Gospel Story Finder

Recently I searched through a journal I’ve had for years to ponder times I’ve relied on the Savior. I read about the despair I felt as I witnessed addiction in my family, experienced unemployment, navigated seasons of uncertainty and loneliness, and struggled with my physical and mental health. I read about some of the darkest moments in my life, when my spirit felt crushed by the weight of my challenges.

But as I reflected on these experiences, I was brought to tears as the Spirit showed me how Christ comforted and led me through my challenges—and still does! Despite the trials in my life, I’ve been able to find so much joy. I’ve experienced the healing balm of forgiveness, witnessed miracles, and learned how to hold on to hope each day—and I know it’s all because of my Savior, Jesus Christ. He truly helps us to overcome the impossible.

There are some who have difficulty forgiving themselves and who dwell on all of their perceived shortcomings. I quite like the account of a religious leader who went to the side of a woman who lay dying, attempting to comfort her—but to no avail. “I am lost,” she said. “I’ve ruined my life and every life around me. There is no hope for me.”

The man noticed a framed picture of a lovely girl on the dresser. “Who is this?” he asked.

The woman brightened. “She is my daughter, the one beautiful thing in my life.”

“And would you help her if she were in trouble or had made a mistake? Would you forgive her? Would you still love her?”

“Of course I would!” cried the woman. “I would do anything for her. Why do you ask such a question?”

“Because I want you to know,” said the man, “that figuratively speaking, Heavenly Father has a picture of you on His dresser. He loves you and will help you. Call upon Him.”

A hidden wedge to her happiness had been removed.

Giuseppe Garibaldi ran along the waterfront toward some fishermen.
“Take me with you,” he pleaded. “I can help man the sails or haul the nets.”
The fishermen laughed. “Hey, Peppino,” one of them called. “Are you playing truant from school again?”
Everyone called the boy Peppino, a nickname for Giuseppe. He was born in Nice, Italy (now part of France), in 1807.
Giuseppe frowned. He wanted to go to sea like his father and his grandfathers had done for years. But his parents insisted he go to school.
Giuseppe spent all the time he could along the waterfront. He was an excellent swimmer. His muscles were hardened by climbing the ropes of ships at port.
When Giuseppe was fifteen years old, he and some friends set sail for Genoa to find adventure and fortune as sailors. A few miles out to sea they were caught. After punishing his son, Giuseppe’s father decided he should send him to sea.
Within ten years Giuseppe Garibaldi was captain of his own ship. It was during these years that he decided to dedicate his life to a free and united Italy.
For many years, ever since the fall of the great Roman empire, Italy had been divided into small territories. Each territory was ruled by a different power. The Italians did not have freedom of assembly, religion, or speech. Most of them were not allowed to learn to read or write, and high taxes kept the people poor and hungry.
In 1834 Garibaldi took part in an unsuccessful revolution. To avoid going to prison, he disguised himself as a peasant and escaped to France.
Now he was a political exile. Since he could not go home, he decided to go to South America, where he became the leader of Italian exiles there. They were known as the Italian Legion, and they fought for the independence of Brazil and Uruguay. These men refused to accept any money for their service because they had not earned it peacefully. The government of Uruguay gave them red woolen shirts, which they wore for uniforms. The Red Shirts, as they were soon called, became a symbol of hope and freedom even in their native Italy.
One day after Garibaldi had been fighting for a town in Brazil, he saw a beautiful young woman named Anita. A bond of love was formed between them the first time they met, and the young couple eloped a few nights after their first meeting. Anita’s love for freedom of nations equaled that of her husband. She fought beside him in South America and later in Italy.
In 1847 several cities in Italy began trying to overthrow their foreign rulers. Garibaldi had been waiting for this. He sent Anita with their three small children to Nice to stay with his mother while he remained in South America, where he gathered his Italian Legion and made preparations for them to sail to Italy. These exiled men were eager to go back home to fight for their own country. They sailed to Nice and from there began the long struggle from northern Italy down into the south.
His men loved Garibaldi. He never asked any of them to do anything he wouldn’t do. He always led them in their battles and fought as hard as they did. This leader ate meals with his men and wore the same kind of clothes they did. They found him always humble, gentle, and fair.
One time some enemy officers were captured and brought before Garibaldi. He had been so feared by the opposing armies that the officers expected to face a cruel, harsh person. To their surprise, this great man shook their hands, told them they had fought bravely, and offered sympathy that they had been captured.
During the battle to defend Rome, Garibaldi was wounded in his side. He hid the injury with his poncho and quietly told the surgeon to secretly visit him that night, for he didn’t want his men to know he had been wounded.
The siege of Rome lasted a long time, because the revolutionary army was so small. Garibaldi refused to surrender, but he knew that if fighting in the city continued, every structure in Rome would be destroyed. His love for this city was so great that he decided to move the fighting up to the mountains to save the city.
Anita had come from Nice to help her husband. She refused to leave him even though they were both in great danger. A few weeks later she became sick and died. Although it was difficult, Garibaldi fought on to achieve their common hope for a free and united Italy.
He had no desire to rule, but only wanted to free the people. Victor Emmanuel, who was a just man, had become king over most of northern Italy. Garibaldi had won many battles in the south. The king was afraid Garibaldi, who was very popular, might be tempted to take over the kingdom. But when the two men met, Garibaldi greeted Victor Emmanuel as his king, and he asked the people to do so too.
Garibaldi was offered titles and money for himself and for his children, but he would not accept them. He chose instead to settle with his children on a small farm.
Italy became a united kingdom; today it is a republic. The people of Italy have a special feeling of gratitude for their country and for the sacrifices of Giuseppe Garibaldi. Every city and village has a street or square named for Garibaldi, or a monument built in honor of this man who loved his country and fought for its freedom.

Latter-day Saint youth in Missouri, many of whom are Church pioneer descendants, are joining efforts with other Missourian descendants to create a new history for the Church in Gallatin. In an area where misunderstandings once led to the expulsion of the early Saints from Adam-ondi-Ahman, Gallatin, and Far West, youth today are coming together to build trust and friendships. These young men and women have become a light in their community.

Last March, LDS youth participated in an open house for the first Church-built meetinghouse in Gallatin, Daviess County. They worked with displays, moved furniture, invited their teachers and friends to attend, and tended the guest book. Besides helping those who toured the new meetinghouse, many youth also sang in the building’s dedication choir.

The Gallatin youth are active in community projects. For example, Gallatin City Hall now displays a new hand-carved city sign built and installed under the direction of Eagle Scout Sheldon Turley of the Gallatin Branch, Liberty Missouri Stake. Painting homes, cleaning out gutters, delivering holiday meals with members of other faiths, distributing handmade teddy bears to the Gallatin police and fire departments, and clearing and cutting down trees to help with beautification projects are just a few ways these youth are offering the light of the gospel to everyone in Gallatin.

Our missionaries serving throughout the world are beautiful examples of those who are truly ambitious for Christ. A few years ago, Sister Yamashita and I served in the Japan Nagoya Mission. Our missionaries were so ambitious for Christ. One of those missionaries was a young man named Elder Cowan.

Elder Cowan did not have a right leg because of a bicycle accident as a youth. A few weeks after he entered the mission, I received a phone call from his companion. Elder Cowan’s prosthetic leg had broken while he was riding his bike. We took him to a good repair facility, and there in a private room, I saw his leg for the first time. I realized how much pain he had been suffering. His prosthetic leg was repaired, and he returned to his area.

However, as the weeks went by, the prosthesis continued to break again and again. The area medical adviser recommended that Elder Cowan return home for a possible mission reassignment. I resisted this advice because Elder Cowan was a great missionary and he had a strong desire to remain in Japan. Gradually, though, Elder Cowan began to approach his physical limit. In spite of this, he did not murmur or complain.

Again, I was advised that Elder Cowan be allowed to serve in a place that did not require him to ride a bike. I pondered this situation. I thought about Elder Cowan and his future, and I prayed about the matter. I felt impressed that, yes, Elder Cowan should return home and await reassignment. I phoned him and expressed my love and concern and told him of my decision. He did not say anything in reply. I could only hear him weeping on the other end of the phone. I said, “Elder Cowan, you don’t have to answer me right now. I will call you tomorrow. Please consider my recommendation with sincere prayer.”

When I called him the next morning, he humbly said he would follow my counsel.

During my final interview with him, I asked him this question: “Elder Cowan, did you request on your missionary application to be sent to a mission where you would not have to ride a bike?”
He said, “Yes, President, I did.”
I responded, “Elder Cowan, you were called to the Japan Nagoya Mission, where you would have to ride a bike. Did you tell this to your stake president?”
I was surprised by his answer. He said, “No, I didn’t. I determined that if that is where the Lord called me, I would go to the gym and train my body to be able to ride a bike.”
At the conclusion of our interview, he asked me this question with tears in his eyes: “President Yamashita, why did I come to Japan? Why am I here?”
I answered him without hesitation: “Elder Cowan, I know one reason you came here. You came here for my benefit. I have come to understand what a great young man I have been serving with. I am blessed to know you.”

I am happy to report that Elder Cowan returned to his loving home and was reassigned to serve in a mission where he could use a car for his travel. I am proud not only of Elder Cowan but also of all the missionaries throughout the world who serve willingly without murmuring or complaining. Thank you, elders and sisters, for your faith, your focus, and your strong ambition for Christ.

Although we were very busy, my husband, Daniil, and I decided we should visit the Preston England Temple one more time before the end of 2009. It takes two buses and almost six hours to get to the temple from the small Scottish town where we live.
The morning we planned to leave dawned cloudy and rainy, but we were happy to be going to the temple. While we waited an extra hour to catch the second bus at the transfer point, it began pouring rain and getting cold.
However, the hope that we would soon be in the temple warmed our hearts. When we arrived in Preston, we felt a strong impression to go immediately to the temple. We were hungry and dripping wet, but we listened to the Holy Ghost.
When we entered the temple, a friendly temple worker asked for our temple recommends. He took off his glasses and looked again at the names on our recommends.
“Are you from Russia?” he asked in astonishment.
“Yes,” we answered, a bit surprised at his reaction.
“So you speak Russian?” he asked.
“Of course,” we said.
He then picked up the telephone and called someone.
Soon the temple president approached us. Through his glasses, we could see he had tears in his eyes. “You are angels from God!” he said with a smile, asking that we follow him. We followed him and soon saw a confused young missionary with temple workers standing around him.
It turned out that this missionary was from Armenia and spoke Russian. He had been called to serve in the England London Mission but had not yet learned English. There was not a single Russian-speaking person in the missionary training center adjacent to the temple. On that day he was supposed to receive his endowment, but temple workers had been unable to communicate with him—that is, until a thoroughly soaked Russian couple walked in.
Daniil immediately asked to accompany the young missionary. The missionary was overjoyed and later said he had felt a special spirit when we arrived.
I am grateful that despite our busy schedules and the rainy weather, my husband and I still decided to visit the temple that day so we could help a Russian-speaking son of God in Great Britain. I am grateful for temple blessings, which brighten our lives with a special light and purpose. I know that if we will heed the promptings of the Holy Ghost, He will lead us back to our heavenly home—just as He led my husband and me to the house of the Lord that day.

About halfway through seventh grade, I wanted to be part of the “in” crowd. I started changing just to fit in. I got mad easier, I tried to make a boy I liked think I was someone different from who I really am, and I started hanging out with people who didn’t have the best reputation. At the beginning of the fourth quarter of school, I noticed that I’d changed.
I had a lot of fond memories of the year before: no swearing, no bad influences. I’d had great friends—friends who actually cared about me and were good influences.
I decided to stop trying to change and just be myself, including keeping the commandments. Not long after that decision, when a boy asked me out, I told him, “No, I won’t date until I’m 16.” He asked why, and I responded, “I’m LDS.” He was sort of mad because I turned him down, but I knew I’d done the right thing. It felt good to stand up for my beliefs.
I thought, “If my friends leave me because of who I am, then they’re not really my friends.” I’m now a lot happier, and I know that from now on I’ll choose my friends wisely and be true to myself.

I saw this happen recently when I was with BYU’s Young Ambassadors on their tour in Brazil. They are great examples of sharing light by giving of their time and talents. During the tour they spent time with many who are facing challenges. Whether in a dance studio for the blind, a nursing home for the elderly, a clinic for chronically ill children, or a hospital for at-risk newborn babies and destitute mothers, they shared light. They sang songs in Portuguese, gave gifts, and showed love and concern for everyone they met.
I wish you could have been there to see the weary looks on the faces of those destitute mothers when they came into the room with their tiny, frail babies—and the contrasting looks of pure joy and light in their eyes after being with the Young Ambassadors. I also wish you could have seen the looks on the faces of the Young Ambassadors when they left feeling the pure joy and light of giving.

President Harold B. Lee told of calling a patriarch. He and the stake president had gone to the man’s home. He had been out with his sons on the welfare farm all day and was tired and weary and covered with grime.
President Lee said, “I made him more weary when I told him what it was I had come for—that he was to be called as the patriarch to that stake.”
After the morning session of conference, where the man had borne a remarkable testimony, they went to a basement office.
The stake president’s wife was present and wrote to President Lee: “As you walked over to put your hands on [his] head, I thought to myself, He is a man with whom we socialize. We have gone on trips with him, to dances. … Now part of his responsibility is to declare the lineage from which each one has come in these blessings. He hasn’t been a student of ancient languages—how is he going to know?
“… You walked over and put your hands on his head, and a light came from behind you and went right through you and into him. And I thought to myself, Isn’t that a strange coincidence that the sunlight has come in just at that moment. And then I realized that there was [no window,] no sunlight. I was witnessing the answer to my question. … That light came from somewhere beyond Brother Lee and went through Brother Lee into this patriarch. Then I knew where he was going to get that information—by the revelations of Almighty God.”

When I was young, my parents did volunteer work in different countries. I wanted to help people around the world too. So when I grew up, I became a doctor. I have now worked in many different countries helping people. My family and I have enjoyed being with the Latter-days Saints in these areas. They are so happy and hopeful. And they love Jesus Christ and His gospel.
My children often went to Primary with other children that didn’t look like them or speak the same language. But they were all Heavenly Father’s children. He knows and loves each one of us. We are each part of His family.

I have a very good friend who served as a Congregational minister for over 26 years. He had one of the largest churches on Long Island, New York, at one time. He became acquainted with the Mormons by visiting Salt Lake City and receiving visits from Latter-day Saint missionaries in his home. He developed a great admiration for the programs of the Church, primarily because of the fruits he saw that were produced by the Church. So he thought to borrow these programs and adopt them into his own church, which he tried to do. But he found that they did not work. His statement to me was:
“It was somewhat of a jolt to discover that the genius of Mormonism was in its theology, not its methodology, and that the amazing vitality of the Church sprang from the commitment of its members to the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ received by revelation. It became obvious that one could not have the fruits of Mormonism without its roots.” (John F. Heidenreich, “It May Change Your Life.”)

“Katie, time for family home evening!” Dad called.
Katie jumped off her bed and ran to the living room. She could smell the pine tree and see the lights sparkling on the shiny ornaments. Her little brother, Seth, was examining the gifts under the tree.
The family sang “The First Noel,” and Seth said the opening prayer. Then Dad told them about the Thomas family. This year they could not afford presents or a nice dinner for Christmas.
“No presents on Christmas? We have to help them!” Seth exclaimed.
“That’s what we were thinking,” Mom said. “But that means we won’t be able to afford as many gifts for you. You will only get one present each.”
“They’re my friends,” Seth said. “I want to help them!”
“What about you?” Mom asked, putting her arm around Katie.
“I want to help too,” Katie said.
Mom smiled. “We have a lot to do. We’d better get started.”
All week, the family worked to fill the Thomas family’s Christmas basket. Mom made the food. Katie went to the toy store with Dad to pick out toys for the three Thomas children.
The Saturday before Christmas, it was time to put the basket together. Katie carefully placed in the gifts she had wrapped. She felt warm inside, knowing she was helping the Thomases have a nice Christmas.
Just then, Seth came in carrying some other presents.
“These are for Jake and Ryan,” he said. “Can you wrap them for me?”
“Sure,” Katie said. Seth handed her a little crane, one of his old toys.
Katie frowned. “Why are you giving them this? I don’t think they’ll like your old stuff.”
“Yes, they will,” Seth insisted.
Katie wrapped the crane as neatly as she could. “At least I can make it look like a nice present,” she thought.
Then Seth handed her a jar filled with pennies, nickels, and dimes. Katie sighed as she wrapped the jar. Seth was just too little to pick out gifts for his friends.
Later that night, Katie’s family dropped off the Christmas basket. Dad set it on the Thomas family’s doorstep, rang the doorbell, and ran back to the car. “Mission accomplished,” he said, catching his breath.
Katie was so excited. She wished she could see the children’s faces when they unwrapped their gifts. Except for Seth’s gifts.
The next week at church, Katie and Seth went to the Relief Society room after Primary to find Mom. Sister Goldman, who lived next door to the Thomases, was telling Mom about the Christmas basket someone had mysteriously left on the Thomas family’s doorstep.
“I gave Jake the crane,” Seth said proudly.
“Seth, you weren’t supposed to tell,” Katie scolded.
Sister Goldman turned to Seth. “Jake loved the crane,” she said. “That was the only thing he had wanted for Christmas.”
Seth beamed.
Sister Goldman continued. “Ryan has been trying to save money for his mission. His mom told him that if he paid his tithing he would be blessed. And then he got a jar full of money.”
Katie couldn’t believe it! Jake and Ryan had loved the gifts that Seth picked out for them. She put her arm around Seth. She was proud of him. His gifts hadn’t looked like much, but Heavenly Father had known what they would mean to two boys.

In addition to heads of state, royalty, and entertainment and movie stars, Pam was able to show President and Sister Kimball through the Magic Kingdom.

“At the time I had only been a member of the Church for a few months, and I felt honored. I enjoyed being in the presence of this warm, wonderful, great man. Meeting President and Sister Kimball was a tremendous privilege for me because I realize how few people, some who have been in the Church all their lives, ever get this opportunity.

“I’ve had other great experiences this year as well. I met Great Britain’s Queen Mother in Toronto and many other special people who have taught me important things about life. On one of our programs in Washington, D.C., there was a young singer who was blind. He told how when he was young his parents thought he should be sheltered and kept apart from the rest of the world, so they fenced him into the backyard. He didn’t go to school; he didn’t have any friends. He was totally shut away. Yet he had learned to sing, and here he was on this program with national political figures and entertainers. This young man gave us all goosebumps with his singing. He sang ‘The Impossible Dream’ and showed us that being blind doesn’t need to be such a bad thing after all,” she said.

Pam’s work at hospitals and children’s schools has given her a special interest in the handicapped. She is learning sign language and now regularly assists the visitors to Disney World who are hearing impaired.

“I’ve been able to sign for our arts festival and recently at the Ohio and Pennsylvania schools for the deaf. You can’t imagine how excited these kids are when they learn that I am from Disney World and that I can communicate with them in sign language,” Pam said.

Before she got her job, Pam never realized how demanding or fulfilling the life of a storybook princess could be, but to her the rewards are more than worth the effort, for her job and her joys are in bringing happiness and laughter to others.

“Life is wonderful for me. I am having such a great year.* I joined the Church and I like doing all of the Church things—being around Mormons, attending meetings, and especially going to family home evenings. I love helping others, and get a special joy out of helping handicapped people. These experiences make me humble and give me a great appreciation for the things that I have, including the great privilege it is to be able to help make other people happy,” Pam said.

For a short few months of my life I lived in western Africa, in Nigeria. In our branch was a precious little child I called “Broomstick.” She was 7 years old and weighed only 23 pounds. Often as I would enter our rented chapel, she’d be sitting on the back bench. I loved to pick her up and take her to the front with me and hold her during the meetings. It was as if she would soak up all the love that I had in me, and more. But it was always replaced and increased.
Once at Easter time I was holding my little friend, and it was announced that we would be singing “I Know That My Redeemer Lives” (Hymns, 1985, no. 136). A prompting came to me to sing it not to myself, as the words say, but to her. It was a powerful, sweet, unforgettable experience for me, and I hope for her as well. Those words were so meaningful and touching. “He lives to bless you with his love. He lives to plead for you above. He lives your hungry soul to feed. He lives to bless in time of need. … He lives to comfort you when faint. He lives to hear your soul’s complaint. He lives to silence all your fears. He lives to wipe away your tears. He lives to calm your troubled heart. He lives all blessings to impart. He lives, your kind, wise, heav’nly Friend. He lives and loves you to the end. … He lives and grants you daily breath. He lives, and you shall conquer death.” One thing I realized is that Christ does all that and more for each one of us, and that he needs us to participate, to take time to stop and do.

Women in the Apia Samoa East Stake told us,

We . . . decided to approach the government if it was all right for the Stake Relief Society sisters to plant some flowers around the town clock. We chose the town clock because it is right in the middle of the town, and we felt it would be just the right place to have a beautiful garden. Its flowers would bear the theme of the Relief Society, “Charity Never Faileth.” The government was thrilled. . . . They thanked us wholeheartedly, and then they asked us if there was any way we could paint the 20-foot clock tower as well. We told them . . . we would see what we could do. . . . The stake did not have money, which did not worry us a bit. We only wanted them to approve it, as we had a strong feeling and belief if it was the will of the Lord, things will work out. . . . Paints and equipment were donated, professional painters offered themselves and their time, and the priesthood of our . . . stake also helped out with the work. The sisters of the eight units of our stake worked in scraping the old paint off, scrubbing and cleaning the clock tower, and, of course, in planting the flowers. We will be taking turns in maintaining the gardens there for the whole year. Again, the sisters were generous and willing.

Jeff and Dad were statue-still as a squirrel nibbled crumbs from Dad’s hand; another squirrel approached and demanded its share, then chattered with delight to find crumbs in Jeff’s hand too. He and Dad had been sitting under the tree for about an hour. Two deer had cautiously entered the nearby clearing, shyly watching them.
Jeff loved being in the mountains with his dad. As they hiked to their campsite, Dad taught him the names of the wildflowers and showed him where a beaver had stripped the bark from a tree. After they ate dinner, they sat serenely on top of a little knoll and watched the sun set.
They were just snuggling down into their sleeping bags, with the stars twinkling over their heads, when the peacefulness of the night was shattered by blaring rock music and the roaring of a jeep engine.
A group of people pulled up to the next campsite. They kept revving the engine, shouting, and swearing. Jeff watched, dismayed, as they broke branches from the trees to start a fire, then swore at each other when the fire would not start in the green wood. After a long time, Jeff was able to fall into an uneasy sleep.
Early the next morning, the sun had barely risen when Jeff stood by the lake, reeling in his first fish. He was so excited that he could hardly stand still while his father undid the hook and put the fish in the creel. As the sunlight touched the treetops on the far mountainside, the birds were singing in high spirit, and some chipmunks went scurrying by. The beauty of it all made Jeff want to shout for joy.
He thought about the night before. “Dad, why were those people acting that way last night? They seemed to hate each other, their campsite, and the other campers.”
“Maybe they never learned to be reverent and respectful,” Dad suggested.
“What does reverence have to do with it? That’s a church word.”
Dad was quiet for a moment while he thought. “I love nature. I feel a reverence for nature that is a little like the reverence that I feel for Heavenly Father. I love the mountains so much that I’ve tried to learn about them. I’ve learned the names of the flowers and birds and trees. I’ve learned to walk quietly and sit quietly so that I can watch the animals. I pick up litter whenever I see it so that it doesn’t spoil what’s here, and I’m very careful with our campfire. I do everything I can to show respect for the beauty that is here and try to make sure that my activities don’t interfere with other people’s enjoyment of the area. Every time I come, I love it more. After I’ve been in the mountains, I have a good feeling about myself. I always leave with a feeling of peace. The reverence that I feel for Heavenly Father is similar, only much stronger.”
“I think I understand,” Jeff responded. “When we feel love for Heavenly Father, we want to learn as much about Him as we can. We do everything we can to show respect for Him. The more we learn about Him and respect Him, the more we love Him.”
“That’s right. And after I’ve been worshipping Heavenly Father and praying to Him, I feel good about myself.”
“What about the kids in church who joke about the lessons and don’t pay attention?”
“Well,” Dad replied, “when someone is not reverent in church, it might mean that he isn’t feeling very good about himself, that he wants attention for himself instead of giving it to Heavenly Father.”
“Is that why Jared is always acting like a smart aleck?” Jeff wondered aloud. “Sometimes I hate to be around him.”
Dad put his arm around Jeff. “The thing is, you could probably help Jared be more reverent by being his friend. Maybe we could bring him up here with us sometime. When someone is not reverent, he usually knows that he is doing something wrong, and he feels even worse about himself.”
“Is that why Jared is always trying to get attention?”
“It could be. When someone is not respectful toward Heavenly Father, it’s hard for the Holy Ghost to help him love Heavenly Father and himself.”
Jeff thought for a minute. “We also need the Holy Ghost to help us have a testimony. When you’re not reverent, it must be hard to have a testimony.”
Dad gave Jeff a hug. “You’re right! And now look at the sun! It’s time to go cook some fresh fish for breakfast.”
The Jeep was gone when they got back from the lake. Jeff was amazed at the mess its passengers had left the campsite. There were cans and papers and torn branches everywhere. The fire they had finally started by pouring gasoline on the wood was still smoldering, and a bush was completely crushed where the jeep had been parked.
Dad got a garbage bag, and father and son started cleaning up. “I wonder,” Jeff said, “if those people have ever had a deer come close to them and watch them. Or a squirrel eat out of their hand.”
“I doubt that they have,” Dad said. “I wonder if they like themselves better today. Do you think that they know how truly beautiful these mountains are?”
After a breakfast of fish, pancakes, and hot cocoa, father and son made sure that the campsite was clean and the fire had been put out. Jeff lay on his stomach to enjoy the deep, sweet-smelling grass one more time before they had to go. He was full of love for the mountains, for his dad, and for Heavenly Father. “You know, Dad,” he said, “some people think that reverence just means being quiet. I think that’s sad. There is a lot more to reverence than that.”

I would like to tell you an event in my life which I think typifies what is going through my mind and has gone through my mind the last few weeks. The event started with a phone call from a Mr. Marion T. Romney. My secretary came to me in a meeting, and she said, “A Marion T. Romney wants to talk to you.”
I said, “I think that’s Marion G. Romney.”
“He said you would leave this meeting if I told you that he was calling you.”
I said, “He’s right.”
I think my secretary would like to have told his secretary that I would call back. But I went to the phone, and Brother Romney asked me five questions. He asked me if I would go on a mission; he asked me if I was worthy; he was concerned about my 17-year-old son, my finances, and my health.
I will tell you this, something I learned long ago: It is a question of free agency. On any one of those five questions, had I had to give a no I would have lost my free agency. I was financially able, I was morally able, and I knew the law of consecration and what it meant; and I appreciated the opportunity.
I called my wife immediately afterward and then went home. I talked with my wife, as Elder L. Tom Perry talked with his wife. We have married similar spirits. She has followed me all over the world. We have moved 15 times. She has learned two languages, brought up our children, and has always supported me.
I remember one time after coming back from an international trip. I had been gone for some time. My wife sat down on the arm of the chair, and I put my head on her shoulder. It was near the end of the month, and she asked me if I had completed my home teaching. I will be honest; I had other things in mind. But I went and did my home teaching. That is her training. So it was; I was beginning to learn the law of consecration.
A few weeks later the phone rang again. This time it was a man whom I have greatly admired—Brother Arthur Haycock. I spoke to him briefly; and then, the prophet’s voice—distinctive, clear, the clarion call.
“Brother Hales, do you mind if we change your mission?”
I had thought I was going to the London England Mission. But I figured someone else would have that call, and I said, “I will be glad to go to whatever place you send me.”
He said, “Do you mind if we change it to Salt Lake City?”
And I said, “No, that will be fine, President.”
“Do you mind if it is little bit longer than three years?”
“However long you want it, President.”
“We would like a lifetime of service.”
The past 20 years swept before me. I felt like the man who had fallen off a precipice, who was grabbing on to a limb which was giving way slowly, and who cried fervently in a prayer, “Save me!” And as he looked down to the rocks far below, a voice came clear and strong: “Let go, and you will be protected.” At that, the man looked up in the air again and said, “Is somebody else up there?”
The call was clear. I had to let go of everything that I had known and what I had been striving for in my life to become an Assistant to the Twelve.
I have learned from Joseph Fielding Smith, and have talked to young people, about the law of consecration. It is not one particular event; it is a lifetime, day by day, in which we all strive to do our best that we might live honorable lives, that we might live the best we can in the service of others, as President Joseph Fielding Smith talked about—not as his grandfather, Hyrum Smith, gave his life when he was with the Prophet, but giving our lives each day.
With that, the prophet talked to my wife. We held each other in our arms and said nothing, and we knew that we had and that we would dedicate and consecrate our lives to that mission, whatever it might be, in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We asked our questions which Elder Ashton taught us: “Why me?” And that is past us.
I will say this: It is not in death or in one event that we give our lives, but in every day as we are asked to do it.
In the Regional Representative work, I have been able, over the past five years, to have the hardening of the steel—to watch and work with these men who have been called as special witnesses of God, that they might know and teach and train the priesthood holders with whom they deal.
Do you realize that these men have revelation every Sunday when a stake is formed? As a Regional Representative assisting and kneeling in prayer with them as they give voice through the Spirit, one is able to participate in knowing that God lives, that Jesus is the Christ, that we have a prophet of God who is here this day, and that we have special witnesses who will lead and guide us, if we will but listen to their voice.
I ask the Lord in prayer that I might be able to be an example to help lift others, as these men have been over the years. My 17-year-old son said to me, “Dad, do you think, really, you will ever be like them?”
He said it in a little nicer way, but I thought of my life which I dedicate and give and consecrate, that I might be an instrument in His hand, working under the direction of all the General Authorities and asking their help that we might work as one.
I dedicate my life and service, and as Paul declared in First Corinthians, “And my speech and preaching was not with enticing words of man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power:
“That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.” (1 Cor. 2:4–5.)
I ask the Lord’s blessings upon all those who have made this day possible for me: my Primary and Sunday School teachers; a mother and father who are truly “goodly parents,” who have taught me and who have been an example for my whole life; my brother and sister have always been examples for me to follow with their faith and service in the Church; my wife and my boys—my son on a mission, Stephen, and David, who is here in Salt Lake with me now. They are a great strength to me.
I ask the Lord’s blessings, that I might be one in purpose with the Twelve and with all the General Authorities, and with you, my brothers and sisters; and I say to the priesthood holders that any one of you could be here this day. One cannot ask the question “Why me?” and dwell on it. But I will do as the prophet has said, to put behind me my past life and dedicate and consecrate all my time, talents, and efforts to His work. And I say this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

As I think of the relief Stan must be feeling now, I recall a story allegedly told by a former BYU president. When someone asked him if he missed his job at BYU, he answered with this analogy:

At a certain stake conference, the stake president was being released after serving faithfully for ten years, preceded by ten more years in a bishopric.
Just before the Sunday morning session in which the stake presidency would be changed, the visiting General Authority became uneasy watching from the stand as the crowd filled the hall. He leaned over to the devoted but tired stake president and asked, “Are there enough chairs for all those people coming in the back doors?”
The stake president whispered back to the ­visitor, “Who cares?”

I was standing in the foyer waiting for church to begin when he walked in. He came right over to me, called me by name, and asked, “Do you know why I’m here?”
His pointed query took me off guard. Who is this guy? He looks familiar, but I sure don’t know him. And why should I know why he’s here? “No,” I answered, feeling a little awkward.
“I’m here because of you,” he said bluntly.
That got my attention. Though there was a vague familiarity, I couldn’t remember ever meeting him before. I had no idea who he was, yet he was standing there saying he was at church because of me.
My face must have revealed my incredulity. “We have the same P.E. class at college,” he explained. When I graduated from high school, I decided to go to a community college near my home just outside Los Angeles. He was in my gym class with about 100 other guys.
“I’ve been watching you,” he said.
Watching me? What does he mean by that?
“I noticed right off that you were different,” he continued. “You never swear. You don’t lose your temper. You don’t smoke. You never tell dirty jokes or even listen to them. You’re never involved in all the filthy talk that goes on. I really admire you. You’re exactly the kind of person I want to be,” he said. “So I started asking around about you. I found out your name, that you’re a Mormon, and that this is where you go to church. That’s why I’m here.”
There are probably a dozen words I could use to describe how I felt at that moment. I just tried to live the way I’d always been taught, and I probably hadn’t done that especially well. I was preparing to go on a mission, but I certainly wasn’t perfect. And he’d been watching me. That was the scary part. Had I done anything I should be ashamed of? I hoped not.
He stayed for church, and over the next few weeks he took the missionary lessons and was baptized. A year later, just before I left on my mission, he left on his. He served faithfully, returned, and was married in the temple. He is one of the happiest and most peaceful persons that I know.
I take no credit for his conversion. I was just a Mormon kid trying to live the standards I’d always been taught and believed were right. It wasn’t really me he was watching—it was those standards. But today, every time I read the Savior’s admonition to “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matt. 5:16), I remember the day he walked up to me and said, “I’m here because of you.”

A few years ago, right before Christmas, I had a stake conference assignment in California. On the flight back to Utah, I decided to take a short nap. My seat was C, near the aisle. Just before the cabin door closed, a beautiful lady in her mid-70s stood beside me and said, “May I have my seat?” I said, “Yes, ma’am.” That was the end of my nap. She loved to talk.
She said, “I don’t know why I should have to fly to a cold place like Utah at Christmastime to visit my grandchildren. I hate to leave sunny California.”
She went on to say, “Besides, there are strange and weird people in Utah. They call themselves ‘Mormons.’ My daughter married one of them.”
I said, “I am sorry, but before you go any further, I should tell you that I am one of them.”
Then she said, “I am sorry—I didn’t mean that.”
I said, “Oh, you really meant that, didn’t you?”
Our conversation went on until we were above Provo. We knew we would soon be landing in Salt Lake.
“Patti”—that’s her name—“you have been talking for most of the flight. I feel like I have known you from the pre-earth life. Before we land in Salt Lake City, I’d like to ask you a few questions if I may.”
I asked her sincerely, “Patti, your deceased husband—do you know you can see him again?”
She said, “Oh, is that possible?”
“Do you know your deceased son, Matt, who died as a baby—you will see him also in the future?”
Her eyes became moist, and her voice was shaking. The Spirit of the Lord touched her. I sensed she had missed them so much.
Then I prayerfully asked her, “Patti, do you know you have a loving and kind Heavenly Father, who loves you so dearly?”
She said, “Do I?”
“Patti, do you know your Heavenly Father has a special plan for you and that your family can be forever?”
“Can we?” she replied.
“Have you ever heard the plan before?”
She said, “No.”
Very sincerely I asked her, “Would you like to know about it?”
“Yes, I would,” she responded.
The Spirit of the Lord touched her deeply. And the Lord promises us, “For mine elect hear my voice and harden not their hearts.” He also said: “I am the good shepherd, and know my sheep. … My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”
Before we came to this earth, our Heavenly Father gently and peacefully placed in our bosoms “the love of God.” In Heavenly Father’s eyes, you are a very special child. My friend Patti has the spark of divinity in her soul. When Patti heard the word of Heavenly Father, she was touched deeply and she responded to His voice.
We were total strangers, but the Lord placed one of His precious daughters quietly next to me. I was praying earnestly that the Spirit of the Lord would touch her and speak to her.
The missionaries taught Patti. Three weeks later, while she was staying in Utah, Patti called me: “Brother Kikuchi, this is Patti. I am going to be baptized. Would you come to my baptism services?”
My wife and I went to her baptism. Many members were kindly fellowshipping her. Oh, I shall never forget her joyful countenance as she came out of the water!
I shall never forget her sweet tears at the sacred altar in the Salt Lake Temple a year later. I remember her peaceful and celestial glow when she was sealed to her deceased husband and son and living daughter who had become a member of the Church. She now knows her family is forever in the Lord. My friend Patti Louise Donaldson found the Lord Jesus Christ. Now she lives in Utah.