Gospel Story Finder

Many years ago my husband became very ill with a rare disease. As the weeks went by and the sicker he became, the more I became convinced that he was dying. I told no one of my fears. We had a large, young family and a loving, eternal marriage, and the thought of losing my husband and raising my children by myself filled me with loneliness, despair, and even anger. I am ashamed to say that I pulled away from my Heavenly Father. For days I quit praying; I quit planning; I cried. I finally came to the realization that I could not do this alone.
For the first time in many days, I knelt down and poured out my heart to my Father in Heaven, pleading for forgiveness for turning away from Him, telling Him all of my deepest feelings, and finally crying out that if this was what He really wanted me to do, I would do it. I knew He must have a plan for our lives.
As I continued on my knees to pour out my heart, the sweetest, most peaceful, loving feeling came over me. It was as if a blanket of love was flowing over me. It was as if I could feel Heavenly Father saying, “That was all I needed to know.” I determined never to turn away from Him again. Gradually and amazingly, my husband began to get better until he made a full recovery.

Those who know him well would speak of President Nelson facing the difficulties of life with faith and courage. When cancer took the life of his 37-year-old daughter, Emily, leaving a loving husband and five small children, I heard him say, “I was her father, a medical doctor, and an Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ, but I had to bow my head and acknowledge, ‘Not my will but thine be done.’”4

Nicole loves Suriname. So when she heard about a national contest to write an essay about her country, it seemed like a good thing to do. The contest rules said to describe what she would do if she were the Minister of Tourism. In her essay she suggested that historical buildings in Suriname should be cleaned up and beautified and that citizens of Suriname should be friendlier to visitors.

Nicole won the contest for her age group and traveled to Puerto Rico to compete with winners from other countries. Nicole really enjoyed her trip to Puerto Rico. “It is a beautiful country,” she says. “The people there are very kind, and I made lots of friends. But after all, home is home.” She was eager to be with her parents and her four older sisters again. And she was anxious to see her pet cat, Rosy!

At night Nicole likes to listen to the chirping crickets and the croaking frogs and the sounds of life in the woods around her house. She also likes to think of the city, with its government buildings and street signs, flower stalls and food markets. She is happy to be where she is. And she is grateful that, by writing down her thoughts, she was able to share her love for her country with people throughout the world.

It was New Year’s Day, and a snowstorm had just blanketed the small mountain town of Estes Park, Colorado, where I lived. Filled with the excitement of the holiday season, my older brother, Roger, and I had gone outside to play in a field near our home. A little lake where we had played on the ice many times before now lay underneath a fresh mantle of snow, flat and absolutely flawless.
No one worried about the lake being unsafe at that time of year—we lived at such a high altitude that the cold weather generally insured that small lakes would be frozen. But as we were playing, Roger suddenly fell through a soft spot in the ice. I was only six years old, and I didn’t know what to do. I could see no sticks around to pull him out with; everything was covered by snow. His heavy clothing soon pulled him under the water.
I ran all the way home through the deep snow, over a mile, to get my father. We drove back to the lake, and he dove through the ice and somehow found my brother. He tried to revive him, but by that time Roger had drowned.
That experience left me with several feelings. First, I saw the strength of the gospel in my parents’ lives. We were the only members of the Church in our community. Everyone rallied around my parents to give them support and comfort, but I think that the whole community gained more comfort and understanding by watching how a knowledge of the gospel helped my family handle that very difficult situation.
Second, I learned about the purpose of this mortal experience. We come to earth to gain a body. Some of us are going to live on the earth a shorter time than others. When you’re literally side by side with your brother, and he goes through the ice and drowns and you don’t, it gives you a whole different way of thinking about life. It could have just as easily been me that drowned. But I’ve always felt that my brother’s mission here on earth had been completed and that he was just “called home” at an earlier age than most of us. But being the one who was allowed to remain, it was important to live as well as I could so that not only Heavenly Father but also my brother would be pleased with my actions.
Third, I learned a great deal from the courage exhibited by my father. He risked his life to break through that ice and dive underneath it to try to rescue his ten-year-old son. It was an immediate response; he did what he felt he needed to do. He showed great love, courage, and strength of character.

“I had a little radish patch, and my first job was raising and selling radishes. Most people turned me down, but one kind lady always bought my radishes, though I’m sure she didn’t always need them. When I was about ten years old, I started mowing lawns. We had no power mowers back then, and many of the men in the neighborhood were in the War. So I went from door to door, and for twenty-five cents or a little more depending on how big the yard was, I mowed lawns. It seems as if I always had a business of some sort.

Two Chandler Arizona Explorers took second place in the Exploring Grand National Safe Driving Road Rally in Dearborn, Michigan. They were each awarded a $750 college scholarship.
Rodney Brown and Dan Willis, members of the Chandler Second Ward, Mesa Arizona West Stake, competed against 97 entrants in the final competition. The judging was based on safe driving, accurate timing, and alert navigation skills.
More than 30,000 teenagers were involved in the contest on local levels. They participated in rallies that require cars to leave a starting point individually, at carefully recorded times, and follow a complicated route, taking them through cities, over freeways, and down country roads. Teams were expected to follow various speed limits with checkpoints and penalties if they passed these points too early or too late.
Rodney is a two-year seminary president and counselor in the priests group.
Dan is president of his school’s National Honor Society, ward choir accompanist, and a member of the varsity basketball team.

I learned about the power and blessings of the priesthood at an unfortunate time. A few years ago, when my little brother was 14, he wrecked on his motorcycle and snapped his leg in half. My dad called and told me they were taking him to the hospital. I had a sick feeling in my stomach as I rushed to the hospital. When I got there, I saw one of my uncles. He told me how bad the accident was.
Fearing what I would see, I opened the door where my brother was and stepped into the room. I took one step, closed my eyes, and was instantly at peace. Just as I will never forget the sick feeling I had, I will never forget the feeling of peace and comfort that came over me. I recognized the feeling—it was the Spirit.
I then heard my father speaking. He and my uncle were giving my brother a priesthood blessing. He humbly blessed his son in the name of Jesus Christ to be OK, to heal, to have his leg work properly again.
After the blessing, everyone was quiet for a while. I knew at that moment that I had to live worthy to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and be able to perform blessings for my future children.
When we gathered in the hall outside my brother’s room, my parents started to discuss what they should do. They debated whether to leave Mexico to take him to a doctor in the United States or to have the surgery performed here. Whatever option they felt was best for my brother, I knew he had already received the best attention he could receive. He had received a blessing by two men holding the priesthood, so no matter what my parents decided, my brother was going to be fine.
They decided to stay in Mexico for the operation. Doctors put a plate and 10 screws into my brother’s leg. It healed well, and a few months later he joined a football team. The blessing was fulfilled just as my dad had said.
I know the priesthood is the power and authority of God given to men. What a great gift He has given us.

In the Philippines, there are science high schools for academically gifted students. Students in these schools take more subjects, spend more hours in class, and devote more effort to schoolwork.
This kind of environment was toxic for me. I gave up so many things upon entering this school. I stopped learning how to play instruments. I almost never attended Church activities, and I would occasionally miss Church services on Sundays for inter-school competitions. I struggled attending seminary, although the classes were conveniently offered during weekends.
One Saturday, my seminary teacher told us about how busy she was in high school, and yet she managed to still do her seminary assignments and study the scripture mastery scriptures. She challenged us to do the same.
Challenges enliven me, so I took this one. I carried my scripture mastery cards with me everywhere. I prayed for help to manage it with my school demands. I used every window of time I had. I memorized scriptures while commuting to school. I chatted less and would take the cards out of my pocket. My friends noticed; shuffling the scripture cards became our new activity during breaks and lunchtime. They enjoyed quizzing me. Some started to bring their scriptures—even those who belonged to other denominations. They shared about activities at their own churches. I felt the atmosphere around me change, and school felt lighter and better.
My three younger sisters followed that lead, and now my family reaps the blessings of the scriptures in our relationships at home. It was more than just memorizing words; my seminary teacher taught me the difference the scriptures would make in me and in the people around me. I know that whatever challenge or trial comes to my family and friends, we will always find strength, guidance, and repose in the words of our loving Savior.

President Wilford Woodruff once had a remarkable experience to which I would like to refer. He first publicly mentioned the incident at general conference in October of 1880. Sixteen years later he gave further details in a discourse delivered at the Weber Stake conference, and his remarks were published in The Deseret Weekly. In the 1880 conference President Woodruff told of dreams he had after the death of the Prophet Joseph Smith in which he conversed with the Prophet many times. He then related another dream in which he talked with Brigham Young, and this is what he said about it:
“I saw Brother Brigham and Brother Heber ride in [a] carriage ahead of the carriage in which I rode when I was on my way to attend conference; and they were dressed in the most priestly robes. When we arrived at our destination I asked Prest. Young if he would preach to us. He said, ‘No, I have finished my testimony in the flesh I shall not talk to this people any more. But (said he) I have come to see you; I have come to watch over you, and to see what the people are doing. Then (said he) I want you to teach the people—and I want you to follow this counsel yourself—that they must labor and so live as to obtain the Holy Spirit, for without this you cannot build up the kingdom; without the spirit of God you are in danger of walking in the dark, and in danger of failing to accomplish your calling as apostles and as elders in the church and kingdom of God. And, said he, Brother Joseph taught me this principle.’” (Journal of Discourses, 21:318.)
President Woodruff then went on to say of that experience, as he spoke at the Weber Stake conference, essentially what I want to say today: “Every man and woman in this Church should labor to get that Spirit. We are surrounded by these evil spirits that are at war against God and against everything looking to the building up of the kingdom of God; and we need this Holy Spirit to enable us to overcome these influences.” (Deseret Weekly, 7 Nov. 1896, p. 643.)

On 18 September 2021, the Southwark Multi-Faith Forum held its long-awaited interfaith walk. This walk usually takes place on a yearly basis but, due to the COVID-19 pandemic, it had to be cancelled in 2020. The event was aptly themed “Faith—More in Common in a Time of COVID”.
The starting point was the historic Southwark Cathedral 1 , where walkers were welcomed by the canon precentor of the cathedral, the Rev. Canon Andrew Zihni. In his remarks he drew attention to two art installations. The first, which had recently been transferred to another location in the country, was entitled “Please Believe These Days Will Pass”. The second, still in place, was entitled “Leaves of the Tree”, by Peter Walker. It consisted of 5,000 leaves cut from steel, on each of which was carved the word hope. They were displayed on the floor of the sanctuary, giving the impression of fallen autumn leaves.
Both pieces of art, the reverend remarked, reflected a belief and attitude regarding the pandemic, namely that “even in the darkest hour, light will break through”. A sentence from the information display read: “The leaves symbolise the past, what has transpired, as we hope for a better future.”
This piece of art certainly generated much conversation amongst participants in the walk as they examined it and reflected on its message.
Following this, Rabbi Nathan Godleman provided interesting insights into the establishment and tenets of the South London Liberal Synagogue, and its beginnings in Streatham, southwest London.
The walk then moved on to St Hugh’s Church, Bermondsey, which is a sister church to Southwark Cathedral. Here, The Reverend Canon Michael Rawson spoke about the history of the building and the diversity of its parishioners. His talk included an introduction to their interfaith exhibit, an abstract painting titled “Journey Through the Wilderness—The Wilderness Panels.” It consisted of five panels, each representing the world religions of Judaism, Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, and Buddhism. The painting attracted a great deal of interest and discussion, acting as a reminder of the similarities that can bind people of different faiths. It also beautifully demonstrated the essence of the interfaith walk.
This point was further emphasised at the next venue, the Baitul Aziz Islamic Cultural Centre, near Harper Road, where the imam, in his contribution, noted the significance of love, respect, unity and service in all faith traditions.
As the walk progressed in glorious sunshine, the enthusiasm and energy of the participants was palpable, and conversations were joyful. This was very likely due to over 18 months of extremely restricted movement.
The next destination was The London Friendship Centre at The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Walworth, southeast London. There, Kyan Pucks and Samira Ciotti gave an enlightening introduction to the foundation and principles of the Baha’i Faith.
The final presentation was by Christopher Cooke, president of the Wandsworth Stake, London. Despite a lack of time, due to the interesting and engaging questions from participants, he provided a great overview of the establishment of the Church and its historical context, including remarks that affirmed its Christian tradition and how it began in England. Importantly, he highlighted the purpose of the friendship centre as a community resource to support refugees and others who may be struggling.
Each presentation included time for questions, which helped to enhance the knowledge and understanding of individuals and the group. All too soon, four hours came to an end, but the friendshipping continued for some time after, while being treated to a barbeque hosted by the friendship centre.
The success of the whole event was evidenced by participants lingering and talking for as long as it was possible. Many were enlightened and edified. The event ended as it began, recognising and appreciating the diversity of all, while focusing on the things that are held in common.
Community friendships and relationships were built, reestablished, and strengthened. Indeed, Musharraf Chaudhury, chair of the Southwark Multi-Faith Forum. remarked: “A fantastic day of sunshine, amazing venues and great speakers. It was so wonderful to see so many friends and colleagues in person after such uncertain and challenging times. Thank you to everyone involved in making what many commented as the best walk they have been on. It was an amazing display of diversity, togetherness and hope for the future.”

While attending a boarding school, I lived in a hostel with other students. I tried my best to live the principles of the gospel by praying and studying the scriptures often.
One day a classmate noticed me studying the Book of Mormon on my bed. She began to angrily list all the ways she thought that my church was false. She then told everyone else in the hostel about my “strange” beliefs. Some classmates began to mock me and my religion; others just avoided me. I finally hid my Book of Mormon under a box of my clothes and studied only the Bible so my classmates would stop taunting me.
I went on studying the Bible until I came across Romans 1:16, which proclaims: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth.” I realized that by hiding the Book of Mormon, I was showing my classmates that I was ashamed of my beliefs. I retrieved my Book of Mormon and asked Heavenly Father for forgiveness. Then I went to my peers and bore my testimony of the restored gospel. Most of them stopped insulting me and became my friends again.
I know that God understands the trials we pass through. When we stand up for our beliefs and show that we are “not ashamed of the gospel of Christ,” He will provide us with His power, protection, and direction.
Pamela O., Abuja, Nigeria

At times, I become weary. In those moments, I stop and look at a picture of the Savior. I think of Him in Gethsemane, and then, suddenly, I am no longer tired. I know in my heart that because He overcame the world, “darkness is past, and the true light now shineth” (1 John 2:8).

KJ was excited. It was Monday, but he wasn’t going to school. It was summer vacation and the first day of Cub Scout day camp.
“Look at how many people there are!” Jorge said, pointing at the grassy field that was crowded with Scouts.
Suddenly, Mike said, “Look who decided to show up. Late, as usual.”
KJ looked up to see Ben running toward them. His brown hair was damp and he was sweating by the time he got to the group.
“Hello! Hello! Hello!” Ben said shrilly as he hopped up and down. Ben always seemed to have more energy than his body knew what to do with.
A few of the boys rolled their eyes and turned away. KJ felt a little guilty as he ignored Ben and looked down at his shoes.
By the second day of camp, KJ had shot arrows, identified forest plants, and painted a picture. Now he was sanding wood for a birdhouse. Even though he was having fun, KJ knew that something wasn’t quite right.
The other boys made fun of Ben and never picked him to be on their team. Sure, Ben had trouble remembering things and paying attention, but KJ knew he was a nice kid. But KJ worried that if he started being nice to Ben, the other boys might make fun of him too.
As KJ got ready for bed, he thought about all the times Ben sat alone. After saying his prayers, KJ thought of the words to one of his favorite Primary songs: “Jesus walked away from none. He gave his love to ev’ryone. So I will! I will!”*
The next day when the boys were making crafts, KJ took a deep breath and sat down next to Ben. He knew that Jesus would want him to be nice to Ben, no matter what the other boys thought.
“Hey, look at me!” Ben said loudly. “I’m a slimy creature from the lagoon!” He raised both hands and wiggled his fingers to show that they were covered in glue. With a laugh, Ben wiped a glob of glue on KJ’s arm.
Some of the other boys shook their heads. KJ felt his face turn red, and he knew the boys were watching to see how he would react.
“You’re right about the slimy part, Ben,” KJ said, wiping off the sticky mess with a chuckle. “Are you going to decorate your picture frame with sea creatures? That’d be pretty cool.”
Ben looked at him and a grin spread across his face. “Great idea!” he said.
At the end of craft time, KJ felt good when a few of the other boys said hi to Ben.
Soon the whole group was heading to the water sports area.
“OK, everyone, pick a partner for the water balloon toss!” a camp volunteer said.
“Ben, do you want to be my partner?” KJ asked.
“You bet! You bet!” Ben said, giving KJ a big high five. As they grabbed their water balloons, Jorge wished KJ good luck.
“Good luck to you too, Ben!” Jorge said.
The days passed quickly, and soon it was the last day of camp.
“What was your favorite part of camp?” Dad asked KJ on the way home.
KJ looked down at his Cub Scout manual and thought about the belt loops he had earned. Then he pulled out a picture tucked between the pages of the book. It showed the boys crowded around a table after a soccer game. Every one of them, including Ben, had a huge smile on his face. By the end of the week, almost all of the boys were treating Ben like a friend.
“It was fun to make some new friends,” KJ said with a smile.

Delwyn and Jill Jensen, who served a military relations mission in Germany, tell how a simple interaction with a military member helped her to find again—and then move forward along—the covenant path.
When she joined the air force, this young woman stopped attending church. “But when we reached out to her with a text, she responded right away,” Sister Jensen says. She began attending church regularly, helping with service projects and sharing her testimony of Jesus Christ.
As the Jensens worked with her, they found she was reluctant to meet with the bishop. But with their love and gentle encouragement, she finally made and kept an appointment. “Afterward, she reported it was one of the most positive experiences of her life,” Elder Jensen said, “and the bishop gave us a similar report.”
The Jensens continued to support her in preparing to go to the temple and in receiving a patriarchal blessing.

Elder Michael A. Dunn’s parents divorced when he was a small child, but as his mother raised him, she instilled in him strong faith and values. After attending a private Episcopal school in Salt Lake City, Utah, USA, he transferred to a public high school, where he met members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
As his new friends and their parents welcomed him with open arms, Michael desired to learn about the Church. Eventually he decided to meet with the missionaries. Their teachings about the Godhead and Joseph Smith’s First Vision “landed in me with real power,” he said.
Through prayer he knew the gospel was true and was baptized during his senior year of high school. Since then, Elder Dunn has been “nurtured by a string of incredible leaders.”

Brethren, as you may remember, while speaking this morning I referred to our recent visit to the Caribbean Islands and the wonderful missionary work that has been accomplished in the two short years since we opened up those islands for the preaching of the gospel.
One incident occurred in Santo Domingo that I did not have time to tell you about. I think I should like to relate it to you now.
We held an evening general meeting in Santo Domingo, the capital city of the Dominican Republic. Nearly 1600 souls were present.
About an hour after the close of the general meeting, a busload of one hundred members from the Puerto Plata Branch arrived at the meeting place. They had been delayed because their bus broke down. Under ordinary circumstances, they could have made the trip in about four hours, but they finally arrived after 10:00 p.m. to find the hall dark and empty. Many wept because they were so disappointed. All were converts, some for a few months and others only weeks or days.
Sister Kimball and I had gone to bed after a long and tiring day. Upon learning of the plight of these faithful souls, my secretary knocked on the door of our hotel room and woke us up. He apologized for disturbing us but thought that I would want to know about the late arrivals and perhaps dictate a personal message to them. However, I felt that wouldn’t be good enough and not fair to those who had come so far under such trying circumstances—one hundred people jammed into one bus. I got out of bed and dressed and went downstairs to see the members who had made such an effort only to be disappointed because of engine trouble. The Saints were still weeping as we entered the hall, so I spent more than an hour visiting with them.
They then seemed relieved and satisfied and got back on the bus for the long ride home. They had to get back by morning to go to work and to school. Those good people seemed so appreciative of a brief visit together that I felt we just couldn’t let them down. As I returned to my bed, I did so with a sense of peace and contentment in my soul.

Sarah quickly finished dressing as the morning sun streamed into her bedroom. She was so excited that she could hardly button her shirt. She’d been counting the days till her tenth birthday for weeks, and it was finally here.
She hurried downstairs to the kitchen. “Morning, Mom; morning, Dad,” she said, planting a kiss on each cheek and slipping into her seat at the breakfast table.
“Happy birthday, honey.” Her mother was making Sarah’s favorite breakfast—strawberry pancakes.
“How’s my birthday girl?” asked Dad squeezing her shoulders.
There it was, next to her plate. A little velvet box. Ever since her best friend, Sally, got a real ring on her last birthday, Sarah had been pleading for one of her own. Sally’s was beautiful—ruby red with a rhinestone on each side that glistened in the sun. Sarah gingerly touched the fuzzy fabric.
“Go ahead—open it,” Mom said from the stove.
Her heart pounding, Sarah closed her eyes and lifted the lid. When she opened them again, her heart sank. Nestled inside the beautiful little box was a plain silver ring with a tiny stone that looked like glass, not the brightly colored gem she had imagined. And the ring didn’t even look new.
“Do you like it, Sarah?” asked Dad.
Hiding her disappointment, Sarah answered, “A ring is just what I wanted.”
“It was your great-grandmother’s, you know,” Mom said, setting Sarah’s plate in front of her. “It’s an heirloom.”
“It’s very nice. Thanks.” Sarah stared hard at the ring in front of her and swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Here, let me.” Dad leaned across the table and slid the ugly little ring onto Sarah’s finger. He stood up. “I have to leave now, but I’ll be home early for cake.” He winked at Sarah, kissed them both good-bye, and left for work.
Sarah walked slowly down the sidewalk toward school, knowing that Sally would be waiting for her at the corner. There she was. Sarah slowed her steps even more.
“Happy birthday!” Sally called, beaming. “Did you get it? Let me see it.” And before Sarah could pull away, Sally had grabbed her hand and was staring at the ring.
Forcing a smile, Sarah mumbled, “It belonged to my great-grandmother.”
Sally shrugged. “It’s nice,” she said politely, admiring her own hand.
When they got to school, Sarah slipped the ring off and tucked it into her pocket.
That afternoon she went home from school to find her mother hanging paper streamers in the dining room.
“Hi, sweetie, how was your day?” Then, seeing Sarah’s hand, she gasped, “Oh no! You didn’t lose the ring?”
Horrified, Sarah remembered that it was still in her pocket. She pulled it out hurriedly as she stammered, “No, Mom. I took it off because I was afraid of … of losing it and … and …” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t dare look at Mom’s face.
Mom sat down and patted the seat next to her. “You’re a little disappointed with it, aren’t you?” she asked softly.
Sarah started to shake her head but then just nodded and looked down at her lap, blinking back tears.
“I’m sorry, Sarah, that we didn’t give this to you tonight, when we could tell you about it, instead of this morning, when Dad and you had to rush off. Let’s see, where should I begin … ? We did tell you that it’s an heirloom. Do you know what an heirloom is?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Now we’re giving it to you. It’s a little piece of our family,” she finished. “Do you understand what an heirloom is now?”
Sarah gazed at the ring still clutched in her hand. Hugging her mother, she whispered, “Thanks for telling me, Mom. I’ll be careful with it.” She slipped it back on, and the sun glinted on the tiny stone for a second. Sarah felt as if she herself was shining.
“You’d better go change, or you’ll be late for your own party!” Mom reminded her now. Sarah dashed upstairs. When the doorbell rang a few minutes later, it was Sally. Sarah held out her hand with the ring on it, proclaiming happily, “Wait till you hear all about my ring—it’s an heirloom!”

A few nights ago I had a dream. I saw a piece of white paper with a name on it I did not know and a date I could only partially read. I got up and went to the records of my family. The last name on the slip of paper is from a line which came into my mother’s ancestry 300 years ago in a place called Eaton Bray. Someone is anxious for a long wait to end. I have not yet found that person. But I have found again the assurance that a loving God sends help in answer to prayer in this sacred work of redeeming our families, which is His work and His glory and to which we have pledged our hearts. I so testify, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

May I illustrate this truth with a personal experience. Many years ago, while serving as a bishop, I felt impressed to call upon Augusta Schneider, a widow from the Alsace-Lorraine area of Europe who spoke very little English, although she was fluent in French and German. For years after that first impression I would visit with her at Christmastime. On one occasion, Augusta said, “Bishop, I have something of great value to me which I would like to present to you.” She then went to a special place in her modest apartment and retrieved the gift. It was a beautiful piece of felt, perhaps six by eight inches in size, to which she had pinned the medals her husband had been presented for his service as a member of the French forces in World War I. She said, “I would like you to have this personal treasure which is so close to my heart.” I protested politely and suggested there must be some member of her extended family to whom the gift should be given. “No,” she replied firmly, “the gift is yours, for you have the soul of a Frenchman.”
Shortly after presenting this special gift to me, Augusta departed mortality and went home to that God who gave her life. Occasionally I would wonder concerning her declaration that I had “the soul of a Frenchman.” I didn’t have the slightest idea what that meant. I still don’t.
Many years later, I had the privilege to accompany President Ezra Taft Benson to the dedication of the Frankfurt Germany Temple, which temple would serve German-, French-, and Dutch-speaking members. In packing for the trip, I felt impressed to take along the gift of medals, without any thought concerning what I would do with them. I’d had them a number of years.
In a French-speaking dedication session, the temple was filled. The singing and messages presented were beautiful. Gratitude for God’s blessings penetrated each heart. I saw from my conducting notes that the session included members from the Alsace-Lorraine area.
During my remarks, I observed that the organist had the name of Schneider. I therefore related the account of my association with Augusta Schneider, then stepped to the organ and presented the organist with the medals, along with the charge that since his name was Schneider, he had a responsibility to pursue the Schneider name in his genealogical activities. The Spirit of the Lord confirmed in our hearts that this was a special session. Brother Schneider had a difficult time preparing to play the closing number of the dedicatory service, so moved was he by the Spirit which we felt there in the temple.
I knew that the treasured gift—even the widow’s mite, for it was all Augusta Schneider had—was placed in the hand of one who would ensure that many with the souls of Frenchmen would now receive the blessings the holy temples provide, both to the living and for those who have passed beyond mortality.

Tom admits he sometimes hated stuttering and wondered why he had such a problem. One time, assigned to speak at a convert baptism in his Texas Dallas Mission, Tom stood before the congregation with confidence, believing the Lord would help him. But he could not utter one word fluently. That evening he prayed, “Why did you abandon me?” The next day at fast meeting, Tom felt prompted to stand. Without a single pause, he bore a powerful witness of the Savior and of the truthfulness of the gospel.
Two weeks later, a sister in the ward told Tom her inactive brother had attended both the baptism and fast meeting. “If I ever doubted God lives, I will never doubt it again, because I saw Him help that young man to speak,” he told his sister.