Gospel Story Finder

Elder Robert D. Hales learned to follow the Holy Ghost to help others. One night Elder Hales needed to get ready for a special dinner. But on his way home, he felt like instead he should stop and check on a widow that he home taught. When he knocked on her door, she said, “I have been praying for you to come.” Elder Hales knew that the Holy Ghost had told him to go see her.

Only two months after Brother Angell’s return, the Saints assembled in Big Cottonwood Canyon, where they learned that U.S. President James Buchanan, reacting hastily to the biased report of disgruntled federal officials who had deserted their posts, had dispatched a military force of twenty-five hundred men to restore order and forcibly install a new governor to replace Brigham Young. Delaying tactics slowed the army until it had to winter at Fort Bridger, Wyoming. But when spring came, the threat of military action resumed. In late March 1858, Brigham Young ordered the thirty thousand Saints in Salt Lake City and points north to move south. Imagine their sorrow at what they found necessary to do next. Brigham Young had the entire temple foundation covered with dirt so the area would resemble a freshly plowed field. A group of public works laborers hid the cut stone.

Fortunately, the confrontation with the U.S. Army was resolved diplomatically. The Saints agreed to be “pardoned,” and the army agreed to establish its camp fifty-six kilometers southwest of Salt Lake City. However, in the event the army did not keep its promises and tried to occupy the city and defile the ground consecrated for the temple, the Saints were ready to burn their own homes to the ground.

The army kept the terms of the settlement, and two months later, in July 1858, the Saints returned to their homes. But the uneasy truce prevented work on the temple for the next two years, until Brigham Young directed the foundation to be uncovered in the spring of 1860. It took two more years to uncover the foundation. Then, a second major tragedy seemed to hit the temple project. Large cracks were found in the foundation walls. It was clear that the foundation would never support the temple President Young envisioned. Thus, the Saints began the arduous task of removing the original stones down to the bottom layer, to be replaced by better quality stones cut to fit without mortar. By 1862 the last stones were removed. It wasn’t until 1867—nine years after the foundation had been covered with dirt, and twenty years after the temple site had been selected—that the temple walls rose above the ground for the first time!

Ryan and I both received the Melchizedek Priesthood about six months after I moved in. I had chosen to wait until after my mission to attend college so I could work to save for my mission. Ryan was already established in a trade, and he decided not to go to college either. After work we often hung out together.
Once, we stayed up most of the night trying to get through the book of Alma as Ryan read the Book of Mormon for the first time. It was exhausting but spiritually energizing. It was also great to see the changes Ryan was making in his life. He gave up old habits, created better ones, and changed some of his friends so he could be with people who shared his standards.
I had been looking forward to my mission since I had started going to church a few years before. Ryan wasn’t sure if he would go. While hanging out, we discussed my mission and my excitement to serve. As I encouraged him and answered gospel questions, I gained more confidence in my own abilities to serve as a missionary. Ryan was old enough to go but struggled with his decision.
“I wasn’t sure if my testimony was strong enough, even though I felt good about the Church at the time,” he said. “I did want to go, but it was really difficult to leave family.”
The day finally came when I could start filling out my mission papers. When I told Ryan, he surprised me by saying he had decided to serve as well. Our mission calls arrived on the same night. Ryan left to serve in Canada a month before I started my mission in France.
When I came home two years later, I looked up all the priests I had worked with. It saddened me to learn that some had stopped going to church shortly after I left, but I was happy to see Ryan again. He had served an honorable mission, and just as with Alma and the sons of Mosiah, I had more joy to see that he was still my brother in the Lord (see Alma 17:2).

We have heard President Benson tell of the call from “Box B” that came to his father. A letter from “Box B” in those days was a call from the First Presidency to serve a mission. President Benson’s father answered that call—leaving his wife and children—which resulted in a powerful missionary spirit that came into that home that has blessed countless lives.

During one conference in Poland in 2010, I met Radu. He was from Romania. We talked briefly, but he soon left on his mission and our paths didn’t cross again until another YSA conference three years later. There we had the time to actually get to know each other a little bit, but I was leaving on my own mission a month later. Radu wished me all the best and said, “Let’s keep in touch.” I didn’t really think he would, but he did. He wrote me letters throughout my mission. There was nothing romantic in his letters, but he became one of my dear friends. And I loved the respect he had for me and for missionary work in general.
When I returned home, Radu and I were both very excited to properly get to know each other—we could finally make it happen after so many years! We picked an affordable place for both of us to meet (which was Belgium at the time) to spend some time together. We talked and talked and talked some more.
We didn’t put any pressure on our relationship. We focused on building a friendship and simply getting to know each other. We always had so much fun together, but we also had very meaningful and profound discussions about the things that matter most. Over the next while, our friendship grew stronger. We Skyped almost daily, and over time we started saying nightly prayers together. We eventually started visiting each other’s country every few months.
After a while, I started feeling anxious because I felt like our friendship was developing into something more. But he was from Romania! I didn’t want to get into a long-distance relationship because a relationship could lead to marriage, which meant one of us would have to move to another country. I didn’t feel ready for that.
One day when I was feeling particularly anxious, Radu reminded me of a simple yet powerful principle. He said, “Let’s pray about our relationship and see how we feel.”
I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought about praying about our relationship earlier. But that was the best advice I received at the time. So I prayed for guidance.
I didn’t expect any specific answer at that moment, but I decided to keep moving forward with getting to know Radu. I hoped Heavenly Father would give me a warning if our relationship wasn’t something I should continue. But over time, the answer I had asked for did come. I had conversations about Radu with my family and friends, and in every conversation I was reassured I was going in the right direction.
Soon I had a funny realization. After having yet another great Skype call with Radu one night, I said to myself, “He really is the best friend I’ve ever had. I want to be his friend forever!” That’s when it hit me. Immediately a voice in my head replied to my own comment, “Well, then you need to marry him!” I knew that Heavenly Father was smiling upon my relationship with Radu. I could see that he was my best friend and that we could be happy together.
So I moved to Romania and married Radu. Never in my mind had I thought I would end up in Romania. But we’ve been married for four years now, and we have a wonderful daughter, Amelia.
One thing Radu told me when we were engaged was that although he usually felt a bit stressed around girls he liked, he didn’t feel that way with me. He said because of our friendship, he always felt relaxed and like he could always be himself.

As for Vennela, living the gospel in India isn’t always easy, but she knows the strength of the young adult members there will inspire others and help the Restoration progress. “Here, all the young adults are very faithful. They look for opportunities to share their testimonies,” she says. “We are like pioneers in India. We move from different places and some of us even leave our families. Life can be challenging here, but we still choose to live the gospel. The scriptures give me a lot of hope, strength, and courage.”

Volume 1 of Saints includes the heart-wrenching story of Amanda Barnes Smith and her family, who obeyed the Lord’s commandments and were doing His will.4 Amanda’s husband and one of her sons were brutally killed along with 15 other Latter-day Saints camped at a small settlement on Shoal Creek in Missouri. The Lord sustained Amanda through the awful experience, answered her prayers, gave her courage, and enabled her to heal her severely wounded son.5

Saints shows how Amanda learned to trust in the Lord through extreme adversity. It also tells what Joseph Smith learned about God’s goodness even in times of suffering. It shows that knowing the dealings of the Lord gives us eternal perspective, helps us see things as they really are and will be, and helps us exercise faith that the Lord will see us through hard times.

As a young convert I sometimes felt uneasy with the members of my branch, and I had questions that went unanswered. But by reading and discussing articles in Le Liahona (French) with members of my branch, I got to know the members better. And I found answers to my questions through the magazine’s messages. I am truly grateful to Heavenly Father for inspiring me with the desire to study Le Liahona. I am happy to be a member of the Church and to read the testimonies of other members throughout the world.
Sandrine Hantala,Le Mans Branch, Tours France District

In a recent Sunday Relief Society meeting, I listened to a young mother share part of her journey of conversion. She had grown up in the Church, with parents who taught her the gospel. She attended Primary, Young Women, and seminary. She loved to learn and discover truths. Her constant quest was to know why. Elder Russell M. Nelson has said, “The Lord can only teach an inquiring mind.”4 And this young woman was teachable.

After high school she attended a university, was sealed in the temple to a returned missionary, and was blessed with beautiful children.

With the spirit of inquiry, this mother continued to ask questions. But as the questions grew harder, so did the answers. And sometimes there were no answers—or no answers that brought peace. Eventually, as she sought to find answers, more and more questions arose, and she began to question some of the very foundations of her faith.

During this confusing time, some of those around her said, “Just lean on my faith.” But she thought, “I can’t. You don’t understand; you’re not grappling with these issues.” She explained, “I was willing to extend courtesy to those without doubts if they would extend courtesy to me.” And many did.

She said, “My parents knew my heart and allowed me space. They chose to love me while I was trying to figure it out for myself.” Likewise, this young mother’s bishop often met with her and spoke of his confidence in her.

Ward members also did not hesitate to give love, and she felt included. Her ward was not a place to put on a perfect face; it was a place of nurture.

“It was interesting,” she remembers. “During this time I felt a real connection to my grandparents who had died. They were pulling for me and urging me to keep trying. I felt they were saying, ‘Focus on what you know.’”

In spite of her substantial support system, she became less active. She said, “I did not separate myself from the Church because of bad behavior, spiritual apathy, looking for an excuse not to live the commandments, or searching for an easy out. I felt I needed the answer to the question ‘What do I really believe?’”

About this time she read a book of the writings of Mother Teresa, who had shared similar feelings. In a 1953 letter, Mother Teresa wrote: “Please pray specially for me that I may not spoil His work and that Our Lord may show Himself—for there is such terrible darkness within me, as if everything was dead. It has been like this more or less from the time I started ‘the work.’ Ask Our Lord to give me courage.”

Archbishop Périer responded: “God guides you, dear Mother; you are not so much in the dark as you think. The path to be followed may not always be clear at once. Pray for light; do not decide too quickly, listen to what others have to say, consider their reasons. You will always find something to help you. … Guided by faith, by prayer, and by reason with a right intention, you have enough.”5

My friend thought if Mother Teresa could live her religion without all the answers and without a feeling of clarity in all things, maybe she could too. She could take one simple step forward in faith—and then another. She could focus on the truths she did believe and let those truths fill her mind and heart.

As she reflected back, she said, “My testimony had become like a pile of ashes. It had all burned down. All that remained was Jesus Christ.” She continued, “But He does not leave you when you have questions. When anyone tries to keep the commandments, the door is wide open. Prayer and scripture study became incredibly important.”

Her first step to rebuild her faith was to start with basic gospel truths. She bought a Primary songbook and began reading the words of the songs. They were treasures to her. She prayed for faith to lift the heaviness she felt.

She learned that when she came up against a statement that caused her to doubt, she “could stop, look at the whole picture, and make the gospel personal.” She said, “I would ask, ‘Is this the right path for me and my family?’ Sometimes I would ask myself, ‘What do I want for my children?’ I realized I want them to have temple marriages. That’s when belief came back to my heart.”

Though she had questions about how the Book of Mormon came to be, she could not deny the truths she knew in the Book of Mormon. She had focused on studying the New Testament to better understand the Savior. “But eventually,” she said, “I found myself back in the Book of Mormon because I loved what I felt when reading about Jesus Christ and His Atonement.”

She concluded, “You have to have your own spiritual experiences with the truths in that book,” and she was having them. She explained, “I read in Mosiah and felt completely directed: ‘Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things … ; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend.’7”

About this time a call came to serve as Primary pianist. “It was safe,” she said. “I wanted to have my children in Primary, and now I could be with them. And I wasn’t ready to teach yet.” As she served, she continued to feel from those around her the invitation “Come; we want you, whatever stage you are at, and we will meet you there. Give us whatever you have to offer.”

Playing the Primary songs, she often thought to herself, “Here are truths I love. I can still bear testimony. I will just say those things that I know and trust. It may not be a perfect offering of knowledge, but it will be my offering. What I focus on expands inside of me. It is beautiful to get back to the essence of the gospel and feel clarity.”

On that Sunday morning, as I listened to this young sister share the story of her journey, I was reminded that “it is upon the rock of our Redeemer” that we all must build our foundation.8 I was also reminded of the counsel of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland: “Hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes.”9

Youth in the Greely Colorado Stake were literally in a rut on their trek—several times! But teamwork and determination helped them reach their destination despite high temperatures and a challenging climb.

Not even a week until Christmas and still no sign of snow. But that was the least of my worries. My mom and dad had separated, and divorce was looming in the wings. I suspected they would announce it as soon as the tinsel was put away so as not to put a damper on the holidays.
Too late.
And now my mom had informed me that I would have to make some heavy revisions to my Christmas wish list. My brothers and sister and I would get only a few presents.
I was sulking over my list when Mrs. Rollins [names have been changed] and her four children appeared on our doorstep. Why were they standing on our porch? They were in our ward but had never been to church. We were mere acquaintances.
The oldest boy, Gary, and I were in the same grade, but I carefully avoided him and his tough-guy buddies. He didn’t look so tough now as he stared at his shoelaces. Brett and Allison, both in elementary school, didn’t make eye contact with me either. But Robbie, four, looked straight at me with wide, clear eyes.
“We ran away,” he said.
I ushered them in, and the suspense and drama unfolded right in my living room. Mrs. Rollins had snatched up her kids and left her husband, vowing she’d never let him lay a hand on them again. Her firm jaw testified of her resolve, though her eyes brimmed with tears.
By this time, my mom and brothers and sister were standing at attention in the living room. Mrs. Rollins told my mom that she didn’t know where else to go and didn’t think her husband would find her and the children at our house. She pleaded with my mom to let her stay for a few days until she could figure something out, but her pleading was unnecessary because already we were caught up in something much bigger than ourselves.
While we played games and ate popcorn with the kids, my mom made some phone calls. She contacted the bishop and the Relief Society president. Meals were brought in, and a deposit and first month’s rent were paid on a small rental house in our ward boundaries. The only catch was that the house needed some work.
“Some work!” I gasped, when I saw the house a few days later with my brothers. The whole place was grimy and filthy. For three days my mom loaded us up with cleansers, disinfectants, and scrubbing brushes. Together with Mrs. Rollins’s four children, we scrubbed toilets, floors, windows, and walls. But we also laughed as we worked. And we marveled as ward members poured in bearing food and secondhand furniture and clothing.
On December 23, we were just finishing our cleaning when we heard screams of delight from the living room. We all rushed in to find Allison’s nose pressed against the living room window. Outside three men were lifting a Christmas tree from the back of a truck. Their wives followed them into the house with decorations for the tree.
“I didn’t think we were going to get a Christmas tree this year,” Allison beamed.
Back at our house that night we spread sleeping bags and pillows all around the lighted Christmas tree in the family room. For our last night together, we watched the movie It’s a Wonderful Life. Mrs. Rollins’s family had never seen it.
Mrs. Rollins kept thanking my mom for all we had done and saying the Lord must have sent her to us. I remember thinking that we hadn’t done much. It was the whole ward who had given of their time and money and belongings. And then I thought of what Mrs. Rollins and her children had given all of us. A purpose. A sense of unity and usefulness. They had helped us forget our own problems and focus outside ourselves. Maybe the Lord had sent them to us.
Before we dropped off to sleep, my mom gathered us together and asked if we would be willing to give up half our Christmas money so Mrs. Rollins and her children would have gifts to open on Christmas morning. None of us had to think twice. We gave Mom our re-revised lists and set out shopping with her the next day. My mom wandered off looking for our gifts, while my siblings and I scattered throughout the store to find just the right presents for our new friends. It was amazing to witness my younger brothers and sister hunting down gifts and comparing prices, asking each other for opinions. How had this happened? Weren’t we supposed to be complaining and moping about how unfortunate we were?
That night was Christmas Eve. With our ward, we filled small paper bags with sand and lighted candles and placed them along the sidewalks of our neighborhood, illuminating the dark, nippy night with a toasty glow. To me that Christmas was outlined with that same warm glow. It should have been impossible. My parents were on the verge of divorce, and I received so few gifts. And yet it didn’t bother me at all when I returned to school after Christmas vacation wearing the same old clothes. I’ll always remember what I received for Christmas that year. It’s something I now put on my Christmas wish list every year—the spirit of Christmas.

While speaking at the St. George Tabernacle in 1899, President Lorenzo Snow felt inspired to teach the importance of paying a full tithe. As more members began paying tithes, the Church’s finances grew more stable. The Saints paid with money when they had it and with things such as eggs, milk, and cattle when they didn’t.

A few years ago I gave some rather intensive attention to the four gospels as found in the New Testament. When I had finished this study, using these words of John as a text—“But these are written, that ye might believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing ye might have life through his name” (John 20:31)—I wrote these words:
“And so endeth the gospels—
“Those sacred scriptures which tell of the birth, ministry, mission, atoning sacrifice, resurrection, and ascension of the Son of God;
“Those revealed records which teach with power and conviction the eternal truths which men must believe to gain salvation in God’s kingdom;
“Those true histories of the life of Christ which lead men to love the Lord and to keep his commandments;
“Those sacred and solemn testimonies which open the door to the receipt of peace in this life and eternal life in the world to come.
“In this holy writ, in these gospel accounts, in these testimonies of the life of our Lord—
“We see Jesus—the Almighty, the Creator of all things from the beginning—receiving a tabernacle of clay in the womb of Mary.
“We stand by an Infant in a manger and hear heavenly voices hail his birth.
“We observe him teaching in the temple and confounding the worldly wise when but twelve years of age.
“We watch him in Jordan, immersed under the hands of John, while the heavens open and the personage of the Holy Ghost descends like a dove; and we hear the voice of the Father speak approving words.
“We go with him into a wilderness place apart and behold the devil come, tempting, enticing, seeking to lead him from God-directed paths.
“We view in wonder and amazement his miracles: he speaks and the blind see; at his touch the deaf hear; he commands and the lame leap, paralytics rise from their beds, lepers are cleansed, and the devils desert their ill-gotten abodes.
“We rejoice at the miracle of sin-crippled souls being made whole, of disciples who forsake all to follow him, of saints who are born again.
“We stand in awe as the elements obey his voice: he walks on the water; at his word storms cease; he curses the fig tree and it withers; water becomes wine when he wills it; a few small fish and a little bread feed thousands because of his word.
“We sit with the Lord of life, as a man, in the intimacy of a family circle in Bethany; we weep with him at Lazarus’ tomb; we fast and pray at his side when he communes with his Father; we eat and sleep and walk with him down the lanes and in the villages of Palestine; we see him hungry, thirsty, weary, and marvel that a God should seek such mortal experiences.
“We drink deeply of his teachings; we hear parables such as never man spake before; we learn what it means to hear one with authority announce his Father’s doctrine.
“We see him:
“In sorrow—weeping for his friends, lamenting over doomed Jerusalem;
“In compassion—forgiving sins, caring for his mother, making men whole spiritually and physically;
“In anger—cleansing his Father’s house, blazing forth with righteous indignation at its desecration;
“In triumph—entering Jerusalem amid shouts of Hosanna to the Son of David, transfigured before his disciples on the mount, standing in resurrected glory on a mountain in Galilee.
“We recline with him in an upper room, apart from the world, and hear some of the greatest sermons of all time as we partake of the emblems of his flesh and blood.
“We pray with him in Gethsemane and tremble under the weight of the burden he bore as great drops of blood come from every pore; we bow our heads in shame as Judas plants the traitor’s kiss.
“We stand at his side before Annas and again before Caiaphas; we go with him to Pilate and to Herod and back to Pilate; we partake of the pain, feel the insults, shudder at the mocking, and are revolted at the gross injustice and mass hysteria which hurl him inescapably toward the cross.
“We sorrow with his mother and others at Golgotha as Roman soldiers drive nails into his hands and feet; we shudder as the spear pierces his side, and live with him the moment when he voluntarily gives up his life.
“We are in the garden when the angels roll back the stone, when he comes forth in glorious immortality; we walk with him on the Emmaus road; we kneel in the upper room, feel the nail marks in his hands and feet and thrust our hands into his side; and with Thomas we exclaim: ‘My Lord and my God!’
“We walk to Bethany and there behold, as angels attend, his ascension to be with his Father; and our joy is full, for we have seen God with man.
“We see God in him—for we know that God was in Christ, manifesting himself to the world so that all men could know those holy beings whom to know is eternal life.
“And now what shall we say more of Christ? Whose Son is he? What works hath he wrought? Who today can testify of these things?
“Let it now be written once again—and it is the testimony of all the prophets of all the ages—that he is the Son of God, the Only Begotten of the Father, the promised Messiah, the Lord God of Israel, our Redeemer and Savior; that he came into the world to manifest the Father, to reveal anew the gospel, to be our great Example, to work out the infinite and eternal atonement; and that soon he shall come again to reign personally upon the earth and to save and redeem those who love and serve him.
“And now let it also be written, both on earth and in heaven, that I also know of the truth of those things of which the prophets have testified. For these things have been revealed unto me by the Holy Spirit of God, and I therefore testify that Jesus is Lord of all, the Son of God, through whose name salvation comes.” (Bruce R. McConkie, Doctrinal New Testament Commentary, vol. 1, pp. 873–876.)

Illustrations by Maryn Roos
I’ve got your science test scores here. Our new student, Mandy, is the only one who scored 100 percent.
If you want to make a friend, be one.
Hi. Your name’s Audrey, isn’t it? Is something wrong?
I flunked the test. And my dad says if I don’t get my grades up, I can’t have tennis lessons.
Ouch! That’s rough. Umm, listen … would you like to study together sometime? Maybe I could help.
You’d do that for me?
Sure. Why not?
Maybe you can teach me to play tennis. It looks fun.
Yeah, I think you’d really like it.

While I was serving as a missionary in a small town in Wales, my companion and I were tracting a street leading up one of the many hills there. It was a warm summer day. As we reached the top of the hill, the view was beautiful, so my companion and I decided to take a short break to enjoy the view and regain our energy.
As I got an orange out of my backpack, I saw a Chinese lady walking up the hill. I don’t know why, but I waved to her. She happily waved back and walked over to sit by us. We started talking, and she explained that she came up the hill to enjoy the view because it reminded her of God and His love for her. She also told us that she had been ready to go back to China when a job in Wales came up. She took it, believing that God provided this job for a reason she didn’t know.
Soon after this first meeting, we started teaching her in a recent convert’s home and shared many spiritual moments together. One of them I cherish the most. We presented her with a Chinese copy of the Book of Mormon with our testimonies written in the front. The Spirit was so strong that she started crying.
Not long after, I was transferred to another area. Unfortunately, I couldn’t go back to that area for her baptism, but it will always strengthen me to think back to our first meeting high on a hilltop.

At age 54, before he was called as a General Authority, President Russell M. Nelson attended a meeting in which President Spencer W. Kimball challenged attendees to “be of service to the Chinese” and “learn their language.”

Although he was a busy heart surgeon at the time, President Nelson took this counsel to heart. He found a tutor to help him learn the Mandarin language.

It wasn’t long before President Nelson found himself sitting next to a distinguished Chinese surgeon, Dr. Wu Yingkai, at a medical convention. Because of his Chinese language studies, President Nelson was able to have a conversation with Dr. Wu. From there, the two doctors formed a lasting friendship and even visited each other’s countries.

President Nelson’s goal to learn Mandarin led to positive exchanges with China, as President Kimball had hoped for. After he was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, President Nelson even performed his last heart surgery on China’s most famous opera singer by special request.

The bus load of excited seminary students were singing their way from Santiago, Chile, to the Andes Mountains. From my seat on the bus, I listened with delight as some fifty young people from all over Chile sang hymn after hymn together, sharing the spirit of the gospel with brothers and sisters they had just met. The joy on their young faces made me think of small children playing with a Christmas toy.
It was 1973, and I was a teacher in Chile’s pioneer early-morning seminary program. Together with my wife and several other adult leaders, men and women, we were on our way for a day at the beautiful Morales Baths in the Maipo Canyon of the Andes.
When we arrived at our destination, our group was ecstatic to see and touch snow for the first time. Immediately, the young people began running through the snow, throwing snowballs, and even rolling down the hills. Even though our smooth-soled shoes were not suitable for hiking in the snow, we enjoyed our play. Then a mountain guide, a member of the Andean Club, saw our group. He warned us of deep pits covered with snow and other dangers of the mountainside. Then he led us, single-file to a shelter at the summit of the mountain, where we would camp and eat.
Our high spirits were subdued a little by his warning, but it was when we started for home that afternoon that we met dangers that required us to listen to another guide—the Holy Ghost.
By the time we boarded our bus, it was getting late and we were tired. As the driver started the bus, a wheel spun deep into the snow. We all got out to lighten the vehicle’s load. Then someone suggested that some of us could walk on ahead while the driver solved the problem. Twenty of us—all men—began our descent, confident that the bus would soon catch up with us.
Suddenly, it began to snow, and as we went along, it snowed harder. Before we knew it, night had fallen, covering the sky and the snow-covered ground like a black mantle. By this time we had walked for about an hour. Fear came upon us, and we stopped walking. One of our group who was a Boy Scout had us form a circle and sing cheerful songs with body movements to warm and entertain ourselves. But as we searched in vain for reflected light from the bus headlights, we began to feel the seriousness of our situation.
After a while, the bus did come along. But when it finally reached us, we saw that it was empty except for the driver. He told us that the bus had a broken part and that he must go down the mountain for repairs. He had left the women at the shelter, he said, and we should return there and wait for him to come for us the next day.
With that, the bus drove away, leaving us to make the long walk back to the shelter. Snow quickly covered the tracks of the bus, and we could not see the road. As we walked, our clothing got soaked and cold, and our feet sank into the soft snow with each step. Some sang, and others walked in silence. But I know that there was a prayer in each heart.
We reached a point where we had to decide whether to turn right or to keep going straight. There were various opinions, none of them based on knowledge. In that moment, we prayerfully entrusted our steps to the direction of our Father in Heaven, who guided Lehi safely through the desert. We did not have the Liahona to guide us. We had no leader to show us the way, but we did have the gift of the Holy Ghost.
We turned to the right and continued our march further into the snow-covered mountains. Suddenly someone cried, “There they are! See that light!” Our enthusiasm and hope were reborn, and, like a well-trained choir, we began singing “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
Then someone in our group said, “Quiet! Listen!” And in the silence we heard the distant voices of our brothers and sisters at the shelter joining in our grateful chorus: “Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on.”
We tried to keep singing, but our emotions kept us from doing so. In vain we tried to stop the tears that rolled down our cheeks. But as we hurried on to meet the rest of our group, we thanked our Heavenly Father for guiding and protecting us.
The next morning was Sunday, and we awoke to the wonder of a world covered with new snow. Warm inside the shelter, we gathered for Sunday School and sacrament meeting. An older couple and another young man who had also been trapped in the storm and the caretaker of the shelter also met with us. There were heartfelt messages, prayers, and songs of praise. Afterward, the nonmembers expressed their gratitude for being able to attend our meeting and for the opportunity to meet with such exceptional young people.
Later that day, the bus arrived to take us back to Santiago. What had begun as such a carefree adventure had become an experience we would always remember. Never would we forget that our Heavenly Father had saved us on that dark mountain through the guidance of the Holy Ghost.

My father and mother were sheep farmers in New Zealand. They enjoyed their life. As a young married couple, they were blessed with three little girls. The youngest of these was named Ann. One day while they were on holiday together at a lake, 17-month-old Ann toddled off. After minutes of desperate searching, she was found lifeless in the water.
This nightmare caused unspeakable sorrow. Dad wrote years later that some of the laughter went out of their lives forever. It also caused a yearning for answers to life’s most important questions: What will become of our precious Ann? Will we ever see her again? How can our family ever be happy again?

I had just come home from spending the night at a friend’s house. We had stayed up late talking, and I was really tired. When I came home I noticed every little thing out of place.
My sisters were in my room, and it was a mess. Immediately, I blamed it on them. In reality they were just there to put away some of my clean laundry. But in my grumpy state, I ordered them out and slammed the door.
As I started to clean up the room, I remembered that I had left it in a mess. But I wasn’t going to apologize to my sisters. I noticed a few of my hair clips missing and went into their room and yelled at them. By then, they were angry, and we had a fight. I was still steamed when I stalked back into my room and slammed the door again.
Many strange things can be found when you clean your room, things like socks, your Sunday dress, nylons without a run, and hair clips. I still wasn’t going to apologize to them.
A few hours later, my room was neat, but I still wasn’t very happy. I remembered what Mom had told me: “If you’re ever angry, in a bad mood, or scared, read your scriptures. And if you don’t feel like it, read them anyway.”
I opened my Bible and started to read about Jacob and Esau because that is my favorite story in the Old Testament. I read where Esau met Jacob and his family and Jacob gave Esau the gifts “to find grace in the sight of my lord” (Gen. 33:8).
I realized that if Jacob and Esau could become friends again, I could repair the relationship with my little sisters. I went in and apologized. They seemed a little surprised. When I offered them the loan of my hair clips, and they asked why, I just said, “to find grace in thy sight.”

One of the greatest lessons in devotion to the gospel came when George T. Benson received a mission call. “I was about thirteen years of age when father received a call to go on a mission. He went, leaving mother at home with seven children. The eighth was born four months after he arrived in the field, but never did we hear a murmur of complaint from Mother; she was so supportive of Father.

“The letters we received from Father were indeed a blessing. They seemed to us children to come halfway around the world, but they were only from across the country. There came into our home, as a result, a spirit of missionary work that has never left it.

“Father returned home and while we would sit each day milking the cows, he would sing over and over again, ‘Ye Elders of Israel,’ ‘Israel, Israel, God Is Calling,’ ‘Come All Ye Sons of God,’ ‘Ye Who Are Called to Labor,’ until I learned every word of several of these great missionary songs. Today I don’t need a songbook when we sing these great songs that Father sang to us morning and evening.”