Gospel Story Finder

As an example of the Lord’s timing in my life, I had been at my new job in the BYU Athletic Department for about three weeks when I had to go down to Las Vegas for a business meeting as part of the conference basketball tournament. I woke up very early to make the long drive in time for my meeting at noon. My wife and I prayed fervently that I would make it safely. Caleb had been in the hospital for a few weeks, and we had been up many late nights to be with him. Despite every precaution and physical effort I could make, just outside of St. George I fell asleep in the blink of an eye while driving full speed down the freeway.
I woke up to find myself heading down a hill into the median dividing the highway—one set of tires on the pavement, the other set in the weeds and gravel. I quickly spun the wheel to take me back on the road, but this only caused me to do a 180-degree turn across the lanes of traffic. Thankfully no other cars were near me. Once I got to the far right side of the road, I had the fleeting thought that I could pull it off and would be able to stop the car on the right shoulder. Not so. I think the car was still traveling about 60 to 70 miles per hour when I slammed into the sand and sagebrush, flipping the car over.
Eventually the car came to an abrupt stop with me hanging upside down by my seat belt. I undid the catch and fell to the floor—which had been the roof of the car. It was impossible to open any of the car doors. They were all wedged shut because the car had become fairly flattened to the ground. I climbed through a window, since all the glass in the vehicle had shattered.
Besides a bruised and embarrassed ego, I was completely unharmed. The only cut I had was a small slice on my hand where a piece of glass had stuck me when I released myself from the seat belt and fell to the ground. After being checked out by the police (who also issued me a ticket), my sweet grandmother who lived in St. George somehow let me borrow her car so I could finish my trip to Las Vegas. I walked into my meeting about fifteen minutes late.
The hard part was telling my boss, Tom Holmoe—who was also at the basketball tournament—that I had destroyed a university vehicle during my first month on the job. To make a bad situation worse, my seat at the basketball game following the meeting happened to be directly in front of President Samuelson. I spent the game pulling glass out of my hair as inconspicuously as possible.
In my mind the timing of that wreck was life turning one degree colder. I was trying to make a good first impression at my job. My wife and I were doing our best to take care of a sick child. We had prayed for safety.
The Lord’s timing and purpose were made clear over the following days and months. Tom is a great boss and has never held the accident and the loss of the car against me. The university eventually replaced the car but thankfully didn’t have to replace me—because I was still alive. The Lord had preserved me from what should have been a fatal accident. Having come so close to death helped me more fully appreciate my life and the people around me. I especially enjoyed the time spent with Caleb late at night when I would wake up to take care of him. Not only did it mean I was still alive, but Caleb was too.

Mara bounced happily on the tall kitchen stool as she watched Grandma get out the ingredients for her wonderful tarts. Grandma hummed as she worked, and by the time she rolled out the dough, Mara was humming along with her. “These tarts will be good for your sister’s wedding reception tomorrow,” Grandma said.
“Why can’t I go inside the temple for Alyse’s wedding, Grandma?”
Grandma stopped rolling for a minute. “Well, because you’re not old enough to understand the special covenants we make there.”
“What’s a covenant?”
“A covenant is a promise you make with another person, Mara. In the temple we make special promises with Heavenly Father, and He promises us great blessings when we do our part. All this is part of what we call the endowment.”
Grandmother began rolling out the dough again. When the dough was thin enough, she cut out small circles and carefully fit them into the muffin cups.
Mara watched her grandmother’s wrinkled hands creating the beautiful little tarts. “Grandma, what’s it like inside the temple?”
“There are beautiful flowers and pictures to see. It is beautiful and peaceful, Mara. Everyone is dressed in white, and it feels as though you are surrounded by angels. We learn about Heavenly Father and Jesus there, for the temple is God’s house.”
“I know,” Mara said. “In Primary we sing a song about it called ‘I Love to See the Temple.’ It makes me feel quiet and reverent inside. Is that what the temple feels like?”
“Yes, dear,” Grandma replied. “When you sing that song from the Children’s Songbook, the Holy Ghost helps you have those quiet, reverent feelings. And when you visit the temple, those peaceful, reverent feelings are even stronger. As we worship God in the temple, we can feel His love and peace.”
Grandma spooned fruit filling into the little dough cups, then wove strips of pastry on top of each one. Her white hair bobbed as she moved back and forth. She looked up and smiled at Mara.
“I have another question,” Mara said, smiling back. “Why does everyone wear white in the temple?”
“Wearing white clothes helps us to remember to have thoughts that are pure and clean. Then we can better understand the instruction and guidance we receive there.”
Mara twirled around on her stool. “Dad said that when you get married in the temple, you are married for eternity, not just until you die. Is that why Alyse and Paul want to get married in the temple?”
“That’s one reason. And when they have children, each one will automatically be sealed to them in a ‘forever family.’ Some people get married, then have to work to become worthy of temple blessings, and many people have died without even knowing about them. Once living people are worthy, they can receive the temple ordinances for themselves and for the dead. That way, if they are worthy, everybody who lives or who has lived on earth can be joined together as families and as part of God’s eternal family.”
“Wow! I sure want to be married in the temple when I grow up, Grandma. Will you make your tarts for my reception too?”
Grandma winked at her. “I’m looking forward to it!”

Upon his arrival in the mission field, a new missionary sat with me as we discussed his duties and responsibilities and the discipline they would require of him. As I outlined what was expected of him, he stopped me: “Just a minute, President Backman. There’s something you ought to know. I’m stupid.”

Being determined to demonstrate to him the great capacity for service he possessed as a son of God, and to awaken in him a realization of his unique mission on earth, I assigned him to a senior companion who really worked him hard, pressing him to learn, grow, and serve, despite his professed weakness. In addition, I kept pressuring him to the point that his district leader wrote me in a report that the new missionary intended to punch me in the nose the next time I toured the mission.

Within weeks my wife and I made a final tour of the mission before we were released. I took the opportunity to sit down privately with each missionary so I could express my love and confidence in him. The new missionary’s turn came. I closed the door of the room behind him, removed the glasses I was wearing, and said, “If it will make you feel any better, elder, go right ahead and punch me in the nose.” For a moment, I thought he was going to do what he had threatened to do. Instead, he fell into my arms crying. I then had one of those precious moments when I shared with him my knowledge and understanding of his divine potential and his capacity to love and serve his fellow beings. As we concluded our discussion, I remarked that if he wanted to make me happy, he would come to my office in Salt Lake City in about two years and tell me he had finished his mission.

We had been home from our mission about two years when I looked up from my office desk one morning to see a grinning face peering through the door. It was my missionary. Without any word of greeting , he declared, “President, I finished my mission!”

I was so proud of him!

In July 2001, I was able to go to the National Boy Scout Jamboree in Virginia. I am an 11-year-old Scout. I wasn’t old enough to participate as a Boy Scout, but I attended with my family, who performs a Polynesian show. I have two older brothers, two older sisters, and a younger brother. We have performed in Utah, Puerto Rico, Hawaii, Virginia, Japan, and Florida. We have performed at theme parks, hospitals, schools, libraries, rest homes, orphanages, and Scouting functions.
My younger brother, James (wearing yellow in the photo), and I (wearing green) do a Navajo Indian Hoop Dance. We also do the hula, play the piano, and sing. I also play the ukulele and perform yo-yo tricks.
I enjoyed sharing my talents at the Jamboree. It made people happy. It also helped me to make friends with people from all over the world, and it helped me have a special time with my family. By sharing my talents, I know I will become a better person and build my talents. Matthew 5:16 says, “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” I am grateful for the chance I had to share my talents at the Boy Scout Jamboree.

Morningsides were our seminary’s version of firesides. They were really early in the morning, but I was always glad I went.
At one of those early morning meetings, the speaker gave each of us a penny as we entered the chapel. We held the pennies throughout his talk, and at the end he challenged us to put our pennies in our shoes. His suggestion, at first, sounded like one of those things people do for good luck, like keeping a rabbit’s foot in your pocket. But then he explained his strange request.
The speaker asked us to pray every time we felt the pennies in our shoes. It didn’t sound too hard, but when I got up I realized that a penny in your shoe is only slightly less annoying than a rock in your shoe. Still, I decided to take the challenge.
During the day at school, the penny would slide around as I walked. And when I felt it, I remembered to offer a silent prayer. I forgot about the challenge after I took my shoes off until I wore those shoes again later in the week. I didn’t take the penny out but decided to pray again throughout that day. My day went so well I decided to put a penny in every pair of shoes I owned.
Those pennies changed me. Their effect was much better than good luck. They taught me how to pray and communicate with my Heavenly Father. Now I know how it feels to pray without ceasing and to always have a prayer in my heart (see Alma 34:27; 3 Ne. 19:24, 30).
I don’t keep pennies in my shoes anymore. After a few months, I didn’t need the reminder to thank Heavenly Father for my many blessings or to ask for His help when I needed it. I feel like I know Him better now, and I know He is always there to listen to and answer my prayers.

As a 16-year-old I learned that the Lord does indeed listen to and answer sincere prayers, even those of a young man.
My father followed the counsel of the Brethren that we should be prepared with not only food but also fuel, and so each fall my younger brother and I would help him cut and haul firewood to be stored for future need. In the area of Virginia where we lived, trees were being downed to make way for new construction. There was a time allotted for those who wanted to cut up the wood and haul it off. One bright fall day, my father announced that we would drive out to one of these construction sites and get a truckload of wood.
It was my father’s job to work the chainsaw and cut the trees into pieces that my brother and I could haul to the truck. We had worked late into the afternoon when my father announced that we could pack up. After reaching into his pocket, he looked at us and said, “Oh no. I lost the keys.” At first we thought he was kidding, but then he pulled his pocket inside out and revealed a large hole. All three of us started to search where we had been. We looked and looked but could not find the keys.
It was getting late and cold. We had not dressed for the cool of evening, and it would have been a hike of several miles on country roads to get to where we could reach a phone. It was not a life-threatening situation, but to a tired 16-year-old, it seemed desperate. After searching for as long as I could, and realizing the futility of our efforts in this maze of wood and sawdust, I took the only course I thought was left. I went behind the pile of trees and there humbly pleaded to our Heavenly Father. I explained to Him what our situation was and asked if He could help us find the keys.
Answers to prayers come in many ways. On this occasion, as I opened my eyes, I felt a distinct prompting to go to a stack of trees where we had cut earlier that day. Even though we had each searched there previously, I walked over to that spot. As I arrived there, again a prompting came to look down into a hole between the large trunks lying across each other. It was now dusk and getting difficult to see, so at first I could not see anything in the dark hole, but as my eyes became adjusted I was excited to see a glimmer of metal. Just as I was about to reach down and grab the keys, the Spirit gave me a distinct warning not to put my hand in that hole. The prompting was so strong that I decided to examine the situation more closely. I squinted and could barely make out the reason why I was not to reach for the keys. There, curled in the leaves and sawdust next to the keys, was a copperhead snake.
I did the only thing a wise 16-year-old would do. I shouted, “Hey Dad, I found the keys,” and he responded, “Where?” I yelled, “Over here.” Then with a pause and a smile I added, “And you can get them out!” When my dad got to where I was, I explained to him our dilemma about the location of the keys and how our friend the snake was guarding them. My father got a long stick, slowly lowered it so as to not disturb the snake, and pulled out the keys.
Soon we were in a warm truck with a full load of wood and ready to head home when my father asked me how I ever found those keys. I told him. He believed me and reminded me that we should take a moment to express our gratitude to our Heavenly Father for finding the keys, and we did.

When I was diagnosed with juvenile diabetes, it was very hard for me. I had to prick my finger every two hours and get a lot of shots from my mom every day. Sometimes it hurt.
Then last year my mom and I decided to start looking for the good side of having diabetes. First, I have made new friends who also have diabetes. They help me a lot. I can help others who have diabetes by babysitting for their families or by talking and listening.
My brothers have also been blessed by learning to have patience and to be loving when I don’t feel well. The school nurse is my friend, and I’ve been blessed with Primary teachers who understand and help me. In our family we hug and support each other more.
The blessings of diabetes are all around me. I am thankful that my parents teach me to seek and find these special blessings. I know my Heavenly Father always blesses me and always will.Heidi Millett, age 8, and her mom, Queen Creek, Arizona

Priscila is a very good gymnast. She practices three to four hours after school each afternoon Monday to Saturday and three hours in the morning and three hours in the afternoon during school vacations. She hopes one day to represent Guatemala in the Olympics. She gets very nervous during competitions and has to really push herself to compete against the other girls who are very good. “Sometimes I feel very nervous and think I can’t do it and that I am going to fall while doing flips or somersaults.” When she feels that way before a competition, she asks her father to give her a blessing. After each blessing, she feels calm and knows that she can do her best. “I have felt the blessing as I perform on the various apparatuses.” She is currently in first place in her category in Antigua.

During the difficult economic conditions of postwar Germany, opportunities for education were not as abundant as they are today. But in spite of limited options, I always felt an eagerness to learn. I remember one day, while I was out on my bike delivering laundry, I entered the home of a classmate of mine. In one of the rooms, two small desks were nestled against the wall. What a wonderful sight that was! How fortunate those children were to have desks of their own! I could imagine them sitting with open books studying their lessons and doing their homework. It seemed to me that having a desk of my own would be the most wonderful thing in the world.
I had to wait a long time before that wish was fulfilled. Years later, I got a job at a research institution that had a large library. I remember spending much of my free time in that library. There I could finally sit at a desk—by myself—and drink in the information and knowledge that books provide. How I loved to read and learn! In those days I understood firsthand the words of an old saying: Education is not so much the filling of a bucket as the lighting of a fire.

“It has been my observation,” President Tanner continues,

in interviewing many people throughout the years that far too many people do not have a workable budget and have not disciplined themselves to abide by its provisions. Many people think a budget robs them of their freedom. On the contrary, successful people have learned that a budget makes real economic freedom possible.

Budgeting and financial management need not be overly complicated or time consuming. The story is told of an immigrant father who kept his accounts payable in a shoe box, his accounts receivable on a spindle, and his cash in the cash register.

“I don’t see how you can run your business this way,” said his son. “How do you know what your profit is?”

“Son,” replied the immigrant father, “When I got off the boat, I had only the pants I was wearing. Today your sister is an art teacher, your brother is a doctor, and you’re an accountant. I have a car, a home, and a good business. Everything is paid for. So you add it all up, subtract the pants, and there’s my profit.”

As noted in the introduction, my wife and I celebrated our 20 th anniversary last week. We really did meet in a parenting class. I noticed her on the first day, but it took me half the semester to pluck up the courage to talk to her. The rest is history. This photo is from our wedding day, which was filled with joy and optimism for the future. Our life together has been full and happy, but not without challenges. Over the years, we have experienced the opportunity of learning to live together and build on one another’s strengths while seeking to minimize faults; at times we have struggled to find suitable employment; and, like many of you, we have struggled to make ends meet. Through it all, remembering the times God has answered our prayers has been the key to accepting our challenges and trusting that we can look to the future in faith.

When we married, we looked forward to having our own family. God has blessed us with three beautiful children, who have provided some of the greatest joys we could imagine. We are eternally grateful for them. We always hoped to have more children. We had our first miscarriage after our son was born. Things had gone so smoothly with his pregnancy and birth, that I think we forgot that we were not in charge. I was unable to go to my wife’s monthly appointment because of work obligations. I’ll never forget the call I received from her, telling me the doctor had been unable to locate the baby’s heartbeat. Since that time, we have had two beautiful daughters and several other miscarriages. Remembering the times the Lord sustained us in other challenges allowed us to accept His will for our family and look to our future with faith in His divine plan for us.

Zina Diantha Huntington Young first encountered the Book of Mormon when she was 14 years old and living in Watertown, New York. She later wrote, “One day on my return from school I saw the Book of Mormon, that strange, new book, lying on the window sill of our sitting-room. I went up to the window, picked it up, and the sweet influence of the Holy Spirit accompanied it to such an extent that I pressed it to my bosom in a rapture of delight, murmuring as I did so, ‘This is the truth, truth, truth’” (see Ensign, March 1984, 37).

A few years ago, my husband and I took our children on a cruise to Mexico. When we stopped in Cabo San Lucas, we decided to go zip lining. This was my first experience, and I guess I expected some lush, cool rain forest that had been cleared enough for us to "zip" from tree to tree.

This is what we got. I have never been more scared, hot, or sweaty in my life!

My son Wynter was ten years old at the time. Wynter was born prematurely and has been chronically underweight his whole life. Many of you may consider it a blessing to have doctors tell you to slather butter and cream cheese on everything you eat, but trust me, when it comes to zip lining, being underweight is a curse. No matter how fast Wynter started, the laws of physics and motion prevented him from ever making it from point to point.

At a particularly wide and high chasm, I volunteered to go with Wynter. I thought for sure our combined weight would be enough to get us across. No such luck. Less than halfway across, we came to a complete stop. We were upside down and backwards.

With my legs wrapped around Wynter's body, I began using my arms and the cable to pull us hand over hand across the ravine. It was so hot and exhausting that I quickly lost strength and could not go on. My son and I hung there, hundreds of feet off the ground, scared, and knowing that if something went wrong with the cable or the carabiner, we would plummet to certain death.

Although it seemed like an eternity, in reality within a couple of minutes, our guide hooked himself to the cable and came to rescue us. He wrapped his legs around Wynter and me and quickly pulled us to safety.

In Doctrine and Covenants 84:88, our Savior promises, "...I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up."

While it may sometimes feel like we are upside down and backwards, frightened and struggling to make it through life, this scripture reassures us that we are not alone and prompts us to look around for help.

I will tell you of an experience I had before I was a General Authority which affected me profoundly. I sat on a plane next to a professed atheist who pressed his disbelief in God so urgently that I bore my testimony to him. “You are wrong,” I said, “there is a God. I know He lives!”
He protested, “You don’t know. Nobody knows that! You can’t know it!” When I would not yield, the atheist, who was an attorney, asked perhaps the ultimate question on the subject of testimony. “All right,” he said in a sneering, condescending way, “you say you know. Tell me how you know.”
When I attempted to answer, even though I held advanced academic degrees, I was helpless to communicate.
When I used the words Spirit and witness, the atheist responded, “I don’t know what you are talking about.” The words prayer, discernment, and faith, were equally meaningless to him. “You see,” he said, “you don’t really know. If you did, you would be able to tell me how you know.”
I felt, perhaps, that I had borne my testimony to him unwisely and was at a loss as to what to do. Then came the experience! Something came into my mind. And I mention here a statement of the Prophet Joseph Smith: “A person may profit by noticing the first intimation of the Spirit of revelation; for instance, when you feel pure intelligence flowing into you, it may give you sudden strokes of ideas … and thus by learning the Spirit of God and understanding it, you may grow into the principle of revelation until you become perfect in Christ Jesus.” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith.)
Such an idea came into my mind and I said to the atheist, “Let me ask if you know what salt tastes like,”
“Of course I do,” was his reply.
“When did you taste salt last?”
“I just had dinner on the plane.”
“You just think you know what salt tastes like.” I said.
He insisted, “I know what salt tastes like as well as I know anything.”
“If I gave you a cup of salt and a cup of sugar and let you taste them both, could you tell the salt from the sugar?”
“Now you are getting juvenile,” was his reply. “Of course I could tell the difference. I know what salt tastes like. It is an everyday experience—I know it as well as I know anything.”
“Then,” I said, “assuming that I have never tasted salt, explain to me just what it tastes like.”
After some thought, he ventured, “Well-I-uh, it is not sweet and it is not sour.”
“You’ve told me what it isn’t, not what it is.”
After several attempts, of course, he could not do it. He could not convey, in words alone, so ordinary an experience as tasting salt. I bore testimony to him once again and said, “I know there is a God. You ridiculed that testimony and said that if I did know, I would be able to tell you exactly how I know. My friend, spiritually speaking, I have tasted salt. I am no more able to convey to you in words how this knowledge has come than you are to tell me what salt tastes like. But I say to you again, there is a God! He does live! And just because you don’t know, don’t try to tell me that I don’t know, for I do!”
As we parted, I heard him mutter, “I don’t need your religion for a crutch! I don’t need it.”
From that experience forward, I have never been embarrassed or ashamed that I could not explain in words alone everything I know spiritually. The Apostle Paul said it this way:
“We speak, not in the words which man’s wisdom teacheth, but which the Holy Ghost teacheth; comparing spiritual things with spiritual.
“But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him: neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.” (1 Cor. 2:13–14.)

I recall an experience some years back when I was juggling my time between a full-time job, working on a bachelor's degree, serving as a bishop, a husband, and a father to two small children. It was tough trying to balance everything especially when a term paper is due or when examination week comes along. I remember making use of every bit of available time I had for schoolwork. Sunday evenings were a particular temptation to do school work. I don't how it worked out for me then, but things seem to quiet down in terms of Church responsibilities (I guess it should after spending your entire day in the chapel for meetings and doing interviews), and even for other things. It also seemed like my children who were about two and four years old at that time have mellowed out or perhaps run out of batteries. I have made the decision, years before that "school work" is part of the labors that I perform throughout the week. So if I were to rest from my labors on the Sabbath, I am not supposed to do school work on Sunday. Well, because of that, my mind was much more open and receptive to things that really mattered and activities that were appropriate. Just having the determination to stick to that conviction had a liberating effect on me. I did not have to worry about school on Sundays! I am sure that you students will find it liberating also. So, after putting in extra time for gospel study than I normally would the rest of the week I retire to bed earlier than usual. Then, if I really had an urgent homework or I needed to study for an examination, I would wake up around 2 or 3 a.m. the following day to take care of it. I have found that to be more effective than trying to cram loads of information into your already saturated mind after a long day.

Remember the scripture: "Retire to thy bed early… arise early, that your bodies and your minds may be invigorated." It wasn't until later that I understood that what had happened was more than just my being invigorated. What was also happening in addition was the fulfillment of the promises made by the Lord to those who would keep the Sabbath day holy. I sincerely believe that I was getting a double dose of blessings.

“When I was 10 years old, my family became refugees in a new land. I had always been a good student in school—that is, until we arrived in West Germany. …

“Because so much of the curriculum was new and strange to me, I fell behind. For the first time in my life, I began to wonder if I was simply not smart enough for school.

“Fortunately I had a teacher who taught me to be patient. He taught me that steady and consistent work—patient persistence—would help me to learn.

“Over time, difficult subjects became clearer—even English. Slowly I began to see that if I applied myself consistently, I could learn. It didn’t come quickly, but with patience, it did come.”

My wife mentioned earlier that I attended Rick’s College. The experiences I had there were incredible in helping me prepare to serve a mission. During a holiday weekend, I went home to finish filling out my missionary paperwork. I recall vividly the day I was sitting at the kitchen table doing it. There is a question that asks what date you will be available to serve. June 30th was the date I had always firmly anticipated putting down. But as I went to write June 30th, I got a very distinct feeling that I needed to change it. I couldn’t get over the feeling, and I mentioned it to my Mother, and she suggested that I ponder and pray about it. I got the impression of one of my college roommates in my mind; his name is Brad Winn. As I thought about Brad, I remembered that he already had his mission call and was going into the MTC on June 17th. The thought came to me that if I put down June 15th and I happened to get my call around the same time, we might be able to see each other at the MTC. Well the more I thought about it, it just felt right, so I changed my availability date to two weeks earlier and wrote down June 15th.

I can’t tell you how important it was that I listened to the Spirit that day, and that I took action. Sometimes even small decisions we make during our life journey, can be a like a major fork in the road, or a major turning point. For me, this was one of them. I did get my call to enter the MTC on June 17th. What is significant about that date is that only four Elders were being called each year to the Cook Islands. The Lord wanted me to serve there, and if I had not changed that date, I would have served somewhere else. My wife previously mentioned that it was on my mission that I learned about BYU Hawaii and was prompted to come here. And this is where I met her, and we’ve been blessed to be able to raise our family here with so many wonderful people, and so many wonderful experiences. For better or worse, I probably would have had a very different life if I had not changed that date. So I’ve learned that good things happen when we follow the Spirit!

The production was titled “The Treasure That Lasts.” It consisted of cultural dances from Tonga, Hawaii, Tahiti, New Zealand, Fiji, and Samoa. The story line was that of a couple who, having lost their young child, searched the many Polynesian islands for a treasure that would appease their loss. Although they found gifts at each island, none could soothe their pain. When they returned to Tonga, they were introduced to the gospel by missionaries and learned of “the treasure that lasts”—eternal families and the blessing of someday being reunited with their child who had passed away.

When business meetings brought me to my childhood hometown of Mansfield, Massachusetts, I looked up the Web page of my old middle school. At the end of a list of current faculty members was Mrs. Christine Pfeil, my eighth-grade English teacher who was a truly influential person in my life.
When I was in eighth grade, difficulties at home left me angry and distracted from school responsibilities. Other teachers didn’t pay attention to my altered attitude and slipping grades, but Mrs. Pfeil took a personal interest. She would never accept less than my best. Often she would write on my assignments, “You can do better—try again.” Grudgingly, I would redo the assignment, thinking, “OK, you want something better? I’ll give you something better!” In her class, I felt intelligent and appreciated. When I left Qualters Middle School after eighth grade, I knew I could succeed scholastically because of Mrs. Pfeil’s belief in me.
As I looked at her name on the Web page that day, it suddenly seemed overwhelmingly important to tell her as soon as possible how she had influenced my life. I determined to find her, so at noon the next day, I excused myself from a business meeting and sped to Qualters.
I had just tried her locked classroom door when I saw Mrs. Pfeil walking down the hallway. “Carl Nelson!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t seen you in 25 years! What are you doing here?”
Impelled to deliver my message, I began abruptly. “I feel I need to tell you personally how important you were in my life. In eighth grade I was going through difficult times, but you expected my best. Precious few demanded that much from me then. As far as I can tell, your faith in me was the major reason I began trusting in my own abilities. I don’t know what my life would have been like without a teacher like you.”
As I spoke, Mrs. Pfeil’s eyes became wet. “I have to tell you a story,” she said. “I have always wanted to be a writer, even though I felt God wanted me to teach. Last night I was feeling hurt that I had never received any appreciation for my work. I told God that unless I received some thanks the very next day, I was going to retire from teaching and work on my writing. And now here you come after all this time to thank me on this particular day—this blessing is almost too much!”
Mrs. Pfeil and I were unable to talk longer. Her students began arriving, and I left, humbled that Heavenly Father let me share in helping one of His children. Reflecting upon my brief experience with Mrs. Pfeil, I remained impressed that no matter who we are or what church we belong to, our loving Father works in our lives to answer our prayers.

A prominent politician also experienced a beautiful sense of worship in the temple. After we completed the tour, she literally shared her testimony of feeling closer to God while in the temple. She also said that she had a new understanding of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She described how she had come to the temple open house with many misunderstandings about the Church and our temples, but left changed and with a great appreciation for how temples bring people closer to Christ.