Gospel Story Finder

The hymn “How Firm a Foundation,” which is attributed to Robert Keen, an eighteenth-century member of a London Baptist church, was included in the first LDS hymnal, produced in 1835. This hymn served an extraordinary purpose in our early Church history. After the horrific massacre of seventeen Saints at Haun’s Mill in 1838, the bereaved women and children survivors gathered at one of the homes. Among them was Amanda Smith, whose husband and one son had been killed, and whose other son had been wounded seriously. Gathering together “in our utter desolation,” Amanda wrote later, “what could we women do but pray?” When prayer was forbidden by the militia—under the threat of death—Amanda slipped into a cornfield where “I prayed aloud and most fervently.” In her own words,

“When I emerged from the corn a voice spoke to me. It was a voice as plain as I ever heard one. It was no silent, strong impression of the spirit, but a voice,repeating a verse of the saint’s hymn” [“How Firm a Foundation”]:

That soul who on Jesus hath leaned for repose, I cannot, I will not desert to its foes; That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no never, no never forsake!

“From that moment I had no more fear. I felt that nothing could hurt me. . . .

“. . . The soul who on Jesus had leaned for succor had not been forsaken even in this terrible hour of massacre.” [Edward W. Tullidge, The Women of Mormondom (New York, 1877), pp. 129–32]

The story is told of a farmer who needed an extra hand to help on his farm. Several interviewed for the position and the farmer asked each about his qualifications for the job. The response of one young man left the farmer both confused and intrigued. He had simply said, "I can sleep when the wind blows." The young man was hired and worked diligently through the harvest.

Autumn ended and the first cold storm of winter came late one night. The farmer panicked as the winds began to blow. Calling the young man for help, the farmer grabbed his coat and boots. He was disappointed to find the young man asleep at a time like this. Grudgingly he ventured out alone to move the animals to the barn and then fix a hole in the roof. He mumbled as he thought of the farm equipment left to rust in the field.

However, when the farmer reached the barn all the animals were tucked safely inside. In fact, clean hay had already been set out for the new day. Not a single hole could be found in the roof, and the tractor was parked perfectly in the shed. "Who could have done it?" the farmer wondered. And then, he realized what the young man's answer meant. "I can sleep when the wind blows."

Every morning, all the girls gather for a flag-raising ceremony, then engage in games. This morning, there are clouds overhead and the mountain winds blow cold. The girls make a semicircle in front of the flags. As the sun gradually blossoms over the mountain peaks, everyone stands quietly for the opening prayer. The sounds of birds and crickets lightly pepper the soft whisper of the wind. This is a special morning, because Brother Christian Euvrard, a regional leader in the area, is speaking to the girls. He talks about the Young Women program as a guide for planning the future. When he finishes, he picks up a stick and breaks it as a symbol that the ceremony is over. Now it is time for games. And that’s when something unusual begins to happen.
As the girls join together in various groups, one of the groups appears isolated from the others. It is a small group of American girls whose parents work or are stationed temporarily in Italy. They don’t speak Italian, and they are not familiar with some of the everyday customs that come naturally to the Italian girls. They feel awkward. The Italian girls huddle together, then walk over to the Americans and tell them about an experience they had at a Church-sponsored event in Florence last year. “One of the members of our group did not speak Italian, so we decided to go through a whole day without speaking, using only hand signs. When the day ended, we all felt much closer to each other.” Soon both Americans and Italians are talking and singing together. It is a beginning.
The American girls’ Young Women leader, Linda Black, still lives in Verona, Italy. She wrote to us that several of the American girls became close friends with some of the Italian girls and have continued to write to them.
Annalisa Brandonisio, from Venice, wrote us, “Even though our language and customs were different, I felt united to the American group because of the strong influence of the Spirit of the Lord that was with us.”

I had the privilege of being involved with a young man and a father recently. The young man and a friend were up hiking in the lower foothills near Cody, Wyoming. The friend jumped across a high-power line that was down, but the young man got tangled in it and was electrocuted. The friend turned and ran all the way back down to where the father lived—and it was no short distance—and told him that his son had been electrocuted and was dead. The father, who was not a young man, ran all the way back up, taking about fifteen minutes. When he got where the boy was lying across the wires, he in some way removed the boy from the wires with a board or large stick. Then he picked his son up in his arms and held him, saying, “In the name of Jesus Christ and by the power and authority of the Holy Melchizedek Priesthood, I command you to live.” The dead boy in his father’s arms opened his eyes. He was taken to the University of Utah Medical Center for treatment and a blessing. I believe that it is this kind of experience that we have as we walk through this life with Him.

I have always learned in Primary and at home that we should be honest. We should not keep what does not belong to us, we should return change when we receive too much at the store, and we should always tell the truth even though we may be punished.
One day when I was nine, I was waiting on the school patio for my mother and I saw a wallet on a bench. There was money in it.
I thought about what I should do. My mother works very hard to take care of my two sisters and me, but things weren’t going very well at home. I thought about what I could buy.
Then I started to worry about the person who had lost the money and how much she would miss it. I sat down and waited because I knew she would come to look for it.
After some time, a very upset woman appeared and asked, “Have you found a wallet?”
I answered, “Is this it?”
Her joy was so great she hugged me. She thanked me again and again.
At that time, I did not even think about why I made the decision to be honest. But when I told my mother about it later, she said the Holy Ghost had whispered to me and I had listened to the still, small voice.
I am grateful for having learned to be honest.

Several hours later however, our sincere prayers were answered in a very different manner. After getting everyone down off the rappel, it started to rain. The rain made the rocks very slick which made the descent event more difficult, but the greater challenge was that the steep descent had taken its toll on my brother-in-law's knees and he was struggling with every step. He was a real trooper and never complained, but he was in a lot of pain and it really slowed our progress as we descended down off the mountain. The rain finally stopped, but the sun quickly set and we once again found ourselves hiking in the dark. We had made it through the technical parts of the mountain, but we still had several miles to hike and by this time we had been awake for over 40 hours straight. As we continued down, we came to a meadow and then a large boulder field and once in the boulder field, we lost the trail. We searched and searched, but could not find the trail to take us out of the boulder field. We worked our way back to the meadow because we knew there was a sign there that would indicate we were in the right spot but we could not find the sign. We all prayed that we would find our way out and we had great faith that we would be guided to know what to do, but as hard as we tried, we could not find the trail or the sign indicating where we were.

We began to think that we had possibly missed a turn so while the others rested, my other brother-in-law and I hiked back up the mountain to try to find a fork in the trail and to also see if we could get cell phone reception to let our families know that we were o.k. We were not successful in either endeavor. We were finally so exhausted that we turned around and went back down to the meadow where our brothers were sleeping. When we reached them, we happened to look across the creek and in the faint light of our headlamps we saw something. We walked over to it and there, not 50 ft. from where our brothers were resting, was the metal sign indicating the trail and verifying that we were going the right way. We had walked past that spot at least a dozen times and had not seen the sign. We were elated to know that we were in the right spot, but we made the conscious decision to rest for a bit to clear the fog from our sleep deprived minds. We slept for a couple of hours on the side of the trail and when we awoke, our minds were clear. We re-entered the boulder field, found the trail through it and were able to safely hike out the rest of the way. Our prayers were answered, but in a different way than we had anticipated.

When I moved from Peru to the United States to be a live-in nanny, everything felt so foreign. The language, culture, food, and weather were all so different.
It was also the first time I’d been on my own. Growing up, attending church was simply part of my family’s life. I loved it, but it was easy to rely on my family to stay spiritually strong.
It wasn’t until I moved that I began to understand what it meant to be spiritually self-reliant.
When I moved, I didn’t know anyone and couldn’t speak English. I felt lost, disconnected, and alone. It was terrifying.
When I’d shared my concerns about living in a different country with my mom, she’d advised me, “Wherever you go, look for the Church.”
So that’s exactly what I did: I located the nearest chapel and found my ward. Little did I know that this simple step would be a turning point in my journey of spiritual self-reliance.
My first Sunday in this new country was overwhelming, but being welcomed by the members of my new ward was a true miracle. One sister invited me to attend institute, and through that, I not only improved my English but also expanded my circle of friends.
Thanks to institute, I attended a nearby conference for young single adults in the Church and connected with other young adults who were striving to live the gospel.
I truly felt my spiritual self-reliance growing as I prayerfully lived my covenants, took the sacrament each Sunday, and served others.

As a child, I was influenced by a lot of people, especially by my parents and my uncles and aunts, friends, teachers, stake president, and the prophet. But if I were to pick just one person who influenced me, it would be President Spencer W. Kimball. Living in El Paso, Texas, we belonged to the Mt. Graham Stake, which was centered in Arizona. President Kimball was our stake president at that time. His wife, Camilla, was first cousin to my father, so we were related.
Whenever President Kimball came to El Paso on stake business, he stayed at our house. At that time my father was on the high council. One of the things I remember about President Kimball was how businesslike he was and how fast he worked. He typically, like my dad and many of that generation, had bread and milk for supper.
He was a marvelous man. He took a special interest in me—at least that’s the feeling I had. Later I learned that everybody felt like that. He was the first Church leader to invite me to go on a mission. He wrote to me, telling me about his mission, and that influenced me.
When I received my mission call, I traveled to Salt Lake City to enter the mission home. At that time, missionaries were set apart by General Authorities. I was set apart by Elder Spencer W. Kimball, who was then an Apostle.
He also performed the marriage and sealing of my wife and me. On several occasions when we lived in Salt Lake City and there was illness in our family, he responded to a call for a special blessing. And when we lived in the state of Washington, he took time out to visit with us there.
I remember visiting with him after he had been called as President of the Church. What a humble man he was. Here he had been called to be the prophet, yet he and his wife took the time to have a family home evening with our family and all the children.

Some time ago I received a touching letter from Randy Spaulding, who lived in northern Utah. The letter explained the composition of his family and then the gradual onset of an illness that took his father from a healthy, strong individual to a weak and crippled middle-aged man. The father’s physical condition deteriorated until he could not work, could not walk, became confined to a wheelchair, and was almost helpless.
Randy told how the family and ward members have taken over the care of the farm and have provided much help to the family. Father can no longer speak; Mother is his constant provider of care—yet neither of them has uttered or written those words, “Why us?”
Let me return to Randy Spaulding’s actual words. He wrote: “One morning as I was thinking about the mundane things of life and hurrying out the door to begin the day, I happened to notice my father sitting in the corner of the room reading his scriptures. I stopped and went over to speak to him. I noticed the difficult circumstances he was under. With his right hand, he was trying to hold up his head enough to see me and read the Book of Mormon. I learned that at one of the most trying times, he still had enough faith to read about a God of love, a God of miracles who heals and makes us whole, and a God of life—eternal life. My father still believes. Oh, how I long to take him back in time to the Pool of Bethesda and to ask our Master if He would please have mercy on us, so that my father, also, could take up his bed and walk.”
His letter continued: “That day I returned to my bedroom and thanked my Heavenly Father for a father and mother second to none.”

Jung Sung Eun of Korea didn’t pass the qualification exam to become a teacher. Tina Roper of Utah, USA, lost a job that she had expected to turn into a career. Todd Schlensker of Ohio, USA, received a spiritual confirmation to marry but saw his engagement come to an end. Alessia Mazzolari (name has been changed) of Italy ended what appeared to be the perfect relationship.
No one likes having to resort to “plan B.” But even when our plans fall through, Heavenly Father does not abandon His children. There are multiple good ways for life to work out. In time, we may even find that the roadblocks that changed our plans gave us needed insight and experience (see D&C 122:7) and led to something better.
Sung Eun had worked hard to achieve her lifelong dream of becoming a teacher. She explains, “Because I have always tried to do my best in all I do, I have almost always been able to obtain what I hoped and prayed for.” But that didn’t happen when she took the teacher qualification exam. “When I failed it,” she says, “I felt I had lost all my dreams in one day.”
Tina wasn’t initially worried when another company acquired the one she worked for. The new organization promised her a long-term position, so she moved closer to her work with high hopes of an exciting new job. When the company laid her off a few months later, she felt “lost, confused, sad, and quite scared.”
Rather than focus completely on building their résumés, Sung Eun and Tina realized they could also focus on building their character. Both women found comfort through gospel study and prayer.
“The Apostle Paul was a wonderful friend who helped me be patient and continually confront challenges,” says Sung Eun. “He always had a positive attitude and willingly waited for what God had for him, rather than hoping for his own timing.
“I learned something from his example: the period of waiting is not merely the process that we must go through to get what we want. Rather, it is a process by which we become who our Heavenly Father wants us to be through changes we make.”
Tina found that the change she needed most was a shift in perspective. “I was surprised to discover that I had measured my self-worth in worldly ideas of value,” she remembers. “I felt valuable because of my employment and position, which were taken away. I now find my self-worth in the eternal truths that I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father and I have divine potential. These truths can never be taken away.”
Both Tina and Sung Eun admit that while building character isn’t always pleasant, the fruits of personal growth are sweet. Sung Eun says, “The year after I failed the teacher qualification exam was not only the most painful and depressing time period, but it was also the most precious. I became more able to truly understand other people’s difficulties and had a desire to help them with real intent and care.”
The examples of Ammon and his brothers in the Book of Mormon showed Tina how the Lord was stretching her faith to help her reach her full potential. “The Lord’s plan was for the Nephites to save their Lamanite brothers instead of using a sword to solve the problem,” she explains. “The sons of Mosiah were given a task that required greater faith, but they were also given a promise that if they bore their afflictions with patience, they would receive success (see Alma 26:27). Being patient is one of my hardest trials because I want to understand my entire plan—but I realized that Heavenly Father’s plan and timing for us will always be the best.”
Todd faced a bright future upon returning from his mission. While attending school, he met a wonderful young woman. After several months of courtship and a spiritual confirmation, Todd proposed and she accepted. They planned their wedding for the end of the summer, and both returned home from school to prepare.
“Three weeks after we said our good-byes at school, she ended our engagement,” Todd recalls. “Heartbroken could not express my feelings strongly enough. There were so many unanswered questions in my mind; it didn’t make sense. I had received a confirmation in the house of the Lord, and now our relationship was over. My testimony had never been tested this hard.
“Unfortunately, for years following my breakup, I couldn’t get past it. I didn’t know how I could ever trust a feeling of confirmation again. I had always trusted in the Lord and tried my best to keep the commandments,” he continues. “It all seemed for naught.”
Alessia also thought that her relationship with a certain young man was meant to be. “Our story was so beautiful that, even though we had the normal difficulties that every couple encounters, we thought the relationship would never end,” she remembers.
When Alessia’s boyfriend left on his mission, the separation was difficult but for a different reason than Alessia had expected. “While he was gone, I began to know myself better. I realized that many things in my life were not yet right and that many times I had hidden behind some silly ideas rather than humble myself and face reality,” she recounts. “I had been living in a kind of fairy tale, as if being in love were enough to make everything turn out right, and often this caused me to overlook the most important things.”
Still, Alessia expected a happy reunion and continued relationship after her boyfriend’s mission. However, upon his return, the couple dated only a short time before breaking up. “It was one of the most painful moments I can remember,” says Alessia.
In their respective experiences, Todd and Alessia both eventually recognized that even though a key relationship in their lives was altered, they couldn’t abandon their obedience and allegiance to the Lord. He became their anchor when everything else was changing and uncertain.
“I didn’t have all the answers to why I got a confirmation to marry someone, and it didn’t happen,” Todd recalls. “But I realized that didn’t matter. What did matter is that I still had faith in Christ, and I was going to use that faith to trust in whatever the Lord had in store for me.”
Alessia knew that completely pledging herself to the Lord would bring her the strength that she needed. “I understood that the moment had arrived for me to decide what kind of person I wanted to be,” she says. “Would I continue to live life halfway, or would I start on the path to becoming a true disciple of Christ? I wanted to know Him deeply, love Him truly, and try to be a better person by obeying all His commandments—not just externally but in my heart with true honesty.”
After being confronted with unanticipated setbacks, all four of these young adults struggled to find the courage to live in the present and again plan for the future. But they found that their faith in the Lord grew.
Sung Eun remembers that after failing her examination, trying new things became difficult. But then came a crucial discovery: “I realized that the real failure is to dwell on the past and make little effort to try to work things out. I decided that rather than continuing to be sad, I should turn this difficult time into an opportunity to learn. My ability to understand life in general broadened and deepened, and I learned that the end of one thing always brings about the beginning of something else.” She has since retaken and passed the exam and is now “a happy teacher who enjoys spending time with students each day.”
Tina chose to trust that something was waiting for her, even though it was difficult to face an uncertain future. “I decided to reenter school, and there I studied the art and technology field, an area I had desired to become involved in but I did not possess the needed skills,” she explains. “I am ready to start another adventure, a much better one, thanks to the wisdom of my Heavenly Father.”
Todd continued trying to date for six years and worked to develop trust in the Lord. Even when he met women he admired very much, he had to fight to keep his doubts from the past from destroying his hopes for the future. “Finding the determination not to succumb to my doubts of six years was not easy,” he says. “But I was firm in attempting to prove to myself that I really did trust in the Lord and His promptings, even though I had been angry with Him before.” A new relationship eventually led to a temple marriage.
“I often wonder why the Lord blessed me with someone as great as my wife when I struggled so long to fully trust the feelings of the Spirit,” reflects Todd. “It is a testimony to me that the Lord is waiting to bless us, but it’s always on His timetable.”
Alessia, by rededicating herself to the Lord, developed a deep and personal testimony. “The plan of salvation became real for me, and my covenants became more binding and deep. Christ’s Atonement was not theory anymore or something that I had read about, perhaps too superficially. A change of heart was happening inside, and I had a sure witness.” Today, she says, she feels like a new person.
Regardless of the turns life’s journey may take, the final destination of eternal life is what Heavenly Father plans for His children (see Moses 1:39). Some may even find that “plan B” was simply a way of making His “plan A” a reality.

When Elder Gardner H. Russell was nine years old, he helped build a chapel in his hometown. “Hand-cut stones had been purchased from an old building,” Elder Russell recalled, “and they still had mortar on them. I remember sitting outside in the cold weather, chipping the mortar off the stones so that we could reuse them. After the church was dedicated, I sometimes looked at the walls and thought that I could see some of the stones that I had worked on, and I felt a certain pride of ownership.”

Sig Verano had emigrated from his native Colombia, South America, to California, in 1963. Ana, the girl he was growing to love, was temporarily left behind while he began preparing to support himself, and possibly a family, in his new country.
He had received only three years of formal schooling in Colombia and spoke little English. In Los Angeles, California, his first job was making hats at the minimum legal wage, so he studied newspaper advertisements looking for something that would pay more. He spotted a training course for a “machinist.” The pay looked good, and in South America, a maquinista—train engineer—had regular employment, so he enrolled.
Sig did well in the course, but inquired after some time when they were going to get to the “big machines.” Be patient, he was told—that would come after the training. Toward the end of the training, he still had not seen a train engine. One day, he asked a co-worker how much they would travel in their future jobs. “What does travel have to do with this work?” the co-worker replied. After some confusing discussion, Sig finally asked, exasperated, “Will you please tell me exactly what we are learning?”
But Sig’s new job as a machinist was enough to provide the support he and Ana would need. They had continued their courtship by mail and were married by proxy in 1964. She emigrated to the United States in 1965. Edison, the first of their children, was born in 1966, followed by Julie in 1968 and Marbell in 1972.

When I was in my last year of Primary, a wonderful older lady named Marth Christensen was our teacher. She helped us learn the Articles of Faith. To this day I still know the Articles of Faith because of what I learned in Primary. We visited Sister Christensen’s home often. It was always a wonderful experience to be there. She taught us cooking skills, and we made cookies and candy. Sometimes we took the treats we had made to somebody who was homebound. The examples of wonderful teachers taught me to serve.

The pressure of trying to do a million things right and feeling like a failure was beginning to weigh me down. It was nearing exam time, and suddenly it seemed that most of my teachers realized that they still had three or four more chapters to squeeze in.
Even my efforts to get some of the less active Laurels back had become frustrating as I listened to endless excuses about why coming to church and activities was impossible.
I felt like a puppet whose strings were all being pulled at once without anyone letting go. On top of it all, I felt that I was facing everything alone. Sometimes crying made me feel better, but only for a moment.
Then one Sunday in Laurel class something happened that gave me the comfort and assurance I had been seeking. Our lesson for that particular Sunday was on pressures. How appropriate, I thought. The lesson did offer some helpful hints, but it was a scripture from the Doctrine and Covenants that seemed directed specifically at me.
“Be patient in afflictions, for thou shalt have many; but endure them, for, lo, I am with thee, even unto the end of thy days” (D&C 24:8).
How could I have been so forgetful? I was never alone. My Heavenly Father was beside me the whole way. In the face of my trials and pressures, I had simply forgotten. As I looked back, I realized that the trials I had been through had made me stronger. Through opposition, I had grown. I felt ready to face future obstacles, knowing that my Heavenly Father would be right beside me, helping me to overcome them.

The excitement of Valentine’s Day was growing. The valentine boxes in Cady’s class were decorated and ready to receive the special cards. The teacher, Mrs. Duncan, gave everybody a class list so that each child could address a valentine to every other class member.
Cady loved Valentine’s Day. She enjoyed sending and receiving special notes any day of the year. It was not unusual for her to put a note under her mom’s and dad’s pillows. When her sister went on a trip, she neatly tucked a note in her bag. She looked forward to getting notes from her family in her lunch box or a word of encouragement in her backpack. Cady knew how good it felt when she got notes, so she tried to help others have the same feeling.
When Billy* wasn’t around, the other children in his fifth-grade class were talking about the big day when the valentine boxes would be emptied. One said, "Let’s give valentines to everyone but Billy." Hesitantly each agreed on the plan.
Cady was troubled, though. She knew that Billy came from a family that didn’t have very much money. Sometimes he came to school scruffy and dirty. The children made fun of him and didn’t include him when they played. Cady felt sad about that, and she knew she had been wrong to agree with her classmates.
That afternoon as she sat at the kitchen table, addressing her valentines with her best friend, who was in another class, she had an idea! She explained to her friend and Mom how sad Billy would be if he didn’t get any valentines. Then she asked her mom for some more valentines.
Soon Cady and her friend had a whole bunch of valentines for Billy. They hoped that their cards would make Valentine’s Day a happy day for him. The next day they secretly tucked the valentines into his box.
When Billy opened it and saw all the valentines, he was thrilled. Cady’s heart swelled as she remembered the words of the Savior, "Love one another, as I have loved you."

After school I’d go to my dad’s bakery, stand on a can next to him, and learn about running a bakery. When I’d leave to go play with my friends, one of my Primary teachers would step out from where she worked as a dishwasher, take hold of my hand, and say, “Are you being a good boy?” It didn’t matter what I had on my mind, whether it was good or not. I would say, “Yes.” If I had been planning mischief, my plans would change. I knew that she loved me.

Like any self-respecting teenager in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I attended seminary for four consecutive years. This meant long hours of gospel learning in addition to Sunday and family study hours. It was sometimes a difficult and trying experience.
I began seminary in 2017 in our Pare Ward of the Arue Tahiti Stake. I was in 9th grade in school at the time, and I was eager to be part of this youth group.
During my first year, I woke up before 5 am every weekday to get to seminary on time. I did my readings, and I was very attentive in class. I realized seminary contributed to deepening my relationship with God. Without Him, I would not have been able to successfully pass my school’s National Certificate Exam at the end of year 9.
Over the next two years, I gradually became lax in my duties, missing seminary or arriving late more often. I lost my desire to attend seminary, so I was less consistent in my efforts.
Accordingly, my 10th year in school was difficult, but I was unaware at the time of how this was related to my performance in seminary.
In year 11, I started going out with classmates who dabbled in things our Church doesn’t recommend, like alcohol and cigarettes. I even felt a little ashamed of not being like these friends and not hanging out more with them.
Consequently, my annual grades were low and if I had to take the bachelor exam that year, I doubt I would have passed.
Then, the COVID pandemic changed our daily lives, which I thank God for. When seminary classes started up on our smartphones, it was as if to counteract the evil that is also rampant on there.
Although I still had moments of weakness, I decided to hang in there and tried to sincerely follow the lessons of seminary, to benefit from God’s help in my studies.
I am grateful for my parents. Without them, I would have dropped out of seminary and followed the same path as my nonmember friends. As my favorite seminary teachers, they watched over me, making sure I stayed connected to God.
Then, healthy social relationships with the youth of the ward became my lifeline. Our activities together renewed me each time I was not in the mood. Among these friends was Corail Sommers, who never judged but always listened and encouraged and raised me up by her example.
In their own ways, they each contributed to my personal balance.
The discipline of daily immersion in the scriptures paid off in my last year of seminary, which was also my 12th and final year of school.
My seminary study habits allowed me to be better organized. While I’m not a fan of reading, I strove to read daily. It allowed me to maintain my relationship—even a fragile one—with Heavenly Father.
That year, I passed my bachelor diploma with honors. I got my driver’s license on my first try. I received my call to serve a mission in Paris. All in all, the hand of God was in my life the whole time I was in seminary and at school.
Looking back, I testify that God will always help because He loves us.
Seminary is exactly what we need as young people to help us to trust God and to let him prevail in our lives. He always trusted me.

Two doubts may creep into your mind. You may wonder if you know the doctrine well enough to teach it. And if you have already tried to teach it, you may wonder why you can’t see much of the good effects.

In my own family there is a story of a young woman who had the courage to start to teach doctrine when she was only a new convert with little education. And the fact that the effects of her teaching haven’t ended gives me patience to wait for the fruits of my own efforts.

Mary Bommeli was my great-grandmother. I never met her. Her granddaughter heard her tell her story and wrote it down.

Mary was born in 1830. The missionaries taught her family in Switzerland when she was 24. She was still living at home, weaving and selling cloth to help support her family on their small farm. When the family heard the doctrine of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, they knew it was true. They were baptized. Mary’s brothers were called on missions, going without purse or scrip. The rest of the family sold their possessions to go to America to gather with the Saints.

There was not enough money for all to go. Mary volunteered to stay behind because she felt she could earn enough from her weaving to support herself and save for her passage. She found her way to Berlin and to the home of a woman who hired her to weave cloth for the family’s clothing. She lived in a servant’s room and set up her loom in the living area of the home.

It was against the law then to teach the doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Berlin. But Mary could not keep the good news to herself. The woman of the house and her friends would gather around the loom to hear the Swiss girl teach. She talked about the appearance of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to Joseph Smith, of the visitation of angels, and of the Book of Mormon. When she came to the accounts of Alma, she taught the doctrine of the Resurrection.

That caused some problems with her weaving. In those days, many children died very young. The women around the loom had lost children in death, some of them several children. When Mary taught the truth that little children were heirs of the celestial kingdom and that those women might again be with them and with the Savior and our Heavenly Father, tears rolled down the faces of the women. Mary cried too. All those tears falling got the cloth wet that Mary had woven.

Mary’s teaching created a more serious problem. Even though Mary begged the women not to talk about what she told them, they did. They shared the joyous doctrine with their friends. So one night there was a knock at the door. It was the police. They took Mary off to jail. On the way, she asked the policeman for the name of the judge she was to appear before the next morning. She asked if he had a family. She asked if he was a good father and a good husband. The policeman smiled as he described the judge as a man of the world.

At the jail, Mary asked for a pencil and some paper. She wrote a letter to the judge. She wrote about the Resurrection of Jesus Christ as described in the Book of Mormon, about the spirit world, and about how long the judge would have to think and to consider his life before facing the final judgment. She wrote that she knew he had much to repent of which would break his family’s heart and bring him great sorrow. She wrote through the night. In the morning she asked the policeman to take her letter to the judge. He did.

Later, the policeman was summoned by the judge to his office. The letter Mary had written was irrefutable evidence that she was teaching the gospel and so breaking the law. Nevertheless, it wasn’t long until the policeman came back to Mary’s cell. He told her that all charges were dismissed and that she was free to go, on the conditions she had stated in her letter. Her teaching the doctrine of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ had opened eyes and hearts enough to get her cast into jail. And her declaring the doctrine of repentance to the judge got her cast out of jail (see Theresa Snow Hill, Life and Times of Henry Eyring and Mary Bommeli [1997], 15–22).

The teaching of Mary Bommeli touched more than those women around the loom and the judge. My father, her grandson, talked to me during the nights as he approached death. He spoke of joyous reunions that were coming soon in the spirit world. I could almost see the bright sunlight and the smiles in that place of paradise as he talked about it with such assurance.

At one point, I asked him if he had some repenting to do. He smiled. He chuckled softly as he said, “No, Hal, I’ve been repenting as I went along.” The doctrine of paradise that Mary Bommeli taught those women was real to her grandson. And even the doctrine Mary taught the judge had shaped my father’s life for good. That will not be the end of Mary Bommeli’s teaching. The record of her words will send true doctrine to generations of her family yet unborn. Because she believed that even a new convert knew enough doctrine to teach it, the minds and hearts of her descendants will be opened, and they will be strengthened in the battle.

As a young BYU student, I learned a little something about staying on course when heading home. One Christmas Eve, my brother and I were driving home to Kansas, when we learned that a huge snowstorm was coming our way. We pulled out a map, found a detour, and headed into parts unknown. We ran right into the blizzard!
To make matters worse, late that night as we were creeping along an obscure highway in blinding snow, our old car quit. We were stranded. And we had absolutely no idea where we were.
Eventually we caught a ride to the nearest town, where we found that we were still hours from home and marooned in Last Chance, Colorado. There was only one thing to do. We called home for help, and our father left in the middle of the night to rescue us. By the next afternoon we were all safely home. Our father had done for us what we could not do for ourselves.

Then there was that night in early autumn. I was lying in my bed thinking when I heard a dull thud from the direction of the bathroom. As I slid off the top bunk bed and headed toward the bathroom, I heard a quiet moan. Straining my eyes to see in the late night hours, I turned on the bathroom light. My grandma was lying on the floor.
“Grandma!” I said startled. “What happened?”
“Shh,” she answered quietly. “Turn off the light. I don’t want to wake up the whole household! I’m all right. Just give me a hand.”
As I put my arm around her thin weak body, I could feel her trembling. I guided her back into the bedroom and tried to help her back onto the bed.
As I pulled the quilts up around her face, she said, “I’m sorry I woke you up. Now you go on back to bed.”
“You didn’t wake me up, grandma,” I answered. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”
The dim moonlight shining in through a crack in the bedroom curtains illuminated my grandma’s face. Her fine gray hair was straight and limp from her having to stay in bed. I suddenly noticed how thin she’d become. I remembered hugging her in her big black fur coat when I was small. She was much heavier then, almost plump.
“Promise me you won’t tell anyone about this,” grandma said.
“Next time you might really hurt yourself. Mom would be so mad if I didn’t tell her.”
“Never mind your mom. I’m her mom, so that makes me the boss. As long as I’m alive, I’m going to go to the bathroom by myself. She’ll torment me about using the bedpan if you tell her.”
“All right, grandma,” I answered.
“What are you doing awake at this time of night anyway?” grandma interrupted, trying to change the subject.
“Oh, just thinking, I guess,” I answered.
“What do you have to think about that can’t wait till morning?”
I sat down on the bed next to her.
“It’s nothing important really. Just that old dance I went to tonight. I didn’t really want to go anyway.”
“Your older sisters sure had you dolled up,” grandma said as she took my hand.
“Oh, they thought I looked good, but I just looked like them. I felt awful. Nylons make my legs itch. The music was too loud, and it was too hot, and I can’t stand my hair fixed up with sticky hair spray. The whole time I was wishing I was someplace else.”
“Where else would you want to be?”
“Oh, it’s a place not far from here,” I answered. “But don’t tell my older sisters. They already think I’m a lost cause because I won’t sit out in the sun cooking in baby oil for hours to get a suntan and listen to the radio and try their makeup and perfume. They’re always trying to fix my hair for me too. But I like it this way. I’m sorry,” I said starting to stand up. “I better let you go to sleep.”
Grandma smiled. “I don’t sleep much at night anymore anyway.”
“Well, up in the field at the end of our street, there’s an old irrigation ditch with a big old knotty tree hugging the banks. I go up there and climb just as high as the tree will let me before it dips its top. I sit there for hours sometimes and when the wind starts up, the branches will sway and bow almost like a cradle rocking me to sleep. I love it there, grandma. I feel like I’m part of it; the trees and sweet-smelling weed grass and soaring birds, even the insects chirping in the grass seem my friends.”
I stopped. Grandma’s warm palm felt good around my hand.
“I’ve never told anybody about it before,” I said, looking into her eyes. “Sometimes I think something’s wrong with me. I’m supposed to like parties and dances and boys now. My sisters think I’m hopeless. I don’t know if I’m scared or what. I feel funny inside sometimes. I’m just not ready yet, I guess. I don’t know if I ever will be or want to be.”
“You know, I’m a tree climber from way back,” grandma said.
“Really, grandma?”
“You’re not the only one who feels scared sometimes,” grandma answered. “I’m not sure I ever told anybody this either, but, I’m not sure if it’s the worry of keeping on living or dying that scares me the most,” she answered. “I want you to do something for me. I want you to tell your mom and all your aunts and uncles to quit praying for me to die. They don’t think I know that they’re praying that way, but I do. Tell them I’m not ready to die yet.”
“Why are they praying for you to die, grandma?”
“They don’t want me to suffer anymore.”
“Are you suffering, grandma?”
“I’ve suffered worse pain than a sick body,” grandma said. “I just don’t want to die before I’m good and ready. I like living too much. Seems like life’s always pushing at a person before he’s ready to jump. So don’t you give up your tree climbing till you’re good and ready. I’m not about to die yet, so don’t you worry.”
Next thing I knew, it was morning. Grandma was sleeping next to me, breathing heavily. I tiptoed out of the room and hurried to get ready for school.