Gospel Story Finder

Sister June Beharrell of Shrewsbury Ward, Newcastle-under-Lyme England Stake, was named in the 2021 New Year’s Honours List and awarded the British Empire Medal for “services to charities”.
The medal was presented at Shrewsbury Castle on 18 May 2021 by the lord lieutenant of Shropshire, on behalf of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth ll. (About 300 British Empire Medals are presented every year after considering nominations made by members of the public, who hope to bring recognition to the outstanding service of individuals in their communities.)
After her husband, Gordon, was diagnosed with cancer and died, and following his fundraising efforts, Sister Beharrell and her family continued collecting for the Lingen Davies cancer charity, Severn Hospice (Shropshire), and other charities. Of Gordon she said, “He shouldn’t have been going to the Shrewsbury Market entrance hall to collect money at all, but he told me that if something was going to happen to him, at least he’d be doing something worthwhile”.
In 2009, shortly after Bro Beharrell’s passing, June records. “I was lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, but instead of shedding tears, I thought, ‘I am going to the market on Saturday, and I am going to collect for the Severn Hospice just as Gordon would have done.’”
From 2009, June continued to collect donations in Shrewsbury Market by sitting in the hall entrance from 9 am until 2:30 pm almost every Friday and Saturday, whatever the weather or temperature. In the winter, when the cold wind would blow through the entrance, June would take a rug to keep warm. In 2020, amidst the COVID-19 national lockdown, June was not able to collect in the market, so her family helped her set up an online fundraising account which proved very successful.
Now that things have been returning to normal, June has returned to the market to continue collecting donations. Kate Gittins, Shrewsbury’s market hall manager said: “The market’s customers love her; for some, she has become their confidante, for others, particularly those visiting the market for the first time, she provides a warm welcome with her charming smile and generosity of spirit.” The Shropshire Star reported that “her fundraising over the years has helped to fund the general running costs of the hospice and enhanced the care of thousands of people over the years.”
Professor Derek Willis, medical director at Severn Hospice says, “We need specialised mattresses, we need specialised beds, we need hoists to be able to move people, and to make sure their basic care is provided for. It’s such important work. It’s through the incredible generosity of people like June that we can do that. What a legacy! What an amazing thing to be known for.”
This humble and amazing 81-year-old sister has been taken a little by surprise by the attention. She has been contacted by the media and been interviewed live on BBC Radio Shropshire. When the email came in December 2020 officially notifying her of the British Empire Medal, she thought it was a scam, and had to ask one of her sons to check it out for her.
But this is not June’s only experience with celebrity status. In 2020 she was nominated for a civic award by the mayor of Shrewsbury for charitable services, which recognises those who have gone above and beyond. She received a certificate for being nominated. June has also received a long service award from the Severn Hospice. In 2013, June was invited to attend a royal garden party at Buckingham Palace in recognition of her charitable work.
June insists, “It’s the donors that deserve the credit” and “the members of my family who have all supported me”. She continues, “After Gordon’s death the family took over the collection and we are all in it together, my sons and grandchildren”. This has been a family affair: son Adam, helping with transport to and from Shrewsbury Market, and with collections; daughter-in-laws help with the safe depositing of donations; son Mathew running a full marathon to raise money in the UK and his brother John, cycling from London to Paris (via a ferry) to raise money; 9-year-old grandson Josh creating his My Marathon Challenge, which became known around the county of Shropshire, running a mile a day around the school sports field for 26 consecutive days, raising over £1,000.
Including the efforts started by Bro Gordon Beharrell who initially had raised over £130,000 for the Lingden Davis and Severn Hospice, the family collectively have raised over £211,000 for various charities. It has been hard to get clarity about the amounts raised by the family, as their focus has always been on the service given and not the amount raised.
June admits, “Service has always been part of my life. It’s in my blood”. She started to serve as she engaged in civic youth programmes when she was a young girl, starting as a Brownie, then on to being a Guide, and then a Ranger. As an adult, June has also been very active in the Church since her baptism in 1964, having had many opportunities to serve her fellow members through callings in Primary and Young Women. She has also served as a ministering sister throughout her Church membership. She was released in 2020 as the ward Relief Society president, at age 81!
About collecting for charity, June records; “It’s taught me a lot, sitting in the market. It’s taught me empathy, it’s given me the opportunity to serve, to show love and compassion to people. I love it because I see people who are kind. It’s all about caring, just like the Saviour. It doesn’t matter what colour you are, what religion you are. … when I’m collecting, people very often tell me when they have problems in their family. I’ve held people’s hands and cried with them.”
Through June’s service she has been an unwitting but natural missionary. She quietly explains about some who share that they, or other family members, are struggling with health or other issues. “They have known I am a member of the Church and have asked me if I would say a prayer for them.” When appropriate, she even asks some regular donors if they would like the names of their loved ones who are ill to be put on the Church’s temple prayer roll, which they enthusiastically agree too!
She says, “I have a testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It’s all about caring for others, just like the Saviour—seeking people out and helping them. And that’s what we do as a church. We’ve all got the opportunity sometimes in our lives to give love and friendship to other people, and I think I am very fortunate to do that.”

Finally, a covenant leader is one who is familiar with the character of Christ. They study His words, they pray in His name, and they follow Him. They listen to His voice, and they act, and above all they love others. Charity, which is the pure love of Jesus Christ, [15] is one of the greatest powers we can possess as covenant leaders. Recently, our son Jess related his experience with covenant leadership to me. In his words, he said,
One late Friday afternoon, I found myself rushing to the airport in Houston, Texas. I had been delayed in meetings and was running really late and racing to catch the last plane to Arizona before a busy family-filled weekend. I was driving a rental car and knew that I had to make a very quick stop at a gas station on the way in order to return the car filled with gas. I didn’t have time to stop but had to comply with the company policy and refuel the car.
Jess continues:
As I pulled into the gas station, I caught a slight glimpse of a man experiencing homelessness, sitting on the step at the entrance of the convenience store. I immediately dismissed this glimpse and the prompting of the Spirit. I convinced myself that I had to make this last flight and that this was my highest priority. So I filled the tank with gas, but when I pressed print receipt, the printer was not working. I could not believe my misfortune. I raced inside the store, passing this man again, and the prompting came with it. I asked the clerk for a receipt and raced out of the store and caught another glimpse of the gentleman. I caught myself saying in my mind; I can’t, I can’t stop, and I can’t engage with him at this time. I have to make this flight. So I got in my car to go but felt an undeniable prompting, and so to hold true to my covenant promise I had made to myself and God, I slowly walked out of my car and sat down next to this man.
I started by introducing myself and extending my hand, much to his surprise. He looked at me in astonishment. He never took his brown eyes off mine. I asked if he was safe and if there was anything I could do for him, and he told me his story. He had lost his employment, his identity, his source of fatherly pride and turned to drinking. Consequently, his wife left him and told him he was not welcome in their home. He found himself here at the convenience store sleeping under the bushes at night. He sobbed, his eyes never leaving mine. I asked, “Is there anything I can do to help you?” It was then he confided that he felt his life was no longer worth living. He continued, “Last night I resolved to end my life and then I was able to close my eyes but while sleeping, I had a dream. In my dream I found myself in the presence of God. He looked upon me and he knew my heart. And as he came toward me, he held open his arms, and he embraced me and he said; “Carlos, tomorrow I will send you a sign. And by this sign you will know that I love you, that you are my precious child, that your life is worth living and that I will be by your side.” In the dream, Carlos asked; “How will I know the sign when I see it?” And he replied, “I will send you a man with blue eyes and he will sit with you and he will listen to you and when you see him you will know. And then this dear man looked deeply into Jess’s eyes and said, “You are the man with the blue eyes.”
And they cried and they hugged and both felt the presence of the Savior.

In August 2020, amidst the throes of a pandemic, Len Hurley celebrated his 100th birthday and a lifetime of service—to his family, country, and fellow members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Victoria’s COVID-19 lockdown restrictions meant no visits from family or friends, however, staff at Len’s Bentleigh East nursing home made sure it was a special day for Len, decorating the hall with balloons and making a garden-themed birthday cake to share with fellow residents.
Len’s family joined in the celebrations via Zoom. Letters from the queen and prime minister were also presented to the centenarian.
When asked about the secret to his longevity, Len says living the health standards of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and staying active have been key.
“Live well, don’t drink, don’t smoke and learn to love work,” says Len.
Leonard Hurley was born in Murtoa, Victoria. He grew up on his family’s farm, where he worked hard and got up to plenty of mischief with his twin brother, Ken, and his younger brother, Russell.
When WWII broke out, Len and Ken were eager to serve and enlisted early. Len served in the 9th Division Cavalry (tanks) from 1938 to 1948, fighting in Egypt, El Alamein, Syria, and Borneo.
A member of the Church of England at the time, one of Len’s most unforgettable experiences in the Middle East was taking two days’ leave in Jerusalem.
His experiences at war quickly taught him the fragility and value of life. During one campaign, Len’s commander ordered him to fire on an Italian gunner. Len pressed the wrong button, bringing the tank to a stop. The men on the tank vacated and were eventually replaced by another group. Soon after, the Italian gunner hit the tank with a shell, killing everyone inside.
“It was a pretty nasty experience,” remembers Len. “I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t pressed that button.”
Grateful to have survived war in the Middle East, Len returned home and married May, the love of his life, in 1944.
“[May] used to work in a shop in Murtoa, close to where we lived,” says Len. “I always said to myself I’d marry her. Married life was beautiful.”
They had one daughter, Rhonda, in 1951 who tragically passed away as a young adult, leaving behind a daughter, Chantelle. Chantelle now lives in Len and May’s house with her partner and two children, Ky and Remi. She says her grandfather’s life has been one of service.
“He was always out doing things for other people,” says Chantelle. “I’m sure he’s painted almost everyone’s house at one time or another. He liked to work hard.”
Shortly after Rhonda passed away, Len and May found hope in the message brought to their door by missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“It’s made a big difference in our lives,” Len says. “I’ve missed going to Sunday meetings this year, but I listen to the recorded [Zoom] meetings every week.”
One of his most treasured experiences in the Church was serving as bishop of the Moorabbin ward for three and a half years.
“It was a choice experience to be considered worthy to serve as a bishop,” says Len.
Although he has experienced his share of loss, including the passing of his fellow veterans, brothers, wife, and daughter, Len continues to find joy in his relationships with his granddaughter and two great-grandchildren, friends, and church family.
He also stays active and enjoys his hobbies, which include cooking, gardening, keeping up with the footy (Australian rules football), writing in his journal every day, and reading.
“I feel very blessed to have had the life I’ve had,” reflects Len. “I enjoy life, good friends, keeping up with things as much as I can. Life’s worth living.”

I recall one late Sunday afternoon during my service as a bishop; I was leaving the chapel and felt prompted to visit the home of an inactive brother in the ward. His parents had called me from the mainland and later visited our ward in hopes of reactivating their son in church. A couple of attempts to visit this less activate brother were made by my counselor and myself, but to no avail. One time we went together, had a brief visit at the door, inviting him to church, and then left it at that. So, it had been about a month since our brief visit and suddenly I had this prompting to visit his home.

When I arrived he and his wife were emotionally distraught. They had decided their marriage was over. She had packed her belongings that day and booked a flight to return to her home country that night. I suddenly realized that I was sent to their home at that specific time to help this couple find hope in preserving what they felt was a hopeless marriage.

As I talked to them, I shared how much hope the gospel could bring into their lives if they would listen to and apply the teachings and principles. We were patient with each other as we discussed ways gospel principles could help strengthen their marriage. I committed them to have the missionaries teach them in their home. From that day and for several weeks they willingly met with me for counsel. He began attending church, she was soon baptized, and together they became active members of the ward.

What initiated this change was the hope and patience of a mother. I could only imagine that she had many tribulations in this experience of hoping for her son to become active. Many prayers had probably been offered for her son to return over the many years. I don’t remember her exact words when she first called and made a plea for help with her son, but I remember the compassion I felt for her. Although her son and his wife of a few years initially lacked patience in their relationship and felt little hope in maintaining their marriage, patience and hope were increased as they applied the principles of the gospel in their lives.

In 1965, Dr. Nelson was presented with an extraordinary opportunity to assume the position of professor of surgery and chairman of the Division of Thoracic and Cardiovascular Surgery at another major university. Included in the offer was a generous salary and an arrangement to pay fully for the college education of all his children when the time came.
The Nelsons were overwhelmed by this offer and were inclined to accept. But before making a decision that affected not only their family but also his service as stake president, he sought the counsel of President David O. McKay.
After hearing the details of the situation, President McKay closed his eyes, leaned back in his chair, and pondered the matter for some time. Then he said, “Brother Nelson, it doesn’t feel good to me. I don’t think you should go.”
“That was it,” says Dr. Nelson. “We declined their gracious offer with many thanks. And here we stayed.”

I will forever be grateful for a person who had the eyes to see a young, somewhat immature, recently returned missionary sophomore as something more than just a struggling first-generation college student. Having recently returned from my service in the Taiwan Taipei Mission in 1992 and while taking my first real statistics and mathematics classes, I found myself inside the office of our unofficial department advisor, Shauna Kuykendall. Shauna had an abundance of the gift to see the best in each individual with whom she came in contact. I remember talking with Shauna about classes in which I struggled, tests that went badly, and doubts about my abilities. Shauna kept telling me that she could see me someday becoming a faculty member at BYU. I remember thinking that was impossible! Faculty members were smart—and that wasn’t me. Despite my protests, Shauna confidently reiterated what she saw in me. And I could tell that she meant it.

All of us sometimes need someone with a bolder vision for our future than we have for ourselves. And we also all need to reciprocate that blessing—to cultivate the gift about which President Monson spoke of seeing in others and helping others see what they might yet become!

By that time, we were ready to continue proselyting indefinitely, but we had run out of nonmember friends whom we knew well enough to invite. Sometime later, after we had become good friends with about thirty nonmembers we repeated the same successful experience. Then we moved to Tucson, Arizona. After again making about thirty nonmember friends, we invited them to our home for the discussions. These two experiences with groups here were as successful as before. Again, about two-thirds accepted our invitation to participate in the lessons and of those about three-fourths accepted our invitation to be baptized. June, my wife, and I did the teaching in these groups, since by this time we had been called on stake missions. Had we not been missionaries for the Church, however, we would have again sought the help of full-time missionaries.

When Jennifer and I were newly married and attending school in Logan, Utah we were faced with a choice. We could attend the resident ward based on where we lived or we could attend a married student ward. Honestly, I can't tell you now any of the items we discussed as we considered our choice. But in hindsight, we made the right decision for us.

In our married student ward we had a bishopric and a stake presidency who were focused on providing experiences to us as young married students that would shape the rest of our lives. We received service opportunities accompanied by excellent training. Our bishop emphasized planting our roots and being in the ward on Sunday fulfilling our callings rather than looking for chances to be other places. Sure, there are appropriate reasons to be away occasionally. But as we took the challenge we realized this principle doesn't only apply to our Sundays and our church meetings, but also to our family and home life.

This and similar patterns of behavior, where we are regularly found where we should be and doing what we should be doing, speak to commitment, diligence, and being "steadfast and immovable."[8] Establishing these patterns can provide an anchor in a harbor when the winds of life blow.

A few weeks after the temple dedication, Louisa Pratt and her daughters started west with a company of Saints. Ellen was now fourteen, Frances was twelve, Lois was nine, and Ann was five. They had two yoke of oxen, two cows, and a wagon loaded with new clothes and provisions.

Before crossing the river into Iowa, Louisa called at the post office and found a long letter from Addison dated January 6, 1846—five months earlier. Addison reported that he was now in Tahiti with some Tubuaian friends, the married couple Nabota and Telii, on their way to help his fellow missionary Benjamin Grouard with missionary work on the nearby Anaa atoll. He had sent Louisa sixty dollars and loving words for her and the children.

Addison expected to serve among the island Saints for many years to come, but not without his family. “If you can get any books,” he wrote, “and have any leisure time, I think you and the children had better attend to the studying of the Tahitian language, for in my opinion you may have use for it within a few years.”32

The letter pleased Louisa, and she found her journey west surprisingly joyful. The spring rains had ended, and she liked riding horseback beneath clear skies while a hired man drove her wagons. She rose early every morning, gathered up stray cattle, and helped to drive them during the day. Occasionally she worried about how far she was traveling from her parents and other relatives, but her belief in Zion comforted her. The revelations spoke of Zion as a place of refuge, a land of peace. That was what she wanted in her life.

“Sometimes I feel cheerful,” she wrote in her journal on June 10. “The Lord has called us, and appointed us a place where we can live in peace and be free from the dread of our cruel persecutors!”33

Five days later, Louisa and her company arrived at Mount Pisgah, one of two large way stations the Saints had established along the Iowa trail. The encampment hugged the base of some low, sloping hills crowned with a grove of oak trees. As Brigham had envisioned, the Saints there lived in tents or log cabins and cultivated crops to supply food for companies who would arrive later. Other areas of the camp provided pastureland for the livestock.

Louisa selected a site in the shade of some oak trees for her family. The place was beautiful, but overhead the sun beat down on the encamped Saints, many of whom were exhausted from the rain and mud they had battled that spring.

“May the Lord reward them for all their sacrifices,” Louisa thought.34
Farther ahead on the trail, Brigham and the Camp of Israel stopped at a place called Mosquito Creek, not far from the Missouri River. They were hungry, two months behind schedule, and desperately poor.35 Yet Brigham still insisted on sending an advance company over the Rocky Mountains. He believed that a group of Saints needed to finish the journey that season, for as long as the Church wandered without a home, its enemies would try to scatter it or block its way.36

Brigham knew, however, that outfitting such a group would strain the Saints’ resources. Few had money or provisions to spare, and Iowa provided limited opportunities for paid labor. To survive on the prairie, many Saints had sold prized possessions along the trail or worked odd jobs to earn money for food and supplies. As the camp moved west and settlements thinned, these opportunities would only become harder to find.37

Other matters also weighed on Brigham. The Saints who did not belong to the advance company needed a place to spend the winter. The Omahas and other Native peoples who inhabited the land west of the Missouri River were willing to let the Saints camp there over the winter, but government agents were reluctant to allow them to settle on protected Indian lands for a long period of time.38

Brigham also knew the sick and impoverished Saints in Nauvoo were depending on the Church to take them west. For a time, he had hoped to assist them by selling valuable property in Nauvoo, including the temple. But so far this effort had been unsuccessful.39

On June 29, Brigham learned that three officers from the United States Army were coming to Mosquito Creek. The United States had declared war on Mexico, and President James Polk had authorized the men to recruit a battalion of five hundred Saints for a military campaign to the California coast.
The next day, Brigham discussed the news with Heber Kimball and Willard Richards. Brigham had no quarrel with Mexico, and the idea of helping the United States galled him. But the West could become American territory if the United States won the war, and assisting the army could improve the Saints’ relationship with the nation. More important, the enlisted men’s pay could help the Church fund its westward migration.40

Brigham spoke with the officers as soon as they arrived. He learned that their orders had come after Thomas Kane, a well-connected young man on the East Coast, had heard about the Saints’ plight and introduced Jesse Little to important officials in Washington, DC. After some lobbying, Jesse had met with President Polk and persuaded him to help the Saints move west by enlisting some of them in military service.

Seeing the benefits of the arrangement, Brigham endorsed the orders wholeheartedly. “This is the first offer we have ever had from the government to benefit us,” he declared. “I propose that the five hundred volunteers be mustered, and I will do my best to see all their families brought forward, as far as my influence can be extended, and feed them when I have anything to eat myself.”41

Drusilla Hendricks was furious with Brigham’s decision to cooperate with the United States. Her husband, James, had been shot in the neck during a skirmish with Missourians in 1838, leaving him partially paralyzed. Like others in camp, she still resented the government for not helping the Saints at that time. Even though her son William was old enough to volunteer for the battalion, she did not want to let him join. With her husband’s paralysis, she depended on her son for help.42

Recruiters visited the camp daily, often with Brigham or other apostles. “If we want the privilege of going where we can worship God according to the dictates of our conscience,” Brigham testified, “we must raise the battalion.”43 Many Saints swallowed their resentment and supported the endeavor, but Drusilla could not bear parting with her son.

Sometimes the Spirit whispered to her, “Are you afraid to trust the God of Israel? Has He not been with you in all your trials? Has He not provided for your wants?” She would acknowledge God’s goodness, but then she would remember the government’s cruelty, and her anger would return.

On the day of the battalion’s departure, William rose early to bring in the cows. Drusilla watched him as he walked through the tall, wet grass, and she worried that her lack of faith would do him more harm than good. He could get hurt traveling on the trail with his family just as easily as he could marching with the battalion. And if that happened, she would regret having made him stay.

Drusilla started breakfast, unsure what to do about William. Climbing onto the wagon to get flour, she again felt the Spirit’s whisper: Didn’t she want the greatest blessings of the Lord?

“Yes,” she said aloud.

“Then how can you get it without making the greatest sacrifice?” the Spirit asked. “Let your son go in the battalion.”

“It is too late,” she said. “They are to be marched off this morning.”

William returned, and the family gathered for breakfast. As James blessed the food, Drusilla was startled when a man interrupted the camp. “Turn out, men!” he shouted. “We lack some men yet in the battalion.”

Drusilla opened her eyes and saw William staring at her. She studied his face, memorizing each feature. She knew then that he would join the battalion. “If I never see you again until the morning of the resurrection,” she thought, “I shall know you are my child.”

After breakfast, Drusilla prayed alone. “Spare his life,” she pleaded, “and let him be restored to me and to the bosom of the Church.”

“It shall be done unto you,” the Spirit whispered, “as it was unto Abraham when he offered Isaac on the altar.”

Drusilla searched for William and found him sitting in the wagon, his head buried in his hands. “Do you want to go with the battalion?” she asked. “If you do, I have had a testimony that it is right for you to go.”

“President Young said it is for the salvation of this people,” William said, “and I might as well have a hand in it as anyone.”

“I have held you back,” Drusilla said, “but if you want to go, I shall hold you no longer.”44

Kevin watched as his older brother and sister got ready to go to the temple to do baptisms for the dead. Kevin wanted to go too.
Dad, can I go?
You’re not old enough yet, but I’m glad that you want to serve. When you turn 12, you can go too.
Kevin helped his sister pack her bag. Then he helped his brother pick out a tie.
They left, and Kevin stayed home with Mom and his baby sister, Erin.
When Erin cried, Kevin gave her a teddy bear. When she fell, Kevin helped her up.
I know Heavenly Father is happy with the way you are serving Him today.
But I didn’t go to the temple.
Yes, but you helped your brother and sister get ready. And you are helping me take care of Erin.
When you help other people, you serve Heavenly Father.

Mark and I faced several trials in the following months. After returning to the Philippines for my wife’s funeral, I lost my job. I sold our car to pay Monina’s hospital bills. Plus, Mark and I had to adjust to life without Monina. Despite the adversity, Mark and I found hope in our newfound faith, and we were baptized in April 2008. In the months that followed, I was able to find another job and pay the hospital bills. Mark and I made a goal to attend our branch trip to the Manila Philippines Temple so we could be sealed together as a family.
After saving all our extra income and preparing ourselves spiritually, Mark and I traveled with our branch to the temple in May 2009. As we prepared for the trip, we saw firsthand the destructive hand of the adversary as well as the strengthening and uplifting love of our Heavenly Father. I got extremely sick the day before we were scheduled to leave for the temple. Some members had unexpected immigration problems, while others had trouble obtaining passports. Our friends who introduced my family to the gospel, the Espinosas, lost their jobs the week we were scheduled to attend the temple. Even worse, a member of our branch presidency who was scheduled to attend the temple for the first time lost his father to a sudden illness three days before our trip. But in the end the Lord strengthened each of us and made it possible for 42 members of the branch to attend the temple. Sixteen of us attended for the first time.
May 13, 2009, is a day I will never forget. When I arrived at the temple, the weight and pain of my wife’s death immediately vanished. Although I was initially nervous about the temple because I didn’t know exactly what to do or where to go, I was struck by the calm, peaceful presence I felt once I stepped inside. It was very different from the busy streets just outside the temple doors.
As the day progressed, my temple experience became only more meaningful and more powerful. In the morning our branch participated in baptisms for the dead. As I watched, I found myself thinking of my wife, who a year and a half earlier had expressed her desire to be baptized. I then witnessed the fulfillment of that desire as a friend was baptized for and in behalf of Monina.
The most significant portion of my trip, however, came later that afternoon when I walked into the sealing room. My wife and I were married years ago, but we were not married in the temple by Heavenly Father’s priesthood authority. When my wife died, I thought I had lost her forever. But as I met with the missionaries, I learned that in the temple, families can be sealed together for eternity.
As I walked into the sealing room at the Manila Temple, I was overcome with emotion. Ever since my baptism, I had known the blessings of the gospel were real, but in that instant I truly witnessed their worth. As Mark and I knelt at the altar to be sealed as a family, I felt my wife’s presence. I could hear her voice, and it was as if I were holding her hand. I felt Monina’s presence with every feeling in my heart. I knew then that we were an eternal family.

In 1887 Hungarian Mischa Markow was converted near Constantinople (Istanbul), Turkey. In 1899 he served as a missionary in his native land, but he was arrested and banished from Hungary because of his preaching. He tried to share the gospel in neighboring countries, but after having difficulties there, Elder Markow and his companion preached in Temesvár, Hungary, until the government forced them to leave. The day before they left, they baptized and confirmed 12 people and appointed leaders for a congregation of 31 members.

Henry walked up to the man named Amos. He had a snarly red beard, and he wasn’t smiling.
“Excuse me?” Henry said in a small voice. He felt nervous but remembered that the freight master had said Amos was a good man.
“What do you want?” Amos growled.
“I … I heard you could take me to Utah,” Henry stammered.
“I don’t take passengers,” Amos said. “I run a business.”
“I’ll work my way,” Henry said.
Amos laughed. “What work could a boy like you do?”
“I can do lots of things!” Henry said.
Amos scratched his beard. “Do you know anything about horses?” he asked.
“Yes, sir,” Henry answered. “My papa worked on a big estate in England, and I helped him with the horses all the time.”
“Is that so?” Amos smiled. He jerked his thumb at two horses tied to the back of the wagon. “Let’s see you hitch up Old Buck and Rufus.”
Henry walked over to the horses, patted their noses, and talked softly to them. Without any difficulty, he led them to the wagon and fastened the harnesses.
“Well, I’ll be hornswaggled! Old Buck’s usually cranky with strangers. You might be handy to have along after all,” Amos said. “Climb in the wagon and let’s go.”
Amos was fun to travel with. He told interesting stories and listened to Henry talk about life in England.
But the trip was hard work too! Henry took care of the horses, gathered firewood, and carried water. He helped Amos hunt for dinner. When they couldn’t catch anything, they ate beef jerky and dried apples. At night they slept under the wagon.
After many weeks Henry spotted the tops of mountains against the bright blue sky. “The Utah Territory is just on the other side,” Amos said.
When Henry got his first look at the land that would be his new home, he was surprised. It was nothing like the big cities or bright green fields he had left behind in England.
“Are you sure this is Utah?” Henry asked. “Maybe we took a wrong turn.”
Amos just chuckled.
Henry said goodbye to Amos in a town called Castle Gate and bought one last train ticket. Before he knew it, the train was hissing to a stop at the Salt Lake City depot. Henry jumped onto the wooden platform with a smile. He had made it!
Or had he? Henry quickly realized that he still didn’t know how to find his cousins. He started asking people if they knew the Lowe family. His stomach growled, and he shivered as the sun faded away.
Finally, he saw a man riding directly toward him.
“Henry? My name is George Lowe,” the man said, sticking out his hand. “My family will be so happy to meet you! Climb in the wagon. You must be exhausted.”
That night Henry had a warm bed and good food. He was soon able to go to church. Utah started to feel like home.
It was a whole year before Henry’s father came to Utah. Then his mother and two brothers followed. Finally his older sister arrived.
Each of them had a different journey, and Henry was grateful that Heavenly Father had protected them all. They were together again at last!

Several years ago I taught a beautiful dance education student named Michelle. Michelle had a difficult home life. Her parents had divorced, her father had not maintained contact, and she and her mother had a tenuous relationship. Sometimes Michelle confided in me, expressing deep yearning to feel her parents’ love. As if these challenges were not enough, Michelle was diagnosed with a relentless form of cancer, and the crucible of illness took command of her body. The cancer treatments robbed Michelle of her beautiful, white-blond hair, and, in spite of aggressive treatments, she grew steadily weaker.

But even as her physical body weakened, a transformation of another kind was taking place: Michelle’s very countenance began to change. Although she had previously been reserved and shy, Michelle began to radiate joy and goodness. It was not uncommon to see her somewhere within the halls of the Richards Building, her shiny bald head tied with a big pink bow and her smile the size of Texas! Rather than succumbing to self-pity and fear, Michelle chose to fill her days with joy and laughter, surrounded by those she loved most.

Not long before her death, she told me that, to her amazement and joy, the circumstances of her illness had initiated a healing process for her fractured family. Michelle had placed her trust in the hands of God and was rewarded with the ability to live out her remaining days with a heightened sense of happiness and love. Though she did not find physical healing, Michelle found the spiritual healing and profound joy that come only through Jesus Christ’s healing Atonement.

The morning is quiet. On his way out of the house to feed the horses, Brother Gines glances at the shelves of trophies and stops. He stands there, silent, silhouetted against the early morning light, looking at Neal’s basketball trophy and remembering the long hours Neal practiced to prove that he wasn’t clumsy. As he stands there, he recollects the times he and Neal have spent together.

“Back when Neal was younger, we milked the neighbor’s cows. It was Neal’s job, but I went anyway, figuring that it was important to be with him. We talked about horses and football and bulldogging and the Church. We grew closer together, understanding each other, becoming best friends.

“When Neal started bulldogging, I became the hazer (the one who guides the steer in a straight line). It’s kind of symbolic, both of us coming out together, with me hazing to keep the steer from running wild so Neal can grab him and throw him to the ground. We work well together, we’ve done it for so long. I can tell if Neal is hurt, how bad it is, whether it is just another scrape to add to his scars, or whether the horns have dug deeper this time. I never say much, but I’m right there.

“As Neal grew older, we didn’t stop doing things together. My wife teases us about being inseparable, but a father likes to know that his son wants to spend time with his old dad,” Brother Gines adds with a smile.

On cool fall nights they work outside together, joking, trying to hurry and get the wood stacked so they can go in and eat. They spend long hours hauling hay; taking trips to the saw mill to gather shavings so the animals can have the “softest beds”; walking quietly through the just-fallen snow, tracking down pheasants; going downtown to get a malt. They are still inseparable, still best friends.

“Need some help feeding the horses, dad?” Neal asks as he walks into the room.
Brother Gines turns to see Neal all dressed, ready to help. “Sure,” he replies.
Together they walk out into the bright morning.

Oripa lives in the Fiji islands. A few years ago she wanted more than anything in all the world to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Her big sister was a member of the Church, and Oripa asked her parents if she could be baptized too, but they refused.
Finally, however, when Oripa was ten years old, her prayers were answered. She was so happy when she was confirmed a member of the Church she just couldn’t stop crying tears of happiness. Oripa knew that our Heavenly Father would bless her.
Oripa worked hard and did her best at home and at school. All the children of Fiji in class 6 were given their intermediate examination. When the tests were graded, Oripa had the highest mark of any child in her grade in all of Fiji.
That night when her big sister came home, she kissed Oripa and congratulated her for doing so well on the test. When her proud parents asked Oripa about the examination, she explained that she knew this was a blessing from our Heavenly Father because she had joined His Church.

I grew up in a comfortable environment in Logan, Utah. I had no childhood worries about food or shelter or education. But perhaps because life was easy, I needed something to hold on to that would anchor me.
For me that anchor was the priesthood of God. I was in an unusual situation when I was growing up. My dad was called to be the bishop when I was a year old, and he was my bishop for 19 years. His fatherly and spiritual guidance was a tremendous help to me.
I think that is mostly why I looked forward to receiving the Aaronic Priesthood on my 12th birthday. I remember the special day I felt my father’s hands on my head as he ordained me. After that, I advanced through the offices of the Aaronic Priesthood and received callings I enjoyed very much.
Passing the sacrament was very special to me. You could see people commit themselves to obey the Lord and keep His commandments as they partook of the emblems of His body and blood.
As time progressed, I graduated from high school, and then after a year in college, I was called on a mission. I enjoyed every minute of it and loved my companions. One in particular was a strength to me. I learned much from him as we fulfilled our responsibilities.
Because the country was at war, when I returned from my mission I joined the United States Marine Corps. When the war was over, I returned to college, married, and started a family. Successive professional moves took me to many places across the United States, where I learned much as I served in many priesthood callings. I finally landed in Boston, Massachusetts, where I served as a stake president. It was from there that I was called to be an assistant to the Twelve and then, after 17 months, to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
What have I learned as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve?
I’ve learned that there is a guide, an anchor, and a protection in the priesthood.
The priesthood has always existed. Before Adam came to earth, he had the priesthood. As Adam’s posterity scattered with the priesthood, it became necessary to organize how the priesthood was administered. The Lord did that by calling Abraham to preside over his family of priesthood holders. This organization continued under Isaac and Jacob, whose name was later changed to Israel.
Centuries later, the children of Israel found themselves in captivity. The Lord sent Moses to deliver them, but when he did, they proved themselves not ready as a people for the Melchizedek Priesthood. So they were left with the Aaronic Priesthood until the time of the Savior.
I find it very interesting what the Savior did first as He began His ministry. He organized the Melchizedek Priesthood. He called twelve Apostles and taught them the laws and order of the priesthood. He called Peter to be the chief Apostle, establishing a line of authority in His Church. In that day and this, it is Jesus Christ who selects His chief Apostle to preside over the Church, and it is the Savior who directs him in his priesthood duties.
So the priesthood has a direct line from our Lord and Savior through the chief Apostle to the other Apostles and on to the other priesthood holders in the Church. Keys of authority are given to the Apostles, and as long as those keys are on the earth, we will be guided by the Lord Himself. This divine direction protects us and assures us that the Church will not vary from the truth. It will remain consistent because it is not directed by any earthly being. It is directed by the Lord.
The greatest advice I have for you young men is to study the doctrines of the priesthood, understand the power you have in exercising your priesthood, and learn how it can bless your lives and the lives of others.
I promise if you’ll learn the doctrines of the priesthood and fulfill your priesthood duties, the priesthood will be a sure anchor that will keep you spiritually safe and bring you great joy. Be a true priesthood quorum. Reach out to your friends and bring them into your quorum. Create a brotherhood in your quorum that will be a permanent foundation for your lives.

Several weeks after I was baptized, I had the privilege of receiving a witness of the Holy Ghost once again, stronger than before. One morning at about 3:00 A.M., I sat up in bed with tears streaming down my face. The Holy Ghost was bearing such a powerful witness to me of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and of the Church that I felt like saying, “Please, Lord, no more, no more. I know it’s true.”

Dear brothers and sisters, I join with you in expressing my love and sustaining support to President Eyring and his family. President Hinckley extended this call to serve in the Quorum of the Twelve late Thursday afternoon. I cannot possibly articulate the kaleidoscope of feelings I have experienced since then. There have been sleepless nights and much prayer. My spirits have been buoyed, however, by the knowledge that President Hinckley is the prophet and that the membership of the Church will be praying for me and my family.
To say that I feel deeply inadequate would be an understatement. When I was called as a General Authority in April of 1996, I also felt unequal to the calling. Elder Neal A. Maxwell reassured me then that the most important qualification for all of us serving in the kingdom is to be comfortable in bearing witness of the divinity of the Savior. A peace came over me at that time and has stayed with me since because I love the Savior and have had spiritual experiences that allow me to testify of Him. I rejoice in the opportunity to bear witness of Jesus Christ in all the world (see D&C 107:23), notwithstanding my inadequacies.
In Doctrine and Covenants 68, verses 5 and 6, we read:
“Behold, this is the promise of the Lord unto you, O ye my servants.
“Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come.”
I seek the companionship of the Holy Ghost as I speak with you this Sabbath morning.
The overwhelming feeling that I have in receiving this call is that we must live by faith and not by fear. In 2 Timothy, the Apostle Paul references the faith of Timothy’s grandmother Lois and his mother, Eunice. Paul writes:
“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7).
In my own case, I respectfully acknowledge ancestors now on the other side of the veil who gave everything asked of them to build the kingdom of God upon the earth.
I am grateful that all my life I have been surrounded by those who love the Savior. My heart is full of appreciation for my family. My wife, Mary, has been the joy of my life. Her spiritual strength, righteous example, sense of humor, and loving support have blessed me throughout my life. Our three children and their spouses have been sources of great personal satisfaction and, together with our nine grandchildren, have been such a blessing to us. Their faith and prayers and the goodness of their lives have been a great comfort to Mary and me.
When I think back to my youth in Logan, Utah (Elder Perry’s fabled Cache Valley), I realize how fortunate I was to be reared in a goodly home—to have a righteous mother who was full of faith, a loving father, an older brother who has been an extraordinary example to me as well as a friend and counselor, and a younger sister who has been loving and supportive. How fortunate also to have had talented and devoted Church leaders, teachers, coaches, and friends who were wonderful examples to me.
As a young man I had the opportunity to serve in the British Mission, which was a seminal, defining event in my life. The influence of a valiant mission president is one of the great miracles of the restored gospel. A few weeks ago I received a birthday card at Church headquarters from a woman I helped teach in Gloucester, England, many years ago. I had lost contact with her. She informed me that she and her husband are both very active members and have 6 children and 20 grandchildren, all born in the covenant. It may be the best birthday card I have ever received.
Mary and I left Utah so I could attend law school in Palo Alto, California. We were planning to return to Utah after graduation, but the Spirit directed that we stay in California. We lived in California for 33 years and raised our family there. We both had many opportunities to serve. We loved the diversity of the members and their commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I will be eternally grateful for the wonderful Latter-day Saints in California who have been such a positive influence in my life.
These last 11 1/2 years of service as a Seventy have been truly rewarding ones. As I leave that quorum, I want my fellow Brethren to know of my love and appreciation for their dedication and loyalty to the kingdom of God on the earth—for their faithfulness and good works. I want them to know of the joy it has been to serve with them.
I love the Brethren we sustain as prophets, seers, and revelators with all my heart. I’ve tried to serve honorably and lighten their responsibilities in any way I could. I’m grateful to the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve for their lives of goodness and example, their patience, their teaching, their kindness, their devotion to our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, and His restored gospel. I am grateful that God called Joseph Smith to be a prophet through whom the fulness of the gospel was restored to earth.
My experience as a General Authority has filled my heart with appreciation for the faith and goodness of the Latter-day Saints all over the world. We served for two years in the Philippines. In April of 1961, President Hinckley, then an Assistant to the Twelve, sent the first missionaries to Manila. There was only one Filipino priesthood holder in the Philippines. Today there are almost 600,000 members. Their lives are not easy, and they lack many material things, but they love the Savior. The gospel is having a tremendous impact in improving their lives. What a blessing to serve in their midst.
We also served for three years in the Pacific Islands. It is significant that almost 25 percent of all the Polynesians in the world are members of the Church. Their faith and spirituality are legendary. Sister Cook and I were in Vava‘u in the Tongan islands on one occasion. I had just spoken about following the prophet in the general session of stake conference. At the luncheon following the conference, I sat next to a distinguished elderly patriarch. He indicated how grateful he was to hear what the prophet was teaching. He gave me the following account. Vava‘u, which is a relatively small island, usually has sufficient rain, but periodically there are severe droughts. The island has long inlets or bays, almost like sounds, which curl into the island below steep hills. When drought conditions left the village without water, there was only one way they could obtain fresh water and stay alive. Over the centuries they had found that fresh water traveled down through rock formations inside the mountains and came up in a few spots in the sea.
The Tongan men would set off in their small boats with a wise elder standing at one end of the boat looking for just the right spot. The strong young men in the boat stood ready with containers to dive deep into the seawater. When they reached the appropriate spot, the wise man would raise both arms to heaven. That was the signal. The strong young men would dive off the boat as deep as they could and fill the containers with fresh springwater. This old patriarch likened this lifesaving tradition to the living waters of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the wise man to God’s prophet here on earth. He noted that the water was pure, fresh, and, in their drought condition, lifesaving. But it was not easy to find. It was not visible to the untrained eye. This patriarch wanted to know everything the prophet was teaching.
We live in a precarious time. The world is in desperate need of the fresh springwater, which is the gospel of Jesus Christ. We should listen intently to the prophet as we make choices. My own informal records indicate that President Hinckley has continually emphasized faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That has been followed by his emphasis on strengthening families and having family religious observance in the home. Over and over again he has told us that if we would live a principle, we would gain a testimony of the truthfulness of that principle, which would in turn increase our faith.
I know that many of you are concerned about raising your children during these difficult times and increasing their faith. When my wife and I were starting our family in the San Francisco Bay area, we had that same concern. At a critical point our stake members were advised by Elder Harold B. Lee, then a member of the Twelve, that we could raise our families in righteousness if we would:
Follow the prophet.
Create the true spirit of the gospel in our hearts and homes.
Be a light to those among whom we live.
Focus on the ordinances and principles taught in the temple. (See D&C 115:5; Harold B. Lee, “Your Light to Be a Standard unto the Nations,” Ensign, Aug. 1973, 3–4.)
As we followed this counsel, our faith increased and our fears decreased. I believe we can raise righteous children anywhere in the world if they are taught religious principles in the home.
One area where members can live by faith and not by fear is in our missionary effort. Prior to my call to the Presidency of the Seventy on August 1 of this year, I had served in the Missionary Department for six years, the last three years as Executive Director under Elder M. Russell Ballard, who served as Chairman of the Missionary Executive Council.
Some mission presidents informed us that many wonderful members are in camouflage to their neighbors and coworkers. They do not let people know who they are and what they believe. We need much more member involvement in sharing the message of the Restoration. Romans 10, verse 14, puts this into perspective:
“How then shall they call on him [speaking of the Savior] in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?”
Verse 15 contains the wonderful message referenced in Isaiah:
“How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings” (see also Isaiah 52:7).
It has been observed that the members are going to have to move their feet and let their voices be heard if they are to achieve this blessing.
Preach My Gospel: A Guide to Missionary Service was first introduced in October 2004. President Hinckley commenced this effort when he called for missionaries to learn the doctrine and to teach the principles by the Spirit. Every member of the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve participated to a significant degree. Elder Ballard and I felt that the windows of heaven were opened and the Lord’s inspiration poured out to bring forth this great resource. Over 1.5 million copies of Preach My Gospel have been acquired by the members of the Church. It is a wonderful foundation, and the missionaries are powerful, spiritual teachers. However, if we are to accomplish what President Hinckley has requested, the members, living by faith and not by fear, need to share the gospel with their friends and associates.
In our individual callings we need to have faith and not be fearful.
Our daughter, Kathryn, is serving as the Primary president in her ward in Salt Lake City. My wife and I attended her ward last Sunday to observe the Primary sacrament meeting presentation, “I’ll Follow Him in Faith.” I was thrilled to hear the children recite scriptures and stories coupled with songs focused on faith in Christ.
After the meeting I asked her about her calling. She said that initially the calling weighed her down. Much time was spent going over problems. Then the presidency decided to emphasize love, faith, and prayer. Suddenly spiritual impressions came to mind about a particular child or family. Friction was replaced with love. She tells me that as they acted upon promptings from the Spirit, Primary reflected a reverence and peace, and real gospel learning was taking place.
It is our faith in Jesus Christ that sustains us at the crossroads of life’s journey. It is the first principle of the gospel. Without it we will spin our wheels at the intersection, spending our precious time but getting nowhere. It is Christ who offers the invitation to follow Him, to give Him our burden, and to carry His yoke, “for [His] yoke is easy, and [His] burden is light” (Matthew 11:30).
There is no other name under heaven whereby man can be saved (see Acts 4:12). We must take upon us His name and receive His image in our countenance so that when He comes we will be more like Him (see 1 John 3:2; Alma 5:14). When we choose to follow Christ in faith rather than choosing another path out of fear, we are blessed with a consequence that is consistent with our choice (see D&C 6:34–36).
May we all recognize and give thanks for the incomparable gift of life we each enjoy and for the breath that He lends us daily. May we choose to have conviction at the crossroads of life and exercise faith in Jesus Christ. My prayer is that we will live by faith and not by fear. I bear my witness of God, who is our Heavenly Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ, who atoned for our sins, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

It was Christmas morning and my six-year-old little brother, Andrew, was the first one to sneak out of bed. When I woke up and went looking for him a little while later, I couldn’t believe what I found. There he was, under the tree, having just opened all of my presents!
Mom and Dad were still asleep in bed. So was my baby sister. Right then, it was just Andrew, me, and my opened Christmas gifts. As I watched him play with a model airplane that I now wouldn’t get to open, I became angry. My Christmas was ruined!
As my anger grew, I decided that I really needed to stop and pray for help to not be mad. So I did. Almost immediately, I felt a little calmer. Then I looked at Andrew more closely, and a funny thing happened. That huge grin on his face made me smile too. I mean, he was so happy! Then I couldn’t help it. I started laughing! Before long the whole thing felt hilarious. I mean, how could I stay angry with my little brother when he was so excited?
That Christmas morning, I learned the importance of stopping to pray whenever bad feelings start to develop. After all, Christmas is supposed to be a happy holiday, not an angry one.