Gospel Story Finder

I have seen that same heart in the Saints of the Pacific. In a small village on one of these islands, an older man and his wife accepted the invitation of the missionaries to sincerely ask the Lord if the lessons they were being taught were true. In this process, they also considered the consequences of the commitments that they would need to make if the answer that they received led to their accepting the restored gospel. They fasted and prayed to know the truthfulness of the Church and the veracity of the Book of Mormon. The answer to their prayers came in the form of a sweet but ringing affirmation: “Yes! It is true!”

Having received this witness, they chose to be baptized. This was not a choice without personal cost. Their decision and baptism carried with them a high price. They lost employment, they sacrificed social standing, important friendships dissolved, and the support, love, and respect of family were withdrawn. They now walked to church each Sunday, exchanging awkward glances with friends and neighbors who were walking in the opposite direction.

In these difficult circumstances, this good brother was asked how he felt about their decision to join the Church. His simple and unwavering reply was “It is true, isn’t it? Our choice was clear.”

These two newly converted Saints truly had the heart of the widow. They, like the widow, “cast in all” that they could give, knowingly giving of their “want.” As a product of their believing hearts and enduring faith during those hard times, their burdens were lightened. They were aided and surrounded by supportive and ministering Church members, and they were personally strengthened by their service in Church callings.

After they cast in their “all,” the greatest day came when they were sealed in the temple as an eternal family. Like He did the converts under Alma’s leadership, “the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.” Such is the heart of the widow exemplified in this wonderful couple.

In October 1981, Sister Renlund was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. She underwent two surgeries and nine months of chemotherapy. Struggling to take care of Ruth and their daughter, Elder Renlund recalls, “I was hurting, and it seemed as if my prayers wouldn’t go heavenward.”
When he brought Ruth home from the hospital, she was weak, but they wanted to pray together. He asked Sister Renlund if she would pray. “Her first words were, ‘Our Father in Heaven, we thank Thee for priesthood power that makes it so that no matter what happens, we can be together forever.’”
In that moment, he felt a special closeness to his wife and to God. “What I’d previously understood about eternal families in my mind, I now understood in my heart,” Elder Renlund says. “Ruth’s illness changed the course of our lives.”
To take her mind off the illness, Sister Renlund decided to attend law school. “I just thought, ‘This will only be a bad experience unless we make something good of it,’” Sister Renlund says. “It wasn’t in our plan for me to have cancer as a young woman and have only one child. And my survival was in doubt. But we felt like law school was the right thing.”
She pursued her studies even as she continued treatment for her illness and her husband continued his residency.
As Elder Renlund was transitioning from three years on the medical house staff to a cardiology fellowship, he was interviewed to be the bishop of the Baltimore Ward. Brent Petty, who was the first counselor in the Baltimore Maryland Stake at the time, remembers that interview. Both he and the stake president, Stephen P. Shipley, felt “the strong influence of the Holy Spirit” as they interviewed him.
Brother Petty recalls that “he distinguished himself as a superb bishop,” even with the professional and family challenges he was experiencing. When Elder Renlund received his call to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles last year, Brother Petty notes that members of the Baltimore Ward as well as Elder Renlund’s medical colleagues, most of whom are not Latter-day Saints, were pleased. They expressed their love for him and their admiration for his service and exceptional moral character.
In 1986, after Sister Renlund graduated from the University of Maryland School of Law and Elder Renlund completed his three-year internal medicine residency program and three-year cardiology fellowship, they returned to Utah. Sister Renlund began practicing law at the Utah attorney general’s office, and Elder Renlund became a professor of medicine at the University of Utah. For 18 years he was the medical director of the Utah Transplantation Affiliated Hospitals Cardiac Transplant Program.
In 2000 he also became the director of the Heart Failure Prevention and Treatment Program at Intermountain Health Center in Salt Lake City. The program included implantable cardiac pumps and the total artificial heart. Donald B. Doty, M.D., an internationally recognized heart surgeon, was a colleague and friend of Dr. Renlund at LDS Hospital. Dr. Doty says, “His remarkable training, in-depth focus, capable administration, and compassion were exceptional.”
Dr. A. G. Kfoury, a devout Catholic who worked closely with Dr. Renlund for many years, states that Dr. Renlund was the lead transplant cardiologist in the region, “unmatched in his character, integrity, humility, and compassion.” He says Dr. Renlund “brought out the best in people. He did it quietly. He listened well and cared, and he was immensely interested in the success of those who worked with him.” Dr. Renlund led quietly by example and was always concerned about the families of his co-workers.
Dr. Kfoury particularly noted Dr. Renlund’s compassion for patients. For example, if a patient didn’t have means of transportation, Dr. Renlund would drive significant distances to the patient’s home, lift him or her into his car, and then drive the patient back to the hospital. Dr. Kfoury said this was extraordinary.
After serving as stake president for five years in the Salt Lake University First Stake, Elder Renlund was called in 2000 to serve as an Area Seventy in the Utah Area. Then in April 2009 he was called to be a General Authority Seventy. His first assignment was to serve in the Africa Southeast Area Presidency, an area that has Church units in 25 different countries.
Sister Renlund shares their response to the calling: “It was a surprise, of course. And people have said, ‘You’re leaving your careers at their peaks.’ And that’s probably true. But if the Lord needs the peak of our careers and this is when we can be of service, then that’s the time to go.”
Speaking of his wife as his hero, Elder Renlund says, “She made the greater sacrifice.” Sister Renlund left her job as the president of her law firm and left positions on several prominent boards to serve with him. “We were sent to Africa and tutored by the Saints about what really matters,” says Elder Renlund.
One Sunday in central Congo he asked the members what challenges they were facing, but they couldn’t think of any challenges. He asked again. Finally, an old gentleman in the back of the room stood and said, “Elder Renlund, how can we have any challenges? We have the gospel of Jesus Christ.” Reflecting on that experience, Elder Renlund explains: “I want to be like these Congolese Saints, who pray for food every day, are grateful every day for food, are grateful for their families. They have nothing, but they have everything.”
Serving in the Area Presidency for five years, Elder Renlund traveled thousands of miles through the vast Africa Southeast Area, visiting members and missionaries. He studied French because it is spoken in several of those countries.
Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, who was the member of the Twelve assigned to work with the Africa Southeast Area Presidency at the time, says of Elder Renlund: “No one could have invested himself in the area and its people and their needs more than Elder Renlund did. He labored unceasingly to know the people, to love their cultures, and to help move the Saints toward a place of redeeming light.”
On September 29, 2015, he received an unexpected call from the Office of the First Presidency. At the Church Administration Building, “I was welcomed warmly by President Thomas S. Monson and his two counselors. After we were seated, President Monson looked at me, and he said, ‘Brother Renlund, we extend to you the call to serve as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.’”
Elder Renlund was stunned. He humbly accepted the calling and recalls, “I think President Monson sensed that my bones had dissolved, and so he looked at me, and he said, ‘God called you; the Lord made it known to me.’”
Elder Renlund returned to his office, closed the door, and fell to his knees in prayer. After collecting himself, he called his wife. “Her reaction was one of astonishment,” he says, “but of absolute commitment to the Lord, His Church, and to me.”
Their daughter, Ashley, acknowledges, “My dad has excelled because of the blessing of heaven and has been prepared by a lifetime of service for this call. He has a big heart; it is full of love.”
Similarly, Elder Renlund’s brother, Gary, says Elder Renlund “was prepared from a long time ago, both by challenges and by service for the call that has come to him. This is part of the larger plan that is in place, and it is easy for me to sustain him.”
Reflecting on the magnitude of the calling, Elder Renlund says, “I don’t feel qualified, with the exception that I do know that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world. I can witness of His living reality, that He is my Savior and your Savior. I know that that’s true.”

An elder from Germany told how he had always known that he did not know the truth. He described how he sometimes prayed to God to find it. After leaving the military service, he was employed in Switzerland. One day, living alone and feeling lonely, he prayed again, “Please God, send me the truth.” A few days later when he was walking down the street, a stranger approached him and said, “Young man, I am supposed to talk with you, but I don’t know why.” In this missionary’s words, “I looked into his face and knew he had the Spirit of God. His face was beautiful.” The stranger was a Church member who had been walking down the same street and felt inspired to speak to an unknown young man on a busy street in Switzerland. This elder spoke of his mission as a privilege.

The next morning, Sunday dawns warm and sunny, with a sky full of puffy white clouds. Buenos Aires is a beautiful city of broad, tree-lined boulevards—think of it as Paris with palm trees. Later in the morning, sidewalks and parks will fill with people out for a stroll. For now, some of the busiest places are the LDS chapels, like the one in the suburb of Belgrano. Here you meet young people like Federico Casco. His dad was going to the United States on business, and Federico had the chance to go along and visit Disneyland. Instead, he stayed home so he could have four years of perfect attendance at seminary. Now he’s graduated, and he says, “It was a light in my life. It helped me obtain a stronger testimony and helped me decide to go on a mission.”

Going on missions is not easy for Argentine youth. The economy is just starting to improve after years of high unemployment and super-high inflation. There are very few jobs available for young people under 18, so saving money is tough. On the bright side, without part-time jobs, friends have more time for each other and for Church service.

Mauro Berta is first counselor in his ward Sunday School and an assistant to the bishop in the priests quorum. Florencia Gomez is Young Women’s secretary and teaches the Stars in Primary. And Guillermo Pitbladdo is Sunday School president. Sunday night finds them at the Pacheco chapel with other friends from their stake.

These are not just recent converts, clinging to seminary to learn about their new faith. Many of them come from second- and third-generation Latter-day Saint families. They have been taught the gospel in their homes. But Diego Griffith says, “Everything I had not learned during the fourteen years that I have been a member of the Church I learned in four years of seminary. That’s where I started to become more familiar with the scriptures and where I learned about the promises of the Lord.”

Besides, as Debora Walker points out, when you are a teen, there seem to be lots more temptations around, and without seminary “it would be much more difficult to resist those temptations.”

Maybe Juan José Zopetti sums it up best: “Seminary helps me primarily to increase my testimony of Jesus Christ—his love and his mission.”

That restored knowledge of Jesus Christ—his mission and commandments—that’s the gospel. That’s what Elder Ballard sent rolling forth across a whole continent nearly 70 years ago. And here at the center, where it began, LDS youth are making sure the wave is still building.

I sat in the temple waiting to do baptisms for the dead, and I prayed. I was 20 years old, and I wanted to know: Should I serve a full-time mission? I had a feeling the answer was no, but I wanted to ask once and for all.
Suddenly I shivered all over, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over me. No was the impression I felt. No mission for me.
Although I knew the expectation for young women to go on missions is not the same as for young men, I was confused. Why did the Spirit encourage me not to serve? Wouldn’t I be good at spreading the gospel?
As some of my friends received mission calls, I sometimes wondered what my future would hold. My 21st birthday was approaching, and I couldn’t help thinking, “There’s still time to be interviewed and submit my mission papers.”
I was studying in England when my parents called me. I could hear my mother crying as she told me the devastating news: She had been diagnosed with cancer.
A month later when I came home to the United States for the summer, chemotherapy was making Mom weak. I started helping around the house, learning to manage chores and meals. I also spent hours talking to Mom, fearful that I might lose her. I learned that managing a household is complicated, time-consuming work, and I gained a new appreciation for Mom’s efforts over the years. I barely managed to put decent dinners on the table.
Fortunately, ward members and others in the community helped us.
Mom’s treatment went on, and meanwhile our family grew closer. Mom told us stories about her youth, and we played lots of board games. We talked about the scriptures. My dad shared his fears with me as well as his testimony.
During that summer, I learned eternal lessons. I knew my place for now was at home with my family. My testimony grew as I felt Heavenly Father’s love all summer long. I became better friends with the ward members I had known all my life. My family grew closer, comforted by the knowledge that our family ties would last beyond death. I thanked the Lord for answering my question about serving a mission, guiding me to serve my family.
Editor’s note: Since her treatments, the author’s mother has recovered her health.

For the past three years, I have had the opportunity to be tested. I have come to realize that no matter what you go through, with God you do not have to do it alone.
Shortly after my 16th birthday, I discovered that I have eczema. It was difficult every morning to look in the mirror and see the rashes that covered my body. I challenged myself to see this as an opportunity to be tested. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I tried to do what my Young Women teachers taught me: to count my blessings each day despite my trials. Even though I don’t have clear skin right now, I am grateful for my family and friends and for my musical talents. I am grateful to have two legs, two hands and feet, eyes to see, and ears to hear. I know that true beauty lies within one’s self, not on the outside.
But my eczema gradually got the better of me. I was no longer as friendly as I used to be and no longer smiled. The many doctors I consulted were certain that I would be “flawless” before Christmas. But I wasn’t. I prayed every day for strength to overcome the shyness brought about by my skin disease.
Everybody kept telling me not to think about my plight, that I should act normally and pretend there was nothing wrong with my skin. But this was not easy to do. My mom would gently repeat scripture stories over and over again, hoping to comfort and encourage me.
Doctrine and Covenants 24:8 says, “Be patient in afflictions, for thou shalt have many; but endure them, for lo, I am with thee, even unto the end of thy days.” This scripture gave me words to live by. I have them written on bookmarks, on notebooks, and in my room. It is now one of my favorite verses for encouraging me to do my best despite my trial.
Enduring this trial has been difficult, but now I am more prepared for future trials. Heavenly Father has prepared me so that I can handle whatever challenges come. Now I know that no matter what I go through, I do not have to do it alone.

Cyrena felt that there was a larger purpose in her joining the Church and moving to Zion. Yet moving to Missouri meant leaving her family. She would not see most of her family again, but she trusted that the restored gospel would offer salvation and eternal connections. She wrote in her autobiography, “I was strongly impressed that my going was not only for my own salvation, but for that of the family also.” It was not until years later in Nauvoo when she learned about baptisms for the dead and the ability to do proxy work for her family. She recalled, “It was a source of great satisfaction to me to know that I stood in a position to do a work for them which would give them the privilege of accepting in the spirit world the gospel, which was neglected in this.”6

When I heard about the Church’s “Light the World” Christmas initiative and the worldwide day of service, I thought, “What a nice idea. I’m going to do it.”
A couple of days before the worldwide day of service on December 1, a thought popped into my mind of whom I needed to help. Immediately, I thought, “Anyone but him!” This person had hurt me deeply for many years, but the more his name nagged at me, the more I knew that the thought had come from the Spirit.
I told my husband what I was thinking, and he said that serving this man would be good for me. Still, I felt extremely nervous at the thought of helping him. I knew I couldn’t do this on my own, so I prayed for strength and for someone to go with me. Eventually, I called the sister missionaries, and they agreed to go with me.
December 1 came, and I was so nervous that I felt shaky while I drove. We prayed together when we got to the apartment. I took a few deep breaths and knocked on the door. The man opened the door, but he didn’t seem to recognize me. I asked if he knew who I was. He thought I was just one of the sister missionaries. When I told him who I was, he was surprised but pleased that I had come to see him. An awkward moment arose when I told him that it was a worldwide day of service, and we wanted to help him in any way we could.
I delegated jobs to the missionaries, and we went to work cleaning his apartment. After a couple of hours, we finished and left. It wasn’t until I was driving home that I realized I was laughing and happy. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks: Heavenly Father had taken away all of my hurt, pain, bitterness, and grief. It was gone! And I was free from all the anguish I had carried for so many years. Heavenly Father had blessed me with the strength to finally forgive this person. It was marvelous how light my heart felt.
I am so grateful that I followed the prompting to help this man. My loving Heavenly Father knew I needed to have this experience so I could grow and become more of the person He wants me to be.

All families should regularly hold council meetings to discuss such things as how to adjust the budget to include carpet for the living room, assigning responsibilities for the garden’s care, how to spend the summer vacation—so that together the family can arrive at workable solutions. One father called a special family council the night it was determined that a grandmother’s leg must be amputated. There were many tears, and there were fond recollections of how full of activity her life had been up to then.
Quickly the family decided that grandmother should be invited to live with them. It was then the mother wisely said, “If she comes, let’s make her a queen in our home. We can put her bed right here in the family room so she won’t miss anything.” The compassionate attitude of the mother prevailed in that home. It led the way for all of the family. It blessed the grandmother as long as she lived with them, which she did until she died; it enhanced the lives of all the members of that family; there was greater unity, cooperation, and togetherness than they had known before.

I had the opportunity to go on a mission to the Fiji Suva Mission at the age of 24 after receiving my Master's Degree. I thought for a long time I was too old to serve a mission but while pursuing a Master's Degree at the University of Arkansas, I had the opportunity to receive my patriarchal blessing which specifically addressed my serving a mission for the Lord. When I received my mission call, I had no idea where the Cook Islands were located, where I was specifically assigned to serve, or the Fiji Islands. I got out the National Geographic Magazines (This was way before Google Search) and excitedly found their locations and read as much as I could about the islands. As my mission came to a conclusion, the Church Educational System man in Fiji approached me about the possibility of coming back to Fiji and teaching in our Church High School that was yet to be built there. I put in my application at his urging and did not think much more about it until approached by CES some three years later having in the meantime been sealed to Sister Bauer in the Oakland California Temple and our having a fifteen month old daughter. We were blessed to go back to Fiji and teach in our Church High School there, The Fiji LDS Technical College; then, some years later, serve as the headmaster of our Church School in Kiribati, Moroni Community School (Now Moroni High School), live in Guam and coordinate seminaries and institutes of religion in Micronesia, live here in Kailua for four years teaching at the Honolulu HI Institute and coordinating seminaries here, and then go over to Hilo and be there for the past 21 and a half years as the Hilo HI Institute Director and coordinating seminaries and institutes of religion for the neighbor islands in the State of Hawaii. During this time we had two of our five children born in Fiji, one while we were in Kiribati, and one in Guam. We have been truly blessed as a family to live in the Pacific Islands among the great people of the islands.

Now let me contrast Brent with Jeff, who also had turned away from the established values of society, seeking in the hippie mode of living an identity and code of conduct. Like others whose hair grows long and who sometimes leave their shoes at home, his belief that “establishment” personalities care more about appearances than about people seemed to him confirmed wherever he turned, for he was often met with scorn and rejection. He wondered in his heart how he could ever cast his lot with a society whose members seemed to care little about what he cared for, namely, the love of individual for individual.
I tried to show Jeff point by point that every good hope that he nourished for mankind could be realized only in the Savior. One day Jeff came to me utterly crushed. He had, because of his hair length, been treated with scorn and derision by a man in a position of authority. Crying softly, Jeff said, “How can I cut my hair now? I have been thinking about doing so, but if I cut it now, it will be like groveling at his feet. It would be like saying ‘I have no backbone or integrity. I am willing to do anything just because I am threatened.’ How can I cut my hair? That man has made it impossible for me to do it now.”
I offered Jeff no advice. I simply read him the following passage from First Corinthians in which Paul counsels that there is nothing intrinsically wrong with eating meat offered to idols, except as it would offend a brother’s conscience. He says:
“… take heed lest by any means this liberty of yours becomes a stumblingblock to them that are weak.
“For if any man see thee which hast knowledge sit at meat in the idol’s temple, shall not the conscience of him which is weak be emboldened to eat those things which are offered to idols;
“And through thy knowledge shall the weak brother perish, for whom Christ died?
“But when ye sin so against the brethren, and wound their weak conscience, ye sin against Christ.
“Wherefore, if meat make my brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make my brother to offend.” (1 Cor. 8:9–13.)
Jeff brooded about these passages. They said to him: “Even though there may be no intrinsic reason why shorter hair is preferable, there is nevertheless a good reason for cutting your hair. You should cut it so you won’t be a stumblingblock for others. You should cut it so you won’t be the reason for this brother to be angry. You should cut it so others who see you won’t think you join with the general hippie culture in repudiating the morality of Jesus Christ and be encouraged, by what they think is your example, to repudiate it themselves. You should cut it for the same reason that you don’t dress in gaudy and patently materialistic clothing—because by your appearance you don’t want to encourage others in a way of life that is contrary to their consciences.”
To cut his hair under threat was one of the hardest things Jeff could have been asked to do, because in the eyes of his peers he would be seen as yielding to the threat of a member of the “establishment.” Nevertheless, the next time I saw him, his hair was cut. This was a magnificent Christian act, done wholly for others. It won’t surprise you to learn that Jeff is now on a mission, delightedly introducing to others what he has discovered.
What is the difference between Jeff and Brent? It is this: For Jeff, the gospel suddenly became a technicolor production. He had tasted its spirit. His love for the Savior had been stirred. He perceived the magnificent possibilities involved in treating other people in the way the Savior would treat them. For Jeff, the marvelous alternative of the gospel made Satan’s way of life pale by comparison. He had found another alternative besides the two choices that Brent had known. He didn’t have to choose, as did Brent, between the exciting rebelliousness of sin and the restrictions of a black-and-white, letter-of-the-law version of religion.
Suddenly for Jeff there were immediate opportunities for realization of his dreams. Suddenly the commandments of the Lord were no longer restrictive to him, for his desires, based primarily on selfish satisfactions that had put him in opposition to the Lord’s commandments, seemed to have been purged out of his soul. His will was no longer in conflict with the Lord’s; because of the power of God that had come into his heart and had purified him from selfish desires, the way was cleared for love and selflessness to become the dominant motivations of his actions. In this way he experienced for the first time the only real freedom that men can know: freedom from one’s inner enemies, one’s evil and selfish desires.
Jeff was now preoccupied not with a conflict with commandments that hedged his actions about, but with blessing people, in the course of doing which he automatically kept the commandments. In the words of the scripture, he had been dead to the spirit and alive to the law; but now he was “dead to the law” and to sin and alive to the Spirit and to the Savior. (See 2 Ne. 25:23–27.)
With this spirit, Jeff became a new person, and the fellow who used to sleep in his bed and wear his clothes—the fellow full of resentment and guilt and discontent—had somehow disappeared.

We all know that reading the scriptures can be a struggle. How many of you have tried to start reading the Book of Mormon and haven’t been able to get past 1st or 2nd Nephi? Yeah, that was me so many times until I came up with a plan. One day I decided to skip 1st and 2nd Nephi and start with Jacob. Sometimes I have to play tricks on my mind and it worked because I felt I was getting somewhere when I quickly completed 5 books (Jacob, Enos, Jarom, Omni, and Words of Mormon). Of course, all but one of those books has only one chapter but I nonetheless had finished 5 books. By that time I felt the desire to feast upon the words and I wanted to keep reading. Alma didn’t even seem that long anymore as I became immersed in the scriptures. Once I finished Moroni I started at the Title Page and read right through 1st and 2nd Nephi as I continued reading through the Book of Mormon once again. By reading the scriptures, especially the Book of Mormon, I have been able to recognize how these ancient records apply to our times. It has helped me be more aware of how Satan tries to deceive us and try to destroy us. It has also helped me see how much Heavenly Father and Jesus love us and how patient they are with us.

Aurelia Spencer Rogers began at a very young age to choose the right and do good. She was six years old when her parents joined the Church. Her family moved from Deep River, Connecticut, to Nauvoo, Illinois. When the Saints were forced to leave Nauvoo, Aurelia’s mother died, leaving seven young children. They and their father crossed the Missouri River and went to Winter Quarters, Nebraska, where he built a log cabin for them to live in. When Aurelia was 12, her father was called to serve a mission in Great Britain. While he was gone, Aurelia and her 14-year-old sister, Ellen, took care of the family.
Throughout her life, Aurelia loved and was concerned about children. When she was a young married woman, she felt that parents needed help in teaching their children the gospel. When the Primary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was established in 1878, Aurelia was called to be its first president. Today, all of us can enjoy Primary because Aurelia Spencer Rogers followed Heavenly Father’s plan, choosing the right and doing good.

I watched, confused, as my family and I watered the concrete foundation of our house. I felt ridiculous. Who has ever heard of watering a house? When we moved to Texas, USA, our neighbor explained that in that particular area we needed to water our house’s foundation so that the weather wouldn’t cause the house to settle and crack. So I watered the house, even though I felt crazy doing it.
The watering helped for a time, but eventually, our house started to crack. We soon discovered that our house wasn’t built on solid ground. It had been built on a landfill, which caused our house to sink as buried trash below decomposed over time. We watered the foundation, but our house would still crack. So we eventually moved away.

Some years ago I was on a board of directors with a fine man who had been extremely successful in life. I was impressed with his integrity and his loyalty to the Church. I learned that he had gained a testimony and had joined the Church because of seminary. When he married, his wife had been a lifelong member of the Church. He belonged to no church. Through the years and despite her efforts, he showed no interest in attending church with his wife and children. And then he began driving two of his daughters to early-morning seminary. He would remain in the car while they had their class, and then he would drive them to school. One day it was raining, and one of his daughters said, “Come in, Dad. You can sit in the hall.” He accepted the invitation. The door to the classroom was open, and he began to listen. His heart was touched. For the rest of that school year, he attended seminary with his daughters, which led eventually to his membership and a lifetime of activity in the Church. Let seminary help build and strengthen your testimony.

They were twins, but they really didn’t look alike. Josy was taller than Kelsey. She had bright blue eyes, bouncy hair, and dimples that danced on her cheeks whenever she giggled. Kelsey, on the other hand, had a long golden ponytail that went swish, swish when she walked. Kelsey loved to tease. Her deep brown eyes would sparkle when she told a joke.
The people in Littleton loved them. Mr. Brooks, at the supermarket, said it was because of their smiles. “No,” Mrs. Applebee said. “It’s because they always say hello to everyone.” Little Max liked them because they played games. Jim, the delivery boy, said the girls were just plain fun to be around. Whatever it was, everyone agreed that the twins made people happy. Everyone, that is, except Sister Crane and Sister Goodwin.
“What are we going to do about them?” Sister Crane said. “I try to teach a new song in Primary, and they sing too loudly. Kelsey sings off-key, which makes Josy laugh. Soon the whole Primary is laughing. They need to learn to sing quietly.”
“What are we going to do about them?” Sister Goodwin asked. “I try to tell a story about Jesus. At first the girls listen, but then Kelsey finds something funny in the story, and Josy starts to laugh. Soon the whole class is laughing. They need to learn to listen.”
“The girls were twirling down the hallway last Sunday.”
“They don’t always sit on the bench.”
“Sometimes they take their shoes off in class.”
“They giggle in the middle of the quiet song.”
“We need to tell their parents.”
“No, we need to send them to their parents.”
“Break them up. Don’t let them be in the same class.”
Sister Turner, the Primary President, listened quietly. The twins weren’t bad children. They were just a little disruptively happy. “I think that maybe I should have a talk with Josy and Kelsey. Maybe I can make a difference.”
The next day, Sister Turner backed her bright yellow van out of her driveway. She chugged down the street, over the bridge, and across the park to the twins’ house. Josy came running out of the house. “Hi, Sister Turner,” she called. “Look at our new puppy!”
Just then Kelsey came out of the house, chasing a black and white puppy. Kelsey giggled as the puppy darted back and forth just out of her reach. Josy joined in chasing the puppy around in circles. Round and round they went, until the girls gave up and dropped to their knees on the grass. The little puppy pranced up to them and sat on Josy’s lap.
Sister Turner started to laugh. Suddenly she had an idea. “Girls, would you like to go to the zoo with me to see the new butterfly house?” Josy giggled. Kelsey grinned. They loved the zoo. After getting permission from their mother, they were on their way in Sister Turner’s bright yellow van.
A butterfly fluttered by Josy’s face as she opened the door of the butterfly house. “Wow,” she giggled as clouds of colorful butterflies flew over her head. She grabbed at a pink one, but it flitted away. “Let’s catch one,” Kelsey yelled, running to the other side of the room. Yellow, blue, pink, and white butterflies flew gracefully over her head.
Some of the butterflies landed on tree branches. Josy cupped her hands and crept up behind a black and orange butterfly. It flew quickly away. Kelsey turned round and round surveying the room. The beautiful butterflies were everywhere. They hovered over the pond, covered the trees like blossoms, and even dotted the path. Laughing and giggling, the twins chased the butterflies everywhere. But the beautiful insects always stayed just out of reach.
Finally Josy and Kelsey became tired and sat on a bench by Sister Turner to rest. “I guess you just can’t catch a butterfly,” Kelsey said.
“You can, if you know how,” Sister Turner replied. Josy and Kelsey looked at Sister Turner with interest. Sister Turner smiled. “Girls, do you know what reverent means?”
“Sure,” Josy answered. “It means fold your arms and don’t talk.”
Sister Turner chuckled. “Well, being quiet is part of it, but that’s not really reverence. Reverence is a feeling. It’s hard to explain, but maybe I can show you. Do you want me to?”
Kelsey grinned. She didn’t know what this had to do with butterflies, but Sister Turner knew just about everything.
“You need to sit very still and be quiet,” Sister Turner continued. “That’s the part about reverence that you already know. But if you’ll do that part, I think you’ll be surprised by the rest.” She took each girls’ hands and dipped them in the pool of water. For several minutes they just sat there with their hands cupped in front of them.
Kelsey listened. It was very quiet in the butterfly house. All you could hear was the drip, drip of the water tap.
Josy watched as the butterflies flew in the trees and hovered over the pool. They were very close. Slowly, slowly a butterfly fluttered toward her, dipped down, and landed on the palm of her hand. Josy started to giggle, but Sister Turner shook her head. Josy sat very still, watching the butterfly sip at the water on her fingers.
Sister Turner took Kelsey’s hand and placed it next to a butterfly on a nearby flower. The butterfly gracefully walked onto her hand to drink the water. A warm glow filled the girls. They had tried hard to catch a butterfly, and now, just by being quiet, each was holding one in her hand.
As the girls held their butterflies, Sister Turner whispered softly, “Reverence is a lot like these butterflies. You don’t catch a butterfly. You let it come to you. You don’t catch a reverent feeling, either. It just comes to you when you are quiet. It’s the warm feeling you are feeling right now. You can also feel it when you think about Jesus Christ or anything else wonderful. When you are in Primary next Sunday, think about how quiet you had to be to have these butterflies in your hands. Then think about Jesus, and see if you get that same reverent feeling.”
The next Sunday the twins hurried to Primary. Sister Turner greeted them at the door. She smiled and pinned a small paper butterfly on each of their dresses. “Now remember, girls, don’t scare your butterflies.”
Josy smiled. Kelsey grinned. Reverently they walked to their chairs and sat down. It was quiet in the Primary room. Kelsey listened to the soft music Sister Crane was playing. Josy closed her eyes and thought about Jesus. Slowly the girls felt a warm feeling come to them.
“Look at the twins,” Sister Goodwin whispered. “They are being reverent. What did you do?”
Sister Turner smiled. “It was easy,” she whispered back. “I just showed them how to catch a butterfly.”

Six-year-old Amber looked around the busy chapel as the people came in. She saw the young men who passed the sacrament smiling as they sat down. Moms and grandmas hugged their neighbors. Dads and grandpas shook people’s hands. She also saw her friends from Primary sitting on benches with their moms and dads and brothers and sisters.
Then Amber looked at her bench. Only her mom, older sister, and brother sat with her. Her dad sat with the bishop at the front of the chapel.
Amber didn’t like Dad sitting at the front of the chapel. She knew he sat there because he was called to be the second counselor in the bishopric. But she wanted him to sit next to her so she could snuggle against his arm.
Mom looked at her grumpy face. “What’s wrong, Amber?” she asked quietly.
“I don’t like Dad sitting in the front,” Amber said.
“Bishop Smith is responsible for all the people in the ward,” Mom explained to her again. “That is a very big job. He needs helpers like Dad and Brother White. They have received a call from Heavenly Father to help the bishop and each person in the ward.”
After sacrament meeting Amber went home with her family. Dad stayed at church for a meeting. When Dad got home, Amber sat on his lap. “I missed you in church,” she said quietly. Dad looked at her carefully. “Well, I’ll see what I can do about that,” he said.
The next Sunday after Primary, Dad was waiting for Amber. Together they walked into the chapel and up the steps. Dad took his place next to Bishop Smith. Dad had told Amber that she could sit with him for a few minutes before the meeting started.
Amber tried to be very reverent. She listened to the soft organ music and watched as all the people sat down in the chapel. She saw white-haired ladies sitting together on a bench. She noticed that some of the families had only a mom, and some had only a dad. And some children came to church with their grandmas and grandpas.
“And the bishop takes care of all these people!” she thought. “He does need help.” Amber knew that she could help the bishop by not being grumpy when Dad sat away from her. “From now on I’m going to be happy!” she thought. Then she looked at Mom and her brother and sister. “They look lonely without me sitting next to them,” she decided.
Amber smiled at Dad and whispered, “See you at home. We’ll be waiting for you.” Then she walked quietly back to her family.

After I was baptized, I had a lot of hard times with my family. Sometimes they wanted me to stay home on Sunday, but I would choose to go to church instead. Most of the time it was hard trying to keep on the covenant path.
Some of my family members have been against the Church and have told me that I made the wrong choice to join. When they tell me this, these words come to my mind: “I know that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ live. I know that the Church is true.” These thoughts have helped me hold on to the truth.

Of course, Shawn’s basketball prowess has not gone unnoticed. He has attracted national attention since he was in the ninth grade. His family’s ability to look for the positive really helped while college recruiters visited around Castle Dale trying to persuade Shawn to consider goint to their colleges. Shawn’s dad, Reiner, says, “We were told the recruiting process could become unpleasant. We sat down as a family and said, let’s not let it get that way. Let’s do this from a positive angle. Let’s enjoy it. It was an incredible experience, and the family enjoyed every minute of it.”

Almost as soon as the caravan stopped at the end of the forest road, the doors popped open and Scouts, dads, and a lot of backpacking equipment and fluorescent-orange life jackets came tumbling out of the cars and trucks. In no time at all the Scouts were lined up, drawing their allotment of food to carry, and stuffing it into their packs. Everyone seemed to know his duty and how to perform it. The few dads who were along to help were impressed with the organization. In fact, the only person not surprised by all this super efficiency performed by 12- and 13-year-old boys was their Scoutmaster, Nob Wimmer.
For Brother Wimmer this trip with the American Fork Utah 14th Ward Scouts was only one of hundreds of Scouting outings he has participated in during his 25 years of Scouting experience.
When asked how he got 12- and 13-year-old boys to perform much beyond their years, he commented on his philosophy:
“The age of the boys isn’t that critical. With cooperation you’d be surprised what even young boys can accomplish. There are three elements that do seem to make for a great trip. First, you need to plan well in advance. Second, a trip needs to require effort from everyone. Preferably the work starts a long time before the trip. If it does, the people involved get more excited about the actual event, they learn more, and they improve their teamwork. Then when we have taken care of all the variables that we can control, the third element of a great trip often comes into play. This is the element of surprise—the unexpected or the unusual happening that really makes the event stay alive in people’s minds long after the trip is over.”
To the 35 Scouts and adults who went, the trip was a success. They had been planning for months; each of them knew his duties and how to carry them out. They had also been working very hard to get ready. They learned how to handle canoes. They conditioned themselves to their backpacks, and many of the Scouts invested extra hours in learning to tie fishing flies. They worked one evening a week with Brother Wimmer learning how to do it, and then they tied quantities of flies in anticipation of the trip. In addition, every meal of the five-day camp was carefully planned in advance. Then, a few days before the trip, the food was bought and repacked so it would be easier to carry. They used off-the-shelf grocery items rather than the more expensive dehydrated backpacking foods. They even made their own oven-dried jerky to save on weight and expense.
Once the gear was out of the vehicles and strapped on backs, everyone started up the trail together. The few miles to the lake seemed more like a dozen since each person not only had to carry his own personal gear but also had to take a turn helping to carry one of the canoes.
At the lake, supplies and Scouts were ferried across the water to a lovely campsite. Scouts built simple, plastic-covered shelters under the pines, and had camp completely set up and organized in time to take in an evening’s fishing.
It was easy to get to sleep that first night. David Miller, however, woke up in the middle of the night with a creepy feeling that he wasn’t alone in his bag.
“I thought I felt something in my bag. I lay still for a while, and pretty soon whatever it was began running down my back. I grabbed it between the folds of my sleeping bag, got out of the bag, and woke my father. He helped me brush it out. It was a little squirrel, and it seemed as glad to be out of the bag as I was.”
The next morning Bishop Bean found fresh moose tracks around his sleeping bag, and there were deer tracks all through camp. After that everyone kept watch for the abundant wildlife in the area. Every morning and evening they were able to watch moose saunter down to the lake for a drink and a swim.
“The wildlife provided the unusual and the unexpected on this trip,” said Brother Wimmer. “Each day most of the boys got to see deer and moose in their natural setting. The animals didn’t even seem frightened of us. We didn’t bother them, and they seemed content to let us share their lake for a few days.”
Everyone caught some fish, and even one boy who had been cool on the trip in the first place had a terrific time. He told the leaders when they were planning the trip, “I don’t want to go up in the woods somewhere and play cowboys and Indians.”
“He sure got interested when the fish started biting,” said Bishop Bean. Like the rest of the boys, he had set goals he wanted to accomplish on this trip. Each boy became more proficient at some skill, and they were all better trained to operate as a group than ever before.
During lunch one day one of the adults was swatting at some of the huge horseflies that seemed to be everywhere. “These horseflies are terrible,” he said.
Brother Wimmer piped up, “Don’t say that! Nothing up here is terrible!”
“Okay, I’ll just say the horseflies are mildly aggravating.”
“Fine,” said Brother Wimmer with a smile, and then let silence complete the sermon. It was a sermon that was relived time and again as the boys later shared the memories of this experience at troop meetings and a special ward banquet in their honor.