Gospel Story Finder

Following Joseph’s death, the Saints were driven from their homes to become exiles—almost refugees—stripped of almost all they had. But under the leadership of the Lord, and with the testimonies of the Spirit burning deep in their hearts, they crossed the almost trackless plains to a desert place no one else would have—there to do their part in the Lord’s strange act, to set up a kingdom where the principles of his gospel could have place in the lives of men and women until his Church could become strong enough to do its part in his strange act.

Time for scripture study requires a schedule that will be honored. Otherwise, blessings that matter most will be at the mercy of things that matter least. Time for family scripture study may be difficult to establish. Years ago when our children were at home, they attended different grades in several schools. Their daddy had to be at the hospital no later than 7:00 in the morning. In family council we determined that our best time for scripture study was 6:00 A.M. At that hour our little ones were very sleepy but supportive. Occasionally we had to awaken one when a turn came to read. I would be less than honest with you if I conveyed the impression that our family scripture time was a howling success. Occasionally it was more howling than successful. But we did not give up.
Now, a generation later, our children are all married with families of their own. Sister Nelson and I have watched them enjoy family scripture study in their own homes. Their efforts are much more successful than were ours. We shudder to think what might have happened if we had quit trying.

As we pray, the Lord will guide and prepare us to do our part. One summer, while touring Europe with the BYU International Folk Dancers, I learned an important lesson. I was sick and I became discouraged. I wanted to quit and go home. We were in Scotland to perform our show for the members, investigators, and missionaries. We went to the mission home for a prayer. As I entered, I glanced at a stone in the front garden. Chiseled in the stone were the words “What-e’er thou art act well thy part.” That message went like electricity to my heart. I felt that that stone was speaking to me. It changed me. I knew at that instant that I had a part to play not only on that dancing tour but throughout my life and that it was very important to “act well” my part.

The center of St. Petersburg, crisscrossed by canals, is full of palaces, monuments, statues, churches, gardens, and museums. For seminary students from the Obukhovskii Branch, it seemed a perfect place to talk about their love of seminary, their love for the scriptures, and their love for their city.
Julia Shaikhulina reminisces about returning from a trip to the Stockholm (Sweden) Temple. “I wondered how I’d feel coming home, since going to the temple is such a wonderful experience. But it was autumn, and as our bus drove across the city, the trees and the buildings were bathed in a golden light. It made all of the buildings look beautiful. And I said to myself, I know that I love my city. It made me feel like I wanted to share the gospel with everyone.”

My grandparents have had a great influence on my life. Even though they have been dead for many years, I still feel their confirming love. One grandfather, James Akerley Faust, died before I was born. I knew him only through the stories my grandmother and my parents told about him. However, I feel a strong kinship with him because I am in part what he was. Among other things, he was a cowboy, a rancher, and a postmaster in a small town in central Utah. On one occasion Grandfather took a trip in the winter to Idaho, where he met an acquaintance who had fallen on hard times. It was cold, and Grandfather’s friend had no coat. Grandfather took off his coat and gave it to him.

This evening I encourage you young men to begin to unlock the knowledge of who you really are by learning more about your forebears. Alex Haley, the author of the book Roots, said: “In all of us there is a hunger, marrow-deep, to know our heritage—to know who we are and where we have come from. Without this enriching knowledge, there is a hollow yearning. No matter what our attainments in life, there is still a vacuum, an emptiness, and the most disquieting loneliness.” We can have exciting experiences as we learn about our vibrant, dynamic ancestors. They were very real, living people with problems, hopes, and dreams like we have today.
In many ways each of us is the sum total of what our ancestors were. The virtues they had may be our virtues, their strengths our strengths, and in a way their challenges could be our challenges. Some of their traits may be our traits. I noticed a while ago that one of my great-grandsons, a toddler, seemed to have an interesting kind of a walk. My wife said, “He walks just like you do!” Now I wonder from whom I inherited this characteristic.
It is a joy to become acquainted with our forebears who died long ago. Each of us has a fascinating family history. Finding your ancestors can be one of the most interesting puzzles you young men can work on.
Each of us has to begin this work somewhere, and it can be done by young or old. This summer 170 children of the Accra Ghana Lartebiokorshie Stake worked on their four-generation family trees during a two-hour program, with more than 74 completing and displaying their trees.
As President Boyd K. Packer has said, “If you don’t know where to start, start with yourself. If you don’t know what records to get, and how to get them, start with what you have.” You will learn about the phenomenon that is you. It can be more fascinating than any movie you might see or any computer game you might play. You will need to find out who your grandparents and great-grandparents were and what temple work has been done for them. If you don’t know how to get this information, ask people in your ward who do know how.
Ask living members of your family what they know about your extended family. Look at records close at hand, such as family Bibles, to find more details about your forebears. Then you can reach out to other sources such as vital records, church records, census records, and military records. If you have access to a computer, you can put your computer skills to work and log on to the Church’s FamilySearch.org Web site. Family history has become a sophisticated activity where computers provide immense resources for your search. You can easily access a vast collection of family history records using the Internet on your home computer or at your nearest family history center.
Family history centers are now available in 88 countries. They are part of an unequaled record-keeping system that helps preserve the heritage of families all over the world. In the Family History Library in Salt Lake City, patrons are constantly corresponding and submitting information about their family histories. One person wrote, “We are sending you five children in a separate envelope.”
The great work of providing the saving ordinances for our kindred dead is a vital part of the threefold mission of the Church. We do this work for a purpose, which is to redeem our dead ancestors. Temple work is essential for both us and our kindred dead who are waiting for these saving ordinances to be done for them. It is essential because “we without them cannot be made perfect; neither can they without us be made perfect.” They need the saving ordinances, and we need to be sealed to them. For this reason it is important that we trace our family lines so that no one is left out.
Searching for our kindred dead isn’t just a hobby. It is a fundamental responsibility for all members of the Church. We believe that life continues after death and that all will be resurrected. We believe that families may continue in the next life if they have kept the special covenants made in one of the sacred temples under the authority of God. We believe that our deceased ancestors can also be eternally united with their families when we make covenants in their behalf in the temples. Our deceased forebears may accept these covenants, if they choose to do so, in the spirit world.
The great vicarious work for our kindred dead in our temples demonstrates both the justice and the fairness of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The Prophet Joseph Smith explained the terrible dilemma which would face God’s children without temple work for our dead. Said he: “One dies and is buried, having never heard the Gospel of reconciliation; to the other the message of salvation is sent, he hears and embraces it, and is made the heir of eternal life. Shall the one become the partaker of glory and the other be consigned to hopeless perdition? Is there no chance for his escape?” Fortunately our ancestors will have the opportunity to receive and accept the saving ordinances as we identify them and complete these sacred ordinances for them by proxy. We do for them what they cannot do for themselves. It is a very satisfying experience.
In the great vision in the Kirtland Temple, Elijah the prophet appeared to the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery and committed the keys of temple work and the sealing power into Joseph Smith’s hands. This fulfilled Malachi’s prophecy that Elijah would be sent “to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the children to the fathers, lest the whole earth be smitten with a curse.”
So what does this mean? To turn our hearts to our fathers is to search out the names of our deceased ancestors and to perform the saving ordinances in the temple for them. This will forge a continuous chain between us and our forefathers eventually all the way back to Father Adam and Mother Eve.
The heart of an 11-year-old boy was turned to his fathers during a family home evening when the children assembled personal books of remembrance. Young Jeff wanted to accompany his mother to the National Archives. She was afraid he might disturb the other researchers there. But he persisted, and she relented and took him with her. Four hours into their research, he exclaimed, “Mama, I’ve found Grandpa!” Indeed, he had found his great-great-great-grandfather. However, it doesn’t always work that way. In a letter to the Family History Department, someone wrote: “We lost our grandmother. Will you please send us a copy?”
The gospel of Jesus Christ teaches us that the celestial family organization will be “one that is complete,” that is, “an organization linked from father and mother and children of one generation, to the father and mother and children of the next generation, thus expanding and spreading out down to the end of time.”
In tracing our family names, we often find them spelled differently, depending on the source. This was the case of a university student in Provo, Utah, who caught the vision of this linking of generations. He was walking through the library one evening and remembered hearing someone in the Searing family tell about a town in New York State that had been named after an ancestor. So he decided to look up the town. He stumbled across a very old copy of a gazetteer of New York and read about a man named Simon Searing who helped settle Long Island in the mid-1600s. Could Simon be his ancestor? He had to know. He began research in earnest and traced his line back several generations. But still he needed to bridge the gap between the 1800s and the 1600s. Then a miracle occurred. He unexpectedly located a history of a Syring family. The families in the Syring book ended in the same generation he had reached in his own research. Not only was he able to connect many generations, but he also linked himself to the early settler Simon Searing.
Some who are interested in family history try to enhance their own image by linking up with prominent people. In my own experience it has been quite different. I have been fascinated by learning of some of the unknown, ordinary people whose records tell of heroic lives. Arthur R. Bassett once said: “Who among us wants to throw stones at their own ancestors? I, for one, am intrigued by their battles—their victories as well as their defeats. … I am fascinated by what may seem the most commonplace of lives, because I have come to realize the excitement that is concealed in the commonplace.”
It is not likely that you will find any horse thieves in your ancestral line. But if you do, it is important that their temple work be done, because we believe in repentance for the dead also:
“The dead who repent will be redeemed, through obedience to the ordinances of the house of God,
“And after they have paid the penalty of their transgressions, and are washed clean, shall receive a reward according to their works, for they are heirs of salvation.”
The process of finding our ancestors one by one can be challenging but also exciting and rewarding. We often feel spiritual guidance as we go to the sources which identify them. Because this is a very spiritual work, we can expect help from the other side of the veil. We feel a pull from our relatives who are waiting for us to find them so their ordinance work can be done. This is a Christlike service because we are doing something for them that they cannot do for themselves.
Many of you young men have already had a taste of temple work as you have participated in baptisms for the dead. When we go early to the temple, we often see young people dressed in white, ready to take part in this satisfying experience before going to school. You are to be commended for your dedication in performing this vital work. In so doing you have already felt the peace and serenity found within the walls of our temples.
I testify that God is a just God, and He will not give privileges to us and withhold them from our forebears. But we will need to do the baptisms, the endowments, and the sealings for them by proxy here on earth in order for us and them to be linked together for eternity “and have part in the first resurrection.”
I further testify that the Lord directs and inspires President Hinckley as he leads us in this important work. May the peace that comes from faithful discharge of our priesthood duties ever be with us, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I made my way to Church College of Hawaii, a university owned and operated by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Now known as Brigham Young University–Hawaii Campus, CCH is where I found my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and made the pivotal decision to become a member of His church.
CCH is also where my typing skills helped me to earn a bachelor of science degree in business education, with a minor in secretarial sciences. I also picked up a teaching certificate, and for my first job after university, I became the typing teacher.
I taught typing and various business-related subjects at the Church-owned high school in Pesega, Samoa, and then at Kahuku High when I returned to Hawaii a few years later.

It is hazardous in the extreme to count on a situation typical of one I read about some years ago pertaining to a large, ecclesiastically oriented college in the eastern part of America, where every student had to enroll in a class called Religion 101. The professor of that particular class had been there many years and loved the writings and teachings of the Apostle Paul. He loved them with such vigor that that is about all he taught in Religion 101. Consequently, he would tell the class at the beginning of the semester, “I will not give any examinations during the semester except the final. The result of the final examination will determine your grade for the course.”

Now, that would be kind of overwhelming, except that every semester for 21 years he had given the same examination in every class of Religion 101. The examination consisted of one question. And for all those years, the question had been the same. Can you believe it? What a snap class! The question had always been: Describe the travels and teachings of the Apostle Paul.

Some young people would come to class the first day and get their name on the record. That was about it until the final examination. Then they would come, having boned up on an answer to that question.

One particular semester, three young men who had followed that practice of registering and then absenting themselves until the end of the semester sat with their pencils poised as the professor went to the chalkboard and said, “I shall place on the board the question on which your entire grade will depend.” To their great astonishment he did not write the usual question. Instead, he wrote, “Criticize the Sermon on the Mount.”

One of the three young men said, “I don’t even know what book it is in.” He closed his test book and left the room.

The second young man thought for a moment. He didn’t know anything about the Sermon on the Mount because he had prepared for a different test question. He left the room, anticipating a failing grade.

The third one of this trio stayed in the class. He wrote line after line and page after page. His friends were outside in the hallway, looking through the door window, wondering what he was writing. They knew that he had no more knowledge of the Sermon on the Mount than did they, that he had prepared for the question that was not asked. They wondered what he was writing in that test book.

He didn’t tell them until the day the papers were examined and returned. They all huddled around to see what grade he had received. He had an A on the test and therefore an A in the course. As he opened the cover of the exam book, there was the question: “Criticize the Sermon on the Mount.” And here is what this enterprising young man had written: “I will leave it to someone far more knowledgeable and experienced than I am to criticize the greatest sermon from the greatest life ever lived. As for me, I would prefer to describe the travels and teachings of the Apostle Paul.”

There’s something different about Chris and Jason Trevino of Huntsville, Alabama. Something different in a positive way, a way that makes you want to understand why they’re so upbeat all the time and why they seem to have life all figured out.
This is made all the more intriguing by the fact that the two 19-year-old brothers are identical twins—twins so much alike that people get confused, yet with something so different about them they stand out among their peers. For example:
—They spend a lot of time helping their neighbors, the Wellmans, take care of their three youngest children, Michael, Jennifer, and Nathan. They play and laugh with and tease them in a good-natured way. They organize parties for them and take them fishing or boating. Sometimes they all camp out as a group in the Wellmans’ backyard. Chris and Jason are more like older brothers than neighbors to them. And what do the twins get in return for their kindness? A squeeze play. The kids smother them with hugs.
—They take care of three horses at a nearby riding club, mostly in return for the privilege of being allowed to exercise them now and then. They do the dirty work without complaining. They show up when they say they will and do all that they’re asked. They help with expenses. They’re totally dependable.
—They love their family. Put Jim and Barbara Trevino and their twin boys together and it’s like you’re with a group of best buddies, friends who treat each other with ultimate respect. Add 15-year-old sister Allison to the mix, and it only gets better.
Bad mood? The twins make it disappear.
Help with homework? No problem.
Want to tag along while we go somewhere? Great. Hop in.
Yes, the twins treat everyone well, most of all mom and dad and sister. But there’s something else—fondness may be the closest description. This family really enjoys being together, in a way that lets you know they’ll always be close.
—Most of all, at a time in life when many young men of their age and athletic ability concentrate on which college they’ll attend, what teams they’ll be on, and what young women they’re dating, the twins are leaving all that behind.
Argentina. That’s what they want to talk about right now, because soon that’s where they’ll be. They’ve both been called to serve as full-time missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Chris in Bahia Blanca. Jason in Resistencia. Two years at their own expense. Two years bearing testimony of the Lord Jesus Christ. Two years focused entirely on the needs of other people.
And maybe that’s the clue to figuring out the Trevino twins. The difference that makes them both the same is their love for other people. It’s a love that comes from following the Savior and living his teachings, from concentrating on what really counts instead of wasting worry on worldly things. It’s a dedication that brings happiness so filling it spills out into everything they do and everyone they meet. Add that to personalities that have always been spontaneous, and you’ll find Chris and Jason telling everyone what they’re up to:
—Getting passport pictures taken, they keep telling the photographer about how they’ll be representing the Church. “That’s why we brought our suits for the pictures,” Chris explains.
—Meeting with the county sheriff, who has to sign letters for their visas, they can’t help explaining how excited they are about spreading the gospel. “I can tell,” chuckles the sheriff, who already knows their father.
—At the county government building, they tell the clerks about going to Argentina to preach the gospel. “Isn’t that great?” Jason beams.
—Their mother’s boss, Victor Howard, is a Church member who works across the street. Dropping in to visit, they soon have him joking along with them. But after a few minutes, they talk seriously about the mission he served and how much he loves the Lord, the gospel, and the Church.
You have to understand. Chris and Jason are the kind of guys who, if you ask about diving and you’re close to the community pool, will show you the dives they do. Never mind that they didn’t bring their suits. They’ve been lifeguards here, and the caretaker, who knows them well, gives permission. They look at each other, accept the challenge, and even though they’re in jeans, jump on the board and plunge in the pool. You get the feeling that’s the same way they’ll plunge into missionary work—follow the rules, be dependable, work hard. But get with it—no wimpy excuses.
It’s sort of like a lesson Chris says he learned at the stables.
“Horses are good,” he explains. “If you work with them you learn to love them. But there’s one named Alvin. I don’t like to ride him a whole bunch because of his attitude. He fights me and tries to get the reins from my hands. He thinks he should do what he wants when he wants. There are a few missionaries who are like that. If their mind’s stuck on somebody back home, or if they go out just because everybody else thinks they should be there, they’ve got to change their attitude. You can’t complain about the reins; you’ve got to concentrate on where you’re going.”
And that’s what Chris and Jason are doing—concentrating on where they’re going. Not just on their missions but in their lives.
Sure there are some things that will be tough to leave behind. Family first of all. Friends a close second. Even the horses they’ve taken care of. And school, and work, and just having a blast. But nothing stands in the way once you gain the perspective of eternity. Even having to work in separate missions.
“Chris opened his call letter first, and I saw Argentina,” Jason says. “Then I opened mine, and for a split second it was like, ‘We’ll be in the same mission!’ Then we read more and found out we’d be in different parts of the country. We’ve been together for 19 years, and now we’ll be apart. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is what we’ll be doing.”
Serving others. Bringing them the truth.
Like the times when they’ve talked with Mrs. Wellman about her oldest son, who died in an accident at age four, and where he is now and what he’s doing. Like the times when they’ve shared Church magazines with her, or watched the video Called to Serve.
“Don’t just let her borrow it,” Chris said then. “Let’s have her over here and we’ll all watch it together.”
These are, after all, brothers who are close in more ways than appearance. “We talk about everything together,” Jason says. “Now we’ll just do it through our letters.” That will make for some pretty great letters. Letters they’ll share with Mom and Dad and Allison. Letters they’ll share with the Wellmans and their kids. Letters they’ll share with close friends. Letters in which they’ll bear testimony and record the adventures of two years spent preaching the gospel.
“In the past we looked at missions like they were something they ask you to do,” Jason says. “Once we got closer to it, we thought, ‘It’s the Lord and the prophet who call you, and their way is the right way to go.’ We’d go to church and come home in such a great mood. We talk to everybody about it.”
That includes the 12- and 13-year-old Sunday School class he and Chris teach together.
“I’m learning more and more about the gospel,” Jason says, “especially when we talk about things like the plan of salvation and patriarchal blessings. It’s a learning experience. And I think a lot about Heavenly Father and how much he loves us. He gave up his son for us. He must have a lot of love for us to do something like that.”
“Being as close as I am to my brother,” Chris continues, “it gives me some understanding of how close I should be to the Savior, who is also my brother. Even though Jason and I will be apart during our missions, we’ll be close to Him. And that will make the bond between us even stronger.”
Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That’s the something that makes these twins different from a lot of their peers, but exactly the same in what truly counts.
Editor’s note: Since this story was written, both Chris and Jason have arrived in Argentina and are faithfully serving their missions.

In September 2013, a few weeks after I was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I was called as a ward missionary. During the interview, my bishop told me, “Brother Achille, your duty is to preach the gospel and defend the truth before the world.” Then he asked, “Achille, are you ready?” I answered, “Yes, but I have a concern.” I told him that I did not have much understanding of missionary lessons and he advised me to make institute a priority.
So I began attending institute and the Old Testament was the course of study. It was my first time to study using the Old Testament Institute of Religion Manual, and it was a great joy.
One day after class, I met with a young brother, a member of the Church who was less active. I asked him why he was no longer coming to Church; he said that because in the Church not everyone is treated equally. Asking why he thought that, he told me that while he had attended institute classes throughout the year, he never received his certificate. I asked him if that was really what weakened his faith.
As I was thinking about what I could tell him regarding his situation, the Spirit prompted me to tell him about two older, remarkable, and courageous sisters: my mother, Hélène Kapinga, (62) and Sister Charlotte Nsamba (56). I told my friend that these women had set wise goals to better learn the gospel by joining with us every year at institute class. (In 2017, it was their fourth year attending institute!)
As I taught this young brother, I compared these two women to the strong women in the Book of Mormon who taught their children to fight against the enemies of their freedom, religion, families, and country. I gave this brother a reference from the Book of Alma, an epistle sent by Helaman to inform Moroni what the two thousand young men had told him about the source of their courage to fight against the Lamanites. These young men always knew that if they trusted in God they would be sustained in all things; and they had been taught by their mothers that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them. “We do not doubt our mothers knew it” (Alma 56:48). Even nowadays our mothers know the importance of the institute.
I also told this young brother that one day I asked my mother what she feels at the end of each year of institute when she does not receive a certificate: “Mom, don’t you feel bad when they don’t award you a certificate?” I told my young friend that I was surprised by her answer when she said, “My son, know that what I receive in these institute of religion classes is more important to me than the certificate.” And then she added, “Some young people come to institute just to get a certificate, but they forget what is important. I would rather lack a certificate than the knowledge of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ.” I thanked my mother for her inspired words.
I explained to the young brother that—like the two thousand young warriors told Helaman I have no doubt my mother, Hélène, and Sister Charlotte both know the importance of institute.
Today, my older brother and I are both serving in the mission field. I am serving in the Kinshasa Democratic Republic of the Congo Mission, while my brother is serving in the Mbuji-Mayi Democratic Republic of the Congo Mission.
I testify to you that institute is an inspired program—and has changed my life. I testify to you that because of institute I had the desire to serve a full-time mission, and today I have the courage to defend the truth wherever I find myself. I am not afraid to testify of the Book of Mormon to anyone because I am well prepared; and he who is “prepared . . . shall not fear” (Doctrine and Covenants 38:30).
I know that I am well equipped with knowledge of the truthfulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ acquired in institute. Today I am a missionary, authorized to preach the gospel to the world, and an official representative of Jesus Christ and of his Church because I made institute a priority in my life before going on mission.

For most of my life, I’ve struggled with repentance. I knew it was important and that I should do it, but I didn’t fully understand it. And because it was something I didn’t do well, I felt discouraged whenever someone would emphasize its importance in a talk.
It got to the point where I even disliked hearing the word repentance because it reminded me of something I wasn’t doing. It seemed as though I was falling behind, and the longer this problem continued, the further behind I got.
Finally, I heard the following statement in general conference from then–Young Men General President Stephen W. Owen, and I began to think differently: “The joy of repentance is more than the joy of living a decent life. It’s the joy of forgiveness, of being clean again, and of drawing closer to God. Once you’ve experienced that joy, no lesser substitute will do.”1
Another general conference talk awakened in me a further desire to do better. President Russell M. Nelson said: “Whether you are diligently moving along the covenant path, have slipped or stepped from the covenant path, or can’t even see the path from where you are now, I plead with you to repent. Experience the strengthening power of daily repentance—of doing and being a little better each day.”2
As I did my best to follow this counsel, I found answers to concerns and gained a better understanding of the blessings of repentance. Yet I wondered what I still didn’t understand about repentance that was making it so hard.
As I prayed for help with repentance, I expressed to Heavenly Father that I truly wanted to change and was willing to change. I knew the Lord would help me. And indeed, He did help me change.
At first, sometimes the change wasn’t permanent and I needed to try again. But the efforts we make matter to the Lord. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught, “With the gift of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the strength of heaven to help us, we can improve, and the great thing about the gospel is we get credit for trying, even if we don’t always succeed.”4
Since gaining this understanding of repentance, I have felt more confident in my ability to follow this counsel given by President Nelson: “Nothing is more liberating, more ennobling, or more crucial to our individual progression than is a regular, daily focus on repentance. Repentance is not an event; it is a process. It is the key to happiness and peace of mind. When coupled with faith, repentance opens our access to the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”5
When I made the decision to repent better, I had no idea it would have such a far-reaching and lasting influence on my life. The blessings that have come are real. I came to realize that the feelings of discouragement I had were from the enemy of my soul, who didn’t want me to repent. I also came to realize that I was not so much always falling behind through my failure to repent as I was sometimes simply forfeiting blessings I could have received if I’d made more of an effort to do the things I could be doing.
As I have continued to do my best to repent each day, I’ve felt God’s love and direction in ways I could have scarcely imagined before. I no longer feel weighed down by sin. I have come to recognize the privilege and blessing that repentance really is. I now understand what Brother Owen said: “Once you’ve experienced [the joy of repentance], no lesser substitute will do.”

“Please, Rachel!” Zack begged his older sister. “Please play one more game with us!”
“I can’t, Zack. I have homework,” Rachel said. “Maybe tomorrow night.” She walked out of the room.
“You never play with me anymore!” Zack said, a little louder than he meant to.
“Zack,” Dad said, “let her do her homework.” He passed out the different pieces for the game while Zack slumped in his chair. It seemed like Rachel was always doing homework. And next year she would be at college! He would hardly get to see her at all.
“Zack, your turn,” Mom said.
Zack moved his game piece and waited for his next turn. He looked at Mom’s phone. He had an idea. Zack picked up her phone and quickly typed a text.
Hi, Rachel. You are a big, bad, rotten meanie. Love, Zack.
There. Zack grinned and hit send. He sat back in his chair. Now to win the game.
A few turns later, Mom’s phone buzzed. She read the screen.
“Um, Zack?” she said. “I think this is for you.”
Zack smiled. He wondered what Rachel’s comeback would be. He took the phone and read the text.
Hi, Zack. You are a divine son of God! Love, Sister Stewart.
Zack’s stomach flipped. “OH NO!” he gasped. “Oh no, oh no, oh no!”
“What?” Dad asked.
Zack hadn’t texted his sister Rachel. He had sent the text to Sister Stewart! Rachel Stewart. He had told Mom’s ministering companion that she was a big, bad, rotten meanie! Zack buried his face in his hands. He wanted to crawl under the table and stay there for a hundred years. Maybe a thousand.
“What’s going on, Zack?” Mom asked.
“I sent a rude text to Sister Stewart instead of to Rachel. I didn’t mean to!” Zack quickly texted Sister Stewart again.
I’m so sorry, Sister Stewart. That text was for my sister.
Zack bit his lip, waiting for her reply. Was she going to be mad? Sister Stewart was always so nice to everyone. What if he had hurt her feelings?
Mom’s phone buzzed.
Zack, I forgive you! I was happy to hear from you, even if the words were a bit unlike you. I’ve known you for a long time, and I know you are a good boy who will do great things someday. Maybe you will even do something great tonight!
Zack let out a breath. He felt a so much better now.
“Is everything OK?” Mom asked.
“I think so,” Zack said.
“You’re lucky you texted Sister Stewart and not someone else,” Mom said. “She is always quick to forgive.”
Zack nodded. Sister Stewart was a good example. And he knew he shouldn’t have sent that text anyway, even to his sister. He knew it was important to use his words to say kind things, not to hurt others.
He jumped up. “I’ll be right back. There’s something I have to go tell Rachel!”
Illustration by Mike Laughead

In August of this year, there occurred a tragedy in Salt Lake County. It was reported in the local and national press. Five beautiful little girls—so young, so vibrant, so loving—hiding away, as children often do in their games of hide-and-seek, entered the trunk of a parent’s car. The trunk lid was pulled shut, they were unable to escape, and all perished from heat exhaustion.
The entire community was so kind, so thoughtful, so caring in the passing of Alisha, Ashley, McKell, Audrey, and Jaesha. Flowers, food, calls, visits, and prayers were shared.
On the Sunday after the devastating event occurred, long lines of automobiles filled with grieving occupants drove ever so slowly past the Smith home, the scene of the accident. Sister Monson and I wished to be among those who expressed condolences in this way. As we drove by, we felt we were on holy ground. We literally crept along at a snail’s pace along the street. It was as though we could visualize a traffic sign reading, “Please drive slowly; children at play.” Tears filled our eyes and compassion flowed from our hearts.
At the funeral, as well as the evening prior, thousands passed by the caskets and expressed support for the grieving parents and grandparents. In two of the three families, the deceased children were all the children they had.
At the funeral services for the five little angels, I counseled: “There is one phrase which should be erased from your thinking and from the words you speak aloud. It is the phrase ‘If only.’ It is counterproductive and is not conducive to the spirit of healing and of peace. Rather, recall the words of Proverbs: ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.’”
Before the closing of the caskets, I noted that each child held a favorite toy, a soft gift to cuddle. I reflected on the words of the poet Eugene Field:
The little toy dog is covered with dust,
But sturdy and staunch he stands;
And the little toy soldier is red with rust,
And his musket moulds in his hands.
Time was when the little toy dog was new,
And the soldier was passing fair,
And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue
Kissed them and put them there.
“Now, don’t you go till I come,” he said,
“And don’t you make any noise!”
So toddling off to his trundle-bed
He dreamt of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue,—
Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true!
Ay, faithful to Little Boy Blue they stand,
Each in the same old place,
Awaiting the touch of a little hand,
The smile of a little face.
And they wonder, as waiting these long years through,
In the dust of that little chair,
What has become of our Little Boy Blue
Since he kissed them and put them there.
The little toy dog and the soldier fair may wonder, but God in His infinite mercy has not left grieving loved ones to wonder. He has provided truth. He will inspire an upward reach, and His outstretched arms will embrace you. Jesus promises to one and all who grieve, “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.”
There is only one source of true peace. I am certain that the Lord, who notes the fall of a sparrow, looks with compassion upon those who have been called upon to part—even temporarily—from their precious children. The gifts of healing and of peace are desperately needed, and Jesus, through His Atonement, has provided them for one and all.
The Prophet Joseph Smith spoke inspired words of revelation and comfort:
“All children who die before they arrive at the years of accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom of heaven.”
“The mother [and father] who laid down [their] little child[ren], being deprived of the privilege, the joy, and the satisfaction of bringing [them] up to manhood or womanhood in this world, would, after the resurrection, have all the joy, satisfaction and pleasure, and even more than it would have been possible to have had in mortality, in seeing [their] child[ren] grow to the full measure of the stature of [their] spirit[s].” This is as the balm of Gilead to those who grieve, to those who have loved and lost precious children.
The Psalmist provided this assurance: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”
Said the Lord: “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”
“In my Father’s house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you … that where I am, there ye may be also.”
I express my profound thanks to a loving Heavenly Father, who gives to you, to me, and to all who sincerely seek, the knowledge that death is not the end, that His Son—even our Savior, Jesus Christ—died that we might live. Temples of the Lord dot the lands of many countries. Sacred covenants are made. Celestial glory awaits the obedient. Families can be together—forever.
The Master invites one and all:
“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.”
That all may do so is my humble prayer of thanks, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The pulpit in the Conference Center has a unique story. Following is President Gordon B. Hinckley’s account:
“I love trees. When I was a boy we lived on a farm in the summer, a fruit farm. Every year at this season we planted trees. I think I have never missed a spring since I was married, except for two or three years when we were absent from the city, that I have not planted trees. …
“Some 36 years ago I planted a black walnut [tree]. It was in a crowded area where it grew straight and tall to get the sunlight. A year ago, for some reason it died. But walnut is a precious furniture wood. I called Brother Ben Banks of the Seventy, who, before giving his full time to the Church, was in the business of hardwood lumber. He brought his two sons, one a bishop and the other recently released as a bishop and who now run the business, to look at the tree. From all they could tell it was solid, good, and beautiful wood. One of them suggested that it would make a pulpit for this hall. The idea excited me. The tree was cut down and then cut into two heavy logs. Then followed the long process of drying, first naturally and then kiln drying. The logs were cut into boards at a sawmill in Salem, Utah. The boards were then taken to Fetzer’s woodworking plant, where expert craftsmen designed and built this magnificent pulpit with that wood.
“The end product is beautiful. I wish all of you could examine it closely. It represents superb workmanship, and here I am speaking to you from the tree I grew in my backyard, where my children played and also grew.
“It is an emotional thing for me. I have planted another black walnut or two. I will be long gone before they mature. When that day comes and this beautiful pulpit has grown old, perhaps one of them will do to make a replacement. To Elder Banks and his sons, Ben and Bradley, and to the skilled workers who have designed and built this, I offer my profound thanks for making it possible to have a small touch of mine in this great hall where the voices of prophets will go out to all the world in testimony of the Redeemer of mankind.”

I know of a couple who lived thousands of miles from the nearest temple. Although they earned little, they faithfully paid their tithing and saved all that they could to journey to the house of the Lord. After a year, the husband’s brother—not a member of the Church—unexpectedly came forward and offered them two airplane tickets. This temporal blessing made possible the spiritual blessings of their temple endowments and sealing. An additional spiritual blessing came later as the brother, touched by the couple’s humble faithfulness, joined the Church.

We had some additional motivation not to cancel FSY. The year before at almost the same time, the conference had been planned for this same group, everything organized and ready to go. On the morning FSY was to begin it had to be cancelled because the Omicron variant of COVID-19 that originated in South Africa was spreading quickly. The youth had been unable to participate in any activities the years before due to the coronavirus, and now at the last minute in 2021 the light at the end of the tunnel had been ripped away from them. Would we have to repeat this again in 2022? We hoped not.

We inspected the bridge to see if it would be possible for the youth to cross it by foot. We observed that most of the bridge was out of the river, but if we were to use it, the youth would still have to cross a portion of the river in at least knee-deep water that was running swiftly for the last 30 meters. We asked the Konka staff to begin setting up ropes across the bridge, emphasizing that we would not take any risks with the youth, many of whom do not swim at all. If it was clear we could cross the river safely, we would go forward with this plan.
A few hours before the youth began to arrive, we held a meeting and a quick spiritual thought with the young single adults. As a Church, our pioneers have crossed rivers in times of extreme difficulty before. “Let me tell you about the Sweetwater River in Wyoming and the story of the Martin and Willie handcart companies,” I said.
I recounted the events of Nov. 4, 1856, when the members of the Martin handcart company could go no further and wept at the thought of crossing that river in the frigid cold to find shelter from the storm at Martin’s Cove.
I told them of three members of the rescue party from Salt Lake City, all young adults, who stepped forward and volunteered to carry the entire company across the frigid river at great personal cost. I then asked, “who is willing to carry on this tradition and carry our 530 youth across the river this morning so a different kind of rescue can continue today, right here?”
The young single adults leapt to their feet volunteering in excitement to be a rescuer for the 2022 FSY and carry our youth across the river. They ran to their dorm rooms and changed into suitable clothing, knowing they were about to get very wet and dirty in the river and mud.
At 10:45 am we walked down to the water. The youth had already begun to arrive. The Konka staff had fixed the ropes to hold while crossing the water and were ready for the assistance of the young single adults. Several leaders grabbed onto the ropes and walked across the river and foot bridge to greet the youth and their parents and leaders as they arrived, to give them confidence and assurance that everything was safe, and we were moving forward.
There was shock on the faces of the youth and leaders as we explained the situation and instructed the youth to remove their shoes and socks and pull up their pant legs as far as they could. An umbrella to protect them from the rain was all most had planned on. Now they were about to cross a river on foot. As they walked down to the footbridge, several slipped, a few even falling in the deep and slippery mud. “Hang on to the rope!” was the yell that echoed for the next three hours as group after group arrived.
The young adult leaders took every suitcase and all the bedding and carried it across the footbridge. Over 500 youth made it across the river, either on the backs of the young single adults or picking their own cautious paths across the river whilst holding onto the safety ropes. A few hours later, the rain began to lessen. We had made it, and the FSY experience could go forward.
Uniformly, the youth expressed thanks that FSY had not been cancelled and we had found a way forward. Several analogies to our river crossing followed during the week, all relating back to the theme trust in the Lord. The young single adults acting as counselors not only carried and guided the youth across a literal river, but then spent the week teaching and strengthening the youth in a way that has had a deep and meaningful impact—teaching them and sharing tools for navigating an increasingly difficult world. Lives have been forever changed.

A few years ago, I became active in the Church again after six months of inactivity. My spiritual thirst was unbelievable, for I was once again on the right path. After just a few months, I felt the desire to serve the Lord as a missionary. I had interviews with my bishop, who helped me prepare. I had to wait to be truly ready, and in the meantime the bishop advised me to tell my parents of my plans.
My parents are members of the Church, but they had been less active for more than nine years. From the day I spoke with them about my desire, the opposition became real. I agreed with my family that if I passed the competitive examination from the school I had been accepted to, they would let me go on a mission in one year.
That year ended up being the most difficult of my life. My mother thought I would forget about my desire to go on a mission. However, after I had attended a few months of school, she realized I was truly preparing for a mission. So she cut off my financial support. It was then that my prayers became great blessings.
My Heavenly Father inspired me to look for a job, which I did. After finding three good openings, I wrote my letters of application and pleaded with the Lord to let me receive at least one positive response, for I had done all that He had commanded me.
A response came only three days later. I was called in for an interview with one of the companies. Following the interview, I got the job that day. The only problem was that I was still not earning enough money to cover all my expenses. After praying to God, I felt inspired to trust Him and not to fear. So I paid my tithing without fear.
A few weeks later my landlord asked to see me. “Most likely to talk about rent,” I thought. What he said was, “You will not need to pay your rent until you finish school!”
I could not believe it. This blessing enabled me to pay for what I needed, and most important, it helped me prepare financially for my mission. Miracles were taking place in my life at just the right time.
I have now completed my mission. I feel such gratitude for the ability to pray to our Father in Heaven. I am so happy to know with a certainty that He lives and that He loves His children. If we listen to Him, we will see many miracles in our lives.

I became engaged to Judy shortly after I joined the Church. We were later sealed in the Alberta Temple. We have six children—four sons and two daughters. My family has been a great blessing in my life. All those years when I had wanted to become a Catholic priest, I could never bring myself to enter the Catholic seminary because I felt it was wrong for a man to live without a wife and a family. My wife has been a great influence for good in my life. Without her faith, testimony, and desire to do what the Lord wanted her to do, I may not have gained a testimony and joined the Church.

What about giving a talk in sacrament meeting or presenting at an academic conference in your area of study? The first time I gave a talk at a major Alzheimer’s disease conference, I was in the first year of graduate school. It was the American Society of Human Genetics meetings, attended by over 10,000 scientists. My talk didn't have that many attendees. But I was terrified. I managed my fear with preparation. I prayed for guidance on how to prepare, and for the ability to do my very best work. I carefully made slides, wrote a word-for-word script for each slide, shared it with my Ph.D. advisor, and made edits. Then, I practiced it over and over. In the mirror. To the people in my research lab. And to Monica. Poor, kind Monica. I vividly remember plugging the computer into the TV in our little apartment in Saint Louis and giving my talk…over and over. Monica must have listen to it at least 10 times, and maybe even 20 times. When the moment to speak came, I was still nervous but not scared. I knew I had prepared and trusted the preparation. It went soooo well!

Rachel and Nathan also share a love for school—and the memory of how it feels to be the new kid. Three years ago, their family moved to Connecticut from Las Vegas, Nevada. Nathan quickly found a best friend who looks so much like him that people often think they are twins. He was also super excited about living where it snows, especially because his new front yard has a built-in sledding hill.
For Rachel, it wasn’t quite as easy. “By third grade, the kids at school already had all their friends,” she remembers. Finally she began making friends from other classes at recess. The children in Primary were very welcoming to both Rachel and Nathan.
Rachel is already in the Beehive class in Young Women. But her birthday is in January, so she is still in Primary for class time.
She used to feel sad that she didn’t get to go to Sunday School with the girls who were a few months older. One reason she feels better about it now is that her Primary class is studying the Doctrine and Covenants. “It’s really interesting, and that helps keep me from thinking about not being in Sunday School,” Rachel says.
Rachel is also happy that she can still be in Primary class with her friend Marissa. “If I had moved on completely, she would have been left in a class with no other girls,” Rachel says.
Her positive attitude fits right in with one of her favorite scriptures: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded” (1 Nephi 3:7).
Both Rachel and Nathan are kind and helpful. Rachel likes helping classmates who are having trouble with math. She hopes to be a teacher someday. And Nathan watches out for a boy in his class who has special needs. With kindness and hard work, these two great kids are right on target to make their dreams come true!

When Sally was younger, she and her family lived in Japan for three years while her dad worked there. She learned to speak and write Japanese very well and made many good friends at school, in the neighborhood, and at church. When she was eight years old, her family moved back to America. Now Sally misses her friends in Japan, but she remembers the rice paddies, the ocean, the trains, the mountains, and the fireworks. She also remembers trying to catch eels with her bare hands at a festival.