Gospel Story Finder

One family that has felt the effects of following this counsel is that of Bishop Richard Auger of the Banbury Ward; his wife, Gill; and their two daughters, Hannah and Charlotte, both recently married in the London England Temple. Bishop Auger, an inspector with Thames Valley Police, is very aware of the world’s poor standards and their effects on youth and their behavior. “Gill and I used For the Strength of Youth to learn about parenting so we could be consistent and based on the scriptures,” he says. “Throughout the girls’ teenage years, we used it as a ready guide and in many different ways. When the girls wanted to shop for their own clothes, it was a worry to us, so we sent them out with the For the Strength of Youth pamphlet so they could refer to it when making choices.”
Hannah, 21, says, “We kept the booklet in our purses as it states clearly what is and what isn’t appropriate.” The sisters learnt they could make some clothing more modest with a little sewing or by adding accessories. Charlotte, 19, adds, “Hannah and I never felt that our parents made decisions for us. We knew that our parents followed the prophet and the Savior, and so by following our parents, we would always be living the teachings of the Savior too.”

Sometimes cities and nations bear special labels of identity. Such was a cold and very old city in eastern Canada. The missionaries called it “Stony Kingston.” There had been but one convert to the Church in six years, even though missionaries had been continuously assigned there during the entire interval. No one baptized in Kingston. Just ask any missionary who labored there. Time in Kingston was marked on the calendar like days in prison. A missionary transfer to another place—any place—would be uppermost in thoughts, even in dreams.
While I was praying about and pondering this sad dilemma, for my responsibility then as a mission president required that I pray and ponder about such things, my wife called to my attention an excerpt from the book, A Child’s Story of the Prophet Brigham Young, by Deta Petersen Neeley (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1959, p. 36). She read aloud that Brigham Young entered Kingston, Ontario, on a cold and snow-filled day. He labored there about thirty days and baptized forty-five souls. Here was the answer. If the missionary Brigham Young could accomplish this harvest, so could the missionaries of today.
Without providing an explanation, I withdrew the missionaries from Kingston, that the cycle of defeat might be broken. Then the carefully circulated word: “Soon a new city will be opened for missionary work, even the city where Brigham Young proselyted and baptized forty-five persons in thirty days.” The missionaries speculated as to the location. Their weekly letters pleaded for the assignment to this Shangri-la. More time passed. Then four carefully selected missionaries—two of them new, two of them experienced—were chosen for this high adventure. The members of the small branch pledged their support. The missionaries pledged their lives. The Lord honored both.
In the space of three months, Kingston became the most productive city of the Canadian Mission. The grey limestone buildings still stood, the city had not altered its appearance, the population remained constant. The change was one of attitude. The label of doubt yielded to the label of faith.

Writing and directing the New Westminster Ward roadshow was his last big venture. The Vancouver British Columbia Stake produced the combined roadshows from all the wards. When the judges came back with their verdict, Stephen’s roadshow had won “Best All-Round Entertainment.”
As the applause died down, the stake MC approached the microphone. “Stephen Farrance, writer and assistant director of the winning roadshow, died this morning. We’ve kept this sad news until now we didn’t want to influence the judges. We’d like to congratulate the cast and crew for going on tonight, with special mention to Stephen’s family, who did such a fine job. We dedicate the roadshows to Stephen.”
“How could his family be here tonight?” someone asked, and the reply was, “After living with Stephen, what else could they do?”

The gospel is an important part of his life. The family travels by car about twenty minutes to attend the Rotterdam Second Ward. His mother, Ineke, is a teacher in Relief Society, and his father, Bert, is the elders quorum president. When Jonathan’s CTR teacher assigns him to give a talk, he eagerly accepts. He enjoys telling the children one of his favorite scripture stories. A while ago, he told the story about Joseph’s brothers selling him to a passing caravan and then about Joseph’s life in Egypt.
Every morning the family reads the Book of Mormon, sings, and has family prayer. In the evening they read Bible stories or Church publications, sing, and have family prayer. Once Jonathan has heard a scripture story, he has the unusual ability of picturing it in his mind like a movie, so he never forgets it. He likes the story of Ammon because it teaches him that “if I trust in the Lord, then I’ll be OK and successful.”
What does Jonathan like to do at family home evening? He especially enjoys watching a Church video or having a lesson on the early pioneers and the sacrifices they made. The best outdoor activity is riding bicycles to the country. He enjoys the fresh air and stopping for french fries.
With a hearty appetite, he eagerly eats his mother’s cooking and looks forward every week to Monday’s menu of curry macaroni. A pannekoeken (crepelike pancake), fondue (small pieces of meat cooked in hot oil), a cheeseburger, and an uitsmyter (a slice of bread topped with a fried egg, ham, roast beef, cheese, tomato, and pickle) are always good, too.
Tidying the living room, organizing books, washing dishes, and hoovering (vacuuming) are a few of his chores. He would like to have a garden someday and grow herbs, tomatoes, carrots, and potatoes so that his mother won’t need to buy them at the store.
School is just a two-minute walk away. A very good student, Jonathan likes class better than recess! He enjoys all his subjects except writing, and he is now beginning to like it, too. His favorite books are a series, called Pietje Bell (Little Peter Bell) about a mischievous boy.
From a very young age, Jonathan has had a testimony of the gospel. At the age of three, he, with his father’s help, bore his testimony in sacrament meeting. Then they sang “Zielslief heeft ‘t hart van de Herder” (“Dear to the Heart of the Shepherd”). Everyone in the congregation was so touched that they cried.
It is important to Jonathan to live Jesus Christ’s teachings. When his father told him that there were many children who did not have toys like he did, he immediately put many of his toys into a box to give them away. They took the toys to a group of refugees, and Jonathan handed them out to the children. Tears filled his eyes as he saw how happy they were to get the toys. Later he told his father, “Now I know what Jesus means when He said to give. I have a warm feeling inside.”
When asked if he wants to serve a mission someday, Jonathan gives a very enthusiastic yes! He is preparing for it now by saving his money and studying the Bible and the Book of Mormon. He also knows that it is important not to do shopping on Sunday. If anyone ever asks him if he wants to go to his favorite hamburger place on Sunday, he tells them, “No thank you.” He knows that obeying the Word of Wisdom is important, too.
What would he tell people about the Church? “I would tell them that they would do well to come to church. Then I’d ask them, what do you prefer, a good time on earth or a wonderful time forever?” He would also share his testimony of the gospel: “I know that Jesus is our Redeemer and that He died for us and took our sins away. Jesus made it possible for us to live with Heavenly Father forever. I am grateful that Jesus Christ ‘built’ the Church. I know it is good to be in a family that has the richness of the gospel, which is better than a home with lots of money. I am grateful for my parents and little brother.”

Over the next few months, I did a deep dive into researching the Church of Jesus Christ, the positives and negatives. In doing so, in meeting the missionaries and following through on the commitments I made, in praying, in reading the Book of Mormon alongside the Bible, every single question I had was answered fully. The biggest questions such as the nature of God (I was never fully satisfied with descriptions of a triune God) were answered. The smallest questions I had were answered just the same. It was a miracle.

True conversion changes lives. One young woman wrote how unhappy her home life had been when she was a little girl. She wrote, “I felt it keenly when my mother and younger brothers and sisters suffered from the savage temper of a drunken father.” When she was 14, someone told her that one of God’s commandments was to honor her parents. In pondering how she could do this, she was impressed to study, to become a good student, and to be the best daughter in town.

Nothing much changed in the home, but she still felt to continue with her objectives and at age 18 left home to undertake some special studies. Three weeks later she went home to visit, and she recalled:

“My mother met me crying. I thought something terrible had happened, but she hugged me and said, ‘Since you went away to study, your father hasn’t had anything to drink.’

“… My mother said that the night I left, some Mormon missionaries had come. …

“My father became like a little child. I could see repentance and humility in his eyes. He had changed completely. He had given up smoking and drinking all at once, and tried to keep the commandments the missionaries taught him. He treated me like a queen, and he treated my mother and my brothers and sisters like royalty.

“… Our whole family was baptized. … My father, at age 40, became the best father in the world.”

Despite all these blessings, I still faced challenges.
Working as a live-in nanny didn’t go as smoothly as I was expecting. My host family didn’t keep up their end of our contract, and I ended up deciding to search for a new job and place to live.
There were many nights when I didn’t know where I would go. The search seemed endless, and tension with my host family made me question everything.
I knew that the first step was to pray to Heavenly Father about my situation. As Elder Clement M. Matswagothata, Area Seventy, taught: “Be prayerful as you look for ways to become self-reliant. I assure you that Heavenly Father will bring thoughts into your mind and will bless you.”
Every night, I turned to Heavenly Father in prayer, asking not only for a way out but for strength to act on promptings. I knew that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:26).
When I shared my situation with friends in the ward, a sister offered me a part-time job, helping me save extra money to support myself. I was so grateful that I’d connected with my ward and could rely on them during this difficult time.
Eventually, I found a new host family in Utah. After much prayer, I felt strongly that this was where I needed to be. I moved again, finding a YSA ward where I could continue to serve and grow.

I was the youngest of seven children, and every morning at 6 a.m. my father would bang on the door and say, “It’s time for prayer.” He would go into the kitchen and start cooking the oatmeal, and we would gather and get on our knees. Something we would often hear our parents say in our family prayers was, “Please bless the missionaries that they will be led to the honest in heart and that our children will have the desire to go on a mission.” When we were young and one of us was called on to say a prayer, we would almost always say the same thing, and it affected us.
In this way, our parents impressed upon our minds the importance of a mission from the time we were young. Perhaps this was because they had both served missions. My father served in the Mexican Mission, and my mother served in Missouri at the height of the Depression.
My mother’s mission taught her a great lesson on faith. Her bishop and stake president told her that it would be difficult for her to serve a mission because she had a speech impediment, which made it hard for her to be understood. But she felt impressed to go and had the overwhelming feeling that if she would be faithful, the Lord would correct her problem and she would be able to serve.
At age 14 she had received a blessing regarding a mission. Some time later she went to the secluded upper rooms of the meetinghouse and poured her soul out to her Heavenly Father regarding her desire to serve a mission. She felt inspired to call her uncle, who was a mission president in Missouri, and ask him if she could be his secretary. (Back then they didn’t have all the formalities concerning mission calls that we do now.) He said yes, and she was set apart by a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, who promised her she would bring many people into the Church. She was surprised at this, knowing that she had difficulty speaking.
However, after she began to serve, one of the sister missionaries became very ill. The mission president asked my mother to work with this sister’s companion so that the sister could come to the mission home to recover and her companion could keep working. My mother took a train to the area where she would be working. When she stepped off the train, she was met by a couple of elders, one of whom remarked when he saw her, “Why have they sent Sister Bennion? She can’t even talk.” She turned to that missionary and said indignantly, “Yes, I can talk.” And in that moment her problem was gone, and it never returned.
I was raised in a home where the parents prayed that their children would go on missions because they knew what a mission does. Without reservation, I can say that, apart from my marriage to my wonderful wife, nothing has done more for me than my mission—for education, learning to get along with all sorts of people, learning a foreign language. But much more than that, through my mission I came to know my Heavenly Father and my Savior. I know the Savior lives. I know that. I am so grateful for parents who taught me the value of a mission.
I would like you to realize that whatever you do as a young person will set a precedent for the rest of your life.
Before Helaman’s sons Nephi and Lehi went out on their missions, their father gave them this counsel:
“Behold, my sons, I desire that ye should remember to keep the commandments of God; and would that ye should declare unto the people these words. Behold, I have given unto you the names of our first parents who came out of the land of Jerusalem; and this I have done that when you remember your names ye may remember them; and when you remember their names ye may remember their works; and when you remember their works ye may know how that it is said, and also written, that they were good.
“Therefore, my sons, I would that ye should do that which is good, that it may be said of you, and also written, even as it has been said and written of them” (Helaman 5:6–7).
When Helaman spoke these words, 500 years had passed away and they were still remembering Lehi and Nephi of old and what examples they were as the first prophets in the Book of Mormon; they were still naming their children after them because of their good example and their good works.
Try to visualize your own future. You too can begin a legacy by the way you act. Someday you will have children just as Helaman did. In generations to come they can look back and say that you were good.
My father’s name was John. I have a hard time counting how many of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren are named after him because he was such a good man. He was honorable and well-loved, so his posterity named their children after this good man whose name they will remember by hopefully continuing that legacy.
I admonish you to make your name one that your family can be proud of and that will be remembered because of your good works for a long time. You should always keep your name clean and pure so that your grandchildren and great-grandchildren will remember you as an honorable person. They should be able to say that this wasn’t a person who took drugs or was involved in illicit sex or other sins, but one who remained faithful and worthy.
Believe me, your name will be remembered. For example, your missionary companions will speak of you whether you were a good missionary or not. It’s been many years since I served my mission, and I can still tell you the missionaries who gave everything, those who goofed off and broke mission rules, and those who did not give it their best. Many have expressed their regrets for not being the kind of missionary they could have been. Of course, nobody is perfect. However, as President Hinckley has asked, we should do the very best we can. Your name carries through from the time you are a young person up through your mission, through adulthood and beyond.
I worked as a real estate developer, and it’s not easy to get farmers to sell you their land. But I can tell you of many instances when I went out to find land to purchase and people asked me, “Are you John Arnold’s son?”
I would say, “Yes, I am.”
And they would say, “He was an honest man. I’m sure you’ll be honest with us.” I bought several properties because of my father’s good name.
My father never made much money, but my parents were honest and hard working, and they taught these values to their children. My father worked at a copper mine. He didn’t earn enough money to send his sons and daughters on missions or to college, so my parents bought 1,000 chickens for us to raise so that we could sell the eggs. They also contracted to deliver a large number of newspapers each evening to our neighbors.
My father would have us go out to the chicken coops and shoot the rats out of the feed troughs because they would eat the chickens’ food. On many occasions I would go out with a flashlight and a small gun to shoot the rats that were in the hoppers eating the chickens’ food.
I’ll never forget one night when I was out on that particular assignment. My father came home from a Church meeting and looked down at me and said, “Son, what flashlight do you have?” I looked down and realized it was the one my father took to work, and it had the name of the copper mine on the side. My father said, “Son, that flashlight is for me to use on the job. You should never take anything from your employer for personal use—not even a pencil, a flashlight, or anything else. Go back and get another flashlight.” I am so grateful for my father’s legacy of honesty.
Most of the money from the eggs and delivering newspapers went into the bank to help pay for our education and our missions. Five of the children used the money to serve missions and all seven graduated from college. The lessons of value that my parents taught me on honesty, hard work, the Word of Wisdom, the law of chastity, and many other things continue to bless my life.
What legacy will you and I leave behind to be passed on to those who will remain after we have passed away—especially our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren? I would hope it would be like that of Lehi and Nephi of old—a legacy of love, trust, and honor. We can and should set those who follow us for hundreds of years to come on a course that will lead them to happiness, joy, and eternal life.

I always look forward to the priesthood blessings my dad gives us before the school year because they give me strength and peace for the year ahead. I remember being scared when I was going into middle school for the first time because we had just moved. In my blessing I was promised that if I chose the right and was kind to everyone around me, the Lord would watch over me and bless me.
That year I tried to reach out to others and choose the right. I began reading the Book of Mormon, and throughout the year I was filled with peace. I knew the Lord was keeping His promise because I was doing what I was supposed to be doing. At the end of the school year I knew it had been a hard year, but I had tried my best, and the Lord had kept his promise.
I am so thankful I have a dad who can give me priesthood blessings. Those blessings have strengthened my testimony because I have been able to feel and see them working in my life. Knowing that the Lord is able to work through my dad to speak and help me has strengthened my relationship with my Heavenly Father and my earthly father.

One of the great men I know is Brother Dale Duffy from Boise, Idaho. Every young man who has ever come in contact with Dale will never forget his influence. It was Dale’s idea, as a Scoutmaster, to purchase boating equipment and float the Middle Fork of the Salmon River.

The troop started river running about the time my three oldest sons were in Scout and Explorer troops in the Boise 15th Ward. I remember well how Dale involved the young troop leaders in planning. Few men know better the meaning of the phrase “preparation precedes power.” We started a year ahead. Every boy who wanted to go had to earn the swimming and lifesaving merit badges and be able to swim two-thirds of a mile.

The biggest challenge they had to meet was the “Duffy Battle.” This was hand-to-hand combat with Dale Duffy in water over their heads. He made it a real challenge to see what kind of substance the boys were made of under pressure. During this battle, I’m sure each boy found just how hard he could fight for his life if he had to.

There were also hours of classroom training prior to the first float trip, followed by the practical application of this training as the boys floated down the Boise River in preparation for the Middle Fork experience. Following are some of the things my boys remember and will never forget from this special training:
• You are never on the river without a life jacket.
• Every boy must have a razor-sharp knife in a scabbard on his hip, for use in case he falls in and gets tangled in the rope.
• When you fall in, you face downstream, your feet in front of you to parry off the rocks that are down river.
• When you fall in, always stay with the boat if possible.
• When you swim to shore, swim to the closest shore, diagonally downstream. This conserves strength, and once you are ashore you can be picked up by another boat.
• If someone in your boat falls in, the closest crewmen should immediately grab him and pull him back into the boat as quickly and with as much strength as possible.
• Never pass the lead boat.
• The rubber raft assigned to bring up the rear never passes other boats.
• Never panic, no matter what the condition. Think back on your training and you will recall a specific teaching point or principle that will pull you through.
• Whenever anyone is floating loose after being capsized, pick him up in your boat immediately.
Of course, this is only a small particle of the training the boys received from Dale Duffy. They listened because they respected him and knew that anything they did not understand might put their lives in jeopardy.

On every trip the boys would go to a point just below Dagger Falls and jump into the cold, chill water and float down about 50 yards. This was to take away the initial shock of falling into the water should they capsize. We assigned a crew to each raft, with one of the boys assigned as crew leader. This boy was given total authority while on the river. Usually we would have about six rafts, with three to five boys and their gear on each raft.

I well remember one trip when Scott, my fourth oldest son, was on the same raft with me and three other fellows. On the first or second day of our trip we capsized (which was very common), and the raft got caught in a backwash and was being pounded by tons of water. I came to the surface and watched for my crew members. I counted them. One boy came up, then another, and then a third—but no Scott. I started to feel real concern when I looked back and forth across the river and couldn’t see him anywhere. Fifteen or 20 seconds is an eternity when you are waiting for your son to come to the surface. It’s the most helpless feeling in the world. Finally I saw Scott come to the surface and heaved a great sigh of relief.
“What took you so long?” I yelled to him.
“My foot got caught in the rope, and I was being pounded around because the boat was caught in the backwash.” Then he said, “But I remembered Duffy’s instruction, reached on my hip, pulled my knife out of the scabbard, cut the rope tangled around my foot, and floated free.” I owe my son’s life to Dale Duffy’s training.
About three weeks after our trip another group of river runners went down. Their boat wrapped around a huge rock. All of the crew except one climbed onto the rock. The other crew member got caught in a 50-foot rope and couldn’t get loose. By the time those on the rock had pulled him upstream against the current and lifted him out of the water, he had drowned. This young man was 21 years old. Scott was 13. The whole difference was in training.
On a different trip, Joe, my third son, got caught in a huge backwash behind a giant boulder. Usually the body is heavy enough that you sink down below the waves and wash, and the current pulls you under the backwash and away from danger. However, in Joe’s case the water washed him into the backwash, which threw him like a top back into the hole. This happened over and over, and we feared for his life, but Joe did not panic. He remembered that Dale had told him he would wash through, and so Joe let himself drop down into the water and eventually washed through.
There is an element of physical danger when you go down any river. There is an element of danger rappelling down cliffs or water skiing. Yet I would ten times rather have my boys face physical danger on the Middle Fork of the Salmon River than I would have them drag the streets of the city where vile and filthy temptations lurk at every corner and where their spiritual lives are in danger.
Let me tell you some of the great, exciting things that happen on the river. There are bridges that span the Middle Fork. We like to stop and climb up on the railings of the bridges and dive or jump into the beautiful, sparkling-clear river 25 or 30 feet below. The water is clean enough to drink. It is absolutely beautiful. There are cascading waterfalls that we shower beneath. There are high cliffs, such as those at “Pool” or “Hospital Bar” campsites, that we dive from. The water must be 40 or 50 feet deep. The cliffs are anywhere from 15 to 40 feet high.

What a great experience for boys to feel that exhilarating challenge and accomplishment as they work up enough nerve to dive from these high cliffs. Then there are several hot springs that other travelers have turned into pools and tubs where one can lie and soak his aching muscles and relax. Fishing is great. We usually have several griddles of fish during the trip. I really never cared much for trout until I ate some of that solid pink and white meat cooked out in the open. Now, just thinking about it, I crave some.
As a rule the weather is excellent, with not more than one day of rain during a week’s trip; it is usually hot under a sunny, clear sky.
Among the exciting activities on the river is the water fighting that is carried on between crews of separate boats; they splash each other with bailing buckets, oars, and paddles.
In some places the water is absolutely calm, and one can just lean back, drop into the river, and float downstream in the cool, beautiful water. Occasionally we can even float through rapids in a life jacket or on an air mattress.
We watch for sandbars for overnight camping. These usually lead right out into deep pools, and we swim before and after dinner, and often again just before bedding down. There is a huge bonfire to stand around and warm up by in between dips. One of the most thrilling experiences is to awaken in the middle of the night and look up at the majesty of the heavens. The stars are breathtaking, and there is no smoke, fog, or cloud to obscure the view. Sometimes when there is a full moon, we float the river at night. Such a sight is seldom seen anywhere else in the world. The Milky Way appears almost as a cloud, stretching from one end of the sky to the other. All the constellations stand out, giving evidence that God is truly in his heaven, and these are his creations. He rules over the heavens and the earth. On some of these occasions I feel so near to God, I seem to feel his Spirit and know that he is willing to answer our prayers.
We read in the Book of Moses that Moses saw the beginning from the end and all the creations. And he said, “Now for this cause I know that man is nothing, which thing I never had supposed.” (Moses 1:10.) Under a star-filled sky on the river, I feel just the reverse. I feel the total importance of man in God’s plan.
Every bend in the river, every new tributary, every change of scenery brings a new and exciting challenge. Because of the varying water levels, the river changes every trip. It is never the same. There are always challenges to keep a young man excited and involved in maturing to his full manhood. We see all kinds of wildlife that can rarely be seen any other way—mountain goats, mountain sheep, moose, elk, eagles, hawks, and all kinds of wild bird life such as chuckers, field grouse, and so forth—all adding to the experience of floating the river.
If we spend more than one day on a sandbar, we organize track and field activities, high jumping, broad jumping, racing, shot putting, and underwater swimming—anything that the mind of a young man can conceive. Often we engage in a game of flag football. Frisbies are usually aboard, and sometimes chess boards are brought along to help a river runner relax with a good mate after a hard day of rowing. Underwater swimming with snorkels and fins can be exciting.
From the river we see Indian caves and Indian writings on high walls. At Veil Falls a beautiful, sheer waterfall drops some 300 feet, making a gentle shower of rain at the bottom. Underneath in the huge cavern are many authentic Indian writings. We’ve never visited Veil Falls without seeing mountain goats on the high ledges in the cavern.
Another exciting experience is to see the salmon going upstream to spawn. We always see several, and it affirms our testimony that Christ truly is the Creator. These salmon fight their way over tremendous waterfalls, obstacles, and powerful currents, returning to the spot where they were born that they might spawn and start the life cycle again.
We constantly see deer on these trips. They are gentle and fairly tame, with a sense of curiosity that brings them close to camp. Our young men are impressed with the gentleness of the deer in the high, primitive areas.
White water river running is exciting, but there is an element of danger there. One must be well prepared, in top physical condition, and must love a good challenge. He should love the out-of-doors and feel the exhilaration that comes from the cold night air and an invigorating swim, as well as the heat from the warm fire.
I have never known a young man who floated down the river who didn’t raise his spiritual level many degrees. There’s something highly inspiring about seeing the majesty of God’s creation in the primitive areas of Idaho. Almost every young man seems to be attracted to finding a secluded spot where he may kneel and communicate with the Lord. I’ve seen this happen again and again. My own experiences are the same. Early in the morning and late at night I find a peaceful place where I can kneel along the river and look up at the majesty of the heavens and the multitudinous creations of the Savior. I feel very close to him in that sacred setting, and it is during these hours that I pledge to the Lord every ounce of energy that I have—pledge to follow him at all costs—and have a desire to keep kindled in my bosom the powerful and holy feelings that come as I kneel before him.

As I came into the kitchen, my big brother Matt was saying to Mom, “I think just you, Dad, me, and Abby should be in on it. I don’t think he can keep a secret.” He was talking about me! “I can too keep a secret!” I said.
Mom smiled. “On Monday nights, the Family Night Phantom secretly leaves treats on people’s doorsteps. How would you like us to become the Phantom?”
“What a great idea!” I wanted to go right then, but Mom said that we had to wait until Monday.
Tonight we decided to deliver cookies and notes from the “Phantom” to two new families in our ward, the Kennedys and the Jensens. With Mom at the wheel to make a quick getaway, Dad and Abby did the ringing and running at the Kennedys’. Then it was my turn. Matt and I walked quietly up to the Jensens’ porch, laid the cookies down, rang the doorbell, and ran. The Phantom was a success!
For this week’s adventure, Mom said, “Why don’t you each choose a family?” I wanted to phantom my best friend, Kyle Stephens.
During the family home evening lesson, Abby talked about how Jesus helps lonely people. That made me think.
“Mom, do you think Sister Hart would like chocolate cupcakes?” She was an older lady in the ward who lived alone.
“I’m sure that she would, Jeremy. Why?”
“I changed my mind. Let’s leave the treat at her house instead.”
We had a great time phantoming. Sister Hart almost caught me! I was at the edge of her driveway when I heard the door open, so I dove behind the hedge. I heard her say, “How nice! What a wonderful treat.”
Later that week, Matt said that his friends thought that the Phantom was the Bennetts.
“Well,” Dad said, “I think that puts the Bennetts on the top of our list to phantom next week!”
I came home from school on Monday to the wonderful smell of homemade bread, our Phantom treat for the week. “Who should we phantom tonight, besides the Bennetts?” Mom asked me.
I had been thinking about it all day. “The Barneses are moving and are probably busy packing. And Sister Bradley has been sick, so her family could use a treat.”
Mom gave me a kiss and said, “You’re really something. Tonight it’ll be bread for the three Bs!”
A few days later, Dad came home from a meeting at church. He had seen a note on the ward bulletin board marked FAMILY NIGHT PHANTOM. It read: “Thanks for the bread. We didn’t have a family home evening dessert planned, so it came in handy. Keep up the good work. From the Barneses.” Mom said that we had to secretly remove the note and put it in our family scrapbook.
During dinner on Sunday, Mom told us that after church Sister Simpson and Sister Bennett had discussed the Phantom. They wanted to get “revenge,” but on whom?
On Monday, I had news of my own. “Tyler Bennett asked me who I thought the Phantom was. It was hard not to smile! Then he said his family is going out tonight armed with 10 loaves of banana bread.”
“We can’t match that, but I do think it’s time to phantom ourselves,” Mom said.
“Great idea,” Matt agreed. “If the Phantom visits us, no one will suspect us!”
That night I delivered popcorn balls to my own door. We were sitting in the kitchen munching away when the doorbell rang. Matt opened the door to find a plate of cookies on the porch and not a person in sight! “Are you sure Tyler said that his family was delivering banana bread?” Mom asked.
We decided to hurry and finish phantoming before we ran into other Phantoms. We chose Bishop Stephens’s family (including Kyle!) and the Garcias.
Back at home, we began our family home evening lesson. Mom asked us to name activities that draw a family closer. Dad said, “Family prayer.” Abby thought of scripture reading. Matt mentioned camping together during the summer. “Don’t forget the Family Night Phantom,” I said. “That has brought us closer.”
“I think you’re right, Jeremy,” Dad agreed.
“So serving together brings a family closer,” Mom concluded.
Our night wasn’t over. When we were almost settled into bed, the doorbell rang—for the third time! We all ran for the door. On the porch was a loaf of banana bread. What a night!
No one has accused us of being the Phantom, so I think our secret is still safe. Tonight we have brownies, ready for delivery to three more unsuspecting ward families. The Family Night Phantom rides again!
“Loving service anonymously given may be unknown to man—but the gift and the giver are known to God.”President Thomas S. Monson, First Counselor in the First Presidency, “‘Anonymous,’” Ensign, May 1983, 57.

It’s something like the experience of a young girl who was walking with her grandmother. The song of the birds was glorious to the little girl, and she pointed out every sound to her grandmother.

“Do you hear that?” the little girl asked again and again. But her grandmother was hard of hearing and could not make out the sounds.

Finally, the grandmother knelt down and said, “I’m sorry, dear. Grandma doesn’t hear so well.”

Exasperated, the little girl took her grandmother’s face in her hands, looked intently into her eyes, and said, “Grandma, listen harder!”

There are lessons in this story for both the nonbeliever and the believer. Just because we can’t hear something doesn’t mean there is nothing to hear. Two people can listen to the same message or read the same scripture, and one might feel the witness of the Spirit while the other doesn’t.

On the other hand, in our efforts to help our loved ones experience the voice of the Spirit and the vast, eternal, and profound beauty of the gospel of Jesus Christ, telling them to “listen harder” may not be the most helpful way.

Perhaps better advice—for anyone who wants to increase faith—is to listen differently.

SYDNEY—“Flames were shooting 50 feet into the air. They were about 15 yards off. I could feel the heat on my face. That’s hot enough to know what firefighters would feel.”
But Michael James Davis isn’t a firefighter. The then 18-year-old member of the Sutherland Ward, Sydney North Stake, was standing in the driveway of his family’s home, ready to flee in horror as fire surged up from the valley where normally he walks his dog Jess.
The fire was one of about 130 that ravaged much of New South Wales in January, many of them set by arsonists. Nearly 1.5 million acres were burned.
Michael and his father had been trying to pump water from their swimming pool to hose down their house, but the fire got too intense. Firefighters ordered them to evacuate.
“I haven’t prayed so much in a long time,” Mike said. “I felt calm, but I still thought the house was going to burn. Just as long as everyone was safe, that was the main thing.”
Out in the street, he saw “everyone crying and trying to get their children out. All the people in the street, everyone just fled. It hurt me to witness that. That was almost as bad as the fire.”
He and his father joined the rest of their family at the home of some fellow Church members. After 45 minutes, a radio announcement said the fires had passed and residents were allowed to check on their homes.
“First we went to the chapel, to let them know we were safe and to see if anyone needed help. Then we came home to inspect the damage.” Miraculously, their home had been spared, even though the house next door had burned to the ground.
“All around their porch there were thick shrubs, and the shrubs spread the fire to their house,” Michael explained. Everything was gone but the foundation and a children’s play area out in the yard.
At his own house, Michael and his father found that two big gum trees in the backyard had burned completely. An iron fence had melted in the intense heat. And on the back porch, a mop sitting on the wooden deck had burned—the scorch marks are still there—but the deck had not ignited. That’s how close the fire had come.
That night Mike was allowed to sleep in his home. “The air smelled bad,” he remembers. “You could look down in the valley and see the embers glowing in the dark.” He lay there thinking of what he’d learned in just a few short hours:
—“Heavenly Father did hear my prayers. He helped me to be calm, to know that everything would be all right, even though he didn’t tell me exactly what would happen.”
—“There was a lot of help and friendship from the Church, but there was a lot of help from people in the general area as well. I took a walk around an area that wasn’t burning. Everyone was stopping and having a chat and saying, ‘Is your family all right? Is there anything we can do to help?’ These are people I hadn’t ever seen, people who weren’t in the Church, and they were good people trying to help each other.”
Over the next few days, he learned some additional things:
—“Fifteen members of our ward chipped in and bought a new fridge and a washing machine and brought blankets for the people in the house that burned down. They were just renting, but they didn’t have the contents insured. We helped them start getting their life back together.”
—“The worst thing is that police caught people looting burned out houses for jewelry. How people could do that to someone who is already hurt by their house being burned down is incredible to me. I’ve seen the bad side of people and the good side, too. I’ll take the good side.”
Time passed. “Soon we had the pool cleaned of the soot deposited during the fire, and fertilizer greened up our grass.” Down in the valley, green shoots poked through the ashes on the ground.
“Life comes back,” Mike says. “But the memory of this fire will be around for a long, long time.” Even more enduring, however, will be the new understanding of the things that are really important in life, and Mike’s deepened gratitude for them.

Two hundred years ago, the evenings of September 21 and 23, 1823, formed an important turning point in the unfolding Restoration. On the first evening, an angel, sent from the presence of God, visited Joseph Smith, bringing instructions that would guide him over the next several years. On the later evening, Joseph related the experiences to his family, marking the beginning of his many testimonies about his experiences. Understanding these events from the past can help us be more steadfast disciples of Jesus Christ today.
On the evening of September 21, 1823, an angel named Moroni visited 17-year-old Joseph Smith three times throughout the night. The following morning, Moroni appeared a fourth time and guided Joseph to a nearby hill. When Joseph returned home that evening, he was excited and exhausted. He started to relate his experiences, but his family noticed he was tired, so they prepared to gather the next evening when they could “all sit down, and listen to [Joseph].”1
On September 23, Joseph warned his whole family—father, mother, five brothers, and three sisters—that the time had not yet come to share the message with the world, but he could tell them “the great and glorious things which God had manifested to him.”2

I was raised on a farm in Kansas where we lived next door to my Grandma Dew, and I was her shadow. We went everywhere together—to the bank, the doctor, the Early Bird Garden Club, and to an endless procession of Church meetings. When it came to the gospel, Grandma was zealous. She would talk about the Church anytime and with anyone—including her eldest granddaughter.
I’ll never forget an interchange she and I had one night as we drove home from yet another meeting. It began when I blurted out a question that flashed through my eight-year-old mind: “Grandma, what if the gospel isn’t true and we’ve been going to all of these meetings for nothing?” Charming little eight-year-old, wasn’t I? “Sheri, you don’t need to worry about that,” she answered, “because I know that the gospel is true.”
I challenged her: “How can you know for sure?”
Several seconds passed before she said slowly, “I know for sure that the gospel is true because the Holy Ghost has told me that Jesus Christ is our Savior and that this is His Church.” She paused and then she added something I will never forget: “And, Sheri, He’ll tell you too, and when He does, your life can never be the same again.”
I still vividly remember what happened next. A sensation unlike any I had ever experienced charged through my body, and then I began to cry. Though I didn’t understand the reason for my outburst, I’m sure Grandma realized exactly what was happening—that the Spirit was bearing witness to me that what she had said was true.
Tonight I am grateful to testify that during the intervening years I have come to know for myself that Jesus is the Christ, our Savior and our Redeemer. And with that knowledge, my life has been changed forever.

Certainly this was the thinking of Florence Chukwurah of Nigeria when she was assigned to visit teach a sister who was having difficulties in her marriage and in her home, making it necessary to meet at the marketplace for a visit. After listening to and observing this sister’s challenges, Sister Chukwurah asked her husband for a priesthood blessing so that she might know how to help this troubled sister. Following the blessing she felt prompted to discuss with this sister the importance of tithing. “She tearfully told me that she did not pay her tithes because she was not making enough money,” Sister Chukwurah remembers. “I suggested that she and I discuss Malachi 3:10 and that we do so in my house so we could relax and be alone for the discussion. She consented. After our discussion I encouraged her to exercise her faith and pay her tithes for at least six months. I bore my testimony to her by the Spirit.”
Sister Chukwurah testifies that within a few months of this meeting, this sister’s circumstances changed dramatically. Her daughter received a scholarship to complete her high school education, her husband worked with the bishop to become active and accept a calling, husband and wife teamed up to improve their financial situation and their relationship, and eventually they became an inspiration to others.

When I was about 12, I wanted to know for myself that the Book of Mormon was true. In a talk, I could testify that the Book of Mormon is the word of God because my Primary teacher had said it. But inside myself, I didn’t understand what that meant.
I knew the promise of Moroni that said that if I read, pondered, and prayed, I could know also (see Moroni 10:3–4). I read for weeks and felt at peace, but it didn’t produce anything spectacular—no light, no angels, no voice. In the end, I quit reading the Book of Mormon.
One day while studying Exodus, I read that when the Israelites lacked food, God sent manna to them. Each person was to take a certain amount each day. He sent them food, but they had to figure out how to gather it.
Nephi’s words came to me: “The Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Nephi 3:7). From this I understood that God had commanded the Israelites to leave Egypt and planned to provide for their hunger. This Book of Mormon scripture enlightened my understanding of the Bible, and I concluded that the Book of Mormon was the word of God.
As Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles explained, personal revelation resembles more the gradual rising of the sun than the light that is suddenly produced when we flip a switch.1 I began to see the Book of Mormon in a different way.
During the months that followed, I knew more surely than ever that the Book of Mormon was the word of God. The impression I felt numerous times through the voice of the Spirit was “It’s true, it’s true, it’s true.”
I still read the Book of Mormon almost every day, and every time, I hear these words: “It’s true.”

I heard an attractive young lady, a recent convert to the Church, bear her testimony at a stake conference meeting. She had lived in more than a dozen foster homes in her short life and had been turned out from all of them as incapable of being helped. She said through her tears that no one had ever made her feel that she was worth anything. Then she had been given one more chance; an older couple who had provided a home for many foster children had accepted an invitation to try to help just one more.

Now, as she spoke, she radiated both joy and self-esteem. “I am valuable!” she said. “I am valuable! Jesus Christ died for me! I found out in my new family how much I am worth when I learned about Christ and how much he cared for me and was willing to suffer for me. He died for me! I am valuable!”

She is very fortunate. After a young lifetime of bad choices and trouble she is in a home where she is really valued and esteemed and where she has been taught by loving parents her relationship with the Savior. She has begun to know and appreciate him, to find meaning in life, and to develop a sense of responsibility. Her experience reminds me of a statement which hangs, framed, on my office wall: “Though Christ a thousand times in Bethlehem be born, if he is not born in thee thy soul is still forlorn.”

A modern example of this is taken from the life of Elder John B. Dickson of the Seventy. He recalls:
“When it was time for me to go on a mission, I was very excited to serve the Lord. Just before I was to leave, however, I found out that I had bone cancer. The chance of living long enough to serve a mission wasn’t very high. I had faith that the Lord would provide a way if He wanted me to go. My father gave me a blessing in which I was told that I would serve my mission in Mexico, serve in the Church all my life, and have a family. My right arm had to be amputated above the elbow, but my life was spared, and the promises I was given have all been fulfilled.
“Some would think that losing an arm would be a terrible burden, but it has been one of the greatest blessings in my life. I learned that it is very important to have challenges and to face up to them.”
Elder Dickson had always been right-handed, and now he had to learn to do everything left-handed. One struggle was learning how to tie his ties. He said: “One Sunday morning when I was in my bedroom with my tie in my hand, I thought, How am I going to tie this? I thought about getting a clip-on tie. I thought about asking Mom to help me. But I couldn’t take her with me on my mission just to tie my ties. So I decided I had to learn how to do it myself. I finally figured it out by using my teeth. I still do it that way, even after having tied it thousands of times.”

I once ordained a patriarch who was overcome with the responsibility. For months he could not get himself to give a blessing. Finally, he asked his stake president if he might write a paragraph as a model introduction to any patriarchal blessing. The stake president approved.
Later he told me this: “When the first young man came for a blessing, because I had memorized this prepared introduction, I felt comfortable. I laid my hands on his head, and I did not use one word of it. That day I learned whose blessings they are. They are not my blessings but are dictated by the Spirit.”