Gospel Story Finder

You come home from school and ask your mom what’s for dinner. She tells you it’s soup and bread, and she asks you to hang up your jacket. You’re about to go out with some friends when she reminds you that you need to practice the bodhran for a while.
Have you stepped into a parallel universe? Is this some kind of weird dream? What in the world is a bodhran?
It’s all part of daily life for the Bigney brothers of Woodland Hills, Utah, because their family’s Celtic music group is a priority, and the boys have to practice.
Alex, Sam, and Simeon Bigney, ages 18, 16, and 14, respectively, make up the group Kirkmount, and though their music isn’t exactly the stuff you hear on the radio, it definitely appeals to a lot of people.
“Our music is interesting because it spans a generation gap,” says Alex. “Old people like to listen to it, but kids our age come out and think it’s really cool, too.”
Part of what makes it “cool” is that the three boys do all the music themselves. Alex plays the harp and the bones (and yes, the “bones” are exactly what they sound like they are); Sam plays the fiddle; and Simeon plays the cello and the aforementioned bodhran (pronounced “bow-run”), which is a sort of Gaelic drum.
Whatever happened to the piano, or the guitar, or even the clarinet?
“We’re not aware of any other group anywhere that has this particular arrangement of instruments,” Alex says. “But they’re all very traditional Celtic instruments.”
“Celtic,” by the way, is pronounced with a “K” sound at the beginning, and it refers primarily to the region of Ireland, Scotland, and Wales. Bagpipes are a Celtic instrument you may have heard before, and Enya is a popular Celtic musician.
Aside from the choice of instruments, Kirkmount differs even from other Celtic groups because of their music—they write most of it themselves.
“It’s not extremely common for groups to write their own music,” says Sam, who does most of the writing for Kirkmount. “Some people will write a tune or two, but not a lot.”
Sam’s first tune was called “Late Summer Aire.” He first got a taste of fame when he and his brothers attended a fiddle camp—yes, a fiddle camp—in northern California, and the whole camp wound up playing his song. After that, the boys were hooked.
What brought them to a fiddle camp in the first place? That’s where the family ties come in. The boys’ grandfather used to invite them frequently to go to a Scottish fiddling camp with him, but they always declined.
“But one year, our grandparents were going to Ukraine on a mission. We weren’t going to see them for a while, so we decided we’d better go to the camp,” says Alex. “We went and really enjoyed the music, and that’s how we got started.”
The boys’ parents, Alex and Marilyn, began hiring professional musicians to come do workshops at the Bigney home. About 20 or so have been through, and many of them have done shows with the Bigneys afterwards, the money going to help pay for expenses. (The income from Kirkmount’s two CDs helps cover costs, too.)
It’s really a family affair. Sister Bigney says her husband “knows how to critique. He critiques the boys, and he listens, and he knows enough about Celtic music to help them. He has an exceptional ear.”
What about Mom? She supports. “I took them to their lessons for quite a few years,” she says. “I’m a great expert—on paper. I’m a great appreciator of music.”
Eventually, even the boys’ younger sisters, Miriam and Falcon, will get in on the act, as they are learning to play the viola and guitar.
“It would be really great to have a whole family thing,” Sam says. “It’s not something many people do as a family.”
How strong are the family ties with the Bigneys? Well, they practice about two hours a day together on the average, but sometimes it’s as much as eight hours. And they don’t really get tired of each other.
“We have our small quarrels,” Sam says, “but I think even the music helps us to solve those and come to an understanding of each other. I think music can touch people in ways that words can’t.”
The name Kirkmount is the name of the small village in Nova Scotia where their grandfather grew up. (Their great-great-grandfather, Simeon Bigney, was one of the first members of the Church there.) The covers of their CDs are collages of old family photos. Their ancestors were Celtic and played many of the same tunes that the Bigneys play now.
“We’re carrying on a tradition,” Alex says.
And Sister Bigney adds, “It’s important for people to find out what their traditions are, and music is one of those important things that helps you understand how your ancestors felt, what they did for entertainment, all the emotions they had. Music is a language.”
Alex says, “This music helps us get closer to our grandparents. They come to many of the shows, whenever they can, and they’ve supported us all through our musical experience.”
This family is tied together so much that Sam and his grandfather are even home teaching companions.
Obviously, the group has a strong interest in genealogy and family bonds. Sam explains that one of the highlights of his musical career so far has been playing his fiddle at the graves of some of his ancestors in Nova Scotia.
Furthermore, the group’s travels have taken them to Boston, where their father lived as a youth. Simeon (whose name is pronounced like “Simon”) says seeing where his dad went to church “was a good experience,” as was spending so much quality time with his brothers.
The Bigneys’ music doesn’t have any lyrics, so it’s difficult to express any kind of particular message in a song. But their music is expressive in its own way, creating moods and feelings pretty well. The music makes you feel like you’ve been taken back in time, and taken to Ireland. And since the gospel should be part of everything we do, the Bigneys manage to tie it all together.
“We don’t say onstage ‘Yes, we’re LDS,’ but I think people know,” Alex says. “Since we come from Utah, there have been people who come up and say, ‘Are you Mormon?’”
Sam adds, “We try to set a good example for people. The music helps us realize that God gives us talents, and we hope we can use them to our best abilities and share them with other people.” The Bigneys feel they must rely on the Lord when they perform.
“As we’re playing the music, we really become aware of whether the Spirit is with us or not,” Alex says. “If we don’t have the right spirit with us, we know we don’t play as well.” As a result, the group always has a prayer before they perform.
“You have to realize where the talents are coming from,” Alex says.
But it’s not all play and no work for Kirkmount. The boys practice every day, and while they enjoy all the regular teenage boy stuff—basketball, hiking, reading, and what-not—sometimes the music has to take them away from those things. They’ve sometimes missed ward basketball games and Boy Scout campouts because they had performances.
“But our Young Men and Young Women groups are pretty supportive,” says Sam. “They’ve come to our shows before.”
And so in the end, it’s all worth it. The stronger love for their immediate family, the more powerful connection to their grandfather and distant ancestors, the satisfaction they get from using the talents God has given them to uplift others—all that makes everything worthwhile. “The music helps me to know who I am,” says Sam, “and to express myself in a way that words can’t. We want to help, not only ourselves, but other people gain a testimony as well. Music can touch hearts.”

For a while when he was 14, Aleksey Kulikov was a man without a country.
Though his mother was from St. Petersburg, she had taken work in Nuremberg, Germany. While there, she and Aleksey met the missionaries, studied the gospel, were baptized, and became active Latter-day Saints.
Now they had to leave Germany. The government said noncitizens on work visas must return to their homelands. To make matters worse, Aleksey and his mother were told their papers were no longer valid in Russia.
“Officially,” Aleksey explains, “we had no citizenship anywhere.”
Things seemed pretty dark, but Aleksey and his mother knew about faith.
“I remembered what the missionaries taught me,” Aleksey says. “If you have problems, then pray about them. So we asked Heavenly Father to bless us.”
From then on, the trip became easier. “We found out we did have Russian citizenship. When officials found out we were carrying all we owned, they waived the luggage restriction. At the Lithuanian border, some kind soldiers took pity on us and kept us from being forced off the train. They even called ahead to the next border and asked them to let us pass. So we came without trouble to St. Petersburg.”
After six years, they were home. But what would the city be like, now that the Soviet Union was gone? What would the Church be like, compared with their wonderful friends in Nuremberg?
“We were delighted with what we found,” Aleksey remembers. “The city had a happier feeling. Some beautiful buildings were being renovated. But best of all, we found there is a new dawn of the Church in St. Petersburg. We knew the gospel had been restored, but now we know it’s been restored here too.”
Aleksey is now 17, a member of the Nevsky Branch. His greatest desire is to serve a full-time mission, “perhaps in Germany.” But it doesn’t matter where he’s called. “I know there’s gospel light to share wherever you go,” he says.

A few months before I left on my mission, I stumbled upon some anti-Mormon articles. These articles presented misconstrued information about Church history and Joseph Smith that left my testimony shaken. I tried to brush aside my concerns, but I grew anxious when they continued to linger. Questions loomed in my mind. Could I serve a mission if I still had questions about the gospel? Would it be better if I stayed home? I fervently prayed to the Lord, asking Him to help me answer my questions and strengthen my faith, but the answers didn’t come immediately.
I realized that to restore my faith, I needed to turn to the scriptures for answers. I started reading the Book of Mormon, looking for scriptures that could lead me to the revelation I desperately needed. And then I came across a verse in 1 Nephi, in which Nephi replies to an angel’s question, saying: “I know that he [God] loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things” (1 Nephi 11:17).
As I read this verse, I realized that I didn’t have to know “the meaning of all things”—and I wouldn’t receive all the answers in this life. But as Nephi leaned on his testimony when he faced a concept he didn’t understand, I could also rely on what I did know, and go forward with faith.
Since that experience, I often follow what President Henry B. Eyring, Second Counselor in the First Presidency, taught, “We will find answers in the scriptures” (“A Discussion on Scripture Study,” Ensign, July 2005, 24). I always rely on this truth when I lack understanding. Just as the scriptures prepared Joseph and Oliver to receive the first ordinance in the restored Church, they continually lead me on the path to further revelation and light.

I had always planned on serving a mission when I turned 20, the age of missionaries at the time. After playing two seasons of football at Utah State University, I had a difficult decision to make. I knew that, at that time, very few returned missionaries played football after their missions. I had put a lot of effort into football, and I loved the game. I decided to delay my mission a few months so I could play one more season and then serve a mission. By the end of that season, I had won the starting quarterback position for the next year.
My coach was surprised and disappointed that after all my hard work in football, I was going to leave. He encouraged me to stay and play my final season. He couldn’t understand why I would walk away from this opportunity. I listened to his comments and his logic, but I told him that I could not wait another year to go on my mission. If I did, I feared I would miss my opportunity to serve a mission. After all my hard work in football, I said good-bye to the team and left for Great Britain to serve the Lord.
I never regretted that decision. I learned so many things on my mission. To witness people embracing the gospel was an incredible experience, which shaped the rest of my life in many important ways. My mission helped make me into the person I am today and had far greater impact on me than football ever could have.

A recent LDS.org video titled “A Friend to All” illustrates a great example of this principle. In the video Elder Ulisses Soares shared the story of his family’s conversion to the Church when he was a young boy. His parents struggled with some of the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ, but Elder Soares described how the members of their branch embraced them, helped them, and loved them. Elder Soares went on to explain that we are all children of God and are put on the earth in different circumstances. When we understand people, their conditions, and their circumstances, we can then love them. Elder Soares taught that love is a Christlike attribute; it is through our expressions of love that people will feel the love of the Savior. We are simply the instruments in God’s hand to lead others to that love.

My family and I learned that the Lord is willing to help us in money matters years ago, while I was in my medical training in Salt Lake City. Sister Davis and I would have our small children say their prayers out loud with us. Our oldest boy, Taylor, gave a rather brief prayer one evening that consisted only of asking the Lord for $10 so he could buy a toy workbench. We both wondered whether a prayer like that was really okay or not, but decided to leave it alone.

The next day, our 90-year-old neighbor from across the street, named Jim Downward, knocked on our front door. When Sonja opened the door, he handed her $10 and told her that it was for our little boy. She, of course, was surprised and amazed, and asked Jim why he had done this. He just answered that he didn't know, and then turned around and returned home. Through that experience, we were reminded that the Lord hears and answers his children's prayers, usually through the actions of others.

To illustrate how the Lord works through young missionaries, such as many of you, as well as through his living prophets, I would like to share something of the history of the architectural plans of the Nauvoo Temple, how they were preserved for more than 100 years and eventually came into possession of the Church and which the Church had at the time President Hinckley made that surprising announcement that it would be reconstructed.

As mentioned before, Brother William Weeks was commissioned as the architect and when the saints were driven from Nauvoo, he brought the plans with him. Not many years after they arrived in the Salt Lake Valley, some kind of conflict arose between him and President Brigham Young. William Weeks left the Church and took his family and the architectural plans to California. As a result of his defection, his entire posterity grew up outside the Church and its blessings.

Incidentally and parenthetically, there is a message there for all of us about the importance of our remaining faithful to our covenants and what can happen to us and those who follow us if we do not.

In 1948, more than 100 years since the plans were drawn, young Elder Vern Thacker of Charleston, up by Heber City, Utah, in Wasatch County, and his companion, were serving as missionaries like many of you have served or will serve. They were doing their duty knocking on doors one very hot and dry day in the little town of Boron, California, way out in the Mojave Desert. I think it was more than a coincidence that they made contact with a Mr. Leslie Griffin, who at that time was almost seventy years of age. He told them that he was a grandson of William Weeks, the architect. Just before Elder Thacker was to be released and return to his home, Mr. Griffin went to a back room in his house and brought out the roll of the original architectural plans for the Nauvoo Temple. Brother Thacker described the roll as being about three or four feet long and ten inches in diameter. They were the original plans which had been handed down from one generation to another in his family. He requested that Elder Thacker take them to Church headquarters since he and his family agreed that it would be more appropriate for the Church to have them. Elder Thacker tucked them in the trunk of his 1935 Ford coupe and brought them to Church headquarters.

As a result, more than fifty years later, when President Hinckley made the announcement of the re-construction of the Nauvoo Temple, the plans were in possession of the Church and thus it could be restored on the original site and as near its original external appearance as possible.

I've thought it providential that those plans were physically located for all those years in the area of the dry climate of the Mojave Desert rather than in some humid area of the country where they may not have survived in as good a condition as they were. There is no question in my mind that the Lord's hand was in it.

After returning home from my mission, I took over the lawn-care business my brothers and I had started as teenagers. I was also busy with my university studies. One spring week, heavy rain and looming final exams left me overwhelmed and behind on yard work.
Midweek the skies cleared, and I planned to catch up on yard work after classes. But when I arrived home, my truck and equipment were gone. Curious, I visited the scheduled yards; each one had already been beautifully trimmed. At the last yard on the schedule, I saw my younger brother walking behind the mower. He saw me, smiled, and waved. Overcome with gratitude, I hugged and thanked him. His meaningful act of service deeply strengthened my love and loyalty for him. Serving each other is an unmistakable way we show our love for God and His Beloved Son.

Years later I began dating a woman named Rubí. She was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, though she was not active. We were together for three years when she began to feel the desire to go to church. She would ask me to go with her, but I always refused.
One day the missionaries came to our door. They gave me a Book of Mormon and left me with reading assignments. I read what they requested but felt nothing. I also attended church but was always skeptical. Even so, I felt I needed to keep reading the Book of Mormon. God was calling me again.
As I continued reading, I started to feel that the book was true. My faith was growing. When I reached 3 Nephi 13:9–13 and read the Lord’s Prayer, the Spirit flooded over me. I broke into sobs. God was calling me a third time. This time I listened.
My faith in God grew. I wanted to know more. In a short time, I read all the standard works. I continued attending church, and after Rubí and I married, I was baptized. I will never forget the joy I felt when I was confirmed a member of the Church.

One tragedy of love has already occurred this year. A beardless youth became so enamored of a young miss (although she did not encourage him) that each day for 47 consecutive days he wrote her a special-delivery letter, until finally, on the 48th day, she eloped with the mailman. The lad is probably blessed, since all he had to offer the lady was a mission yet unserved, a college education one quarter complete, and no funds (he had spent all of his money on stamps).

In 2004, I was managing the completion of the Manhattan New York Temple project. As a Church Project Manager, I was responsible to hire a professional construction company to ensure that the design approved by the First Presidency and Presiding Bishopric was indeed delivered on schedule and according to the design. The temple in Manhattan is very unique. It was constructed within an existing multi-level, multi-use building that required an interior renovation to become a temple. The only other temple to have multiple uses within the structure of the building is the Hong Kong China Temple. When we began, the temple design was comprised of a part of the ground floor for the Baptistery and the fifth and sixth floors for other ordinance and administrative spaces. The second, third and fourth floors of the building were used by the members as meetinghouse space. Through the course of the project the temple space grew to include a clothing issue and Public Affairs offices on the second floor and some other administrative office spaces on the fourth floor. Another item added was a steeple topped by an Angel Moroni statue. When new space is added to a project it requires new designs, modifications to the contract, additional funds and additional time. We try to incorporate enough time in the project to accommodate some minor changes, but not to the extent of the changes required to complete the Manhattan New York Temple. When I was asked to add a steeple and Angel Moroni to the temple, we had completed the interior finishes of one of the endowment rooms on the fifth floor and the Public Affairs offices on the second floor. Because the steeple was to be placed upon the outside corner of the building, the structural design required us to run steel columns and beams from the underground parking level of the building to the roof. The general contractor had to remove and replace all of the newly placed finishes to accommodate the new design. With only 3.5 months remaining to the temple dedication, I received instructions to replace the exterior façade to the temple on the street level, which consisted of commercial storefronts which were not consistent with the exterior of a temple. This may seem like a simple task of replacing a wall, but my efforts were met with insurmountable obstacles that only the hand of the Lord could overcome.

I prescribe to a technique taught by President Gordon B. Hinckley as described in his book entitled, Standing for Something. President Hinckley said,
“If there is any one thing that you and I need, to help us find success and fulfillment in this world it is faith – that dynamic powerful, marvelous element by which, as Paul declared, the very worlds were framed. I refer not to some ethereal concept but to a practical, pragmatic, working faith – the kind of faith that moves us to get on our knees and plead with the Lord for guidance, and then, having a measure of divine confidence, get on our feet and go to work to help bring the desired results to pass.” [9]
After pleading with the Lord for guidance on how to accomplish the task before me and not receiving an immediate answer to my prayer, I pondered the steps required to building the façade of the temple. I got on my feet and scheduled a meeting with the general contractor.
I sat across the table from the superintendent for the general contractor and relayed to him our latest challenge and dilemma. Picture in your mind a man already stressed and challenged to complete the project on time to allow the Open House to proceed as scheduled. Invitations had been sent to visiting VIPs and there was no latitude to extend the contract time to complete the project. President Hinckley scheduled the temple dedication almost one year earlier due to his tight schedule. The superintendent, a non-member, sat silently for a moment before responding. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Cory, what you are asking us to do is impossible with the remaining time before the Open House and Dedication. You need to let your prophet know it cannot be done. Our company cannot take on that liability and will not do this added work.” Obviously, the superintendent didn’t know what a prophet was and from whom he received direction. My heart sank. I didn’t know what to do. I returned to my hotel in a daze, wondering how to proceed. I earnestly pondered the situation for a few days. After letting my supervisors know that the general contractor refused to help with this new directive and that I didn’t know how best to proceed, I went to my knees. I pleaded for guidance and direction. When I arose I reflected upon President Hinckley’s words and had a renewed confidence that I needed to pursue every possible solution to bring this task to completion. I could not see how the temple could realistically be completed on time, but I knew that if President Hinckley said the temple would be dedicated on a certain day, I had to commit to doing everything I could to make it happen. And so the journey began.

It was the beginning of March 2004. I had approximately 2.5 months before the Open House and 3.5 months before the Temple Dedication, which was scheduled for mid-June.
The architects had created a design for the façade or wall of the temple, but that was only the first step in the process. The façade design incorporated a large quantity of ¾” thick polished Italian marble. Other steps necessary to complete this task were to find and purchase the marble stone for the wall, produce shop drawings showing how the stone would be installed and fabricate the shop tickets, which tell the stone cutter the sizes in which to cut the stone. Then the stone needed to be installed and some kind of decorative landscaping element added to soften the look and feel of the walkway outside the temple.
Typically, it takes 4 – 6 months to receive a shipment of stone after the shop tickets are delivered to the stone fabricator or stone cutter. Having managed several temple projects previously, I was aware of some stone suppliers and fabricators. I called them to see if there was any ¾” thick polished Italian marble available. Within a week of informing the superintendent of the need to add a façade to the project design, I had called every stone supplier I knew of, but found no one that could help me.
While pursuing the stone, I also knew that I had to find someone to produce the stone shop tickets, which details each individual stone’s dimensions. I called several firms, but their work load prevented them from taking on another job, especially one that needed to be completed within the next few weeks.
I was at a loss as to what to do next. Constantly seeking for guidance and trusting in the Spirit to provide that guidance, I continued to press forward calling and pleading with anyone I could think of. I spread word of my dilemma throughout the United States and Canada. A week later one of the firms called me and asked if I still needed help in producing shop drawings and the stone shop tickets.

Miraculously, a two-week window opened in the firm’s schedule that allowed them to take on this project. Two weeks was just the right amount of time required to complete the entire job. Almost in tears, I gratefully asked, “Yes, how soon can you begin?” We began producing the shop drawings and fabrication tickets without having any stone yet. A few weeks later, about a month after my conversation with the project superintendent, I received a call from a stone supplier that said he had received a call from a loading dock in Los Angeles, California, that had a shipment of ¾” thick polished Italian marble sitting in a container. Apparently the buyer who purchased the stone many months earlier no longer needed or wanted the stone. The shipping container held the exact amount of stone we needed to within 10 square feet of what the design called for. I gratefully purchased the stone. Now I needed a place to send the stone to be cut and fabricated.
I placed several calls to find a stone fabricator, who would take the stone and cut it to the sizes specified by the designers. Every fabricator I called said their production lines were scheduled out for months and couldn’t be interrupted. Days later I was notified by a fabricator that he had a window suddenly become open and could cut the stone. I immediately called the individual who found the container of stone in Los Angeles and gave him an address to ship the stone. I then called the firm producing the shop drawings and fabrication tickets and requested that the drawings and tickets immediately be sent to the stone fabricator. The stone fabrication would take 3 – 5 weeks, meaning stone installation would commence a week or two before the Open House and continue until the time of the temple dedication.
Meanwhile, the work to complete the interior of the temple continued. The superintendent watched in disbelief as things miraculously came together with the façade.
The final step in this process was to install the stone on the façade. I called several installers and none had the time or willingness to come to New York and install stone on such short notice. Once again the Lord intervened. Several days later I received a call from an out-of-state installer that said a project had fallen through and he now had a crew available to install stone if I still needed them. I called my superintendent and we arranged for the crew to come to New York when the first shipment of stone arrived, which was about the end of April.

As the crew mobilized to begin work, we were again interrupted. Unions are very prominent in New York. The Union began to form picket lines at the temple site because our workers were not from New York. The designated completion date for the project was rapidly approaching, but once again the work was halted while we worked on toward an equitable solution. Through creative negotiating, we were able to resolve the union issue amicably and resume work. It was now the beginning of May and time for the Open House to begin. In spite of the numerous delays we had encountered, the work on the façade of the temple had steadily progressed, and of necessity, continued through the Open House. Even with this disruption, visitors could feel the sacredness of the temple. There were moments when I worried that the temple wouldn’t be completed in time for the dedication, but we continued to press forward. After many long days and long hours, the work was finally completed at the last possible moment. The last planter was placed in the temple entry within 30 minutes of President Hinckley’s arrival to tour the temple just prior to the dedication on June 13, 2004. After the dedication of the Manhattan New York temple, the project superintendent approached me to say it was an absolute miracle we had finished the temple in time. I knew what he didn’t. It was entirely through the Lord’s hand that the temple was finished in time for the dedication. Faith requires that we do all we can to bring about the things we hope and pray for.

I guess it was about ten years ago,
but I remember it so clearly.
I was sitting in front of my mom’s
makeup mirror at the kitchen table.
Curiously, I pulled my stringy brown hair
away from my face.
A plain reflection stared back at me.
I didn’t notice
that my dad had been watching the whole time.
He grinned and said,
“Are you trying to see the face
your Heavenly Father sees?”
At the time, I couldn’t figure out how to answer
or why he even asked me that.
But now, I don’t think he really wanted an answer.
Fathers are just like that.

The big shiny coin sparkled in the sunlight. Alvin twisted the coin this way and that, just to see the way the sun shone off it. A real silver dollar!

Alvin had worked almost the whole day at his neighbor’s farm to earn that coin. His overalls were dirty, and he was hot and sweaty. But it was worth it. He couldn’t wait to show Mother his coin. He was going to add it to his box of important stuff.

The creaky screen door slammed shut behind him as he ran inside. He found Mother sitting in the rocking chair, folding a pile of clothes from the clothesline.

“Look what Mr. Jackson gave me for working for him today.” He held up the big coin for her to see. “A whole silver dollar!”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, Alvin! You must have worked hard.”

“I sure did!” said Alvin. “I’m going to keep this dollar forever.” He rubbed the coin with his shirt to get off any smudges.

“Well,” said Mother, “make sure to pay your tithing on what you earned.” She added another shirt to the stack. “That might mean you have to get smaller coins in exchange for your dollar.”

Alvin looked down at his beautiful coin. He didn’t want a bunch of little coins instead of his first silver dollar. “But … I just want to keep it!” Tears pricked his eyes, and he ran out of the kitchen and down the porch steps.

He stomped through the high grass. “I don’t have to pay tithing,” he muttered to himself. He picked up a stick and swung it back and forth across the tall, dry weeds.

Suddenly Alvin stopped in his tracks. He knew tithing was important. He wanted to give tithing. But how? He didn’t have any other coins. All he had was his one silver dollar. How could he pay the 10 cents for his tithing?

Alvin sighed. He would just have to give up his coin. It was the right thing to do.

Alvin kept walking. Soon he heard talking and singing coming from near the bank of the river. He put up his hand to block his eyes from the setting sun. A family was camped by the river. He had met them before. Sometimes they traded things with his mother.

He looked closer. The dad and grandpa had their fishing poles out. Then Alvin had an idea. He took his stick and started digging in the wet dirt along the riverbank. He dug up 11 worms and walked toward the camp by the river.

The men smiled and waved at Alvin.

“Hi,” said Alvin. “Do you need any more worms?”

“We sure do,” said the grandpa. He pulled his empty fishing hook out of the water. “We just ran out.”

Alvin held out the 11 squirming worms. “Would you like some?”

“How much?” asked the dad. He reached in his pocket to get some coins.

“Just a penny each,” said Alvin.

“Well, that’s a bargain.” The man counted out 11 pennies. “You stopped by just in time for us to catch our dinner.”

“Thank you!” said Alvin as he collected his pennies. “Good luck with the fish!”

Alvin hurried back home and showed Mother his coins. “Now I have enough money to pay tithing for my silver dollar and for the money I earned from selling the worms!”

Alvin was grateful he got to keep his coin. But he was also proud of himself for deciding to pay his tithing, no matter what.

In my current role as a teacher I have the opportunity to work with students over the course of several years. Through these prolonged associations I have the chance to get to know these students on a more personal level. It is with the permission of one such former student that I share the following story.

In most ways Julie was a typical student. She was bright and articulate, and she enjoyed all the blessings of being raised in the restored gospel. I knew a little of her family background. Her parents were former mission presidents and her siblings were strong in the faith. Julie married a wonderful man who had also been raised in the gospel. I was surprised that they didn’t choose the temple to make their marital covenants, nor did they embrace the gospel in their new life together. I often thought of Julie and her husband and would occasionally see them around town with their growing family. I wondered how they were doing and if they would once again embrace the gospel.

Several years ago I spent an extended amount of time in Nauvoo. I enjoyed visiting the historical sites of the Church and was particularly touched as I stood on the property of one of my ancestors, a pioneer of the Church—James Sawyer Holman. I marveled at the roster that showed the date when he received his temple endowments in the Nauvoo Temple. It became very clear to me that the unwavering faith of James Sawyer Holman and other ancestors had provided me with the blessings of the restored gospel. In my mind’s eye I could see that I was the last link in the chain of a long line of faithful members of the Church. I pondered how different my life would be if one of those ancestors had made different choices. Suddenly it occurred to me that my responsibility was to remain strong in my faith not only for my sake but also for the sake of my children and my posterity. In a new way I understood that my decisions didn’t just affect me.

Several days later, while sitting in my apartment, I continued to ponder this personal revelation. Suddenly the name of this former student—Julie—came to my mind. It had been years since I had seen Julie and her husband or had even thought about them. The thought came to my mind that I should share these thoughts with them, that I should tell them they are links in their own chain for their own posterity. At first I pushed aside these feelings, but as they persisted I followed through and began to write a thoughtful letter. I admit I questioned if what I felt was truly a spiritual prompting or just my own thoughts. I finished the letter and reluctantly sent it, not knowing if I had overstepped my bounds. I received no response.

Several years have passed since I sent the letter, and the original circumstances are now far from my memory. A few months ago my wife came home from the grocery store and said that she had bumped into Julie while shopping.

During their conversation Julie said, “Please tell your husband thank you for the letter he wrote many years ago about being a strong link in our chain. He should know that my husband and I are now married in the temple. My husband is the elders quorum president in our ward, and I am serving in the Young Women organization. We now have an eternal family.”

At first when I was told this I didn’t recall writing the letter, but upon further reflection I did remember the strong feelings many years ago that resulted in my writing the letter. For me this experience is a stone added to my personal monument—one that helps me remember the importance of following the promptings of the Holy Ghost.

Previously: Franco asked permission to go to church with Matt. And Matt tried a spicy soup called posole.
That soup was good. But I thought I was going to breathe fire like a dragon!
Well, the spices can take some getting used to.
Next time I might need a bigger glass of milk! Thanks again for lunch.
So, Dad, can I go to church with Matt?
I don’t think so, boys. Our family’s been in our church for many generations.
Later, at Matt’s house …
Franco’s dad is a good man who wants the best for his son. He’s being cautious.
Sigh. I guess.
That night …
Franco’s still my best friend. And his dad’s great too. We don’t have to be the same to be friends.
Good thing … ’cause I’m pretty different from everyone!

A few years ago, my mother was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Knowing that she would pass through great agony and that death would inevitably take her, I arranged a trip to the sacred Church sites in upstate New York—just the two of us. It was my way to create some one-on-one time and to say good-bye. At one point, as we were driving together toward the Sacred Grove, I reached out and took her hand. I told her how much I loved her and how grateful I was for all that she had given me, all she meant to me. I told her how sorry I was for the little things that I had done along the way that had caused her disappointment or pain. I will never forget what she said. She squeezed my hand and, her eyes glowing, said, “Oh, Doug, you don’t understand, do you? I forgave you those things before you ever did them.”

Oh, the love of a parent for her imperfect child! I testify that our Father’s love is like that—except it is even more complete. He is your Father. Regardless of where you have been or where you are now, He wants you, as His child, to learn and to grow from your experiences—even from the mistakes that He knew you would make. He wants you to properly put them behind you through the miraculous gift of the Atonement. He wants you to experience joy in your progress toward Him. And He wants you to complete that difficult but infinitely rewarding journey, safely and successfully.

In high school I ran cross-country and distance track. I was never very good, but I enjoyed running and worked hard. One day my team was scheduled for a cross-country meet that took place on a particularly hilly course. I’d been practicing hard, so as we lined up in our starting positions, I said a silent prayer to Heavenly Father to ask if He would bless me with success in accordance to my hard work.
The gunshot sounded, and we were off. The first mile was flat and I was feeling pretty well, so I began to run even faster. Surely this was going to be my finest race! Then came the first hill. I ran up as fast as I could and came tearing down the other side. But then there was another hill. This one was even steeper, and I quickly lost my momentum. I started feeling like I might fall down the other side. I held it together, but when I came around the next corner, I saw multiple hills to come. Before long I became very tired. By mile two, other runners continually passed me. I became frustrated with myself for taking the first part of the race so fast, using all the energy that I needed now. I wanted to give up and walk off the course.
I decided to say another silent prayer. I asked my Father in Heaven to bless me with the ability to finish the race. Then the thought came, “Sometimes life gets hard, and it’s all you can do to keep running, but in the end you’ll be glad you didn’t give up and walk.” I was able to finish the race, and while I didn’t run the amazing race I’d wanted to, I gained something that has helped me ever since—a sense for how it may feel to endure to the end.

Last summer we had a perfect summer planned. Two of our sons were getting married, and we would fill our now empty nest with all of our children and grandchildren at each wedding. It would be a perfect summer. And we truly did have two wonderful gatherings and two wonderful weddings: the first in May in the Salt Lake Temple and the second in August in the Mesa Temple.

But something else happened last summer.

One week after the first wedding, one of our twin daughters found a huge lump in her neck and came home for tests. It was determined that she had Hodgkin’s disease, a type of cancer of the lymph nodes. She began a regimen of treatment by chemotherapy on June 1.

Then in August, just a week before the second wedding, I found out that I would need to soon have major surgery to remove cancer from my colon.

The timing of both illnesses allowed us to have our wonderful family gatherings at both weddings, and Julia still had hair for the family pictures in August! What a blessing! In fact, the wonderful blessings we have received and the growth we experienced individually and as a family are immeasurable.

It was a perfect alfalfa field summer. The ruts and gullies facilitated the flow of the living waters of our Savior Jesus Christ as we sought Him through our trials.

While serving on my first mission, my companion and I were privileged to teach the wonderful family of Tony and Norma Johnson. This family lived in Ellesmere Port, England. One of the missionary discussions suggested that a truly repentant person would want to confess all of his wrongdoings to the Lord in prayer. The discussion suggested that a large blanket confession was inadequate because an individual should confess all sins in some detail.

Three days later, we again visited with the Johnson family. Brother Johnson, then Mr. Johnson, looked terrible. When we asked him what was wrong, he informed us that he had not slept for three nights. He indicated that he would finish one prayer, get into bed, and then remember some other event or thought that he felt should be part of his confession prayer. He then would get out of bed and ask forgiveness for another wrongdoing.

I left our meeting that evening knowing I had never spent three nights on my knees asking for forgiveness. I had never come to that level of prayer when asking for forgiveness. It was required even of the Prophet Joseph: “Let no one, therefore, set on my servant Joseph; for I will justify him; for he shall do the sacrifice which I require at his hands for his transgressions, saith the Lord your God” (D&C 132:60).

At age seven, Joseph Smith contracted typhoid fever, and an infection settled in his leg. Dr. Nathan Smith was pioneering a procedure by which the infected leg could be saved. Without anesthesia, Dr. Smith would need to cut Joseph’s leg and actually remove portions of the infected bone. Joseph declined brandy to endure the pain and refused to be tied down but said, “I will have my father sit on the bed and hold me in his arms, and then I will do whatever is necessary.”1

What trials will our children face? Like Joseph Smith, our children can find the courage to “do whatever is necessary.” When we are intentional about holding them and teaching them of Heavenly Father’s plan through prayer and scriptures, they will come to know where they came from, why they are here, and where they are going.