Gospel Story Finder

The Prophet Joseph was a great exemplar, not only of this principle but also of having total faith and confidence in the promises of the Lord. I should like to share with you an entry from the diary of my great-great grandmother. This is a record of a little-known experience of the Prophet Joseph—little known because this diary was lost for 30 to 40 years in my mother’s home in New Jersey. It was only rediscovered as they were preparing to move back to Utah in the late 1970s. This is a diary entry of Sister Sarah Stoddard. Her son Charles, my great-grandfather, as a boy of 14, was asked by the Prophet Joseph to serve as a houseboy for William Law, an enemy of the Prophet, and to inform him of any of the Laws’ devious plans. It was, I guess, an early form of counterintelligence.

Note the date of the diary entry: April 1844. It was just two months before the Martyrdom of the Prophet.

Dear Diary,
Charles had another faith-promoting experience last night.

Early this morning, even while the darkness still hemmed out the light of the day, Mr. Law, after he had been drinking and planning with his associates through the night, got Charles out of bed to clean and oil his gun. He said he was going to shoot the Prophet, only William Law called him “old Joe Smith.” Poor Charles was frightened beyond description, but Mr. Law stood over him and prodded him with his foot when Charles hesitated through fright and anxiety. Finally, when Mr. Law was satisfied with the way the gun was working, he put one bullet in. (He boasted he could kill the Prophet with one shot.) He sent Charles to bring the Prophet.

He ran as fast as he could and delivered the message, but he begged the Prophet not to go to Mr. Law’s as Mr. Law was drunk and Charles was afraid he would carry through on his threat to shoot the Prophet in cold blood.

As they walked the few blocks from the Mansion House to the Law residence, the Prophet assured Charles that no harm would come to him that day. Charles was frightened, and he said that it kept racing through his mind, “I am the one that cleaned the gun that is going to be used to kill the Prophet,” until he was sick with fear. The Prophet in a final attempt to calm my dear son uttered the fateful words, “Mr. Law may someday kill me, Charles, but it won’t be today.”

As they approached their destination, Mr. Law came staggering out of the house shouting out what he intended to do.

The Prophet said kindly and unafraid, “You sent for me, Mr. Law?” to which Mr. Law replied with oaths that now he was doing the whole a favor by disposing of the Prophet with one shot.

Calmly the Prophet unbuttoned his shirt and bared his chest, then said, “I’m ready now, Mr. Law.” Charles said at this point he nearly fainted. Sick fear strangled him until he was speechless and paralyzed, unable to move a muscle.

Mr. Law paced a few steps, turned, aimed, and pressed the trigger. There was complete silence. Then the air rang with profanity, and Mr. Law turned on Charles, accusing him of fixing the gun so it would not go off and threatening to kill even Charles—my innocent, frightened, but faithful son.

The Prophet, to divert Mr. Law’s blame of Charles, suggested that a can be placed on a fence post for Mr. Law to take a practice shot. Relieved, Charles ran for a can and laid it on its side on the post. Mr. Law paced back, took aim, and fired. His “one shot” streaked through the exact center of the can.

Even Mr. Law was quiet, as if stunned.

The Prophet buttoned up his shirt, gave Charles a meaningful look, and then said, “If you are finished with me now, Mr. Law, I have other things needing to be done. Good morning. [Diary of Sarah Stoddard; text modernized]”

One situation featured the Donald Mabey family. Brother Mabey had moved his family from Salt Lake City to North Bay, Ontario, because of a business transfer by his company. Don was an elder in the Church but had been less than fully active in priesthood callings. He was about thirty-five years of age at the time and had a lovely family. The North Bay Branch was a struggling unit desperately in need of priesthood leadership. When I attended that branch and recognized this fact, I held an interview with Brother Mabey and said to him, “I am calling you to serve in the presidency of the North Bay Branch.”

He replied, “I can’t do it.”

I asked, “Why?”

He answered, “I have never done it before.”

“That’s no hindrance,” I responded. I took fresh hope from Don’s name, Mabey, and the words of a once-popular ballad, “Please don’t say no—say maybe.”

Brother Mabey said yes. Today he is a high priest living here in the West. All of his family members have entered temple doors and have received temple blessings.

At this time Peter was going through a series of 28 operations to reconstruct his features and correct injuries suffered in his accident. He was approached by his bishop who asked what he would be doing if he could do anything he wanted.
Quickly it slipped out because it was a great desire of mine, but it seemed so totally impossible. I said, “I’d love to serve a mission.” And without even thinking twice he said, “Well, let’s get you ready.” I said, “Oh, bishop, I can’t do that.” I started to go over my finances and how much I owed and how my leg had not healed yet and all the operations I faced and the way people related to me. But he just said, “Let’s get you ready.”
The bishop called Peter to teach Sunday School, and after several trying times, Peter had some good experiences in teaching the Gospel Doctrine class. He was working several jobs to help pay his hospital bills. He had several more operations scheduled, and he was beginning to think seriously about his future. Some friends came one day to ask him to go to a stake dance that evening with them. Although he wanted to go, he refused. It took them six hours of talking to convince him to try going to the dance.
As I entered the foyer, I noticed that all the kids started looking at me, and I noticed some girls over by the coat rack. A couple of girls whispered, they didn’t know I could hear them, “Look at that guy. I sure hope he doesn’t ask me to dance.” Once again an ugly feeling shrouded my whole being.
I found a place behind the young men up near the band. I claimed a 60 cm square piece of board as my territory. I was going to own it for those hours at the dance.
At intermission his friends tried to encourage him to dance. They started pulling him out onto the floor. During the intermission, he resolved that as soon as the band began playing again, he would ask a girl to dance.
As soon as the music started, I remembered my commitment. I refused to think about my appearance and I went right out there to dance. I knew if I didn’t do it then, I would be a coward for the rest of the night.
He reached the section of the floor where the girls had congregated. He approached one girl from the back. When he touched her on the shoulder to ask for a dance, she turned and screamed. Embarrassed, she ran out of the ball, pushing her way through the crowd. It was just like the store. The band stopped; everyone stopped to see what was the matter. He returned to his place. His friends tried to comfort him, and the dance started again.
I wanted to shout; I wanted to get out of there. And this small voice deep down inside me said, “Peter, you can’t run now; you’ll be running for the rest of your life.” Another strange thing started to happen. My legs started to move across the floor. I watched myself go out there to ask another girl to dance. I had strength beyond my own power. It was like my spirit was up above me saying, “What are you doing? You’ve got to get back. Are you a glutton for punishment.” As I was walking across the floor, I was having this argument saying yes and no and yes and no. This small voice inside me kept reassuring me. It said, “Peter, you must keep asking them to dance. Don’t turn and run because you’ll be running forever.”
He asked a girl to dance every dance for the rest of the evening. He was discouraged when only two girls the entire evening would dance with him. That night as he knelt in prayer, Peter was one bitter young man.
Everything seemed to come together—all the pressure of the people, the way they treated me and stared at me and pointed at me, and all the operations that were left to be done. I still did not really know if they could correct my eyes and give me some eyelids, a normal mouth, and a nose. This feeling of ugliness came upon me, and in my anger, I said to my Father in Heaven, “There is a scripture that promises that we will not be tempted beyond our capacity to resist. I need that now.” I went to bed. The next morning I was blessed with a peace and a calmness that has stayed with me ever since. And regardless of how the world treated me from that point on. I was normal. My Father in Heaven just gave peace to me as He promised. If we live the commandments, he will give us what we need. He gave me a peace and a calmness so I was normal from that day on. Yes people would still react the same toward me, but I was different.

Jesus said, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.” (Rev. 3:20.) Although this expression is figurative, I know that Jesus will keep the spiritual meaning of the promise. He will communicate with us, and we can come to know him as if he had dined with us. A personal experience may tell you how this can happen.

About a year ago, I was driving home from an extended backpacking trip with my 11-year-old son. As we traveled along in silent thought, he startled me with a question I was not quite prepared for: “Dad, how do you think it would be if I went on a mission for the Church to Canada?” His older brother and I had both been on LDS missions to Canada, and so this was not what startled me. Instead, I was wondering how God could know my little son well enough among all the millions of children on earth to fashion a special mission just for him. As I pondered this notion while driving along the road, something warm and wonderful, wonderful beyond description, passed through me. I know it was the Spirit of God. The still, small voice had whispered to me: “I know you and your son better than you know yourselves. I love you with a great love.”

This is only one of the many ways that I have come, through the Spirit, to know of the reality of God. He is near us and wants us to know him. The trouble is that we are too far from him. But if we will draw near to him in faith and repentance, he will draw near to us. His Spirit will teach us of him. I do not think there is another way—not through science or any other way except as he has appointed.

Photographs courtesy of Sherry LaBoon
A troop of Latter-day Saint Boy Scouts from Georgia, USA, were on their way to a high-adventure campout when they came across a family in need of some extra muscle. A mother, father, and their five kids had been out on a hike when the mom had fallen and broken her leg only five minutes before the Scouts showed up.
The family was a mile and a half away from their car. They were also outside cell phone range. The only solution was to carry the mother back to the car. The Scouts immediately put their own plans on hold to help the family. One of the Scouts had a cot in his car, so two Scouts made the three-mile round-trip run to bring the cot back to the injured mother. The troop members took turns carrying the injured woman over rough terrain for an hour and a half.
The young men don’t believe it was merely chance that they showed up at the right place at the right time. “I know we were supposed to be there,” says Alex J., one of those involved in the rescue. “God put us in that place at that time so we could help her.”

I had the opportunity on a Monday in December to present a family home evening lesson to four of our grandchildren. We talked about the Wise Men finding the Baby Jesus. The three youngest boys, usually quite rambunctious, were unusually attentive that night and so I was able to put my energy into trying to help them learn something from that story that they could apply to their own lives.

I took them through the story this way: The Wise Men saw a star in the east and followed it traveling to Jerusalem, asking, "Where is he that is born King of the Jews? for we have seen his star in the east, and are come to worship him."[1]

King Herod heard of their quest and inquired of his chief priests and scribes where Christ was to be born. They told him it had been prophesied that He would be born in Bethlehem of Judaea.[2] And so, with evil intentions, Herod sent the Wise Men to Bethlehem and instructed them to search diligently and return and bring him word. The Wise Men departed, ". . . and, lo, the star, which they saw in the east, went before them, till it came and stood over where the young child was."[3]

I asked my grandchildren what it might have been about the Wise Men that allowed them to have the "gift of a star."

We talked about the Wise Men being wise and knowing what to look for; but I also wanted to teach them about another light, a light besides the star, that worked in leading the Wise Men to Jesus.

I told them that when we lived with Heavenly Father before the world was created, we accepted Heavenly Father's plan of happiness. Because we accepted that plan, all of us born on earth have the Light of Christ within us. This Light helps us to feel and recognize our connection to Him.

As John taught, Jesus is "the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world."[4]

The Wise Men had that Light within them. They nurtured that Light by studying the prophecies about the coming of Christ and by watching with faith for the signs that would foretell His birth. With that preparation, when the star appeared they felt a connection to the star and rejoiced with "exceeding great joy"[5] and followed the star to Bethlehem and to the stable where Mary and Joseph cared for the newborn baby.

When they found him, the Wise Men bestowed valuable gifts upon the baby Jesus. But the Wise Men also received a valuable gift. The joy and rejoicing they experienced when they saw the star was multiplied by an immeasurable amount when they saw the Christ child. They knew that the Baby they found in the stable in Bethlehem truly was sent from God to light the world, to be the King of Kings, the Savior and Redeemer who the prophets had taught would come into the world.

With that witness as their gift and having been "warned of God in a dream that they should not return to Herod, they departed into their own country another way."[6]

To end our family home evening, I told the children that like the Wise Men, we have the Light of Christ that helps us find and follow Jesus so that we can receive all the gifts He has for us. One of those gifts is repentance. I told the children that when they repent, Jesus forgives them and helps correct their mistakes.

At that point five-year-old Matthew asked, "And helps us get off the naughty list?" "Yes, Matthew," I said. "We can always get off the naughty list if we trust in Jesus and His light within us."

Probably the reason those three little grandsons had been so attentive in home evening that night was because they were working hard to get off the naughty list before Christmas.

I am grateful that the Light of Christ guided me to teach a lesson that reinforced a lesson that they had already begun to apply. It was a sweet gift.

Recently I read Lytton Strachey’s Life of Florence Nightingale. I had read it once before, but my rereading brought a new sense of admiration and respect for this great young woman of England.
She was born to the upper class, to party and to dance, to go to the races and look pretty in society. But she would have none of it. Her great desire was to [relieve] pain and suffering, to hasten healing, to make less dreadful the hospitals of the day. She devoted herself to nursing and became expert according to the training then available.
Britain became embroiled in the Crimean War, and she was appointed head of the hospital in Scutari, where thousands of the victims of the war were brought.
The picture that greeted her here was one of absolute despair. An old warehouse served as a hospital. Wounded men were crowded in great rooms that reeked of foul odors and were filled with the cries of the suffering.
This frail young woman, with those she had recruited, set to work. I quote from Mr. Strachey: “Wherever, in those vast wards suffering was at its worst and the need for help was greatest, there, as if by magic, was Miss Nightingale.”
The beds that held the suffering men stretched over four miles, with barely space between each bed to walk. But somehow, within a period of six months, “the confusion and the pressure in the wards had come to an end; order reigned in them, and cleanliness. … The rate of [death] among the cases treated had fallen from 42 per [hundred] to 22 per thousand (Life of Florence Nightingale [1934], 1186).
She had brought to pass an absolute miracle. Lives by the thousands were saved. Suffering was [reduced]. Cheer and warmth and light came into the lives of men who otherwise would have died in that dark and dreadful place.
Perhaps no other woman in the history of the world has done so much to reduce human misery as this lady with the lamp.

I began to urge my family to come with me to sacrament meeting. I told them I wanted us to be an eternal family. To encourage them, I would wash everyone’s church clothes on Saturday night so that the excuse “I don’t have anything to wear” was no longer an option. I told them that I had a testimony of the gospel and that I wanted to share it with them. Most important, I prayed. I prayed that my family could know the Spirit the way I did. I wanted them to go to church so that we could someday be sealed in the temple.
It started slowly and took some time, but one warm August morning, my prayers were answered as we were sealed in the Portland Oregon Temple. I felt the Spirit stronger at that moment than ever before. I knew my family could be together forever. To this day I cannot thank my Heavenly Father enough for this wonderful blessing.

When I was in high school, I decided it was time I gained a testimony of my own instead of relying on those of my parents.
I wasn’t quite sure how to go about gaining a testimony, so one night as I was kneeling by my bed saying my prayers, I asked the Lord to let me know whether or not the gospel was true. Then I jumped into bed and went to sleep.
The next day I did the very same thing and for the next few days after that. Needless to say, I was not gaining a testimony.
I decided to try a different approach. Instead of just praying and jumping into bed, I would pray and then wait on my knees for the answer to come to me. It didn’t.
Something had to be done. I had just finished reading the Book of Mormon. The people in there were constantly gaining testimonies. It just didn’t seem fair that I couldn’t get an answer. What was I doing wrong?
I was reading one night in Doctrine and Covenants 9:7 where it says, “Behold, you have not understood; you have supposed that I would give it unto you, when you took no thought save it was to ask me.” [D&C 9:7]
I realized then that I had been going about gaining a testimony all wrong. Instead of just expecting it to be given to me, I needed to find one.
I looked up all the cross-references I could find on the subject of testimonies, talked to my bishop about it, and talked to my parents and others.
After studying and fasting, I prayed and asked the Lord to help me know the truth. My testimony started to grow.
But I was wrong when I thought that my first prayer hadn’t been answered. Section 9, verse 7, was what I had prayed for. Although it was not a testimony, it was telling me the way I could find one for myself.

The Primary children of the Nauvoo First Ward eagerly watched as the temple rose from a large hole in the ground. They wanted to help in building this house of the Lord, but they couldn’t do any actual physical work, such as cutting the stones or carpentry or electrical work. They decided to answer President Hinckley’s call for Church members to make donations for this special temple. But how? Their Primary leaders found the answer in a story* about the original temple there:
A penny fund would be the perfect way for the Primary children of the Nauvoo First Ward to help! Every child could find a way to contribute pennies, and the money would be used to buy a tree to plant on the temple grounds. That way, each time the children went there, they would see a reminder of their sacrifices and contributions. And as the tree was growing, they would also be growing and preparing to enter the temple and make sacred covenants there.
To start the project, the Primary leaders created a special tree on which each class placed a colorful leaf on Sundays when they put their pennies in the Penny by Penny jar. Children brought pennies they earned by doing things like extra chores and recycling cans. Soon the pennies were pouring in, and the special tree branches were filled with colorful leaves. Even children who visited Nauvoo during the busy tourist season put pennies into the jar.
In November 2001, the temple was almost finished, and it was time to prepare the grounds so that they would be beautiful for the open house in the spring. On a cold Saturday morning, the Primary children and their parents gathered in front of the temple to plant their Penny by Penny tree.
First, they sang “I Love to See the Temple.”† The bishop gave a talk, then the children gave their pennies to Brother Ron Prince, the temple project administrator. The tree was placed in the hole prepared for it, a canister containing the written and drawn testimonies of the children was placed among the tree’s roots, then the children took turns shoveling dirt to fill in around the tree. They were very happy to have helped make the Savior’s house in Nauvoo more beautiful, and they look forward to the day when each of them may enter it.

As my companions and I study our discussions we sometimes become discouraged and have a hard time memorizing. When this happens we often reach for the New Era and try to lose the feeling of discouragement. You know what? After reading only a few articles we are ready to work on our discussions again. The articles are very inspirational—and we are looking forward to the next issue so we can finish our discussions.
Elders Gary Brady and Kevin ElmerMinnesota-Wisconsin Mission

Not long after my baptism, I was assigned to record part of a Thai translation of a filmstrip called “The Restoration,” since there was no advanced technology in those days. A sentence that I had to read was “I am a sinner, I need the Lord.” I had pondered why I was selected to read that line. How did the Lord know what I needed? That sentence echoed in my ears silently. I knew the Lord had chosen me as one who really needed Him. He said, “I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”1 The Lord “awakened them out of a deep sleep, and they awoke unto God.”2 I am one of those now awakened. As time goes by, I realize that repentance is a process of learning, growing and improving. Whenever I look back, I see myself as one who has been changed for the better. President Nelson taught repentance with hope, joy and love, saying, “The word for repentance in the Greek New Testament . . . means ‘change’ . . . ‘mind,’ ‘knowledge,’ ‘spirit’. . . . Thus, when Jesus asks you and me to ‘repent,’ He is inviting us to change our mind, our knowledge, our spirit . . . He is asking us to change the way we love, think, serve, spend our time, treat our wives, [and] teach our children.”3 I feel deep gratitude for Church activities that can be implemented in the home as home-centered and Church-supported gospel learning is emphasized. It helps me run to repentance and not away from it.

One cloudy day when she was fourteen, Anna raced off to school in her usual hurry, forgetting her umbrella. After school that day it began to rain. At the gate Anna fell and sprained her ankle. Doctors in those days didn’t have the benefit of X-ray machines, and sometimes mistakes were made in the treatment of bones and ligaments. For the rest of her life Anna was crippled. At times she could walk a little, but much of the time she was an invalid.

Really for us? I honestly thought that President Hinckley must be talking to those who weren’t reading. After all, we had nightly scripture study, family home evening, and family councils; we prayed together. We thought we would just continue reading a few verses a night.It was a few days later that it hit me: a prophet of the Lord asked us to read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year, and I’m going to ignore it? That night we met as a family, and I was astonished at the resounding “Yes” I received as a commitment to meeting the goal. I told the kids that we would have to read on vacations, birthdays, nights when we were tired. “No problem” was the response.It didn’t take long for the spirit of that great book to take over. We started to understand gospel principles, to communicate more as a family. My wife and I felt our testimonies were strengthened, and I heard the kids explaining scripture stories as if they had served missions and taught the gospel for years! Taking this challenge has changed our lives forever. Shawn O’Leary, Poulsbo, Washington, USA

Many years ago it was my opportunity to serve as president of the Canadian Mission. There we had a branch with very limited priesthood. We always had a missionary presiding over the branch. I received a strong impression that we needed to have a member of the branch preside there.

We had one adult member in the branch who was a deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood but who didn’t attend or participate enough to be advanced in the priesthood. I felt inspired to call him as the branch president. I shall always remember the day that I had an interview with him. I told him that the Lord had inspired me to call him to be the president of the branch. After much protest on his part, and much encouragement on the part of his wife, he indicated that he would serve. I ordained him a priest.

It was the beginning of a new day for that man. His life was quickly put in order, and he assured me that he would live the commandments as he was expected to live them. In a few months he was ordained an elder. He and his wife and family eventually went to the temple and were sealed. Their children served missions and married in the house of the Lord.

The first prophetic statement regarding the temple as given by Elder Cowley was recorded by a missionary to the Northern Far East Mission, Elder Harrison Ted Price in his journal in 1949. It was given on the site where the completed Tokyo Temple now stands, 5-8-10 Minami Azabu, Minato-Ku, Tokyo, Japan, the former location of the Northern Far East Mission and later the Tokyo Mission offices. Elder Price reported that a special dedicatory service was held in the library and foyer of the mission home, Sunday, July 17, 1949.
“In the dedicatory services for the mission home at 4:30 P.M., this afternoon, President Edward L. Clissold gave a fine talk summarizing the establishment of the mission here in Japan. This was followed by the dedicatory prayer given by Elder Cowley, which was one of the thrilling prayers that I have heard. In this prayer, he told of countless blessings from the Lord that have been enjoyed here to date, and went on to prophesy—‘there will someday be many church buildings—and even TEMPLES built in this land.’ I gave the closing prayer in this meeting.
“I was sitting on the front row in this gathering and clearly heard these words. The above quote is I believe the exact words that this great prophet said, for this prophetic prayer so impressed me at the time that I went to my room shortly after and wrote these words in my diary that I now have before me. This same day, I remember asking Elder Cowley specifically about his statements on buildings and temples in Japan, and he surprised several other elders and me by answering that he didn’t remember saying that, ‘But if I said that—that’s the way it will be.’ Other experiences with Elder Cowley have convinced me that when the Spirit of prophecy was upon him, he was sometimes as surprised as his listeners at the marvelous things that he said.” (Elder Harrison T. Price, Missionary Journal No. 3, p. 149, July 17, 1949, as recounted in a letter to President Paul Andrus, Northern Far East Mission, 1958.)

Then, suddenly, Pedrito became ill again. His temperature was dangerously high, and his parents took him back to Guayaquil. The doctors told them that he would have to remain in the hospital at least five days. They also told the Cantos that if Pedrito were to live, he would have to undergo open-heart surgery right away.

But to everyone’s surprise, Pedrito was well enough to leave the hospital the next day.

Back in Quevedo, the welfare services missionaries helped the Cantos apply for help with the cost of the surgery. The doctors told the Cantos that they would have to go to the United States or Brazil for the surgery. But a member of the Church, who had recently had a family member operated on for a similar problem, told them about another doctor—Dr. Oswald Bonilla, a heart specialist in nearby Quito.

Although his calendar was full for several months, Dr. Bonilla agreed to see Pedrito in two weeks. But complications kept Dr. Bonilla from seeing Pedrito immediately. Sister Cantos had been taking a tailoring class so that she could earn money to help pay some of their medical bills. As the day for the appointment with Dr. Bonilla approached, she learned that her final examination was scheduled for the same day.

Dr. Bonilla graciously postponed the appointment for another two weeks. This time, a bus strike kept them from meeting with him. Finally, after six weeks, they stood before Dr. Bonilla.

Electrocardiograms, x-rays, and many other tests revealed that Pedrito was too weak to endure surgery. “It will take at least eight or nine months to build him up sufficiently,” Dr. Bonilla told the worried parents. The doctor ordered another series of tests.

Three days later, just before Pedrito was taken in for the new tests, two young men in white shirts and dark suits told Dr. Bonilla, “We would like to give the child a blessing.” “You have five minutes,” the doctor said, and he left the room.

Later that afternoon he whistled in amazement. The test results showed such a remarkable improvement in Pedrito that Dr. Bonilla decided to schedule the surgery immediately.

“It was worse than we thought,” Dr. Bonilla told the parents and the elders and sisters who had waited with them during the five anguish-filled hours of the surgery. “You keep praying, though, and Pedrito will live.”

Pedrito did live. He recovered rapidly. Soon he was running and playing like any other little boy. And Pedrito’s struggle for life has wrought other miracles. Dr. Bonilla and his assistant, Dr. Lopez, were touched by this display of faith and by the miracle they saw when the elders administered to Pedrito. They decided not to charge for the surgery.

Many of Sister Cantos’s family have accepted the gospel, and members of Brother Cantos’s family are anxiously waiting for the missionaries to come to a remote area where they live so that they, too, can be taught the gospel.

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Tracy sat in her bedroom, tugging at the end of a pigtail as she studied the advertisement in the comic book. In the ad were two photographs. The photo labeled “Before” showed a skinny boy with arms and legs like sticks. The other, labeled “After,” showed the same boy with enormous muscles popping out all over his body.
“Wow!” Tracy said. “I bet no one pushes him around anymore!” She thought of Buster Bailey, who liked to bully her as she walked home from school.
“I wish I could take Mr. Hercules’ free bodybuilding course. Then I’d really get Buster Bailey. But it’s only for boys.”
Tracy sprang up. “I know!” She tore out the ad and printed her name as only “T. Allison.” She addressed and stamped on envelope and put the ad inside it.
“Where are you going?” her mother called from the kitchen as Tracy opened the front door.
“For a walk,” Tracy said. She felt funny about not telling her mother what she was doing, but she didn’t want her to know about Buster Bailey. Her mother had enough to worry about. Tracy’s father had had an operation and was recovering very slowly. He had to stay in bed most of the time.
Tracy walked to the mailbox at the corner. I’m eleven years old, she thought. I can handle my own problems.
The next afternoon Buster was waiting for her as usual with his bike at the opposite end of the bridge. Tracy took a firm grip on her books and walked as fast as she could, pretending not to see him. But when she reached the center of the bridge, he got on his bike and headed straight for her, pedaling as fast as he could. She stopped and gritted her teeth. Within inches of running into her, Buster skidded sideways.
“I’m king of the bridge!” he shouted. “On your knees, peasant, and beg for safe passage, or I’ll throw your books into the river.”
Even though Buster was bigger than anyone else in their class, Tracy stood her ground and tried not to show that she was scared. She thought of the bodybuilding course. “You just wait, Buster Bailey,” she said. “One of these days I’m going to get you!”
“Bookworm,” he jeered. “Teacher’s pet.” After a few minutes of popping wheelies, he let her pass.
Every afternoon when Tracy got home, she stayed close to the front door and watched for the letter carrier. Luckily for her, the mail was delivered late in the day. A week after she sent in the ad, a bulky brown envelope addressed to Mr. T. Allison arrived. Tracy ran up the stairs to her room, shut the door, and opened the envelope.
Inside she found a letter, also a series of booklets titled Mr. Hercules’ Bodybuilding Course, filled with instructions and pictures of Mr. Hercules doing exercises, each more advanced than in the preceding booklet. Tracy didn’t understand all the words in the letter, but she understood the last line: “Please remit $45.00 within thirty days.”
Forty-five dollars! How could she possibly get forty-five dollars? She emptied her piggy bank on the bed and counted the money. Six dollars and thirty-eight cents. She couldn’t ask her parents for the money because they had lots of doctor’s bills. When she didn’t pay, would the police arrest her? Maybe Mr. Hercules himself would come looking for her!
That night she prayed for a miracle, and the next morning she woke up with an idea. She asked the neighbors if she could work for them. She weeded their gardens, swept their sidewalks, and washed their screens. She did errands and baby-sat. She saved every penny.
I’m working so hard, Tracy thought, I have a right to use the exercises. So every morning before breakfast and every night before bedtime, she took a booklet from the closet shelf where she kept them hidden and did the exercises. At first her muscles ached and she got tired after just a few minutes. She couldn’t do even one push-up. But she kept at it, and each day she could exercise a little longer. Soon she felt herself growing stronger.
The trouble is, Tracy thought as she walked home from school one afternoon, the exercises haven’t solved my problem with Buster Bailey. He’s always riding his bike, so I can’t get near enough to use my new muscles on him. She stepped onto the bridge and saw him waiting at the other end. When she reached the middle, he started toward her, coming faster and faster. This time he really would run into her! She jumped to one side. Buster twisted his wheel to stay in front of her, but the bike spun out of control and he was flung onto the pavement.
“Serves you right!” Tracy shouted.
Buster tried to get up and fell back, moaning. “My leg, my leg!”
Was he pretending? Maybe it was some sort of trick. But when she saw that he was crying, Tracy knew that he really was hurt. Buster would never cry, especially in front of a girl, if he could help it. “I’ll go get help,” she said.
“No! Don’t leave me, please!”
Tracy stared. “Why not?”
Gulping back his sobs, Buster blurted, “There’s this guy in sixth grade who’s out to get me. If he catches me off my bike …”
Tracy bit her tongue. Forgive your enemies, she reminded herself. She put down her books and helped Buster to his feet. “Lean on my shoulder, and try hopping on your good foot,” she told him. “My house is just down the street.”
They progressed very slowly toward Tracy’s house. She kept hoping that a car would stop and help them, but the street was deserted. “You’re heavy,” she said.
“And you’re strong,” he said, “for a girl.”
When they finally reached Tracy’s house, her mother took one look at Buster and phoned his home. While they were waiting for his father to arrive, Tracy’s mother asked what had happened. One thing led to another, and soon Tracy was pouring out the whole story about Buster, the body-building course, and the work she’d been doing to earn money.
“Wow!” Buster said. He was lying on the couch, his injured leg resting on pillows.
When Tracy showed her mother the book-lets, the letter, and the bill from Mr. Hercules, her mother frowned worriedly. “This is a big bill, Tracy. How much have you saved?”
Tracy tugged at a pigtail. “I only have twenty-seven dollars and thirty cents so far.”
“That was a very unwise thing to do, Tracy. Let’s write to Mr. Hercules and send him what you have,” her mother said. “When he learns the whole story”—she looked at Buster—“he might let you pay the rest when you can.”
To Tracy’s great relief, that’s exactly what Mr. Hercules agreed to.
Finally Tracy was able to pay her bill, but she learned a good lesson. Mr. Bailey asked Tracy to help Buster with summer school so that he could be promoted into fourth grade with the rest of their class, and Buster genuinely appreciated her help. Tracy was glad to help him—but this certainly wasn’t the way that she had planned to get Buster Bailey!

The youth of the Pleasant View Seventh Ward, Pleasant View Utah Stake, wanted to prepare a special slide presentation on the life of Christ for the ward Christmas program. They started working on the project in June so that the scenes would have the spring look of Jerusalem instead of snow-covered Utah.
The group searched for locations that would suggest an inn, a manger, a tomb, and a large rock well. The foyer of a local Mexican restaurant had a rough stone wall, an iron gate, and a garden that served as the setting for the story of Zacharias and Elizabeth. Finding a tame donkey proved to be the most difficult task, but through an unexpected conversation, one was located.
Mothers were responsible for their children’s costumes. Creativity was encouraged. A large number of young people were in the cast because every family in the ward was given the opportunity to participate.
Christine Lee portrayed Mary; Aaron Barker represented Joseph; and Chris Casey had the challenge of taking the part of Jesus. They were often required to spend extra time in the filming because of the many scenes they were required to be in. Chris Casey showed great reverence as he took the part of Christ. The filming of Christ and the children seemed so realistic that both adults and children found themselves talking quietly.
As the group worked, they were pleased with the results. A simple background in a home appeared as a background for a temple room, and a small trail on a hill loomed large and sad for Jesus to labor with his heavy cross.
The finished slides were shown while a cassette tape related the drama of the story. Those involved in the filming were touched by the power of the scriptures and the significance that the Christmas story has in their lives.

Not too long ago, I received a letter from the office of the Council of the Twelve authorizing me to interview a man to determine whether he was worthy to receive a restoration of blessings. Attached to that assignment letter were two pages of information about this individual. In reading these pages, I learned, among other things, that the man was a former Melchizedek Priesthood holder; that he had received his temple endowment years before; and that he had once been sealed to his wife and family. Moreover, I learned that the man had transgressed seriously several years ago and that, because of his transgressions, he had been excommunicated from the Church. Such excommunication resulted in his loss of membership, baptism, gift of the Holy Ghost, holy priesthood, endowment, and temple sealing. All of these sacred privileges and blessings had either been cancelled or withdrawn.

On the appointed day and hour, I met with the man. With him was his lovely wife. Once the greetings and niceties had been exchanged, I invited my friend to tell me his story. He told me of his conversion and of his varied activities in the Church. He told me about his first wife, his first marriage, and the subsequent birth of three children. He also told me of his love for his family and his desire to provide them with security and with the luxuries of life. Then, with some display of emotion, he told me how his strong urge to gather these material things had caused him to neglect his wife and children. In time serious problems had developed between the man and his mate, and she had asked for a divorce.

The divorce was obtained. Feeling that his world had collapsed around him, the man lost all interest in life. He therefore sold his business, moved to a new location, and began to live after the way of the world. He drowned himself in drink, he turned to the use of tobacco, and he became heavily involved in sex. One affair led to another. Each nefarious incident caused him to sink deeper and deeper into the mire of sin.

Then he met a woman who was different. She had principles and standards and lived accordingly. He courted her for a brief time, and they were married.

A month or so after their marriage, the wife startled her husband by asking, “Why is it that I catch glimpses of goodness and greatness in you and then they’re gone?” She added, “Sometimes I feel as if I’m married to only half a man.” The husband was moved by what his wife had said and replied, “I suppose it is time I leveled with you. I am a Mormon—a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” He then explained to his wife what that Church membership had once meant to him. He spoke also of the basic principles and ordinances of the gospel. He described the priesthood and his temple marriage and sealing to his former companion.

When the explanations were over, the wife was crying. She told her husband that she had never heard anything quite so beautiful. She asked, “How can we bring those blessings back into your life so that they will remain?” He told her he would need to seek out a bishop, confess his sins, submit to court proceedings, and undergo a rather lengthy period of repentance. The woman said, “Whatever the price, we will pay it. And we will begin right now.”

As the man had predicted, once a bishop had been located, a court was held, and he was stripped of all of his blessings. But as this good woman had committed, they climbed together the long path back. They had struggled for four years before he was rebaptized and finally given the gift of the Holy Ghost.

At the conclusion of this successful interview, I restored the man’s blessings, including the priesthood, an office within that priesthood, the temple endowment, and the temple sealing. As soon as I had pronounced the “Amen,” the woman rushed into her husband’s arms and declared, “Now I have a complete man—a whole man!”