Gospel Story Finder

Because of the shifting population, ward boundaries were reorganized. Parts of three wards were combined into one ward, and I was called as bishop. I had a few days to think about counselors. The first name came quickly and the Spirit confirmed it. But I wasn’t immediately sure who the other counselor should be.
I considered several younger men in the new ward, but I didn’t know them well. It seemed to me that we needed them more in the Young Men organization.
I knew an older man, Larry Morgan, who had lived in the neighborhood for a long time. In fact, he had been a youth leader when I was a teenager. Now he was 76. I felt prompted to talk with him. “Maybe he’ll help me become better acquainted with some of the people I don’t know,” I thought.
He was standing in the driveway when I arrived at his home, and without a word spoken, I knew Larry was to be the other counselor. I visited with him for a few minutes; then I returned home and called the stake president. That Sunday the bishopric was sustained, with Larry as second counselor.
Larry was soft-spoken and deliberate in his manner, but when he spoke, people listened. He also had unwavering faith in the Lord. I soon learned to trust his counsel.

In 1937, Elder Ashton accepted a mission call to Great Britain. After arriving in his mission field, Elder Ashton wanted to have a “burning” testimony. After reading and rereading the Book of Mormon, he said he had an impression: “You’ve known the Church was true all your life. Get off your knees and go to work.” His testimony was not quite the lightning bolt he wanted, but his quiet kind of testimony was just as powerful.

Several years ago, President Russell M. Nelson invited the young adults of the Church “to increase their testimony” and “learn all they can about Jesus Christ.” He asked them to spend some time each week “to study everything Jesus said and did as recorded in the standard works” using the scripture citations under the heading Jesus Christ in the Topical Guide or Guide to the Scriptures.

At that time, President Nelson had already “read and underlined every verse cited about Jesus Christ, as listed under the main heading and the 57 subtitles in the Topical Guide.” He studied over 2,200 scriptures! It took him six weeks to complete the task. When President Nelson’s wife Wendy asked him what impact studying all those scriptures had on him, he said, “I am a different man!”

Last general conference, I was called by President Monson to be the new Young Women general president. As I stood in the presence of a prophet of God and was given this sacred trust, I pledged that I would serve with all my heart, might, mind, and strength. Prior to this calling, I had a small plate inscribed with a motto that read, “I can do hard things.” That little plate bearing that simple motto gave me courage. But now if I could change that motto, it would read: “In the strength of the Lord, I can do all things.” It is on that strength that I rely today as I stand at this sacred pulpit.
Last April, two days after general conference, we held our first meeting as a newly sustained presidency. We hiked to the top of Ensign Peak, and as we looked on the valley below, we saw the temple with the angel Moroni shining in the sun. For each of us, it was clear. The vision for our presidency was the temple. And our responsibility was also clear. We must “help prepare each young woman to be worthy to make and keep sacred covenants and receive the ordinances of the temple.”
The temple is the reason for everything we do in the Church. The temple was the reason our pioneer ancestors left their established homes and came west. It was the reason they suffered privation and even death. Temple covenants were the reason that, although babies were buried along the way, those pioneers could sing:
Come, come, ye Saints,
No toil nor labor fear;
But with joy wend your way.
Some lost everything but came into the valley with everything, really—temple ordinances, sacred covenants, and the promise of eternal life together as families.
Just two days after the Saints arrived in the Salt Lake Valley, Brigham Young and his associates hiked Ensign Peak. Atop that peak they unfurled a banner—a yellow bandana tied to a walking stick, which symbolized an ensign or standard to the nations. The Saints were to be the light, the standard. Last April, atop Ensign Peak, we three women also unfurled a banner which we made from a walking stick and a gold Peruvian shawl. It was our ensign, our standard to the nations—our banner calling for a return to virtue.
Virtue is a prerequisite to entering the Lord’s holy temples and to receiving the Spirit’s guidance. Virtue “is a pattern of thought and behavior based on high moral standards.” It encompasses chastity and moral purity. Virtue begins in the heart and in the mind. It is nurtured in the home. It is the accumulation of thousands of small decisions and actions. Virtue is a word we don’t hear often in today’s society, but the Latin root word virtus means strength. Virtuous women and men possess a quiet dignity and inner strength. They are confident because they are worthy to receive and be guided by the Holy Ghost. President Monson has counseled: “You be the one to make a stand for right, even if you stand alone. Have the moral courage to be a light for others to follow. There is no friendship more valuable than your own clear conscience, your own moral cleanliness—and what a glorious feeling it is to know that you stand in your appointed place clean and with the confidence that you are worthy to do so.”
Could it be that we have been slowly desensitized into thinking that high moral standards are old-fashioned and not relevant or important in today’s society? As Elder Hales has just reminded us, Lehonti in the Book of Mormon was well positioned on the top of a mountain. He and those he led were “fixed in their minds with a determined resolution” that they would not come down from the mount. It only took the deceitful Amalickiah four tries, each one more bold than the previous, to get Lehonti to “come down off from the mount.” And then having embraced Amalickiah’s false promises, Lehonti was “poison[ed] by degrees” until he died. Not just poisoned, but “by degrees.” Could it be that this may be happening today? Could it be that first we tolerate, then accept, and eventually embrace the vice that surrounds us? Could it be that we have been deceived by false role models and persuasive media messages that cause us to forget our divine identity? Are we too being poisoned by degrees? What could be more deceptive than to entice the youth of this noble generation to do nothing or to be busy ever-texting but never coming to a knowledge of the truths contained in a book that was written for you and your day by prophets of God—the Book of Mormon? What could be more deceptive than to entice women, young and old, you and me, to be so involved in ourselves, our looks, our clothes, our body shape and size that we lose sight of our divine identity and our ability to change the world through our virtuous influence? What could be more deceptive than to entice men—young and old, holding the holy priesthood of God—to view seductive pornography and thus focus on flesh instead of faith, to be consumers of vice rather than guardians of virtue? The Book of Mormon relates the story of 2,000 young heroes whose virtue and purity gave them the strength to defend their parents’ covenants and their family’s faith. Their virtue and commitment to be “true at all times” changed the world!
I truly believe that one virtuous young woman or young man, led by the Spirit, can change the world, but in order to do so, we must return to virtue. We must engage in strict training. As the marathon runner Juma Ikangaa said after winning the New York Marathon, “The will to win is nothing without the will to prepare.” Now is the time to prepare by exercising more self-discipline. Now is the time to become “more fit for the kingdom.” Now is the time to set our course and focus on the finish. A return to virtue must begin individually in our hearts and in our homes.
What can each of us do to begin our return to virtue? The course and the training program will be unique to each of us. I have derived my personal training program from instructions found in the scriptures: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly.” “Cleave unto [your] covenants.” “Stand … in holy places.” “Lay aside the things of [the] world.” “Believe that ye must repent.” “Always remember him and keep his commandments.” And “if there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, … seek after these things.” Now more than ever before, it is time to respond to Moroni’s call to “awake, and arise” and to “lay hold upon every good gift, and touch not the evil gift, nor the unclean thing.”
Recently I attended the blessing of our newest granddaughter. It was a holy sight to me as my husband and our sons, along with many other loved ones, encircled this little infant. She was so elegant all dressed in white—and it didn’t hurt a bit that she was named after her two grandmothers! But the thing that touched me most was the blessing given by her father, our son Zach. He blessed little Annabel Elaine that she would understand her identity as a daughter of God, that she would follow the examples of her mother, grandmothers, and sister, and that she would find great joy as she lived a virtuous life and prepared to make and keep sacred temple covenants. In that sacred moment, I prayed that every young woman might be encircled, strengthened, and protected by righteous priesthood power, not only at the time of birth and blessing but throughout life.
During the solemn assembly last conference when President Uchtdorf called for the sustaining of our new prophet and First Presidency, I watched the entire congregation of priesthood brethren arise and stand. I felt your strength and your priesthood power. You are the guardians of virtue. Then I was overcome with emotion when he said, “Will the young women please arise?” From my seat, I saw all of you arise and stand together. Today there could be no more powerful force for virtue in the world. You must never underestimate the power of your righteous influence.

For example, in 1909, the Portuguese king D. Manuel II appointed by royal decree the grandmother of Sister Teixeira as a teacher of the Portuguese language in Angola—then an African colony of Portugal that had been founded in 1575.

Sister Teixeira’s father, Arnaldo Teles Grilo, graduated from the University of Lisbon in Portugal as an engineer. He began his career with the National Agency of Agriculture and later went to Angola, where he became a successful executive in a Portuguese bank and led its operations there. As a result, Sister Teixeira spent a great part of her childhood in Africa.

Life in Africa was wonderful for her and was full of joyful experiences. She had the love of immediate and extended family around her and all the comforts that life can provide—until, suddenly, a war emerged. Her family found themselves in the midst of an unstoppable conflict that ultimately compelled them to return to Portugal and leave behind all of their abundant possessions.

Despite the confusion and turmoil generated by a war that gradually consumed all peace and stability during their last months in Africa, Teles Grilo helped a friend escape the war by ­giving him a reliable car that he had recently ­purchased at the Mercedes Benz factory in Stuttgart, Germany (see José A. Teixeira, “Facing the Future with Hope,” Ensign, July 2012).

Ironically, of all the possessions that Teles Grilo and his family had acquired and left behind in Angola—including homes, art pieces, and one of the largest private collections of books in that country—the only possession that was returned to him back in Portugal was the one he had given to someone in need. Yes, his friend shipped the Mercedes Benz back to Portugal from South Africa with a note of thanks, saying that Teles Grilo’s love and compassion had saved his life and the life of his mother.

Sister Teixeira and her family returned to Portugal after this tragic war to find what would become one of their most precious blessings: the missionaries began to teach them the message of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The teachings of the plan of salvation made an impression on Sister Teixeira and her family. They had many other priorities at that time, including reorganizing their lives after the recent tragic events, yet they decided that their greatest priority was to do those things that would enable them to return to their Heavenly Father. They were baptized, and later they traveled to Switzerland to be sealed in the temple.

Some time ago I counseled a student who struggled with self-harm behavior. As I tried to understand why she felt compelled to cut herself she described to me that she felt unworthy as a person and that she felt that she needed to be punished for her unworthiness. She could not identify any specific reasons that she was unworthy; she could only convey a nebulous sense of not measuring up. This student expressed a belief in the atonement, but she felt that it didn’t really apply to her. I was struck by her lack of understanding of the personal nature of the atonement of Jesus Christ.

All students in Ireland are required to take religion class. Even though they go to early-morning seminary, these Latter-day Saint students are not excused from their school religion requirement. But their study of the scriptures has paid off. Louise explains, “Franciscan friars visited our school. When they were asking questions, they would point to me and put their fingers to their lips as if to say, ‘Shhh, don’t answer the questions.’ They knew I could answer them.”

Elaine tells a similar story about religion class. “If my teacher asked what a word means, like covenant, I would answer,” she says. “He knew I would know the answer no matter what he asked.”

Derek Fagan, age 17, has excelled in both school and seminary, and he credits an experience he had just before he received his patriarchal blessing: “We had been talking about patriarchal blessings in seminary. I prayed and asked if I should get mine. Our stake did not have a patriarch at that time, but three days later, our new patriarch was called. I felt it was my answer. That’s when I decided for myself that the Church is true and that I would try harder to do well and choose the right. My patriarchal blessing was amazing. I carry it with me everywhere. Since early-morning seminary started, everything has been clearer. Even in school, I learn very quickly now.”

Derek became the first seminary student in Ireland to memorize all the scripture mastery scriptures. As an extra challenge, he memorized the account of the First Vision as found in Joseph Smith—History.

Brandt Crowther remembers an experience he had a few months after he and his family arrived in Ireland: “I had prayed almost every night of my life, but one night, I prayed with sincerity and asked the Lord what He wanted me to do here in Ireland. I needed to know in my heart that the Church is true. I found out that God does live and He loves me. I gained an understanding of what He wanted me to do. Since then, I’ve been happy being here. I’ve loved it. I’m closer to the Savior now.”

Brandt explains some of the things the Lord told him he needed to do: “I needed to read the scriptures every day and pray every night and keep the commandments. That night the Spirit was with me. I didn’t want to go to bed.”

Seminary class often helped Farris find answers: “I received a testimony of prayer and of tithing. I would pray about things I really needed to find out about—and then it would click in seminary. I would understand things better. What is it like when the Spirit gives you an answer? You’re calm, and you understand things. You’re not nervous. You know it’s true. You feel it in your heart.”

The students in this seminary class enjoy being together. And now every weekday morning isn’t enough. They get together every Saturday night, too.

It all started when Louise’s mother told Brett that Louise’s friends always ask her to go to the pub with them on Saturdays, but she never goes. “We decided to get the whole class together and go out and have some fun,” says Brett. “We’ve been getting together every Saturday night. It’s good fun.”

What do they do? The first week they went to the cinema, but that quickly became too expensive. So they started going to each other’s houses to play games or watch videos or just talk and talk and talk. Elaine explains, “We used to have nothing to talk about; now we don’t have enough time to talk.”

For Louise, having something else to do on Saturdays has strengthened her resolve to stay strong in the Church. “It’s a reason for me not to go with my friends from work every weekend,” she explains. “Sometimes I used to go along. I didn’t do anything I shouldn’t, but just being there didn’t feel good. It eventually wears out your spirit. I got so tired of trying to speak up for myself. But when I go with the seminary class, I can just be me. I feel accepted.”

And most of all, “Saturday nights are fun,” says Pamela. “My other friends’ standards are completely different from mine. I feel much better going to the seminary activity. We have great fun.”

Derek adds, “Early-morning seminary and our activities on Saturday evenings have brought us closer, and we’re better friends. I’ve gotten a lot closer to everyone in the class, even Pamela, my sister. I wouldn’t even consider going out and getting drunk and breaking the Word of Wisdom.”

Most of all, this year of seminary has taught these students the meaning of faith. Their teacher, Rosemary Richmond, helps them learn from Church history about the faith of the early prophets and members. Her husband, Brendan, suffers from an extremely rare and damaging lung disorder and is confined to a wheelchair. Although she has the constant worry of her husband’s care and health, she is eager to prepare lessons and have the seminary class come each morning.

“Members here are very faithful, especially Rosemary, with all the trials she’s been through,” Louise says. “It makes you realize how lucky you are. In seminary we read about the Prophet Joseph Smith and the pioneers. Joseph Smith is a great man. I love him. The testimony he had never faltered. Can you imagine living back in those days? The pioneers had to walk halfway across North America just to practice what they believed. I want that sort of faith because I love the Church.”

Louise is developing that kind of faith. Every day she stands up for her beliefs. And with her small group of valiant seminary friends, she doesn’t have to stand alone. None of them do. They have found a way to strengthen each other. And that has made all the difference.

One family, the Leotas, arrived in Hawaii on New Year’s Day 1923. Seven-year-old Vailine Leota remembered, “Our first [view] of the temple … was the most beautiful sight.”3 Just two weeks later, Vailine’s parents, Aivao and Matala, received their endowments and were sealed as a couple, and their children were sealed to them. The Leotas served faithfully in the house of the Lord for 50 years and were buried “near the temple they loved so much.”4 Today, hundreds of their faithful descendants live throughout Hawaii.

“Ro-sie!” called Mama. “It is time for you and Heman to take Papa his dinner.”
We needed no second call, for this was one errand we delighted in doing. Mama filled a plate with hot food, covered it with a soup dish to keep in the warmth, wrapped it carefully in a large napkin, and placed it in a basket. Then she handed the basket to us with final instructions: “Carry it carefully, don’t play on the way, and hurry home after Papa has eaten.”
It was ten blocks from our home on East Third South to Salt Lake Temple Block where Papa worked as a stonecutter. But it didn’t seem that long to us as we talked of the fun we’d have while Papa ate his dinner. It was interesting to watch the huge granite blocks being brought in from the canyon quarry by ox-drawn wagons. While the wagons were unloaded, the oxen stood patiently switching at flies with their tails. After the rough blocks were cut and smoothed to the required shape and size, they were tilted and placed in rows like dominoes, leaving the sharp edges protruding like saw teeth. We enjoyed running back and forth on top of these stone dominoes in our bare feet. Shoes were saved for Sunday and for school.
Sometimes we would watch as skilled workmen cut sun, moon, and star designs into certain stones. Each held a small iron chisel in his left hand and a hard wooden mallet in his right, tapping gently so as not to chip out too much rock and spoil the pattern.
Today Papa had a special surprise for us. He said, “The men who are making the circular staircase (there was one in each corner of the building) say you may go up as far as it is completed, but you must be very quiet, because this is the Lord’s house.”
I took Heman’s hand, and together we climbed the huge stone steps—up, up, up until we were out of breath. It was easier going down. Then Papa took us into the carpenter shop where wood for the building was sawed. On the floor was a heap of clean sawdust and Papa told us that the foreman said it would be all right for us to take some home so Mama could show us how to make a pincushion. “Someday it will be a fine thing,” Papa said, “to have a pincushion made with temple sawdust.”
Eagerly we filled the basket with fragrant sawdust and hurried home. But Mama had no time right then to help with a pincushion. She was trying to finish the washing and ironing for Sister Young, who lived next door, and the baby was cross. I rocked the baby to sleep, then helped Mama prepare supper.
In the evening, after the dishes were washed and put away, Mama found a piece of sturdy brown cloth on which she drew a large fig leaf. She showed me how to embroider green lines for veins and outline the edge with a blanket stitch. A matching piece for the back was sewed to the front, leaving a hole near the top to pour in the temple sawdust until the leaf would hold no more. Then we sewed the hole shut so none of the precious sawdust would be lost. When the pincushion was finished I proudly showed it to Papa for his approval, then placed it on top of Mama’s bureau with my other special treasures.
Sometime later Mama was called to Idaho to help with a new grandchild, leaving me to do the cooking and housekeeping. Heman helped Papa with outside chores, while our little sisters Aggie and Birdie played together under the trees. One morning I noticed how faded and worn Birdie’s hand-me-down dresses were and asked Papa for a quarter to buy material to make her a new dress. At McMaster’s Store I bought a piece of lovely pink gingham. Laying it on the floor, and using pins from the temple-sawdust cushion, I pinned one of Birdie’s old dresses to the cloth for a pattern, then cut around it carefully, and sewed the pieces together. Birdie looked as sweet as a rosebud when Papa came from work that evening.
When I was older I found work in a dressmaking shop, and learned how to make nice clothes for myself and for Mama and my little sisters too. Soon after this Jody, my childhood sweetheart, asked me to marry him. Looking closely at the temple-sawdust pincushion one day, I knew I wanted to be married in the temple. But after nearly forty years in building, the temple still was not completed, so Jody’s father solved the problem by giving us railroad tickets to Logan. On a beautiful June day we were married in the Logan Temple for time and all eternity.
The pincushion made from temple sawdust traveled with us to our home in Salt Lake City. It went with us wherever we lived. And it has been a reminder to each of our eight children that the temple is a sacred and important place. Papa was right. It has, indeed, been “a fine thing to have a pincushion made with temple sawdust.”

This summer I was in a 4-H club. At the county fair I showed my lamb, Queenie. I won two trophies for showmanship and was invited to a round robin competition for a big trophy. When the judge told me that the competition was going to be on Sunday, I felt a weird feeling inside, as if my heart had stopped pumping blood. I told him that I couldn’t go. I was disappointed, but the Holy Ghost let me know that I was doing the right thing. It was hard, but now I know that I can make hard decisions. This will help me the next time I have a hard decision to make.

Recently on a flight home, I found myself next to Steve, who shared with me parts of his personal story. He had graduated from high school, entered the U.S. Army as a communications specialist at 18 years old, and soon began working at the White House, providing communications support to the President of the United States. From age 18 to 26, he served two U.S. Presidents. His stories were fascinating!
“Steve,” I said, “you have to write these stories down for your posterity! They need to have these stories firsthand from your perspective.” He agreed.
Then the Spirit prompted me to ask him what he knew about his ancestors. Steve knew plenty about his mother’s side, including a story of how his family had once eaten dinner with Abraham Lincoln while he had been campaigning through the countryside during the 1860 U.S. presidential election.
He knew very little about his father’s side, however. He really wanted to know more. I pulled out my phone and opened the FamilySearch app. “Steve, we can find your family right now!”
I connected to the in-flight Wi-Fi. I rested my phone on the tray table in front of me so we could both see. We searched FamilyTree. Within minutes we were both staring at his great-grandfather’s marriage certificate to his great-grandmother.
“That’s them!” he said. “I remember her last name now!”
The spirit of excitement poured over both of us. We worked on building profiles for his lesser-known ancestors for the next 45 minutes. He asked me to promise him that we would continue searching together in Colorado. We exchanged contact information as the plane was landing.
Here we were, flying 30,000 feet (9,144 m) in the air, with a device as small as my hand, searching for a man and a woman married 100 years ago who had been lost to him and his family. Incredible! But we found them. Families were linked. Stories were remembered. Feelings of gratitude were felt for the technology and the tools. It was nothing short of a miracle.
Jonathan Petty, Colorado, USA
Photograph from Getty Images

In 1978, Elder Marvin J. Ashton of the Quorum of the Twelve published a valuable book for young and old entitled What Is Your Destination? He expressed concern that many become confused in their journey through life. Some may be lost, on the other hand, because they think they have arrived! Elder Ashton mentioned examples of fundamental guidelines such as temple marriage, mission calls, education, and opportunities for service, pointing out that progress “is a continuing process, not a state of arrival.”
Decisions determine and regulate our progress. We make them every day. To make wise ones, it is important to have goals, objectives, purposes, a sense of direction, constant reevaluation and reckoning. Following missionary service in the British Isles, I wrote some goals for the next 20 years of my life on a yellow pad of paper. I still have that pad. Nearly all of the goals I set have been exceeded. I was blessed to be guided by the principle Elder Ashton outlined, namely that “it is a continuing process, not a state of arrival.” One objective outlined was not achieved, but that was something beyond my control. The Lord saw fit not to grant that particular blessing. However, it was compensated for in many, many other ways.
The teachings and practices of the Church provide very significant guidelines: clean living, that we may have health and strength, joy and happiness on earth; baptism, reminding us of our status and accountability; the gift of the Holy Ghost, our striving to really receive and benefit from this personage whose mission is to guide us into all truth; missionary service; temple marriage; a useful and productive life of service through work; family and children; constant self-improvement to equip us for better service to our fellowmen. The gospel principles of faith and repentance are the keys to (1) achievement, (2) correction of mistakes, and (3) reevaluation of where we are going.
To make decisions, the best formula I have found is prayer, study, work, seeking wise counsel, and then doing something about it. May I offer a few examples.
Entering Roosevelt Junior High School in Salt Lake City required some important decisions for me. One September day I was confronted with new choices! What subjects to take? Thus far my schooling had been prescribed. We had gone at 9:00 A.M. and followed through the day with what was presented in our homeroom. Now we were to change classes each period, going from room to room. Should I take Algebra A and B, or a course called Mathematics? Or, something called General Science? English, physical education, and some selections were prescribed. But there was remarkable latitude in other choices. I could take U.S. History, or something called Civics. I could elect to study Spanish, Latin, or French. Some of us had the benefit of prior consultation with our parents. In line with their counsel, I was left with the choices I have indicated.
I also discussed my choices with two classmates. One was the son of a University of Utah professor of history. The other was a future doctor of medicine, whose older brothers had already attended the University of Utah and had gone through “the mill.” Both were wise young men. I benefited by discussion with them. After a few hours, I made my choices: Algebra A with Miss Cora D. Patterson, continuing the second semester with Algebra B, the binomial theorem, factoring, and other algebraic systems. I elected Spanish, a modern language, with Miss Grace Hogan as teacher. Assignments to stake conferences in Mexico and Latin-America have been assisted by that choice. Third period found me in U.S. History, a subject I dearly loved, with Miss M. Hulbert. Then came the luncheon break. Period four was physical education, under E. V. Howell. Period five in English brought Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar with Mrs. Jessie Hutchinson. Sixth period I elected music. I found my way to the room where Mrs. Matilda W. Cahoon presided.
This challenge of choices continued throughout high school and the university years following. The same process of consultation with parents and fellow students, prayer, study, and working it out in my own mind, produced the selections. In later years it was a great blessing to have elected in the ninth grade to study geometry, under Miss Snyder, and especially Ancient History under an excellent teacher, Miss Welthea M. Learned. I learned much of the history of the classical Middle East, Greece, and Rome and became acquainted with architectural and art forms that have enriched my life.
The decision to go on a mission had been made long before the call was received. Prayerful effort and study had helped me to qualify. That decision, blessed with the support of my parents and family, has brought the greatest blessings and some of the greatest experiences of my life.
A big decision following my mission was a career. What should I do? A new position opened with the Union Pacific Railroad Company as a passenger representative. After two months, other choices confronted me. An opportunity came to return to ZCMI in its finance division, plus part-time work as an early morning seminary teacher serving Salt Lake East High School; or to work as a mathematics teacher in Tucson, Arizona, High School, or as director of music at the Box Elder High School in Brigham City. I made it a matter of study and prayer. On an eventful afternoon I walked over to Temple Square during my lunch hour for a special, quiet prayer. The decision followed. The formula—prayer, study, work, consultation with parents and trusted friends—produced results.
The decision for graduate school came next. Harvard? The University of Chicago? London School of Economics? University of California at Berkeley? UCLA? I wrote to them all and was guided in the final decision by financial considerations and some sound counsel from a revered loved one. UCLA at that time had all of the advantages of the great prestige of the University of California, plus a new vital campus with extraordinarily high standards. I applied and was admitted and during the next three years was blessed with a loving wife, two children, part-time work, fellowships and assistantships, and a PhD.
So it has gone through life. I have faced decisions of whether or not to return to Utah State University in Logan, Utah, from Swarthmore College in Pennsylvania; accept an overseas appointment in Greece and Turkey; become the cultural attaché at the embassy in India; or serve in several university presidencies. In each case I was guided by the careful process indicated. These occupational choices often represented something expressed in Robert Frost’s poem.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood. …
I took the one …
And that has made all the difference.
(“The Road Not Taken” in The Poetry of Robert Frost, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1969, p. 105)
I have learned that if we follow the guidelines afforded by the gospel, we will always be on solid ground.
You, too, may be guided in your choice of subjects to study, in what you should major in at college, in your choice of occupation, in the choice of friends and your eternal companion. As Elder Ashton wrote in his book, “You can get there from here!”

Everyone needs to be home taught—but at sea? It was a misty Saturday evening. The guided-missile frigate USS William H. Standley was anchored in Golfe-Juan Harbor located between Cannes and Nice, France—a port commonly frequented by U.S. naval ships during their extended Mediterranean deployments.
Aboard the Standley, Navy Chaplain Thomas Pocock was expecting nothing unusual that evening—a little reading; perhaps he’d write a letter or two. Then he heard his name over the ship’s loudspeaker system: “Chaplain Pocock, call the quarterdeck!”
He called immediately and was informed by the messenger-of-the-watch: “There are three sailors from the USS Franklin D. Roosevelt here to see you. Should I escort them to your stateroom?”
Before the chaplain remembered who he knew on the FDR, he opened the door to three Mormon sailors. The leader announced, “We’ve come to home-teach you, Chaplain.”
Then the largest of the three put his arm around the chaplain and said, “We love you, brother.”
During the next three hours all felt the meaning of the scripture, “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
Each visitor recounted his experiences in the Church, in the service, and in his role of sailor-missionary.
Chaplain Pocock knew one of the men. Bill Woodson was an old friend who had been baptized in June of 1970 while stationed at the Naval Air Station Memphis, in Millington, Tennessee.
The other two sailors were almost as new in the Church as Bill. Paul Quiring, the group leader, was baptized in November of 1969 while stationed in Vallejo, California. He had been introduced to the gospel at the Naval Training Center (boot camp) in San Diego.
The third man, Dave Kellogg, was baptized in May of 1970 while stationed at the Naval Station, Key West, Florida. Dave was the second counselor in the LDS group aboard the carrier as well as the priesthood advisor and instructor.
As his friends rose to leave, tears ran down the chaplain’s cheeks. What a thrill to know that three sailor converts, with a total of less than nine years membership in the Church among them, cared enough to deliver a gospel message on the high seas.

In that forum, Elder Hafen told a handcart pioneer story of Sister Marjorie Pay Hinckley’s grandmother Polly, whose refined family left southern England to come to Zion after they had converted to the Church. As a young girl, Polly sacrificed and suffered so much on that trek, losing three siblings and her mother to death on their journey. Polly later wrote about their condition when they finally entered the Salt Lake Valley. She said:

Early next morning . . . Brigham Young . . . came. . . . When he saw our condition—our feet frozen and our mother dead—tears rolled down his cheeks.
The doctor amputated my toes. . . . The sisters were dressing mother [for her grave]. Oh how did we stand it? . . .
. . . I thought of [my mother’s] words [before we left England], “Polly, I want to go to Zion while my children are small, so they can be raised in the Gospel of Christ. For I know this is the true Church.”13

This family as well as many other families came from cultured cities of Europe. They welcomed a religion that prioritized education and schools along with spiritual knowledge.

One of the best ways to make friends is to invite them over, right? That’s what the Montreal Ward of the Montreal Mount Royal Quebec Stake did. Their new chapel created so much interest in the surrounding neighborhood of La Salle that ward leaders decided to open it up for tours.
And when they did, the youth of this English-speaking ward played a major role. The Latter-day Saint teens were ushers, served refreshments, directed parking, and greeted guests at the door.
“It was a good experience because it gave other people in the community an opportunity to know more about us, what we believe, and what we do,” explains Melissa Poirier, 15. More than 300 non–Latter-day Saints toured the building.

When Tomás got home from school, everyone seemed busy.
“Shut the door,” Diego said when Tomás came in their room. “I can’t do my homework with so much noise!”
Tomás went into the living room. His younger sisters both wanted the same toy at the same time. “Give it to me!” Luiza said, trying to grab a doll away from Stella. “I had it first!”
Tomás went into the kitchen. Mom was holding the baby in one arm while she stirred the soup. “Dad is going to be late tonight. Will you set the table for me?” she asked.
When everyone had finished eating, Dad came home. He looked tired.
What can I do to help everyone be happier? Tomás wondered. Then he remembered what day it was—Monday! Family home evening would make things better!
But when he mentioned family home evening to Mom, she sighed. “I don’t know if we have time for it tonight,” she said.
Tomás thought about how the prophets said that family home evening was very important and that it would bless their lives.
“But, Mom,” Tomás said, “we really need family night!”
Mom thought for a minute. “You know what? I think you’re right,” she said. “Let’s clean up so we can get started.”
At the end of family home evening, Tomás knelt to pray with his family. He felt good inside. His brother still had a project due, his mom was still busy, and his dad was still tired. But everyone seemed a little happier, and his home felt more peaceful.
Tomás smiled. Following the prophets always made things better.

In January 2004 our family suffered the tragic loss of our grandson Nathan in an airplane crash. Nathan had served in the Russian-speaking Baltic Mission. He loved the people and knew it was a privilege to serve the Lord. Three months after I officiated at his eternal marriage to his sweetheart, Jennifer, this accident took his life. Nathan’s being taken so suddenly from our mortal presence has turned each of our hearts and minds to the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. While it is impossible for me to put into words the full meaning of the Atonement of Christ, I pray that I can explain what His Atonement means to me and our family and what it might also mean to you and yours.
The Savior’s precious birth, life, Atonement in the Garden of Gethsemane, suffering on the cross, burial in Joseph’s tomb, and glorious Resurrection all became a renewed reality for us. The Savior’s Resurrection assures all of us that someday we too will follow Him and experience our own resurrection. What peace, what comfort this great gift is which comes through the loving grace of Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer of all mankind. Because of Him we know we can be with Nathan again.
When I think of my grandson Nathan and how precious he is to us, I can see and feel more clearly how our Heavenly Father must feel about all of His children. We do not want God to weep because we did not do all we could to share with His children the revealed truths of the gospel. I pray that you will seek to know the blessings of the Atonement and that you will strive to be worthy to serve the Lord in the mission field. It was Jesus who said, “If … you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!” (D&C 18:15; emphasis added). Not only that, but great shall be the Lord’s joy in the soul that repenteth! For precious unto Him is the one.
Never, never underestimate how precious is the one. Remember always the simple admonition of the Lord: “If ye love me, keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Always strive to live worthy of the sacred full blessings of the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. In our sorrow over the separation from our dear Nathan has come the peace that only the Savior and Redeemer can give. Our family has turned to Him, one by one; and we now sing with greater appreciation and understanding:
Oh, it is wonderful that he should care for me
Enough to die for me!
Oh, it is wonderful, wonderful to me!
(“I Stand All Amazed,” Hymns, no. 193.)
May you give to others and receive for yourselves every blessing the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ offers.

Lee W. Johnson, who was at the time Cubmaster of Pack 218, rescued his brother from underneath a fallen haystack. “My brother was covered by a haystack four feet deep and about 20 feet square. Where do you dig? In my mind a voice said, ‘Over here.’ I dug to within six inches of my unconscious brother, and the voice said, ‘Throw the pitch fork away.’ And there he was. You have to give somebody besides myself credit for something like that.” Brother Johnson is in the Benson Ward, Benson Utah Stake.
Brent advised hikers to always travel with a partner and not to take shortcuts. “Stay on the trail or you’ll get in trouble,” he said. Daniel warned swimmers to know the water they’re swimming in and not to swim in conditions beyond their capability. Kristin advised everyone to learn how to swim and to become familiar with lifesaving techniques. Brother Crockett advised those who find themselves in an emergency to do something, rather than just watch, which complemented Brother Johnson’s advice to “be quick and alert, but think things out before you act. Keep calm and don’t panic. Move as quickly as possible and listen for guidance from the Lord.” Mike Poppleton said Scouts should pay attention during classes on lifesaving techniques so that when an emergency does arise, they’ll be able to think of what to do. And the entire group agreed that proper training is vital and that people should be careful about what they do if they have had no training.
But perhaps it was Brother Johnson who summed up the most common sentiment: “It was a spiritual experience,” he said, “but I wouldn’t want another one of this kind.”

When I was an undergraduate student at BYU, I had a number of great opportunities to choose from. All were excellent, worthy options, but I felt a lot of pressure to make the “right” choice. I worried that if I didn’t choose correctly, I would “mess up” God’s plan for me. After weeks of feeling unsettled and confused, I devoted a Sunday to fasting and prayer. Still unsure, I called my brother that night and asked him to give me a priesthood blessing. In that blessing, I was given very specific instructions as to what the Lord wanted me to do. This clarity brought me great relief, and I happily trusted and obeyed.

About a year and a half later, I had just graduated with my bachelor’s degree and was beginning a graduate program in dance. During the first few days of the semester, I suddenly got cold feet. I was worried that what I was doing was self-indulgent and impractical. I already had one degree that didn’t have immediate job prospects, and now I was going for another! I visited an advisement office and learned that I could enroll in a postgraduate course of study to get licensure to teach English in secondary education in just one year. This sounded like a more practical choice because it was shorter and had more obvious job prospects.

Once again, I sought a priesthood blessing to help me decide what to do. I was confident that Heavenly Father would once again instruct me on which choice He wanted me to make. However, this blessing went very differently than the previous one. This time I was not told what He wanted me to do. Rather, I was advised that I should choose the one that I felt would make me happiest. This answer came as a big surprise to me, and I actually wasn’t too excited with the counsel because it put the responsibility of choosing back on me. In my disappointment, I also interpreted it to mean that my schooling and future employment didn’t matter to the Lord.

In the years that have passed, I have realized how wrong my reaction was. I was actually given a gift of love and trust that day by a loving parent who wanted me to grow. First, I was given permission to choose what I thought would make me happy without any financial strings attached. Deep down I knew what I wanted to do, but I hesitated to give myself permission to follow my heart. I now see that my Heavenly Father knew me well enough to know what I would choose and that that choice would lead me to this wonderful career. But He wanted me to learn to trust myself and to take ownership of this big decision. It was as if He was saying, “I know what you want, and it’s a good thing. I trust you. Now trust yourself.”

The last time I saw my little sister, Lorraine, was in a sound-proof hospital room that smelled of sweet soap. She lay in a huge metal bed with sterile white sheets, surrounded by tanks and tubes and oxygen equipment. The doctors confirmed what she herself knew:
“Mommy,” she said in her calm, sweet voice, “mommy, I’m going to die.” She asked us to pray for her—we who had forgotten how to pray.
The night before she died, I sat at her bedside while mom and dad got a few hours of much-needed rest. She was in a coma, and I held her delicate hand in mine under the oxygen tent, trying to make her live through my own will-power. My throat ached as I thought about how little I really knew her. Ten years separated us—ten years and my own personal apartment and exciting career.
After a few minutes, I heard someone enter the dimmed hospital room. I looked up to see a man, slightly balding, with soft eyes and a kindly smile.
“Hello,” he said in a gentle voice. “I’m Brother Hughes, your home teacher. I—just found out.”
“Brother?” I wondered silently. “Oh … a Mormon.”
Home teachers were those men who always came in dark suits and who were very nice and chatted for a while and then politely left. Or were those missionaries? We were inactive and in fact had avoided contact with the Church during the two years we had lived in this city. I wondered how he had found us.
“How is she?” he asked. He was smiling a soft, wise smile, the kind that comes mostly from the eyes. I knew he did not feel more righteous than we were, and I felt he was not there just out of curiosity. Somehow I could feel that he really cared.
For some reason, my first reaction was to try to impress him by delivering a detailed clinical description of the many complications that had led to the hopeless prognosis the doctors had given. But instead, only a strange groan escaped my lips, and the tears began to fall unrestrainedly.
I don’t really remember everything Brother Hughes said to me that night, except that when he left I knew Lorraine would be alive somewhere, and that this pitiful little body with the thin, golden hair was only the shell that had housed her for a time. Not that he actually came out and said it, but somewhere in the back of my mind I could see her running and stretching out her arms to a loving being who held her just like dad had done.
Lorraine left us. But Brother Hughes came again and again.
A year later, in the temple, we shed tears as the Spirit bore witness to us that Lorraine was with us as we were sealed together as a family. And a few days afterward, I was married in the temple.
I often think about Lorraine, and when I do, I remember that wonderful home teacher who taught us once again to pray, who showed us again the one true way where tragedy is supplanted by eternal hope.