Gospel Story Finder

One day at recess my friends and I were picking flowers off a tree. Some girls came up to us and told us we weren’t supposed to pick the flowers. We stopped picking the flowers and walked away. I told my friends we should tell the truth. We told a teacher that we had been picking the flowers for our teacher. The teacher said we could pick the flowers as long as we didn’t pull on the branches. I’m glad I told the truth.

Construction work on the Quezon City Chapel progressed fairly well. However, I encountered a little problem—the construction approach and methods used in the Philippines varied from the construction approach and methods I was used to in the United States. For instance, it was hard for me to get used to seeing so much timber set up prior to actual digging of the foundations but I learned soon that I cannot change the methods used and expect to get chapels constructed, at least right away. But one method that I insisted the contractors use is the use of pumped concrete to the ridged frames so that there will be a monolithic pour and not have any cold joints in the truss structure. The workers were not familiar with this method but later on the men worked well in handling the moveable pipes for the flow of the concrete.
About five months after construction work on the Quezon City Chapel started, work on another chapel—the Caloocan Chapel, began with the same contractor. The aesthetics of the chapel site and the chapel itself can be classed as possibly the best in Asia at that time.
Even before the Caloocan Chapel was finished we bid another chapel—the Clark-Angeles Chapel in 1972. Engineer Avelino V. Tanjuakio was the contractor who won the bid. Ground breaking was held on June 6, 1972 on the very day that the big flood of 1972 started. Construction work started on September 1972. This chapel became a landmark to travellers going to Baguio and the northern parts of the Philippines. It is located along the national road and people now are able to see a Mormon chapel springing up in their midst.
In 1973 President Carl D. Jones became the President of the Manila Mission. Plans to build more chapels were placed on the drawing board. We were also beginning to purchase more chapel sites.
After Clark-Angeles Chapel was completed, work on the Cavite Chapel started. It was interesting to note that laborers digging the foundations of the Cavite Chapel were always digging in one meter of water because the water table was almost ground level and we had two pumps constantly pumping out the water so that steel could be set and concrete poured. I respected those laborers for the way they worked and the conditions under which they worked. I had to learn tolerance to a greater degree than I had known before.
Members have now become excited with the building program. Until the Quezon City Chapel was constructed there was only one chapel in the Philippines. It is the Buendia Chapel which was reconstructed in 1974 due to the deterioration of the laminated trusses. A Stake office was also built within the chapel compound. The tremendous growth of the Church by now demanded the construction of more chapels. When the Cavite Chapel was finished and the reconstruction of the Buendia Chapel was accomplished, we planned the construction of chapels in the southern regions as all of the chapels so far built were in the Manila area.
In 1975 chapel construction was started in Davao, Bacolod and Cebu and they were completed in 1976. At this time the Marikina Chapel and Los Baños Chapel were constructed.
The Cebu Chapel was a construction challenge due to its location, being on the site of the last resistance of the Japanese in World War II and the hill it was constructed on had many tunnels which had to be sealed and filled. Because of its split level type of construction and its aesthetics, people from far and wide acclaim the Cebu Chapel as the best in Asia. It is a very prominent looking edifice which also serves as a missionary tool in proselyting.
By this time nine chapels were constructed and one rebuilt—the Buendia Chapel. In 1977 four more chapels were constructed for Pasay Ward, Manila Ward, Santa Mesa Ward and Baguio Branch, making a total of 13 chapels built and one rebuilt. At present there are a total of eleven chapels now to construct and/or ready for ground breaking. There are approximately 25 additional chapel sites and a Stake office to build, new Mission offices, building to be remodeled in Ozamis, and the remodeling of the Manila Mission office.
But with all these construction works, the highlight of my stay in this country is seeing the baptism of two fine men who worked with me—Juanito Gutierrez, my first contractor who is now Bishop of the Marikina Ward, and Engineer Avelino V. Tanjuakio who is now Governor Elect of the Kiwanis of Luzon. I will cherish my association with many wonderful people and friends especially my efficient secretary, Miss Nilda Austria.
My family and I will go home with our hearts full of love for the Filipino people and will long remember our experiences here in building chapels for the Lord. I have constructed many buildings in the million dollar bracket but I can say without reservations that the last eight years in the Philippines have been the greatest challenge of my life. Truly, the best eight years of our life have been well spent in the Philippines.
Since we arrived my family has increased three more. I now have two sons, David and Daniel, ages 5 and 8, and a daughter Rebecca Rachel, 3 years old. This is an actual fulfillment of our patriarchal blessings. Certainly, we will leave with mixed emotions when the time comes. My daughter LaVonne said, “Papa I don’t know anything except in the Philippines, I grew up here.” I think we all did a little.

When I was a young missionary, my companion Sister Diaz and I had a wonderful experience. One time, our monthly allowance was delayed, and we had to choose between using our money to eat that week or pay our fast offerings. That was all the money we had—no parents' credit cards for emergencies!

We decided to pay our fast offerings, and trust that the Lord would take care of us until we received our allowance. And that fast Sunday, the Lord showed us His power. As the meetings were finishing, a sister approached us and told us she had some extra fish and wanted to share it with us. Another sister shared some fruit from her tree, and another gave us a loaf of homemade bread.

Only the Father and Jesus Christ knew our situation and our hearts.

Sometimes the Lord teaches us to be faithful to Him in extreme circumstances. If I paid my fast offerings on that extreme occasion, I would do it on other occasions. [11]

The first addresses the finished quality of being easily entreated, which means to be approachable and accessible, to accept good counsel, and to have a listening, attentive ear.

Thirty-three years ago a brand-new missionary arrived in my missionary district. He brought with him his guitar. Our mission president, Bruce R. McConkie, suggested that he leave it in the mission home and pick it up in two years. I watched as he struggled briefly with taking another simple step toward finishing the quality of being easily entreated and then watched him take that small step. Five years ago my calling with the 19 BYU stakes involved me in the reorganization of one of them. This same individual, now an experienced priesthood leader, was assigned as part of his training to accompany a member of the Twelve to the reorganization. Again I watched, and this time saw him easily and anxiously glean principle after principle taught by the member of the Twelve. I appreciated his now-refined quality of being easily entreated. I wondered how crucial each of his small, earlier steps were. I also wondered what spiritual illness might have claimed him had he not learned to fit into that earlier unfinished quality by making spiritually intelligent eternal choices that reduce vulnerability.

In 1931 Amelia married George Palmer Putnam, a publisher who had interviewed her before her flight across the Atlantic. And in April of 1932 Amelia was eager to try another major flight. She had flown over one thousand hours in the preceding two years, but she wanted a new challenge. She decided to fly the Atlantic Ocean alone, in spite of the warnings of her friends and family.
On May 20, 1932, she climbed into her Lockheed Vega and took off from Harbor Grace, Newfoundland. The flight was torture. Heavy rain and fog enveloped the plane. Then ice began to form on the wings. Raw gasoline, leaking from a broken gauge, flooded the floor and made sickening fumes. Amelia began to fear that fire might break out at any time. Suddenly, the plane began to dive. The ice had weighted the wings too heavily. Amelia tried everything she’d learned from her past flying experience, and, finally, one hundred feet above the Atlantic, she pulled the plane up.
Hour after hour the plane droned on. Then a patch of green appeared. Ireland! Amelia had made the flight in fourteen hours and fifty-six minutes, becoming the first woman to fly solo across the Atlantic.
Before returning to America, she was entertained by European royalty. King George V and Queen Mary of England, Belgium’s King Albert, and dignitaries from several other nations decorated her.
America welcomed her home with more honors. She received the Distinguished Flying Cross from Congress and the National Geographic’s premier gold medal. Cheering crowds greeted her everywhere she went.

When my Young Women adviser suggested I do a Laurel value project about my family, I immediately knew we needed a family reunion.
I soon found out that planning a reunion takes time, persistence, and some hard work. It doesn’t hurt to have help from family members either. Here are some ideas that worked for me:
* Select a date. Choose a date well in advance for better attendance.
* Choose a meeting place. Use parks, pavilions, gymnasiums, or even backyards.
* Decide on a menu. Make food assignments or go potluck.
* Send out invitations. Make a list of all the relatives. Leave no one out.
* Plan activities that everyone will enjoy. Plan for swimming, board games, and art projects, just to name a few.
* Include a memento or souvenir of the reunion for each participant. Some families have screen-printed T-shirts. Others offer door prizes. The prizes can be as simple or ambitious as photos, scrapbooks, or recipe books.
* Don’t forget to send thank-you notes. Be sure to thank everyone who helped you with the planning and preparation or who donated their time or talents.
My reunion was hard work but so satisfying. I realize now what family reunions are all about.

Well, I look about you and you look like a convention of the teenagers that have graced our home while we have been raising our eight children, sharing with us hundreds of gallons of ice cream and great barrels of carmel popcorn. On one occasion, when I was downtown, I called home and a young man answered the phone. I asked for each of my children in turn and he said, “None of them are here right now.”

I said, “Oh? Who is this?”

He said, “This is Brent.”

“What are you doing, Brent?”

“Oh, Bill and I are just sitting here having some chocolate ice cream and watching television.”

It is always open house at our place, and they know it. I thanked him kindly and told him to keep taking messages, and if anyone needed me I would be home soon.

Elder and Sister Barlow served as mission leaders in Ecuador from 2017 to 2020, including at the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. During that time, many missionaries returned home, while other missionaries were reassigned to the Barlows’ mission. Elder and Sister Barlow witnessed the hand of the Lord directing those missionary efforts.

“We put our trust in the Lord,” he recalled. “There were times when we didn’t know what was going to happen the next day. We remained flexible and ready. We were prayerful, and it all worked out.”

This experience reinforced lessons he had been taught earlier that the Lord is in charge and that we can always trust Him.

Meet Mike Johnson and Curt Brinkman, two of the greatest wheelchair athletes. They’re breaking records and winning an impressive number of medals and trophies, not only in United States competitions, but at the Olympics as well.
First, here’s Curt. Today he is 25, but he has no difficulty recalling his 16th summer. “I was 2 meters tall, and I loved to play ball, especially basketball. I played on our high school team and even had dreams of playing professional basketball in New York.”
Curt grew up in Shelley, Idaho, where he could always find work on the neighboring farms. “I enjoyed working. I saved everything I earned as a boy, trying to get my missionary and college funds together.” Curt had saved six thousand dollars.
Curt’s accident happened one day during a break in his job.
“You know, sometimes young kids try crazy things. I looked at an electrical pole and thought, ‘That looks like something challenging to climb.’ So I did.” Witnesses told him that three electrical shocks held him in midair before he fell 7.6 meters and landed in mud. “The doctor said the impact of falling that far started my heart again, so now I’m alive. I lay there in the mud and thought, ‘I’ll never play ball again.’”
Curt spent six painful months in the hospital. He recalls that his family and friends helped greatly during that time. His close friends visited him regularly. His father kindly insisted he learn to be independent. The town held fund-raising campaigns to help pay medical expenses. When he returned to school, his classmates encouraged him and helped him see the brighter side of life. Curt graduated with his class.
Curt’s testimony helped him, too. He says, “I’m grateful to be a Mormon. I know this life is just a small speck in eternity. Someday I’ll have my legs and run again.”
Curt majored in business at Ricks College in Rexburg, Idaho, for a couple of years. There he met Bonnie Hymas. They were married December 20, 1975, in the Idaho Falls Temple. By coincidence, Mike and Jan Cryer were married a day earlier in the Provo Temple. The two couples had not met at that time. Bonnie and Curt now have a son, Gregory Adam, two years old, and a daughter, Lorian, five months. Gregory likes to somersault over the back of Curt’s wheelchair into Bonnie’s arms.
Mike and Jan have two sons, Seth, 2 1/2, and Matt, 1 1/2, and a daughter, Rachel, eight months. Mike is a few years older than Curt. He just turned 31, and Jan teases him about that. But he isn’t too old for wheelchair competitions. Mike says a man in his 50s won the slalom for class two in California.
Mike grew up in West Virginia, where his parents are members of the Church. He came to BYU as a freshman and fell in love with the mountains. He spent many hours hiking and hunting. Now he makes up wildlife stories each night for his sons. “I’d rather do that,” says Mike, “than just read a story from a book.”
Jan says Seth will listen carefully and then when a story is finished, say, “I didn’t like that story. Tell me another one.”
After his freshman year at BYU, Mike joined the marines. In Vietnam he stepped on a booby trap. Both of his legs had to be amputated. Like Curt, Mike’s recovery was a rough time. He, too, is grateful for the support of his family. Mike recalls: “My parents helped a lot. Dad told me to do my best and not to quit. He helped me have a desire to live.”
Mike returned to BYU in 1971. It was there he first saw Curt. “I watched him get out of his car. He really handled himself well, and I thought he’d make a good player on our wheelchair basketball team. I left a note on his car inviting him to come play.” That invitation started a continuing friendship.
They became involved in other competitions after a man they played basketball with in Denver, Colorado, told them they ought to get involved in track. This man sent information about national wheelchair competitions, and the two started working out on the BYU track. That was in 1976.
That same year they went to Denver, Colorado, and placed first in some track events there. Then they went to San Jose, California, and placed, and on to the Nationals in New York and the Olympics in Toronto, Canada. Forty-six countries participated in the Olympics. Together, Mike and Curt brought home three gold, one silver, and three bronze medals. That’s quite a record for their first year of competition!
Mike and Curt do not compete against each other. Curt competes in class five, and Mike in class four. Each athlete is put in a class according to his disability. The classes span from one to five, with class one for the most disabled.
Now look at their accomplishments individually.
Mike is outstanding in javelin throwing. He holds the national record of 26.74 meters for class four. Mike is also the best wheelchair competitor in the United States in the slalom. The slalom is an obstacle course to test skill and quickness, and Mike is very quick. Jan loves to watch the slalom competition. She exclaims: “It’s so exciting! Everybody watching it just goes wild.”
Jan recalls that because she couldn’t attend the Olympics, Mike called her after each event, and he placed in each event! He took first place in lawn bowling, even though he’d never competed in that before. He placed first in table tennis, second in the 100-meter dash, and third in javelin. Mike also holds gold medals in the 0.8 kilometers race, the 91 meter dash, and swimming.
At the Denver meet in 1976, Mike won five golds and one silver medal and the trophy for the Most Outstanding Male Athlete at the meet.
This year, Mike played 30 basketball games around the country. He is second in the nation for scoring. He also played tennis and has never been defeated in tennis in Utah in a singles match. How does he win at tennis? He says, “As soon as the ball leaves the other player’s racquet, I’ve got to know where it’s going. And I have quick reflexes.”
Mike didn’t travel to compete in track or field this year, even though he especially enjoys that area of competition. He says, “The games kept me away from home too much. I miss my track and field, but my family comes first.”
Jan adds, “Mike made the decision. He was the one who decided to stay home and be a husband, father, and gardener.”
Curt’s record is impressive, too. He placed second in the wheelchair division in April 1977 and again in 1978 at the Boston Marathon in Massachusetts. He completed the 41.8 kilometer (352 meter race) in two hours, 34 minutes, and 15 seconds.
The Boston Marathon is the biggest and oldest race in the U.S. and only the top athletes are selected to participate. This year there were 20 wheelchair competitors racing in temperatures below 40° Fahrenheit.
The wheelchair winner of the Boston Marathon this year was Ken Archer, a Mormon from Akron, Ohio. Curt says: “Ken is one of the greatest fellows I’ll ever meet. When he won, he came across the finish line with his hands raised in triumph and his head bowed in humility.”
In 1977 Curt placed in every event in Denver, Colorado, taking two first places in the 91 meter dash and the 1.6 kilometer push. In San Diego, California, he placed either second or third in five events. At San Jose, California, he took first in the 100 meters, breaking the world record. He also placed third in lawn bowling and discus and fourth in shotput.
The same year, Curt placed first in the wheelchair division at both the Deseret News Marathon in Salt Lake City, Utah, and the Pioneer Marathon in St. George, Utah. In 1978 he took first in the New York City Marathon and now holds the national record in the 1500-meter run.
Curt was voted Most Outstanding Athlete in 1978 and 1979 at the Denver Rocky Mountain Regional.
Both Mike and Curt are also involved in their careers. Mike has counseled at the State Hospital in Provo, Utah, worked as a draftsman for the Bureau of Reclamation, and is now majoring in health sciences at BYU. His goal is to coach college basketball.
Curt has gained experiences in various jobs. He was an insurance salesman, a desk clerk at a motel, a switchboard operator, and an insurance clerk for a hospital. Now he works at Handicapped Awareness, Inc. in Provo. He graduated with a B.S. degree in psychology from BYU in 1978 and is in the process of getting his masters in rehabilitation administration.
Church activities form another part of their lives. Mike works with the Explorers in the Alpine Fourth Ward, Alpine Utah Stake.
Curt and Bonnie are members of the Provo West Stake, Sunset Third Ward. Curt was the elders quorum president in a previous ward and is now the first counselor in the quorum presidency.
Service is another important part of their lives. To earn money for a specially equipped bus for the handicapped in Utah County, Mike and Curt earned pledges and then wheeled 185 kilometers around Utah Lake in 16 hours. As a sidelight they shattered the world record, which was 173.8 kilometers in eight days.
In May of 1978, Curt wheeled 457 kilometers from Cedar City, Utah, to Salt Lake City in five days, raising nearly twelve thousand dollars in pledges for Easter Seals (fund raising for research and help for the handicapped).
Curt says traveling has provided an opportunity for missionary work. He was invited to a party in Boston, Massachusetts, for 50 top athletes. When asked why he wouldn’t drink, he had the opportunity to share the gospel.
Curt finds it interesting that people are so concerned about what to do and say when they meet a handicapped person. He says that usually it’s what people don’t say that hurts. For example, when a child runs up and asks why he doesn’t have any legs, Curt wishes the parents would let him answer the question rather than hushing the child and rushing off. He explains, “The child grows up feeling he shouldn’t associate with the handicapped, and that’s not good for either the child or the handicapped person.”
Mike has some advice of his own, and he says it applies to everyone, whether they’re handicapped or not. First, he says, he doesn’t like quitters. Then he adds:
“Don’t be afraid to try things you think you might not be able to do. Whatever you want, go after it one hundred and ten percent. Whether your goals concern work, church, school, jobs, marriage, or whatever, just don’t, don’t, don’t ever quit!”

Some years ago, I was working with an elderly couple. He was 80 and she was 79. He came to me with a dilemma. He had limited assets but needed more income to provide for his retirement. He was a pretty sophisticated individual and knew a lot about the bond market, especially the junk bond market. He approached me to look for some junk bonds, and for those of you who are unfamiliar with these types of investments, they can be the most risky way to invest in bonds. Given his age and the potential for loss of his principal, I didn’t feel comfortable recommending these types of investments to him. My education taught me to ask questions, so I gathered as much as I could about his whole financial situation. I asked him more questions about his liabilities, real estate holdings, and other assets he might have. With this information, I knew a lot more about his financial position, and I was armed with the information I needed to find a better solution than the one he was suggesting.

As I reflected on his situation, the answer came, and I was able to provide the needed extra income for him plus allow him and his wife to take a trip around the world, which is something he had wanted to do but lacked the assets to do. A few years later, his wife died, but I was grateful I could apply this principle I learned while attending the temple.

I had the unique experience of serving three months of my mission in Connecticut during January, February, and March. We tracted for miles in freezing weather, made phone calls in the evening when it was too dark to be on the street, and rejoiced when we were able to teach a first discussion or present a family home evening. That didn't happen very often even though we were prayerful and worked hard. In April my mission assignment was changed to the Philippines. After being in the Philippines only a week I had taught more first discussions than I ever had in Connecticut in three months. One day one of the Assistants to the mission president asked me how I liked the Philippines. I waxed on about what a joy it was to be able to teach so many people and that it was certainly different than trying to find people in the United States. The Elder then said in a very confidential tone, "well, you know, they send the weak missionaries to the States and all the strong missionaries go foreign." Let me just say I took advantage of the opportunity to share my perspectives and experiences about the error of his judgement. Imagine measuring one's faith, devotion, courage, or intelligence by the geography of their mission call?

Eliza R. Snow, second General President of the Relief Society, offered a riveting answer. Because of Missouri’s infamous extermination order, issued at the onset of the grueling winter of 1838, she and other Saints were forced to flee the state that very winter. One evening, Eliza’s family spent the night in a small log cabin used by refugee Saints. Much of the chinking between the logs had been extracted and burned for firewood by those who preceded them, so there were holes between the logs large enough for a cat to crawl through. It was bitter cold, and their food was frozen solid.

That night some 80 people huddled inside that small cabin, only 20 feet square (6.1 meters square). Most sat or stood all night trying to keep warm. Outside, a group of men spent the night gathered around a roaring fire, with some singing hymns and others roasting frozen potatoes. Eliza recorded: “Not a complaint was heard—all were cheerful, and judging from appearances, strangers would have taken us to be pleasure excursionists rather than a band of gubernatorial exiles.”

Eliza’s report of that exhausting, bone-chilling evening was strikingly optimistic. She declared: “That was a very merry night. None but saints can be happy under every circumstance.”

Recently our son who is serving as a Bishop received a late night call requesting that he visit a man who was in deep trouble. The man had recently made some serious errors in judgment that had precipitated trouble with the law and now he was in the hospital seeking help. Though our son had known the man for sometime, he had not seen him for several months. When our son approached the hospital bed he saw a man whose countenance had changed. He had lost the light he once enjoyed. As they talked together our son asked, "When you made the choices that have caused you to be in this sad situation were you praying each day? "No," he sadly answered. "When did you last read your scriptures?" With downcast eyes he said, "I guess I haven't read them in over a year." "Have you been attending church?" "No, I have been much too busy."

My dear brothers and sisters, can we be too busy to do the things that will keep our testimony alive and well?

I love being a missionary. It has brought so much joy to my life. But I have to tell the truth. Being in the mission field is tough, and since I’ve been here, I’ve been feeling a little inadequate. One day when I was feeling down, I picked up the June 2000 New Era special issue about missionary work, and I immediately felt the spirit of the MTC come back to me. The Spirit comforted me and gave me a great desire to serve. Having the Spirit, along with hard work, makes a missionary happy. Thanks for helping me when I felt a little down.
Elder Joshua LindsayArizona Tempe Mission

Sister Tanner: It was true for me in seventh grade. I was honest, going against what a popular group of girls wanted me to do. Because of that, I didn’t have friends and I was sad, but I had confidence that what I had done was right. And I’m sure that’s what sustained me through a period of time. I knew I could face whom I really needed to face—my Heavenly Father and my family. But even that knowledge doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.

I clenched my fists, bit my lip, and kicked the ball that was rolling toward me. Then I frowned as I watched it soar out of bounds instead of going into the goal.
A girl named Nan had been standing on the sidelines watching our game. She ran to pick up the ball, tripping in her excitement. Everyone laughed. No one thanked her as she threw the ball back to us.
I felt guilty. I knew Nan wanted to play, but I didn’t want to be the one to invite her.
Nan was quiet, with messy brown hair, thick glasses, and a squeaky voice. She didn’t have one friend in our whole class. It wasn’t that I didn’t like her. I had just never talked to her.
That afternoon our teacher announced that she was going to move our desks around. She would make a new seating chart.
The room buzzed with excitement. My best friend, LeAnna, and I smiled at each other.
Just then Caroline leaned toward me. “I heard Nan tell Mrs. Martin she wants to sit by you. Gross!”
I sat in shock. “Why me?” I wondered. I had never been mean to Nan, but I had never been nice to her either.
“Tell the teacher you don’t want to sit by her,” Caroline whispered. “Otherwise no one will want to sit by you.”
I looked at Nan. Her head was lowered. She must have known what everyone in the room was thinking.
Mrs. Martin called me up to her desk. I knew Nan was a child of God and that Jesus said to love everyone. But if I became friends with Nan, everyone would think I was weird.
“Who do you want to sit by?” Mrs. Martin asked me.
“LeAnna,” I said. That was easy.
Mrs. Martin smiled. “Would you be willing to sit by Nan too?”
I looked down at the floor and whispered, “I’d rather not.”
Mrs. Martin looked surprised. “Are you sure, Angie?”
“Yes,” I muttered.
The next day our desks were rearranged. I sat by LeAnna. Nan was across the room. The two girls sitting by her pushed their desks away from hers so it looked like she was sitting alone. She looked like she was going to cry.
A few weeks later Nan changed schools. A girl in my ward went to that school, and I asked her if she had met a new girl named Nan.
“I think so. What does she look like?” she asked.
“Well, she’s really quiet. Her hair is messy, and she wears thick glasses. No one in my class liked her.”
“Really? It must not be the same girl,” she said. “The new girl I know is really fun. Everyone likes her. She’s a great soccer player.”
I thought about the day Nan had watched us playing soccer. She only needed a chance and a friend. And I could have given her both.
That day I made a promise to myself to always be nice to everyone and never let a girl like Nan slip by me without trying to be her friend.

I grew up in Norway. The nearest temple was in Stockholm, Sweden, an 8- to 10-hour drive away. Needless to say, any trip to the temple took careful planning and deliberation. Our stake planned two visits to the temple for the youth each year; several wards would rent a bus and go to the temple for a weekend. It was fun to go with other youth, but my family and I wanted to go to the temple together sometime.

So one year we decided to go to Stockholm during our summer vacation. It was a great experience, and it soon became a pattern for our summers. We would camp at a campground close to the temple. Each morning we would get up early for a baptismal session with other families from Norway who had come to the temple. Afterward we would play football and go swimming at the campground.

These summers are sacred memories for me now. Although we didn’t live close enough to the temple to go there each month, it was always a special occasion when we could go. And even though the car ride was long and tedious, the Lord blessed us for our sacrifice. The spiritual experiences I had at the temple helped me develop my love for the temple and its ordinances. They also brought us closer together as a family.

I remember vividly my first view of an iceberg. In 1937 Sister Kimball and I made our first crossing of the Atlantic by steamer from Montreal, out through the St. Lawrence River and into the North Atlantic.
One day when we were well out into the ocean, there was excitement on the ship. An iceberg had been sighted. Most of the passengers rushed to the deck to see this sight. We could see it in the distance—a great white object against the dark sea and the azure of the sky.
There it floated quietly in the water like a sharp peak of a high mountain range, a thing of beauty to behold. All my life I had heard about them, and now, for the first time, it was there before my eyes—a sharp mountain peak of ice.
This recalled to our minds the tragic sinking of the Titanic, steamship of the White Star Line, on its maiden trip across the ocean. The huge iceberg collided with this large, new ship late in the evening, April 14, 1912. Fifteen hundred and three persons, many of them eminent in Britain and in the United States, were drowned as the ship sank and only 703 were saved.
Then four years ago, flying from England to the United States, we passed over Greenland and saw them again. Much of our trip we had traveled above the blanket of clouds, but as we flew over Greenland, the sky was clear and free of clouds. The sun shone brightly. Seldom does the human eye ever see such beauty and grandeur. Stretching out in the distance was the mile-thick blanket of ice over the great, domed island. We saw the thick glaciers creeping slowly down the valleys to the sea, where they break off and become icebergs. The fjords were full of floating mountains of ice drifting on their way to the ocean. Here was the birthplace of countless such icebergs as we had seen 33 years earlier.

Many in this vast audience of priesthood bearers are holders of the Aaronic Priesthood—even deacons, teachers, and priests. Young men, some lessons in life are learned from your parents, while others you learn in school or in church. There are, however, certain moments when you know our Heavenly Father is doing the teaching and you are His student. The thoughts we think, the feelings we feel—even the deeds we do in boyhood—can affect our lives forever.

When I was a deacon, I loved baseball. In fact, I still do. I had a fielder’s glove inscribed with the name Mel Ott. He was the premier player of my day. My friends and I would play ball in a small alleyway behind the houses where we lived. Our playing field was cramped, but all right, provided you hit straightaway to center field. However, if you hit the ball to the right of center, disaster was at the door. Here lived Mrs. Shinas, who, from her kitchen window, would watch us play; and as soon as the ball rolled to her porch, her large dog would retrieve the ball and present it to her as she opened the door. Into her house Mrs. Shinas would return and add the ball to the many she had previously confiscated. She was our nemesis, the destroyer of our fun—even the bane of our existence. None of us had a good word for Mrs. Shinas, but we had plenty of bad words for her. None of us would speak to her, and she never spoke to us. She was hampered by a stiff leg which impaired her walking and must have caused her great pain. She and her husband had no children, lived secluded lives, and rarely came out of their house.
This private war continued for some time—perhaps two years—and then an inspired thaw melted the ice of winter and brought a springtime of good feelings to the stalemate.
One evening as I performed my daily task of watering our front lawn, holding the nozzle of the hose in the hand as was the style at that time, I noticed that Mrs. Shinas’s lawn was dry and beginning to turn brown. I honestly don’t know, brethren, what came over me, but I took a few more minutes and, with our hose, watered her lawn. I continued to do this throughout the summer, and then when autumn came I hosed her lawn free of leaves as I did ours and stacked the leaves in piles at the street’s edge to be gathered. During the entire summer I had not seen Mrs. Shinas. We boys had long since given up playing ball in the alleyway. We had run out of baseballs and had no money to buy more.
Early one evening, Mrs. Shinas’s front door opened, and she beckoned for me to jump the small fence and come to her front porch. This I did. As I approached her, she invited me into her living room, where I was asked to sit in a comfortable chair. She treated me to cookies and milk. Then she went to the kitchen and returned with a large box filled with baseballs and softballs, representing several seasons of her confiscation efforts. The filled box was presented to me. The treasure, however, was not to be found in the gift but rather in her words. I saw for the first time a smile come across the face of Mrs. Shinas, and she said, “Tommy, I want you to have these baseballs, and I want to thank you for being kind to me.” I expressed my own gratitude to her and walked from her home a better boy than when I entered. No longer were we enemies. Now we were friends. The Golden Rule had again succeeded.

Meanwhile, the Ungas moved to New Zealand from Tonga with plans to attend university. In church one Sunday, they overheard a conversation about BYU-Pathway and were intrigued by the low tuition fees and the ability to work while studying.
“My husband has a passion for carpentry and automotive work, and I had studied travel and tourism here in New Zealand but decided not to pursue it,” Ralueri said. “We saw BYU-Pathway as an opportunity to explore business studies.”
Mosese added that when he first came to New Zealand, many companies wouldn’t hire him for better jobs due to his lack of necessary credentials.
“I found a job in the scaffolding business because no one else would hire me,” he said. “I wanted to study, but education was too expensive due to my visa status.”
“Since my wife was already enrolled in BYU-Pathway, I decided to join as well,” he said.
The Ungas started their first semester together in 2020 and quickly progressed through their programs. Mosese completed his BYU-Pathway certificates in July 2021 and continued online courses with Brigham Young University-Idaho.
“I’m pursuing a bachelor’s degree in professional studies, which involves three certificates: auto service technology, computer support, and computer-aided design and drafting,” he said.
Meanwhile, Ralueri said BYU-Pathway helped her chart a course that could lead to the couple working together. “While my initial career path was in travel and tourism, BYU-Pathway allowed me to pivot toward a different future—one where we might eventually run our own business.”
“I have my associate of applied science degree in applied business management, and I’m currently in my last few semesters towards completing a bachelor of applied business management with Brigham Young University-Idaho in December,” she said.
Both currently hold full-time jobs—Ralueri with a bank and Mosese working for a home improvement retailer. Along with their current classes through BYU-Idaho, they also serve as service missionaries facilitating a BYU-Pathway class and attend once-a-week in-person gatherings teaching religion classes and helping other BYU-Pathway students with their educational journey.
“We often get asked how we manage it all, and our answer is simple: prayer and faith guide us through every step,” Mosese said. “It’s been quite a journey, and we’ve learned to manage our time more effectively.”
“You pray for help and somehow the Lord makes that time work out. Even though you only have 24 hours, time just seems to expand,” he said. “I don’t know how it happens, but He helps everything just fit in.”