Gospel Story Finder

On January 19, 1841, in a revelation given to the Prophet Joseph Smith at Nauvoo, Illinois, the Lord said, “Come ye, with all your gold, and your silver, … with all the precious trees of the earth … and build a house to my name, for the Most High to dwell therein” (D&C 124:26–27).
The Saints obeyed and built the Nauvoo Temple at great sacrifice before they were driven out of their beautiful city and they moved to the Salt Lake Valley. After they left, the temple was destroyed by others and lay in ruins for more than 150 years. Then, at the end of the April 1999 general conference, President Gordon B. Hinckley announced that the Nauvoo Temple would be rebuilt. And in October 1999, the work of rebuilding the temple began.
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:
“In 1844, the Saints in Nauvoo were building the temple, as the Lord had commanded. All of them were contributing as much as they could in tithes and offerings. The men were putting in long hours at the temple site, and Mary Fielding Smith and her sister Mercy Thompson were trying to think of a special way in which the women could contribute to the temple. They couldn’t work at the stone quarry or build windows with the carpenters, but they did come up with a wonderful plan: They started collecting a penny each week from the sisters who could help. That might not seem like much today, but it was a lot of money then. Penny by penny, the sisters’ sacrifice paid for the glass and nails needed for the temple.”
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.

Today I desire also to pay tribute to another Primary leader—a noble woman and personal friend. I speak of LaVern W. Parmley, former president of the Primary Association of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and former member of the National Advisory Council, Boy Scouts of America. Sister Parmley, as she was affectionately addressed by those who knew her, completed her mission here on earth on Sunday, 27 January 1980. Her funeral services followed a few days later, where in word and song eulogies were expressed and comfort extended to those in attendance.
LaVern Parmley and Naomi Shumway, together with their counselors, gave freely of their time and talents over a span of many years, teaching little children to walk in the light of the gospel of Christ. They taught each child to sing with personal conviction:
I am a child of God, …
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him someday
(“I Am a Child of God,” Sing with Me, B-76).
Part of their great love was teaching boys. Their inspired objective was to prepare them to receive the Aaronic Priesthood and to walk uprightly along the Scouting trail.
Under their direction, all eleven-year-old boys were asked to commit to memory the Articles of Faith of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You remember them. May I mention just two:
“We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost” (A of F 1:1).
“We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul—We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things” (A of F 1:13).
Can you think of a more firm foundation, a more basic philosophy to guide a boy, than the Articles of Faith? What a gift these noble women imparted when they expected each boy to know and indeed live by such a standard. They personally accepted the divine injunction, “Feed my sheep; feed my lambs” (see John 21:15–16).
Some may inquire: What is the significance of the Aaronic Priesthood for which such preparation takes place? Is it all that important in the life of a boy? The Priesthood of Aaron “is an appendage to the … Melchizedek Priesthood, and has power in administering outward ordinances” (D&C 107:14). John the Baptist was a descendant of Aaron and held the keys of the Aaronic Priesthood. Perhaps we could review the life and mission of John, so that the importance of the Aaronic Priesthood might be more fully appreciated.
Long years ago and distant miles away, in the conquered country of Palestine, a marvelous miracle occurred. The setting was bleak, the time one of tumult. In these, the days of Herod, king of Judea, there lived a priest named Zacharias and his wife, Elisabeth. “They were … righteous before God” (Luke 1:6). However, long years of yearning had returned no reward—Zacharias and Elisabeth remained childless.
Then came that day of days ever to be remembered. There appeared to Zacharias the angel Gabriel, who proclaimed: “Fear not, Zacharias: for thy prayer is heard; and thy wife Elisabeth shall bear thee a son, and thou shalt call his name John.
“He shall be great in the sight of the Lord” (Luke 1:13–15).
Elisabeth did conceive. In due time a son was born, and according to the angel’s instruction he was named John.
As with the master, Jesus Christ, so with the servant, John—precious little is recorded of their years of youth. A single sentence contains all that we know of John’s history for a space of thirty years—the entire period which elapsed between his birth and his walk into the wilderness to commence his public ministry: “The child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, and was in the deserts till the day of his shewing unto Israel” (Luke 1:80).
His dress was that of the old prophets—a garment woven of camel’s hair. His food was such as the desert afforded—locusts and wild honey. His message was brief. He preached faith, repentance, baptism by immersion, and the bestowal of the Holy Ghost by an authority greater than that possessed by himself.
“I am not the Christ” (John 1:20), he told his band of faithful disciples. “But I am sent before him.” “I indeed baptize you with water … but one mightier than I cometh … : he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire (see Matt. 3:11).
Then there transpired the climactic scene of John’s mission—the baptism of Christ. Jesus came down from Galilee expressly “to be baptized” by John. Humbled of heart and contrite in spirit, John pleaded, “I have need to be baptized of thee, and comest thou to me?” The Master’s reply: “It becometh us to fulfil all righteousness.” (See Matt. 3:13–15.)
“And Jesus, when he was baptized, went up straightway out of the water: and, lo, the heavens were opened unto him, and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove, and lighting upon him:
“And lo a voice from heaven, saying, This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:16–17).
John’s testimony that Jesus was the redeemer of the world was declared boldly. Without fear, and with courage, John taught: “Behold the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world” (John 1:29).
Of John, the Savior later testified, “Among them that are born of women there hath not risen a greater than John the Baptist” (Matt. 11:11).
John’s public ministry moved toward its close. He had, at the beginning of it, condemned the hypocrisy and worldliness of the Pharisees and Sadducees; and he now had occasion to denounce the lust of a king. The result is well known. A king’s weakness and a woman’s fury combined to bring about the death of John.
The tomb in which his body was placed could not contain that body. Nor could the act of murder still that voice. To the world we declare that at Harmony, Pennsylvania, on 15 May 1829, an angel, “who announced himself as John, the same that is called John the Baptist in the New Testament” (D&C 13, section heading), came as a resurrected personage to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery. “The angelic visitant averred that he was acting under the direction of Peter, James, and John, the ancient Apostles, who held the keys of the higher Priesthood, which was called the Priesthood of Melchizedek” (D&C 13, section heading). The Aaronic Priesthood was restored to the earth.
Thanks to that memorable event, I was given the privilege to bear the Aaronic Priesthood, as have millions of young men in these latter days. Its true significance was taught me by my former stake president, the late Paul C. Child.
When I was approaching my eighteenth birthday and preparing to enter military service in World War II, I was recommended to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood. Mine was the task of telephoning President Child for an appointment and interview. He was one who loved and understood the holy scriptures. It was his intent that all others should similarly love and understand them. Knowing from others of his rather detailed and searching interviews, our telephone conversation went something like this:
“Hello, President Child. This is Brother Monson. I have been asked by the bishop to seek an interview with you.”
“Fine, Brother Monson. When can you visit me?”
Knowing that his sacrament meeting time was six o’clock, and desiring minimum exposure of my scriptural knowledge to his review, I suggested, “How would five o’clock be?”
His response: “Oh, Brother Monson, that would not provide us sufficient time to peruse the scriptures. Could you please come at two o’clock, and bring with you your personally marked and referenced set of scriptures.”
Sunday finally arrived, and I visited President Child’s home on Indiana Avenue. I was greeted warmly, and then the interview began. He said: “Brother Monson, you hold the Aaronic Priesthood. Have you ever had angels minister to you?”
My reply was: “No, President Child.”
“Do you know,” said he, “that you are entitled to such?”
Again came my response: “No.”
Then he instructed, “Brother Monson, repeat from memory the thirteenth section of the Doctrine and Covenants.”
I began, “Upon you my fellow servants, in the name of Messiah I confer the Priesthood of Aaron, which holds the keys of the ministering of angels …” (D&C 13:1).
“Stop,” President Child directed. Then in a calm, kindly tone he counseled: “Brother Monson, never forget that as a holder of the Aaronic Priesthood you are entitled to the ministering of angels.” It was almost as though an angel were in the room that day. I have never forgotten the interview. I yet feel the spirit of that solemn occasion. I revere the priesthood of Almighty God. I have witnessed its power. I have seen its strength. I have marveled at the miracles it has wrought.
Almost thirty years ago I knew a boy, even a priest, who held the authority of the Aaronic Priesthood. As the bishop, I was his quorum president. This boy, Robert, stuttered and stammered, void of control. Self-conscious, shy, fearful of himself and all others, he had an impediment of speech which was devastating to him. Never did he fulfill an assignment; never would he look another in the eye; always would he gaze downward. Then one day, through a set of unusual circumstances, he accepted an assignment to perform the priestly responsibility to baptize another.
I sat next to him in the baptistry of this sacred tabernacle. He was dressed in immaculate white, prepared for the ordinance he was to perform. I asked Robert how he felt. He gazed at the floor and stuttered almost incoherently that he felt terrible.
We both prayed fervently that he would be made equal to his task. Then the clerk read the words: “Nancy Ann McArthur will now be baptized by Robert Williams, a priest.” Robert left my side, stepped into the font, took little Nancy by the hand, and helped her into that water which cleanses human lives and provides a spiritual rebirth. He then gazed as though toward heaven and, with his right arm to the square, repeated the words “Nancy Ann McArthur, having been commissioned of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost” (see D&C 20:73). Not once did he stammer. Not once did he stutter. Not once did he falter. A modern miracle had been witnessed.
In the dressing room, as I congratulated Robert, I expected to hear this same uninterrupted flow of speech. I was wrong. He gazed downward and stammered his reply of gratitude.
To each of you this day, I testify that when Robert acted in the authority of the Aaronic Priesthood, he spoke with power, with conviction, and with heavenly help.
Such is the legacy of one called John, even John the Baptist. We hear his voice today. It teaches humility; it prompts courage; it inspires faith.
May we be motivated by his message. May we be inspired by his mission. May we be lifted by his life to a full appreciation of the Aaronic Priesthood and its divine power, I pray, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Nearly a year ago, we lost my older brother in a tragic automobile accident. John’s early years were full of promise and accomplishment. But as he grew older, a broken body and uncooperative mind made life very difficult. While the healing he hoped for didn’t come in this life, John nonetheless held to his faith, determined to endure, as best he could, to the end.
Now, I know that John was not perfect, but I have wondered what it was that gave him such endurance. Many voices invited him into the cynical fringe, but he chose not to go. Instead, he did his best to anchor his life at the gospel center. He lived his life there because he knew he would find the voice of his Master there; he lived his life there because he knew it was there that he would be taught.
Brothers and sisters, in a world with so many competing voices, I testify that our Heavenly Father has made it possible for us to hear and follow His. If we are diligent, He and His Son will give us the direction we seek, the strength we need, and the happiness we all desire. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

About a year ago, I woke up in a trailer someplace in Illinois, full of drugs and alcohol, and I didn’t remember anything I’d done. I remembered only that on my business trip, as soon as the plane landed, it took me all of about 10 minutes to ditch my colleague, go straight to the bar, and disappear for three days. The second day—the day I was supposed to fly home—was my daughter’s birthday. Just a year ago.
A year ago Mark (names have been changed) didn’t know how he would overcome his addiction to drugs and alcohol. He had already tried to quit. He had visited with his bishop, been to professional counselors, gone through rehabilitation centers, and exerted all the willpower he could, but nothing brought permanent change. Soon after that critical moment in Illinois, he found the Church’s 12-step addiction recovery program, sponsored by LDS Family Services. In the program, he found the principles and direction that would change his life.
The change occurred as he studied and applied the principles taught in the program workbook and weekly recovery meetings. The workbook guides readers toward recovery using 12 steps, each of which addresses an essential principle of recovery such as honesty, hope, or trust in God. At the weekly meetings, participants are able to gain strength from others and share their own experiences of applying the principles.
Mark learned that the journey from addiction to recovery is a difficult one, but knowing people who have already made that journey can give hope to those who struggle. At each meeting a facilitator—someone who has experienced recovery—encourages others by sharing insights based on his or her own recovery. Mark is now a facilitator. Each week he shares his experiences (included in this article in italics) to help others understand that they are not alone and that addiction can be overcome.
After each time I gave in, I would say, “This time is going to be different. Please, Lord, help me. I don’t want this to be a part of my life.” Yet it continued to be.
An oft-repeated phrase among program participants is that an individual seeks recovery “when the pain of the problem becomes greater than the pain of the solution.” When Mark reached that point, he took a friend’s suggestion and came to a Latter-day Saint addiction-recovery meeting. Some people decide on their own to come. Others are encouraged to attend by friends or priesthood leaders. Some have been ordered by a court of law to attend 12-step recovery meetings.
Working the steps of this program simplified the gospel in a way that I could apply the testimony I had always had.
As Mark discovered, the steps of the addiction recovery program are a systematic way of implementing gospel principles. The 12 steps are adapted from the original Twelve Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous, but the Church’s program is unique because it puts the steps into “a framework of the doctrines and beliefs of the Church.”1 In the addiction recovery program, the 12 steps are actually steps to accessing the power of the Atonement.
The change that has happened to me is I’m not miserable all the time. Sometimes it’s not easy. Perhaps the Lord doesn’t see fit to take it all from me right now, but He strengthens me so I can bear it patiently and cheerfully, and I can progress. He lightens it just enough that I learn the most that I can.
In the past I was able to abstain for periods of time. I’d get myself back in good standing with the Church and serve in callings, and everyone would tell me how great I was. But I didn’t feel great on the inside at all. And that’s why abstaining is just one part of it. True recovery is not doing it and not wanting to do it because our nature is changed.
Every day I seek my Heavenly Father in prayer and through the scriptures. In the morning I read books about recovery, and I write my feelings and my impressions. I call a support person in the program to help clarify my thinking. I go to the meetings. I try to serve. And I have never relapsed on a day that I have done those things.
Those daily tasks keep Mark spiritually well. Others who have been through the program have discovered the same truth: maintaining spiritual strength requires continuous effort. No one is completely safe from relapse, but through daily gospel living, those who struggle with addiction come unto Christ and receive strength and hope.
“I’m learning bit by bit, precept upon precept,” says Mark. “My nature is changing, and it’s the first time since this started that I can say I have hope. I truly believe that I never have to relapse again.”

In my early childhood, I lost both my parents. Aunt Gu Ma, an unmarried sister of my father, brought up my brother and me in the little Chinese farming village where she grew vegetables for a living. She was a wonderful person. Although she had no formal education, she instilled in us correct principles, including self-reliance and the value of hard work. We are grateful for her love and sacrifice for us.

“It was a nice prayer.” This was my thought immediately following my patriarchal blessing. My patriarch had said some great words, and I had felt the Spirit, but I thought it was just a nice prayer, nothing remarkable like others had indicated were in their blessings.
I had graduated from high school and was preparing for my first year of college. Before I left home, I wanted to be ordained an elder and receive my patriarchal blessing. Two weeks before school started, I was able to accomplish both goals.
My patriarch gave a fine blessing, but I just did not feel that the experience was as great as everyone made it out to be. I admit that in a way I was even disappointed. I had expected so much, and it seemed that I did not receive what I had wanted. I questioned my own worthiness. Could it be my fault that I was not feeling anything spectacular?
After days of pondering, I knew I was at fault. I realized I needed to do some preparation in my own life to receive the personal witness that my patriarchal blessing was from God.
For the next few weeks, I fasted, prayed, and sought forgiveness of any sins I had. I was changing slowly. I could not tell a great difference, but by the time my patriarchal blessing came to me in the mail, I was ready.
I waited until Sunday evening to read it when all was quiet. Even as I opened the envelope, I could sense a different feeling come over me. I began to read. I had not read more than a few lines when amazing statements appeared. I could not believe this was my blessing! It seemed my whole blessing was full of material I had never heard before, and the things which I did remember began to have new meanings. A full-time mission, celestial marriage, eternal life—I now saw these expressions, that I had thought were trite, as the great promises they were. I had missed so much when I first received my patriarchal blessing. My “nice prayer” had turned into a personal revelation from God to me.

I am a first-generation university student. I am almost finished with my second certificate, and then I will finish my associate’s and bachelor’s degree. With every certificate or milestone, my self-esteem increases and my fear of the future decreases because I feel I am one step closer to securing a better future. Because I know I am nothing without God and this inspired program, I have learned to be humble and kind. I have extended helping hands to many other PathwayConnect students to give back. I created a WhatsApp group for PathwayConnect students around the globe to help them through tips and video demonstrations each week. Now, whenever I think about what lies ahead, I can’t help but smile and be eternally grateful for an inspired program called PathwayConnect.

I have asked that serious question of myself: “Where would I be without the gospel?”
It was that gospel testimony that helped me to say no to my Navy friends when our first leave came while I was in training camp in early 1944. My naval colleagues invited me to share in their worldly activities; to prove that I was a “man” by getting a tattoo, and then going after drink and women.
I was the only Latter-day Saint in that group, and, yes, I felt a little lonely as I left them to go by myself to the servicemen’s recreation center and then to a movie. The following day I found Church services and Church friends who strengthened and reinforced a lonely Mormon boy from Provo, Utah.
To have come home from the service in world War II still living a virtuous life has held eternal rewards for me.

Illustration by Brian Call
When my wife was pregnant with our third child, she was diagnosed with a condition that made it difficult for her to walk. This and other complications put her on bed rest for most of her pregnancy.
The birth was challenging, and she spent eight days in the hospital. Even after she returned home, her condition persisted. Doctors soon discovered more problems. Our family had to adjust and find our new normal.
Consequently, I took most of the night-shift hours with our newborn. I was working full time, and it was a challenge to be awakened continually during the night. To keep from getting frustrated, I started reading the histories of my pioneer ancestors while I was awake. I had some familiarity with them, but as I read stories of my great-grandparents and those before them, I was surprised how relatable their lives became.
As I discovered more about my family, I found their faith to be inspiring. The joy I felt was almost instant. Staying up no longer felt like a burden. In fact, I had to force myself to get my sleep when our daughter had settled.
I developed a deep appreciation for those who came before me. My heart had truly turned to my fathers (see Doctrine and Covenants 110:14–15; Malachi 4:6). I could see God’s guiding hand in their lives, and I could feel their love for Him.
My perspective on life evolved as I saw a bigger picture than I had before. As I read about the difficult circumstances my ancestors endured, their perseverance comforted me in my own situation.
Many times since then I have felt the influence of those who came before me in personal ways that have inspired me. Experiencing such a profound impact, I have found ways to find, compile, and share more history with my family so they could experience the same blessings.
My desire to go to the temple has increased. I feel a need to honor my ancestors’ faithful legacy. I want to give them the opportunity to make covenants with our Savior. As I have taken the names of these kindred dead to the temple, my covenant relationship with the Savior has been strengthened, and I have felt His refining influence in my life.

There is one special Easter that I vividly recall, experienced twenty-seven years ago as a missionary serving in the North Argentine Mission. Our mission had sent missionaries into southern Bolivia. That Easter Sunday 1968 I spent in Quiriza, Bolivia, a small village nestled in the foothills of the Altiplano of southern Bolivia. I remember the preparations made by the villagers for that Easter. The mood, the music, the feel of that moment still linger with me to this day.
Early on Easter Sunday morning, Elder Arce asked me if I would accompany him to visit an investigator family. Shortly thereafter, we walked down the dirt streets of that small village with adobe homes lining the way. We visited the family, reviewing important questions such as, Where do we come from? Why are we here? and Where are we going? We drew pictures with our fingers in the dirt floor. The Spirit was present. A baptismal invitation was extended and accepted. A beautiful baptismal service was held that afternoon. We baptized in the nearby muddy waters of the San Juan de Oro River. Seasons are reversed in South America. When it is springtime here, it is fall there.
Those being baptized disappeared behind large, freshly cut stacks of cornstalks, only to reappear dressed in beautiful white baptismal clothing. Their brown skin, black hair, and radiant smiles still linger to this day in my mind’s eye. The power of that Easter Sunday still moistens my eyes as I reflect on the universality of Christ’s invitation to all to come unto Him.
For me, to have administered in His name as a missionary among those people prompted thoughts of Jesus talking to His disciples during His earthly ministry. He said, “And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd” (John 10:16).
Before we left Quiriza, Bolivia, for Argentina, a special prayer was offered. Accompanied by a dear missionary companion, kneeling on a dirt soccer field under the stars, the two of us took turns pouring out our hearts to our Heavenly Father. There were expressions of love and gratitude for the people, for our mission president, and for the privilege of being missionaries. Promises were made to help the people.

When he was a very young boy, my great-grandfather, Benjamin Lillywhite, came from England with his parents after they joined the Church. When they arrived in St. Louis, his father and little sister died of cholera. His mother did not have enough money to buy a wagon to travel the rest of the way to the Salt Lake Valley, but she wanted her son to go to where the Saints were gathering as soon as possible. So she sent six-year-old Benjamin with another family, and under their care, he walked to the Valley. I was told that when his shoes wore out along the trail, he wrapped his feet in rags. But in spite of their hardships, he made it to the Valley.

When I was a small boy in the first grade, I experienced what I thought was a rather tough day at school. I came home, walked in the house, threw my book on the kitchen table, and let forth an expletive that included the name of the Lord.

My mother was shocked. She told me quietly, but firmly, how wrong I was. She told me that I could not have words of that kind coming out of my mouth. She led me by the hand into the bathroom, where she took from the shelf a clean washcloth, put it under the faucet, and then generously coated it with soap. She said, “We’ll have to wash out your mouth.” She told me to open it, and I did so reluctantly. Then she rubbed the soapy washcloth around my tongue and teeth. I sputtered and fumed and felt like swearing again, but I didn’t. I rinsed and rinsed my mouth, but it was a long while before the soapy taste was gone. In fact, whenever I think of that experience, I can still taste the soap. The lesson was worthwhile. I think I can say that I have tried to avoid using the name of the Lord in vain since that day. I am grateful for that lesson.

Set an example of service. The shining moment of the conference came in the form of service. Except for one very rainy morning, the youth spent several hours each day cleaning different areas of the island—picking up trash, cutting weeds and bushes, removing rocks, hauling away garbage. During the conference, they cleaned beaches along the dock area and tidied up the village cemetery, the church grounds and building, and the local soccer field, which had become little more than a garbage dump and an eyesore.
Mani Terooatea is a Laurel from Takaroa home on vacation from Japan, where she has been studying the technique of pearl grafting (placing tiny pieces of mussel shells inside oysters in order to cultivate pearls). Mani said, “It was super to clean up the field, to see everyone working side by side. It didn’t take long, and I’m glad we could leave the place cleaner than we found it.” Mani brought along a friend who is a member of another faith. The friend, Hina Dexter, developed a new appreciation for Latter-day Saints, as did several other non-LDS participants.

The third temple to be topped with an angel Moroni statue was the Washington D.C. Temple, dedicated in 1974. Avard Fairbanks sculpted a graceful angel holding a trumpet to his lips and a replica of the gold plates in his left arm. Brother Fairbanks’s one-meter model was taken to Italy, enlarged, cast in bronze, and covered with gold leaf.

When the clay enlargement was finished, Brother Fairbanks invited the temple architects to Italy to see it. One of the architects, Keith W. Wilcox (who later became a member of the Seventy), mentioned that the angel looked as though he were drinking from the horn rather than blowing it. Brother Wilcox demonstrated how a trombone player “buzzes” with his or her lips to make a tone. With Brother Wilcox posing, Brother Fairbanks changed the angel’s mouth.7

A husband and wife who have consistently and happily followed the counsel of the Brethren in their lives were grieved by the difficulty they experienced in having children. They expended substantial funds working with competent medical professionals, and, after a time, they were blessed with a son. Tragically, however, after only about a year, the baby was the victim of an accident that was no one’s fault but that left him semicomatose, with significant brain damage. He has received the best of care, but doctors cannot predict how things will unfold going forward. The child this couple worked and prayed so hard to bring into the world has in a sense been taken away, and they don’t know if he will be returned to them. They struggle now to care for their baby’s critical needs while meeting their other responsibilities. In this supremely difficult moment, they have turned to the Lord. They rely on the “daily bread” they receive from Him. They are aided by compassionate friends and family and strengthened by priesthood blessings. They have drawn closer to one another, their union perhaps now deeper and more complete than might otherwise have been possible.

Several years ago was assigned to go to Germany to take care of some important Church business. As I looked forward to that assignment, I worried a great deal. I knew there would be some very important interviews and that I do not speak German. I knew that most of those with whom I would conduct the Church business did not speak English. I felt helpless. After taking care of some work in English for about two weeks, I was finally on the plane to Germany. As I sat there pondering and praying, the voice of the Lord came into my mind, and gave me some instructions. You know, the Lord doesn’t speak in either English or German, and he can speak pure intelligence into our minds without passage of time. The message was something like this: “What are you worried about? There is another language, the language of the Spirit. Those brethren will know that language. You know the language. There will be no problem.” I was greatly comforted. And I had a great experience on that occasion.

Riding in a van following the trailer loaded with canoes, the girls of the Fargo North Dakota Stake, headed for a Summiteer adventure, were lost in lethargy, dozing a little. They had had an early morning getting everything packed for five days in the Boundary Waters area of northern Minnesota.
Suddenly Andrea bolted awake in her seat, yelling, “Hey, look! There’s a bear.”
Just then a black bear ambled casually across the road. Now everyone was awake. They watched the bear disappear into the woods, then looked at each other with a look that spoke eloquently. It was unspoken communication, but the message was clear. This really was going to be an adventure. Little did they realize then just how vivid the experience would be and how much this canoe trip would act as a symbol for the way they should live their lives.

A father should never consciously disappoint his wife or children. In 1989 there was a terrible earthquake in Armenia that killed over 30,000 people in four minutes. A distraught father went in frantic search of his son. He reached his son’s school only to find that it had been reduced to a pile of rubble. But he was driven by his promise to his son, “No matter what, I’ll always be there for you!” He visualized the corner where his son’s classroom would be, rushed there, and started to dig through the debris, brick by brick.

Others came on the scene—the fire chief, then the police—warning him of fires and explosions, and urging him to leave the search to the emergency crews. But he tenaciously carried on digging. Night came and went, and then, in the 38th hour of digging, he thought he heard his son’s voice. “Armand!” he called out. Then he heard, “Dad!?! It’s me, Dad! I told the other kids not to worry. I told ’em that if you were alive, you’d save me and when you saved me, they’d be saved. …

“There are 14 of us left out of 33. … When the building collapsed, it made a wedge, like a triangle, and it saved us.”

“Come on out, boy!”

“No, Dad! Let the other kids out first, ’cause I know you’ll get me! No matter what, I know you’ll be there for me!”

But another day with my father shaped my life forever. He took me from New Jersey to the home of an ordained patriarch in Salt Lake City. I had never seen the man before. My father left me at the doorstep. The patriarch led me to a chair, placed his hands on my head, and pronounced a blessing as a gift from God that included a declaration of the great desire of my heart.
He said that I was one of those of whom it had been said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” [Matthew 5:9.] I was so surprised that a perfect stranger could know my heart that I opened my eyes to see the room where such a miracle was happening. That blessing of my possibilities has shaped my life, my marriage, and my priesthood service.

Elder Pratt’s two former companions traveled on to Tahiti, where their teaching met with far less success. After a few months, Elder Rogers traveled west to the leeward islands and Elder Grouard sailed to the island of Anaa in the Tuamotus. Elder Rogers again met with little success and much opposition. When rumors finally reached him of the death of the Prophet Joseph Smith, he began to fear for the safety of his family in Nauvoo, and he returned to America. He died during the exodus from Nauvoo.