Gospel Story Finder

My mother makes the best homemade bread in the whole world. One afternoon our neighbor sat in our kitchen and declared that she would pay ten dollars just for a slice of Mom’s yummy bread. Mom just laughed, but I could tell that she was flattered. That night, while we were doing the dishes, she seemed really concerned about something. Since Dad had been in the hospital, I’d noticed that she’d been worried not just about Dad but about “making ends meet,” as she put it.
Finally I asked, “Mom, what are you thinking about?”
She smiled, hesitated, then said, “Jenney, I couldn’t help thinking about what Mrs. Clark said. Do you think my bread is that good?”
“Sure, Mom, all the kids in the neighborhood love your bread and rolls—especially your cinnamon rolls.”
Well, that’s how I got the job of delivering bread and rolls for my mom. She got a permit from the city and began a bakery in our kitchen to earn some money. Every day after school I delivered her bread and rolls all over town. I got paid for doing it, and that was great, but sometimes I got tired of it and wished I hadn’t praised her bread so much. After a few weeks, I started playing or watching TV and leaving a little later each day. That was until after one day last week.
“Jenney, honey, please hurry. This order is for Brother and Sister Dean, and they live kind of far away. Turn off the TV and get your coat and mittens on.”
“OK, Mom,” I said reluctantly and got ready to go.
At the door, Mom stood looking at the sky. “Hurry, Jenney. Please don’t dawdle. It looks like another storm is brewing.”
“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll be all right.” I waved good-bye and started down the street. The air was very still and quiet. It wasn’t very cold, either. I walked along for a while, and then snowflakes started dancing around me. Suddenly it got very dark. At first I loved it. The snowflakes got bigger and bigger. They were beautiful as they came straight down, as though they were in a hurry to get to the ground. Like I should be about getting this bread delivered, I thought.
The Deans lived on a dairy farm. I decided to leave the road and take a shortcut through the fields to their house. The snowflakes started swirling around. They were huge by now and seemed to move up and away from me and then back toward me again. I laughed and started to dance with them—around and around, curtsy left, swing right.
When I stopped to catch my breath, I noticed that my feet felt really cold. I looked around me. All I could see was the black night and white swirling snow. The wind picked up, and the snow was no longer gentle and friendly. It started whipping at my hat and coat. My face and nose were numb and cold. I decided to walk fast—only I didn’t know which way to walk! I strained my eyes looking into the night. I couldn’t decide which way to go. Suddenly I felt panicky. I stood very still in that spot and cried for a while, then wandered around till I seemed to hear a gentle voice say, “Pray, Jenney. Stop here and pray.”
I stopped walking and knelt in the snow. I sobbed as I prayed to Heavenly Father for help. After a few moments I felt a sweet calm come over me, and someone seemed to say, “Jenney, look up.”
I looked up, and through the darkness I saw a light flicker on. I couldn’t tell whose light it was, but there it was, shining through the dark, snowy night. I got up quickly and headed for the light. In just a few minutes I could dimly make out Brother Dean’s farm buildings. I stumbled gratefully to the barn door and called, “Brother Dean, are you there?”
Out he came, swinging his lantern. “Why, Jenney, child, what are you doing out here on a night like this?”
I held out the bread and started to sob. He didn’t say a word but put his arm around me and steered me toward the house. While he called my mom, Sister Dean had me put on some dry clothes, then brought me some hot chocolate and warm cookies. Sitting by their nice fire, I told them about how I had been lost and scared. I told them about how I had prayed and then seen the barn light. Mr. Dean smiled and slowly nodded his head, as though he already knew my story.
“Jenney,” he said, “I had finished my chores and had my dinner. I had even put on my slippers and curled up by the fire with my newspaper. I’d no sooner started reading than I had the thought to go to the barn. I brushed it off. I’d come in from the barn not a half hour before, and my cows were OK. Well, I tried to start reading again, but the thought just wouldn’t go away. So I got my tired bones up, lighted my lantern, and went to the barn. It was the strangest thing, because everything seemed to be just fine. So I said to myself, Dean, you’re getting old. Maybe you ought to sell this place and just sit in your rocking chair. Just as I was fixing to come back in, there you were, at the door, as scared as a treed cat and dripping wet. Yep, I’m sure glad I listened to that voice.” He smiled at me, adding, “Jenney, do you know whose voice it was that told me to come to the barn?”
“Yes, Brother Dean.”
I couldn’t explain where the voice came from, but I knew whose it was. My parents and my Primary teachers had taught me about the Holy Ghost. And tonight I knew that Heavenly Father had turned that light on just for me.

Jane’s family struggled during their first years in the Salt Lake Valley, and though they lacked even the most basic necessities, Jane shared what little she did have with her neighbors. When Brother Lyman, a neighbor, received a call to serve a mission in California, he left his family with few provisions. His wife, Eliza Partridge Lyman, wrote, “Jane James let me have two pounds of flour, it being half of what she had.”

By late afternoon the next day, 30 backpacks formed a long, brightly colored line that moved slowly up toward the clouds. We were with Varsity Scouts from the South Cottonwood Third Ward, Salt Lake Cottonwood Stake, and Explorers from the Granger 22nd Ward, Salt Lake Granger Central Stake. We were hiking in the Wind River Mountains, which are close to the Tetons and to the camp.
The weight of the packs and the slipping rocks underfoot kept heads bent toward the trail. Sweat streamed down everyone’s face. All of us walked one step at a time on a path that had started steep and was getting even steeper.
“We’re getting high enough to meet the angel Gabriel,” Robert Beeler joked. The rest of the group didn’t do much talking. Behind lay the valley floor, where we had started that morning. It seemed incredibly distant. But even though everyone was exhausted, the guides kept us all moving.
“There wasn’t just one big push,” Ron Wood remembered later. “The whole day was the push. A lot of us wondered if we were ever going to make it.”
“My pack was way too heavy,” Steven Aslami admitted. “So the other guys divided up some of my things and carried them for me. Next time,” he laughed, “I’ll leave my stereo home.”
Rest stops were kept short, just long enough for everyone to catch their breath and for our guides, Richard Jones and Greg Longson, to check maps. Both Richard and Greg are returned missionaries. Like Bob Burk, they had come to the base as young Scouts. Like Bob, they had now returned for the summer to share what they’d learned.
“How much farther do we have to go?” Kelly Crowther asked.
“Not too far.” The guides had been saying the same thing since the first hour.
The trail continued into the alpine zone, the highest region of the wilderness. A red-tailed hawk drifted in the warm evening air. The mountain was beautiful, but later, when asked about the scenery on the first part of the hike, Doug Tolman summed up what most of us had experienced: “Scenery? I don’t know. All I saw were my feet.”
The incline became less steep, dropped down, and finally ended at Coyote Lake. It was evening, and the sun was going down. Fish were turning in the water. We took off our packs, drank from an icy stream, and built our campfires. As a precaution against marauding bears, we hung our food in trees. Soon the rich aroma of stew mixed with the fragrance of mountain air. There was a relaxed feeling of accomplishment. All of us felt it, the kind of feeling that comes only when you’ve worked hard for something. Sleep came easily that night.

When I was in grade four, the day of our exam came. I was nervous that I might not pass the exam. While waiting for the school bus, I reviewed what I had studied the night before.
After I had reviewed, I gathered with my family to read a passage from a scripture mastery card. The verse was about prayer and the power of priesthood blessings. While I was listening, I was prompted to ask my father to bless me so I could pass the exam. As he blessed me, I calmed down and had peace of mind.
At school, I saw my classmates studying for the exam. The bell rang, and our teacher gave us the test. Before I started it, I went to a room, knelt down, and prayed. I went back to my classroom confident I could pass the exam. When I had finished the exam and was walking out of the classroom to go home, a classmate asked me, “Jarrel, do you think you’ll pass the exam?”
I said, “Let’s just find out tomorrow when we check the papers.”
When I got home, my mother asked me, “How was the exam?”
I said, “It went fine. I answered all the questions.”
The next day, I saw my scores—I passed the exam. I was very happy and thankful. I went home, knelt down, and thanked Heavenly Father for the wisdom and guidance He had given me during the exam. I then thanked my mother for helping me in my studies and my father for giving me a blessing.
I am thankful for priesthood blessings because they have helped me and so many members of the Church.

Many years ago, before leaving to become president of the Canadian Mission, headquartered in Toronto, Ontario, I had developed a friendship with a man by the name of Shelley, who lived in my ward but did not embrace the gospel, irrespective of the fact that his wife and children had done so. Shelley had been known as the toughest man in town when he was young. He was quite a pugilist. His fights were rarely in the ring but rather elsewhere. Try as I might, I could not bring about a change in Shelley’s attitude. The task appeared hopeless. In time, Shelley and his family moved from our ward.

After I had returned from Canada and was called to the Twelve, I received a telephone call from Shelley. He said, “Will you seal my wife and me and our family in the Salt Lake Temple?”

I answered hesitatingly, “Shelley, you first must be a baptized member of the Church.”

He laughed and responded, “Oh, I took care of that while you were in Canada. My home teacher was a school crossing guard, and every weekday as he and I would visit at the crossing, we would discuss the gospel.”

The sealings were performed; a family was united; joy followed.

Emily hurried into the Primary room with the other kids. She loved going to Primary! Ever since Mom was baptized a few weeks ago, Emily loved learning all she could about their new church.

One of the girls in her class waved. “Want to sit by me?” she asked.

“Sure,” Emily said. She smiled and sat down by her new friend. They listened to the piano music.

When it was singing time, Sister Seitz stood up. Emily scooted to the front of her chair. Singing time was her favorite.

“Good morning!” Sister Seitz said. “Today we are going to learn more about the plan of salvation.”

Emily scrunched her eyebrows. The plan of what? She didn’t think she’d ever heard of that before.

“Every one of you lived with Heavenly Father and Jesus in heaven before coming to earth,” Sister Seitz said. “And you were so happy to come here to earth!”

Emily felt a jump of excitement inside her chest. I used to live in heaven before I was born? she thought. And I knew Heavenly Father and Jesus?

Everyone started singing a song she didn’t know. The words were so beautiful!

“I lived in heaven a long time ago, it is true; Lived there and loved there with people I know. So did you.”

Emily had never heard anything about this before. She paid close attention to every word they sang.

“Heavenly Father loves you so much,” Sister Seitz said after the song. “That’s why He created His plan for you. And guess what? You wanted to follow His plan! That’s why you’re here on earth today.”

They sang another song. This one taught about following God’s plan. Emily’s excitement grew bigger and bigger. I chose to follow Heavenly Father’s plan! she thought. That made her so happy!

Next they sang “I Am a Child of God.” It was all about coming to earth and being born into a family. Emily felt warm and peaceful as she thought about her family.

After each song, Sister Seitz taught something new. Emily learned that heaven has three kingdoms and that the highest one is called the celestial kingdom.

After they sang the last song, Emily didn’t want to stop. “Is there more to the story?” she asked.

Sister Seitz pointed at a picture of the sun on the board. It was above some pictures of the moon and stars. The sun represented the celestial kingdom.

“That’s where things keep going and growing,” Sister Seitz said. “That’s where our Heavenly Parents want us to be.”

Emily could hardly stop smiling. I was alive before I came here, she thought again. She couldn’t stop thinking how amazing that sounded. And I can live with Jesus again!

After Primary, she ran up to Sister Seitz.

“Are we going to keep learning about the plan of salvation next week?” she asked.

“We sure can. Did you like it?”

“Yes! I don’t know why, but I felt in my heart that I did choose God’s plan before I came to earth. And I know that Heavenly Father really does love me!”

Sister Seitz gave Emily a huge smile. Her eyes were a little bit shiny.

“Yes, you did,” Sister Seitz said. “And yes, He does love you.”

The plan of salvation is also called the plan of happiness.

Learn more about it on page 24!

Emily bounced on her toes a little. “You know what?” she asked. “I’m going to live my life the best I can. I want to live with Heavenly Father and Jesus and my family in the celestial kingdom!”

Sister Seitz bent down and looked into Emily’s eyes. “Me too,” she said.

It took a lot of time and sincere effort to break bad habits. Eventually I was judged by my priesthood leader as worthy to serve a mission. The best feeling in the world was to go to the temple and know I am clean. The Spirit I wanted to feel during all those teenage years came flooding into my heart and life. I am so thankful for the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
The adversary still works on me, trying to get me to backslide. But I have learned to put on the armor of God every day. I know Jesus Christ loves me, and I love Him.

As the sun rises over Mount Baw Baw, Callan Brooks is doing what he loves: building. He smiles as he fits another two-by-four into place, feeling the sense of accomplishment for a job well done.
Watching Callan work, you’d never guess that he is hearing impaired. But it hasn’t slowed him down. To Callan, it seems he was born to do this. And perhaps he was—for five generations his family has been builders.
“When I was 15, I left school to start my apprenticeship,” he says. “If you find an apprenticeship you like, it’s common among Australians to leave school and do that full time.” Callan has been building ever since. Whether he’s constructing homes, bolstering his own testimony, or magnifying a calling, Callan is consistently engaged in building God’s kingdom.
Just as his hearing loss hasn’t held him back from his work in construction, it hasn’t hindered his desire to learn and preach the gospel.
“While growing up, I barely understood 10 percent of what was said from the pulpit,” Callan says. He wanted to serve a full-time mission but didn’t qualify because of his hearing. However, he prayed and trusted that the Lord’s will would be done. Then something unexpected happened: Callan’s hearing worsened.
“When I was 18, I was completely deaf for six long months. I went to church for the feelings, because that’s all I got out of it,” he explains.
During this time, Callan built his testimony and relied on the Spirit. But what initially seemed to be a larger trial turned out to be the answer to his prayers. Because of the sudden drop in his hearing ability, he qualified for a cochlear implant, which improved his hearing enough to qualify him for a full-time mission. Callan soon left to serve in Perth, Australia.
Now home in Moe, Victoria, Callan serves in his ward’s Young Men presidency, where he helps 10 young men stay strong in the gospel in a place where remaining so is particularly difficult. To do this, he emphasizes the role of the Spirit in building up true conversion.
“We try to lead the young men to experience their own conversion through reading the Book of Mormon and utilizing Church programs,” he says.
The impact of this fifth-generation builder’s work is obvious, through his work on buildings, his witness of the gospel, and his mentoring of young men in his ward.

One day our Primary visited the São Paulo Brazil Temple. The gardens were more beautiful than any I had ever seen. We learned that through the covenants we make in the temple, we can live with our families for all eternity. The president of the temple spoke to us in the waiting room, where we saw beautiful paintings. I had a very warm and happy feeling, and my mother told me it was the Holy Ghost testifying to me that what I was learning was true. I gained a testimony that the temple is the house of the Lord.
Renato B., age 8, Brazil

The Thomas J. Pappas Elementary School in Phoenix, Arizona, isn’t a typical school. At the end of the day, students don’t go home, because they don’t have homes. After school, the buses drop them off at various homeless shelters, old hotels, or even under bridges.
When the stake youth committee of the Mesa Central Stake learned about this school, they wanted to do something for the students. They wanted to give them a day of fun and activities, so they planned a carnival with games, sports, and food. But the youth of the stake found that they gained much more than they gave.
On the morning of the activity, anticipation was high. What would students from a homeless school be like? What would they talk about? How would they act?
The youth from the stake were each partnered with a student from the school as a “buddy,” or mentor, for the day. After eating breakfast with their new friends, everyone was divided into groups to rotate through the different activities.
Most of the youth who participated in this activity had the same observation—in their efforts to give, they had received. They came away from the activity more grateful for their blessings. In their efforts to provide a day of entertainment for homeless children, they learned a valuable lesson in gratitude.

On my first visit to the fabled village of Sauniatu in Samoa, so loved by President McKay, my wife and I met with a large gathering of small children. At the end of our messages to these shy, beautiful youngsters, I suggested to the native Samoan teacher that we go ahead with the closing exercises. As he announced the final hymn, I suddenly felt compelled to greet personally each of the 247 children. But the time was too short for such a privilege, so I ignored the impression. Before the benediction, however, I again felt this strong impression to shake the hand of each child. I told the teacher that I wanted to shake the hand of each child. He displayed a broad Samoan smile before relaying my intentions in Samoan to the children. They all beamed when they heard his translation.
The teacher then told me the special reason for their joy. He said, “When we learned that President McKay had assigned a member of the Quorum of the Twelve to visit us in faraway Samoa, I told the children that if each one would earnestly and sincerely pray and exert faith like in the Bible accounts of old, the Apostle would visit our tiny village at Sauniatu, and through their faith, he would be impressed to greet each child with a personal handclasp.” Tears flowed as each of those precious boys and girls walked by and whispered softly to us a sweet talofa lava (hello). The gift of faith had been evidenced.

Jason Smyth, a member of the Londonderry Branch, Belfast Northern Ireland Stake, never dreamed of becoming a star athlete. In fact, the Northern Ireland teen always considered himself an average sportsman, perhaps even more so because he suffers from Stargardt’s disease, a hereditary condition that has destroyed all but his peripheral vision.
However, at 16, Jason’s hidden talent emerged and a PE teacher encouraged him to attend a sprinting training day. Eighteen months later Jason qualified for the Junior Commonwealth Games in Australia. The competition would be a turning point in his life.
“It was there I began to understand and realize what this was all about. For training so little and to qualify already, I just kind of thought I would like to make a career out of this,” says Jason.
Now, three years later, Jason has made quite the career. He has won the 100m and 200m races at both the 2006 Paralympic Games in Holland and the 2005 European Paralympic Championships in Finland, setting record times for both races in each competition. He also holds the Junior Irish record times for the 60m (6.91 seconds) and the 100m (10.61 seconds) races.
Despite such success, as a 19-year-old, Jason heeded the prophet’s counsel and applied to serve a mission. But, because of his visual impairment, his application was denied. Jason graciously accepted the decision and also accepted a new challenge: to find other ways to serve.
Jason’s success as a sprinter has opened less conventional forms of missionary work.
“I now have an opportunity to be a missionary in a different way—through sprinting,” says Jason.
He has found that rather than knocking on doors, he can bring the Church out of obscurity by sprinting past finish lines and setting new records, all the while setting a good example.
Already, Jason’s success has created a buzz as others find out about the Mormon sprinter who doesn’t train on Sundays and also abstains from tea, coffee, alcohol, and drugs.
His success has made him the subject of several media-related publications—including Ireland’s biggest newspaper. Many mention his Mormon lifestyle.
“When they get to know me, they know the way I live my life is different,” Jason says.
Jason competes in both outdoor and indoor competitions, so he trains virtually all year. His practices usually last up to two hours and are twice a day.
Then there’s the travel. In the last three years, Jason has visited countries such as China, Finland, Portugal, Sweden, Holland, and Hungary. Last spring he spent time training at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah.
With increased success, doors continue to open for Jason. Last year he received an Irish Sport Grant, which enabled him to employ a full-time coach and secure sponsorships.
With each success, Jason has to give more time and energy. He understands what is expected of him. “It is my career,” he says.
Though training and racing keep him busy, Jason makes sure that his free time is reserved for his family, which Jason says is the root of his success.
“My family had a big part to play in the start. They encouraged me to keep up sprinting and see how I do. They take me to training and watch me race,” he says.
In addition, Jason also finds strength in the Church.
Although the Church is relatively small in Northern Ireland, Jason has inherited Irish pioneer heritage. His grandparents were baptized in Ireland in 1957, and his parents have remained strong in their membership.
Jason continues to build on this heritage. Even though he was the only member in his school, he graduated from seminary through independent study. He also finds time to serve as a branch missionary.
He credits his strong testimony of the gospel to his family, especially his parents.
“My parents taught us by example the way to live our lives,” he says.
Jason also mentioned that attending Church activities and socializing with friends who lived the same principles are another source of strength for him. “People at my branch are very supportive of me,” Jason says. “They like seeing me do well.”
As for his future, Jason’s long-term goal is to qualify for the London Olympics in 2012. But for now, Jason just wants to secure a second consecutive championship at the 2008 Paralympics in Beijing and to qualify for the Under-23 Championships in Hungary this July.
Jason says that one of his greatest achievements so far is making a life out of something he enjoys. He has learned to be self-sufficient and feels he has matured through his experiences.
“Being able to travel the world and getting paid to run—for me, nothing is better,” he says.
For Jason, the experience has been a powerful lesson that with a lot of hard work and dedication, anyone can achieve their dreams. “You just have to work hard if you really want it—and enjoy it as well,” he says.
For more on serving despite challenges, read “Determined to Serve,” New Era, Mar. 2007, p. 48.

It’s Saturday evening in the Waila Ward of the Nausori Fiji Stake. The responsibilities of the day are fulfilled, and holders of the Aaronic Priesthood have prepared for the Sabbath and are now gathered at the home of Brother and Sister Maiwiriwiri. It is an opportunity for them to have a small meal before beginning their fast—followed by an evening sleeping on mats in the Maiwiriwiris’ home.

Morning for these young men of the Aaronic Priesthood comes early. Long before daybreak, they quickly arise, don their white shirts and ties and their dark slacks, and by 6:00 a.m. they have left the home of Brother and Sister Maiwiriwiri in pairs—much like missionaries. Each of these companionships has a specific route to take in order to get to the chapel by 10:00 a.m., when priesthood meeting begins. Their responsibility is to stop at each member’s home on their route and invite them to contribute fast offerings.

These young men walk three miles (5 km) from the Maiwiriwiris’ home at one end of the ward to the meetinghouse at the other end of the ward. This is an opportunity to fulfill their duty and invite members of the Church to participate in the great work of caring for the widows and for their brothers and sisters by contributing fast offerings. President Alipate Tagidugu of the Nausori Fiji Stake commented that as a result of this effort by the Aaronic Priesthood, fast offering contributions have gone up 20 percent.

Just as important, these young men have an opportunity to fulfill their duty and help the members of the ward keep their covenants made at baptism:

“As ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;

“Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life” (Mosiah 18:8–9).

For these great young men, collecting fast offerings is not a burden but a blessing. They gladly wear their white shirts and ties, eagerly rise early, and willingly knock on the doors of the members in the early-morning hours to invite them to partake of the blessings that come from giving a generous fast offering.

As I watched these young men prepare for and fulfill their duty as priesthood holders, I thought what a wonderful blessing it will be to them throughout their lives to understand the significance of their efforts in inviting members of the Church to come closer to the Savior through giving fast offerings. How much better missionaries they will be, and how much better husbands and fathers they will be as a result of their priesthood efforts.

They will better understand this scripture about the Lord’s people: “The Lord called his people Zion, because they were of one heart and one mind, and dwelt in righteousness; and there was no poor among them” (Moses 7:18).

Several years ago, I was working as a software engineer. I was married, had two kids, and was serving in the Church. I started teaching some night classes at the local university, and I loved it. So, I was considering trying to become a university professor, but that would mean that I would need to quit my job and go back to school full-time.

My wife and I counseled together about it and asked the Lord to help us with wisdom and judgment. In the end, we felt good about this option and moved forward with faith that the Lord would help us through the process. So I quit my job and started back into school full-time. In addition to my schooling, I was working on the side to try to make ends meet. Needless to say, this was a busy time for me.

Perhaps you can relate.

At this time, I was serving as the executive secretary in my ward, and so I attended bishopric meetings. During some of these meetings, it came up that our ward needed a new young men's president. As the bishopric discussed names of possible people, none quite felt right. And in the process, my name came up. The bishop knew this was a very busy time in my life, but he asked me to give it some thought and let him know how I felt. He said he wasn't officially issuing me a calling, and if I said it wasn't a good fit right now, it wouldn't be a problem.

This was a difficult decision for me to wrestle with. In some ways, I think it would have been easier for me if the bishop had issued the calling directly. Because, as it was, I was left to weigh the options myself.

My wife and I counseled together about it, because it would affect our whole family, and we felt assurance and faith that the Lord would bless us if we moved forward with this calling.

I wrote the following in my journal: "It was really in my court whether or not I would be called. I didn't sleep well and wasn't sure what to do, but as I was reading in the scriptures, I had the distinct impression that if I waited until I had time to serve, then I never would, because things will always be busy. So I told the bishopric I was willing, and I was given the call."

This decision blessed my life in many ways during that time, but it has blessed it even more since, because it established a pattern in my life that has made a huge difference for me.

I can't tell you how many blessings have come from simply saying yes and showing up—even when I was tired or didn't always start with the best attitude.

Our grandson, then six-year-old Jeffrey Monson Dibb, accompanied by a six-year-old playmate, once paused at an end table in his house on which there was a picture of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. Our grandson’s friend pointed to the picture and asked, “Who is that man?”
Jeff replied, “Oh, that’s Elder Jeffrey Holland of the Quorum of Twelve Apostles. He’s named after me!”
This same namesake of Elder Holland’s, along with his young friend, went for a walk one day. They marched up the front steps of a home, not knowing who lived there or what affiliation they might have with the Church. They knocked on the front door, and a woman answered. Without the slightest hesitation, Jeff Dibb said to her, “We are the visiting home teachers. May we come in?” They were ushered into the living room and were asked to be seated. With total faith the children addressed the woman, “Do you have a treat for us?” What could she do? She produced a treat, and they had a nice conversation. The impromptu teachers departed, uttering a sincere, “Thank you.”
“Come back again,” they heard the woman say with a smile on her face.
“We will,” came the reply.
The parents of the two youngsters heard of the incident. I am certain they were restrained in counseling the little ones. Perhaps they remembered the words from the scriptures: “And a little child shall lead them.”

Lindsay felt nervous as she looked around the hospital room. She knew that soon someone would come to take her to the operating room for surgery. Mom and Dad stood close to her bed.
A few days before, Lindsay’s family had had a special family home evening. Mom gave a lesson about priesthood blessings. Then each member of the family told about a time when he or she was blessed by the power of the priesthood. Lindsay felt peaceful and happy as she listened to their testimonies. Mom explained that the peaceful feeling was the Holy Ghost telling Lindsay that what she was hearing was true.
At the end of the lesson, Lindsay’s older brother, who held the Melchizedek Priesthood, put a drop of consecrated oil on her head and said a prayer. Then Dad gave her a wonderful blessing. He said that Heavenly Father knew and loved her. He said that the doctors would be blessed in their work and that the surgery would go well. He also promised that Lindsay would have a special feeling of comfort and peace that would replace her fears.
Waiting in the hospital, Lindsay tried to be brave, but tears slowly leaked from the corners of her eyes. Two men in hospital clothes came into her room and said it was time for the surgery. They were kind as they tried to cheer her up, but still Lindsay’s fear did not go away.
Lindsay hugged Mom and Dad from her bed. Then one of the men pulled up the railing on her bed so she would be safe as they wheeled her down the hall. As Lindsay turned to see what he was doing, she saw a familiar silver ring on his finger. A warm, peaceful feeling filled her heart as she saw the letters CTR on the ring. Lindsay smiled as her fears slipped away. She knew that everything was going to be fine.

The record is clear that he was profoundly concerned about his family. He embodied the Abrahamic desire for children, honorable, loyal, faithful children, and certainly he would be leaving his own children in tender years and in critical circumstances. There is some evidence that the Prophet had a premonition of his eldest son’s leading away a portion of the Latter-day Saints and thus creating a division in the family as well as in the kingdom he was living and dying to establish.74 That must have pierced the Prophet deeply. He might well have chosen to live on for the sake of his family. That choice was denied him.

“Emma,” he said on that last morning, according to one account, “can you train my sons to walk in their father’s footsteps?” She replied, “Oh, Joseph, you are coming back.” She couldn’t believe he was not: he always had before. “Emma”—he repeated the same question. “Joseph, you are coming back.” And the third time.75 He left with such reticence that reportedly he went all the way back a third time to say good-bye to his children.

It had been an exciting visit, the first one ever made to Samoa by an apostle. Long rowboats decorated with colorful garlands of vines and flowers had met the boat when David O. McKay and Hugh J. Cannon arrived. A Mormon band greeted the rowboats at the wharf and proudly escorted the visitors to a circle where all the chiefs of the island waited to welcome them with speeches and the kava drink ceremony. Then a great feast was enjoyed under a coconut leaf canopy, and many people brought their children and their sick ones to be blessed.

During the next week meetings had been held on the various islands, and now the last morning was to be spent with the children in their school at Sauniatu.

This was May 31, 1921—thirty years before David O. McKay became president of the Church—but he often referred to the day as one of the most memorable of his life. That night he wrote about it in his diary:

“As we came out of the school, we found the people standing in double column from our door out across the lawn to the street.

“Finally, the last little boy crowding around had pressed our hands, so with tear-bedimmed eyes, we walked slowly toward the stream beyond which our horses were waiting. The band on the porch played ‘Tofa, My Feleni’ and the people stood waving their farewell. Before we were ready to start, they gathered around us again, eager to have one more handshake.

“As we rode slowly away, the band leading, the people followed as if they just would not yield to parting. We had gone perhaps a quarter of a mile ahead of them, when I felt impressed to say, ‘I think we should return and leave our blessing with them here in this beautiful grove.’

“As we approached the sobbing crowd, I could not help thrilling with the scene!

“Hanging my folded umbrella on an overhanging limb of a kopoc tree, I dismounted. The sobs of the people were louder than my voice when I began the prayer, but they became more subdued as I continued and their Amene was distinct and impressive at the close.

“Oh, I never will forget you, Samoa e le galo atu.”

Some who were present testified that as the inspired words of the blessing to the people were spoken, a halo of brightness rested upon Elder McKay, and although many in the group could not understand English, they knew what had been said before the Samoan translation was given.

The next year a monument to mark the spot of this event was dedicated on which was written:

“Apostle David O. McKay Stood Just Across the River

And Pronounced a Memorable Apostolic Blessing

Upon the Assembled Sauniatu Saints

A Fitting Climax to a Perfect Visit …”

You and your mom are on a scavenger hunt as part of a Primary quarterly activity to help you appreciate all the natural goodness Heavenly Father has given us. You have a list of things to check off when you find them. In addition, letters of the alphabet have been hidden in some of the places.
You are the first team. Go to Start. Follow the directions along the way, and you will find the letters. As you find each one, write it in order on the blanks at the bottom of your list. The letters will spell a word that tells what you’ll be enjoying after the hunt.
No letter here, but fill your canteen at the water fountain, check off “Water” on your list, and go to the big oak tree.
Write down the letter in the hole, check off “Oak Tree,” and hurry over to the pond.
That isn’t a letter—it’s a frog on a lily pad. Check off “Lily Pads” and look for the large boulder.
That isn’t a letter, either—it’s a snake. Rest here a bit while you check off “Boulder,” then find a pile of leaves.
Jump in, then write the letter on the brown leaf, check off “Leaves,” and head for another big pile—acorns this time.
No letter here. The squirrel wishes you’d go away so he can finish storing these nuts, so check off “Acorns” and head for the hollow log.
Another letter for your checklist. While you write it and check off “Hollow Log,” your cap blows off. Luckily, you see it at the apple tree, where you should go next.
On a low branch, there’s an abandoned nest with a green apple in it but no letter. Check off “Nest” and try the next place, over by those moss-covered stones.
Aha! Another letter! Write it and check off “Mossy Stones.” Do you see the wild strawberries? The last letter may be there. …
Nope—no letter, but the berries taste wonderful. You eat just a few so that the others can have some too. Now check off “Strawberries,” then look under the big pine tree.
Hurray—the last letter! Write it down, don’t forget to check off “Pine Tree,” then hurry over to join the leaders and wait for the other children.
Scavenger Hunt List
Water
Oak Tree
Lily Pads
Boulder
Leaves
Acorns
Hollow Log
Nest
Mossy Stones
Strawberries
Pine Trees
___ ___ ___ ___ ___
Answer:

To illustrate my point, I would like to share a personal spiritual experience which I have not previously shared beyond my family. It is very personal to me. I trust you will accept it in the spirit in which it is given.

I was called by President Hinckley to serve as a Seventy ten years ago this month. In response to the call, I agreed with the President that within the following two months I would appropriately resign as Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of the company that I headed at that time in New York City. He asked that I be free to attend the General Authority training meetings beginning on April 1, 1997. I agreed.

My company retirement dinner was held in New York City on the Monday evening prior to the meetings to be held in Salt Lake City the next morning.

The dinner concluded about 11:00 p.m. Our plan was to have our driver take us to our apartment in New York City, where we would pick up our bags and then be taken to a nearby airport where our corporate airplane was waiting to take Sister Staheli and me to Salt Lake City.

As we left the dinner, we found that a "northeaster," a blinding blizzard with strong winds, had engulfed the area.

As we reached the car, the driver informed us that our pilots had called, advising that the storm had forced closure of the airport.

The forecast indicated no letup in the winds and blizzard for the next several hours. Our pilots were ready to scrub the flight and go home.

As I called our pilots and discussed the situation with them, I felt a special prompting of the spirit. I was impressed to tell them that we would continue our plan to arrive at the airport, at which time we would again review weather conditions. They reluctantly agreed but made it clear that they saw no chance of getting out that night.

As we went to the apartment and readied for the trip, Sister Staheli and I had a special prayer asking for the Lord's help as to how we might arrive in Salt Lake City in time for that opening session, where I was to be introduced as a new Seventy.

As we arrived at the airport, which was a private airport for corporate planes, the pilots reinforced what we already knew: there had been no letup in the blizzard and the high winds. Again, I was prompted to respond to Don, our chief pilot, as follows: "Don, in the many years that we have flown together and the thousands of miles that you have piloted me on various trips, I have never, ever, asked you to do anything that was contrary to the laws of safety. Tonight I want to bend that rule just a bit."

I then asked the pilots to request clearance to take the plane to the end of the runway and let us sit there to see if there was any chance of any break in the weather within the next hour or so. The pilots and tower personnel reluctantly agreed. After de-icing the plane for the third time, we moved to the end of the runway.

We sat there for only a few minutes with the wind and blizzard howling around us, when all of a sudden the chief pilot came over the intercom stating, "Buckle up, the tower has informed us that there has been a strange opening in the storm, and we're going to try and make it through."

As we rolled down the runway I quietly pleaded with the Lord to let us have a safe takeoff. We did exactly that. No sooner had we gotten through the heavy storm cloud cover when the pilot came back on the intercom saying, "You can't believe this. The heavy winds and blizzard conditions have reappeared. The airport is again closed. The pilots were perplexed with what had happened. We knew the Lord had intervened on our behalf.

As we landed in Salt Lake City about 4:30 a.m. in the morning, the pilots were still musing about the unique occurrence that had taken place. Only we knew that the Lord had responded to our prayers for help.

The Lord is in the details of our lives. As we continue our efforts to stay spiritually strong, He will respond and bless our efforts at the appropriate times. If you will always strive to live to be worthy of the direction of the spirit, you will be blessed in unimaginable ways.