Gospel Story Finder

I also recognize my Aunty Lisa who suddenly and tragically passed away two days ago as a result of domestic violence. Aunty Lisa helped my parents raise my sister Nicole and I. We will be eternally grateful for her positive influence in our lives. As her "surrogate" children my sisters and I will always have fond memories of our Aunty and will look forward to seeing her in the next life. We know the plan of salvation and the doctrines pertaining unto it, but this tragic circumstance still pains. And I have learned of how the Lord works in mysterious ways and how I can continue to trust in Him. I feel as Job, "…the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD" (Job 1:21). On behalf of my family and I, thank you for your prayers and kind thoughts. I take comfort in the joy of the resurrection and eternal progression.

“Should we pay our tithing or make our farm payment?” That was the dilemma facing my father, Henry L. Smith, in 1920.
Like the others who had settled the small Latter-day Saint community of Virden, New Mexico, my parents were hard-working people who trusted in the Lord. But we were not financially prosperous. A few sacks of grain were usually about all we had to show for a year’s work.
After many prayers and lots of hard work, we had a good wheat harvest in 1920. But the demand and the selling price were very low. Through bartering, we had enough to eat. Then the mortgage payment came due. It was important that all of the families who had purchased the farmland together make their payment on time—or everyone’s property would be in jeopardy.
My parents, like most farmers, had to wait until harvest time to pay their tithing. Unfortunately, they realized that they could pay their tithing or the farm payment, but not both. Daddy did have several sacks of wheat he could sell, but he had no interested buyers.
“We felt we had to pay our tithing, but we could not fail with our land payment,” he wrote in his journal. “We went to the Lord and placed our problem before Him. When we were through, we had the impression we should pay our tithing first.”
According to Daddy’s journal, a few days after he had paid the tithing, “a man whom I had never seen before came and purchased all of our wheat at a good price. We now had the money for our land payment.”
Where the man came from or where he went, Daddy never found out. Nor did he learn why the man was willing to pay such a good price. His journal simply records: “We felt the Lord had a way of taking care of us if we were faithful and put our trust in him.”
The Lord had indeed opened the windows of heaven and poured us out a blessing.

In 1999, ten years ago, I was living in Los Angeles. All of my education is in composition and I was working as a composer [and] as a music teacher, when I heard about what was happening in Kosovo. Now a story that I heard on the radio talked about how the Serbs were trying to ethnically cleanse Kosovo of all the Albanians. Now what they would do is go into a village, force the women and the men to separate, and then the women were told to leave and to walk to another country. The men and boys, meanwhile, were rounded up. Some of them escaped, many of them were killed, and many of them were taken to prison. The women had no place to go. They were told to leave their own country and to go to a refugee camp in a neighboring country. The conditions in the camps were horrible, but the worst thing was that they did not know what happened to their husbands and sons, their fathers, their brothers, and there was no communication to find out what was happening.

This radio program was interviewing these women, and they were talking about this, and how scared they were, and how they were just praying that the men in their lives were alive. Well, I had heard about this and was actually planning a backpacking in Austria that summer. So I thought, I am already going to Europe, I might as well go to Kosovo instead and help out. I had no idea where Kosovo was; all I knew was that it was in Europe, and Austria was in Europe, so how far apart could they be? That's how a lot of plans have happened in my life that have turned out very well.

I decided to go, and I found this volunteer organization, and the way that it worked was that you paid your way to get to the country and then you gave them some money when you arrived to cover your accommodations. You lived with them, and then you participated with their programs. And they were working with the children that were living in the refugee camps, so I thought that this would be a really great thing to do.

I was talking someone about this, and they offered to give me some money to help pay for this. I said, "Oh no, this is not what this is about. I am just doing this instead of going on vacation. It won't cost anything more than it would cost me to spend a month in Austria." This woman said, "No, you do not understand. My husband and I have been talking about this all week, and we want to go too, but we can't go. So we'd like to give you some money so it's like we are going with you." I said, "Well, let me think about that, because that is totally different from what I was planning."

I went home that night and was talking to my next door neighbor, who was a friend of mine from the singles ward in Los Angeles. I said, "I don't know what to do ”I don't want to take money from anyone." She said, "Liz, don't be stupid. Don't just go to go, do what you do best. Take a music program over there to the kids." So my singles group in L.A. started holding fundraising events; my ward got really involved, I started contacting instrument manufacturers, and I ended up going with about $5,000 worth of musical instruments. The instruments that I chose to go with are the harmonica and the penny whistle [holds them up]. The reason I chose these instruments was because they're simple. Anyone can learn to play these instruments, but you can also play complex music. Also, they're small, and I knew these children were living in camps, and they would at some point have to walk home. I wanted them to have something that was small enough to put in their pocket, and no one would be able to take it away from them.

I arrived in Kosovo in August 1999, and the war had been over for a few weeks, and so everyone had returned back to Kosovo. But when they got there, they found that everything had been destroyed ”absolutely everything: the streets, the schools, the homes, everything. And if you were lucky enough that your home was not destroyed, you had to be careful because things might be booby-trapped inside of your home, so most of the people living in Kosovo had to live in camps even after they went home. And the camps inside of Kosovo, instead of being tents, were just buildings. Any building that was standing could be a camp, so people moved into factories, churches, schools, and hotels.

The camp that I went to first was a brick factory. There were about 350 people living in this brick factory; three of them were men ”the rest were women and children. These women were all waiting and hoping and praying that the men in their family were still alive. I went to the camp the very first day, and I saw hundreds of children outside, just playing, and fighting, and making weapons out of things that you just wouldn't even think you could make weapons out of. I brought a volleyball and I started playing volleyball with the kids, but they kept fighting. I said, "You guys have to stop fighting, or I'm going to take my volleyball and go home." Of course, I said this in English, and, they didn't speak English, so I don't know if they really understood what I said. Then, we played a little bit more and they would fight again, and I would say, "You've got to stop fighting, or I'm going to go home." We did this about nine times, and after about an hour-and-a-half I said, "Ok, that's enough for today. I'm going to take my ball and go home, and hopefully tomorrow we'll do better." I started leaving, and as I was leaving, a woman ran out of one of the rooms in the camp and grabbed my hand. And she started leading me around and taking me around on a tour of the camp ”I think”because I didn't understand what she was saying to me. She showed me a big garbage pile, and she showed me their outdoor toilets, their one spigot of water for 350 people, and then she took me back to her room. And inside this room all the women of the camp had gathered, watching this strange American lady that was out there playing with their kids, and they wanted to meet me. And there was a seventeen-year-old girl there who spoke some English and she translated for me and told me about their lives. And as I got to know these women, I noticed there were a lot of these seventeen-year-old women there with them, and there were a lot of groups doing programs for the young children and for the boys, but there was nobody doing anything for these young girls”they were sort of invisible.

The first class that I started doing was for teenage girls. It was an amazing experience. It was so much fun. I would go to the camp every day, play sports with the kids, and then go and teach these teenage girls. Then the younger girls would start going with me, and asking me if I could do a class for them. I started giving a class for the younger girls. This class was going really well for the younger girls also, but now every time I went to the class, the boys would come up to me and say, "Lizza! Lizza! Musika! Musika!" And I said, "No way! I'm not going to do anything where I expect you to sit down and actually listen to me talk. We can't even play for ten minutes without you fighting." And they would say, "No! We'll be good! We'll be good!"

Then, one day, when I went to the camp, they did this [mimicking plucking tears from their eyes and dropping them into their hands] and this meant that they were collecting tears to give to me. When they did that, I said "Ok, I will teach you a music class if you would promise that you won't fight, that you won't talk when I'm talking, and you will practice." And these boys ended up being the best class that I have ever taught in my entire live”they were amazing. If one of these boys started to talk, the other boys would jump on them before he could even get a sentence out of his mouth. And if I was anywhere in town and I heard a harmonica, I'd turn around and it was always one of those boys. They kept those harmonicas everywhere they went.

This camp, this place that had been so full of sadness, became this place that was full of so much life. It wasn't necessarily beautiful, but it was full of life. It took about forty minutes to walk to the camp. On the last ten minutes of that walk, all you could hear were these instruments”it was amazing.

The kids that weren't living in these camps”the kids that were living in their homes or in a tent in their backyard while they were trying to rebuild their home”they didn't really have any place to go. So they all gathered at this one school that hadn't been destroyed in our city. And these kids were just sitting around, smoking, fighting”there were thousands of them. And "Save the Children" had started a volleyball program downstairs, so I went to the children and asked, "Would you like to have a music class?"

The first day, I had about nine kids in the class; that was a Monday. By Friday, I had over ninety children in that class. I ended up staying for six weeks, and by the end of the six weeks I was teaching six days a week, five classes a day in the school, six days a week, four classes a day in the camp, and everyday more children came into these programs. I gave away all of the instruments that I had bought and they still kept coming. Parents would come to me and say, "Please, let my child into the class," and so we just kept letting more and more children into these classes”it was amazing.

Then, I had to leave. I had to go home. I had seen these kids fight, I had seen children attack adults, I'd seen children play executioner, but I had never seen them cry until I told them it was time for me to leave. And when I said I had to leave they said, "No, Liz, you can't go. There is no one else here that is doing anything like this. We have people and organizations that are rebuilding our homes, that are giving us food, and we're so grateful for that, but this is the only thing that is feeding us inside. You can't take that away from us." I said, "Ok, I don't know how I am going to do this, but I promise you I will come back."

I left Kosovo, went back to Los Angeles, and was giving a fireside. At the end of the fireside, I said, "I have got to get back to Kosovo, but I don't know how I'm going to do it." A woman approached me afterwards and said, "If you would like to start a non-profit foundation, I'll be your accountant." And someone else said, "I'll be the lawyer." So they went off and did the paperwork and formed the Shropshire Music Foundation, and we've been around ever since.

A group of young women came to the Jordan River Utah Temple to do baptisms for the dead. As they were waiting, their leader started thinking. That day they were doing baptisms by proxy for people who could not do them for themselves. She starting thinking about a Laurel in her ward who, because of a terrible traffic accident, was not able to earn her Young Womanhood medallion for herself.
Could they all help? Could they do something like Personal Progress by proxy?
The leader, Suzanne Rentmeister, and the Young Women of the Prairie 13th Ward in the West Jordan Utah Prairie Stake, made a plan. First they went to their bishop and stake president. After receiving an enthusiastic OK, they felt they needed to talk to Laura White, the Laurel who would be the one to receive their gift of service. Even though Laura cannot speak, her bouyant smile answered louder than words that she loved the idea. The other girls in Young Women were asked if they wanted to participate but were told they didn’t need to if they were too busy or did not feel the desire. Every girl and every leader wanted to be involved.
The Young Women leaders created a chart with all the value experiences and projects on it. Then they held something like an auction. Girls could pick which value experiences and projects they wanted to do.
“Who wants Good Works #7? Who will take Divine Nature #1?” The chart filled up as fast as they could write. Taylor Ligman, 13, remembers that Sunday. “Our leaders pulled out this chart. It was like names were everywhere. I signed up for four of the experiences.”
Before things got going in high gear, they all agreed on three rules: (1) The girls could not do double duty; (2) working on the experiences they chose could not count towards fulfilling their own Personal Progress—they had to sacrifice their time; and (3) they had to keep it a secret from Laura’s parents. Laura’s younger sister, Amy, a Beehive, agreed that doing the project as a surprise for her parents was a fun idea.
“We were really excited,” said Bailee Bloomquist, 14. “I haven’t had a lot of opportunities to do much service. This was a cool experience. I had to spend 10 hours on a talent. I practiced a piece on the piano to play for the program when Laura would receive her medallion.”
Alexa Pengue, 14, said, “I chose to focus on living righteously following For the Strength of Youth for three weeks. I just wanted to keep going.” Alexa will get the chance because she did this experience for Laura and has yet to do it for her own Personal Progress.
“It feels good to do this for Laura,” said Arienna White, 13. “It makes you feel good that you’re helping someone who couldn’t do it for herself.”
“It doesn’t seem fair that we can just pass things off and get it done and Laura can’t,” said Braygan Berrett, 15. “I thought our Young Women president was totally looking out for her. The only way she could earn it was through us.”
Actually Laura was able to do one Personal Progress experience for herself. She was able to participate in family home evening and family scripture reading. Her leaders were thrilled to sign that off for her.
When the girls all volunteered to help and as they were dividing up the experiences, Sister Rentmeister said, “Laura was with us in that meeting, and she was just beaming. She lit up.”
This experience has brought all sorts of blessings to these Young Women. For example, all the other Laurels in the class wanted to receive their medallions at the same time as Laura, so they went to work and finished the requirements for their medallions.
The Mia Maids reported having some of their most spiritual experiences working on the experiences they volunteered to complete for Laura.
And the Beehive leader reports that the Beehives have been “just crazy” about service ever since. They want to do something every week—pull weeds, help with the food drive, anything anyone needs done.
On the ward’s Night of Excellence, Laura and Amy’s parents wondered why their six sons with daughters-in-law and grandchildren had traveled into town for the program. When Laura was wheeled to the front and lined up with those who were to receive their medallions, everyone in the room understood. It was a visible lesson of what it means to do something by proxy, doing something for someone who cannot do it for themselves.

Silverio was standing in the toy aisle when his Mom called him. “Sí, mamá?” He walked over to her.
“Could you please take this eye shadow to the cashier and ask how much it costs? And ask if it comes in green, please,” she said in Spanish.
“Oh, sure.” Silverio picked up the eye shadow, looked at it for a second, and then hid it in his hand. He didn’t want to be seen carrying makeup around the store.
Even though his family had been in the United States for most of Silverio’s life, Mom still had a hard time with English. She tried to learn, but sometimes the words wouldn’t come out. Sometimes Silverio wished he didn’t have to help her.
When Silverio reached the cashier, he held out the eye shadow. “Excuse me, ma’am, how much is this?” he mumbled.
The cashier stared down at him. “You want to buy eye shadow?”
Silverio pointed to his mom standing a few feet away and said quickly, “It’s for my mom.”
The cashier scanned the price. “Six dollars,” she said.
“Thanks. And … does it come in green?” Silverio felt his face turn red.
While the cashier typed into her computer, Silverio looked to check if anyone was watching him. The coast was clear. “Nope, only blue and purple.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
Silverio hurried back to Mom and dropped the eye shadow in the cart without looking at her. “Séis dólares, y no la tienen en verde.”
“Gracias, Silverio. Is everything OK?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. No pasa nada. I’m fine.”
When they got home, Silverio went right to his room and sat on his bed. Interpreting for Mom was so embarrassing! Maybe he should tell Mom he wouldn’t do it anymore. He slumped down on his bed and sighed. No, he couldn’t do that to her. She worked so hard, and he didn’t want to let her down.
“Silverio, ven aquí por favor,” Mom called.
“Coming,” he called back.
Mom was at the table looking at old pictures of her family. “I just wanted to tell you thank you,” she said in Spanish. “I’m really grateful you interpret for me. I know it’s not easy, and might be embarrassing, but it means a lot to me.”
Silverio stared at the pattern on the rug. “Well … you do a lot for me, and I’m grateful too. You’re my mom, and I love you.” He gave a small smile.
Mom smiled back. “I love you too,” she said. “Let me share with you a scripture I like to read when I’m worried about what other people are thinking of me.”
She pulled their Santa Biblia from the shelf, turned to Colossians 3:23–24, and read from it. “And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men; knowing that of the Lord ye shall receive the reward of the inheritance: for ye serve the Lord Christ.”
Silverio looked at the Bible and reread the words. “So whenever I help people, I’m serving Christ?”
Mom smiled. “Exacto!”

Like her mom, Rosalinda, Ayanda is one who has built her foundation upon Jesus Christ. She moved from Harare, Zimbabwe, to Rexburg, Idaho, in 2010 to be a student at BYU-Idaho, where I met her.

Before leaving Zimbabwe, Ayanda didn’t have the opportunity to attend the temple. But now, here in Rexburg, she was within walking distance of a temple. Here, she was getting to see the temple every single day. Being fairly new in the gospel, this was fun and exciting for her because of how different and new it was.

Eventually, she was able to receive her limited-use recommend and start attending the temple to do baptisms for the dead. Then, in 2015, Ayanda was able to go through the Bountiful Utah Temple and receive her temple endowment. The temple is a part of who Ayanda is.

During the COVID-19 pandemic, Ayanda learned just how much the temple meant to her when she wasn’t able to attend. So, when the temples opened again, she started going weekly and loved it so much!

Then in October 2022, President Nelson said, “I promise that increased time in the temple will bless your life in ways nothing else can.”[6]

So, Ayanda started thinking about ways she could spend more time in the temple. She talked with her bishop about being a temple worker, and her name was recommended to her stake president. Now she is serving as an ordinance worker in the Jordan River Utah Temple. She serves on Thursday evenings and Saturday mornings and attends weekly on Tuesdays. Ayanda said, “Being in the house of the Lord has been such a blessing. There is so much joy, there is protection, there is so much learning—it is all amazing!” Ayanda loves going to the temple! Our family has been blessed to learn from the example of Ayanda. Since meeting her in 2013, we have become lifelong friends.

Soweto seminary students know the Lord helps them through the scriptures. Lucky Ndhiela knows his faith spared him a severe beating.
“One day our school teacher was very angry with our class,” says Lucky. “He said he had explained a science principle to us, and the other students said he had not. A still, small voice whispered in my ear, ‘You know it, Lucky—the teacher did teach us that.’
“So I raised my hand and said in front of the whole class, ‘You did teach us that.’ I felt so happy to say it.
“But the whole class shouted, ‘He did NOT!’ The teacher became very angry and started hitting them all, one by one. I sat near the back of the class, and while he was busy punishing the students in front, I bowed my head and began to pray.
“I remembered my scripture mastery, Proverbs 3:5–6 [Prov. 3:5–6], and said to myself, ‘Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.
“When the teacher came to my desk, his voice changed. His face changed. He said, ‘Lucky is praying to his God. I forgive him.’ He did not punish me, nor any others that day. That is how I know it is important to apply the scriptures in my life. My prayer was answered!”

When our son Eli was in fourth grade, his class set up a mock government where he was elected by his peers to serve as class judge. One day a sitting judge from the Utah 2nd District Court visited, put his official robes on Eli, and then administered an oath of office for their class. This ignited in Eli’s young, impressionable soul a passion for studying law and the Lawgiver Himself, Jesus Christ.
After years of diligent effort, Eli received an invitation for an interview with one of his top choices for law school. He pronounced, “… The final question was, ‘Where do you derive your moral compass?’ … I stated if all of humanity abided by the teachings of Jesus Christ in the Sermon on the Mount, the world would be a better, more peaceful place.” Then the interview ended, and he thought to himself, “There go my childhood dreams. No one in secular academia wants to hear about Jesus Christ.”
Two weeks later, Eli was admitted with a scholarship. Before committing, we visited the campus. … Remarkably, as we walked through the magnificent library and stately corridors, we found on banners and carved in stone attributes from the Sermon on the Mount.
The Sermon on the Mount is decisively the most noteworthy discourse ever delivered, pioneering in its teachings. No other sermon can help us better understand the character of Jesus Christ, His divine attributes, and our ultimate purpose to become like Him. …
We need to infuse the Light of Jesus Christ into every corner of our lives. …

Eun-Suk was raised in circumstances that required both her parents to work and be out of the home for most of her younger years. She remembers a painful experience as a young girl. Following her school performances, it was the custom for parents to present the children with flowers. Her parents never attended any of her performances.

My parents had never been there, so it was the worst in my experience. All the families came, and they gave flowers, but no one ever gave me flowers. It was the most painful experience. I don’t want my children to have that kind of experience.

So where did Eun-Suk learn to become such an outstanding women? Where did she learn, as she puts it, her “best lessons”?

I learned a lot of things from family and school, but learned the best things from Church. I honestly say that—in the Church.

The more I read on a regular basis, the more I found myself turning to the scriptures in times of need or distress. On one occasion, I became extremely angry with someone who had broken an important promise to me. For days I was resentful and considered retaliation. I was miserable. I knew that it was wrong not to forgive, but I did not know how to overcome my feelings. Finally, in anguish, I picked up the Book of Mormon. Without any real intention of reading, I let the pages fall open. The words of the Lord from Mormon 3:15 seemed to jump out at me: “Vengeance is mine.”
In an instant, everything was brought into eternal perspective. I was chastened and humbled, realizing that my attitude was wrong. At the same time, this scripture brought great relief. The Lord was aware of my feelings! He cared. How much easier it was, then, to pray and to forget my bad feelings.

When I came home from my mission, I began to study and to help others in my branch during the Sunday School lesson and and to help those preparing to go on a mission. My first calling after my mission was as the Sunday School president. I enjoyed this calling because I was able to study as I did when I was on my mission, applying the lessons to myself as I taught every Sunday.
I learned a lot from my branch members, and seeing them every Sunday smiling and looking good was my desire and my prayer to God, because I saw them as my responsibility, to minister and always remember them in my prayers as I was doing to my investigators on my mission. Honestly doing so, I came to realize that Heavenly Father has been with me every step of the way to magnify my calling as a Sunday School president.

There is another story that means a lot to me. We had a woman from Mexico who has worked for us for 12 years. She heard we were going to Mexico City to deliver wheelchairs. She informed us that she had a nephew in Mexico City whose name was Angel. He had a terminal disease. He had first lost his eyesight and had now lost his mobility. She asked if we could give him a wheelchair so he could be mobile during the limited time he had to live. I said yes and told her to have his parents come to our distribution. His parents found us and were crying. They said that Angel had received his wheelchair and wanted to thank me. They brought him in his wheelchair, and I spoke to him so he would know where I was. He then took my hands and looked up with his blind eyes into my eyes and said, “I’ll see you in heaven.” I was not able to even answer him.

The newly converted women in the family did their best to learn the ways of gospel living. A year after baptism, Aunt Kee Hong and my mom learned about the patriarchal blessing and decided to receive it. With their permission, I share that both their blessings talk about sharing the gospel with relatives. My aunt’s blessing particularly mentions doing genealogy work. My aunt hated genealogy work because of my grandpa. Grandpa devoted many years of his life to gathering information and publishing genealogy books with his own money, but this had a negative impact on his children. That was why seeing something about genealogy in Aunt Kee Hong’s patriarchal blessing was displeasure. She wanted to ignore it.

However, she decided to do something about the nagging feeling instead of ignoring it. 13 days after receiving the blessing, she decided to go on a genealogy trip for a week in August 1975. The night before she left, my Catholic great-grandma appeared in my mom’s dream. She was dressed in white clothes and told my mom she was going to her grave site, looking very happy.

My aunt saw many miracles during the trip. For example, she had to go to an island, Ulleungdo, to see relatives there. It was an 11-hour boat ride, and she always had seasickness on a boat, so she was very worried. 30 minutes into the ride, she was so miserable. Then she passed out. She passed out for 11 hours. The sound of the arrival horn woke her up. On the way back, she thought she would get smart and take motion sickness medicine. As soon as she boarded, she took the medicine. If you know motion sickness medicine, she should have taken it 30 minutes before boarding, not when she boarded. Learning that she would soon feel very miserable, she got worried. Then, a man approached her and led her to a room with bunk beds. Her ticket did not include a bed. However, the man told her she could use any bed she wanted and there was no need to pay. She picked one bed, and soon passed out for another 11 hours. It was the mercy of God in a mysterious way that she passed out and had a peaceful journey.

She didn’t have the address or telephone numbers of people she wanted to see. However, during the trip, she got off the bus exactly where she needed to, although there was no bus stop, and she turned into the exact street she needed to without having to walk too far during the hottest time in Korea. She found houses without having a street name or house number. Before leaving on the trip, my aunt made a list of people to see and when to see them. She didn’t tell any of them she was coming to see them, but she saw everybody she planned to see. During the trip, she gathered all the information she needed, even the names of people who died as infants. She then submitted those names to the Church headquarters for temple ordinances to be performed.

Three years later, in 1978, one night, my great-grandma appeared in my mom’s dream again. This time, she kept saying, “Thank you, thank you.” The next day, my mom received a fat envelope from Salt Lake City notifying her that the temple work for all the names Aunt Kee Hong submitted was finished, including my great-grandma’s.

I attended a touching and very heartwarming event recently on a trip to Tonga. We held a birthday celebration honoring the first anniversary of the dedication of that temple. I was so impressed with the people who gathered that morning as we sang a hymn and offered a prayer of thanksgiving to the Lord for having a temple in their land. I asked the temple president how the membership had responded to this new blessing in their midst. The statistics he furnished were shocking. Each temple recommend holder in Tonga had attended an average of twenty temple sessions during the first year of its operation.

As you know, Tonga is made up of a group of small islands. Some Saints had literally paddled over from their island to come and stay two and even three weeks, sleeping on straw mats on a cement floor and cooking over an open fire to provide their nourishment while they fulfilled their obligation in the temple.

One of the most positive changes people see is the love and respect members of the Church have for one another. In New Caledonia’s sometimes uneasy mix of cultures, Church members’ example of unity shines. Brother Gaya tells of a time in 1984 and 1985 when the political climate in New Caledonia became tense: “New Caledonia’s native population, the Kanaks, or at least the political party representing them, were pressing for independence. The French wanted to remain citizens of France. So we had two political parties fighting each other.” The fighting sometimes became violent.
“In 1986 some people from the French government visited us and asked what was the Church’s position—‘Does the Church want the country to have its independence, or does it want the country to remain a territory of France?’ I said, ‘We leave political discussion out of our meetings. What we want is to be near the Lord. We want to keep His commandments—to love Him and to love our neighbor. We are not just French or Polynesian or Melanesian. We are first and foremost members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.’
“I think there was only one church in the whole country in which all the communities could worship together at the same time and not have problems, and that was the LDS Church. When a European became the leader, the Polynesians and Melanesians followed him. When a Melanesian became the leader, everyone followed him.”

By contrast, we know a family who took a different approach. The parents were inspired by J. C. Penney’s experience where his father told him when he turned eight years old that he was on his own financially. They came up with their own version: as their children graduated from high school, they were on their own financially—for further education (college, graduate school) and for their financial maintenance (truly self-reliant) (see D&C 83:4). Happily, the children reacted wisely. All of them are college graduates, and several also completed graduate school—all on their own. It wasn’t easy, but they did it. They did it with hard work and faith.

During a cold November in 1838, thousands of Missouri militia surrounded the Saints at Far West, Missouri. The governor of the State of Missouri had declared that, the Mormons "must be exterminated or driven from the state."[2] Frenzied by hatred, they drove hundreds of men, women, and children from their homes.

Heber C. Kimball was an eye-witness to this persecution. "They expected to see us cast down and sorrowful," he writes, "but I testify as an eye-witness that the brethren rejoiced and praised the Lord and kicked up their heels, and thanked God, taking joyfully the despoiling of their goods."[3]

One Missourian took pity on the suffering of the Saints and wrote a letter to the state legislature. It, "makes humanity shudder," he wrote, "and the cold chills run over any man, not entirely destitute of the feelings of humanity. These demons are now constantly strolling up and down Caldwell County . . . in any way and every way plundering the poor [Mormons] of all the means of subsistence . . . leaving them in a starving and naked condition."[4]

The prophet, along with several other key brethren in the Church were charged with various crimes. Many were killed or died as a result of the hardships they were made to bear. More had been robbed of their property and forced to flee into the cold of winter for their lives.

General John B. Clark, the man to whom the governor had entrusted to rid the state of the Mormons, had been told that it should be completely left to his discretion whether he killed all of them or not. In his own words, General Clark told the Saints at Far West, "You need not expect any mercy, but extermination, for I am determined the Governor's order shall be executed. As for your leaders," he continued, "do not once think--do not imagine for a moment--do not let it enter your mind that they will be delivered, or that you will see their faces again, for their fate is fixed--their die is cast--their doom is sealed."[5]

The Saints had no choice but to leave their homes and flee. They took their poor and their sick with them resolving to, "never desert [those] who are worthy, till they shall be out of the reach of the exterminating order ...."[6]

They eventually found refuge one hundred and fifty miles to the east of Far West. The good people of Quincy, Illinois gave aid to them and condemned the barbaric treatment they had been subjected to. "The governor of Missouri," they resolved in a meeting of the Democratic Association of Quincy, "[had] brought a lasting disgrace upon the state over which he presides."[7]

Meanwhile, with the aid of his captors, the Prophet Joseph Smith escaped Liberty Jail and, in the Spring of 1839, arrived in western Illinois. There, at a bend in the Mississippi river, the Prophet looked over a section of land that had been offered to him as a place for the Saints to call home. Because of the dampness and the mosquitoes that infested the area, few wanted to live there. Many became sick with malaria. Some had died.

But mosquitoes weren't the only challenge for those who lived there. One early visitor to the city wrote, "Oh, the mud! It seems bottomless. The soil is a black, sticky loam, and when your foot is once in, it is almost impossible to get it out."[8]

It was a place no one else would covet. The prophet himself said that the city, "was so unhealthful, very few could live there; but believing that it might become a healthful place by the blessing of heaven to the Saints, and no more eligible place presenting itself, I considered it wisdom to make an attempt to build up a city."[9]

The Prophet could see through the swamp, sickness, and obscurity. He could see what the industry of the Saints and the blessings of heaven could make of this place. The swamp could be drained and the city could become a healthy place. This could become a place of beauty and a place of refuge.

Not long after designating the area as the gathering place, Joseph renamed the city calling it Nauvoo. It was a Hebrew word that brought with it the meaning of, "a beautiful situation," and "the idea of rest."[10]

And the Saints arrived, many of them penniless, sick, and poor but armed with an unshaken and mighty faith in the Lord. Through their untiring efforts, they drained the swamp and began to build. Eventually, a city began to rise. And it was beautiful.

And it was a place of rest for the weary Saints of God who had sacrificed so much for their convictions.

And it was a place blessed of the Father and saturated with manifestations of the Holy Spirit.

Soon, a university was formed and literature, languages, math, and sciences were taught. The state of Illinois granted Nauvoo it's own city charter and granted permission for it to create it's own militia, later known as the Nauvoo Legion.

Wards and stakes were organized, and the first Saints of the Restoration began to rear up a city that gave witness to their faith, commitment, and industry.

In a special epistle to the Saints abroad, The First Presidency wrote that they, "soon expect to see the thousands of Israel flocking to this region in obedience to the heavenly command."[11] And the Saints did come. By the twos and by the twenties. And in a very little time, this swampy village that had only recently consisted of a couple of dozen homes was transformed into a bustling city of 11,000 rivaling Chicago itself.

I was baptized when I was eight and attended Primary, but when I became a teenager I fell away from Church activity. At first, I went to a few Mutual activities, but by the time I graduated from high school, I was completely inactive.
During high school, I liked to go to a nearby field after school, lie in the tall grass while watching the clouds go by, and wish to be happy. I was sad because my parents were separated. I didn’t feel peace or happiness a lot of the time, and I didn’t know why. I was a cheerleader, I participated in school government, and I had plenty of friends, but something was missing in my life.
Two years after high school I went on a backpacking trip with friends. Everyone went to sleep early, but I stayed up by the campfire. As I was looking up into the heavens, the thought came to my mind to say a prayer. I looked up and asked, “Heavenly Father, are you really there? And if you are, will you help me to be happy?” It felt as if a huge blanket was wrapped around my shoulders. I felt warm, as though everything would be OK.
A few weeks later, my mom and I went for a vacation to Idaho with her sister. A couple of my cousins invited me to a youth dance at the church, and I had a great time. I danced with a young man who had received a mission call to Korea. He asked if he could write to me, and I agreed.
In his first letter, this young man shared missionary experiences with me and bore his testimony of the gospel. I don’t know whether I was swept off my feet by him or the Spirit. But after all those years of inactivity, I decided to go back to church and check things out.
I roped one of my older brothers into going with me so I wouldn’t have to sit alone. I don’t remember the meeting at all. I just remember thinking, “Everybody must be looking at me and saying, ‘Look, Gretchen is at church. I wonder why.’ ” I was so uncomfortable by the end of the meeting that I planned a quick escape as soon as the closing prayer ended.
That’s when something happened that changed my life forever. Four girls I remembered from Primary ran up and surrounded me. They were so happy to see me at church, and I felt their sincerity. They asked if I would come back later that night to a youth fireside. I agreed and then left for home.
I talked my brother into going with me again. At the fireside, a man stood to speak and said he felt impressed not to give his prepared talk but to share his testimony and then let us do the same. All of a sudden, my whole being felt on fire. I don’t know how long it took me to get up, but I stood and bore my testimony that now I knew why I had been feeling unhappy and lost. It was the gospel that was missing in my life. I knew I needed to make some changes.
Now, almost 30 years later, I am still grateful to those young women who didn’t let me escape the chapel that day. I later met and married a returned missionary in the Idaho Falls Temple. We have four children, three of whom have married in the temple. Our oldest son served a mission, and our last is now planning to go on his. I have served in the Young Women program of the Church. Each time I teach a lesson on service, I share my life-changing experience in hopes that the same will be done for others as was done for me.
I believe my simple prayer was answered on that mountaintop. Heavenly Father does hear and answer our prayers. And my prayer was answered because four girls chose the right. They put their arms around a lost soul and invited her back. There are Gretchens out there who need to be brought back. You never know whose life can and will be changed forever if you will just reach out and be a loving, caring friend.

Almost all of us have seen a battlefield portrayed in a film or read the description in a story. Over the din of explosions and the shouts of soldiers, there comes a cry, “Man down!”

When that cry sounds, faithful fellow soldiers will move toward the sound. Another soldier or a medic will ignore danger and move to the injured comrade. And the man down will know that help will come. Whatever the risk, someone will run low or crawl to get there in time to protect and give aid. That is true in every band of men joined in a difficult and dangerous mission which they are determined to fulfill at any sacrifice. The histories of such groups are full of stories of those loyal men who were determined that no man would be left behind.
Here is one instance from an official account. During fighting in Somalia in October of 1993, two United States Army Rangers in a helicopter during the firefight learned that two other helicopters near them had fallen to the earth. The two rangers, in their relative safety aloft, learned by radio that no ground forces were available to rescue one of the downed aircrews. Growing numbers of the enemy were closing in on the crash site.
The two men watching from above volunteered to go down to the ground (the words they used on the radio were to “be inserted”) to protect their critically wounded comrades. Their request was denied because the situation was so dangerous. They asked a second time. Permission was again denied. Only after their third request were they put down on the ground.
Armed only with their personal weapons, they fought their way to the crashed helicopter and the injured fliers. They moved through intense small arms fire as enemies converged on the crash site. They pulled the wounded from the wreckage. They put themselves in a perimeter around the wounded, placing themselves in the most dangerous positions. They protected their comrades until their ammunition was depleted and they were fatally wounded. Their bravery and their sacrifice saved the life of a pilot who would have been lost.
They were each awarded posthumously the Medal of Honor, their nation’s highest recognition for bravery in the face of an armed enemy. The citation reads that what they did was “above and beyond the call of duty.”
But I wonder if they saw it that way as they moved to the downed airmen. Out of loyalty they felt a duty to stand by their fellow soldiers, whatever the cost. The courage to act and their selfless service came from feeling that they were responsible for the lives, the happiness, and the safety of comrades.
Such a feeling of responsibility for others is at the heart of faithful priesthood service. Our comrades are being wounded in the spiritual conflict around us. So are the people we are called to serve and protect from harm. Spiritual wounds are not easily visible, except with inspired eyes. But bishops, branch presidents, and mission presidents sitting before fellow disciples of the Savior can see the wounded and the wounds.
It has happened for years and across the earth. I remember as a bishop looking out at the face and the posture of a young man of the priesthood and having the thought come to my mind so clearly that it seemed audible: “I need to see him—and soon. Something is happening. He needs help.”
I would never put off such an impression because I had learned that the wounds of sin are often not felt at first by the one being hurt. Satan seems sometimes to inject something to deaden the spiritual pain while inflicting the wound. Unless something happens soon to begin repentance, the wound can worsen and widen.
Consequently, as a priesthood holder responsible for the spiritual survival of some of Heavenly Father’s children, you will then move to help without waiting for a cry, “Man down!” Even a best friend or other leaders or parents may not see what you have seen.
You may have been the only one to sense by inspiration the warning cry. The others may feel, as you will be tempted to think, “Maybe the trouble I thought I saw is just my imagination. What right do I have to judge another? It’s not my responsibility. I’ll leave it alone until he asks for help.”
Only an authorized judge in Israel is given the power and the responsibility to verify that there is a serious wound, to explore it, and then, under inspiration from God, to prescribe the necessary treatment for healing to begin. Yet you are under covenant to go to a spiritually wounded child of God. You are responsible to be brave enough and bold enough not to turn away.
I need to explain, as best I can, at least two things. First, why do you have a responsibility to move to help your wounded friend? And, second, how do you meet that responsibility?
First, you are under covenant, as has been made clear to you, that when you accepted the trust from God to receive the priesthood, you accepted a responsibility for whatever you might do or fail to do for the salvation of others, however difficult and dangerous that might appear to be for you.
There are countless examples of priesthood holders who shouldered that grave responsibility as you and I must. This is how Jacob in the Book of Mormon described his sacred trust when he moved in difficult circumstances to give aid: “Now, my beloved brethren, I, Jacob, according to the responsibility which I am under to God, to magnify mine office with soberness, and that I might rid my garments of your sins, I come up into the temple this day that I might declare unto you the word of God.”
Now, you might object that Jacob was a prophet and you are not. But your office, whatever it is in the priesthood, brings with it an obligation to “lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees” of those around you. You are the Lord’s servant covenanted to do for others, as best you can, what He would do.
Your great opportunity and your responsibility are described in Ecclesiastes:
“Two are better than one; because they have a good reward for their labour.
“For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.”
From that, you will understand the true and sobering words from Joseph Smith: “None but fools will trifle with the souls of men.” As Jacob believed, the woe of any fallen man or woman he could have helped and did not would become his own sorrow. Your happiness and that of those you are called to serve as a priesthood holder are bound together.
Now we come to the question of how best to help those you are called to serve and rescue. That will depend on your capacities and on the nature of your priesthood relationship to the person who is in spiritual peril. Let me give three cases which may be your opportunity at times in your priesthood service.
Let’s start when you are an inexperienced junior companion, a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood assigned with a seasoned companion to visit a young family. Before preparing for the visit, you will pray for strength and inspiration to see their needs and know what help you could give. If you can, you will have that prayer with your companion, naming those you will visit. As you pray, your heart will be drawn out to them personally and to God. You and your companion will agree on what you hope to accomplish. You will work out a plan for what you will do.
Whatever the plan, you will watch and listen with great intensity and humility during the visit. You are young and inexperienced. But the Lord knows their spiritual state and their needs perfectly. He loves them. And because you know He sends you to act for Him, you can have faith that you can sense their needs and what you can do to meet your charge to help. It will come as you visit face-to-face in their home. That is why you have this priesthood charge in the Doctrine and Covenants: “Visit the house of each member, and exhort them to pray vocally and in secret and attend to all family duties.”
And then you have an added charge which takes even greater discernment:
“The teacher’s duty is to watch over the church always, and be with and strengthen them;
“And see that there is no iniquity in the church, neither hardness with each other, neither lying, backbiting, nor evil speaking;
“And see that the church meet together often, and also see that all the members do their duty.”
You and your companion will rarely receive inspiration to know the details of the degree to which they are meeting that standard. But I can promise you from experience that you will be given the gift to know what is well with them. And from that you will be able to encourage them. There is another promise I can make: you and your companion will be inspired to know what changes they could make to begin the spiritual healing they need. The words of what you are charged to have happen in their lives will almost certainly contain some of the most important changes the Lord would have them make.
If your companion feels an impression to urge change, watch what he does. You will likely be surprised at the way the Spirit guides him to speak. There will be the sound of love in his voice. He will find a way to tie the needed change with a blessing that will follow. If it is the father or mother who needs to make a change, he may show how it would lead to happiness for the children. He will describe the change as a move away from unhappiness to a better and safer place.
Your contribution during the visit may seem to you small, but it can be more powerful than you may think possible. You will show by your face and manner that you care for the people. They will see that your love for them and the Lord makes you unafraid. And you will be bold enough to bear your testimony to truth. Your humble, simple, and perhaps brief testimony may touch the heart of a person more easily than that of your more experienced companion. I have seen it happen.
Whatever part you play in that priesthood visit, your desire to go to the people for the Lord to help them will bring at least two blessings. First, you will feel the love of God for the people you visit. And, second, you will feel the Savior’s gratitude for your desire to give the help the Savior knew they needed.
He sent you to them because He trusted that you would go feeling responsible to urge them toward Him and toward happiness.
As you grow a little older, there is another opportunity which will come to you in priesthood service. You will come to know your fellow quorum members well. You may have played basketball or football or shared some youth activities and service projects. With some you will have become close friends.
You will have come to recognize when they are happy and when they are sad. Neither of you may be in a position of authority in the quorum. But you will feel responsible for your fellow member in the priesthood. He may confide in you that he is beginning to break a commandment which you know will do him spiritual harm. He may ask for advice because he trusts you.
I can tell you from experience that if you succeed in influencing him away from a dangerous path, you will never forget the joy which came from being his true friend. If you do not succeed, I promise that when his grief and sadness come, as they will, you will feel his pain as if it were your own. Yet if you tried to help, you will still be his friend. And, in fact, for years he may talk with you about what good things there might have been and how grateful he is that you cared enough to try. You will comfort him then and invite him again, as you did in your youth, to come back to the happiness which the Atonement still makes possible for him.
Now, later in your life you will be a father—a priesthood father. What you have learned in your priesthood service as you helped others away from sadness and toward happiness will give you the power you will need and want. Years of being responsible for the souls of men will prepare you for helping and protecting your family, whom you will love more than you can imagine in your youth. You will know how to lead them with priesthood power to safety.
My prayer is that you will have joy in your priesthood service throughout your life and forever. I pray that you will develop the bravery and love for Heavenly Father’s children that led the sons of Mosiah to plead for the chance to face death and danger to take the gospel to a hardened people. Their desire and their bravery came from feeling responsible for the eternal happiness of strangers in danger of eternal misery.
May we have a part of the desire which Jehovah had, in the world before this one, when He asked to come down from the realms of glory to serve us and give His life for us. He asked His Father, “Send me.”
I testify that you were called of God and you are sent to serve His children. He wants that no one be left behind. President Monson holds the keys of the priesthood in all the earth. God will give you inspiration and strength to meet your charge to help His children find their way to the happiness made possible by the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I so testify to you in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

The prophet Brigham Young desired that his daughters reflect their true identity. Visualize this setting with me for a moment. It is 1869, and the prophet Brigham Young became concerned about his daughters and their somewhat worldly interests and actions. He was worried about the general trend toward materialism, commercialism, and sophistication among the younger Church members, and his daughters seemed to reflect that trend. He assembled his children in the Lion House parlor for family prayer. He looked into the faces of his lovely daughters and said,
All Israel are looking to my family and watching the example set by my . . . children. For this reason I desire to organize my own family first into a society for the promotion of habits of order, thrift, industry, and charity; and, above all things, I desire them to retrench from their extravagance in dress. . . .
. . . I want you to . . . retrench . . . in your speech, wherein you have been guilty of silly . . . speeches and light-mindedness of thought. Retrench in everything that is bad and worthless, and improve in everything that is good and beautiful. [Susa Young Gates, History of the Young Ladies’ Mutual Improvement Association of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Salt Lake City: Deseret News, 1911), 8–10]