Gospel Story Finder

A Father’s Blessing
During the Vietnam War, we held a series of special meetings for members of the Church called into military service. After such a meeting in Chicago, I was standing next to President Harold B. Lee when a fine young Latter-day Saint told President Lee that he was on leave to visit his home and then had orders to Vietnam. He asked President Lee to give him a blessing.
Much to my surprise, President Lee said, “Your father should give you the blessing.”
Very disappointed, the boy said, “My father wouldn’t know how to give a blessing.”
President Lee answered, “Go home, my boy, and tell your father that you are going away to war and want to receive a father’s blessing from him. If he does not know how, tell him that you will sit on a chair. He can stand behind you and put his hands on your head and say whatever comes.”
This young soldier went away sorrowing.
About two years later I met him again. I do not recall where. He reminded me of that experience and said, “I did as I was told to do. I explained to my father that I would sit on the chair and that he should put his hands on my head. The power of the priesthood filled both of us. That was a strength and protection in those perilous months of battle.”
President Boyd K. Packer, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles

When the missionaries showed me the filmstrip of the Prophet Joseph Smith’s First Vision, it was difficult for me to contain my tears. The story of his search for truth was in some ways similar to my own.
At that time, I was 20 years old and living in Italy, the land of my birth. For five years I had been looking for answers my parents’ religion had not been able to give me. I had sought these answers in other religions and philosophies, but something seemed lacking in all of them. During the year before I met the missionaries, that search had become the most important thing in my life. I distanced myself from some of my friends and even left the university where I had been studying. My relatives could not understand me.
At the end of 1984, I met the missionaries on the street and gave them my address. I knew very little about the Church, but for some reason I wanted to speak to them.
Some days later I was in my room. I opened my heart to God, asking Him to show me what He wanted me to do. As I prayed I felt a great peace surround me. At that exact moment, the doorbell rang. When the missionaries came in, I knew they had the answers I sought.

President Young knew of what he spoke. In Kirtland, several of the Twelve Apostles, including Witnesses to the Book of Mormon, and other leaders met in the newly dedicated temple to plan how to wrest control of the Church from Joseph Smith. It was a time when “the knees of many of the strongest men in the Church faltered.” [24]

Dissatisfied with the financial situation in the Church, they intended to renounce Joseph Smith as prophet and appoint David Whitmer instead. Brigham Young rose up, and in a forcible manner told them that Joseph was a prophet. “They might rail and slander him as much as they pleased, [but] they could not destroy the appointment of the Prophet of God.” [25]

Brigham later wrote, “During this siege of darkness I stood close by Joseph, and with all the wisdom and power God bestowed upon me, put forth my utmost energies to sustain the servant of God and unite the Quorums of the Church.” [26] Brigham had integrity.

Others did not. Eliza R. Snow observed at the time, “Many who had been humble and faithful to the performance of every duty. . . drank in the love and spirit of the world, [and] the Spirit of the Lord withdrew from their hearts.” [27] You don’t want to be in that company.

William Warner Major was a miniaturist, an artist who painted photograph-sized portraits. He and his siblings met the missionaries in London. All were baptised within a week of each other. Thus started a journey from London to Nauvoo, then on to Winter Quarters in Nebraska, then the Great Salt Lake Valley, and back to London, where Major died serving his third mission.
After his death, William’s missionary companions, William Henry Kimball and James Marsden, wrote a history of their friend. Recent research has uncovered a three-page journal and five letters written by William. Furthermore, since William sketched portraits of numerous pioneers, his endeavours were noted in their personal journals. From these sources emerge the story of a devoted leader and his faithful wife, Sarah Coles Major.
William and Sarah were baptised on 10 April 1842.
After the Marylebone Branch in London was created on 27 July 1842 by Elder Snow, the first meeting of the branch was held in William and Sarah’s apartment. After less than four months of membership, William was called to preside as branch president.
The Kimball and Marsden History recorded that, “Elder Major was ... ordained an elder, and sent on a mission to preach the gospel in Reading, Berkshire [...].”
On 11 February 1844 William, Sarah and son, William Jr., set sail on the Swanton. They had lost two children, Henry and Fanny, before this time. After they arrived in Nauvoo, William functioned as an official artist for the Church. He was commissioned to paint portraits of Church leaders to be hung in the Nauvoo Temple.
On Friday, 8 April 1853 general conference took place. President Heber C. Kimball stood at the pulpit and announced, “We have a number of elders who are chosen to go on missions.” He read the list of names, which included William Major, called to go to England.
On arriving in London, William settled in an apartment with other missionaries. In October 1854, William H. Kimball wrote his father, President Heber C. Kimball:
“On the 2nd inst., I went to see W. W. Major who has been ill for seven weeks, and at 7 o’clock last evening he departed this life, notwithstanding great faith and exertion on his part, as well as by many others. His last words to me were that he was not discouraged and wished me to administer to him. To the last his faith was good, and he desired to return to the Valley.”
So many of the Saints were buried at sea, or left in shallow graves crossing the plains, but William’s body was transported across the ocean, up the Mississippi River, stored for six months, then placed on the boat called Alma on the Missouri River and sent to Mormon Grove, Kansas. Such was the great love and respect the pioneers had for their leader and friend, William Warner Major.
More information on the life of W. W. Major can be found online at: sites.google.com/site/jkmajor/home.

These inventions and discoveries set the stage for further contributions. In the early 1500s young William Tyndale enrolled at Oxford University. There he studied the work of the Bible scholar Erasmus, who believed that the scriptures are “the food of [a man’s] soul; and … must permeate the very depths of [his] heart and mind.” Through his studies, Tyndale developed a love for God’s word and a desire that all God’s children be able to feast on it for themselves.

Meanwhile, William Tyndale had become a trained priest and was fluent in eight languages. He believed a direct translation from Greek and Hebrew into English would be more accurate and readable than Wycliffe’s translation from Latin. So Tyndale, enlightened by the Spirit of God, translated the New Testament and a portion of the Old Testament. His friends warned him that he would be killed for doing so, but he was undaunted. Once, while disputing with a learned man, he said, “If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plough shall know more of the scripture than thou dost.”

Eventually Tyndale, like others, was killed for his efforts—strangled and burned at the stake near Brussels. But the belief for which he gave his life was not lost. Millions have come to experience for themselves what Tyndale taught throughout his life: “The nature of God’s word is, that whosoever read it, … it will begin immediately to make him every day better and better, till he be grown into a perfect man.”

Many years ago, while preparing an Old Testament Sunday school lesson for our Young Single Adults about Noah and the Ark, much studying, prayer and thought went into this lesson. A small sentence stood out to me, this phrase was, "Church leaders have counseled each of us to build a personal ark."21 Let’s look at part of Elder Ladd’s Conference talk that this lesson was based on.

“Build a Personal Ark” I thought about this phrase many times. During the week nothing came to me, but I knew that I like what I heard. I could not stop thinking about the phrase “Build a Personal Ark” and after much study, prayer and pondering of this, it was Sunday and my wife started the lesson and I did not have anything new to share and it was about 20 minutes into the lesson. Then it hit me. “Build a Personal Ark” I stood up and felt inspired to share the following to the class. We all need to build our personal ARK!”
A –is for Attitude. What we choose in this life will depend on our attitude. We all need to learn, to choose right by having a Christ-like attitude. Having a Christ-like attitude is charity, which is the pure love of Christ. In the book of Mormon, we learn that "Charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things."22

These are the very things we should be working on to have a Christ-like attitude. Life is 10% of what happens to you and 90% of how you react to it. We need to remember that obtaining a better attitude will control our thoughts. It will also help us to control our emotions and actions. When we learn to control our attitude, disappointment and change will be easy to handle, having a positive attitude can help us develop a Christ-like love, which will help in our Relationship with God. Having a Christ-like attitude will help strengthen us with the next two principles.
R –is for Relationships. We all need to establish good strong relationships with God our families and those around us. If we are in tune with our Father in Heaven will, we can be inspired to mend and strengthen relationships with family members and others. As members, followers of Christ, we should always look to the Savior as our example to love as He has. Christ said to his followers "A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another."23

What relationships are we building? Please think about this… do we have good or bad habits? Are you building a relationship with God or Satan. For in Luke 16:13 "No servant can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon."24 By turning the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers. Temple work is another way we strengthen our eternal relationships. In Mathew 16:19 we read, "And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven."25

K – is for Knowledge. Aristotle All men by nature desire to know. We need to gain knowledge, both temporal and spiritual knowledge. We learn in the Doctrine and Covenants "Seek learning, even by study and also by faith."26 It also counsels us to learn the gospel and to gain an understanding "of things both in heaven and in the earth, . . that [we] may be prepared in all things."27

As you look to God and live, you will find a whole new way of learning. He has all the knowledge in the world. Being in tune with him will help you prepare for the future. ”Whatever principle of intelligence we attain unto in this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection. And if a person gains more knowledge and intelligence in this life through his diligence and obedience than another, he will have so much the advantage in the world to come.”28
ARK - Knowing that our actions during mortality influence our eternal destiny. Attitude, Relationship, and Knowledge, are the only 3 things we will take with us when we leave this earthly life. That is why it is important for us to build our spiritual ark upon each of these sound principles. Where we go we take our personal ARK with us. I believe, this is the standard that Elder Ladd was talking about. As he said; “We all need to build a personal ark, to fortify ourselves against this rising tide of evil, to protect ourselves and our families against the floodwaters of iniquity around us. We need to calmly continue to move ahead and to prepare for what will surely come. For if we are prepared our arks will float on a sea of faith if our works have been steadily and surely preparing for the future.”29

My father's friends come from all walks of life. I'd like to tell you about one of my father's friends who would have been considered by others to be "one of the least of these my brethren." His name was Ed Erickson. He was almost twenty years older than my father. Ed was born prematurely and experienced some of the complications that accompanied premature births almost a century ago. Ed couldn't see very well, and he never had the opportunity to study and learn at a university. Yet, my father said Ed always had the scriptures open by his reading chair. He went to work at an early age to help support his widowed mother. He worked for the street department of Salt Lake City doing manual labor his entire working career. He never married, he never drove a car, and even when he was 90 years old, he would walk everywhere he went--usually about eight miles every day. Dad would say to Ed, while referring to himself as the bishop, "Ed, you're one of my counselors."

My father was a loyal friend and actively sought to find ways for Ed to feel valued. Dad frequently hired Ed to help him clean his pigeon coops and do manual chores in our large yard. I must say that I didn't always feel comfortable around Ed. He was a big man, he looked different, and he didn't talk very much. Ed just did his work, ate dinner with us, and then Dad would take him home. This happened several times each year. In later years, when my father would get tickets to take his grandchildren to the circus or to the rodeo, Ed always came, too, sharing our popcorn and drinks.

I was so amazed when Salt Lake City Magazine ran a feature on my father and Ed Erickson was quoted in the article. He stated the highest tribute I've ever read concerning my father. He said:
"If the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ himself had chosen an apostle, he wouldn't have done a better job than Brother McKay did when he chose Tom Monson."

Ed passed away three years ago at the age of 96. If you had attended Ed's funeral, you would have thought it was the funeral for one of the greatest individuals who had ever lived--and actually, it was. It was the funeral for my father's life-long friend, Ed Erickson.

When I was about five years old, I was playing football with my friends behind the church in my small village in Côte d’Ivoire. I vividly remember the preacher’s call to his congregation to cleanse their clothes in preparation for the Savior’s arrival. Being young, I took this call literally. I ran home as fast as my little legs could carry me and begged my mother to clean my few clothes so that I could be spotless and ready for the Savior’s coming the next day. Although my mother was skeptical about the Savior’s imminent return, she still washed my best outfit.
The next morning, I put on the still slightly damp clothing and eagerly waited for the announcement of the Savior’s arrival. As the day wore on and nothing happened, I decided to go to the meetinghouse. I was deeply disappointed to find that the church was empty and the Savior had not arrived. You can imagine my feelings as I slowly walked home.
Years later, as I was receiving the missionary lessons in preparation to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I read the following: “And no unclean thing can enter into his kingdom; therefore nothing entereth into his rest save it be those who have washed their garments in my blood, because of their faith, and the repentance of all their sins, and their faithfulness unto the end.”
The clarification I received at that time helped me to understand the important truth that had eluded my young mind many years prior. The preacher’s message was centered on the importance of spiritual purity. He urged the congregation to seek repentance, make changes in their lives, and turn to the Savior for redemption.

As I have visited stake conferences and other meetings in recent years, I have carried President Thomas S. Monson’s call to rescue the less-active members of the Church. At one stake conference I told a story of a less-active member who returned to full activity after his bishop and other leaders visited him in his home, told him he was needed, and called him to serve in the ward. The man in the story not only accepted the call but also changed his life and habits and became fully active in the Church.

A friend of mine was in the congregation to which I told that story. His countenance visibly changed as the story was told. He sent me an e-mail the next day telling me that his emotional reaction to the story was because his father-in-law’s story of returning to activity in the Church was very similar to the one that I had told. He told me that as a result of a similar visit by a bishop and an invitation to serve in the Church, his father-in-law reevaluated his life and his testimony, made major changes in his life, and accepted the call. That reactivated man now has 88 descendants who are active members of the Church.

At a meeting a few days later, I told both stories. The next day I received another e-mail which began, “That’s my father’s story too.” That e-mail, from a stake president, told how his father was invited to serve in the Church even though he had not been active and had some habits that needed changing. He accepted the invitation and, in the process, repented, eventually served as a stake president and then a mission president, and laid the foundation for his posterity to be faithful members of the Church.

A few weeks later I told all three stories in another stake conference. After the meeting a man came to me and told me that that was not his father’s story. It was his story. He told me of the events that led him to repent and come back to full involvement in the Church. And so it went. As I carried the call to rescue the less active, I saw and heard story after story of people who responded to invitations to come back and change their lives. I heard story after story of redemption.

Tony’s family lived in a two-bedroom apartment right in the middle of the city. His parents slept in one bedroom, and Tony and his little sister, Linda, slept in the other.
In the front room was an alcove. It was sort of like a closet without a door. Tony wanted to sleep in the alcove by himself, but his papa and mamma said no.
“We need you to take care of your sister. When Linda is older and no longer afraid of trains going past at night and shaking the house, you can move to the alcove,” they told him. “But not until then.”
“When will that be?” Tony asked. But no one could give him an answer.
Then one day a letter came from Tony’s grandfather. He was coming to stay with them.
“Where will Grandfather sleep?” Tony asked.
“In the alcove,” Papa answered.
“But that’s where I want to sleep,” Tony said.
“I’m sorry,” Mamma answered, “but Grandfather is old, and he needs his rest.”
“But, Mamma,” Tony said, “you always tell me that I am a growing boy and need rest too!”
“Yes, you do, Tony,” she said. “But the alcove isn’t the only place you can get it.”
Tony was happy Grandfather was coming to stay, but it was hard not to be upset about having him sleep in the alcove.
The afternoon that Grandfather arrived he asked Tony to go for a walk with him to the candy store. On the way they saw some boys playing ball on a vacant lot.
“Looks like a good baseball game,” Grandfather said.
“Oh, yes,” Tony said.
“Don’t you play baseball?” Grandfather asked him.
“I play in front of our apartment,” Tony said. “Mamma doesn’t like me to come down here by myself.”
“Well, you’re not by yourself now,” Grandfather said. “Let’s stop and play for a while. I’ll play in the outfield.”
Tony looked up at his tall grandfather. “You will?”
“Of course. What position do you play?”
“I’m a catcher,” Tony said.
“Then let’s play,” Grandfather said.
Both of them joined the game. Grandfather made two nice catches in left field and Tony hit a double.
Finally Grandfather wiped his forehead with his big red handkerchief. “I’m ready to go to the candy store now,” he said, “if that’s all right with you, Tony.”
“Okay,” Tony said. “We’re ahead thirty-five to two, and our team can get along without us now!”
Grandfather and Tony said goodbye to their friends and walked down the block.
The door of the candy store opened when Grandfather pushed on it, and a little bell tinkled. Inside it smelled like a mixture of licorice and peppermint.
Grandfather picked out some chocolates for Mamma and a lollipop for Linda. He told Tony to choose whatever he wanted.
Tony chose a piece of bubble gum with a baseball card inside the wrapper. The gum was dusted with sugar and crackled as Tony started chewing.
Tony had a wonderful afternoon with his grandfather, but at dinner that night he couldn’t help thinking about the alcove again.
Then Tony began to think about his own father growing old. Tony wondered if he would ask Papa to live with him even if his family had only a small apartment and Tony’s son had to sleep in a room with his little sister.
Tony looked up at his father’s strong, warm dark face. Suddenly he was filled with love for Papa. It was almost a sad kind of love, and it made his throat feel large and lumpy.
He stood up and went around the table. “Papa,” he said, “when you’re old and alone, I want you to come live with me.”
After dinner Grandfather pushed his chair back from the table. “Tony,” he said, “I’ve been thinking about the alcove.”
Grandfather put his long legs out in front of him. “Do you think these long legs could fit in the alcove?”
Tony looked at Grandfather’s legs. He did not know what to say.
“I think I’d better sleep on the couch,” Grandfather suggested, “and I think you should sleep in the alcove.”
“But what about Linda?” Tony asked. “She’s afraid of trains, so she can’t sleep alone.”
Everyone looked at Linda.
“I’ll tell Linda a story every night at bedtime,” Grandfather said, “if she will promise not to listen to the trains. Okay, Linda?”
Linda looked at him. “Every single night?” she asked.
“I, won’t miss one night!” Grandfather promised.
“Will it be a special story?” Linda asked.
“I’ll tell you a very special story every night,” Grandfather promised.
Tony looked at Grandfather’s legs again. He could fit in the alcove, Tony thought. He just says he couldn’t.
Suddenly some of that love he felt for Papa filled Tony’s heart for Grandfather too.

I was baptized when I was 21 years old in Guadeloupe. As I was taught, I sincerely tried to repent of my sins to be able to receive the Holy Ghost. I became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and experienced a change of heart; my desires were for the gospel. But even though I had been baptized, I was still struggling with aspects of my life and character that were not proper.
I often wondered how I could be forgiven and have my heart completely changed. Often I felt like Nephi and would exclaim, “O wretched man that I am! Yea, my heart sorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities” (2 Nephi 4:17).
From the time I was baptized, I kept all the commandments that came with the ordinance of baptism, paid a full tithe, honored the Sabbath day, and lived the word of wisdom and the law of chastity, etc.
But still I was struggling with some aspects of my life. I worked on those things for years, sometimes doubting that I would ever overcome them. I often came pleading for help at the sacrament table.
One day as I was seeking to obtain the remission of my sins and pleading for help, something peculiar happened. As I listened to a talk, the Spirit of God rested upon me and my eyes were opened to see the reality of how my sins were grievous to my God, how I would be terribly ashamed to be brought back into His presence, how I would dread that time. A fire had been lit in my soul. I saw myself even less than the dust of the earth; I mourned for my sins and cried bitterly, and at the same time I recognized that for many years I had pleaded for what was happening now. I could see my weaknesses in a very tangible way (see Ether 12:27). I knew that the Savior would not let me suffer for my sins without coming to the rescue, and I pleaded for His help. I then understood better the people of King Benjamin:
“And now, it came to pass that when king Benjamin had made an end of speaking the words which had been delivered unto him by the angel of the Lord, that he cast his eyes round about on the multitude, and behold they had fallen to the earth, for the fear of the Lord had come upon them.
“And they had viewed themselves in their own carnal state, even less than the dust of the earth. And they all cried aloud with one voice, saying: O have mercy, and apply the atoning blood of Christ that we may receive forgiveness of our sins, and our hearts may be purified; for we believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who created heaven and earth, and all things; who shall come down among the children of men.
“And it came to pass that after they had spoken these words the Spirit of the Lord came upon them, and they were filled with joy, having received a remission of their sins, and having peace of conscience, because of the exceeding faith which they had in Jesus Christ who should come, according to the words which king Benjamin had spoken unto them” (Mosiah 4:1–3).
I cannot tell you exactly when the peace came, but in the days that followed, I knew that my guilt was swept away and I feared no more. I had no more desires for the things of the past; I had experienced another change of heart even deeper than at my baptism.I recognized the blessing of the sacrament in my life to receive peace and comfort from the Lord. I desired to keep the commandments even better, to be more diligent in my service.

On one occasion, a missionary in the final week of his mission reminded me that I had given him clearance two years previously to serve a mission. The clearance had been extended with some reservations on my part because he had indulged in a number of transgressions before his mission. He said: “Elder Asay, you allowed me to go into the field after due repentance and after I promised that I would be strictly obedient and would work diligently. I can assure you that I have worked hard and have obeyed every rule.” Then he said something very significant. “I feel that my sins have been forgiven. I feel perfectly clean.” He had been cleansed through selfless service and by developing a close association with the Holy Spirit. He had been through the refiner’s fire, and impurities had been burned away.

Phineas lent his copy of the Book of Mormon to his father, who thought it “the greatest work he had ever seen,” then to his sister Fanny, who declared it “a revelation.” Fanny passed it on to Brigham, who was more reserved:

“When the Book of Mormon was first printed, it came to my hands in two or three weeks afterwards. Did I believe, on the first intimation of it? … ‘Hold on,’ says I. … The mantle of my traditions was over me, to that degree, … it was almost impossible for me to see at all; though I had beheld, all my life, that the traditions of the people was all the religion they had, I had got a mantle for myself. Says I, ‘Wait a little while; what is the doctrine of the book, and of the revelations the Lord has given? Let me apply my heart to them;’ and after I had done this, I considered it my right to know for myself, as much as any man on earth.
“I examined the matter studiously for two years before I made up my mind to receive that book. … I wished time sufficient to prove all things for myself.”23

On another, later occasion Brigham further explained this reserve:

“Upon the first opportunity I read the Book of Mormon, and then sought to become acquainted with the people who professed to believe it. … I watched to see whether good common sense was manifest; and if they had that, I wanted them to present it in accordance with the Scriptures. … when I had ripened everything in my mind, I drank it in, and not till then.”24

“Examine,” “prove all things for myself,” “good common sense,” “ripened”—all certainly good, rational approaches, and characteristic of Brigham with his down-to-earth Yankee skepticism and his well-learned wariness of religious extremes. But just as characteristic, though more hidden perhaps, was his need and desire to “apply his heart” to these new and attractive teachings, and after about a year and a half, that is how he was finally moved to action. He was visited by a group of Mormon missionaries from Columbia, Pennsylvania, one of whom sat him down and bore his testimony to him:
“When I saw a man without eloquence, or talents for public speaking, who could only say, ‘I know, by the power of the Holy Ghost, that the Book of Mormon is true, that Joseph Smith is a prophet of the Lord,’ the Holy Ghost proceeding from that individual illuminated my understanding, and light, glory and immortality were before me. I was encircled by them, filled with them, and I knew for myself that the testimony of the man was true. … My own judgment, natural endowments, and education bowed to this simple, but mighty testimony. … It filled my system with light, and my soul with joy.”25

When Drew* was a young boy, he lived next door to the bishop of his ward, Bishop Philip T. Sonntag. The bishop’s son Mark was one of Drew’s best friends. One afternoon, Mark and Drew were playing in different parts of the Sonntag yard, when the bishop came outside looking for his son. “Drew, do you know where Mark is?” he asked. Drew knew that if he told the truth, Mark would have to quit playing and go inside. “No, I don’t know where he is,” Drew answered.
The bishop went back into his house, and Drew ran to the other side of the large yard, where Mark was playing. “Who were you talking to?” Mark asked. “It was your dad,” Drew answered. “What did he want?” “He wanted you to go inside.” “Then I’d better go in,” Mark said. He left, and Drew stayed outside. A few minutes later Bishop Sonntag came outside again. He told Drew that what he had done was not right and that he (the bishop) was disappointed that Drew hadn’t told the truth.
Drew felt terrible. He was nine years old. He had been baptized. He knew that he was accountable and that he had made a mistake. He walked home and went to his bedroom. He cried as he knelt beside his bed and asked Heavenly Father to forgive him. Then he went back to his friend’s home. When Bishop Sonntag answered the door, Drew said, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry about what I did.” The bishop put his arm around Drew and invited him to come inside.
Drew learned two valuable lessons from the experience: First, it’s important to tell the truth. Second, when we repent after doing something wrong, we feel better. Drew always remembered the outpouring of love he felt from his bishop upon correcting his mistake. He appreciated the bishop and felt that he had been forgiven.

After I graduated from high school, I went to BYU. In my freshman English class I was assigned to write an essay about a time when I overcame a conflict. I chose to write about my relationship with Bruce. It was a very difficult paper to write, but after I did, I felt better.

A few months later I was asked to give a talk in my ward on repentance. I decided to share the story I had written. My mother and Bruce weren’t going to be able to make it. I was actually quite relieved to find out they weren’t going to be there. Then just before I was supposed to give my talk, my mother and Bruce slipped into the back of the chapel. My heart started to beat wildly. I felt like I was going to cry. I had to pull it together. What was I going to do?

After a few minutes into my talk, I began to read my story, and as I did, tears came streaming down my face. I paused, took a deep breath, and continued to cry throughout the rest of my talk. When I finished, I looked over at my mom and Bruce. They were both teary-eyed and sniffling. After church Bruce came up to me and told me he was so sorry. He said he hadn’t realized what I had been going through. He told me that he was sorry, whereas I was the one who had done all of the terrible things. I quickly told him that I was sorry and that I hoped he could forgive me. The beautiful part was that he had already forgiven me. I didn’t even have to ask.

Susan flopped onto her bed. She lay back and looked at the poster on the ceiling of Meggen and her. Her mother had taken the picture of the two of them on their horses last summer and had surprised them with poster-size prints for Christmas.
Meggen had long, strawberry-blond hair that flowed over her shoulders. Susan’s own hair was black, curly, and cropped just below her ears. Meggen was thin and graceful. Susan was a little on the short side with round cheeks. Meggen had helped Susan’s family move into their new home. She had been riding her horse by their home when she saw the moving van and offered her help.
Meggen first introduced Susan to Pal, her palomino. Then she introduced her to the other children in the neighborhood. Sometimes Susan felt self-conscious around Meggen, who was exceptionally pretty. Today she had discovered that they differed in more than looks.
Closing her eyes, Susan relived every detail of their conversation as they walked home from school. Meggen wore her hair in a French braid down her back. Faded summer freckles framed her slender nose and brown eyes. …
“Are you entering the horse show in Middleton?” Meggen asked.
“No, I can’t this time—it’s on Sunday.”
“You go to church every Sunday,” Meggen complained. “It wouldn’t hurt to miss once. This is the biggest horse show of the year.”
“I know,” Susan replied wistfully, “but I want to be at church on Sunday.”
“What’s so exciting about church?”
“I don’t go to church because it’s exciting,” Susan tried to explain. “I go because … well, because I have a testimony.”
“What’s a testimony?”
Susan opened her mouth to answer and closed it again. “I don’t know how to explain it,” she admitted. …
Susan rolled over onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow. “How do you explain what a testimony is?” she asked herself.
She knew that she had a testimony. Just last fast Sunday she had followed Sister Hawkins to the stand. As she waited her turn, she looked over the congregation. I hope Marianne or Jill comes up and sits with me, she thought.
Sister Hawkins’s voice broke as she spoke of the Atonement. Why does she always cry when she bears her testimony? Susan wondered.
“I know Jesus Christ is the Savior of us all,” Sister Hawkins testified. “When I miss my husband and others who have passed on, I pray to Heavenly Father for comfort, and through the Holy Ghost my heart is filled with the Savior’s love. Then I don’t feel lonely anymore.”
Susan felt peace filling her heart as she listened. Tears moistened her eyes. The words to a Primary song came into her mind. “I feel my Savior’s love In all the world around me.”*
She closed her eyes and thought of the mountains. Red and yellow patches covered their sides. She loved autumn. She especially liked the smell of the air. She often saddled Lightning and galloped up the mountain road, breathing deeply.
She imagined the Savior creating the mountains, filling the streams with crystal water, and planting the trees for her. The feeling inside her kept growing until a tear trickled down her right cheek. She wiped it away with her index finger as the chorus came to her: “He knows I will follow him, Give all my life to him. I feel my Savior’s love, The love he freely gives me.”
When she walked to the pulpit, for the first time she didn’t think about her friends or about how proud her parents would be. She offered a silent prayer before she spoke. Please, Heavenly Father, help me to feel my Savior’s love like Sister Hawkins does. She felt a sweet peace flow over her. Her prayer had been answered. Tears streamed down her face. All she could say was “I feel my Savior’s love too. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.”
Those feelings returned as she lay on her bed, remembering. She knew how a testimony felt, but how could she explain it to Meggen?
On the way to school Friday, Meggen’s eyes flashed with excitement. “You’ll never believe what Dad gave me at breakfast, Susan—a new saddle! You just have to stop by after school and see it.”
Even though Susan felt good about her decision not to enter the Middleton horse show, it was hard to hear Meggen talking about it. They had gone to every horse show together since Uncle Gordon had given her Lightning for her eighth birthday. They’d taken a 4-H horsemanship class together and had learned about grooming and riding. Both girls had collected a wallful of ribbons and a few trophies in the years that followed.
“I hope Pal wins the trophy again this year!” Susan exclaimed, and she meant it. But she wished even more that she could answer Meggen’s question. Please help me to explain to Meggen about testimonies, she pleaded silently. She had offered this prayer many times this past week—sometimes aloud on her knees in her bedroom, and always in her heart when she and Meggen were together.
A new idea slipped into Susan’s mind. “Do you remember when Pal won the trophy last year?”
Meggen nodded. “It was the most exciting day of my life!”
“And when you remember, do you still feel the excitement?”
“Sometimes I lie on my bed, holding the trophy and reliving every moment,” Meggen admitted. “I brushed Pal’s hair carefully and braided it with blue and yellow ribbons. I was so nervous, my hands shook when the judges came by. And I screamed when they announced I had won.”
Susan winced. “I remember that part. You screamed into my ear.” They laughed together. “Remembering is wonderful, isn’t it?”
Meggen nodded again. “I’ll always remember that day, no matter how long I live. I’ll probably tell the story over and over to my grandchildren.”
“And you’ll always have special feelings each time you do,” Susan assured her. “That’s what a testimony is like, Meggen—remembering, and having wonderful feelings when you do.”
“Remembering what?”
“Remembering that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love me.”
“Have you ever seen Heavenly Father and Jesus?” Meggen questioned seriously.
This is going to be the hard part, Susan thought. Heavenly Father, please help me, she prayed in her heart. “I haven’t seen Them with my eyes.”
“What other way is there to see someone?”
“Before we were born on earth, we were spirit children of Heavenly Father,” Susan explained. “So was Jesus. My spirit eyes saw Them. I don’t remember what They look like or what They said and did, but my spirit remembers. I don’t remember in pictures and words, but in feelings. I’ve felt Their love for me over and over in my heart. I know that what I’m learning in church is true, because I feel Their love when I’m there.”
They had reached the school grounds. Children were calling and chasing each other on bikes. “Do you really believe you have a spirit and a body?” Meggen asked.
“Yes, I do,” Susan said softly. “I know it’s true because I asked Heavenly Father if it was. And through the Holy Ghost, He answered me. I know that my spirit remembers places and people my body has never known. I’m learning to let my spirit teach my body.”
“Do you believe I was a spirit too?”
“Yes I do.”
“If that’s true,” Meggen reasoned, “then my spirit should be able to remember too.”
Susan nodded. “If you learn to listen, it will.”
“Will you teach me, Susan?”
Susan’s heart again filled with peace. She knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ loved Meggen even more than she did. “I can try,” she assured her friend, “but there are lots of other people to help you too. There are my parents and my Primary teacher. The missionaries can help too. Best of all, the Holy Ghost can help you. He’s a spirit, and He knows just how spirits remember.”
Meggen reached out and clasped Susan’s hand. “Do you feel that love now?” she whispered.
Susan nodded—she was too happy to speak right then. The school bell rang, and the girls broke into a run, still holding hands.

If you’re from “Big D” you inevitably do things in a big way. And the Scouts from the Dallas, Dallas North, and Ft. Worth Texas stakes are no exceptions.
For their LDS Regional Camporee, 131 boys and 32 leaders from 21 wards and branches filled two days competing in compass courses, fire building, trailing, knot tying, lashing, and physical fitness tests. They were also evaluated on camping expertise and campsite excellence.
The traditional Court of Honor was preceded by a not-so-traditional banquet—a chicken dinner Texas-style. The “dinner” arrived—a clucking, pecking, feathery bird—and the Scouts took over from there. Each Scout also received a specially designed regional camporee patch that featured a Bicentennial theme.
Fourteen Explorers, called by their stake presidents as staff specialists, directed the camporee. The Explorers, most of them Eagle Scouts, worked 18 hours a day and inspired just-a-little-harder work on skills from younger Scouts.
The comments of boys and leaders ran from “fantastic” to “the best thing that’s ever happened to our ward program!” The spectrum of opinions wasn’t very wide, but the smiles on the faces were. One Scout expressed what everyone seemed to be thinking: “This was neat! When are we going to do it again?”

The oldest graduate that day was Lyle M. McDonald.
Lyle was born in Salina, Utah. At the appropriate time he entered BYU, his most enduring reminder of those years still being the permanent knee injury he received playing football. Lyle later left BYU—without a degree—to become a teacher and principal at the Page Elementary School on North Canyon Road here in Provo. It is fitting irony that BYU now owns that old Page School building, which is situated directly across the street from a slightly newer, and larger, football stadium. . . .

Now, after a full and fitting life, Brother McDonald returned to school . . . to finish that degree begun so long ago because “he wanted to improve himself, he wanted to help others, and he wanted more association with the ‘great and qualified’ professors at BYU.” (Those are his words.) Furthermore, he wanted a university diploma to go along with his Master M-Man award and his World War I discharge papers. That’s right. “The Great War. Old WW I,” as Colonel Sherman Potter would say—“The war to end all wars.” . . . Yes, our soldier returned to school for a diploma partly so his World War I discharge papers wouldn’t be lonely. But an even loftier purpose ultimately prompted our veteran to return. He says simply and directly, “I wanted knowledge. We can’t get into the celestial kingdom without knowledge. Knowledge is about the only thing we are allowed to take with us.”

I am very grateful to have had a father who did not overindulge his sons, except with love and moral support. I think I have a special appreciation for many things because of having worked in a canning factory and having caught the hot cans as they came from the capper, for the munificent sum of 25¢ per hour. One of the by-products of the job was to have the flesh of the hands peel off from the moisture and the heat of the cans. It also involved a 16-kilometer bicycle ride every day to and from work.

For eight American seminary students living with their families in Quito, Ecuador, Christmas is a special time of year. In an effort to give something of themselves at this time of the year, they decided to share Christmas with an orphanage in the northern city of Latacunga.
The first efforts began in making gifts for the 70 children, ranging in age from 10 days to 12 years. For the boys they made bean bag mice, and for the girls they made soft snow-women dolls. Trying his hand at running a sewing machine, Bryon Bowers said, “I felt needed making those presents.”
When the big day came, the students wrapped each gift and loaded a basket with extra goodies like formula for the babies, rice, school supplies, and candy canes for everyone. At the orphanage, the students sang Christmas carols, helped the children reenact the Christmas story, and introduced Santa. Lamont Loveland recalls, “It was a very good experience for me because I had to play the part of Santa. It was fun to see the children’s faces when I handed them their presents.” Cory Goodman adds, “I’ve been here before, but I’ve never seen the children so excited.”
The seminary students brought five piñatas filled with candy and set them up for the children to break. Brenda Reinhart observed, “Seeing the love and unselfishness these orphan children showed was a lesson to me. After the candy from the piñata was collected by the children, they looked around to see who hadn’t received any so they could share theirs.”
During the two-hour drive back to Quito that evening, Carrie Reinhart expressed a wish, “I want to spend my next birthday here sharing with these wonderful children.”
Paulette Kaudelka spoke of the yearning most of them had felt during the day. “When I left the orphanage, I wanted to take all those little children with me and give them a better life.” Penni Kaudelka and Clayton Bowers felt their testimonies grew with this opportunity to serve.
In summing up the feelings of the group, I can only say we were all touched by the love given and then returned tenfold that day.