Gospel Story Finder

Our grandchildren are learning that when they make a choice, they also choose its consequences. Recently one of our three-year-old granddaughters refused to eat her dinner. Her mother explained, “It’s almost bedtime. If you choose to eat dinner, you are choosing ice cream for dessert. If you choose not to eat dinner, you are choosing to go to bed now, without ice cream.” Our granddaughter considered her two choices and then stated emphatically, “I want this choice—to play and eat only ice cream and not go to bed.”

As I thought about Cindy’s question, I remembered that Dad had once said that the feeling of warning we get when we’re tempted is from the Holy Ghost as He tries to keep us from doing wrong. I should have had a lot more of that feeling the day I thought I had to have a piece of licorice. I’d helped myself to a dime from Mom’s purse without asking, and I’d hardly felt guilty at all when I handed it to the clerk at the store.
The very next day Mom said, “Little chickie, if you’ll run and post Dad’s letter, I’ll pop a peach cobbler into the oven for lunch.” Katie and Shauna had already gone to Aunt Shirley’s on an errand, so I was the only little chick left.
Then Mom looked in her purse and said, “Oh, oh. I was certain I had just the right change for a stamp, but there’s only a dime left.”
She took everything out of her purse and shook it. “Hmmmm,” she said, “it looks like I’ll have to write a check before I can mail Dad’s letter. We’ll have to forget about the cobbler, because while I’m out I might as well run my other errands.”
“Oh, Mom, you’ve already made me hungry for cobbler. Can’t the letter wait until tomorrow?”
“No. Daddy said we must get it in the mail this morning.”
“What’re we having for lunch?” I asked.
“Tuna sandwiches. Please stay close to the phone. Sister Heaton is going to call me. Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I get back.”
I felt awful as I watched her drive away.
That was last year. As I thought about it now that I was baptized, I knew it was important for me to tell Mom about it. I’d give her one of my birthday dimes, too, to help make things right.

President Romney taught of the testimony-strengthening power of scriptures with this personal example:
“I urge you to get acquainted with [the Book of Mormon]. Read it to your children; they are not too young to understand it. I remember reading it with one of my lads when he was very young. … I lay in the lower bunk and he in the upper bunk. We were each reading aloud alternate paragraphs of those last three marvelous chapters of Second Nephi. I heard his voice breaking and thought he had a cold. … As we finished he said … , ‘Daddy, do you ever cry when you read the Book of Mormon?’
“‘Yes, Son, … sometimes the Spirit of the Lord so witnesses to my soul that the Book of Mormon is true that I do cry.’
“‘Well,’ he said, ‘that is what happened to me tonight.’”

Light spilled through the open door onto the cobblestone street outside. Behind the marble counter a 13-year-old boy slapped and pounded a fistful of dough into a flat circle and drizzled it with olive oil.
“Funghi o qualcos’altro? (Mushrooms or something else?),” he asked Casimiro.
“Funghi,” replied Casimiro, and Annalisa nodded her head in agreement. While on their way home from Mutual they had not been able to resist the yeasty, spicy aura hanging about the street near the neighborhood pizzeria and had stopped in for pizza.
The boy deftly smeared a ladleful of tomato sauce on the flattened dough and almost as quickly chopped up a fresh curd of mozzarella cheese, still dripping milk from the bowl it was snatched out of. He dashed coarse salt and pepper over the two pizzas and slipped a large wooden paddle under them one at a time. Taking a large straw broom from against the wall, he swept away the embers near the fire in the back of the oven. Without hesitation the wooden paddle soon deposited the pizzas on a fine layer of ash on the floor of the brick oven.
Near the door of the pizzeria, three of Casimiro’s neighbors were discussing in tones growing warmer every minute the merits of their favorite calcio (soccer) teams.
“The fire in the oven isn’t the only thing that’s cooking this evening,” chuckled Casimiro to Annalisa as they watched their pizzas roast and grow bubbly through the pizza oven’s open door.
Soon the mozzarella was running in milky rivers between crusty mountains of browned pizza dough, and the wooden paddle swished them from the fire. Still piping hot, the two pizzas were folded over, wrapped in paper, and held out to Casimiro and Annalisa. Each plunked 250 lira, about 50 cents, on the counter and turned to leave the pizzeria.
Outside the door the conversation had turned from soccer to the irresponsible driving habits of youth because a young girl crossing the street had just narrowly avoided being hit by a small motorbike. Casimiro and Annalisa dodged the discussion just as one of the participants began offering Casimiro the opinion that “in the old days, youth had more respect.”
Waving back at the men and laughing as they hurried down the cobblestones toward their homes, Casimiro and Annalisa finally bit into their steaming pizzas. Mutual had been over for about half an hour, and their parents would begin wondering where they were.

Vitaly: In Russia, as in many places, it is the norm for people to live together before marrying. After I proposed to Katya, some of my friends asked me how I could possibly marry her without knowing beforehand if we were personally compatible. They reasoned, as many also did with Katya, that the only way to really know whether she was right for me was to live with her for an extended period of time.
I told them that there is no need to live with a person to get to know him or her. I also tried to explain to my friends in a way that they could understand that I had prayed and received an answer that I should marry Katya. Having prayed about my decision, I had no fears about married life. I was excited and felt like a whole new life was unfolding before me. No one ever opposed or criticized me for taking this stand. In fact, they supported me in my decision.
Katya: When Vitaly proposed, my parents tried to talk me out of getting married. They thought it was too soon for us to be engaged and that I needed to know Vitaly better than I did. My boss at work told me the same thing and added, “You need to live together before you make a choice like that.”
I’m sad that people feel that way about marriage and family. I don’t think they understand how happy couples can be when they are married and sealed in the temple. The great love and happiness Vitaly and I felt at our marriage were made even stronger by the knowledge that we are sealed for eternity.

I know someone who had a pretty rough time keeping the commandments throughout his life: my brother. At an early age he became mixed up in drugs; even so, he tried his best to do what he knew was right. Three years ago, two of my best friends came to me with worried looks on their faces. They told me that my family had been trying to get ahold of me. My brother had passed away. I caught the next flight home. The funeral was the next day in Park City, Utah. There were so many people there. People who somehow found out about his death and, in a moment's notice, flew to Utah. My brother had a tough time keeping the commandments, but he knew how to be his "brother's keeper." That is why all those people where there. Each and every one of them had a story of how my brother helped them.

I am not saying, "Go do drugs but help out your fellow man." No. That is not what I am saying. If you want to be your brother's keeper, first be an example to him. God gave us commandments and we are to obey them. There is no leniency on that.

The reason I tell this story about my brother is because he understood that the worth of every soul is great. The most valuable lesson that my brother taught me, and I feel indebted to him for it, is that salvation is not just about me; it is about everyone.

On a recent trip to Illinois I took along the September New Era. It proved to be a good companion while I was waiting for planes. But it was on the return trip that it showed its true worth.
I met a woman from Missouri who had heard of our church from some missionaries but had told them she was satisfied with her religion. After talking for an hour I showed her the New Era and explained a little about our youth programs. She asked to read it, and she turned right to the story of Gary Sheide’s conversion. She read it, asking questions all the while. I prayed that in some way she would be touched by what she read. Three and a half hours later I said goodbye to her as we landed in Salt Lake City. I left the plane with a four-dollar check for a subscription to the New Era, her address, and high hopes. She is interested now, and I’d just like to say thanks to Gary Sheide, Elaine McKay, and the New Era for helping me talk about the gospel. It was a beautiful and new experience.
Laurie A. McCauslandPleasant Grove, Utah

“One of my most vivid memories is of the irrigation reservoir that my father built. During the week we used to play in the reservoir. I got a couple of railroad ties and made a raft on which I could sail. Frequently we went swimming in the reservoir. One time the reservoir sprung a leak in its bank along the outlet pipe. It started as a little trickle but soon became a large stream. Before we could stop the leak, the water had washed away part of the dike that served as the bank of the reservoir. Several men from around the neighborhood tried to help by shoveling in dirt, throwing in rocks, and stacking sandbags, but they were unable to control the escaping water, which did a great deal of damage by washing away the crops that were below it. Many times after that I had a kind of nightmare dream about our farm being washed away.
“When I was older, my father permitted me to have a little bit of land of my own to cultivate. I planted raspberries, blackberries, dewberries, and all kinds of garden produce to supplement our food supply. I used to get a seed catalog every year, and I loved to look at those beautiful pictures of radishes, carrots, tomatoes, cucumbers, strawberries, watermelons, cantaloupes, etc., and imagine what I could produce by putting a few seeds into the ground. I loved the soil, and I loved to see things grow.
“I think that I learned more on the farm that helped me to succeed in life than I did in any other place. It was while farming that I learned how to work consistently, joyfully, and to the best of my ability. I was motivated by my own enthusiasm, without any prompting from others.”
Elder Sill wishes to impart this message to the children of the world: “In our preexistence, we lived with God, who is our Teacher and our Eternal Heavenly Father. And by the quality of our lives there, we earned the right to be born and to live now.
“What a great time it is to grow up under the most favorable conditions that have ever been known upon our earth. Many of you will have all of the education you could possibly desire. The gospel has been restored in a fulness never before known so that the pathway to eternal life is now brilliantly lighted and perfectly marked. No one need get off that strait and narrow way leading to the celestial kingdom, except by his own choice. God, who is concerned about our destiny, will abundantly bless us if we will always remember to serve and to worship Him.
“The best success formula that I know of in the world is to keep the Lord’s commandments with no exceptions permitted. In the words of Dicken’s Tiny Tim, ‘God bless us, every one.’”

“Grandpa plays the piano and violin and so do I. I really enjoy hearing him, especially when he plays his two favorite pieces. He once told me about playing the violin at his high school graduation program. His sister Helen, who played the piano for him, whispered, ‘Would you like to tune up?’ ‘No,’ he said and he played the entire number a half note off from the pitch of the piano. I guess it sounded pretty bad.”

For example, try to imagine how fragile the threads upon which hangs this account of temple opportunity. With permission I will tell you the story of an older man and wife who were given a gift subscription to the Church News and the Ensign magazine. This in spite of the fact that neither of them were members of the LDS Church. As these gifts arrived each month the couple devoured their contents; and after one year when the subscription ran out, they re-subscribed on their own and continued to enjoy them as the years came and went. Here is the next fragile thread: The bishop of the ward was reviewing his magazine subscription list. He saw the couple's name. Not recognizing them as members of his ward, he began to investigate. Discovering that they were not members of the Church in any ward, he was impressed to send the missionaries. And (most importantly) he acted upon his inspiration—another fragile complexity.

These good people were taught the gospel. They believed and asked to be baptized. After the qualifying progress had been made, they came to the Billings Montana Temple to be sealed. Their two children, who had each one died in infancy, were ultimately sealed with them into an eternal family unit. At the conclusion of this remarkable chain of events, the mother — contemplating the meaning of it all — spoke softly, "O, forever. I can't believe it."

She and her family were now included as recipients of the temple's highest ordinances and most sacred opportunities. They had come to know that the temple is the Lord's great instrument of inclusion. That while only a short time ago they were simply subscribers to a magazine — they were now "no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God."

I live in the city of San Salvador in El Salvador, and I love to prepare names for temple ordinances.
The Relief Society sisters in my branch asked if I could learn to index names using the FamilySearch program. I wanted to help. My mother also wanted me to help, so we began learning how to index together.
When I first started, it took me a whole day to index nine names. But now, after working hard and practicing, I can index 300 names in a day.
After finishing my homework, I spend time indexing names. For me, indexing is as fun as playing or watching TV. But I know that it has a greater purpose.
Heavenly Father blessed me with the opportunity to help prepare names for temple ordinances for more than 2,000 of my Salvadorian ancestors in the spirit world.

Next I would hope to learn the principle of acceptance. And I would learn that from President Hugh B. Brown, a man who on many occasions has spoken to you here, a man who for seven years has said good-bye to his sweetheart each morning, as she has been confined to her bed, paralyzed from a stroke. And yet he is encouraged by her example. She’ll whisper good-bye; she’ll whisper hello; but that’s about the extent of what Sister Brown can say. As I see that loyal husband and father say good-bye to his wife and speak of her, I think of the time when he and I came to Brigham Young University a few years ago, when I was to give a commencement message. As we left President Brown’s home, and he entered the car, he said, “Before we leave, wait a moment.” He took from his pocket a handkerchief, and he waved it out the window of the car. I looked toward the home and saw Sister Brown, sitting in a wheelchair in front of the window, waving her handkerchief back. He said, “Now we can go.”
I said, “No, President Brown, I want to know what’s all this about the waving of the handkerchief?”
He said, “From the first day we were married, when I heard a rap at the window as I walked down the pathway and turned and saw Sister Brown waving a handkerchief, I fumbled around and found one and waved back, and that has been a sign between the two of us that everything would be all right until we were together again that evening.” What a beautiful lesson from which I might learn an important principle in life.

While recovering at the clinic, Elder Navarro received visits from Luis Palomino, a friend from his hometown who was attending school in Lima. Although his injuries made it difficult for him to speak with Luis, Elder Navarro began sharing the missionary lessons.
Luis was surprised and impressed by Elder Navarro’s decision to finish his mission. “I want to know what is motivating you,” Luis told him. “Why is your faith so great?”
“I want to know what is motivating you. Why is your faith so great?”
Six weeks after the explosion, Elder Navarro left the clinic and started serving at the mission office in Lima. The threat of terrorism still loomed, and he was afraid every time he saw a car like the one that exploded. At night he struggled to sleep.
One day, Luis came to the mission office to visit Elder Navarro. “I want to be baptized,” he told him. “What do I have to do?”
Over the next few weeks, Elder Navarro and his companion taught Luis the rest of the lessons at a nearby chapel. Elder Navarro was excited to teach a friend, and Luis eagerly completed all the goals he set with the missionaries.
On October 4, 1990, Elder Navarro performed Luis’s baptism. Although Elder Navarro was still suffering from his injury, the ordeal had made it possible for him to baptize a friend from his hometown—something he never expected to do. After Luis came out of the water, they embraced, and Elder Navarro felt the Spirit strongly. He knew Luis could feel it too.
To commemorate the occasion, Elder Navarro gave Luis a Bible. “When the days get dark,” Elder Navarro wrote on the inside cover, “just remember this day, the day you were reborn.”

Moisés swung open the gate and walked into the car parts shop. School was over, and it was time to help Papá at work. Moisés grabbed a broom and started to sweep. He liked to help Papá. He even got to earn some money.
Soon it was time for Moisés to leave. He said goodbye to Papá and started to walk home. He felt sad as he walked. It always felt strange to go home without Papá. Moisés’s parents were separated. He and his seven siblings lived with Mamá. Papá lived somewhere else. Mamá worked three jobs because they didn’t have much money. It was a hard time for all of them.
One day there was a knock at the door. It was two missionaries. They shared a message about Jesus Christ. They also taught about a prophet named Joseph Smith. Moisés felt something special inside as he listened.
The missionaries kept coming back to teach Moisés, Mamá, and some of his siblings. Moisés and his family started going to church. They read the Book of Mormon. They stopped drinking coffee. They even chose to be baptized!
Moisés learned that Heavenly Father loved him. And even though things were still hard for his family, he felt more comfort and peace.

Illustrations by Shauna Mooney Kawasaki
Matt: Do you know what I’m thankful for, Grandpa?
Grandpa: Rocky-road ice cream?
Matt: No. Well, yes. But do you know what I’m even more thankful for?
Grandpa: Pepperoni pizza with double cheese?
Matt: You’re smart, Grandpa! But I mean do you know what I’m even more thankful for than my very most favorite and scrumptious food?
Grandpa: What?
Matt: You.
Grandpa: Oh. Well. Wow! I’m honored, Matt. Because I’m grateful for you too. So grateful that I want to be your grandpa forever. Shall we both do all we can to make sure that happens?
Matt: That’s like asking if we should both have a double scoop of rocky road.
Grandpa: What a brilliant idea!

Father wasn’t interested in a “new” religion, and if James Reed hadn’t had bloody feet, Father wouldn’t have let him in that cold, snowy night. When Brother Reed told the family about the Book of Mormon, Father issued him a challenge: “If it’s true, we’ll listen to all that you have to tell us.” If upon reading it, Father believed Brother Reed to be a liar, however, he would be thrown out of the house. Father started to read it that very night. …
Early the next morning, Mary Ann awoke when she heard an ax behind their cabin. Sleepily she snuggled back under the covers. The cabin would soon be warm. Father was building a fire. Then, hearing her father’s voice downstairs, she sat straight up. Father wasn’t chopping wood! Who was? Wrapping a shawl around her, she hurried down the ladder.
The front door opened as Brother Reed came in with an armful of wood. On top was a pile of kindling to help get the fire going. “Good morning to you all,” he said cheerfully. “The snow’s stopped, and the air is clear. It’s a beautiful day.”
“You shouldn’t be up and about on those feet,” Mother said.
He winked at Mary Ann. “Warm woolen socks do wonders for a pair of sore feet.”
Mary Ann winked back. She looked at her father. Although he didn’t say anything, she could tell that he was pleased that the stranger would help with the chores.
When Anna began to fuss in her cradle, Brother Reed gently picked her up so that Mother could continue to cook breakfast. Father opened the book the stranger had brought and began to read more of it.
Mary Ann crossed over to Brother Reed. He looked like he knew how to hold babies. “Do you have any children?”
He nodded and looked sad for a moment. “I have a wife and two tiny boys in Kirtland, Ohio.”
Mother stopped stirring the porridge. “You left them to preach the gospel?”
He nodded as he continued to gently jounce the baby. “My wife, Alice, believes the gospel as strongly as I do. She waits patiently for me to return. The Lord will provide for her.”
When breakfast was ready, they all sat down around the rough table. Father turned to Brother Reed. “Would you like to offer a word of prayer?”
“Surely, but may I quote a scripture first?” At Father’s nod, Brother Reed said: “‘And behold, the third time they did understand the voice which they heard; and it said unto them:
‘Behold my Beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased, in whom I have glorified my name—hear ye him.
‘And it came to pass, as they understood they cast their eyes up again towards heaven; and behold, they saw a Man descending out of heaven; and he was clothed in a white robe; and he came down and stood in the midst of them.’”*
Then he gave a blessing on the food and all those that lived in the house.
“That scripture you quoted,” Mother said. “I don’t remember hearing it before.”
“It’s from the Book of Mormon. It’s about Jesus Christ’s appearance to the people here in the Americas after His resurrection.”
Mary Ann felt that warm feeling wash all over her again. She felt good at church when Parson Grimes taught, but this was different. It seemed to fill her whole soul. While they were eating, she shyly asked, “Is this Apostle you talked about close by? I’ve never seen an Apostle of the Lord before. Could we hear him preach?”
Brother Reed smiled at her. “Tomorrow is the Sabbath, and we have received permission to preach in Pastor Grimes’s church. If you come with me at ten o’clock tomorrow morning, you’ll get to meet a true Apostle of the living God.” He looked around the table. “You’re all invited. Will you come?”
Mother looked at Father. He nodded.
Mary Ann’s family always observed the Sabbath, so all their work had to be finished on Saturday. Never had she worked so eagerly! The next day she would actually see an Apostle of the Lord!
At ten o’clock the little log chapel bulged with people gathered to hear the Mormon preachers. Mary Ann and her family sat next to her best friend, Betsy, and her family.
As Mary Ann looked up at the face of Brigham Young, she thought That is an Apostle of Jesus Christ! She listened carefully to all he said, and again she felt that warm feeling telling her that he spoke the truth. She whispered to Betsy, “Can you believe you’re actually seeing one of the Lord’s Apostles?”
Betsy glared at her. “You’re crazy! My father says these men are imposters. God stopped speaking to men on earth years ago. We don’t need Apostles—we have the Bible.”
Suddenly anger welled up inside Mary Ann. How could her best friend be so blind. Tears flowed down her cheeks, she rushed outside. Betsy followed her.
“I suppose you believe them,” Betsy sneered. “I suppose you’re going to be baptized.”
Mary Ann felt hate in her heart just then. She glared at her friend. “Yes, I am! And you’ll be sorry someday that you didn’t. You’re just too stupid to understand.”
“No, I’m not,” Betsy answered. “And I won’t be sorry, because I’m not fooled by them.”
Mary Ann ran around the corner of the church and leaned against a tree. How can Betsy be so blind? she wondered. How can she be so mean to me?
Mother walked toward her. “I saw you run out of the meeting. Is something wrong?”
“Betsy thinks they’re fakes. I hate her! How can she be so stupid. Doesn’t she feel anything?”
Mother gave her a hug. “Do you remember what the Savior did when someone didn’t believe Him? What He did when they hurt Him?”
Mary Ann hung her head. “He forgave them.”
“Yes, and He prayed for them. Even on the cross, He prayed for them.” She hugged Mary Ann again. “When you feel better, come back to the meeting. Brother Young will not be here forever.”
After she left, Mary Ann still felt angry. But it was cold outside, so she went home. Climbing to the loft, she knelt by her bed and prayed that she could forgive Betsy. Then she prayed that Betsy would listen to the message of these men.
When she finished, she felt better. Maybe Betsy would never listen, but it was Mary Ann’s job to be a friend and to understand. She climbed down from the loft and started back to the meeting. If Betsy was still there, Mary Ann would apologize for getting angry. Maybe later Betsy would listen to the message of the true gospel.
(To be continued)

Every member a missionary. “Sure, I want to be a missionary but I’m embarrassed.”
“It’s hard to do.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I don’t want to force the gospel on others.”
So, what would you think of a simple approach that allowed you to introduce scores of friends and acquaintances to the Church or gospel principles—while you are doing your school work?
Karen and Susan Jacobs of Walnut Creek, California, found it fun and rewarding. It started when Karen was in the fifth grade at the American School in Copenhagen, Denmark. She was looking for a subject for a rather ambitious American history report. The teacher called for footnotes, bibliography, note cards, and oral reports—everything. Her biggest challenge was to choose a subject. Her parents suggested that she do her report on the Mormon trek westward.
“Why not?” she said.
Once started it was an easier topic to write on than most, with all that help at home, her interest, and her background on the subject from Primary and Sunday School.
Few in the class knew much about the Mormons, and the oral report, filled with interest-raising points, created a lively discussion for months afterwards. She got an A grade too!
Once they discovered the approach, the Jacobs sisters used it, with variations, on numerous occasions. For example, eighth-grader Susan created interest in a science lecture on the effects of smoking by cutting a calf’s heart in class (she had been taught where to cut and how the heart worked by George Washington University medical student Milo Andrus, who also supplied surgical gloves and scalpel). Such a graphic presentation by a petite girl made quite an impression on the class—and they got a strong Word-of-Wisdom explanation at the same time. The grade was A!
The heart lesson was so well accepted that Karen used a calf’s brain in her science fair presentation on the effects of narcotic drugs and won a prize. Again, she included an easy-to-give, easy-to-understand-and-accept explanation on one phase of the Lord’s law of health.
As an eleventh-grader (in a school system that has 12 grades) at Washington-Lee High School in Arlington, Virginia, Karen was very angry to find a derogatory portrayal of the Prophet Joseph and the Church in her history book. It described Joseph Smith as a farmer who moved from place to place digging for buried treasure. She pointed out the inaccuracies to her teacher who responded by asking if she would like to give a class presentation on early Church history. Karen was afraid but accepted. She got out her fifth-grade report. With the addition of the Joseph Smith story and a few other items, it was just the right thing. As it turned out it took the whole class period. The teacher right away asked Karen to repeat the report in his afternoon class. There were dozens of thoughtful questions which led to the missionaries being invited to explain more.
Although there were only three LDS seniors in her graduating class of 800, Karen’s senior government class was given the privilege of hearing four oral presentations on Church subjects. Karen spoke on the United Order, Mike Miller on the nutritional aspects of the Word of Wisdom, and Mark Forsyth on Church government. The bonus came when a nonmember friend, impressed by her visit made prior to the dedication of the Washington Temple, and with help from her LDS friends, reported on the Mormons as temple builders.
The willingness of Karen, Susan, and their friends to try this approach had wide-reaching effects. Virtually everyone in the school knew them as the Mormons. Located in a major suburb of Washington, D.C., the school was largely composed of children of foreign diplomats, congressmen, and other military and government officials; yet, the school was full of drug users, crude language, immorality, nonexistent dress standards, and hundreds of students without fixed standards or ideals. But the tiny LDS group was recognized and respected by teachers and students alike for what they believed in. None was treated with derision or given any trouble. In fact, it was most helpful in avoiding unwholesome activities to be able to say, “Remember, that’s not something Mormons do.”
Perhaps it was due in part to this early willingness to dig into gospel subjects and share LDS teachings that today Karen is taking time out from her studies in the Brigham Young University honor program to serve a mission to Spain and Susan has only a few months to wait for her mission call.
A great prophet of the Lord called on every member to be a missionary. Can you imagine the impact on teachers and students if every LDS student were to write or give just one report each year on the Church? Even in areas of heavy Church membership, many nonmembers have never been given real exposure to our teachings. What easier way to lengthen your stride and please President Kimball? Try it. Or to quote that motto in our beloved prophet’s office, “Do it!”

Fortunately, I was able to create a successful consulting business, successful enough so that after several years of hard work, I was able to pay off our home mortgage and to put aside some savings. At that time, I realized, thanks to my wife’s suggestion, I could work a little less and spend more time helping with our most important responsibility: our children. The month after making the last payment on our home mortgage I received a call from Salt Lake. That led to our receiving a mission call to preside over the Switzerland Geneva Mission. How grateful I was to have chosen to turn to the Lord during that previously very difficult period of my life. Though I had planned to spend more time with my family, we were grateful to show the Lord our willingness to keep the covenants we had made with Him—to let Him prevail in our lives.

“Our first night out after starting on our journey, we camped on the prairie; Father had unyoked the cattle and turned them out to feed on the grass. He had to look after them to keep them from straying away. We had picked up enough fuel to make a good fire and Mother was preparing supper, when all at once there came up a most terrific thunderstorm. The rain poured down in torrents and we were all drenched. Although we got into the wagon as soon as we could, the wind blew the rain with such force that the wagon was very little protection. Of course, the fire was put out which didn’t help the preparations for supper that night. However, the next morning the sun shone bright, everything got dry, and we continued on our journey.”

It is interesting to note that in addition to such testimonies about President Monson’s loyalty to the elderly, many unsolicited testimonials of his equally urgent concern for the youth of the Church are also offered. There is something perpetually youthful about President Monson which allows him to relate to all the members of the Church, but especially the young. He loves them, is conscious of them, and is devoted to their spiritual success.
Immediately after young Tom Monson’s discharge from the navy following the conclusion of World War II, he was called to serve as a ward clerk. One evening he sat silently taking minutes while the bishopric agonized over the obvious lack of success with the young people in their ward, including challenges within the MIA program. Apparently the young clerk took it about as long as he could and then said, “Excuse me, brethren, but may I say something about the MIA and the youth challenges in this ward?” He then launched into a rapid-fire and profound summary of not only what was wrong with their ward youth program but what could rather quickly make it right. Then, realizing he may have been too bold and too presumptuous, he said, “Forgive me. I think I have said too much,” and excused himself from the room.
He was no sooner out the door than the bishopric looked at each other and said, “What are we waiting for?” They immediately called him back into the room, released him as ward clerk, and called him to be the superintendent of the MIA. In six months the 6–7th Ward combined program, with its totally committed young superintendent, was the example to which every other leader in the Temple View Stake looked for their own youth activities.
That lifelong devotion to youth is currently reflected in President Monson’s 25 years of service on the National Executive Board of the Boy Scouts of America, a longer term of service rendered than that of any other man who has ever been seated in that distinguished circle. Jere B. Ratcliffe, Chief Scout Executive for the Boy Scouts of America, says, “I don’t know any person about whom I could say more good things than I can say about Tom Monson. For me, Tom personifies enthusiasm in its original meaning—‘God within,’ or literally ‘inspired.’ He lights up every meeting he is in. The LDS Church is blessed to have such a leader of youth.”
One associate says that President Monson relates well to youth “because he is still just a boy at heart. Have you ever seen him at a Utah Jazz or collegiate game? He follows every play with keen personal interest. Tom is a big man with big responsibilities, but he still displays the enthusiasm of youth.”
Somehow that observation rings true, especially when we realize that this is the 12-year-old boy who, when making his first visit to the Seagull Monument on famed Temple Square, spent time wondering how a person could get those nickels and dimes, which had been thrown there by the slightly more contemplative, out of the reflecting pool. Actually, Tommy Monson was very touched by that visit to Temple Square, returning to his ward to give the first talk he ever delivered—on that wonderful pioneer story of the seagulls and the crickets.