Gospel Story Finder

I remember an experience when I was the General Manager of a multinational armoring company. My secretary came in to my office one morning and told me that a client was in our plant floor and that my sales directors and sales managers were all out. Nobody could entertain the client so could I please go out and talk to him, she asked. I agreed then went out to our plant floor. When I looked around, there was only one person there besides our manufacturing personnel. He was very stout, unkempt and unshaven. He was wearing slippers, worn out khaki shorts and his T-shirt with a fading print had a tear on the left shoulder. I assumed that the client had gone back to his car and had left his driver. Nevertheless, I walked over to him, smiled, said good morning cheerfully, shook his hand and introduced myself. Then I gave him my best sales pitch. This turned out to be providential for I learned 30 minutes later that he was the client and was one of the wealthiest men in the nearby province of Pampanga. He owned the only telecommunications company there and had several schools and businesses. He had even run for mayor in one of the towns. He eventually bought several of our armored vehicles which cost about P5 million each. I sometimes wondered what would have happened had I treated him poorly like he didn't matter. Do we treat each other as the sons and daughters of God that we are?

Florence Chukwurah has a special understanding for children from poor backgrounds—especially those who feel shy because of poverty or lack of education. Visiting the branches of the Ghana Accra Mission as the mission president’s wife, Sister Chukwurah carried a special message to such young people. “We were visiting a small branch,” Sister Chukwurah recalls. Many of the young people could not read, and many were not coming to church. “The Spirit said, ‘Tell them the story of your life.’ So I told them that I grew up in similar circumstances. I told them that I was able to overcome my shyness by studying and by obeying my parents and teachers.”

Many years ago, I learned that one of the roles of the Holy Ghost is to literally add light to our being. At the time, our family lived in England. While there, the branch we were attending received permission to build a new chapel. While we were pouring the foundation, I noticed a man across the street come out of his home, sit on his brick wall and watch us. He did that for three or four days and then came across the street and inquired as to what we were building. We told him: "A chapel!" He asked if we needed help. We did and he joined us. The first day I saw him, his face was a pallid gray and smoke from cigarettes had cast a film on his skin and eyes. It was not long before he invited the missionaries into his home and he joined the Church.

Eighteen months later the building was complete and we gathered for the dedication. It was a sacrament meeting and he was a priest at the sacrament table. As I looked at him, I noticed a ruddiness in his complexion that had not been there the first time I met him and his face glowed. He was a different person. The Holy Spirit had entered his being and the light within shone in his countenance. The experience taught me that the body is a receptacle of light, that it has the capacity to hold light and truth.

With the encouragement of Sharon Hintze, FamilySearch specialist in London, Midland Ancestors invited volunteer missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to give a presentation to their staff about FamilySearch. Midland Ancestors is a three-county genealogical organisation in Birmingham.
Phil Lamb, chairman of Midland Ancestors, wanted staff to be knowledgeable about the different features of FamilySearch so they could better help their patrons.
Elder Dan Hull and Sister Martha Hull volunteered their time teaching two-hour classes on Saturdays in February and completed an additional six hours of instruction in March. The classes were so well-received that several requests were made to present to the subchapters of Midland Ancestors. The Hulls recently gave a presentation on FamilySearch in Wolverhampton.
Phil Lamb expressed his gratitude for the classes. He said, “Our library volunteers will now be so much more confident when they have visitors to our facility in Birmingham. We will now be able to all make better use of the website which adds so much to what we offer in our family history centre.”

One of the ways we sought to help BYU become greater in the Lord’s way can be demonstrated by the many small miracles that surrounded the beginning of the Gordon B. Hinckley Alumni and Visitors Center on campus.

I was on this beautiful campus with some regularity even before I received the assignment to come full-time. After arriving and visiting with students, staff, and faculty, as well as with many of our loyal supporters and financial donors, it became apparent that even with such wonderful facilities as were then available, there was one special thing we felt we lacked: a single place that would allow our BYU campus family to gather together with alumni, friends, and distinguished visitors and that would also be a place where they could learn and understand so much of what makes BYU unique. We wanted that space to include a clear description of our dependence on, relationship with, and support of our prophets and Church leaders; the history of the development of our university and the Restoration of the gospel; and, particularly and especially, our key role in helping our students and all who might come here become more loyal, effective, and productive disciples of Jesus Christ.

Early in 2004, I was approached by three of our most loyal and generous supporters—Jack Wheatley, King Husein, and Ira Fulton. They shared great enthusiasm for the notion of a new building, and they then offered to raise all of the money for the project so that there would be no request for Church funds to accomplish this great task. They had one condition, however, and that was that the building must be named for the prophet at that time, Gordon B. Hinckley.

I felt joy at their proposal but also great trepidation because I knew that there was a firm policy to not name facilities for living Church leaders. After many prayers and a few sleepless nights, I raised the matter with President Henry B. Eyring, who was then commissioner of the Church Educational System. He listened carefully and seemed supportive but suggested that if I were to present the idea to the board of trustees at that point, it might be embarrassing to President Hinckley and uncomfortable for everyone else.

He did suggest that I quietly arrange a visit with President Hinckley’s counselors, President Thomas S. Monson and President James E. Faust, to seek their guidance. I was soon able to meet together with President Monson and President Faust. They listened, but they gently said that if we were to really be committed to the project, I needed to see President Hinckley privately and present the matter to him. I asked if they would be there with me, and they smiled and said no.

I was able to schedule an appointment with President Hinckley shortly thereafter. I sensed he had been briefed on our plan, but this was not acknowledged. I explained the project—including the proposal and conditions of Brothers Wheatley, Husein, and Fulton and our desire to not ask for Church funds. With great reluctance and many more questions, President Hinckley said we could present the matter to the board of trustees and see if they would approve it. Of course the board’s approval was unanimous and enthusiastic, and we went ahead with the many details of planning, research, and preparation.

Interestingly, when word of approval became public, there was great excitement, with many wanting to contribute. While the major donors were true to their commitments, more than 70,000 individuals also donated to the project—including thousands of students and alumni.

With the blessings of heaven and the very hard work of many, we were able to break ground for the building on June 23, 2006: President Hinckley’s 96th birthday. Just shortly thereafter—one year later—on June 23, 2007 (President Hinckley’s 97th birthday), the building was dedicated. I don’t have enough fingers and toes to count the many miraculous circumstances that made this beautiful addition to our campus possible.

The people who live in the house are Don and Clara Goudy and their seven children—four boys and three girls.
Until recently the Goudys had lived in the East Millcreek 14th Ward of the Salt Lake Mt. Olympus Stake. And as one neighbor, Doris Peterson, said: “They fit right in, and felt at home, and were very loved.”
The people in the ward describe Clara as one of the “bravest, strongest women, we know.” “She has been so diligent in spiritual things.” “A fantastic person.” “We all loved her.”
They remember Don when he first came into the ward. He was a “vital young man, a hard and willing worker.”
Then the ravages of disease began to take their toll on Don and, suddenly, Don and Clara had some hard things to face and some difficult decisions to make.
Don could no longer work hard to provide for those he loved. He became progressively worse, and at length he couldn’t work at all. Don and Clara decided to take their family back to Santaquin where they had been raised. There Clara’s mother had a piece of land on which a home could be built. It seemed the right place to assume the heavier load that was coming to her. And she could be near her 78-year-old mother.
In the hearts of far-sighted Aaronic Priesthood MIA leaders and a wise bishop was the knowledge that in service young people grow. Ideas for service were constantly being discussed. Young men and women were continually involved in the discussions.
Then three young men—candidates for the Eagle Scout Progress Award—had an idea. Could they take a lawn down to the Goudy’s new home? They knew Brother Goudy couldn’t put it in, and maybe Sister Goudy could use their help.
John Benson, the Aaronic Priesthood MIA young men’s president, encouraged the boys.
When first approached, Clara was a little reluctant. She and Don had always taken care of themselves and their own. What they had, they had shared. It had been enough.
But now the prospects for immediate landscaping were slim. Clara thought about that, but mostly she thought about the teachings of the gospel. “Yes,” she thought, “this is the gospel at work.” And then she told them they could come.
So Brother Benson and the three boys, Ted Bullen, Robert Purcell, and Gary Buehner, went down to Santaquin to see their friends, to plan out a yard, and to see what the project would cost.
It was decided that Gary would take care of fencing the property. Ted would see that the lawn was planted, and Robert volunteered to do the shrubbery, trees, and planting of flowers.
They measured the yard. They also had Sister Goudy’s desires in mind. Next they each went to experts to get some first-class help in planning the landscaping.
With the plans completed they proceeded to line up help and materials. Each boy organized his own project and work crew. As they worked the enthusiasm and support mounted.
Others in the ward wanted to help. They donated funds. They dug up shrubs and trees, taking them from their own yards. They went to the state capitol and were given some flats of flowers that were surplus.
As the project grew Bishop Lewis Farr counseled his people to work with the young people on this project as fathers and mothers would work with their own sons and daughters, assisting not only with money but also with physical labor on the planting day.
As Bob Purcell put it: “We had made our plans in detail, and it didn’t take too long when we got down there.”
Most of the materials and hand tools came with them from Salt Lake City, but several yards of top soil were needed. Contact was made with the bishop of the Santaquin Ward, and he saw to it that the top soil was delivered the night before. The Santaquin people also provided a tractor.
Brother Benson and the three boys went down early on the day of the project. He had grown up on a farm and knew how to handle the tractor. So with the boys directing, he spread the top soil, and by 7:30 A.M. they were ready for the work group. Between 50 and 60 people—youths and their parents and leaders—came down to help. A little later in the morning five or six people from the Santaquin Ward brought over their power tools and joined in.
Under Bob’s direction they dug holes and planted the shrubs and the trees. They planted the flowers, and the girls built a little stone path through the grass and edged the flower planting area with rocks Clara had been saving.
Gary and his crew dug post holes and cemented the poles in place for the chain link fence. They also prepared the framework, put up the cedar fence, and stained it.
At the same time Ted and his crews were rolling and planting the lawn, others were covering it with peat moss and wetting it down.
Then suddenly they were through. They had finished everything on their blueprints, and there was an entire yard growing.
As Alice Buehner, Aaronic Priesthood MIA young woman’s president, reported: “Not a whole day and it was accomplished. We just stood around and gazed at it.”
Then Don Goudy, who is now almost bedfast, came out of the house and walked out onto the porch. It was a tender moment as he looked around at what his friends had done for him. He said simply, “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
As Sister Buehner said: “It made me want to cry. I was really deeply moved.”
In addition to helping with the yard, the Wayne Ottleys who live in the ward went into the house and draped it.
Brother Benson summed it up this way: “By 3:00 there was a new yard. It was really an enjoyable day. And very exciting.”
Because of the spirit that was there that day, young and old felt a new commitment to service, and the spirit was catching. Since then the Santaquin Ward itself has turned out to put in lawns for two other families in need within their little town.
On the way back to Salt Lake City the workers stopped for a swim, but nobody seems to recall that. When you ask the young people about the experience, this is what they say:
Susan Horman: “When we left it looked really special. Flowers everywhere and trees … it was a good feeling.”
Steve Farr: “At first I didn’t think it would be so neat to just waste a day down there, but when we finally finished, it was really neat. It sure looked good.”
Karen Horman: “It was fun. I would gladly do another project like that. They were really happy we came, and they were really sorry when we had to leave.”
Sister Buehner evaluates: “Our young people felt very responsible. It was a real growing experience.”
The three boys who planned the whole project and directed its execution were most explicit.
Gary summed it all up this way: “It turned out pretty fun. I’d probably do it again. We knew that they needed the help.”
Ted declared: “The Goudys are some of my best friends. I’ve talked to them several times since. They said how great it was and how thankful they were. It was a testimony builder to work on something like that. It wasn’t just completing an Eagle project, but it was helping someone and feeling good about that.”
Bob reported: “I enjoyed it. I enjoy helping others. I guess that’s what it’s all about really, both Scouts and the Church. It was worth it. I know that much.”
“This was a spiritual experience for our young people,” Brother Benson declared. “In my estimation the only types of experiences that don’t get old are spiritual experiences. Our young people tasted of that at the Goudys, and they are anxious to have that renewed.”
But for the young people Bob summed it up best: “I’m just glad that we did it.”

Those who serve as stake presidents do not seek the office they hold. All are humbled and some are overwhelmed when they are called. As I called a stake president in Europe who had been a member of the Church only about 10 years, he gasped, “Oh no, no, not me. I cannot do it.” Fortunately, his wonderful wife, who was at his side, put her arms around him and said, “Honey, you can do it. I know you can.” She was right, and he served very well.

I was still sitting on the porch thinking when Katie and Shauna came running around the house. “Come and play catch with us,” they called.
We threw the ball back and forth to each other, and then Katie threw one that was too high for me. Running backward to catch it, I slipped and fell on my backside in a clump of Mom’s blue irises. Mom came out of the shed just then with a pair of clippers to cut a bouquet. I looked at the smashed flowers and was just starting to speak, when something inside of me seemed to say, “No, Janna Lynn, you’re not going to say Katie made you do it.”
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I said. “I ran backward and fell.”
“Yes, I know. I saw you,” she replied.
“And you’re not mad at me?”
“Of course not.”
The way she laughed, I almost felt good about sitting on her flowers.
“Just look at all those irises that you didn’t sit on,” she said. “A daughter who tells the truth is more important than a whole yard full of flowers!”
Goodness! That must have been the Holy Ghost prompting me to the the truth, I thought. And He’s helping me to learn what a great feeling you have when you know you’ve done the right thing. I could hardly wait to tell Cindy.

Black clouds piled up in the west as I fastened my seat belt and Mom started the car. My mood was as dark as those clouds. Why did Mom always tell people I would play a musical number on the piano whenever anyone asked me? I was only 12, but I was often asked to play for church programs and in other wards. Bishop Bowen had asked me to play a musical number in his ward’s sacrament meeting this evening. We used to live in his ward.
“Why do I have to play?” I asked Mom. “I like to practice at home, but I don’t like to play in public. Some of my friends will be there and they’ll make fun of me. They all know I play the piano and they tease me about it.”
“You have a special gift for music, Kent,” Mom said. “You need to share your talent.”
I dug my hands deeper into my pockets and didn’t say anything else.
When we got to the church, Mom parked the car. The wind was blowing hard as we hurried into the building.
Sitting in the chapel, I flattened my hands over my shaky knees to quiet them. Mom patted my shoulder and smiled at me. I pulled away and swallowed hard.
After the sacrament, Bishop Bowen announced the rest of the meeting. He said who would be the first speaker, and then he said, “We’re so happy to have Kent back with us this evening. He will play a musical number for us.”
A lady sitting behind us leaned forward and patted my shoulder and smiled. “Why do my friends tease me so much, but the adults always like to hear me play?” I wondered.
I heard the wind howling outside. My throat was dry. Too bad I couldn’t get a drink of water. My fingers were stiff so I rubbed them.
The first speaker finished his talk. Ready or not, it was my turn. My stomach churned as I stared at the keys. I felt like striking them with all my strength. Too bad I wasn’t playing my favorite song, “The Storm.” A storm raged inside me as well as outside.
A minute passed as I sat there trying to compose myself, but it felt like an eternity. Finally, I raised my hands and let them fall gently on the keys. The soft chords dropped from my fingertips and quieted the storm inside me. I pictured a bright moon in the sky making a stream of light on ripples across a lake. My fingers rippled over the keys like the moonlight over the water. I felt like I was playing at home. I loved every minute of it.
When I finished, I slipped into the pew beside Mom. She put her arm around my shoulders, and I heard rain spattering against the windows. A sudden flash of lightning jarred the quiet congregation.
The second speaker stood up to give his talk, but I could only hear the rumbling thunder and the pounding rain outside. A sudden blinding flash seemed to almost come right into the building, followed by a loud crash. All the lights went out in the chapel! The speaker continued his talk even though it was hard to hear him without the microphone. Babies cried. Kids wiggled. Everybody was whispering.
When the speaker finished, Bishop Bowen stood up and spoke loudly. “Our meeting is finished except for the closing prayer. But we surely can’t go out into this storm. Kent, will you please play your musical number again?”
I was shocked. How could I quiet all that confusion and fear? I felt my way to the piano bench in the darkness and found middle C. Then I knew I would be all right. I had never felt such peace as the memorized notes blended into each other. The nervous confusion in the chapel stopped and everyone seemed to be concentrating on the music.
The congregation was silent as the last tones died away. The storm outside had calmed down. Someone offered the closing prayer, and then everyone began to leave, finding their way carefully in the dark. Some of my friends were waiting for me in the foyer.
“Hey, Kent, how did you do that? Your music took away the scare,” one said.
“I wish I could play like that,” said another.
No one made fun of me. What a relief! A woman touched my elbow and said, “Tonight you used music for a great purpose. You gave us calmness over panic. I’ve never felt more uplifted and I couldn’t hold back the tears. Please don’t ever stop playing.”

In Primary we have goals, such as helping in the community and sharing the gospel with others. One day we promised that we would help the elderly. I went to some neighbors’ house and began to weed their flower garden. They came out and asked why I was doing this. I explained about our goals, but they are not members of the Church and told me that I didn’t have to help them. I explained that I belong to the true Church and need to keep my promises. They understood some of the things I told them. I learned that other people need to know about the gospel so they’ll know it is good to help one another.
Tahiry Carrillo Díaz, age 10San José, Costa Rica

Later, when I was offered work at a television station, I worried about temptations associated with the entertainment industry. But the answer to my prayers was, “Accept the job and show you can be an artist without compromising your standards.”
I have worked as a television artistic production assistant, as an assistant choral director for the Symphonic Choir of Guayaquil, and on the board of the Ecuadoran House of Culture for the province of Guayas.
I testify that it is possible to fulfill our dreams without sacrificing our principles. Today my name is recognized in my country and in my profession—thanks to my commitment to live the gospel and develop the gifts Heavenly Father has given me.

When I was 30, my friend asked me some questions that changed my life. He asked, “If you had all the money in the world, what would you do?” I gave some simple answers, like buy a house, look after my family, be self-reliant, etc.
Then he dug deeper and asked, “What if you had all those things and all the money in the world, then what would you do?” That’s when I realized that regardless of my marital status, I had a lot to give to the world. I thought about the things I could learn and share and the difference and impact I could make.

One warm evening during the past summer months Sister Ashton and I enjoyed a professional baseball game. During the early part of the competition our attention was diverted from the action by a late arriver. As he walked by, he spotted me and asked, “Who’s losing?” I responded with, “Neither one.” Following my answer, I noticed that he glanced at the right-field scoreboard, saw the game wasn’t tied, and walked on, undoubtedly wondering about me.
Seconds after he made his way to a distant seat, Sister Ashton said, “He doesn’t know you very well, does he?” “What makes you say that?” I replied. She responded with, “If he did, he would know you don’t believe anyone is losing. Some are ahead and some are behind, but no one is losing. Isn’t that right?” I smiled in approval with a warm feeling inside.

Claudia Laur, a Mia Maid in the Munich Third Ward, Munich Germany Stake, realized there were many activities in the ward for the young ladies but not many for the elderly sisters. Because she felt that particularly those who lived alone might not be benefiting from the same warmth of fellowship, she gathered the Mia Maids and Beehives together and planned an afternoon for the older sisters in the ward. The Merrie Miss Primary class was also invited to participate.
At a planning meeting, a program was outlined, including a difficult-to-learn round dance, a medley of favorite songs from the 50s, self-composed sketches and pantomimes, question-and-answer games in which the older sisters would participate, comedy, hymns (to add a spiritual side to the activity), and of course, refreshments.
Soon they had polished their routines, choreographed their steps, rehearsed their lines, and prepared their props. On the day of the gathering, decorations transformed the cultural hall into a cozy “Café in the Woods,” a comfortable setting for the older ladies to relax in while they enjoyed the show.
“We had a delightful afternoon,” one of the invited guests said. “They welcomed us warmly and escorted us to our tables, which were decorated with flowers and a nice little personal card. Their happy program put us in a joyful mood. We couldn’t help but feel that they served with love. It helped us to feel the unity that can come to sisters in the Church.”
Beehive Andrea Klein agreed: “It was really nice to see the older sisters so happy about such little things. The preparation and practices took a lot of time and required patience and effort, but it was well worth it.”

I spoke with a young man recently who was a freshman at a large university, (actually it was BYU-Provo.) Having come from a very small high school of less than 200, he was overwhelmed by the number of students. Everywhere he looked there were people, faces with no names. He was one of them. One Saturday night, however, he got up the courage to go to a dance. He was separated from his roommate and the others he had gotten to know and for 45 minutes he walked around by himself. No one stopped, no one looked, no one noticed this young man. I think there were probably hundreds, maybe thousands there that night facing the same plight. Desperately alone, he closed his eyes and prayed to one he knew was there, his Father in Heaven. He prayed for help. . " Help me not be alone." And then he turned to walk back toward the celebration. But he felt prompted to take another sidewalk. The Lord was at work prompting others onto that same sidewalk and sure enough, the young man ran into a group of students and one called out his name, someone from his home ward who had moved several years before. Someone who knew his name, drew him in. That's what we must do for one another.

I remember visiting a friend in southern India. This man worked as an accountant in a cement plant. His salary was meager. His house was small; it would fit into the front room of many homes. But his heart was large and overflowing. Out of a great love for others that came from his understanding of the gospel of Jesus Christ, he built a school with his own hands on a piece of ground he bought from his savings. It was a simple, rough building; but studying there were some 400 poor children, each being brought out of the darkness of illiteracy into the light of learning. What this act of love has meant and will mean in their lives is beyond calculation.
Through this one man’s efforts, there were established five small branches of the Church in the rural villages of southern India. The members constructed three or four little buildings, neat and clean. Over the door of each was a sign, in both English and Tamil, that read, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” The floors were of concrete and without benches where the people sat together as we met, shared our testimonies, and partook of the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper.
Someday, someone will write the story of the Church in India. That story will be incomplete unless there is a chapter on my friend who lost himself in the service of others.2

In the 1950s my mother survived radical cancer surgery, which was followed by dozens of painful radiation treatments. She recalls that her mother taught her something during that time that has helped her ever since:
“I was so sick and weak, and I said to her one day, ‘Oh, Mother, I can’t stand having 16 more of those treatments.’
“She said, ‘Can you go today?’
“‘Yes.’
“‘Well, honey, that’s all you have to do today.’
“It has helped me many times when I remember to take one day or one thing at a time.”

I was recently in Vladivostok, on the east coast of Russia. As I sat on the stand at the beginning of a youth and adult fireside, I noticed a young man in the second row immersed in a Duty to God guidebook for priests. I was thrilled and thought to myself: “Marvelous! Seventeen time zones away from Salt Lake City, and Duty to God is alive and well.” When I rose to speak, I asked him what his name was.
“Gere,” was the reply.
“How old are you?”
“Seventeen.”
I then moved to my real inquiry: “I noticed that you have been reading a book. What book have you been reading?”
Quickly came the reply: “I don’t know!”
“Well, where did you get it?”
“Out in the hall just before the meeting!” was his reply.
Immediately, as Gere spoke, Dimitri, a young man on the front row, jumped up, left the room, quickly returned with his own copy, and began to read. They were so ready for opportunities to grow.

On the way home from church, Anna remembered the little slip of paper her teacher had given her. “Mom, guess what! I’m giving a talk in Primary next Sunday.”
“That’s great,” Mom said. “On what?”
“I have to talk about the Restoration. But I’m not sure what that is.”
“Restoration means that God brought back, or restored, everything He wants His Church to have,” Mom said. “Through the Prophet Joseph Smith, He brought back temples, the priesthood, baptism, and the gift of the Holy Ghost. Without the Restoration, we wouldn’t have the Church!”
Anna nodded. “I guess that makes sense. But I don’t think I can explain it like you did.”
“Hey, I have an idea,” Mom said as they got home. “Come with me.”
Anna followed Mom to the family room. They had started a puzzle last night, and the pieces were still spread out on a small table.
“Think of the gospel like a puzzle.” Mom picked up a piece. “Many pieces of the picture were on the earth at different times. But after Jesus and the Apostles died, many gospel truths were lost or changed. Those pieces of truth needed to be brought back.”
“So then what happened?” Anna shuffled some of the loose pieces.
“Many years later God called a young farm boy to bring the pieces back and put them together like when Jesus was on the earth. Who do you think that was?”
“Joseph Smith!” Anna said, smiling. “I think I’m starting to get it.” She and Mom talked more about Joseph Smith and the different pieces of the gospel that God brought back through him.
The rest of the week, Anna wrote and practiced her talk. She prayed to Heavenly Father that she could be brave and share her message in Primary.
On Sunday, when it was time for Anna’s talk, she stood up, took a deep breath, and held up a puzzle on a board so everyone could see. All the pieces were together in the puzzle.
“A long time ago, many of the important pieces of the gospel were on the earth. When Jesus and His Apostles died, some pieces got lost.” Anna took some pieces out of the puzzle and set them down. “Then Heavenly Father and Jesus called Joseph Smith as a prophet to bring back the missing pieces of the gospel. This is called the Restoration.” She picked up a puzzle piece to show the Primary. On the back were the words “Priesthood power.”
Then Anna showed the rest of the pieces. She read the back of each piece before she put it in its spot in the puzzle. “A living prophet … twelve Apostles … temple work for eternal families … baptism by immersion … laying on of hands for the gift of the Holy Ghost.”
Anna showed the finished puzzle. “Now we have all the pieces of the gospel. That means we can see the big picture of how we can be happy and live with Heavenly Father again someday. I am grateful for the Restoration. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”

Illustration by Bradley H. Clark
I was a girl when I first saw my mother’s wedding dress. It was carefully wrapped inside a box, and I remember my mother unwrapping it tenderly so I could see it. How beautiful it was! I so much wanted to wear that dress when the day of my marriage arrived.
My mother gently put it back and promised to lend it to me in the future. She said the dress had been a special gift from my father. She looked so in love and beautiful in her wedding photographs. My parents, not members of the Church, were wonderful people.
I learned about the Church when I met the man who would become my husband. That meeting was unusual because, though he was not active in the Church, our meeting led to the story of the First Vision. I found the story amazing, but I was not ready to accept it.
After we had dated for 16 months, my dreams came true when I put on my mother’s wedding dress with its long tail and walked down the aisle toward my fiancé. I also was so in love. Many people said I looked just like my mother when she married.
Years passed, and we had two sons. When my husband tried to return to church, I hindered his efforts. Though I wasn’t active in the church of my youth, I had a hard time accepting another church.
That finally changed after 19 years of marriage. My husband returned to church, and a few weeks later I began to attend with him. My testimony grew rapidly, and I was baptized and confirmed. Soon afterward my greatest desire was to prepare myself to be sealed to my husband in the temple.
When the happy day of our sealing arrived, I wore my mother’s white dress again. A friend from church had adjusted it so it would be proper to wear in the temple. I have worn it there ever since.
By the time my father had passed away and my mother had entered her last days, she still wasn’t ready to accept the restored Church. But I told her many wonderful things about the Restoration. I also told her that when she crossed the veil, she was going to hear the message of the true gospel. I promised her that after a year, I would wear our dress in her behalf so she could vicariously receive temple ordinances and be sealed to my father. And I did.
My dress is old now, and I know that one day I will have to retire it. Until that day comes, I will continue to wear it with love—for my husband, for my mother and father, for family members I have served vicariously in the temple, for the true gospel, for my sacred covenants, and for my Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.