Gospel Story Finder

The bus pulled into the parking lot of the hotel at 10:00 P.M. and deposited 36 nervously excited singers, a load of stage equipment, and a couple of dazed advisers who were showing the effects of a 16-hour bus ride. Inside the hotel’s ballroom Bob Hope was finishing up a few jokes while 750 Hollywood celebrities and top military officials finished their dinner. In the parking lot a few last-minute instructions were given, a prayer was offered, and on the cue of “Footprints, let’s go!” the Footprints of Freedom entered the Beverly Wilshire Hotel to entertain at the annual Air Force Ball.
The group had left Provo the night before and had not really slept since. After the show they would have six hours of sleep before the bus picked them up for the return trip to Provo. But cramped buses, lack of sleep, and a steady diet of roadside hamburgers are minor inconveniences when the Footprints have the chance to sing about America’s proud 200 years.
The performance at the Air Force Ball was a rousing success. General David C. Jones, Air Force Chief of Staff, personally came backstage after the performance to congratulate the Footprints. The group was invited to film a short segment in a movie for the Air Force, and it was nearly midnight before everyone got back to their hotel rooms. At 6:00 A.M. the bus would arrive for the return trip. There’d be another round of “Good,” “Bad,” and “Ugly” awards, another luggage rack rotation, and another 16-hour bus ride.
But it had been worth it—they had sung about America for 20 minutes. And during those 20 minutes perhaps one person had decided not to let the good land pass him by.

I’ve always been a curious person.
Growing up, I had big questions about how the earth was created, how human life was formed, and why we’re on this planet. When I learned about and accepted the gospel of Jesus Christ at age 14, I found so many answers and greater meaning for my life. I did my best to keep God’s commandments and felt real joy living the gospel.
I continued progressing in many exciting ways—I served a mission, attended university, and more. But as I approached age 30, I became discouraged that I hadn’t had the opportunity to get married. Although I saw many people around me choose to live contrary to the law of chastity, I was firm in my commitment to keep my covenants and prepare for a temple marriage.
I believed that happiness comes from obedience (see Mosiah 2:41). But as I looked around at my friends who chose not to keep the law of chastity, they seemed happier than me. They were having new experiences with dating and relationships, and I felt a sense of unfairness. As a curious and well-educated person, I was frustrated that my friends now seemed wiser and more mature than me.
The commandments began to feel less like a blessing and more like a roadblock keeping me from living my best life.
I was tempted to walk away from the idea of a temple marriage and a gospel-centered life after a while. The law of chastity just felt too hard to keep when I was surrounded by a world that didn’t view physical intimacy the same way I did.
When I was struggling the most, my institute teacher shared a story about having the missionaries over for dinner. He shared how his whole family prepared for and participated in the spiritual thought the missionaries shared.
In that moment, I realized that more than anything, I wanted to raise a family that could enjoy the blessings of the gospel all together.
It all clicked. The law of chastity wasn’t a roadblock keeping me from experiencing the gift of sexuality—it was a blessing keeping me pointed toward the temple and my eternal family.
Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles taught: “Is it wrong to have rules? Of course not. We all need them every day. But it is wrong to focus only on rules instead of focusing on the Savior. You need to know the whys and the hows and then consider the consequences of your choices.”
When I remembered the Savior and His sacrifice for me, I decided that the blessings of keeping my covenants, including the law of chastity and being married in the temple, would be worth the wait. True happiness isn’t about doing whatever you want. It’s about being worthy to have the companionship of the Holy Ghost.
There can be other instances when we feel tempted to break our covenants. Living the gospel isn’t always easy! But the covenants we make and the commandments we keep were put in place by a loving Heavenly Father who has our best interests at heart. We can trust that He knows so much more than we do and that following Him over the world will always lead us to joy.
I feel grateful that I recently fell in love and was married in the temple. I’m glad I was dedicated to the commandments so I can now enjoy the blessings of eternal marriage.

Have you ever been to a restaurant where some of the food items on the menu are unfamiliar? In 2018, my wife and I went to a restaurant in Osaka, Japan. The menu had many options, most of which were unfamiliar and strange to us. One person in our group chose calamari (squid). But I did not like calamari, so I chose something else. Everyone selected something different from the menu. We all enjoyed our meals because we each chose a dish that appealed to us.

You do not need to eat calamari unless you like it. (By the way, after sampling excellent Japanese calamari, I have come to like it.) You can choose to invite others to learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ in ways that are comfortable and natural for you, using your own talents and abilities. Over time you may find that the range of things that are comfortable expands.

You take your place in line, rubbing the chalk deeper into your hands. You take a quick glance at your older sister. She is running, jumping, spinning—making difficult gymnastic moves into something beautiful.
“I can do it,” you say to the air.
Then you run at the vault. There is a low crack, a moment of uncertainty as the ground disappears and you begin twisting. I can do it, you repeat. The landing is perfect. You turn and your older sister is watching. You both smile. For a moment anything is possible.
If you’re not 13, try to remember what it was like. Standing in the shadow of an older brother or sister. Wondering who you are. Proving yourself in a big world.
Denice Pauga is 13. She is also one of the best gymnasts her age in Canada, but her sister Cassandra, 16, has always been that little bit better. It has taken a long time, but Denice is beginning to find her own way, in life and at the gym.
In Lethbridge, Alberta, the west wind always blows hard off the plains, twisting and dancing through town. The wind is persistent, like the girls have learned to be. In the quiet city of Lethbridge, Denice and Cassie have found anything is possible.
For Denice, persistence is not a natural quality. Oh, she has talent, lots of it. In fact, when Denice was only two she followed her sister into gymnastics—the routines, the moves, they all came easy to her and it was fun. But getting to a point where she could compete with the best was hard work. Cassie never objected to training long hours, skipping parties, missing her friends. But for Denice it was different.
She complained about having to practice every night. Her dad said she didn’t have to go and for six months Denice played with her friends, instead. No gymnastics.
In the end Denice missed the competition, the limelight, and asked to go back—this time for good. “I think one of the things Denice loves about gymnastics is showing a crowd what she can do,” says Cassie.
And that love of performance is apparent as soon as you meet her. So is her distaste for practice. In a way it is charming, that she cannot fake an attitude. Denice grumbles all the way up to the bars; then she grabs a hold and her eyes focus. She turns professional. She seems to relish each movement that defies physical law—to know that she can do something so wonderful, so fascinating for the people watching.
But even with that love of performance, there have been difficulties. “It’s hard because Cassie is always one step ahead of her,” says Robby, their mom. “What Denice doesn’t realize is that she is actually a better gymnast than Cassie was at her age. But Cassie always gets to move first.”
“I feel competition to do as well as Cassie, but I have realized that I can do some things as good as her,” says Denice. “Some things I can do even better. That makes me feel equal.”
And in time she has found something of her own that has helped—a relationship with her Heavenly Father. “It’s become important in my life. I always pray before a meet and I haven’t been hurt yet. And I know if I stick to the standards of the Church, if I don’t give them up, He will help me out when I need it.”
Cassie was the opposite of Denice. She never wanted to leave gymnastics. “You could put her in the gym at eight o’clock in the morning and come back for her at eight o’clock at night and she’d still be working hard,” says Robby. She loved the practice as much as competing—the thrill of nailing a move that only a handful of girls in the world could make.
But along the way Cassie had her own obstacles to overcome.
In December of ’89, Cassie was coming off a remarkable year. She had placed 13th in Canada her first year as a high performance senior (the highest class of amateur—Denice competes in the Open Class, 13- and 14-year-olds). But then, as she was performing a routine on bars, she slipped and tore ligaments in her back. For the next six months she was in pain, at first barely able to move. She rested, did all the right things, but Canadian nationals came and practice and competition were still painful.
She convinced her coaches and parents to let her compete anyway. The night before the meet, Cassie said a prayer that her back would be better. That morning, as she was warming up, her grandmother came up and said she had been fasting and praying for her, to help her through the competition.
“My back had hurt for all those months. It was hurting all the time. But at that moment it stopped.
“I’d always prayed before a competition, but that was the first time I realized Heavenly Father does answer our prayers, that he is there to help us get through the tough things in life.”
Although she missed most of the year due to her injury, she was able to place 13th again, one spot off the 12-person Canadian international traveling team.
From then on life and gymnastics were different. They meant even more. It was like the Lord was there, always, and it was through him that anything was possible.
Of course, there’s more than the gym in Cassie and Denice’s lives. Cassie attends seminary faithfully, and Denice starts this year. Both girls sing and play instruments. They enjoy attending Young Women. And there are friends and family.
Mom and Grandma take the girls to the gym and travel with them on trips. Little sister, Kirsten, is also in gymnastics, and the older girls enjoy helping her. And there’s Dad. Tony loves his family, but he has found he has his own obstacles. He’s a perfectionist—he admits it. Tony has always been a top athlete and he expects his children to win. So usually he stays away from the meets, not because he doesn’t care, but because he cares so much.
“I’m afraid that my presence will be too much—that they will perform to satisfy me, rather than themselves, and end up making a mistake.
“I’m a very hard person for them to have for a dad. I don’t actually know if they think I’m proud of them. I think Cassie knows.”
They know. Through time Dad has become less of a mystery. “I’m learning to deal with it,” says Denice. “It’s like other problems in life. You just take them one step at a time, just like learning a new move.”
You strive for excellence, but eventually you realize you can’t be perfect in everything you do, everything you try. You just have to do your best and accept that in others.
That includes accepting each other. In training they have put aside sisterly differences and offer encouragement.
“Believe it or not, they train together like friends, not sisters,” says their coach, Dan Niehaus, who supervises the girls’ 25 hours a week of training. “They transmit a good feeling to the younger girls in the gym. They make it a fun place to be.”
As for the future, it is rich with hope like the present, full of challenges and occasional victories. This year both girls are hoping to place well at nationals and realize a life-long dream, to make the Canadian traveling team.
“I think representing my country would be the best,” says Cassie. “Being at an international competition and having a Canada track suit on—the suits are really nice.”
All that seems so far from Lethbridge. But it started here on the southern Alberta plains—with the support of a family and a determination to do their best.
Outside, the prairies seem to stretch on forever. The persistent west wind always blows, twisting and dancing. Cassie and Denice know Lethbridge is a place, like any place, where anything is possible.

Jeremy Carver (9) was born in northern Virginia. He played soccer and baseball there and explored the nearby fields and beaver pond. And he went with his family on trips to the zoo, to Civil War sites, and to places in Washington, D.C.
Then Jeremy and his family left their house in the Virginia countryside and moved to an apartment on the nineteenth floor of a skyscraper in Hong Kong, a British dependency leased from the People’s Republic of China. Hong Kong is a huge international trade center, and from the patio of his home, Jeremy can overlook the beautiful harbor there.
Jeremy soon had favorite plant, fruit, pet, and juice vendors in his new neighborhood. They and other people he meets are fascinated by his hair because it is so much lighter than theirs. About 98 percent of the people in Hong Kong are Chinese, and Jeremy got to be in an ice-cream commercial when a foreign child was needed in it.
One trip was a ferry ride to a nearby island where a Buddhist monastery is built on the top of a mountain. Other trips have included a drive to the farms and small villages near the Chinese border. But whether it’s a family-home-evening walk in the neighborhood or a longer excursion, Jeremy loves to meet the people of Hong Kong and have them as his friends.

I recently read the remarkable account of the life of the French writer Jacques Lusseyran.

At the age of seven, Jacques fell while at school, striking the corner of his teacher’s desk. The violent blow caused serious injury to his eyes, leaving him completely and permanently blind.

Jacques later wrote:
Being blind was not at all as I imagined it. . . . People . . . told me that to be blind meant not to see. Yet . . . I saw. Not at once, I admit. Not in the days immediately after the operation. . . .
. . . [But in time] I was aware of a radiance. . . . Light was there [along with joy].7

As Jacques grew, he acquired, because of his blindness, what he called a “sense of human beings.”8 This sense helped him see people through the tone of their voice.

This gift became vital when he was fifteen years old and the Nazi regime occupied Paris in June 1940. Although very young, he and his friends formed an underground resistance movement. The group chose Jacques to be their leader.

Of that time, Jacques wrote:
Every day, including Sunday, I got up . . . before it was light. The first thing I did was to kneel down and pray: “My God, give me the strength to keep my promises. . . . Now that twenty young men . . . are waiting for my orders, tell me what orders to give them. By myself I know how to do almost nothing, but if you will it I am capable of almost everything.”9

All who were nominated to join the movement had to first meet with “the blind man.”10 Jacques would listen not so much to their words as to their souls. In one year this organization of twenty grew to more than six hundred.

There was just one man he admitted to the movement of whom he was not absolutely sure, and it was that man who later betrayed them. Jacques and his companions were arrested by the Gestapo in 1943. They were shipped to Buchenwald with two thousand other Frenchmen. Only thirty of those two thousand were alive when the camp was liberated. Jacques was twenty years old.

Jacques had suffered through one of the darkest periods in modern history and had been on the brink of death. Nevertheless, he wrote:
I have not a single evil memory of those three hundred and thirty days of extreme wretchedness. I was carried by a hand. I was covered by a wing. . . . I [became] free now to help the others. . . .
I could try to show other people how to go about holding on to life. I could turn toward them the flow of light and joy which had grown so abundant in me.11

Two and a half years ago, my husband, Mark, and I were invited to join a Zoom call with four BYU–Pathway students. They were from Papua New Guinea, South Africa, the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and Zimbabwe. For more than an hour, we listened as they told their stories about how BYU–Pathway had transformed their lives. We were overwhelmed by their intelligence, determination, resilience, and faith. We were also humbled by the sacrifices they were making to get an education—sacrifices most of us could never fully comprehend.
It was on that call that I understood for the first time, in a very profound way, a phrase that I had heard before and that I hope you will remember: Talent is equally distributed, but opportunity is not.

A few years ago, neighbors who frequently hired our daughter, Elizabeth, as a babysitter, complimented us on what a wonderful daughter we had. They asked what we had done to raise a young woman who felt so comfortable interacting with adults. I immediately began a mental scan of our parenting strategies to see which one might explain this particular positive outcome. But my review was cut short by a gentle rebuke from the Spirit: "Do you think visiting and serving her grandmother and other elderly people every week for several years might have had something to do with this?" At the time, my mother was engaged in a decade-long bout with a particularly nasty, strain of Alzheimer's that impaired not only her memory but her perception of reality. I confess that if it had been up to me, I would have chosen to lose my mother to a heart attack instead. But in that moment, I couldn't help but think about how my daughter had been shaped and blessed over that decade of affliction by serving and loving my mother and other elderly people. Indeed, even after my mother passed away, my children have chosen to continue our family tradition of singing together every Sunday afternoon with our friends the Thomases to residents of the assisted living facility where my mother spent her final two years. As I watch Elizabeth interact in a remarkably mature and caring way with these precious children of God, I recognize that my mother's prolonged suffering played a preparatory role in my family's life in ways I did not fully appreciate at the time. This experience has helped me better obey the command to "thank the Lord thy God in all things[, ]"[22] including preparatory afflictions.

One of my favorite prophets of my youth was President Boyd K. Packer. As a child, President Packer grew up surrounded by an orchard. One day he was working on irrigating the orchard. The rows were overgrown with weeds and soon the finite supply of water began to flood in every direction. He frantically worked in the puddles to shore up the bank, but just as soon as one was patched, another one broke. A neighbor came by, watched for a moment, and then with a few strokes of the shovel, cleared the ditch and allowed the water to course through the channel he made. The neighbor said, “If you want the water to stay in its course, you’ll have to make a place for it to go”. President Packer likened thoughts to the water. “Thoughts will stay on course if we make a place for them to go, otherwise thoughts follow the course of least resistance, always seeking the lower levels”. Learning to control your thoughts is easier said than done, probably one of the hardest things you’ll learn to do, but President Packer reminds us that as we learn to control our thoughts, we can overcome habits, gain courage, conquer fear, and have a happy life.

“During December 1987, I had some Church assignments in Bolivia, a beautiful South American country where the Church is growing rapidly but where the people have very little. The Regional Representative, Elder Philip Kradolfer, accompanied me, and he brought a large suitcase full of toys. Just before Christmas each year, his children give up some of their toys to help the children living in the Altiplano, or high plateau region, of Bolivia. It was wonderful to see the children’s faces as they received a doll, a game, a book, or a purse. Jesus taught that it is better to give than to receive, and I am sure that you have felt the same happiness when you have been a secret helper.
“While serving in South America last year,” Elder Cuthbert recalled, “I met many people who had little to eat and hardly a roof over their heads. Many are hearing the gospel and are being baptized. The children are attending Primary and are preparing for missions, just like you.
“In your prayers, would you remember these boys and girls who have a very hard life? As you prayerfully express thanks for the blessings that you enjoy, fill yourself up with gratitude and let it overflow into service. As you help other children, you will not want so much for yourselves.”

Cheng Han-sin awakened with a feeling of great happiness, but it took him a few seconds to remember why he felt the way he did.
Stretching out on the mat helped him to recollect. He had given his bed to his aged grandparents who had come to Hsinchu to join in the New Year’s Eve celebration.
This was the very day! There would be fun and feasting all over Taiwan, with fireworks and a parade in the evening. Best of all, he was to march in the head of a dragon. He had been chosen because of his good grades at school and because he happened to be just the right size.
Oh, it was good to be alive this day in Hsinchu, to have grandparents, and to be just the right size to stand inside the head of a dragon and guide it in the parade! He jumped up from the mat, slipped on his clothes, and went out to the kitchen where his mother was preparing a breakfast of rice and fried vegetables. The feasting would come later.
After breakfast his father said, "Now all of you scatter and do your chores. Then I have a surprise for you." From the smile on his father’s face Han-sin knew that it was a good surprise.
He hurried out to weed the small garden. When he came back into the house his sister Mei-ling had just finished wiping off the floor mats. His brother Shih-kai was watering the house plants. The two younger children were listening to their grandfather tell how he and their grandmother had come all the way from the farm on the train.
Waiting impatiently for his father to come in from his work in the garden, Han-sin asked, "Is it time now for the surprise?"
"Now is the time, my son," said his father. "Come. We will all go down to the park."
Han-sin asked, "Grandfather, will you not come with us to the park?"
"No, my son. I cannot walk so far. My old knees do not hold up for more than a few steps."
It was the first cloud on Han-sin’s happy day.
The children followed their father from the house. He was carrying a large package. When they reached the park he brought out a large kite. "This is for you, Han-sin," he said, "because you have brought honor to the house of Cheng."
Han-sin unwound the string and ran along the grass. The kite was lifted upward. It was in the shape of a carp, and as it filled with the wind, the mouth of the fish kite opened as though it were searching for food.
The children all laughed and cheered. "It is the finest kite in all the world," said Mei-ling.
After many flights Father said, "Come, it is time to go home. We will have our dinner, and then it will be the hour to go to the parade."
As they reached the house they took off their shoes and put on the clean slippers that were lined up outside the door. The house was filled with delicious odors of food. Mother said, "Come. The New Year’s feast is ready."
There was fish, steamed rice and vegetables, bits of pork in sweet and sour sauce, bananas and melons, and a sweetmeat for an extra treat.
Before long it was time for Han-sin to leave to take his place in the parade.
"We will all be there to watch you," said his father. "Will you be able to see us?"
"Oh, yes, indeed! I can look out through the huge mouth as long as I am careful not to stick my head out too far. Behind me is Lin Ting-fang. It is he who blows the smoke through the dragon’s nostrils."
Han-sin turned to his grandfather. "I hope that you will like the parade."
"I’m sorry, son, but I cannot walk even that far or stand that long. Your grandmother and I will sit outdoors here and imagine the dragon writhing down the street."
"And I shall stay here with them," his mother added. "I will have many more chances to see parades."
"There will be music that you could hear," said Han-sin. "There will be flutes and banjos and oboes. And there will be fireworks along the way that may be high enough for you to see."
"That will be fine, my son. We will watch and listen."
Han-sin left. He was troubled that his grandparents would not be able to see the parade.
Chang Tso-lin, the parade director, explained, "The big dragon is in the lead. Next come the musicians and the acrobats. And you, Han-sin, will be the last in the little dragon. All you have to do is follow and weave from side to side as you march along. At the third fountain the parade will turn right and return on the other street."
The boys took their places inside the dragon. The sides came down and hid all but their feet. It was a gorgeous green, trimmed with tinsel and make-believe jewels.
As they started to weave down the street, Han-sin thought again of his grandparents. If only they could see the parade! They have had little in life but hard work on the farm.
The boys fell in line behind the acrobats, who were tumbling and performing other stunts along the way. Just behind Han-sin was Lin Ting-fang, blowing smoke through the dragon’s nostrils. He blew some in Han-sin’s face. The boy almost stumbled as he began to choke.
"Please don’t do that again," said Han-sin. "I might fall."
"A fine dragon you’d make if you can’t stand a little smoke," responded Ting-fang, blowing more smoke around Han-sin’s head.
Han-sin started to cough and his eyes were blinded for a moment. "If I fall, it will ruin the parade," he warned.
"So it would," agreed Ting-fang, almost with glee.
Han-sin remembered now. Ting-fang had wanted to be the leader. He was a year older and thought that he should have been chosen.
Han-sin said no more. He thought that if he paid no attention, Ting-fang might stop bothering him. But it was not so. Almost every time the dragon came to an extra large crowd or was making a wide curve, Ting-fang blew more smoke around Han-sin’s head.
At times he could hardly see where they were going because of the smoke. But still he counted the fountains as they passed. Ahead was the third one, Yu Shann, named in honor of the high mountain.
The big dragon in the lead had already turned, followed by the musicians. Now the acrobats were turning. If I turn left instead of right, Han-sin suddenly had a thought, I can go down our street. Then my grandparents can see the dragon.
Disregarding the consequences, Han-sin left the main body of the parade and turned to the left. Behind him Ting-fang hissed, "You numbskull! You have made the wrong turn. Go back before it is too late!"
"It is too late now," said Han-sin. "We will go down this street."
People came running out of their houses to see the dragon. Han-sin’s grandparents and his mother were already seated before the house. Their faces lighted up with surprise and joy as the dragon swerved in their direction and bowed its head.
When they returned to the starting place Chang Tso-lin was waiting. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked.
"I told him!" shouted Ting-fang. "I told him to turn back."
"Anyone can make a mistake," said Tso-lin. "It is not too serious."
Han-sin swallowed hard. He could have let it go at that. But instead he softly said, "It was not a mistake, sir. I went the wrong way because I wanted my grandparents to see the dragon."
"Then you disobeyed. You must tell your father. He will give the proper punishment."
Han-sin bowed and started to walk home. He arrived soon after his father and the younger children.
"It was such a beautiful parade!" Mei-ling was saying. "We wish that you could have seen it."
"But we did," said Grandfather. "At least we saw the best part—Han-sin’s dragon."
"How was that possible?" asked Father. "The parade turned to the right."
"All but the last dragon," explained Han-sin. "I turned it down this street. But it was the wrong thing to do. Chang Tso-lin says I must be punished."
"He is right," agreed Father. "You will bring me the new kite."
"Yes, Father," said Han-sin. He went inside and brought out the beautiful new kite that swam in the sky like a fish.
His father took the kite and handed it to Shih-kai. "It is now yours," he said.
Shih-kai turned to his older brother. "Will you help me fly the kite?" he asked.
Han-sin nodded with a smile.

Teenage siblings, Latoya and Cruzze Sanderson, recently found comfort and answers to their questions as they met with missionaries and attended sacrament meetings and youth classes and activities.
Cruzze says, “Who I am now compared to where I was is a huge blessing from Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. [At my baptism], after I came out of the water, I felt refreshed, like a weight was lifted off my shoulders.”

After Oséias Portinari of Brazil was laid off at work, he spent more than two months searching for a new job. Unable to find a position, he volunteered at his local employment resource center in São Paulo. Helping others in their job searches offered Oséias an opportunity to improve his own interviewing and job search skills. He took the career workshop several times and eventually became an instructor. To his surprise, as he diligently served others, Oséias soon began to receive calls from prospective employers, which led to gainful employment.

Oséias is grateful for Church resources that give unemployed members a better vision of life. He says, “I know that as we put in effort, the Lord opens doors.”

We find one of the most touching stories of sacrifice, faith, and loving charity in the life of Jens Neilson, who was a member of the Willie Handcart Company. Jens, a relatively prosperous Danish farmer, heeded the call to bring his family to Zion. In Iowa he wrote that he had let all of his money go to the Church except enough to buy a handcart and stock it with 15 pounds of belongings per person. Jens wrote, “Obedience is better than sacrifice.” The people for whom Jens was responsible were himself; his wife, Elsie; their six-year-old son, Neils; and a nine-year-old girl, Bodil Mortensen, whom Jens offered to take to Utah. In the early Wyoming blizzard, temperatures plummeted below zero. The Neilsons had consumed their last pound of flour days before, but somehow they made it over the treacherous Rocky Ridge, urged on by their indomitable courage and unconquerable faith. Tragically, 13 of the company died at Rock Creek and were buried in shallow, snow-covered graves—among them, Jens and Elsie’s son, Neils, and young Bodil Mortensen.
President Hinckley describes this portion of the trail as “a trail of tragedy, a trail of faith, a trail of devotion, a trail of consecration, even the consecration of life itself.”
Jens arrived at Rock Creek, 11 miles beyond Rocky Ridge, with both feet frozen. He was unable to walk another step and pleaded with Elsie, “Leave me by the trail in the snow to die, and you go ahead and try to keep up with the company and save your life.” Elsie, with her unfaltering pioneer courage, replied, “Ride, I can’t leave you, I can pull the cart.” Such was the strength and the faith of many pioneer women on the trail.

Growing up, I always wanted a testimony of the Book of Mormon. But I had a hard time believing that the people, the events, and the miracles it describes were real. For a long time I prayed to Heavenly Father to help me know for myself that the Book of Mormon is true.
One Sunday, two of my friends taught a lesson about the scriptures and how they can help answer our most burning questions. They handed each of us a sheet titled “Emergency Contact Numbers.” It had 25 different situations on it, and next to each situation was a scripture. One of the lines caught my attention:
“For a testimony of the Book of Mormon, see Moroni 10:3–5.”
I flipped open to the scripture. It tells you that you can know the Book of Mormon is true by the power of the Holy Ghost if you read it and pray about it and that “by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things.”
A powerful, simple answer hit me. I hadn’t really read the Book of Mormon for myself! That was the reason I didn’t have a testimony of it.
Right when I got home, I sat down and started reading through my copy of the Book of Mormon. As I read about the people from ancient times, I could feel my testimony growing that they were real and that miracles really did happen to them.
Months later, when I finished the Book of Mormon, I felt so full of the Spirit. I know Heavenly Father sent me those “Emergency Contact Numbers” to help me when I needed an answer. I thank Him every day for my greater testimony, and I know that He’s just a prayer and a scripture away.

The New Era always seems to arrive at the time I need it most. I’d been through a particularly tough test one day, and when I arrived back at the house, there were three issues waiting to be read. You can’t imagine the happiness I felt. I immediately sat down and read all of them. It was like water to a thirsty soul. Being 8,000 miles from home, I enjoy the New Era more than ever. It is my “mission magazine.”
Elder William R. NelsonColombia Cali Mission

I think of that great immortal athlete, Babe Ruth, when I talk about the principle of success and particularly failure. Let me just share a little experience from his life.

It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon in the summer of 1927, and 35,000 wildly excited baseball fans packed Shibe Park. They were giving Babe Ruth the “razzberry”—and good! Lefty (Bob) Grove, one of the greatest left-handed pitchers of all time, had just struck out Babe Ruth on three consecutive pitched balls for the second successive time. Two runners were stranded on the bases.

As the great slugger returned to the bench, amidst wild and abusive jeering, he looked up into the stands with an unruffled smile, just as he did the first time, gave his cap a polite little tip from his perspiring brow, stepped down into the dugout, and calmly took a drink of water.

In the eighth inning, when he came up for his third time at bat, the situation was critical. The Athletics were leading the Yankees, 3–1. The bases were full and two were out. As Babe selected his favorite bat and started toward the plate, the crowd rose in a body, as if by signal. The excitement was tremendous!

“Strike ’im out again!” pleaded the fans to Grove. Strutting around the pitcher’s box, it was easy to see that the big southpaw believed he was just going to do that.

As the mighty batter took his position, the crowd became hysterical. There was a pause. Mickey Cochrane, the A’s great catcher, crouched to give the signal. Grove threw one with lightning speed. Ruth swung; it was a foul tip. “Str—ike one!” roared the umpire. Again the signal, and the pitch was too fast to follow. Again, Babe took that magnificent swing—and missed. “Stri—i-i-ke two!” was the call.

Ruth staggered and went down. He had literally swung himself off his feet. There was a cloud of dust as the big fellow sprawled on the ground. The crowd was going mad. Finally, regaining his feet, the “Bambino” brushed the dust off his trousers, dried his hands, and got set for the next pitch. Grove delivered the ball so fast not a single fan could see it. Babe swung—but this time he connected! It was only a split second before everybody seemed to realize what had happened. That ball was never coming back.

It disappeared over the scoreboard and cleared the houses across the street—one of the longest hits ever recorded.

As Babe Ruth trotted around the bases and across the plate behind the other runners—with what proved to be the winning run—he received a wild ovation from the crowd.

Ruth doffed his cap with that little smile, and the expression on his face was exactly like the one he wore on his first two trips, when he had gone down swinging.

Later in the season, after the Yanks clinched the American League pennant, Grantland Rice, interviewing the Babe, asked, “What do you do when you get in a batting slump?”

Babe replied: “I just keep goin’ up there and keep swingin’. I know the old law of averages will hold good for me the same as it does for anybody else, if I keep havin’ my healthy swings. If I strike out two or three times in a game, or fail to get a hit for a week, why should I worry? Let the pitchers worry; they’re the guys who’re gonna have to pay for it later on.”

This unshakable faith in making the law of averages work for him enabled Babe Ruth to accept his bad breaks and failures with a smile. This simple philosophy had much to do with making him baseball’s greatest slugger. His attitude of taking both good and bad in stride made him one of the game’s greatest heroes.

Why is it, when we read about great athletes or men in other professions, we are seldom told about their failures? For example, we now read of the amazing record of the immortal Babe Ruth, with his total of 714 home runs; but another unapproached world’s record of his is carefully buried, and that is that he struck out more times than any other player in history—1,330 times!

One thousand three hundred and thirty times he suffered the humiliation of walking back to the bench amidst jeers and ridicule. But he never allowed fear or discouragement or failure to keep him down.

Phil’s successes are all the more impressive for the fact that he’s a hemophiliac. “I’ve learned to look at it as a blessing to me,” Phil said. “It’s a mechanism the Lord uses to humble me.” Because of the illness, Phil has attended special camps for the handicapped, an experience that has helped him gain sympathy for other people’s problems. He tells of making friends with one fellow named Frank, who didn’t seem to be handicapped at all—in fact, Frank won the camp wrestling contest. Then one night as they were getting ready for bed, Phil discovered that his friend had wooden arms and wooden legs. “He had so much self-esteem that it really lifted me above my own problems,” Phil said. Phil also noted that his illness has provided him with an opportunity to witness the power of the priesthood through blessings and anointings during particularly trying times.

Brother Law has lived in our community for thirty-six years. For the past thirteen years, after his wife passed away, he has lived alone. He is a kind gentleman and a good neighbor, but just as his large garden and row of wild yellow rose bushes shield his house, there has been an unseen barrier between him and his neighbors.
The hand of fellowship, and an offer to include him in Church activities, has often been extended, but he has always politely but firmly refused.
The neighborhood children have always loved him, but a few months ago a special friendship grew between him and nine-year-old Jessica, who lives across the street.
Worried about his being lonesome, she often went to pay a visit. One day she noticed a Book of Mormon on his shelf. It was one left years ago by the missionaries. Jessica picked it up and announced that she was going to read to him some of her favorite scriptures.
Amused at first, Brother Law listened only to be nice to Jessica. Then the spirit of that great book began to warm his heart. He started looking forward to her reading it to him.
In the past when missionaries had come to his door, he had politely told them that he was not interested. But one day after Jessica had begun reading to him, the missionaries came again and he listened to them!
Jessica’s friend, Kristen, invited him to go to church with her family. As Sunday approached, however, he told her that he had nothing to wear and that he didn’t feel very well.
The following Sunday, Jessica invited him to join her family at church. When he again tried the excuse of nothing to wear, Jessica told him, “You can wear one of Daddy’s shirts.”
Brother Law chuckled—Jessica’s father’s shirts were several sizes larger than his.
Not one to give up, Jessica told her mom the problem, and the next week he was presented with an early Christmas present, a new white shirt. By this time he was running out of excuses, but he tried once more by telling Jessica he had no pants. She simply replied, “Oh, you can wear most any pants—just make sure they don’t have paint on them.”
He didn’t have a tie, either, but one of Dad’s was promptly produced, and they headed for the chapel. After seventy-one years of not going to church, Brother Law was very nervous. Once he was in the chapel, though, he felt warm and comfortable.
The next hurdle came when the missionaries approached him about baptism. He had decided the Church was a family church and so it was really no place for him.
The following Sunday one of the Relief Society sisters gave a talk at ward conference on how we are all brothers and sisters in the gospel. As she talked, the Spirit touched his heart and he realized that he really could be a part of the ward “family.” Besides, he recalled, all the children in the neighborhood were already calling him Grandpa or Brother Law.
This story has a wonderful ending, or should I say beginning. Today when you look at Brother Law, he literally glows with the Spirit. On April 10, 1994, he was baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Sister Elesha Angie Joseph McCaurley had reached the end of her pregnancy. Her daughter had already found a name for her little sister, and her husband was anxious to have a baby girl. Everyone took it very hard when the baby was stillborn.
“My husband is not a member and I have not been active for very long,” Sister Joseph said; so, trying to explain to her husband about attending the temple after such a recent loss was an interesting conversation in which her husband showed full support.
Hoping to baptize his baby, she had to explain that it was not necessary, because “all children who die before they arrive at the years of accountability are saved in the celestial kingdom of heaven.”1
However, an opportunity had arisen. “I’d like to be sealed,” Sister Joseph said. “When you get back, we’ll talk about it,” the husband replied. Sister Joseph visited the Santo Domingo Temple for the first time and returned home visibly excited.
Under the influence of the Holy Ghost and with tears of joy, she performed temple ordinances for herself and her two grandmothers, whom she loved deeply. This was not only her experience, but of two other sisters from St. Lucia, whose testimony was influenced by a desire to be an example to their sisters and children.
The Relief Society has always shown great interest in the progress of its members and in allowing the women of the Church to reach their greatest potential. As the Prophet Joseph Smith declared: “I now turn the key to you in the name of God and this Society shall rejoice and knowledge and intelligence shall flow down from this time—this is the beginning of better days to this Society.”2
“Being a single mother is difficult,” shares Sister Caren Wendy Constance Kennedy, a mother of two children, one fifteen years old and one thirty years old. “You have to become a force of nature to them.”
“I love the Lord. He is paramount in my life, and I will take the necessary steps to do the right thing. We all struggle to follow the right path, but it is a choice,” says Sister Constance, convinced that we must be committed to walk the covenant path. After attending the temple, she shared that she is stronger than ever. “As I watched the baptism on behalf of my deceased brother being performed, I felt chills of joy, I was happy,” she said.
The temple was no less impactful in the life of Sister Juliana E. St. Louis, first counselor of the Relief Society in St. Lucia, and a single mother of a twenty-two-year-old son. She never thought that her life would be changed forever when she wondered who those young men carrying boxes of food to people were.
“I fell in love with the Book of Mormon. I’ve read it over and over and over again,” says Sister St. Louis. Worship meetings provided her with another great impression of the Church. “People don’t know you and they embrace you. Now, coming to the temple has changed my life, my attitude. It has given me peace and, I can’t explain the feeling, the calmness one feels,” she says.