive response in our stake. Participants taking the first basic course observed our present teaching and were shocked. Their eyes have been opened to the principles of effective teaching.”
A Regional Representative of the Twelve reports, “Teacher development exceeding expectations. Excellent!”
From California: “All ten wards in our stake are half through the basic course.
“When the Primary began these new inservice lessons, they had only one person teaching the entire group. Now the inservice leader has several Primary workers also as teachers, and they break up into smaller groups so everyone can be involved and report their experiences. Some were concerned with micro teaching. Now they use it and enjoy it.”
From a New York stake: “The teacher development materials are excellent and the concepts aid anyone in teaching. I have even used some of these techniques in the public school system.
“Members are asking to be enrolled in the basic course. They are ‘standing in line,’ my wife being one of them.”
One lady reported her teaching improved after the second lesson. She began to use the “eye to eye” approach. She began to “teach with the spirit and heart rather than with the book.”
This story from a Utah rural area: “Twenty-four years ago, as a young man, I was called to teach a Sunday School class of thirteen- and fourteen-year olds. I thought my first lesson was pretty good, but I didn’t have enough material to last through the class period. During my second lesson, again I was out of material. I resolved it would never happen again, but it did the next Sunday. I gave the books back to the Sunday School superintendent. All of these years I have carried a feeling that I was a failure as a teacher, yet I still wanted to teach.
“Now I have taken the basic course. I know what a teacher should be. I know how to prepare. I know how to involve my class, and now I am teaching and fulfilling my lifelong desire. I have developed a foundation for teaching.”
I am sure you have been impressed with the advice and encouragement that President Joseph Fielding Smith and President Harold B. Lee give to the entire Church membership in the film You Make the Difference. This film, which every stake has in its library, outlines the need and demonstrates the methods for calling the participants and implementing the program. The proper influencing of the behavior of individuals through enlightened knowledge is our challenge.
As you know, the program is in three phases:
First: The eleven-week basic course is conducted every week in wards and branches. When one group of participants is graduated, another group starts the course. All officers and teachers, as well as prospective teachers, at some time, should take the basic course.
Second: The monthly inservice lessons are for all priesthood and auxiliary officers and teachers, and will be a continuous program. Each year a new series of inservice lessons will be prepared. The second series will begin in September 1971. Inservice lessons for subsequent years are now in preparation.
Third: “Supervision in Teaching” will be introduced in September 1971 with a supervision manual and other aids to assist the leaders and teachers to understand this new concept of effective supervision. This concept is not in its traditional use but is supervision using priesthood principles of love and understanding.
This entire teacher development program is being made available to units of the Church all over the world. Translation into sixteen languages is in progress. Non-English-speaking missions and stakes are receiving detailed instructions regarding distribution and suggested programming in their areas.
To develop great teachers takes effort, dedication, faith, and believing—the kind of believing expressed by some graduate students involved in this program in one of the student wards at one of the large California universities: “We have studied this program, and we know the program is inspired. Our problem and challenge is to see that it is properly implemented and put into effective use.”
The Church is now beginning an interesting period when members of this true church in increasing numbers will be able to proclaim “I know,” for they will have been effectively taught.
It has been said that teaching is one of the noblest professions. The Savior gives us some insight into the importance of our teaching responsibilities as he admonished Peter in that great encounter on the seashore when he queried Peter: “… lovest thou me more than these?” And then, to the dismay of Peter, he repeated his instructions three times, saying, “Feed my lambs,” and then, “Feed my sheep. … Feed my sheep.” (John 21:15–17.)
We must understand these instructions and our responsibility to “teach one another the doctrine of the kingdom” (D&C 88:77), but to teach it effectively so that all of us, our children, our children’s children, and generations yet unborn will be able to perceive and comprehend the true meaning of life as proclaimed by the Master, and then have a desire to live it and eventually gain exaltation in the kingdom of our Heavenly Father, in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

It was a blessing for the nine members from our Vieux-Fort Branch to travel to the Dominican Republic Santo Domingo Temple in April. I’m grateful for the brother who assisted in financing the temple trip. I pray that I’ll be able to have the opportunity to send many more members to the temple that they may also experience the wonderful joy, peace, calm and love the temple holds. Our group had the opportunity to do their family history and saving ordinances for many of their deceased family members. My experience of baptizing my grandparents on both sides of my family was the opportunity of a lifetime.

The first time Zack Clark of Phoenix, Arizona, played the cello, magic happened. His fingers pressed awkwardly upon the neck of the instrument as he pulled the bow across the strings. He was nine then and the notes he played were simple. But as the cello replied in its raspy baritone, Zack’s heart resonated to the sound. He had played with toy instruments as a child, but his sister Maegan played a real cello, and when he followed her example, it unlocked an inner symphony, a melody so complex and sweet he yearned to hear it again and to share it with others.
He quickly learned, however, that the notes of such a symphony do not migrate from the mind to the fingers without hard work. Under the guidance of a teacher who saw his potential, Zack was soon devoting four to seven hours each day to practice, immersing himself in a demanding discipline. He became principal cellist of school orchestras, the Metropolitan Youth Symphony, and the Phoenix Symphony Guild Youth Orchestra. At 14 he was named All-State cellist and performed solo at Arizona State University. He was invited to the World Cello Conference and was principal chair at major music camps including Brevard and Tanglewood. With his high school orchestra, he played at Carnegie Hall in New York City. At 18 he was selected principal cellist for the National High School Honors Orchestra. He auditioned for and received instruction from some of the best cellists in the world.
Music wasn’t everything, though. He had rhythm on a skateboard and an aptitude for folding origami birds. He remembered the birthdays of his family and friends, and he volunteered at a museum. Like many musicians, he was also good at math and found he could make most computer software sing. As a freshman at the Cleveland Institute of Music and Case Western Reserve University in Ohio, he began a double degree program in cello performance and computer engineering.
But it was while playing the cello that he could hear the symphony in his heart, and he kept perfecting his performance so that those listening could hear it too. And now as he performed, in the back of his mind he kept hearing another theme, quiet but constant. It sang of restoration, truth, angels, and light, of prophets, revelation, and the Holy Ghost. And even though his love of music had already filled him with a personal symphony, this new refrain brought clarity and fire to his soul. It reminded him of a favorite song:
We are as the army of Helaman.
We have been taught in our youth.
And we will be the Lord’s missionaries
To bring the world his truth.
(“We’ll Bring the World His Truth,” Children’s Songbook, 172)
The symphony in his heart was swelling, and as he heard the music in his soul, he knew the time for a full-time mission had come.
Many at school thought Zack was crazy. Other students studying with the same teacher had graduated to become the principal or assistant principal cellist with symphonies in Chicago and Seattle. Was Zack now abandoning a similar future for a strange cause?
It wasn’t strange to Zack. “For my entire life I’ve wanted to go on a mission,” he said. “It’s not a sacrifice, because I know I’ll be blessed. I keep thinking of the power of that phrase—‘to bring the world his truth.’ Sure, I’m setting aside the cello for two years, but I know it’s what the Lord wants me to do.”
Soon he received his call to the Scotland Edinburgh Mission, and as he read the letter from the prophet, the symphony sounded again. This time the melody reminded him of the Savior. “When you study music, you always want to learn from a master, someone with a higher knowledge than you,” Zack said. “As I read my call to serve, I realized that on my mission I would be serving the true Master, and that in His service, there is always much to learn.”
These refrains were also familiar—faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, obedience to the commandments, gospel study, service to others, sharing the truth. They were the themes of his life.
Today, as Elder Zack Clark is serving faithfully in Kirkcaldy, on the east coast of Scotland facing the North Sea, his personal symphony continues. Elder Clark and his companion, Elder Stoddard, just taught a husband and wife who both chose to be baptized. “If you want to hear music in your soul,” Elder Clark says, “just share the gospel. Watch someone embrace it, and as they learn and grow, the melody in your own heart will be sweet.”
“In the Book of Mormon there’s a scripture I just can’t get out of my head. Moroni has been addressing the unbelievers. He confirms that there is a God; he says that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever; that miracles were done in ancient times and still are done today. All of that is very logical. Then there’s this statement in Mormon 9:21: ‘Behold, I say unto you that whoso believeth in Christ, doubting nothing, whatsoever he shall ask the Father in the name of Christ it shall be granted him.’
“To me that scripture says that if you are righteous and have unwavering faith in the Lord, He’ll do anything for you if it is according to His will. On my mission, if He needs me to move a mountain to find somebody, I’ll be able to do that because of Him. When I get back, if He really wants me to play my cello again, then He’ll allow me—with the right determination—to get back in shape with my instrument.”
Imagine a concert featuring 20 of the best young musicians in a major metropolitan area, all performing barefoot! That’s what happened during Zack Clark’s Eagle Scout service project. He organized a concert to benefit children in need of footwear, and the musicians decided to emphasize the point by going without shoes or socks while they were on stage.
Admission to the concert was a pair of new shoes or socks, and 235 pairs of socks, 91 pairs of shoes, and other articles of clothing were donated for a local children’s home. Scouts from Zack’s troop distributed flyers promoting the event, served as ushers, prepared snacks, set up for the concert, and delivered items to the shelter, contributing more than 700 hours of service.
By studying music, Zack learned something that is now helping him in the mission field.
“Hard work is the key,” he says. “In music, you work on techniques and basics. Through practice and repetition, you learn obedience. You rehearse so much that when you perform, musicians say, ‘You have the music in your muscles.’ That means you’ve studied it so much it just pours out of you; you’re free to do your best. It’s the same way with the gospel. You study until you are so full that the Spirit can guide you to say the right things. Then when you teach, you know what to say.”
To hear Zack in performance, go to www.newera.lds.org, and click on the link.

A story I heard years ago has helped me recognize and then act on promptings from the Holy Ghost. Sister Bonnie D. Parkin, former Relief Society General President, shared the following:

“Susan … was a wonderful seamstress. President [Spencer W.] Kimball lived in [her] ward. One Sunday, Susan noticed that he had a new suit. Her father had recently … brought her some exquisite silk fabric. Susan thought that fabric would make a handsome tie to go with President Kimball’s new suit. So on Monday she made the tie. She wrapped it in tissue paper and walked up the block to President Kimball’s home.
“On her way to the front door, she suddenly stopped and thought, ‘Who am I to make a tie for the prophet? He probably has plenty of them.’ Deciding she had made a mistake, she turned to leave.
“Just then Sister Kimball opened the front door and said, ‘Oh, Susan!’
“Stumbling all over herself, Susan said, ‘I saw President Kimball in his new suit on Sunday. Dad just brought me some silk from New York … and so I made him a tie.’
“Before Susan could continue, Sister Kimball stopped her, took hold of her shoulders, and said: ‘Susan, never suppress a generous thought.’”9
I love that! “Never suppress a generous thought.” Sometimes when I have an impression to do something for someone, I wonder if it was a prompting or just my own thoughts. But I am reminded that “that which is of God inviteth and enticeth to do good continually; wherefore, every thing which inviteth and enticeth to do good, and to love God, and to serve him, is inspired of God.”10
Whether they are direct promptings or just impulses to help, a good deed is never wasted, for “charity never faileth”11—and is never the wrong response.

The Hunk. That’s what his friends called him. His muscles rippled beneath his shirt; his blonde, naturally wavy hair curled back from his tanned, intelligent forehead; and his teeth dazzled when he turned to smile. When he walked by, girls oohed and whispered in admiration and the guys backed up in awe.
Today would be the Hunk’s day of glory. Single-handedly he would sweep the state track tournament, bringing in dozens of trophies for Riverview High, along with numerous offers of scholarships to prestigious colleges for him. Then, on to the Olympics where he’d have gold medals draped over his muscular chest and crowds cheering and calling his name.
“Dexter! Dexter!” called his mother. “Pay attention or you’ll be late for seminary. Julie is out honking for you, and I need you to bring in some more sugar from the storeroom before you go.”
Dexter looked up at his mother, who was canning pears, and pushed a straight, dark lock of hair away from his glasses. He grabbed a sack of sugar, but it was too heavy to carry, so he set it on the floor, then scooted it across to where his mother stood by the stove. He grabbed his books, then ran out to where Julie, a classmate and neighbor, was waiting in her family’s beat-up station wagon.
Elder Hunk was the talk of the mission. Never had a missionary swept an area as he had. There had been talk of closing that area, but single-handedly Elder Hunk had swelled convert baptisms until conservative estimates ran in the thousands. His picture was on the cover of the Church News under the caption “Wonder Missionary,” and he was being compared to missionaries in the early days of the Church.
“How do you do it?” asked his mission president.
“Dexter. Dexter. How do you do it?” questioned his seminary teacher, Brother Larsen.
A classmate poked Dexter in his ribs, “Hey, wake up.” Brother Larsen patiently repeated his question. “How can we be member missionaries?”
Dexter looked up. “I dunno,” he said.
The youth genealogy class had started. Sister Barton had handed out pedigree charts. The Hunk walked in, arms loaded with notebooks and files.He dropped them before her and stated, “This is my genealogy research. I have recently added 15,000 names after having mastered 12 foreign languages. Notice the coat of arms and the royal lines that run throughout. And I have revolutionized data gathering using my new program. This computer disk now contains four million new names I’ve researched.”
As he drew the disk from his briefcase and casually dropped it before the instructor, the class gasped in amazement, and Sister Barton, hands to her face, stared in awe and reverence.
“Dexter, Dexter,” Sister Barton’s voice pierced his mind. “Here’s your family group sheet. Now put down what you can.”
Dexter replied, “I don’t even know where my grandfather was born,” as he pushed the sheet away.
“Scouter Hunk,” said the country’s president, “I want to pin this medal on you in appreciation for your courage and leadership skills. Bravely you rescued 400 tourists when their boat swamped. Your Eagle Scout project has revitalized your town, along with the entire country. And single-handedly you reformed 200 delinquent children by getting them involved in Scouting.
“Dexter,” called out Scoutmaster Simmons at the Scout meeting. “When can you help us collect food for the homeless?”
Dexter looked up. “I dunno,” he replied.
“Brother Hunk,” the stake leader said, “the youth conference you planned and supervised was the most impressive activity I’ve seen. As the youth representative you single-handedly organized and carried off a wholesome activity that will be recorded in this stake’s history. Every house has been painted, disaster plans and emergency supplies are present in every household, wickedness is banished, corruption and litter are gone. And the youth say they’ve never had so much fun. You are magnificent!”
The youth surrounding the stake leader cheered the Hunk.
“Dexter! Dexter!”
The voice of his priesthood adviser, brother Magnuson, broke through.
“Dexter, will you help set up tables for the youth conference next month?” asked brother Magnuson.
Dexter looked up, realized he was at a ward youth meeting, and replied, “I dunno.”
There’s no glory in that, thought Dexter. I want to be chairman or nothing. Fat chance of being chairman so I’ll be nothing. He sat silent for the rest of the meeting.
Afterwards Julie hurried to catch him as he started to climb into the family car.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “You’ve been so distracted and distant lately, like you’re in a different world. You always used to help out with youth conferences. What’s bothering you?”
“It’s nothing,” said Dexter. “It’s just that I’m tired of being ordinary—just average, with no honor or recognition. Look at us Julie. We’re the average kids. No one notices us. We are never head of anything, never applauded, just the average ones who are always there. If the school paper did an article about us do you know what it would say?”
Dexter picked up a school book, cleared his throat, and in a deep voice intoned, “Dexter and Julie are two average students at Riverview High. They have never been president of any organization. They did not win a scholarship. They haven’t won a race or a trophy. They have not won honors for any talent. They are average.”
“Now,” said Dexter, putting down the book. “Do you see what I mean?”
“But we try.”
“Name one thing you do really well Julie.”
“I like to paint.”
“Have you won any awards?”
“Well, no.”
“Don’t you see what I mean. You’re an average painter. So why paint?”
“Maybe I’m not a Michelangelo or even a Grandma Moses. But painting makes me so aware of the world. How many colors do you see in that tree?”
“One—it’s green. Trees are all the same. All green.”
“But I see maybe ten shades and colors—some darker with touches of brown, other parts lighter with splashes of yellow.”
“They’re still trees in an average painting. For me it’s going to be the top or nothing. I want to be a winner. I want recognition!”
His voice had gotten louder and classmates turned to stare.
“You’re getting recognition,” giggled Julie.
He lowered his voice. “I want to be the best, the greatest.”
“Well,” replied Julie, “it wasn’t some famous person that touched our family when we were investigating the Church. It was my three-year-old niece singing ‘I Am a Child of God.’ Sometimes the common can achieve the uncommon.”
“Not for me. I want to be the greatest. I want recognition. I want honors.”
Dexter climbed into the car and drove off.
Member Missionary Hunk was assigned to coordinate the open house for the public at the newly completed temple. He planned on being stationed in the celestial room, where he would quietly nod acknowledgments to community dignitaries. Afterwards there would be cookies and punch with guest speakers at the stake center to honor him. Honors to the Hunk.
“Dexter, you’ll be serving here. You’ll help put booties on the shoes of the visitors before they enter the temple for the tour,” the tour leader said.
Filled with disappointment, Dexter sat on the ground and assisted visitors with shoe coverings. No honor in this he thought. In fact it was uncomfortable and embarrassing. But there was something familiar about it. What was it?
He looked up at the temple spires and remembered the words carved on the side: “Holiness to the Lord.”
Holiness to the Lord. Again there was that nagging feeling of familiarity.
Suddenly, a scene came to his mind of a painting that hung at home. He who was greatest was washing the feet of the disciples.
Across the walkway of the temple two visitors were conversing.
“Say, who’s that kid with the glasses, the one who is putting on foot coverings. Is he someone special?”
“No, that’s just Dexter. He’s a nice, average kid.”
“But look at the way he’s treating visitors. It’s as though each person he helps is the most important person he’ll meet.”
On Saturday Dexter wrote a letter to his great-aunt requesting information on his grandfather’s birthplace. He gathered food, took it by an immigrant family’s home, and told them he’d be back the next day with two young men and a special book written in their own language. Later he wrapped up a clean Scout shirt and Scout handbook and quietly laid it on the doorstep of a widow’s home whose son hadn’t much money. He knocked and ran. The widow and son found the bag along with a note: From your friend.
Brother Magnuson was surprised that Saturday to get a call from Dexter. He volunteered to set up tables for the youth conference and offered to help with cleanup also.
Then Dexter called Julie and invited her to walk down to the park with him. She’d paint trees while he took photographs of the ducks.

One Sunday afternoon a few years ago, Benjamin’s dad gave him a piece of paper and suggested that he make something for family home evening. Now every Sunday Benjamin gets out his craft box and makes a project. He has made models of scripture stories like Jonah and the whale and Noah’s ark. It’s always a surprise to see what he will come up with.
Benjamin likes sharing his projects in family home evening. And when it’s time to sing the opening song, Benjamin volunteers to conduct it.

I have experienced this myself. In the October 1998 general conference, President Gordon B. Hinckley admonished members to get out of debt. [4] I felt that I should pay off my home, but my accountant told me I was crazy to even think about it because the interest rate on my mortgage was so low. Nonetheless, I decided to take President Hinckley at his word and just do it. It took some scrimping for several years, but I paid off the loan.

Now skip ahead to the fall of 2008—exactly ten years after President Hinckley’s warning about debt—when the U.S. economy was suddenly plunged into a recession. I was still the CEO of Deseret Book, and our sales plummeted. I was worried sick about saving jobs and frankly about saving the company.

But one evening as I drove home with a pit in my stomach, it dawned on me that despite all the pressure I was under, I wasn’t worried at all about myself. I owned my home and owed no money—all because I had followed a prophet’s counsel ten years earlier. Prophets help us see around corners.

After one of our lengthy temple meetings, when I had been a member of the Twelve for only a short time, President Kimball took hold of my arm and said, “Will you wait just a few minutes? I want to talk to you.” Of course I waited. When we were alone he said, “I don’t want the First Presidency or the other members of the Twelve to know, but I don’t feel very good today. Will you please give me a blessing?”
This thought came to my mind immediately: “Here am I, the least and last to be ordained, and he is asking me to give him a blessing.”
I was very nervous; I do not remember all that I said, but I shall never forget how pleased I was that he thought enough of me to ask for my assistance. He was asking the newest member to give him a blessing when he could have asked any of the First Presidency or other Apostles.
Why do I love this great man? In his hour of need he was exhibiting love for and confidence in me. He has learned the art of making people feel good about themselves. By his actions we know he loves us. “But whosoever will be great among you, let him be your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you, let him be your servant.” (Matt. 20:26–27.)

One year after Mohamed Turay had joined the Church in Caldwell, Liberia, the 1989 war broke out. As rebels moved closer to Caldwell, he saw people in his community leaving. He had a dream in which a bomb fell near his home. Finally, after seeing an article in the newspaper describing how people were being beheaded, Mohamed knew he and his family were in danger and he resolved to flee Caldwell. Mohamed believed the dream was a warning from God. “It was a blessing for my family,” said Mohamed. “A serious blessing.”
“Come,” he told Abie, his wife. “Today, we’ll not sleep here.” Mohamed took Abie and their children to the border where they would be safe. But he had to return to Caldwell to make final arrangements for their departure. Just hours before rebels took the city, Mohamed managed to escape and join his family.

“I always loved playing baseball. I’m grateful to my parents who let me turn the backyard into a practice baseball diamond every summer. I would line it off, make base pads, and really work hard at bettering my skills. In those days there were no organized Little League ball teams. One neighborhood played another neighborhood. The competition was keen. A dirt lot was cleared, and excitement ran high.
“I recall an experience involving a baseball mitt when I was about nine or ten years old. I was playing baseball with great diligence, and I had an old mitt that was coming apart and just wouldn’t do anymore. The kind of mitt I wanted cost $4.50—a lot of money then. I kept wondering how I could get my father to buy it for me.
“Every day when Dad came home from work, he would sit in a rocking chair or swing on the porch while he waited for dinner. He worked long, hard days, and it was during the depression when times were difficult. I knew that my approach and my timing were vital. One night after Mother had fixed Dad’s favorite dinner, I decided it was the right time. ‘Dad,’ I said, ‘you always taught us that when we do something, we should do it right. Is that correct?’
“‘Yes, that’s right,’ he agreed.
“‘You taught us that if we’re going to do something, it ought to be done with quality. Is that right?’
“‘That’s right,’ he agreed again.
“I said, ‘I’m assigned to pitch a critical game this weekend, and my baseball glove is worn-out. You’d want me to go out there with a high-quality, first-class mitt, wouldn’t you?’
“I brought the old glove out from behind my back, and Dad said, ‘That’s a terrible-looking glove!’
“I said, ‘I need $4.50 to get a new one, and I’ve already picked it out.’
“Dad stopped the porch swing, took out his little note pad and pencil, and started writing.
“I knew I’d lost with my sales pitch.
“‘Well,’ Dad said, ‘let’s see how long it would take you to earn it. At ten cents an hour, that would be forty-five hours of work.’ He then mapped out jobs for me that would require forty-five hours of work.
“Of course you know the end of the story. I didn’t get the mitt that week—but I did a couple of weeks later. I still have that glove. It is priceless to me. It taught me the value of work.”

At the family history library near his home, Josh Taylor was looking at microfilm of a census for Stephenson County in Illinois. He was looking for information about his great-great-great-great grandfather, George A. Stiles. It was seemingly needle-in-the-haystack time.

“It’s a fairly big county, and I wasn’t looking forward to looking through the entire thing,” admits 12-year-old Josh. “But I had prayed about it, and immediately page 261 came to my mind.” And there it was: information about his relative.

“Whenever a page number pops into my mind, I can tell if it’s going to have something in it or not because I feel this excitement. It’s hard to explain,” he says.

What isn’t difficult to explain is how Josh feels about family history.

“Genealogy is addicting,” the Rexburg, Idaho, resident says. After school and on weekends, you’ll find the sixth grader working as a family history assistant at the Upper Snake River Valley Family History Center at Ricks College. Because he’s so young, some folks find it hard to believe he knows so much. After all, family history is a bit perplexing. That is, until they ask him a question and discover he really does know what he’s talking about.

“Once I’ve helped them, they will sometimes come in and ask, ‘Does Josh know something about that?’” he says. Even one of his trainers, Elder Melvin Dickerson of Rexburg, a former full-time family history missionary, was a bit skeptical at first. “We don’t run a baby-sitting service,” he said more than once.

But Elder Dickerson quickly changed his mind when he discovered Josh was serious about the work. “He learned very fast,” he says. “He just gobbled everything up. He was incredible, and still is.”

While the use of computers is sometimes a stumbling block to some researchers, Josh is adept. Dickerson adds, “He is still a young child in some ways, but when it comes to family history, he knows how to do it and how to run the computers.”

Josh describes genealogy as a puzzle. “I have names and I find dates. I have children and I find parents,” he says. “It’s like pieces of a puzzle, and when you complete it, you shellac it and put it on the wall. When quizzed on his own genealogy, he can recall the names of family members back at least 12 generations.

Each day after school, Josh returns home from school and does his homework. Then he showers and changes into a dress shirt and tie for his two hours of work at the library.

“I feel it’s important to get dressed up. I am kind of a missionary,” he adds. “Going there each day is about what I expected it to be except for the spiritual things that I have gained. That’s been totally unexpected.”

Josh’s interest was sparked in early 1996 when many of his fellow fifth-grade classmates were attending a school-sponsored ski school. Instead of skiing, the 10-year-old signed up for an alternative minicourse on genealogy offered by the school. Josh’s mother, Judy Taylor, initially was concerned that two hours of genealogy each week would be too long for her young son. But he soon was hooked and found himself wanting to stay longer and longer at the local family history center.

While his parents, who teach music at Ricks College, were touring with the college orchestra a few months later, Josh stayed with his grandparents for a few days in Logan, Utah. His grandparents, who were serving as family history missionaries, took him to the family history center, where he learned more about the computer programs used by genealogists. Later that year, Josh read in his ward newsletter that Church leaders were looking for more local family history missionaries.

“That caught my attention, and I thought it would be fun,” he says. Josh then prayed about what to do, finding his answer that night while reading his scriptures.

“Right then I knew it was my answer, so I went to see my bishop,” he says. Bishop Kendell Nielsen of the Rexburg 15th Ward says he was a bit surprised, but encouraged the boy to pursue his desire. Josh soon was asked to work at the family history center located at the Rexburg North Stake Center. He has now switched to the family history center at the college, where he serves as an assistant for about seven hours each week. His parents say they have seen signs of maturity because of their son’s work.

“It’s made him a better student,” Sister Taylor says. And it’s dramatically helped his spelling. Before he’s allowed to go off to the center, he’s told his schoolwork must be done. “So it gets done pretty quickly,” Josh’s mom adds.

Josh was recently honored by his school as Student of the Month in English, a subject in which he had struggled previously. His father, David Taylor, adds, “We’ve noticed a dramatic improvement in his social skills.”

Josh tells of a time when a woman was trying to find her long lost brother. When she found the man’s name listed in the Social Security death index, the woman broke down and cried. She didn’t realize he was dead. “You don’t know what to say,” Josh says. “I let my grandma take over.”

When he’s not helping others, he works on his own family line. Recently, he found an ancestor for whom the family had been searching for years. At that point, one of his relatives remarked, “He really does know what he’s doing, doesn’t he?”

Josh’s interest has spurred other family members to work on genealogy too. His mother, who in the past didn’t have the time, suddenly finds herself at the center more often. And his other set of grandparents also have begun researching their family line.

His grandmother Martha Taylor of North Logan, Utah, says their common interest in family history has tied the family together. “I find it’s been a real bonding thing between us,” she says. “It’s given us so much to talk about and to build a relationship around.

“He knows computers much better than I do,” Sister Taylor adds. “On the other hand, I slow him down and tell him to do it thoroughly.”

Blaine Bake, director of the family history center at Ricks, says, “I wish I were in his shoes. He’s at the beginning of his life, and I’m at the winding-down stages, and there are going to be so many technological changes. Now that he’s 12, he’s looking forward to doing the temple work for some of the ancestors he has researched.”

But family history isn’t Josh’s only interest. He plays percussion in the school band and has acted in several theater productions at Ricks College. Last year he also placed first in his division in the Idaho State History Fair.

As for the miniclass in genealogy where his interest all started two years ago? This past winter he taught the class.

Sofía woke up early. Today was very special. She was going to sell lemonade at her aunt and uncle’s garage sale! Mamá help Sofía make a huge jug of lemonade.
Sofía made a sign. She wrote “Limonada” in orange and yellow letters. She taped it to a little table. Then she sat down to wait.
Soon a man came by. “May I have a cup?” he asked. He put some pesos in her jar.
“Sure!” Sofía said. She poured him a cup of lemonade.
More and more people came to look at the garage sale. And little by little they bought the yummy lemonade. The morning passed happily. Soon all of the lemonade was gone.
Sofía shook her jar. The pesos jingled. She had so many!
“Good job!” Papá said.
Sofía had never had so much money before. “I’m going to buy a yo-yo!”
Papá smiled. “Do you know what Mamá and I do when we earn money?”
Sofía shook her head.
“We pay tithing,” Papá said. “Heavenly Father gave us everything. He asks that we give Him a little part back. We pay tithing because we love Him.”
Sofía smiled. She wanted to show Heavenly Father that she loved Him too.
Papá helped Sofía count her pesos. Whenever she counted to 10, she put one peso in an envelope. Papá helped her write numbers on a little white paper. They put the paper in the envelope with the pesos. Then they sealed it shut. Sofía was going to give it to the bishop tomorrow at church.
“How do you feel?” Papá asked Sofia.
“So happy! And I still have money for a yo-yo.” She felt Heavenly Father was happy with her choice.

Chen, Yang Su-yuan has been blind since 1981, when she developed complications after cataract surgery. But losing her eyesight helped her find the gospel and ultimately helped her see the importance of temple and family history work.
Having recently gone blind, Sister Chen didn’t realize that the two young ladies at her door asking for a glass of water were missionaries. Inviting them in made all the difference in her life.
“Most people considered me useless because I was blind,” Sister Chen says. “But that’s not what God wanted to tell me. He sent me missionaries after I lost my sight to teach me that we are all the children of God and that He ransomed us at a great price. I learned my worth because of the ransom Jesus paid. I am priceless.”
Since then, Sister Chen has served in many callings in the Chung Li First Ward, Tao Yuan Taiwan Stake, as well as serving in the temple since 1992.

In 1920, then-Elder David O. McKay of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles began a yearlong tour of the missions of the Church. By May 1921, he was standing in a small cemetery in Fagali‘i, Samoa, before the well-tended graves of three small children, the daughter and two sons of Thomas and Sarah Hilton. These little ones—the oldest was two—died during the time Thomas and Sarah served as a young missionary couple in the late 1800s.

Before he left Utah, Elder McKay promised Sarah, now a widow, that he would visit her children’s graves in Samoa as she had never been able to return there. Elder McKay wrote back to her, “Your three little ones, Sister Hilton, in silence most eloquent … carry on your noble missionary work begun nearly thirty years ago.” Then he added a verse of his own composition:
By loving hands their dying eyes were closed,
By loving hands their little limbs composed,
By foreign hands their humble graves adorned,
By strangers honor’d, and by strangers mourned.

This story is but one of thousands, hundreds of thousands, that speak of the time, treasure, and lives sacrificed over the last 200 years to share the message of the Restoration.