Gospel Story Finder

Early the next morning we had one of the loveliest experiences of our lives, as we visited the Church School of Western Samoa. As we entered the gymnasium, the largest building on the campus, we saw seventeen hundred children sitting cross-legged on the gymnasium floor, crowded in as tightly as little sardines in a can. They ranged from small four- and five-year-old kindergarten children in the front to teenaged high-school youngsters in the back of the hall. What a beautiful, thrilling sight they were as they sang “I Am a Child of God”! They were all dressed in their school uniforms in colors of blue and gold. With their beautiful dark hair and big brown eyes, they presented a picture of youth and beauty that was breathtaking. The tears came to our eyes quickly and without shame. At the close of my remarks, I announced to the students that in honor of the occasion I was declaring a holiday for the rest of the day. Judging by the sound of the applause, I think I may have become an instant hero—at least for that day. After the brief meeting, we left the hall with the haunting strains of the Samoan farewell song, “Tofa My Faleni,” ringing in our ears and warming our hearts.

For the past three years I have been very active in the different sports and programs in high school. Last year I lettered in swimming, so for Christmas I asked my parents for a letterman’s jacket. They took me and my brother to go pick out the patches we wanted on our jackets to represent our high school years.
While looking at all the patches, I noticed a CTR patch and pointed it out to my mom. She was surprised that there was even that option. I picked out a swimmer, basketball hoop with my number, dance shoes, and the CTR patch, all of these representing my life in high school. The CTR patch would represent the four years of waking up to attend early morning seminary.
As time went on there was not a day when I went without wearing my jacket to school. In seminary, my teacher, Sister Sawtelle, was impressed with it and told me she had never seen a CTR patch out of all the athletic kids to pass through her class with jackets in nine years. As I wore it around campus, my friends stopped me and asked about my different patches. I received many raised eyebrows because I wanted something Church-related on my jacket. I was teased, but there were also good comments.
One friend stopped me on the way to class and asked me the meaning of the three letters. I told her it means “Choose the Right and Return to Christ.” She smiled and replied that she loved the fact that it was reversible and said she was proud of me for standing up for what I believe in.
When speaking with the missionaries about the CTR patch, they asked me about the reactions I had from my peers. I told them about all the questions I had been asked and the different reactions I had received when my friends realized I am a Mormon. They told me not to worry about what people think, because I had provided myself with the best missionary experiences possible.
At lunch it became a common event to have discussions about what my friends had heard about the Church and what was true. Each day there are new questions. Now, one friend is taking the missionary lessons, while another has been reading the Book of Mormon. Another friend asked to come to seminary with me sometime. He even told me that he had noticed how different I acted from our other friends—happy in the morning, helpful to others, didn’t cheat in class on the tests. And most noticeably, he had never heard me cuss.
I realized that no matter what, the way a person acts is always noticed, therefore I was glad to know that by living the way my parents and Church leaders had taught me, I became an example to my friends around me. This CTR patch has caused many changes among my friends, most of which I am grateful for. It has brought my religion and my beliefs to the attention of the people I am with and see every day. It seemed a small thing at the time, but it has truly changed my life for the better.
Many of my friends called me a goody-goody for a long time, but by discussing with me what I believe, they have come to accept it. I love being able to be an example, and now my friends really have come to understand why I live the way I do, which is a very big blessing.

Exemplifying the growth of the Church from within is the family of Wolfgang and Karin Pilz. President Pilz, who now serves as first counselor in the Mannheim Germany Stake in south-central Germany, is a physician and fourth-generation member whose great-grandfather joined the Church in 1894. President and Sister Pilz—both returned missionaries—have five children, and their oldest daughter was recently married in the Frankfurt temple.
President and Sister Pilz, members of the Darmstadt Ward, tell of their daughter’s temple marriage. “We invited many people to a wedding party in the meetinghouse cultural hall,” says Sister Pilz, “and we had about 300 come. Many of them were nonmember visitors.” President Pilz adds, “Even teachers and classmates attended. In my day, they would never have done that; they wouldn’t have entered an LDS Church.” The guests were impressed with the Church, says Sister Pilz. “The teachers that came told other teachers. This is the kind of missionary work we can do now to let our friends and neighbors see what a wonderful community we have within the Church.”

When President George Albert Smith was young, his deceased grandfather George A. Smith appeared to him in a dream and asked, “I would like to know what you have done with my name.” President Smith responded, “I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.”
Each week as we partake of the sacrament, we covenant and promise that we are willing to take upon us the name of Christ, always remember Him, and keep His commandments. If we are willing to do so, we are promised that most wonderful blessing—that His Spirit will always be with us.
Just as President George Albert Smith had to account to his grandfather for what he had done with his name, someday each one of us will have to account to our Savior, Jesus Christ, for what we have done with His name.
The importance of having a good name is spoken of in Proverbs, where we read: “A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold” and “The [name] of the just is blessed.”
As I pondered these scriptures and the importance of having a good name, a flood of memories came into my mind about the good name and legacy my parents left my four brothers, my two sisters, and me. My parents did not have the riches of the world, nor did they have silver or gold. Nine of us lived in a two-bedroom, one-bath home with an enclosed back porch, where my sisters slept. When my parents passed away, my brothers and sisters and I gathered to divide their earthly possessions, which were few in number. My mother left a few dresses, some used furniture, and a few other personal items. My father left some carpenter tools, some old hunting rifles, and little else. The only things of any monetary value were a modest home and a small savings account.
Together we wept openly, giving thanks, knowing they had left us something much more precious than silver or gold. They had given us their love and their time. They had often borne testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel, which we can now read in their precious journals. Not so much by words but more by their example, they had taught us to work hard, to be honest, and to pay a full tithing. They also engendered a desire to further our education, to serve a mission, and most important, to find an eternal companion, be married in the temple, and endure to the end. Truly they left us the legacy of a good name, for which we shall ever be grateful.

I was only 15 when I first met the full-time missionaries—two nice young men with something unusual in their countenances. Although I didn’t remember much of what they said during the first missionary discussion, I couldn’t forget the good feeling I had when I talked with them.
I was president of my church’s local youth group, and I was not interested in changing religions. In fact, when my older brother and sister decided to be baptized, I felt betrayed. Even though I did not approve of what they were doing, I went to their baptismal service to support them. It was hard for me to admit, but at the baptism I felt that good feeling again.
As time passed, I became better and better friends with the missionaries. Finally, I resigned from my position as my church’s youth group president, but I still wasn’t sure I wanted to be baptized.
Then one day one of the elders came to my home with a ward member. I said, “Elder, I would like to work with you sometime.” He replied, “I’m sorry, but you must be a member of the Church before you can be a missionary.”
Several days later I picked up the pamphlets the elders had left at my home. Reading them one by one, I looked up the Bible and Book of Mormon scriptures they referred to. Then, putting Moroni’s promise to the test, I prayed to know if the Book of Mormon was true. The Spirit testified to me that it indeed was true, and six months after meeting the missionaries, I was baptized.
The first thing I did after my baptism was ask the missionaries if I could work with them now. “You must wait until you receive the Aaronic Priesthood,” they replied. Two weeks later I did receive the priesthood. That same day, I went out with the elders. And as I walked along with them, I decided that someday I too would be a full-time missionary.

I had some friends who turned on me between seventh and ninth grade. At first I didn’t realize they were making fun of me, but when I did, I was shocked and couldn’t understand where I’d gone wrong.
I thought that if I did what Christ would do, everything would get better. So I continued being nice, helping my classmates with their homework, and relying on God, trusting that someday I would make a good friend. At first, not much seemed to change. But after I started high school, my classmates were nicer people.
More importantly, during those years when I was looking for friends, I found that my best friend is Jesus Christ. So not only did I make new friends at school, but I also made the best Friend that I could ever have.

When Caroline was five, she woke between 2:00 and 3:00 a.m. for many nights in a row. One night after this unwelcome wake-up call, I wrote this:
As I was changing her diaper just now, I was absentmindedly singing one of the [Primary] songs that Lizzy [our older daughter] has declared we shall now sing for bedtime every night. … “God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be.”2 And I looked at Caroline and suddenly the words came to the forefront of my consciousness.
God gave me a family—including this 2:00 a.m. waker—to help me become what He wants me to be. … “This is how He shares His love,” the chorus continues, “for the fam’ly is of God.”
That night I felt a brief, blessed communion with God, a confirmation that He was, in that moment, personally aware of me and Caroline and our family. He loves us. And He, my Father, gave me encouragement by teaching me why we face such challenges: “to help us become what He wants us to be.”

About those dinosaurs that need painting. The Ogden Weber Heights Stake wanted service to the community to be part of their youth conference. The city had been building a parkway along the river. One of the attractions was a dinosaur park with full-size replicas of several species of dinosaurs as they must have looked when they roamed the area. The trouble is, replicas have to stay out in the sun and snow, weather that can destroy paint jobs. So paint colors like brontosaurus brown and pterodactyl tan were soon speckling the clothes, faces, and hands of some willing painters. It’s hard to feel down when you’re hanging around the neck of a dinosaur with a paintbrush.

Then the whole stake planned a day to plant trees along the parkway. Jeff Walker, 16, from the Skyline Ward, said, “It’s nice to do something to help make our community look better. After the service project, I drove by with one of my friends. He said, ‘Man, that sure has been cleaned up a lot.’ I told him I helped with that.”

When asked what she would tell other teens in her ward and stake who were wavering about making the decision to participate, Dieuwke Stohel, 17, of the Grandview Ward said, “I would tell them, When you get done, the day cannot go wrong. Once you’re there, you’ll be really glad you went.”

“You’re unusually quiet,” Mark’s mother observed on the drive home from Church. “Is anything wrong?”
Mark found tears stinging the corners of his eyes. “Today in Primary our teacher talked about testimonies and challenged us to bear ours. I really wanted to do it in fast and testimony meeting today, but I just couldn’t. When I thought about standing up in front of all those people, I got scared. Besides, I couldn’t think of anything to say. I guess I don’t have a testimony, after all.”
“It is frightening to stand up in front of all those people, especially if you don’t know what you’re going to say,” Mark’s mother agreed with him. “But it doesn’t mean that you don’t have a testimony. Do you know what it means to ‘bear a testimony’?”
“My teacher said it means to stand as a witness for something, like at a trial.”
“That’s one meaning. But another meaning of bear is ‘carry it with you.’ Our testimonies show in what we say and do every day of the week, not just on Sundays. Do you want to know if you have a testimony?”
“Yes.”
“Pay attention to how you live your life this month. I think you’ll discover that you are bearing your testimony all the time.”
Mark hoped that what his mother said was right. He thought that he had a testimony, but he wasn’t sure. He decided that each Sunday he would write in his journal about anything that happened to him that week involving his testimony.
The first week he wrote about something his friend, Jay, had said to him. He and Jay shared a paper route after school and split their paycheck. That week Jay had said to him, “I can’t understand why you always have more money than I do—we get paid the same amount.”
“You always spend yours right away on little things,” Mark pointed out.
“I know,” Jay said. “But a lot of yours goes to your church for—what do you call it again?”
“Tithing.”
“Yeah, tithing. And into your mission savings. But you still have more left than I do.”
Mark had never thought about it before, but it was true. He did seem to have more spending money than Jay. He guessed that he was just more careful with what he had left after tithing and savings.
The next week he didn’t know what he’d write about in his journal until Saturday night. That night his friends came over and invited him to go to the movies with them. He was excited until he heard the name of the movie. “I can’t see that movie,” he told his friends.
They were surprised. “Why not? It’s a really funny movie.”
“Because the rating tells me that it has something in it that we shouldn’t see.”
“It’s just a movie,” his friends tried to persuade him.
Mark thought about a lesson his family had had at a family home evening. He knew that the prophets had warned about watching bad things on TV and in movies, or looking at bad things in magazines or books. It was almost impossible to erase those bad images from your mind.
“I’d rather not see it,” he said, and his friends went without him.
The third week, Mark knew what he was going to write about in his journal long before Sunday. It was Monday morning, in fact, when one of his friends, Rob, had come to school looking very tired.
“What’s wrong,” Mark asked him. “Are you sick?”
“No.” Rob yawned. “I didn’t sleep much last night. I ate too much candy, and my stomach was upset for a long time.”
“Too much candy isn’t good for you,” Mark said. “It’s better to snack on fruit or eat a cheese sandwich or something.”
“I know that now,” Rob said as he put his head down on his desk.
The last week of the month, Mark wrote about a very frightening thing that had happened to him. He had been out delivering his papers in the rain and was almost hit by a car. Later he remembered that in their family prayers that morning, his little sister had prayed that they would all be safe in the rain.
When fast Sunday came again, Mark was prepared. His family sat close to the front of the chapel so that he could be first to the podium when it was time for bearing testimonies. During the meeting, he offered a prayer in his heart that he would know what to say.
When it was time, he stood and walked up to the microphone. At first, he was nervous at seeing all the people looking back at him, but most of them were smiling, and he knew that they were his friends.
“I have a testimony of the law of tithing,” he began, “and of the Word of Wisdom. I know we have a living prophet today, and I know Heavenly Father answers our prayers.” Mark ended his testimony and sat down. His mom patted him on the knee.
He still felt a bit shaky, but mostly he had a really good feeling, like he was glowing from head to toe. He was glad that he had a testimony and that he could bear it every single day.

After school Doug dashed home and pounded up the steps into his family’s new apartment. He could hardly wait for the baseball game to start at the park.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” asked his mother as he sped from his room, carrying his baseball glove and aluminum bat.
“Across the street to play ball,” Doug said. Eric, from one of the other apartments, had told him that a group of boys got together after school to play baseball. Doug hoped he could make some friends in the new neighborhood.
“I want to go, too!” Doug’s younger brother, Jimmy, shouted as he dashed into the room.
“You know what’ll happen, Jimmy. Why don’t you stay here and play Baseball Master with Dad?” A game board version of real baseball, Baseball Master was won by a player’s knowledge of baseball strategy. Jimmy loved it.
“I don’t know about that,” called their father. “Jimmy’s too good for me.”
It was true. At Baseball Master Jimmy could outhit, outsteal, and outscore almost anyone.
Doug glanced at his watch and hustled off. He hoped that Jimmy would take his advice. It would save them both a lot of embarrassment.
Jimmy didn’t. Doug cringed as Jimmy trotted up to the group of boys in the park and asked to play. Jimmy looked over at Doug and grinned, but Doug ignored him.
Doug ended up playing second base for one team, and Jimmy played right field for the other team. Doug hit a home run his first time at bat. Jimmy struck out. Doug made his catches look easy at second base. Jimmy missed every ball that came to him in right field.
Doug felt sorry for his brother when Jimmy was yanked from the field by his team captain and replaced with another boy. Doug wished Jimmy would go home, but he didn’t. Jimmy stood behind the backstop, cheering for everything his team did.
When Doug hit his third home run to win the game. Eric and the other boys from the apartments slapped him on the back and chose him to be one of the two captains for the next game.
Doug heard some of the boys on the other team complaining, “We might have won if that clumsy kid hadn’t shown up.” Doug avoided looking at Jimmy. What if they knew that that “clumsy kid” was my brother? he thought.
Doug played catch with his new friends for a while and then walked home.
Jimmy was sitting on the apartment stairs, his head down. “Doug, how come I’m no good?” he asked.
Doug shrugged. Jimmy had always been awkward. The doctors blamed it on poor hand/eye coordination. There wasn’t much Jimmy could do about it. It was a shame, too, because he loved baseball. And he knew more about it than anyone else Doug knew.
“After supper I’ll help you with your catching and hitting,” Doug offered.
After eating, they headed down the apartment steps toward the park. Suddenly Doug spotted Eric and a couple of his new friends on the baseball field. He froze. “Um, Jimmy, let’s go play out behind the apartments. It’s too crowded over there.”
“I saw those boys,” Jimmy mumbled as they turned around. “You’re ashamed of me. That’s why you didn’t talk to me at the game today, isn’t it?”
Doug didn’t answer. He worked with Jimmy until it was nearly dark, without much success. “Why don’t you be our cheerleader?”
Jimmy shook his head. “I want to be part of the game.” He looked up at Doug as they walked back to the apartment. “Are you going to pick me on your team tomorrow?”
Doug was silent. How can I pick Jimmy? he wondered. What would the other guys think?
Before bed that night Doug walked past Jimmy’s bedroom and heard him praying. “Heavenly Father, why can’t I play sports? Why am I so uncoordinated?”
Doug wondered the same thing. Why did Jimmy have to sit home studying baseball while everyone else was out playing it? It didn’t seem fair. There had to be something Jimmy could do on a team besides cheering.
In his room Doug prayed about it. But no answer came to him.
The next day Doug waited at the park as the other boys arrived. He’d already decided which ones he wanted. They’d be the best. Maybe after choosing them, he’d pick Jimmy.
When Jimmy joined them, pounding his glove, several guys groaned.
Eric poked Doug in the ribs. “Who is that kid anyway? Do you know him?”
Doug pretended that he didn’t hear Eric, but it made him feel strange inside. Doug didn’t like the feeling. He realized he’d been acting ashamed of Jimmy because Jimmy had a problem with his coordination. That wasn’t Jimmy’s fault.
“He’s my brother!” Doug said loudly. “And he probably knows more about baseball than any of us.”
The other boys stared at him.
Eric snickered. “Him?”
“You don’t have to be able to hit home runs and make dazzling catches to know how the game is played.”
“All right,” said Eric impatiently. “Let’s get the game started. Pick, Doug.”
Doug looked over the group, but he couldn’t seem to decide. Every time he saw Jimmy’s eager face, his picks got all jumbled around in his head. Sure, he knew the guys who could hit, but hits didn’t always win games. Sometimes strategy did. Suddenly he knew the answer to his prayer.
“My first pick is Jimmy,” Doug announced, pointing to his brother.
“He can’t play,” someone said.
“Not to play,” Doug said, as Jimmy proudly scurried to his side, “but to be my manager and to plan strategy.”
There were some laughs. But when Doug’s team won the game by ten runs, no one was laughing. Jimmy’s strategy had worked.
Eric was chosen as one of the captains for the next game. Doug saw him eyeing Jimmy. “I already know who my first pick will be,” Eric said.
Doug smiled at Jimmy. “So do I.”

On 26 July 1943, Ezra Taft Benson’s true vocation of serving in the kingdom became his full-time occupation when President Heber J. Grant called him to be the youngest member of the Quorum of the Twelve. He was set apart on October 7 of that year, the same day as Elder Spencer W. Kimball, whom he would follow as President.

Just over two years later, in December 1945, Elder Benson was assigned to preside over the European Mission in the aftermath of World War II. Specifically, his commission was to reopen missions throughout Europe and to distribute food, clothing, and bedding to the suffering Saints.

On an almost eleven-month mission of love, Elder Benson traveled more than sixty thousand miles to Germany, Poland, Czechoslovakia, and Scandinavia—often in freezing weather in unheated trains and planes. With typical optimism, he organized the “K-Ration Quartet” with his traveling companions, to sing away the tedious and uncomfortable hours.

Time and time again, when permission to enter war-torn countries or to distribute supplies seemed impossible to obtain, Elder Benson appealed to the Lord to open the way. Barrier after barrier was dissolved, and thousands of tons of Church welfare supplies were sent to the Saints in Europe. During this mission, Elder Benson also dedicated Finland for the preaching of the gospel.

Elder Benson met in bombed-out schoolhouses and meetinghouses with Saints who had lost homes, families, health—everything except their devotion to the gospel. The scenes of starvation and destruction never faded from President Benson’s memory. Nor did the faces and the faith of his beloved European brothers and sisters, of whom he often spoke throughout his life.

Family is important to eight-year-old Shonesty Johnson. When she turned eight, her father, Alexander, was out of town, working in the oil fields. She postponed her baptism a month and a half so that he could perform the ordinance. Her fifteen-year-old brother, Alexander, Jr., (Zack), sang “When I Am Baptized” as part of the service. Shonesty says, “I liked being baptized. It made me feel good—especially because Dad baptized me and my brother sang to me.”

Humility is a word we hear a lot about, but do we really understand what it is? I don’t believe I did until one morning years ago when I saw humility in a hotel lobby. I was sitting in the lobby of the Hotel Utah in Salt Lake City. From my soft chair I observed with great interest the comings and goings of people through the front door of the hotel. The longer I sat there, the more crowded the lobby became. People were dodging in and out, bumping into each other in their haste, then exchanging irritated glances as they hurried on. I couldn’t help thinking how unconcerned we are for others as we move about in our individual pursuits.
The very next person who came to the door of the hotel provided a real contrast. Elder George Q. Morris of the Quorum of the Twelve, a man in his 80s, reached for the door and held it open for several minutes while others hurried through without so much as a nod of thanks. When there was no one else waiting, he walked into the lobby. He removed his hat and nearly had it knocked out of his hands by a young woman who was in too big a hurry to even notice whom she had bumped into.
I watched Elder Morris for at least six or seven minutes as he made his way across the lobby, always stepping aside for others, at the same time expressing a “Pardon me” or “Excuse me, you go first.” Several times he stopped completely while others rushed by. If people were in his way, he would wait patiently until they stepped aside or moved on without ever realizing he was waiting to get by.
I am sure there was no one in that lobby with a busier schedule or more on his mind than Elder Morris. I have thought since that it would have been more appropriate (if less true to life) had everyone stepped aside for an apostle of the Lord.
Some of the true marks of humility—kindness, consideration for others, and an awareness of their aims and needs—are often forgotten in our involved pursuits. I have always appreciated more deeply those who manifest the little kindnesses since seeing humility in a hotel lobby.

Dear brothers and sisters, I join with you in expressing my love and sustaining support to President Eyring and his family. President Hinckley extended this call to serve in the Quorum of the Twelve late Thursday afternoon. I cannot possibly articulate the kaleidoscope of feelings I have experienced since then. There have been sleepless nights and much prayer. My spirits have been buoyed, however, by the knowledge that President Hinckley is the prophet and that the membership of the Church will be praying for me and my family.
To say that I feel deeply inadequate would be an understatement. When I was called as a General Authority in April of 1996, I also felt unequal to the calling. Elder Neal A. Maxwell reassured me then that the most important qualification for all of us serving in the kingdom is to be comfortable in bearing witness of the divinity of the Savior. A peace came over me at that time and has stayed with me since because I love the Savior and have had spiritual experiences that allow me to testify of Him. I rejoice in the opportunity to bear witness of Jesus Christ in all the world (see D&C 107:23), notwithstanding my inadequacies.
In Doctrine and Covenants 68, verses 5 and 6, we read:
“Behold, this is the promise of the Lord unto you, O ye my servants.
“Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come.”
I seek the companionship of the Holy Ghost as I speak with you this Sabbath morning.
The overwhelming feeling that I have in receiving this call is that we must live by faith and not by fear. In 2 Timothy, the Apostle Paul references the faith of Timothy’s grandmother Lois and his mother, Eunice. Paul writes:
“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Timothy 1:7).
In my own case, I respectfully acknowledge ancestors now on the other side of the veil who gave everything asked of them to build the kingdom of God upon the earth.
I am grateful that all my life I have been surrounded by those who love the Savior. My heart is full of appreciation for my family. My wife, Mary, has been the joy of my life. Her spiritual strength, righteous example, sense of humor, and loving support have blessed me throughout my life. Our three children and their spouses have been sources of great personal satisfaction and, together with our nine grandchildren, have been such a blessing to us. Their faith and prayers and the goodness of their lives have been a great comfort to Mary and me.
When I think back to my youth in Logan, Utah (Elder Perry’s fabled Cache Valley), I realize how fortunate I was to be reared in a goodly home—to have a righteous mother who was full of faith, a loving father, an older brother who has been an extraordinary example to me as well as a friend and counselor, and a younger sister who has been loving and supportive. How fortunate also to have had talented and devoted Church leaders, teachers, coaches, and friends who were wonderful examples to me.
As a young man I had the opportunity to serve in the British Mission, which was a seminal, defining event in my life. The influence of a valiant mission president is one of the great miracles of the restored gospel. A few weeks ago I received a birthday card at Church headquarters from a woman I helped teach in Gloucester, England, many years ago. I had lost contact with her. She informed me that she and her husband are both very active members and have 6 children and 20 grandchildren, all born in the covenant. It may be the best birthday card I have ever received.
Mary and I left Utah so I could attend law school in Palo Alto, California. We were planning to return to Utah after graduation, but the Spirit directed that we stay in California. We lived in California for 33 years and raised our family there. We both had many opportunities to serve. We loved the diversity of the members and their commitment to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I will be eternally grateful for the wonderful Latter-day Saints in California who have been such a positive influence in my life.
These last 11 1/2 years of service as a Seventy have been truly rewarding ones. As I leave that quorum, I want my fellow Brethren to know of my love and appreciation for their dedication and loyalty to the kingdom of God on the earth—for their faithfulness and good works. I want them to know of the joy it has been to serve with them.
I love the Brethren we sustain as prophets, seers, and revelators with all my heart. I’ve tried to serve honorably and lighten their responsibilities in any way I could. I’m grateful to the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve for their lives of goodness and example, their patience, their teaching, their kindness, their devotion to our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, and His restored gospel. I am grateful that God called Joseph Smith to be a prophet through whom the fulness of the gospel was restored to earth.
My experience as a General Authority has filled my heart with appreciation for the faith and goodness of the Latter-day Saints all over the world. We served for two years in the Philippines. In April of 1961, President Hinckley, then an Assistant to the Twelve, sent the first missionaries to Manila. There was only one Filipino priesthood holder in the Philippines. Today there are almost 600,000 members. Their lives are not easy, and they lack many material things, but they love the Savior. The gospel is having a tremendous impact in improving their lives. What a blessing to serve in their midst.
We also served for three years in the Pacific Islands. It is significant that almost 25 percent of all the Polynesians in the world are members of the Church. Their faith and spirituality are legendary. Sister Cook and I were in Vava‘u in the Tongan islands on one occasion. I had just spoken about following the prophet in the general session of stake conference. At the luncheon following the conference, I sat next to a distinguished elderly patriarch. He indicated how grateful he was to hear what the prophet was teaching. He gave me the following account. Vava‘u, which is a relatively small island, usually has sufficient rain, but periodically there are severe droughts. The island has long inlets or bays, almost like sounds, which curl into the island below steep hills. When drought conditions left the village without water, there was only one way they could obtain fresh water and stay alive. Over the centuries they had found that fresh water traveled down through rock formations inside the mountains and came up in a few spots in the sea.
The Tongan men would set off in their small boats with a wise elder standing at one end of the boat looking for just the right spot. The strong young men in the boat stood ready with containers to dive deep into the seawater. When they reached the appropriate spot, the wise man would raise both arms to heaven. That was the signal. The strong young men would dive off the boat as deep as they could and fill the containers with fresh springwater. This old patriarch likened this lifesaving tradition to the living waters of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the wise man to God’s prophet here on earth. He noted that the water was pure, fresh, and, in their drought condition, lifesaving. But it was not easy to find. It was not visible to the untrained eye. This patriarch wanted to know everything the prophet was teaching.
We live in a precarious time. The world is in desperate need of the fresh springwater, which is the gospel of Jesus Christ. We should listen intently to the prophet as we make choices. My own informal records indicate that President Hinckley has continually emphasized faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. That has been followed by his emphasis on strengthening families and having family religious observance in the home. Over and over again he has told us that if we would live a principle, we would gain a testimony of the truthfulness of that principle, which would in turn increase our faith.
I know that many of you are concerned about raising your children during these difficult times and increasing their faith. When my wife and I were starting our family in the San Francisco Bay area, we had that same concern. At a critical point our stake members were advised by Elder Harold B. Lee, then a member of the Twelve, that we could raise our families in righteousness if we would:
Follow the prophet.
Create the true spirit of the gospel in our hearts and homes.
Be a light to those among whom we live.
Focus on the ordinances and principles taught in the temple. (See D&C 115:5; Harold B. Lee, “Your Light to Be a Standard unto the Nations,” Ensign, Aug. 1973, 3–4.)
As we followed this counsel, our faith increased and our fears decreased. I believe we can raise righteous children anywhere in the world if they are taught religious principles in the home.
One area where members can live by faith and not by fear is in our missionary effort. Prior to my call to the Presidency of the Seventy on August 1 of this year, I had served in the Missionary Department for six years, the last three years as Executive Director under Elder M. Russell Ballard, who served as Chairman of the Missionary Executive Council.
Some mission presidents informed us that many wonderful members are in camouflage to their neighbors and coworkers. They do not let people know who they are and what they believe. We need much more member involvement in sharing the message of the Restoration. Romans 10, verse 14, puts this into perspective:
“How then shall they call on him [speaking of the Savior] in whom they have not believed? and how shall they believe in him of whom they have not heard? and how shall they hear without a preacher?”
Verse 15 contains the wonderful message referenced in Isaiah:
“How beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings” (see also Isaiah 52:7).
It has been observed that the members are going to have to move their feet and let their voices be heard if they are to achieve this blessing.
Preach My Gospel: A Guide to Missionary Service was first introduced in October 2004. President Hinckley commenced this effort when he called for missionaries to learn the doctrine and to teach the principles by the Spirit. Every member of the First Presidency and Quorum of the Twelve participated to a significant degree. Elder Ballard and I felt that the windows of heaven were opened and the Lord’s inspiration poured out to bring forth this great resource. Over 1.5 million copies of Preach My Gospel have been acquired by the members of the Church. It is a wonderful foundation, and the missionaries are powerful, spiritual teachers. However, if we are to accomplish what President Hinckley has requested, the members, living by faith and not by fear, need to share the gospel with their friends and associates.
In our individual callings we need to have faith and not be fearful.
Our daughter, Kathryn, is serving as the Primary president in her ward in Salt Lake City. My wife and I attended her ward last Sunday to observe the Primary sacrament meeting presentation, “I’ll Follow Him in Faith.” I was thrilled to hear the children recite scriptures and stories coupled with songs focused on faith in Christ.
After the meeting I asked her about her calling. She said that initially the calling weighed her down. Much time was spent going over problems. Then the presidency decided to emphasize love, faith, and prayer. Suddenly spiritual impressions came to mind about a particular child or family. Friction was replaced with love. She tells me that as they acted upon promptings from the Spirit, Primary reflected a reverence and peace, and real gospel learning was taking place.
It is our faith in Jesus Christ that sustains us at the crossroads of life’s journey. It is the first principle of the gospel. Without it we will spin our wheels at the intersection, spending our precious time but getting nowhere. It is Christ who offers the invitation to follow Him, to give Him our burden, and to carry His yoke, “for [His] yoke is easy, and [His] burden is light” (Matthew 11:30).
There is no other name under heaven whereby man can be saved (see Acts 4:12). We must take upon us His name and receive His image in our countenance so that when He comes we will be more like Him (see 1 John 3:2; Alma 5:14). When we choose to follow Christ in faith rather than choosing another path out of fear, we are blessed with a consequence that is consistent with our choice (see D&C 6:34–36).
May we all recognize and give thanks for the incomparable gift of life we each enjoy and for the breath that He lends us daily. May we choose to have conviction at the crossroads of life and exercise faith in Jesus Christ. My prayer is that we will live by faith and not by fear. I bear my witness of God, who is our Heavenly Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ, who atoned for our sins, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Ramon ran, skipped, and jogged on the way to school. All at once he slowed to a walk.
Today was Monday. New helpers would be chosen in his class at school.
Ramon wanted very much to be a classroom helper. Every changeover day he smiled hopefully at his teacher, Mrs. Martin. Mrs. Martin always smiled back at him, but she had never chosen him to be a classroom helper.
The warning bell was ringing as Ramon hurried into the school building. He had almost reached his classroom when he saw a little girl sitting on the floor, crying as she tried to pick up crayons she had dropped.
Ramon bent down beside her. “I’ll help you.”
Soon all the crayons were picked up, and the little girl hurried on her way.
Mrs. Martin stood at the door of the classroom. Ramon smiled at her. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he said. He sat at his desk and waited for Mrs. Martin to announce this week’s helpers.
She chose Alise to keep the library books put away, Matt to pass out the seatwork, Maria to take care of the art supplies, and Robert to feed the fish.
Ramon was sad that he was not chosen for any of the jobs. He took his pencil out of his desk and got ready to start work. Just then Matt, who was passing out the seatwork pages, dropped the whole pile.
Ramon jumped up. He helped Matt pick up the papers. Matt didn’t say thank you, but Ramon smiled at him anyway.
The classroom door opened, and the principal walked in. With him was a boy Ramon had never seen before. Mrs. Martin spoke to them for a moment.
When the principal left, Mrs. Martin said, “Class, this is Steven, who will now be in our class. I want you to welcome him.”
Then Mrs. Martin said, “Ramon, you are always friendly and smiling and helpful. Will you be my very special helper today and show Steven all around our school? He needs to know where the gym, the cafeteria, and the washrooms are.”
Ramon smiled at his teacher and nodded. He smiled at Steven too.
On the way home from school that day, Ramon ran and skipped and jogged. He was too happy to walk.
“This was a very special day,” he told his mother, “because I got to be a very special helper.”

Recently, while touring a mission, I met with missionaries which demonstrated many examples of faithfulness and all that the word implies. One of the missionaries is Elder Brad Bagan. He is a quadriplegic. He was injured playing in a neighborhood football game. He has very limited use of his hands. With great determination and persistence he has developed the ability to stand with a walker and pull himself along for short distances. He is a successful and happy missionary and an example of faithfulness to all the missionaries and members in that mission, and to all others who know him. He speaks with boldness and love. The companions who serve with him come to realize that if he, with all of his personal challenges, can successfully and cheerfully do missionary work they have no reason or excuse to keep from laboring themselves with all their heart, might, mind and strength. Through his demonstration of faithfulness he has shown many the way to victory on the path of happiness.

While this young elder was at the Missionary Training Center in Provo he had the opportunity to go the Provo Temple which is only a few blocks from the Missionary Training Center. Because of his severely debilitating physical condition it took him about two hours to make his arduous journey up the gently sloping hill to the temple on a very cold and windy day. When the MTC president learned about Elder Bagan's experience he felt very sad and told the Elder he would have been happy to provide transportation for him. Elder Bagan's response was impressive. He told the President not to worry or be concerned about what had happened. "It was worth it." The Prophet Joseph Smith taught that the pursuit of Holiness also keeps us on the pathway to happiness. The temple is a place of holiness and being worthy to enter there is essential to our eternal happiness. Whatever effort is required of us to go there will indeed be "worth it."

The silence of the sacrament service lingered as the young bishop walked slowly to the pulpit. “May I please see by a show of hands, how many of you love the Lord?”
Everywhere in the congregation hands were raised—some high, some low; some people raised only a finger. A few kept their hands in their laps. “That’s fine,” nodded the bishop. “How many of you would like to have a perfect day?”
Again the hands were raised.
“Larry, would you like to have a perfect day? Would you please come up here in front. Gene and LaRae? DeeAnn? Sean? Tess and John? Lynn and Mike?”
The names were called slowly and carefully, a short pause between each one. Some of the hands dropped lower, some fell back into the laps of their owners, only a few remained high.
“A widow? Do we have a widow who would like to live a perfect day?” There was a moment of silence as the bishop looked over the congregation filled mostly with widows and older people. “Vivian, would you like to have a perfect day?”
The bishop then turned to those who were on the stand behind him. “Now which day would you like to be your perfect day? Tuesday?”
Shock, disbelief, bewilderment—no one had really expected to have to make a real commitment. Some heads were nodding yes. Others stood motionless. After several seconds someone suggested Thursday because it was farther away and would give them more time to prepare. So Thursday was set as the day.
The bishop, with eyes twinkling, said, “That’s fine. Thursday you will have a perfect day. And next Sunday we’d like you to describe your perfect day in sacrament meeting.”
Then he turned back to the congregation. “Is there anyone else who would like to live a perfect day?” James, a young Aaronic Priesthood teacher, with freckled face and a winning grin, raised his hand. He was included.
“Thursday these eleven people are going to have a perfect day,” the bishop continued addressing the congregation. “Your responsibility as ward members is to pray that they accomplish that assignment.”
What makes a day perfect? How does one live a perfect day? All through the week when ward members would get together, the subject of the perfect day would come up. We were excited to hear the reports.
Sunday finally came.

Brother Decker kept working with us each troop meeting. He taught us how to plan our own program, built up our enthusiasm with songs and games, and helped us with advancement. In September we had a Court of Honor where nearly everyone advanced a rank and over 50 merit badges were given. A district camporee followed soon afterwards, an overnight event held at Sugar Loaf Mountain on Sycamore Creek. Brother Decker let us set up camp just the way we wanted it. Our patrol leaders assigned boys to dig the latrine, rope off the wood-chopping area, make the grease pit, etc. It was a Boy Scout troop run by the boys!
Saturday was given to merit badge work. Brother Decker had classes on nature and was gone most of the day. At 3:00 P.M. we had our closing ceremony, and awards were given to the outstanding troops, with suitable prizes. There was one for the troop that showed the most improvement from last year, and others for similar things. When they were ready to announce the first-place winner, we glanced over and saw the prize sitting on the table, a dutch oven—just what we needed most in our troop equipment. And the winning troop was–756!

Neo and his mom, Nelly
I also started small with sharing the gospel. At first, I was very nervous—extremely nervous—to share the gospel with my friends. I thought my friends wouldn’t be interested in church. And I just didn’t want to disappoint them in some way or for it to be awkward.
Neo and his friend Mangaliso
But to get me started, my mom gave me a card from the missionaries with the meetinghouse address on it. I gave my friend the card and said, “Come to a youth activity. It’s the best thing ever.” He came to the activity. On the drive home, he was quiet the entire way. Then the next week he asked, “Are we going again?” I was like, “Oh, you really want to come?” And from then on he kept coming to activities, and eventually to church.
When my friend told me he was ready to be baptized, I was like, “Sure, just give me a second to process that.” Then he invited our other friend to church, and then it was the two of us helping him. And badda boom, badda bam—now two of my friends have been baptized! And the three of us are trying to help another friend come to church and be baptized as well.
Neo and his friends Lucky and Mangaliso
I’ve seen my friends’ faith in Jesus Christ grow incredibly. I think they even have more faith than me sometimes. When I see us passing the sacrament together, I think, “This is so great. This is the best gift I could be given.” It all started with that small card and then led to two people being baptized.

For units where face-to-face meetings are allowed but not yet advisable for Primary-age children, President Rizaldito and Sister Josette Castro of Davao 1st Ward, Davao Stake advise parents to find ways to help keep their young ones focused on Sunday as the Lord’s day. “We have our two younger children watch Church videos for children while they wait for online Primary,” says President Castro, who serves as stake president. “We also teach them reverence for the Lord by having them wear Sunday best clothes,” he adds.
Sister Castro also has her two boys Boyd, 11, and Kiel, 6, make the most out of Primary online resources such as the Activity Pages and the Children’s Guidebook, which are both available online (www.churchofjesuschrist.org) and in the Church’s Gospel Library app. “We also adjusted our family home evening schedule to Sunday night so that the whole family can focus on the gospel more on the sabbath,” she reveals.