Gospel Story Finder

President Eyring said that when his daughter was young, she went to the temple to do temple baptisms. She was the last one being baptized that day. But there were still many names left. The temple workers asked again and again, “Can you do more baptisms?” Each time, she said yes. She was determined to serve the Lord.

One of Sister Redd’s “jewel” times was at the birth of her first child, a son. But within three months the trials and tests of this life closed in. Both mother and child were afflicted with polio. Anxieties were high and prayers were intense. Brother Philip Redd, her husband and now area director of seminaries and institutes in Southeast Asia, was preparing within the month to begin his career as a full-time seminary teacher. “We felt we had really tried to do what was right and that we were doing what the Lord wanted us to be doing. We had faith that the Lord would bless us even in our afflictions.”

Our Father in Heaven has told us that his people must be tried and tested, even as Abraham who was commanded to offer up his only son (see Gen. 22:1–4; D&C 101:4). And so it was that this faithful couple was tested. Their prayers were answered, but only partially. Sister Redd was healed and left without any ill effects from the dread disease, but her precious child, her only son, was stricken with crippling paralysis in his leg, his arms, and his back. The brightness of a happy time had quickly faded. The scratches and bites of life became a painful reality. Brother and Sister Redd were forced to give up their child to the professional care of the children’s hospital over a hundred miles away where he could receive special attention. Even after a year he was still very weak and progress remained slow.

Three long, anxious years, and the concern for her child only increased. The divine nature of a true and righteous mother, with all of the pure emotions inherent in the sacred role of motherhood, swelled within her aching heart. “I wanted desperately for him to be well,” she whispered. “It was so hard not to be able to tuck my little boy in at night. His life was vital to us.”

One night at the very peak of her anxiety, this young mother rose from her bed, went into the other room, and talked to her Father in Heaven. She had remembered an incident in her own childhood. A great and noble woman had prayed in behalf of her afflicted husband and requested that, if the Lord were willing, she be allowed to carry her husband’s infirmities so that his service to the Lord would not be restricted. This sister, almost immediately, became stone deaf and remained so throughout her life, while her husband, miraculously healed, became a spiritual giant, a man of God, and a powerful leader in building the kingdom of God in that area. With the memory of this incident in her heart, this faithful mother supplicated the Father in her son’s behalf, asking if she might take her son’s infirmities upon herself. Of this incident she concluded, “I returned to my bed and went to sleep.”

Even though her baby remained in the hospital, there were still some happy, “jewel” times. Another little boy was born and then a little girl. In time the afflicted child became stronger and stronger, and he learned to walk with braces. Eventually he was able to leave the hospital for a time, allowing this little family to be together at home for Christmas.

While there were ample reasons for quiet rejoicing, the scratching, biting times were painfully evident. Gradually over the following months Sister Redd became aware that she was losing the feeling in her hands and her feet. While diapering her baby, she would often stick the safety pin into her thumb unknowingly. When she noticed the blood, her growing concern increased. She sensed a frightening paralysis creeping over her entire body. It was very difficult for her to handle her new baby and the responsibilities of her young family. As the months and years passed, there were both struggles and blessings. Braces were laid aside and her little son managed to make his way to school. The blessings were acknowledged with humble gratitude, deeply expressed. But suffering severe headaches and with no feeling in her hands or feet, the young mother of three cried out for help. The support of family and friends seemed not enough. “People were good, so very, very good,” she gratefully recalled. “But being restricted physically, not being able to take care of those you love, is difficult.”

At this time a team of specialists determined that it was probably multiple sclerosis that had afflicted her body, leaving her so painfully handicapped. The thoughts of her future gave cause for great anxiety. “That was years ago,” she said. Sister Redd, now a beautiful, healthy, and active woman, vibrant in countenance and testimony, radiates a spirit that has been purified through struggle.

She spoke of the day she and her devoted husband, seeking first the will of the Lord in all things, asked counsel from a friend who had been the supervisor of seminaries and was now a General Authority. “He told us that he didn’t think the Lord meant for me to give my life. He gave me a blessing, explaining that the Lord had accepted my offering in behalf of my child. He promised me that I would live. But it is not we who regulate the magnitude of our tests or determine the time of relief,” she explained. “We do not receive a witness until after the trial of our faith (see Ether 12:6), and our Father in Heaven will make that determination.”

The very hour one might expect relief may be the moment in which the Lord will take count of our endurance and our faithfulness. Following the blessing, Sister Redd’s condition worsened, and on the 25th of October she was confined to bed. She had to be fed, and “I couldn’t even brush my teeth,” she explained. “My good husband and I talked about the purpose of life and death, and we prayed that we could accept whatever the Lord had for us. At that time we felt that everything would be all right.” Drawing strength from each other, these young parents were tested and were found “willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon [them], even as a child doth submit to his father” (Mosiah 3:19).

On the 20th of December Nedra Redd was flown to the hospital in Edmonton. There she received further tests. After two long, anxious days, the doctors confirmed the probability that it was not multiple sclerosis that had afflicted her entire body, but rather a very deep and serious brain tumor at the base of her skull. It appeared to be inoperable. In her weakened condition, the possibility of surgery was considered a high and frightening risk. But the doctors explained that she would have only two weeks to live if they didn’t remove the growth. It was seriously impairing her breathing and would soon cut off her rapidly diminishing flow of air. The situation seemed desperate. One doctor offered counsel, suggesting that if they wanted to risk surgery, they would surely want to wait until after Christmas. But Sister Redd reached into her reservoir of strength, filled in large measure by the blessing she had received from their friend the General Authority. Courageously this young couple made their decision. “Surgery was scheduled for Christmas Eve,” she said. “We felt our Father in Heaven was beginning to answer our prayers. On Sunday night my cousin, who was the stake president, came to give me a blessing. He told me later that when he gave me that blessing, he literally felt the strength flow from him.” The power of the priesthood was again activated in her behalf.

Anxious family and friends waited through the nightlong vigil following the surgery. Dawn broke forth; it was Christmas morning. The tumor had been removed. All was quiet as the moments ticked on in that hospital room. Her future hung in the balance. “I had a very special thinking time as I regained consciousness,” Sister Redd explained. It was in the twilight time between life and death that the gifts of life came back to this faithful woman on that Christmas morning. They returned one by one with enough space between each to allow time for cherishing and savoring. Such gifts, such jewels, such priceless jewels!

“I’m all right! I didn’t die in surgery! I’m alive!” was her first realization. “But everything was black, and I couldn’t hear anything. I tried to speak, and I couldn’t speak. I thought, ‘I’m blind. I can’t hear. I can’t speak. But I am alive.’ I can remember such a surge of gratitude that I was alive, and then I sank into unconsciousness again. When I realized later that I was conscious again and that there was a sort of grayness around me, I thought, ‘I am not totally blind. I can see some light.’ I can remember praying and telling my Father, ‘Thank you. I’m alive and I’m not totally blind.’ I couldn’t have lived in darkness. So I gave thanks again. Then I realized I could see Phil’s face. My husband was talking to me, but I couldn’t hear him. But,” she said with intensity, “I could see him. I was grateful that I could see his face.

“Soon I realized I could hear him speaking to me, so I prayed again and gave thanks that I could see and hear. I thought, ‘I can’t speak, but it’s enough. I can see and I can hear.’”

Sister Redd, reflecting on her deep gratitude for those precious gifts on that Christmas morning, shared the ecstasy of her final treasure. “The doctor was there. I had been trying to speak. I heard him ask my husband, ‘Can she speak?’ He shook his head just slightly. ‘I was afraid of that,’ the doctor said. ‘We had to destroy quite a bit of her vocal chords to get the tumor.’ I was afraid she would not be able to speak.”

With a happy tone in her clear, full voice, Sister Redd recalled her thoughts at that moment: “‘Oh, so that’s it,’ I thought. ‘I can’t talk. But I can hear and I can see.’ I had such a deep feeling of joy and gratitude. Then the doctor put his finger on the hole in my throat where the tracheotomy was and said, ‘Now try.’ I could make sounds! I knew I was not mute. It was such a good feeling. We knew the Lord had blessed us.

“It was Christmas morning. Phil had spent the night with me when I needed him so much. With my whole soul filled with gratitude and thanksgiving, I asked him to go home and be with the children. It was a wonderful Christmas.”

From the deep reservoir of faith and courage, carved out by times of trial and suffering, Brother and Sister Redd rejoice. “It is such a comforting feeling to know that there is nothing the Lord can’t do or won’t do for you if it is for your good.” They have made this discovery: “The Lord is in the everyday things, not just the eternal, glorious things. It’s like the comparison between the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’ and quiet background music. He is in both, and knowing that provides a continuous awareness of happily-ever-after times in all of life.”

One Sunday two years ago I was attending sacrament meeting in my ward. That’s a rarity. There were three priests at the sacrament table, with the young man in the center being somewhat handicapped in movement but particularly so in speech. He tried twice to bless the bread but stumbled badly each time, no doubt embarrassed by his inability to give the prayer perfectly. One of the other priests then took over and gave the blessing on the bread.
During the passing of the bread, I thought to myself, “I just can’t let that young man experience failure at the sacrament table.” I had a strong feeling that if I didn’t doubt, he would be able to bless the water effectively. Inasmuch as I was on the stand near the sacrament table, I leaned over and said to the priest closest to me, pointing to the young man who had experienced the difficulty, “Let him bless the water; it’s a shorter prayer.” And then I prayed. I didn’t want a double failure. I love that passage of scripture which tells us that we should not doubt but believe.
When it was time to bless the water, that young man knelt again and gave the prayer, perhaps somewhat haltingly but without missing a word. I rejoiced silently. While the deacons were passing the trays, I looked over at the boy and gave him a thumbs-up. He gave me a broad smile. When the young men were excused to sit with their families, he sat on the row between his mother and father. What a joy it was to see his mother give him a big smile and a warm hug, while his father congratulated him and put his arm around his shoulder. All three of them looked in my direction, and I gave them all a thumbs-up. I could see the mother and father wiping tears from their eyes. I felt impressed that this young man would do just fine in the future.

An example of a master teacher was President David O. McKay, who called me to be a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. He taught with love and with sensitivity. He was the epitome of what he taught. His heart was kind, and his manner was gracious. He was a teacher of truth after the pattern of the Savior.

I observed this trait when, long before I was a General Authority, I entered his office to review some printing proofs of a book that we were printing. On that particular occasion, I noticed a picture on the wall, and I said to him, “President McKay, that’s a lovely painting. Is it a rendition of your childhood home in Huntsville, Utah?”

He sat back in his chair and gave a familiar David O. McKay chuckle and said, “Let me tell you about that picture. A sweet woman came in to see me one autumn day and presented to me that beautiful painting, framed and ready to be placed on the wall. She said, ‘President McKay, I spent much of the summer painting this picture of your ancestral home.’” He said he accepted the gift and thanked her profusely.

And then he said to me, “Do you know, Brother Monson, that dear woman painted the wrong house. She painted the house next door! I didn’t have the heart to tell her she painted the wrong house.”

But then he made this comment—and here is a vital lesson for all of us. He said, “In reality, Brother Monson, she painted the right house for me, because when, as a young boy, I would lie on the bed which was on the front porch of my ancestral home, the view I had through that screened porch was of the very house she painted. She did paint the right house for me!”

One night when I was afraid, my mom told me stories about when she was a little girl. She said that sometimes she got scared, and her mom, my Grandma Smith, would sing to her. Grandma Smith said that her mom, my Great-grandma Hill, used to get scared at night, too. And Great-grandma Hill remembered how her mother, my Great-great-grandma Wirthlin, used to sing “Dearest Children, God Is Near You” (Hymns, no. 96) to her and her brothers and sisters. Great-grandma Hill said that this hymn gave her a special feeling of peace. She sang it to her children, Grandma Smith sang it to Mom, and Mom sang it to me. It helps me know that Heavenly Father watches over me and cares for me, just as He did for Mom and all of my grandmas. One night, after Mom sang this hymn to me, I lay in bed and made up a fourth verse:
Dearest children, God is near you,
Standing with you day and night.
Through the scriptures, He will teach you
How you can always choose the right.
We love the Lord.
He loves us, too.
If we have faith, we’ll return home.
Great-great-grandma Wirthlin died when Grandma Hill was only 22 years old. I wonder if she knew that the little boy she sang to, Joseph Leopold Wirthlin, would one day become the Presiding Bishop of the Church and that his son, Joseph B. Wirthlin, would become an Apostle. I wonder if she knew that a song that she sang to her children so long ago would bring peace to me, her great-great-granddaughter, so many years later. Someday I will sing this song to my children. Great-great-grandma Wirthlin left a great legacy of faith for me and for all of her posterity.Tiffany Starr, age 7Mesa, Arizona

During the funeral services, the Hinckleys’ five children—Kathleen, Richard, Virginia, Clark, and Jane—shared quotes from Sister Hinckley and gave expressions of gratitude to their mother. Clark Hinckley read a letter written by President Hinckley to his wife after nearly 60 years of marriage. “My darling, … I have known you for a long time … and it has turned out as I had hoped it would. … Now we have grown old together. … And when in some future day the hand of death gently touches one or the other of us, there will be tears, yes, but there will also be a quiet and certain assurance of reunion and eternal companionship.”

Some years ago Elder Marion D. Hanks told about a group of Boy Scouts who went cave exploring. The narrow trail was marked with white stones and lighted in sections as they went. After about an hour they came to a huge, high dome. Below it lay an area called the Bottomless Pit, so called because the floor of the cave had collapsed into a deep, gaping hole. It was hard not to jostle each other on that narrow path. Pretty soon, one of the bigger boys accidentally pushed a smaller boy into a muddy area away from the light. Terrified as he lost his footing, he screamed in the darkness. The ranger heard his cry of terror and came quickly. The boy let out another cry as the beam of the ranger’s light showed that he was right on the very edge of the pit.
In this story, the boy was rescued. But this does not always happen. So many times young people are enticed to go to the very edge or even beyond it. With only a precarious toehold, it is easy to be seriously injured or even die. Life is too precious to throw away in the name of excitement or, as Jacob said in the Book of Mormon, “looking beyond the mark.”

I have been receiving the New Era for three and one half of the almost five years I have been waiting for my baptism. I have chosen to honor my parents’ request and wait until my 18th birthday to join the Church. Waiting is hard, but worthwhile. I must take this time to thank the New Era for helping me wait. Each monthly issue has brought me one step closer to my goal. Thank you for touching my heart with inspiring and thought-provoking lessons and stories that encourage me to progress each and every day. The New Era is not only for Church members but also for nonmembers like me who have to be patient and wait to be members of the Lord’s true church. I love the Church and the New Era. Thank you for making my wait easier and a little bit shorter.
Nancy Faye MillerWausau, Wisconsin

When I was preparing for a mission, there was a quota in the United States on religious deferrals granted to the Church, affecting how many could serve because of the Vietnam conflict. Only two young men per ward were allowed to serve missions, and there were 17 eligible priests in our ward. The quota was filled by chronological age, and I was number 14 of 17. I learned about pondering and praying when I wondered how I was going to fit into this quota. I thought I would go on a mission within the next couple of years, or wait until either the Vietnam conflict was over, or go when I was 25 years old and no longer subject to the draft or the quota system.
I received some wise advice from my bishop, who advised me to “pursue a mission now.” The only way I could do that was to enlist in the military and receive a change of status, but I pondered and prayed about it because I knew that conflict was imminent, and I wasn’t sure that would really be the best direction. I had to ask myself some hard questions. I had been accepted into a master’s program in architecture at the University of Utah for a five-year course that I did not want to interrupt. But it didn’t feel right to postpone my mission, so I had gone to the bishop and asked for his suggestion. He said, “Prepare and go now.”
Deciding to serve a mission was an expansion of faith driven by two possible options: “Do I do it now?” or “Do I do it later?” I had worked through the decision to go on a mission now, and a good bishop advised me to persevere toward a solution that would allow it to happen.
That solution came when I enlisted in the Air Force Reserves. After serving for one year, I was able to reclassify my status and thereby avoid being part of the mission quota. This change allowed me to go on a mission when I was almost 20. My mission was a wonderful experience that would not have happened had I not pondered, prayed, performed by seeking good guidance, and persevered.
Most of the group who went into the Air Force Reserves that year were a little older than I was, and I learned a lot from them. I remained worthy, and it was a wonderful thing to know that those who were with me recognized and appreciated my standards. Associating with those good people helped me to be a better missionary.

This is one of the oldest songs in our hymnbook (see Hymns, no 124). The opening line of the hymn was inspired by Psalm 46:10: “Be still, and know that I am God.” Katharina von Schlegel, the author of this hymn, was born in 1697. Katharina loved the scriptures and knew them well. This song has references not only to the book of Psalms, but also St. John, Matthew, 1 Corinthians, and 1 Thessalonians. Katharina wrote this hymn to remind us to look to a future of “purest joys restored” even amidst the trials and difficulties of this life.

Early in my youth, I was counseled in a blessing to stay close to my mother and to keep her advice near me, and I would be safe. I have always remembered that, but I often wondered about it because it was my father who seemed to give most of the advice. Then one winter when I was in the seventh grade, I had blood poisoning and became quite ill. My father was traveling at the time—in the summer he farmed, and in the winter he traveled, selling livestock feed. It was during this period that mother gave me some important counsel. It concerned moral cleanliness, and I’ll always be grateful for that advice. It helped me to set some personal standards early in my life.

On my office wall is a quote from Anne Morrow Lindbergh: “My life cannot implement in action the demands of all the people to whom my heart responds” (Gift from the Sea [1955], 124). For me, it is a needed reminder. A few years ago, already weary, I foolishly went late one afternoon to two different hospitals to give blessings to three individuals who were dying of cancer. Not only was I worn out, but worse, the last person really didn’t get much from me. Things had not been “done in wisdom and order.” I was running faster than my supply of strength and energy on that occasion. Those blessings would have been better given over two or three days, and I would have had more empathy and energy.

When Spencer was a deacon, his duties included gathering fast offerings, which at the time were often fruit, flour, and vegetables. His father lent him the horse and buggy, and Spencer took the responsibility very seriously.
Spencer: The other boy hasn’t shown up. Well, the job still has to be done.I’ll just have to do it alone.
Spencer went on to become the secretary and then president of his deacons quorum.

Trevor adds a few more lessons learned in the mission field. “When I first got to Mexico, I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. There were people living in one-room houses about the size of my bedroom, with eight kids and maybe one bed, a chair, and a table. The door would be a curtain hanging down. You see other people put up four stakes, wrap butcher paper around them, and that’s their house.
“But the thing that struck me was that amidst all that lack of physical comfort, the people were happy. I mean, they were really happy. As time went on, I came to know that they placed very little value on material things, and a lot of value on people—the family—relationships. Mexico is very family oriented, and I think that’s one of the reasons why the Church is growing so fast down there. People love each other, and that’s their life. That became my life too.”

What started out as a simple conversation about temple work and a desire to see the different temples in the area turned into a full-scale youth conference for the young men and women of the Salt Lake Valley First Ward (Deaf). They decided not only to visit but also to perform baptisms for the dead at several temples in their area.
Over the summer, the youth were able to do work for 1,196 souls; many of them were names provided by ward members or even family names the youth had researched. “Every time you visit the temple you can feel the Spirit,” said Austin Duran, 14. “As you visit the temple more, your spirit becomes stronger and you become attached to the temple and want to go all of the time.”
Many of the youth have gained a new perspective on the importance of the temple as a result of their temple service youth conference. “I have a new standard,” explained Riley Case, 13. “Now every time I think of something I should or shouldn’t do, I decide if that will help me go to the temple or not.”

Bishop Brown’s relationship with his family is one of respect and love, of understood meanings, and of honest and helpful criticism. Joanne, Bishop Brown’s oldest daughter, remembers that when she went to BYU there was a lesson given in her student ward about loving your parents, and the counsel was given to the new students at BYU to write their parents and tell them of their love for them. Joanne said, “In our home we didn’t say I love you, we just loved each other.” But Joanne followed instructions and wrote her father and mother telling them how much she really did love them. When Bishop Brown received that letter he called his daughter immediately. Joanne says she will always remember how touched and grateful her father was for her expression of love to him.

Henry B. Eyring’s great-grandfather rejoices that the Lord watched over and inspired him during a difficult mission.

Just a few weeks ago, my brother and I caught a really strange toad in our neighbor’s front yard. We showed it to Mom and Dad, and they said it was not really a toad at all, but a special kind of lizard often called a horned toad.

We made a home for him by putting some sand in the bottom of an empty aquarium and setting it on top of the Ping Pong table outside on our back patio.

My dad asked a friend of his who studies lizards what horned toads eat, and he found out that they like big red ants. We went over to a park by a school where there was a small hole in the ground that had hundreds of ants running in and out. The ants crawled up on sticks that we placed on the ground and then my brothers and I flicked them into a jar. Back home we dumped them into the horned toad’s aquarium. He sat very still. But whenever an ant came close to him, he would zip over and gobble it up. One day we fed him ten ants, the next day twenty, and the next day thirty. Not knowing how many ants he should eat, we decided twenty was about right.

While living in the Dominican Republic, I went to visit a sister who had just gotten home from the hospital after giving birth to her third child. I was surprised by how well and calm she looked. Her other two children were still so young! After a few minutes into our conversation, she shared with me how peaceful she felt because the Relief Society sisters had signed up to come to help her every day for the next few days. She felt loved.

Father passed away this week. After the funeral Mother gave me Father’s silver pocket watch to remember him by.