Gospel Story Finder

“Tomorrow is very special,” Diego’s teacher said. “We’re going to have Show and Tell!”
Diego smiled. He loved Show and Tell! He couldn’t wait to show his friends something special.
After school, Diego told Mama the great news.
“What should I take?” he asked.
“Something special to you,” Mama said.
“I can bring Lobo!”
“I don’t think we can take a dog to school,” Mama said. “But there are other special treasures you can share.”
Soon Diego’s treasure hunt began! He found a stuffed monkey. Should he take him? But Diego kept looking.
He looked behind the kitchen chairs. He looked on the bookshelf. He wouldn’t stop until he found something just right.
Then he looked by his bed. He found the perfect thing!
Diego ran to show Mama. He held his treasure tight.
“Mama!” he said. “Look! I found the best thing.”
He held up a small picture for Mama to see. It was a picture of Jesus as a little boy. Diego felt good when he looked at the picture. He wanted his friends at school to feel good too.
“That is a special thing for Show and Tell,” Mama said. “What will you tell your class about Jesus?”
“That everyone can be happy,” he said. “Because Jesus loves everyone!”

I have prayed fervently to know which of all that could be said, should be said. I have been prompted to share with you a sacred personal experience. It so graphically demonstrates the reality, the nearness, the infinite love of Jesus Christ that several times in the past I had thought to tell of it publically. Always I was led not to do so. This evening the Spirit whispers yes.
May it help you to feel an expanded awareness of the Savior’s deep personal involvement in each individual life. He is real. He is near, and he loves more than we can comprehend.
Our first two children were beautiful little girls. During my third pregnancy, a critical situation developed. It was soon recognized to be life-threatening. Medical experts advised us that there were two alternatives—my probable death, or therapeutic abortion of the child growing within me. The Holy Ghost testified there was no option; I would continue to carry our unborn child. Others in similar situations may well receive a different witness from him. This was personal revelation and was accepted. Anguishing months followed, months of pleading with the Lord that those near to me would have the same conviction, months of applying the power of the priesthood through my husband’s administrations. At last a healthy child was born—our first and only son. My life was spared. This is background for the incident that I feel prompted to share with you this evening. It occurred when this most treasured little son was nearly three years old. One day, suddenly and without warning, he stopped breathing and fell to the floor, apparently lifeless. My husband was not home, and I called my ten-year-old daughter, Nancy, to get help, and I carried him to the bedroom. As I worked to revive him, I literally cried out unto the Lord. I begged him to spare our only son. I promised that I would dedicate myself to training him up to be an instrument in the hands of God if he would be spared. The police arrived with their emergency equipment. I continued in fervent, vocal prayer to the Lord, petitioning him to restore our little boy. The doctor arrived. Just as a stimulant was to be injected directly into his heart as a final emergency measure, he cried. My prayers had been answered, but I was to receive further testimony of this in a most unexpected way.
The next morning our son climbed on his daddy’s knee. “I was sitting on the lap of Jesus,” he said. Then he went on: “He looked into my eyes; I was so happy. I wanted to stay there with him, but he told me I had to go back home to you.” Even now, 24 years later, our son remembers vividly the reciprocal love he experienced during his brief “step out of time.” He is vigorous and well, living with his lovely wife and a little son of his own as he continues to serve the Lord.

When Thelma was 16, she was called to be the Primary president. Our bishop had been trying to find someone to handle the many challenges the Primary organization was facing. The ward covered a large area, and it was difficult and expensive for many families with small children to travel by bus to the church both on Saturdays for Primary and on Sundays. Many of those children were not attending Primary, and no solution had been found. The bishop had been prompted to call Thelma but could not bring himself to do it because she was so young. The prompting continued, and after receiving approval from the stake president, the bishop extended the call to my sister.

This proved to be an inspired decision, and it blessed many children—including me. Thelma magnified her calling by following inspiration, using common sense, and implementing innovative ideas to develop training programs to bring the gospel to the children. She asked her counselors and teachers to hold Primary meetings at several places closer to their homes, and she provided ongoing training for those teachers. This solution allowed members to save time and money and enabled children who were previously not attending Primary to receive the blessings of this wonderful organization.

The apple went spinning to the ground. Clint was getting pretty good with his homemade slingshot. He had made it from a strong Y-shaped stick and a thick rubber band and had been practicing with it all day. Now his aim was good enough to knock an apple right out of a tree.
He saw a car coming down the road and wondered if he could hit a moving target as small as a taillight on a car. He closed one eye, pulled the rock back to his ear, and let it go. Crack! The sound of breaking plastic and glass was followed by the tinkle of pieces of glass and plastic hitting the pavement. Clint gasped. He’d actually hit the taillight of that car!
In a panic, he dropped his slingshot and scooted up the apple tree, hiding among the leaves. The car screeched to a stop, and a man jumped out. He walked around to look at his broken light, then glared straight at Clint’s hiding place.
“I know you’re up there!” he bellowed. “I saw you. You’d better get down here before I call the police!”
Clint didn’t move. He recognized the man. It was Brother Ernest, who always complained about how noisy the kids were when he went to church. Clint did not want to talk to him.
After a few minutes, Brother Ernest got back into his car and drove away. Clint waited a long time. It was nearly dark when he finally climbed down. He picked up his slingshot, pulled off the rubber band, then flung the stick into the bushes and walked slowly down the road, feeling worse with every step. By the time he got home, he was miserable, and it showed.
“What’s wrong?” Clint’s mother asked when he came into the house. Feeling that he could carry the burden no further, he blurted out everything. His mother put a hand on his shoulder. “What do you think you should do now?” she asked softly.
“I know what I need to do,” Clint said. “I just don’t want to do it.”
She nodded. “It’s hard to make things right when you’ve done wrong. But if you do your part, the Lord will take care of the rest. And you’ll feel good again. I’ll drive you to Brother Ernest’s house, if that will make it any easier.”
Without a word, Clint went out to the car. When they arrived at Brother Ernest’s house, he saw the car with its broken taillight in the driveway. He was relieved that there were no police cars.
The house was dark, and he had a glimmer of hope that maybe Brother Ernest wasn’t home. Clint slowly climbed the front steps and rang the doorbell. A dog barked. The porch light suddenly came on, and the door was flung open.
There stood Brother Ernest. “Ah-ha! You’ve come to pay your dues!”
“S-sorry about your car light, B-brother Ernest,” Clint stammered. “I’ll pay you for it.”
“You bet you will! I’ll send the bill to your parents, and if you don’t pay, I’m calling the police.” He slammed the door and turned off the light, leaving Clint standing alone in the dark.
It took Clint more than three months to repay his parents. It took all his allowance, all his paper-route money, plus anything extra he earned doing chores. But at last the bill was paid in full. And Clint discovered that his mother had been right. He did feel good again. He was glad that he had done the right thing. He was particularly glad the next time he saw Brother Ernest. …
It was Clint’s first Sunday as a deacon, and he and another deacon, Dan, were assigned to collect fast offerings. He was surprised when the second house they visited was Brother Ernest’s. It was shabbier than Clint remembered. The front step was warped, and the porch light was broken. Seeing the porch light brought back all those memories about the broken car light. He wondered briefly if someone had broken the porch light with a slingshot and hadn’t repaired it. Suddenly he felt sorry for Brother Ernest.
“This one’s yours,” Dan whispered, handing Clint the fast-offering envelope. Clint took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and rang the doorbell.
There was a sound of movement within the house. Then the front door opened slowly and Brother Ernest peered out. “What do you want?” he asked gruffly.
Clint swallowed hard. “We’re from the Church, Brother Ernest. We’re collecting fast offerings.”
“Don’t you people ever give up?” Brother Ernest grumbled. “Go away and stop bothering me.”
Clint was turning away when the front door suddenly opened wide, and Brother Ernest stepped out onto the porch. He peered closely at Clint. “Don’t I know you, boy?”
Clint stood up straighter. “Yes, sir.”
“Weren’t you that boy who—”
“Who bought you a new taillight? Yes, sir, I am.”
Brother Ernest stared at him in surprise for a few moments and then did something Clint had never seen him do before. He smiled. “You’ve changed, boy,” he said.
Clint shrugged. “When we do our part, the Lord takes care of the rest.”
Brother Ernest seemed to ponder Clint’s words a moment. He nodded. “You keep your envelope. I’ll pay my offerings next week at church. And I expect to see you there, too, young man. I don’t want to find you hiding in some apple tree.”
Clint smiled. “I don’t need to hide anymore.”

As we got off the bus, we saw a tent belonging to a bedouin family. Farther from the road, two or three children were watching a flock of sheep grazing there on the hills outside Bethlehem. Our tour group was finishing a two-week stay in Israel, and we had come to Shepherds’ Field for a testimony meeting.
As we sat on the rocky hillside and looked in one direction, we could see Bethlehem. If we looked slightly to the left in another direction, we could see Herodion, a fortified mountain atop which Herod the Great had built a luxurious palace complete with pools, gardens, and two hundred white marble steps. We had visited it earlier in the day. Now, looking at it, I felt as if it represented all the material successes one could ever wish for. On the other hand, the village of Bethlehem seemed to symbolize everything I had learned about Jesus during our visit to the Holy Land.
I looked back and forth, from Bethlehem to Herodion. The question came to me: Which am I choosing? Of course I want to follow the Savior. But are my day-to-day decisions and actions taking me in a different direction?
As we sang Christmas carols and shared testimonies, I thought of how easy it is to make the wrong things our first priority. How easy it is to expend a lot of time and worry on things that are unimportant in an eternal frame of reference. How easy it is to pretend that material possessions are forever! And how difficult it is to remember that Jesus said, “No man can serve two masters.” (Matt. 6:24.)
The question would not go away: Which direction am I going? Then, over and over again, almost like a prayer, I heard the words of the shepherds: “Let us now go even unto Bethlehem.” (Luke 2:15.)
I have thought of that experience often since returning home—the sun dropping behind the Judean hills, the flock of sheep nearby, and the peace I felt as I recommitted myself to worry less about the things of the world and to seek more diligently the kingdom of God.
Sometimes still I can hear the shepherds from that long-ago night on a hill far away, saying, “Let us now go even unto Bethlehem.” And I remind myself to choose wisely. Herodion lies in ruins, but Bethlehem remains.

Fifty-eight years ago, I knocked on the door of J. Roland Sandstrom, patriarch of the Santa Ana California Stake, with a recommend from my bishop to receive a patriarchal blessing. We had never met and would not meet again for 14 years. We met again 15 years later. This time, as one of the Twelve, I blessed him the day before he died.
The blessing was delivered by mail to my barracks at an air force base where I was stationed. I did not know then, as I know now, that a patriarch has prophetic insight, that his blessing would be more than a guide to me. It has been a shield and a protection.
The patriarch, who had never seen me before, made a promise that applies to every one of us. He told me to “face toward the sunlight of truth so that the shadow of error, disbelief, doubt and discouragement shall be cast behind you.” Many times I have gained strength from reading that patriarchal blessing, given by an inspired servant of the Lord.

President Spencer W. Kimball also recognized the benefits of taking on a challenging goal. He told this story of a goal he made when he was 14:

“When I heard a Church leader from Salt Lake City tell us at conference that we should read the scriptures, … I walked to my home a block away … and I read the first chapters of Genesis. …

“I found that this Bible that I was reading had in it 66 books, and then I was nearly dissuaded when I found that it had in it 1,189 chapters, and then I also found that it had 1,519 pages. It was formidable, but I knew if others did it that I could do it.”

That amount of reading wasn’t easy for a teenager, but nevertheless President Kimball persevered and completed his goal. As an adult, he said, “I have always been glad I read the Bible from cover to cover.”

President Kimball benefited from taking the time to think through the logistics of his goal. Even though it sounded daunting, the information prepared him to succeed. As was the case with President Kimball, reaching for and achieving a challenging goal at a young age can bring feelings of confidence and satisfaction to serve us throughout life.

Joseph’s own life united temple and school. During the fall of 1835 and the winter of 1836, while engrossed in final preparations for the house of the Lord in Kirtland, Joseph read and studied as never before, including at the Kirtland Hebrew School, where he was a strong and diligent student.

Joseph’s journal for November 11, 1835, records: “Attended school again, during school Hours.” And then: “Returned home and spent the evening, around my fire-side, teaching my family the science of grammar.” [40]

The next day, Joseph instructed Church leaders regarding the endowment of power, the washing of feet, and the solemn assembly. “You need an endowment brethren,” he said, “that you may be prepared and able to overcome all things.” “All who are prepared,” he added, “and are sufficiently pure to abide the presence of the Savior will see him in the solemn assembly.” A staggering promise. Then, the very next day: “Attended school during school hours.” [41]

And so it went throughout that memorable winter—stunning heavenly disclosures and stirring prophetic teachings, interwoven with the joyful labor of language study.

On November 20, 1835, Oliver Cowdery returned to Kirtland from a trip to New York. He brought with him, Joseph recorded, “a quantity of Hebrew books for the benefit of the school, he presented me with a Hebrew Bible, lexicon, and grammar, also a Greek lexicon and Webster’s English lexicon.” [42]

Joseph was delighted. He could hardly wait to dig in. He spent the next day, he said, “examining my books and studying the Hebrew alphabet.” [43] On December 23, Joseph’s 30th birthday, he celebrated “in the forenoon at home studying the Greek language.” [44]

Joseph clearly relished his studies. “My soul delights in reading the word of the Lord in the original,” he enthused, “and I am determined to pursue the study of languages until I shall become master of them, if I am permitted to live long enough.” [45]

When, at last, the day of dedication arrived on March 27, 1836, Joseph offered the prayer whose text he had previously received by revelation. [46] Two days later, Joseph “attended school” for the Hebrew class’s final session. That evening, the Saints gathered in the house of the Lord for sacred ordinances. “The Holy Spirit rested down upon us,” Joseph recorded, “and we continued in the Lord’s house all night, prophesying and giving glory to God.” [47] Five days later, on Easter Sunday, April 3, Joseph and Oliver Cowdery saw the resurrected Savior and received keys of power from Moses, Elias, and Elijah.

All of this points to an intriguing lesson about preparing to receive revelation. Joseph spent his time, not in ascetic contemplation, but in collective learning. He coupled quiet prayer with diligent study. He united temple and school.

I grew up in a house on the corner of Main Street in a small Idaho town. Often during the summer we would spend our afternoons and evenings in the front yard, playing on the grass or visiting with our neighbors.
One afternoon while we were playing in the yard, my youngest sister, who was only two years old, bolted out into the street. At the same moment, a truck with a couple of teenage boys from down the street screeched around the corner. My dad acted quickly and pulled my little sister out of the truck’s path. The boys in the truck shouted unkind and inappropriate words as they sped down the street.
I was angry, to say the least. I remember thinking someone should go down to the boys’ house and put them in their place. My sister could have been hurt or killed by their careless, dangerous driving.
I was glad when I saw my mother walking down the street, and I followed her. I was certain that the boys were going to be in big trouble. When we got to the house, the boy who had been driving answered the door. He was angry and defensive. He asked what we wanted and, to my surprise, my mother began to apologize. She said she was sorry that she had allowed her daughter to be so close to the street and told him she would watch my sister more carefully in the future.
Immediately the boy’s countenance changed. He apologized for driving so fast and for putting my sister in danger. He vowed to be more careful as he drove. After the short conversation, we returned home.
I still have never seen such an immediate change come over someone as it did over that boy that afternoon. We lived in that house for 11 more years, and in that time I never again saw the boy drive carelessly around the corner. As Proverbs 15:1 teaches, “A soft answer turneth away wrath: but grievous words stir up anger.” I imagine the outcome of the situation would have been very different if my mom would have approached angrily. Instead, two hearts were changed by the soft words of my mother.

As I pray for the Lord to open my eyes to see things I might not normally see, I often ask myself two questions and pay attention to the impressions that come: “What am I doing that I should stop doing?” and “What am I not doing that I should start doing?”
Months ago, during the sacrament, I asked myself these questions and was surprised by the impression that came. “Stop looking at your phone when you are waiting in lines.” Looking at my phone in lines had become almost automatic; I found it a good time to multitask, catch up on email, look at headlines, or scroll through a social media feed.
The next morning, I found myself waiting in a long line at the store. I pulled out my phone and then remembered the impression I had received. I put my phone away and looked around. I saw an elderly gentleman in line ahead of me. His cart was empty except for a few cans of cat food. I felt a little awkward but said something really clever like, “I can see you have a cat.” He said that a storm was coming, and he did not want to be caught without cat food. We visited briefly, and then he turned to me and said, “You know, I haven’t told anyone this, but today is my birthday.” My heart melted. I wished him a happy birthday and offered a silent prayer of thanks that I had not been on my phone and missed an opportunity to truly see and connect with another person who needed it.

Later in my life at Harvard Business School one of the most magnificent experiences was to be part of a study group which met every evening to review the case studies in preparation for being called on in class and discussing a case method study. I am so appreciative of the men I associated with in that study group and their willingness to share their intelligence and their background with one another. Once again, I urge you to think in terms of tutoring, mentoring, and being in study groups.

The Mia Maid class of the Fair Oaks Ward, Oakton Virginia Stake, undertook a special project so that they could donate money to the general mission fund of the Church. They already had experience in making wreaths for the doors of their own families. They then took orders from members in the ward and friends for wreaths made-to-order.
The girls were kept busy and during the project learned some bookkeeping methods to keep track of their expenses and profits. And in the middle, they learned some practical lessons about enduring to the end. They completed their project and joyfully donated the money, along with marked copies of the Book of Mormon for use by missionaries.

Seth bounced up and down in the back seat and sang a crazy song. “Please settle down, Seth,” Dad said. “I need to focus on driving.”
“I can’t settle down,” Seth said. “It’s just so awesome!”
Dad smiled. “I’m glad you’re excited to meet your new baby brother.”
When they got to the hospital, Seth raced to Mom’s room. He knew where it was because Mom had been there for five days already. She had to stay at the hospital because Baby Caleb was sick, and Mom was a little bit sick too. Seth had asked to see Caleb at least a bajillion times, but Mom always said, “Not yet.” She said that the doctors would decide when Caleb was strong enough for a visitor.
Today the doctor had called. Today was the day!
When Seth walked into Mom’s hospital room, she was already holding Caleb. Seth ran over to see his new baby brother. Caleb was tiny. He looked way smaller than Seth’s baby cousins. And there was something different about his nose and ears. He looked like a little elf!
“Hi, honey,” Mom said. “Come wash your hands, and then you can hold the baby.”
Seth washed his hands with special soap. He climbed onto the hospital bed next to Mom. She leaned over to hand him the baby. Dad helped Seth put his hands in just the right place.
Seth looked down at Caleb. “Hi, Caleb,” he said. “I’m your brother, Seth. You’re going to sleep in my room, and I can show you all my toys, and we can play at the park.”
Baby Caleb looked right at Seth. Seth thought he was the best baby ever.
When Seth’s arms got tired, Dad took a turn holding Caleb. Mom held one of Seth’s hands and looked into his eyes.
“Seth,” she said. “Do you remember in Primary when you learned about the plan of salvation?”
Seth nodded. That had been a good day. Sister Lopez had a moon and a star and a big planet earth on sticks. Seth got to hold the sun.
“Do you remember how we lived in heaven before we came to earth and how we are going back to heaven when we die?”
Seth nodded again.
“Baby Caleb is still very sick. And the doctor says that he won’t live very long. He is going to die soon and go back to heaven.”
Seth looked at Mom. He looked at Baby Caleb in Dad’s arms. Then he frowned. His throat felt tight. “But I love him. I want him to stay here and share my room and play with me. Doesn’t he want to stay too?”
Mom put her arms around Seth. “Of course he wants to be with us. We’re his family. But he will see us again.”
“He will?”
Mom nodded. “Dad and I were married in the temple. We were promised that our family could be together forever. You and Caleb will always be our children.”
“That means that Baby Caleb will always be your brother,” Dad explained. “And you’ll see him again in heaven.”
Seth was sad. He felt kind of mad too. But he thought about meeting Baby Caleb in heaven and smiled just a little. He reached out and rubbed Baby Caleb’s soft hair. “We’ll be brothers in heaven? That’s awesome.”
Mom kissed Seth’s cheek. “It is awesome.”

While I was president of the Southern States Mission, a schoolteacher loaned a book to one of our Mormon children; and when the book came back, in it was an Articles of Faith card, and that schoolteacher read it. She went to her minister and said, “Why can’t our church have something like this?” The minister could not give her any satisfactory explanation, and so she wrote a letter to the Bureau of Information here in Salt Lake City. They sent her literature, they sent us her name, the missionaries called on her, and she joined the Church.

There is one sport that everyone in Brazil loves—football. And there is no bigger football event than the World Cup. So when Fabiana Silva, a member of the Brasil Ward, Vitória da Conquista Brazil Stake, won a contest and got to attend the 1998 World Cup in France, she was thrilled! But she had no idea it would become a missionary opportunity.
The other contest winners couldn’t help noticing Fabiana’s standards as they attended football game after football game, and Brazil headed to the final game against France. They respected her modest dress, her positive attitude, and her clean language. That respect turned to disbelief, though, when she told them she would not be attending the championship because it was going to be held on Sunday.
Despite pressure and even ridicule from the group, Fabiana stood firm. Sunday found her reading scriptures in her hotel room because she didn’t know where to find a local chapel. Brazil lost; the group went home.
A few weeks later Fabiana was surprised to receive a letter from Fábio Fan, another contest winner from across the country. He told her he was impressed by her standards and that he was investigating the Church. Later he sent another letter—he had been baptized. Fábio then helped bring members of his family into the Church and served a mission.
Fabiana also served a mission, to Campinas, Brazil, where she was well prepared because she had already learned that “the most effective tract we will carry will be the goodness of our own lives and example.”

Because of who gave me the counsel and its foundation in sound doctrine, I believe it applies to you in your current situation. It came from my grandfather, Harold B. Lee, who was at the time serving as a counselor in the First Presidency of the Church.

I was in my third year at BYU and was struggling with the decision about what to be when I grew up. I was also looking for an eternal companion. I took my patriarchal blessing with me for a visit with grandfather and asked him to read it and then counsel with me about choosing a career. I hoped that somehow the patriarch's inspired blessing would trigger my grandfather to give me a list of career possibilities appropriate for me.

Grandfather read my patriarchal blessing and then looked up at me and said, "Well, that's a wonderful blessing, Alan. I'm impressed that you worry too much about the future." My heart sank. I was indeed worried about the future and the way we were starting out didn't give me much hope for getting straight answers to my questions.

He said, "Let me tell you briefly about my life and then give you the only counsel that I think makes sense given the way life unfolded for me and for others I have observed." He grew up in Clifton, Idaho. It's a little town in southern Idaho. Does anyone here know where Clifton is? It's on the border with Utah near Preston, Idaho, which most of you probably haven't heard of either. He said we always prayed for the "pillars of the Church," by which we meant the Brethren. "I could no more have imagined myself becoming one of them," he said, "than I could think of men landing on the moon, which seemed impossible in those days as well."

"When I came home from a mission," he continued, "farmers in our area, including my father, were really struggling economically and I decided I wanted to learn to do something other than farming to help out. I went to the University of Utah and found that I didn't have enough money to go to school and eat more than one meal a day." So he found some part-time work and then began to work full-time teaching at a local school, enrolling in extension courses and summer school to progress in his studies. When he graduated, his wife thought he could do better outside of education and he got a job selling encyclopedias and other materials throughout the intermountain western U.S. Then the commissioner of streets and public improvements in Salt Lake City died halfway through his two-year term and grandfather was appointed to fill out his term. He then ran for and was elected to his own two-year term.

During this same period of time he was called as stake president of the Pioneer Stake. The Great Depression occurred about the same time and of his 7,300 stake members, over 4,800 were either partially or wholly dependent on outside agencies for their livelihood. A majority of the high councilors and bishops in the stake were unemployed. They "dusted off the revelations," as he put it, and tried to take care of the members of the stake by helping them to band together and help each other.

In 1936 the First Presidency called grandfather to head up the "Church Security" program which soon became the Church Welfare Plan Program. In 1941 he was called as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve and when I spoke with him in 1971 he was serving in the First Presidency of the Church.

"Alan," he asked me, "do you think I could have planned my career?" He said that if had known what he was headed for he might have been like Jonah and run from these assignments. He went on: "The only counsel that makes sense for me to give is this: Don't live your life worrying about the future. You only have today. You can't do anything about yesterday either except repent or feel good. So here is my counsel about finding a career: Get up each day and recapture your testimony. That is, do the things that bring the spirit into your life: repent, study the scriptures, and pray for guidance. As you feel the enlightenment of the Spirit, consider what you can do that day to follow the impressions you get. Have faith; the Lord will guide you step by step, 'line upon line, here a little and there a little.'"

While walking down the hall of the Provo 24th–27th Ward chapel in the Provo Utah North Stake, my attention was drawn to a bulletin board on which was located an eye-catching photograph of a pyramid of young Scouts. A closer look indelibly impressed upon my mind the potential impact of Scouting, leaders, and parents, for drawn to the picture of each boy in the pyramid was a line, and at the end of the line appeared names of places both far and near, including Spain, Mexico, Oregon, Thailand, England, Arkansas, and Tahiti.
A desire to investigate further brought me to the home of the former Scoutmaster, Rex Craig, who told me that he had taken the picture in June 1970. At that time he had called members of the troop together to inform them that they had been selected by the YMMIA general superintendency as one of the top 50 troops in the Church with a ranking of #11. (In a later year their troop achieved a #3 rating.)
At the time, Brother Craig had 23 boys in his troop. All of the boys except one went on to achieve the rank of Eagle (the remaining boy lacked only two merit badges), and to date all but two have gone on to serve the Lord in the mission field.
When I asked how he accounted for this kind of activity, he said there were a couple of reasons: The boys were basically good, and, in general, there was excellent support from the homes and the bishopric. But he felt there was one other ingredient that contributed to the success; that ingredient was the application of the program of the Church in which leaders work together to build men. In this case it was the Scoutmaster and the deacons quorum adviser. He handed me a letter that he had received from William Jones, a deacons adviser who had served during the time the boys were in Scouting. The special ingredient is described therein. The letter reads:
“Dear Brother Craig:
“As I prepare to leave Utah, I feel it appropriate to express my feelings and impressions of Troop 194, both as a deacons quorum adviser and as a worker on the troop committee.
“You know of my deep respect for you as a man, but I need to expand this to include your unique role as Scoutmaster. The activities have often taxed your time to the limit, but time was still found to meet the sincere needs of both Scouts and parents, even a ‘confused committeeman’ on occasion. Many felt that after your son became an Eagle Scout your enthusiasm would die. On the contrary, each boy in Troop 194 has, in turn, become a son to you and achieved the Eagle rank. I know personally of the great love each boy has for you.
“As a deacons adviser I owe you much for assisting me in making the priesthood such an integral part of each boy’s life. In no other place is cooperation more important, and I personally feel that in no other area is it more present than in our ward. Because you were with us on Sundays and you allowed me to play an active role in Mutual and on campouts, every boy became our concern and gave the program a true completeness.
“I was privileged to work with a choice group of men, but my greatest joy came from the obvious source—the individual boy. I shall never forget my first outing with the boys to Silver Lake. I was critical and tried to oversee 20 active Scouts. I failed, of course, but by the second go-round things began to focus and I watched the patrol leaders function. I saw characteristics in boys then that will someday make them fine men and our future leaders. Clean speech, honesty, and other principles that were taught in priesthood lessons came alive as I watched our boys.
“Troop 194 has no perfect boy. We have had and will continue to have loud, fidgety, curious, active creatures called boys to love, appreciate, train, and say good-bye to as they head into future challenges, better prepared for having been a boy in our ward.”
In response to my question as to how this relationship between priesthood and Scouting could produce such good results, Brother Craig said, “Everything I’ve ever read or been taught in the scriptures seems to say, ‘Seek the best; cease to be idle; gain knowledge in thy youth; love thy neighbor; do your duty to God; obey; be loyal’; and the list goes on and on. It doesn’t take long to see that a boy’s time seeking, learning, obeying, competing, challenging, promising, and excelling is well spent. It’s not easy, and the boy isn’t happy 100 percent of the time. But he is growing, and he thinks a lot about life now and in the future, and in the end he feels like he’s done something. Though his Eagle badge is important to him, he soon realizes it is just a training step. He knows within himself, here was a challenge. He took it, and he conquered it. Even though it often meant ridicule, sacrifice, and even doing something he thought he could never do, he did it. If you want to see desire and courage, you just watch a boy who reaches the age of 12 and can’t swim. He may struggle, fail, fight, and fail. With determination he will try again, fail again, sometimes cry, but always pick himself up and go on. in the end he knows that he has succeeded at something he thought to be impossible.
“In case anyone should think that our goal in Scouting is to become the top troop in the Church, or 100 percent Eagles, or be awarded the most badges at a court of honor, let me straighten him out. There is only one goal and that is to return the best spirit and strongest character possible to our Father in heaven. This is our goal in priesthood and in Scouting. Scouting offers some tools to practice the principles taught in priesthood.”
Another look at the picture impressed upon my mind the impact that parents, leaders, and the gospel have had upon a closely knit group of boys and, in turn, the impact they are having upon the world: Italy, Taiwan, California, Belgium—Tenderfeet, Eagles, missionaries.

Dressed in red Light the World t-shirts, volunteers took to the streets of South Beach and the Durban harbour to clean.

This clean-up was in collaboration with the local government of Ethekwini and Gagasi FM, a local radio station in KwaZulu-Natal.

The cleaning campaign was part of the city’s ongoing efforts ofto keep the streets of Ethekwini clean, while creating an awareness on the proper disposal of waste.

With the cleaning spots identified, and the pickup truck arranged, members of the Church, Ethekwini Municipality and Gagasi FM with brooms on the one hand and refuse bags in the other, swept through the streets of South Beach and Durban harbour.

Tons of clothing items, plastics, polystyrene food packaging, and beverage bottles were collected.

When I was a youth of 18 years, our branch undertook the project of remodeling and enlarging a building which the Church had acquired to serve as a meetinghouse. At that same time, construction of the basketball court was begun, which of course was outdoors, as are all of the basketball courts in Argentina.
The members all helped with the work, thus making it possible to complete the projects. One of my jobs was to operate the cement mixer. I had to constantly add cement, sand, lime, and, of course, water. Having never done this type of work before, I knew very little about it. One day I was working along with a group of fine members preparing the cement base for the basketball court, a job which of necessity had to be completed that same day. Because of my lack of experience and due to the friction caused when cement, sand, lime, and water are mixed together, my hands became blistered by the end of the working day, and I had to wear bandages around my fingers for many days. Today I wear several scars on my hands which remind me of those happy days, of working together in a beautiful spirit of service.
I don’t recall the small incidents of the day, nor do I remember the names of all the people with whom I worked, but the scars are a constant reminder of the beautiful spirit of service, the love of the Lord’s work, and the deep feeling of brotherhood which we enjoyed on that occasion.

Markus sat in the temple with his new family. They were all dressed in white. Now that Markus was adopted, he was so excited to be sealed to his family!
Brother Ray stood up. He was the temple sealer. “This is a big day,” he said. “Do you know why?”
“Now we can be together forever,” Markus said. He looked at his parents and his big brother, Caleb.
“That’s right,” Brother Ray said. “In the temple we seal families forever.” He looked at Caleb. He asked, “Do you know how we can do that?”
Caleb smiled. “With the priesthood,” he said.
“That’s right. Heavenly Father gives us His power. We use it to bless people in big ways and little ways.”
The family knelt down. Caleb was already sealed to his parents. He watched while Markus was sealed to them too.
The sealing ended. Dad pointed to two mirrors. They faced each other across the room. “How far can you see in that mirror?” he asked.
Markus stood up tall. He saw his family in the mirror. He saw them over and over again. “Forever and ever!” he said.
Question for You
How has Heavenly Father blessed your family?
“Our family can be forever too. Isn’t that right, Caleb?” Dad said. “Now you and Markus can be forever brothers!”
“Yeah.” Caleb put an arm around Markus. “I waited a long time for a brother. I want to keep him forever!”