Gospel Story Finder

Corey remembers being 11 or so when his cousin died of cancer. He was at his funeral and struggling with questions. Why did this have to happen? He was a good kid who was strong in the gospel. Why did he have to die? His family knew they would be together again, but the loss made them so sad.
“I didn’t understand why he was taken from us. Then I heard a small voice that said, ‘I need him here.’ It was still a hard thing, but I felt better. After that experience I know that the Lord answers my prayers. That was the beginning of my testimony.”

When Lindo and Annabelle decided to get married, he was making enough to support only himself. At first her parents, also members of the Church, were hesitant to permit the marriage, he says. “But I promised them that we would do our best to obey the commandments and that the Lord would bless us. They decided to trust me.”

Annabelle had a good job at a medical center. “But the prophet had said that, if possible, the mother should not work outside the home,” he says. “We trusted the counsel of our leaders for her not to work.” They were blessed with a baby boy, Kahivhan—and now Lindo has a good job, and they have a nice apartment.

About a year ago, some friends of our family were hospitalized in very serious condition. Rosana and Angel Blanco Rodriguez and two of their children were in their kitchen when they smelled gas. Brother Rodriguez went to investigate. When he touched a gas hose, a small leak exploded, igniting a fire. Seeing his two small children in danger, Brother Rodriguez used his own body to extinguish the flames. He was the most critically injured of the four.
When Mama told our family about the accident, she told us of the love she and Papa felt for their dear friends. She explained that because we live far away, we could not help Brother and Sister Rodriguez by taking care of their other children, their house, or their business matters. But there was a special way we could help them, she said. We could have a family fast and pray that the Lord would bless the Rodriguez family. All of us, even the younger ones, could participate. Our parents had always fasted on the first Sunday of the month and on other occasions, but we had never fasted as a family before. We decided to try it.
We began Saturday at lunchtime. We all fasted—Papa and Mama; Douglas, age 13; Francini, age 11; Debora, age 7; and me, age 9. We said a prayer and asked the Lord to bless our friends. Mama put a reminder—“Our First Family Fast”—on the refrigerator, the water faucet, the microwave, and the kitchen wall, so we would remember not to eat or drink anything.
I did not feel thirsty during those hours, even with the intense heat here in Amazonas, Brazil. I didn’t feel hungry, either. I was able to understand a little how Jesus might have felt when He fasted for 40 days. I felt how good it is to do something to help others.
On Sunday Papa gave each of us an envelope for our fast offerings and helped us fill out the form. At church that day, we gave the money to our branch president. We concluded our fast at lunchtime.
The Rodriguez family eventually returned home with some injuries. As we and many other friends continued to fast and pray for their recovery, the Lord continued to bless them. After several months of care, they were completely cured and were left almost without scars.
Each month since our first family fast, we have fasted and prayed for a united purpose.
I am grateful to be a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and to learn about Jesus Christ and how much He did for me. I want to follow His example always.

We have a rich tradition of the work of the Twelve as we have traveled throughout the world proclaiming the gospel of Jesus Christ. For example, it was on Sunday, June 4, 1837, that the Prophet Joseph Smith approached Heber C. Kimball in the Kirtland Temple and whispered to him, saying, “Brother Heber, the Spirit of the Lord has whispered to me: ‘Let my servant Heber go to England and proclaim my Gospel, and open the door of salvation to that nation’” (quoted in Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball [1945], 104).
The account of Heber C. Kimball and Brigham Young leaving their homes for England certainly shows the sacrifice they were willing to make for the callings they had received. The account reads:
“September 14th, [1839], President Brigham Young left his home at Montrose to start on the mission to England. He was so sick that he was unable to go to the Mississippi [River], a distance of thirty rods, without assistance. After he had crossed the river he rode behind Israel Barlow on his horse to my house, where he continued sick until the 18th. He left his wife sick with a babe only three weeks old, and all his other children were sick and unable to wait upon each other. Not one soul of them was able to go to the well for a pail of water, and they were without a second suit to their backs, for the mob in Missouri had taken nearly all he had. On the 17th, Sister Mary Ann Young got a boy to carry her up in his wagon to my house, that she might nurse and comfort Brother Brigham” (quoted in Life of Heber C. Kimball, 265).
Heber C. Kimball’s family were also ill. Charles Hubbard sent his boy with a team and wagon to help them on their way. Elder Kimball records: “It appeared to me as though my very inmost parts would melt within me at leaving my family in such a condition, as it were almost in the arms of death. I felt as though I could not endure it. I asked the teamster to stop, and said to Brother Brigham, ‘This is pretty tough, isn’t it; let’s rise up and give them a cheer.’ We arose, and swinging our hats three times over our heads, shouted: ‘Hurrah, hurrah for Israel.’” Sister Young and Sister Kimball came to the door and waved a farewell which gave Brother Brigham and Brother Heber much comfort as they continued “without purse or scrip” toward England. (See Life of Heber C. Kimball, 265–66.)
The Bible Dictionary states that Apostle “means ‘one sent forth.’ … The calling of an apostle is to be a special witness of the name of Jesus Christ in all the world, particularly of his divinity and of his bodily resurrection from the dead. … Twelve men with this high calling constitute an administrative council in the work of the ministry. … Today twelve men with this same divine calling and ordination constitute the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” (“Apostle,” 612).
An Apostle today continues to be “one sent forth.” The conditions we face are different from those of the early Brethren as we make our journeys to fulfill our assignment. Our manner of travel to all corners of the earth is very different from that of the early Brethren. However, our assignment remains the same as that which was given by the Savior as He instructed His called Twelve to “go ye therefore, and teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost: teaching them to observe all things whatsoever I have commanded you: and, lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world” (Matthew 28:19–20).
For you two new Brethren, I can promise you that there will be a new understanding of what it means to belong to a quorum. I wish the feeling and respect we have for our council could be transported to every quorum in the Church. Would you deacons, teachers, priests, elders, and high priests quorums listen for a moment to what I believe is one of the greatest blessings one can receive from being a bearer of the priesthood? That special blessing is belonging to a priesthood quorum.
President Stephen R. Richards, many years ago, gave us some wonderful counsel on Church government. His statement is as follows:
“The genius of our Church government is government through councils. … I see the wisdom, God’s wisdom, in creating councils: to govern his Kingdom. In the spirit under which we labor, men can get together with seemingly divergent views and far different backgrounds, and under the operation of that spirit, by counseling together, they can arrive at an accord. … I have no hesitancy in giving you the assurance, if you will confer in council as you are expected to do, God will give you solutions to the problems that confront you” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1953, 86).
And what are the great benefits you will experience from belonging to a quorum? Again from Stephen R. Richards—he said, “A quorum is three things: first, a class; second, a fraternity; and third, a service unit” (in Conference Report, Oct. 1938, 118).
I see this genius so manifestly apparent in the functions of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. We are a class as we study the doctrines of the kingdom together. Can you imagine what a special experience it would be to be in a quorum meeting and be taught gospel doctrine by Elders Ezra Taft Benson, Mark E. Petersen, LeGrand Richards, Howard W. Hunter, Bruce R. McConkie, David B. Haight, or Neal A. Maxwell? You will notice that I have used only those Brethren who have completed their earthly ministries in order not to be selective among our current Apostles. This same blessing can be yours in each of your quorums. The words of the Apostles, past and present, live in the scriptures, conference addresses, Church magazines, devotionals, and so forth. They are available to bring the power of the doctrine of the kingdom into your quorum’s class. Make of your quorum a class to increase your knowledge of the gospel of our Lord and Savior.
In our quorum, we have a special brotherhood. We are there to lift, inspire, and bless each other with the spirit of our calling. When one is burdened, there are 11 others anxious to help lift and share that burden. At times we rejoice together in feelings of accomplishment. We weep together in times of sorrow. We never feel as if we are facing a problem alone! There is always the counsel, support, help, and encouragement of our quorum members.
From the book Priesthood and Church Government, we have this statement on the brotherhood which should exist in every priesthood quorum: “The Priesthood is a great brotherhood, held together by the eternal and immutable laws that constitute the framework of the Gospel. The feeling of brotherhood should permeate the quorum. It should be the first concern of a quorum to help all members who may be in need temporally, mentally, or spiritually. The spirit of brotherhood should be the directing force in all the plans and operations of the quorum. If this spirit be cultivated, wisely and persistently, no other organization will become more attractive to the man who holds the Priesthood” (Rudger Clawson, foreword to A Guide for Quorums of the Melchizedek Priesthood [1930], 3; quoted in John A. Widtsoe, comp., Priesthood and Church Government [1939], 135). We would encourage each priesthood quorum in the Church to cultivate such a brotherhood.
Finally, the only purpose for our Quorum is to be of service. Perhaps our deep feelings of this responsibility could be characterized in an epistle dated October 26, 1886, by Wilford Woodruff, who was then serving as President of the Council of the Twelve Apostles: “I will say to the Apostles, our responsibility is very great. … What manner of men ought we to be? The whole earth is ripening in iniquity, and the Zion of God should be prepared for the coming of the bridegroom. We should humble ourselves before the Lord and be in a position to be filled with the spirit of our calling, with the Holy Ghost, and with the revelations of Jesus Christ, that we may know the mind and will of God concerning us, and be prepared to magnify our calling and bring to pass righteousness, and be valiant in the testimony of Jesus Christ to the end. … There never was a time when the work of God required a more faithful testimony and labor from the Apostles and Elders than to-day” (“An Epistle,” Deseret News, Nov. 24, 1886, 712). Make of each of your quorums a great service organization for the benefit of all your quorum members.
Now this word of warning from the scriptures:
“Wherefore, now let every man learn his duty, and to act in the office in which he is appointed, in all diligence.
“He that is slothful shall not be counted worthy to stand, and he that learns not his duty and shows himself not approved shall not be counted worthy to stand” (D&C 107:99–100).
And so I say to you two Brethren who have joined us in our quorum, and to all of you brethren who belong to the priesthood of God, may God bless each of us in our calls to serve. May our faith strengthen as we serve in righteousness, faithfully keeping the commandments. May our testimonies ever grow stronger as we seek to find the fountain of eternal truth. May the brotherhood that exists in our quorums be of comfort and strength and security as we pass through this mortal part of our existence. May the joy of gospel service ever abide in our hearts as we go forward to fulfill our duties and responsibilities as servants in our Father in Heaven’s kingdom is my humble prayer in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

—“My dad runs a welding shop,” said Blaine Hill, 19, who hails from Burley, Idaho. “He was always building swing sets and monkey bars for the family, doing repairs and making things for people. I grew up with welding.”
But he had no idea that it was the sort of thing he could get a degree in.
“I imagined that when you went to college you’d have to major in something big, like being a doctor or a lawyer or something to make money. I thought welding was something you did in your spare time.”
Then in high school, he heard about a welding contest sponsored by Ricks. He entered it, and it changed his life.
“I won a scholarship, so I came here just to get a feel of what it would be like.”
Not only did he discover that “welding is what I’d like to do for the rest of my life,” he also found out that it’s a topic of study and research at a number of major universities.
Blaine is currently serving in the Oregon Portland Mission. When he returns, he’ll “probably go on to Arizona State University for a master’s degree in welding engineering and technology.” That program, like the associate degree program at Ricks, has a job placement approaching 100 percent.

When our second son, Dave, was 12 years old, he was home alone one afternoon when the telephone rang. It was one of the Laurels in our ward who was calling. Her car had a flat tire and she had been unable to find anyone to help her fix it, so she called to see if my wife, who was president of the Young Women of the ward, could help her. Dave said, “I’m home alone, but I can ride my bike and help you change the tire.” When he hung up the phone, he remembered he hadn’t asked her where she was. He went into his bedroom, knelt down, and asked the Lord to take him to this girl. Then he went out, climbed on his bicycle, and rode directly to where she was.

Some time ago a couple came to my office with very heavy hearts. They had a priest-age son who was an Eagle Scout, a Duty to God Award winner, a good student who had been conscientious in school and on his part-time job. Then one night he just walked away from home and didn’t return. He had been gone for several weeks, and they were heartsick.
I asked them if they had pleaded with the Lord to know where their son was. They assured me they had. “Have you pleaded with all your strength?” “Yes, we have.” “Have you pleaded with every particle of your being?” “Well,” they said, “maybe not every particle.” I said, “You go home and pray again—this time with every particle of energy and strength of your being.” They said they would.
That afternoon the couple knelt down and pleaded with the Lord. At six o’clock the phone rang. It was their son, calling from Banff, Alberta, Canada. After talking to him for a few minutes and finding that he was safe and in no danger, they asked why he had called at that particular time. He replied, “The bishop this evening had the strongest impression to have me call home. He came over to my apartment and said he would not leave until I called home.”
We need to understand that some things demand pleading with the Lord. When we come to know that without his help we cannot possibly accomplish our desires, then we must learn to plead to whatever extent necessary.
Great blessings are wrought through prayer. The God of heaven would not expect us to pray to him if he had no intention of answering our prayers.
One of the choicest experiences of my life was to kneel in prayer in the office of President Spencer W. Kimball. I felt President Kimball’s overpowering love for our Father in Heaven as we knelt together. He taught us much about prayer through his example. We need to learn that we should pray as though everything depended upon God, and then work as though everything depended upon us. When we follow through on our part of the agreement with our Heavenly Father, answers always come. May we have gratitude to God, who is always available to answer a simple prayer of a believer.

My grandfather, Fritz Hjalmar Lundgren, emigrated from Sweden when he was 19 years old. He arrived in America alone, with a suitcase and six years of formal schooling. Unable to speak any English, he made his way to Oregon and worked there as a lumberjack and then later, with my grandmother and my mother, joined the Church. He never presided over a ward, but as a faithful home teacher, he brought more than 50 different families into Church activity. How did he do that?

After Grandpa’s death, I was going through a box of his papers and came across a letter written by a man who had come back to church because of Grandpa’s love. The letter read, “Brother Fritz’s secret, I believe, is that he is always on an errand for Heavenly Father.”

That letter was from Brother Wayne Simonis. Grandpa visited him and got to know each member of the family. In time, Grandpa told them that they were needed and invited them to attend church. But that Sunday, Brother Simonis awoke with a dilemma—he had not finished reroofing his house, and rain was expected that week. He decided that he’d go to church, shake hands with Grandpa, and then leave and go home to finish the roof. His family could attend sacrament meeting without him.

His plan was working just fine until, on the roof, he heard someone climbing the ladder. In his words: “When I looked up, … standing at the top of the ladder was Brother Fritz. He just gave me that big smile. At first, I was embarrassed and felt like a little kid getting caught for skipping school. Then … I felt anger. [But Brother Fritz just] took off his suit coat and hung it on the ladder. As he rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, he turned to me and said, ‘Brother Simonis, do you have another hammer? This work must be very important or you wouldn’t have left your family, and if it’s that important, I want to help you.’ As I looked into his eyes, I saw only kindness and Christlike love. My anger left. … I laid my tools down that Sunday and followed my good friend down the ladder and back to the chapel.”

Grandpa had obtained his errand from the Lord, and he knew he was to seek out lost sheep. Just as when the four men who carried their friend with palsy onto a roof and then let him down to be healed by Jesus Christ, so too did Grandpa’s errand take him to a rooftop. The Lord sends revelation to those seeking to help others.

Believe it or not, it doesn’t seem all that long ago since I was a young man. When I was a deacon, the ominous signs of the Great Depression began to appear. Tens of thousands lost their jobs. Money was scarce. Families had to do without. Some young people did not ask their mothers, “What’s for dinner?” because they knew all too well that their cupboards held very little.
My parents were hardworking. They made every penny stretch as far as possible. That was probably the major reason everything they gave me was always two or three sizes too large.
I was 12 years old when I received my first pair of ice skates, so large that I had to stuff a third of the toe space with cotton.
When I took them out of the box, I looked up and said, “Mother, I can’t skate with these.”
“Be grateful for what you have, Joseph,” she’d say. And then, the phrase I had become so accustomed to hearing, “Don’t worry; you’ll grow into them.”
A year later, what I wanted more than anything else was football shoulder pads and a helmet. On Christmas morning I opened my packages, and there they were—shoulder pads and a helmet, except they were sized to fit Goliath, who, by the way, was six cubits or about nine feet tall.
“Mother, they’re too big,” I said.
“Be grateful for what you have, Joseph,” she said again. “Don’t worry; you’ll grow into them.”
Prior to high school I played a lot of neighborhood football. When I put on the new equipment, the shoulder pads hung so far over my shoulders that about the only things they protected were my elbows.
Even though I stuffed cotton and newspaper in the helmet, it jostled every time I took a step. When I ran, it would turn and turn until the only way I could see where I was going would be to look out through the ear hole.
One time I rambled for a long gain at full speed right into a tree. Each time I was tackled, the helmet would spin 180 degrees and I’d get up looking like my head had spun with it. Then I would have to repack the cotton and newspaper as best I could, put it back on, and head back to the huddle.
My father was truly a great man. I remember one day putting my feet in my father’s shoes. I was amazed at the size. Would I ever be big enough to fill his shoes? Could I ever grow into the man my father was? I wondered.
I think back on those days with some tenderness. Curiously enough, I also look back with tenderness to my dear mother’s encouraging words, “Don’t worry, Joseph; you’ll grow into them.”
In a similar way, we all need to learn how to “grow into” our responsibilities as priesthood bearers.

A few weeks ago I was called to the County Hospital in Salt Lake City by a mother. I didn’t know her. She said her boy was dying from polio and asked if I would come down and give that boy a blessing. So I picked up a young bishop whom I generally take with me, for I think his faith is greater than mine, and I always like him along. We went down there and here was this young lad in an iron lung, unconscious, his face rather a blackish color, with a tube in his throat, and they said he had one lower down in his abdomen. He had been flown in from an outlying community. The mother said to me, “This is an unusual boy, not because he’s my child, but he is an unusual boy.” I think he was eight or nine years of age.
After they put the usual coverings on us we went in and we blessed that boy. It was one of those occasions when I knew as I laid my hands upon that lad that he was an unusual boy, and that he had faith. Having faith in his faith, I blessed him to get well and promised him he would. I never heard anymore about him until last Saturday. I was on my way to Murray to conference. I dropped in at the County Hospital, and I asked if I might see the lad. The nurse said, “Certainly. Walk right down the hall.”
As I walked down the hall, out came the boy running to meet me. He ran up and asked, “Are you Brother Cowley?” And I said, “Yes.” He said, “I want to thank you for that prayer.” He added, “I was unconscious then, wasn’t I?” I replied, “You certainly were.” He said, “That’s the reason I don’t recognize you.” Then he asked, “Come on in my room; I want to talk to you.” He was an unusual boy.
Well, we went in the room. He still had a tube in his throat. I said, “How long are you going to have that tube there?” He said, “Oh, two weeks. Two more weeks and then I’m all well. How about another blessing?” So I said, “Certainly.” I blessed him again, and then I was in a hurry. I wanted to get out to my conference. But he stopped me and asked, “Hey, how about my partner in the next bed?” There was a young fellow about sixteen or seventeen. I said, “What do you mean?” He said, “Don’t go out without blessing him. He’s my partner.” I said, “Sure.” Then I asked the boy, “Would you like a blessing?” He said, “Yes, sir. I’m a teacher in the Aaronic Priesthood in my ward.” I blessed him, and then my little friend left and brought another fellow in. Here was another partner. And I blessed him.
Now, except ye believe as a child, you can’t receive these blessings. We have to have the faith of a child in order to believe in these things, especially when you reach college age and your minds are so full of skepticism and doubt. I guess there are some things that you should doubt, but you can become as little children in these things. Miracles are commonplace, brothers and sisters.

When I was in graduate school, to help make ends meet, I took a job flying with the Naval Reserve. Occasionally we were asked to furnish services for exercises with the North American Air Defense Command. We would fly off to some place like Tonopah, Nevada, then turn around and try to make a simulated bombing run on San Francisco before the defense command could get F-106s from a nearby Air Force base up for a simulated rocket run on us. Our job was to see if we could penetrate the air defenses. We did everything we could do to foul up their system.
One time when we were heading for San Francisco, we switched our radios over to what we knew would be the operating frequency of the F-106s. Soon an eager young voice came over on the radio channel and said, “Torchy, Torchy! This is Lover Boy Two. Airborne, standing by.” At that time Torchy was the code name for the radar site on the north side of Mount Tamalpais. Lover Boy Two was the code name for the first F-106 that was airborne, and he wanted instructions.
We came up on the air and told him, “Lover Boy Two, this is Torchy. Angels, Three zero zero”—which means climb to 30,000 feet headed straight west. In just a few more minutes a third voice (the legitimate voice from the radar station) came on the frequency and cried out, “Lover Boy Two! Lover Boy Two! This is Torchy! Reverse course! Reverse course!”
Well, that pilot wasn’t going to be fooled. He was going to stick with that nice friendly voice that had been talking to him from the ground up. So he ignored the second voice and pressed on, heading straight west. Keeping in communication with the pilot, we ran several simulated rocket attacks out over the Pacific, but he never did see them, because they (we) were really 500 miles the other direction.
When we landed and filled out reports, we added, “Ha, ha! Look how we fooled you!” The point was that Lover Boy Two was getting all the advice he could ask for, from a voice that sounded friendly. The problem was, the advice didn’t come from somebody who had his best interests at heart. So we all have to decide whom we are going to listen to in life, because sometimes bad advice will come from friends or someone who sounds like a friend.

Today there are more than a hundred temples all over the world. But when Joseph Smith was commanded to build a temple in Kirtland, Ohio, he had never even seen one! The Kirtland Temple was the first temple built in the latter days.
Since Joseph Smith did not yet know what a temple ought to look like or exactly how it was to be used, Heavenly Father revealed to him a plan for the temple. He and his counselors saw a vision of the completed building. In the vision, Joseph Smith, Sidney Rigdon, and Frederick G. Williams saw the pattern of the temple both inside and out.
When an architect suggested that the seats in the building be rearranged, the Prophet Joseph would not allow it. He had seen them in the vision. According to his mother, Lucy Mack Smith, when the Saints wanted the temple to be built as a frame or log house, he said, “‘Shall we, brethren, build a house for our God, of logs? No, I have a better plan than that. I have a plan of the house of the Lord, given by himself.’”* The temple walls, two feet thick and over sixty feet tall, were to be built of stone.
Constructing the temple seemed nearly impossible. The Saints were so poor that they could barely afford to care for their own families. The magnificent temple cost about $40,000–$60,000 to build, a great sum of money in the 1830s! There were very few experienced builders among them, and none of them had ever built something as enormous as a temple. Also, enemies outside of the Church vowed that they would stop construction on the temple. But the Saints knew that they had been commanded by God to build it and that He would help them: “Verily I say unto you, it is my will that you should build a house. If you keep my commandments you shall have power to build it.” (D&C 95:11.)
The Saints set to work. Men spent one day each week in the stone quarry or on the temple site, and some of them guarded the unfinished temple at night to protect it from mobs. Women spun cloth to make clothing for the workers, and they made carpets and curtains for the temple. Glass and fine china were crushed and mixed with the plaster so that when the sun struck the temple’s outside walls, they glittered. Everyone labored and sacrificed for two and a half years until the temple was finished.
When the temple was dedicated on March 27, 1836, the Lord rewarded the Saints for their obedience. Spiritual blessings were poured out upon them—-people spoke in tongues, heavenly choirs sang, some people had visions, and others saw angels. A pillar of light rested on the temple, and angels were seen on the roof.
One week later, on April 3, Jesus Christ appeared in the temple to Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery. The Savior accepted the Kirtland Temple as His house. Moses, Elias, and Elijah also appeared to restore priesthood keys.
Although the Saints suffered many trials to build the Kirtland Temple, the eternal blessings given to them were well worth all of their sacrifices. Through their faith, diligence, and obedience, they led the way for Church members throughout the world to receive temple blessings today.

For a few brief seconds after he woke up, Steve Caldwell felt fine. He’d been dreaming that he was hairy beyond belief, a recurring dream since his mission and the loss of some of his hair.
Then the memory of the date he’d had the night before thudded into his memory like a lead ball. He sat up on the edge of his bed and gloomily looked out at the snow swirling past his window.
“Big snowstorm today,” his roommate announced. “The interstate’s already closed.”
“Do you know how many girls at BYU have told me that they like me only as a friend?” Steve asked. But his roommate breezed out of the room, leaving the question hanging in the air.
Steve sat and brooded.
An hour later, however, a sudden great idea flashed into his mind, causing him to hurriedly get dressed.
“Where are you going in this weather?” his roommate asked as Steve bundled up in his parka.
“If they can send a man to the moon, the least they can do is give me hair!” With that, he was out the door.
His car wouldn’t start, but undaunted, he trudged through knee-high drifts.
The first thing he noticed about the usually busy BYU health center was that there were no cars in the parking lot. In fact, there was no parking lot, only a field of snow. He climbed over a drift near the front door and walked in.
“I’m sorry,” the girl at the reception desk told him, “but the doctors aren’t in yet because of the storm. You’ll have to wait.”
“For how long?”
“I don’t know. I’m only the receptionist.”
“Do any of the doctors do hair transplants?”
“I don’t know. I’m just the receptionist.”
“I see.”
He walked into the waiting room. It was empty except for a girl reading a magazine while breathing noisily through her mouth.
He sat down on a chair opposite the girl and alternated between reading a magazine about tooth decay and watching her struggle for breath.
She looked up from her magazine suddenly to catch him staring at her.
“You’ve got a bad cold,” he said.
She burst out crying.
“Nothing to cry about. Everybody gets ‘em.”
“It’s not that!” she sobbed, fumbling for a tissue in her purse. “I was going with a guy, and last night he broke up with me. I cried all night.”
“Really? The same thing happened to me last night.”
She stared at him, and then asked, “You cried all night?”
“No. My girl broke up with me, too.”
“It’s rotten, isn’t it? Had you been going together very long?”
“Two weeks,” Steve admitted.
“That’s not very long.”
“It was to her. Last night she told me she could never get serious with a guy who had less hair than her grandfather.”
“How cruel.”
“Thank you. What’s your name?”
“Susan Benson.”
“I’m Steve Caldwell.” He stood up, walked over to her, put out his hand, had second thoughts, and withdrew it. “Okay if I don’t shake your hand? You can’t be too careful these days.”
She looked at him strangely.
“Germwise, I mean,” he clarified.
He returned to his chair. “Well, there are always other fish in the sea, hey?”
“Not for me,” she cried. “I need tall fish.”
He lowered his eyes to the magazine and tried to figure out what she meant.
“I’m taller than your average coed,” she explained.
“You don’t look so tall to me.”
“That’s because I’m sitting down.”
“Oh sure. Well, even so, you’re no King Kong.”
Her lips began to curl downward, and he knew he’d said the wrong thing. Hoping to smooth things over, he added, “I mean from here you don’t look that abnormal to me.”
She started to cry again. He felt terrible.
“I’m not that tall,” she finally said, “but guys don’t date a girl unless they’re at least two inches taller.”
“I’ve never heard that.”
“Have you ever dated anybody taller than you?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve got enough problems.”
She began crying again, and he read the same paragraph about gum diseases for the seventh time.
Finally unable to stand her crying, he put down his magazine. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I’m sure you’re a very nice person.”
She blew her nose and looked up at him. “Do you really think so?”
“Sure. And you shouldn’t worry. There are plenty of tall guys on campus. I mean, just look at the basketball team.”
“There are 47 guys in school who are at least two inches taller than me. Twenty-six of them are already married. Nine are waiting to go on missions. Eight of them are either engaged or going steady with someone else. I broke up with one last night.”
He added the numbers up in his head. “That still leaves three.”
“One is my cousin.”
“Two.”
“One is 42 years old.”
“One.”
“One eats only yogurt and sesame seeds and always carries an orange in his left hand.”
“Zero. I see what you mean. You’re really in a pickle.”
She cried while he read. A few minutes later, he tried again. “I never knew there was so much tooth decay.”
“Where I grew up, we had fluoride naturally in the water.”
“I bet you don’t have very many cavities, do you?”
She started to answer but stopped to touch her cheekbone. “My sinuses are killing me. It feels like my whole head’s been pumped with Jello.”
“I’ll see what’s keeping the doctors.”
On his way to the reception desk, he stopped at a window and surveyed the raging blizzard. It was impossible to see 20 feet beyond the building.
“Nurse?” he asked the girl at the desk, who was listening to her small portable radio.
“I’m not a nurse. I’m just a receptionist.”
“Right. Where are the doctors?”
“I don’t know. The storm may have blocked the streets.”
“Say, have you got anything for that girl? She’s got a sinus problem.”
“This isn’t a drugstore, you know. I’m not a pharmacist.”
“Miss Williams, is that your name?” he said reading the name tag on her uniform. “Don’t doctors get little samples of medicine?”
He walked to a cabinet and opened it. “Do you have a first name?”
“Of course I do.”
He looked at all the packets of medicine.
“You’re not trained to look in the cabinet,” she said.
“Miss Williams, do you have any idea the suffering that poor girl is going through in there? Don’t you have any empathy?”
“If we have any, it’ll be there.”
He finally found a sinus pill. He read the directions out loud: “‘Drowsiness may occur. Use caution in driving or operating machinery.’”
He took a glass of water and the pill back to Susan. She took it and thanked him.
“Why are you here?” she asked.
“I came to get a hair transplant.”
“Do they do that now?”
“Look,” he answered, feeling himself tense up, “they sent a man to the moon. They ought to be able to grow hair on my head.”
“It’s not that bad, really. What are you, 26?”
Steve bit his lip. “I’m 22.”
“Sorry,” she said quickly. “It’s not the hair that bothers me. It’s what people say. They’re so cruel.”
“I know about cruel,” she agreed. “I was five ten in the eighth grade.”
“If you’re tall, you should play basketball.”
“I do.”
“I mean for BYU.”
“I do.”
“Oh. You really are an athlete. I always used to dream about being an athlete. Tell me, do guys ever wait outside the gym and ask you for your autograph?”
“No.”
“That was the only reason I wanted to be an athlete—to sign autographs for girls.”
Susan yawned. “Wow, that pill really made me sleepy.”
A few minutes later, she was asleep in her chair.
Steve finally gave up on his magazine and turned on the TV in the waiting room, but after four commercials, the screen went blank, and he turned it off.
A little later, Miss Williams came into the waiting room. “May I have your attention?” she asked formally as if there were a hundred people in the room. “Dr. Rawlins has asked that I close the health center and send all of you home.”
“Okay.”
“But just after I talked with him, I heard on the radio that they advise everybody to stay where they are.”
“Do we go or stay?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Miss Williams confessed. “What do you think we should do?”
He looked out again at the raging blizzard and said, “We’d better stay.”
“Okay, we stay.” Suddenly she noticed Susan with her head tilted back against the back of the chair, breathing through her open mouth. “Is anything wrong with her?”
“No, she’s just tired. Did you know that where she came from they had natural fluoride in the water? I bet she doesn’t have many fillings in her teeth.”
“Really?” Miss Williams asked.
“I’ve been reading about tooth decay. I wonder if she’d mind if we looked into her mouth,” he said.
They both leaned over and peered into Susan’s open mouth.
“Isn’t that amazing?” he whispered.
“It’s breathtaking,” Miss Williams agreed.
“I’ve never seen teeth with absolutely no fillings,” he continued. “I wish I had my camera.”
“Really.”
“She has a nice face, too, don’t you think?”
“You like her, don’t you?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. I guess we both need someone right now.”
“We don’t get many romances here.”
“Oh, it’d never work out. She’s taller than me, and I don’t have all my hair. People’d always be making fun of us.”
“Do you really care about people who do that?”
“I suppose you’re right,” he said, looking at Susan’s upper molars. “Oh, look! I see a filling way in the back. You have to get down and tilt your head over like this.
Miss Williams also looked. “Where?”
“Way back, where my finger’s pointing.”
Just then Susan woke up, saw them peering into her mouth, and screamed.
Steve grabbed his ears and moaned.
“Why were you looking into my mouth?” Susan demanded.
“We were looking at your teeth,” he confessed.
“Why?”
“The TV wasn’t working,” he answered lamely.
“You scared me to death. I thought at first you both were vampires.”
Miss Williams went back to the reception desk. Steve sat down and picked up his magazine.
“I’m sorry, Susan. I had no right. The least I could have done was ask your permission. You can look at my teeth if you’d like.”
“No thanks.”
“You have amazing teeth. You can truly be proud.”
“I brush regularly and watch my snacks.”
He looked up from his magazine. “I bet you’ll teach that to your children, too, won’t you?”
“Oh, yes.”
“You’ll be a wonderful mother. If you have boys, you can teach them basketball.”
“Girls, too.”
“Oh, sure, it wouldn’t matter, would it?”
“And you could show them how to be interested and concerned about other people …” Suddenly she stopped and blushed. “I didn’t mean to imply that we’d get married.”
“It’s all right.”
“Don’t misunderstand me. I think you’re a nice guy, but it was dumb of me to imply that we’d be married in the temple and have a wonderful family.”
“No, really, it’s fine.” He put down his magazine, walked over and sat down beside her. “Susan, I’ve never said this before to any girl, but I think you’re nice.”
“Thanks. That’s good to hear, especially after last night.”
“You know,” he said, holding her hand, “you remind me of a greyhound.”
“I do?” she asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh, not the bus,” he said quickly. “I mean the dog … that is … I mean … you look like you probably run gracefully.”
“People say that on a fast break heading for the basket, I remind them of a gazelle.”
“One thing’s for sure. Next home game you have, I’m going.”
She looked down at his hand clasping hers. “Is that a very good idea?” she asked quietly.
He looked at her strangely.
“Germwise, I mean,” she added.
“I can take it.”
They sat in silence together for several seconds before she whispered softly, “Steve, could you let go of my hand? I have to take care of my nose.”
While she did that, he stood up and walked to the window. Moving aside the drapes, he saw a seven-foot snow drift.
“Susan, you’ve got to see this drift.”
“Oh, yes,” she said, remaining in the chair.
“No, come here and see it.”
“I’m afraid,” she confessed.
“Snow can’t hurt you.”
“I’m afraid of standing up.”
He turned to face her and asked gently, “You are?”
“When I stand up, you’ll see how tall I am, and I’m afraid that’ll change our friendship.”
“But we can’t go through life together with you in that chair.”
“All right,” she sighed, “but turn around while I stand up and walk to you.”
He turned around.
“I’m walking toward you now, but don’t turn around until I say. Steve, I don’t think of you as a person who’s shorter than me.”
He could tell that she was just in back of him.
“All right, you can turn around now.”
He turned around, looked at her, and whispered, “Good grief!”
She ran from the room. A second later, he ran after her. He heard a door slam, but by the time he reached the hallway, he couldn’t tell which room Susan had entered.
“Where is she?” he asked Miss Williams.
“Second door to the right.”
He ran to the door and tried to open it, but it was locked.
“Susan!” he yelled. “Listen to me! I’m sorry!”
From inside the room, he could hear her crying.
Miss Williams appeared beside him. “I’m sure the medical staff would frown on this kind of activity going on in the medical center.”
“Susan, it doesn’t matter! Susan! Come out so we can talk!”
“No,” a muffled voice answered.
“Susan, if you don’t come out, I’m going to do something drastic!”
Just then the electrical power throughout the building went out as the blizzard raged on.
Susan opened the door a few seconds later. “How’d you do that?”
“It was the storm. The power just went out.”
“Oh, no,” Miss Williams moaned. “What are we going to do now? We’ll freeze to death.”
“We’ll survive! Don’t worry. First thing, get some doctor’s smocks for us to put on to keep us warm.”
A few minutes later, each wearing a doctor’s white smock, they sat down behind the reception desk. Steve took charge. “Now we’re going to tell stories and play games and have a nice LDS get-together until the storm lets up. It’ll be just like a long ward activity.”
“How long?” Susan asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Can we play Simon Says?” Miss Williams asked eagerly.
“Later. First I want to tell you about my mission.”
“Then can we play Simon Says?”
Suddenly they heard yelling outside. The door opened and a student staggered in, his clothes caked with snow. He wearily stumbled to the reception desk, saw Steve, and cried out, “Doctor, you’ve got to help me!”
“Well, actually …” Steve began.
“I’ve been so depressed lately. This morning I even thought about committing suicide. You’ve got to help me, or I don’t know what I’ll do!”
Steve glanced down at the name tag reading Dr. Rawlins on the smock he was wearing, and then up at the student. “What would happen if you couldn’t see a doctor today?”
“Don’t you understand what I’m saying?”
“I see,” Steve said. “All right, I’ll see you. What’s your name?”
“Frank Henderson.”
“Before we start an examination, we need you to fill out a form. Miss Williams, get a form.”
“What form?”
“Any form!” Steve whispered. “Have him fill it out in a room down the hall.”
As Miss Williams escorted Frank down the hall, Steve called out, “Frank, take all the time you want to fill out the form.”
After depositing Frank in a room down the hall, Miss Williams ran back to the reception desk, nearly hysterical. “What are we going to do?”
“Don’t ask me! I’m not a doctor!” Steve said.
“We could phone a doctor and ask him what to do,” Susan offered.
Miss Williams dialed the number and summarized the situation concisely: “Dr. Rawlins, there’s a student here who says he’s terribly depressed! What do we do?” A long pause followed. “I see.” Another long pause. “Yes, doctor.” A few seconds later. “Oh, rats!”
“Oh, rats?” Steve asked.
“The phone just went dead.”
“Well, what did he say before the phone went dead?” Steve asked.
“He said for us not to let him leave the building. Dr. Rawlins will try and find some way to get here.”
Just then, Frank returned with the completed form, which he handed to Steve. “Now what? I’ve had plenty of counseling before, but none of it’s done any good. What do you people do?”
Steve felt all three of them staring at him. He cleared his throat. “Of course it varies with the individual case. There are a number of different treatments possible.”
“Believe me, I’ve had ’em all. What will you do for my case?”
Steve picked up the form and pretended to be examining it. Finally, he cleared his throat and announced as officially as he could, “We could play Simon Says.”
“Oh, good!” Miss Williams said.
“Wait a minute!” Frank said suspiciously. “I’ve never heard of that therapy before.”
“It’s new,” Susan said. “You could say we are the pioneers in Simon Therapy.”
“Okay, everybody line up against the wall,” ‘Steve said. “I’ll be Simon.”
“Really, you should be Dr. Simon,” Frank suggested as they lined up.
“Simon will do. By the way, Frank, why were you so depressed this morning?”
“Because I’m a failure.”
“I see. Well, let’s begin. Susan, Simon says, take two regular steps forward.”
Susan took two steps forward.
“Frank, Simon says, take two regular steps forward.”
Frank wiped his brow, put his fingers over his mouth, and stared at the floor. “No, I can’t do it. You’re trying to trick me.”
“No, I’m not. Go ahead, you can do it.”
Frank took two steps forward. “Look, I did it!”
“Good. Okay, Miss Williams, Simon says, take two tiny steps forward.”
She did so.
“Frank, Simon says, take two giant steps forward.”
“How big is a giant step?” Frank asked apprehensively.
“It’ll vary with the individual.”
Frank nervously ran his fingers through his hair. “No, I don’t trust giant steps. Go on to someone else.”
“All right then. Frank, just take two regular steps forward.”
Frank took the two steps.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Miss Williams yelled. “He walked, and you didn’t say Simon says!”
“Miss Williams!” Steve warned.
“Those are the rules! He has to go back and start all over again.”
“I knew you were out to get me!” Frank yelled.
“Nobody’s out to get you!” Steve yelled back.
Frank slumped to the floor in utter defeat. “I’ve failed again! Everybody is ahead of me, in every class, in every job, in everything!”
“For crying out loud! Frank, get up! Don’t you know that you’ve got to have failures in order to succeed! There’s nothing wrong with having to start all over again. It’s a part of life. You only fail if you quit. And doing yourself in would be the ultimate in being a quitter.”
Frank stared at the floor for several seconds and then said quietly, “But I’ll never be a nuclear physicist.”
“So what?” Steve said. “Neither will I.”
“But it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted to do all my life, ever since I started to watch science fiction movies about the brilliant scientist who saves the galaxy from destruction.”
“What’s the problem?” Susan asked.
“Calculus. I can’t pass first semester calculus.”
“Calculus? What’s that?” Susan asked.
“If I knew what it was, I could probably pass it.”
“Well, you know what they say,” Miss Williams said, “if at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again.”
“I have. This is my fourth time to take it. I flunked the first three times.”
“Oh.”
“It isn’t fair,” Frank complained. “Life isn’t fair. I want to be a nuclear physicist, but I can’t do math.”
“I know what you mean,” Steve agreed. “I want to have lots of hair, but look at me now.”
“And I want to be average in height, and look at me,” Susan added.
“I want to be a nurse, and I’m only a receptionist,” Miss Williams said.
They all went into the waiting room and sat down and brooded.
“So, what do we do?” Frank asked. “Give up?”
“The things that are important to you aren’t important to me,” Susan said. “I mean I don’t care if Steve has a whole head of hair or not. If he hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have paid any attention to it. Life is more than hair.”
“That’s right,” Steve added. “I don’t care if Susan is tall or not. Life is more than being average in height.”
“And I certainly don’t care if Frank is a … what?” Miss Williams added.
“Nuclear physicist,” Frank said. “That’s it!” Steve said. “We’ve all been worried about what we can’t be. What we ought to concentrate on is what we can be! I’m a nice guy, and I like working with people.”
“And I’m a good athlete,” Susan said.
“And a good receptionist is very important to a medical staff,” Miss Williams said cheerfully.
“And I can be a science fiction writer and write about the brilliant scientists who save the galaxy from destruction!” Frank added.
The electrical power went back on, and Frank and Miss Williams hurried to see if the phones were working yet.
Steve and Susan sat across from each other.
“I should apologize,” Susan began. “I’ve been acting as if I were shipwrecked and you were the only life raft in the sea.”
“And I’ve treated you badly,” he admitted.
“You know, I feel much better now. I found out that I was the one who was making height a barrier to my own happiness.”
“And I was doing the same thing, being so self-conscious about my lack of hair that I drove girls away.”
“I can hardly wait to use my new insight to meet other guys.” Susan said grimly.
“Me too,” he added sadly.
Then he walked over and sat down beside her. “Susan, don’t walk out of my life. We should be more than two life rafts passing in the night. Will you go out with me, at least until someone taller comes along?”
“Oh, I’d like that,” she said, suddenly happy. “Besides, I really look up to you.”
Ten minutes later, four snow-mobiles pulled up in front of the building. Dr. Rawlins jumped out first and ran to the door. “I just hope we got here in time!” he yelled to the two policemen following him.
They rushed in to save the day but instead found four students in doctor’s smocks dancing to music from Miss Williams’s portable radio.

One of the important lessons my mother taught me by her example was about praying with a plan. She said it was important to pray that Heavenly Father would guide me. But I should also do my part by having a plan to help my prayer be answered.
One day when I was about six years old, I learned what that meant. I had earned a nickel, so I decided to buy some candy. On my way to the store, I started flipping my shiny nickel in the air. On its way down, I missed catching it, and it fell into some tall grass. My nickel completely disappeared.
I felt very bad, and I decided to pray. I knew Heavenly Father would help me find the nickel. As I finished my prayer, I thought about what my mother had taught me. What plan could I make to help with my prayer?
Suddenly I had a great idea. I would go home and get another nickel. Then I would come back to the exact spot where I had lost my nickel. If I flipped the second nickel in the same way, I thought Heavenly Father could help me find my lost nickel.
I ran home and borrowed another nickel. Then I went back to the spot where I had been before. I flipped the second nickel, this time watching carefully to see where it landed. When I looked down, I saw both nickels lying side by side. I knew that Heavenly Father had helped me.

I was afraid a lot.
I was afraid my dad would kill himself while driving drunk. I was afraid he’d kill someone else when he was driving drunk.
Late at night I would lie in my bed with all the lights out. I would wait and wait to hear his car pull in. I’d pray over and over, “Please help him get home safely. Please don’t let him hit anyone.”
In the morning I’d look at how the car was parked in the driveway. Sometimes it would be barely an inch from the house. Sometimes it would be over into the neighbor’s flowers.
I was afraid he’d embarrass me. He did. He’d wake up from sleeping off a drunk and not really be sober. He’d stumble out of the bedroom. He’d stink of beer. He’d say dumb things. I hated it.
My real friends still liked me. Still, it was embarrassing.
I was afraid my parents would get a divorce. Many times they would have fights when my dad drank. He had a black leather suitcase in his closet. He’d get it out and start packing his clothes. If it were daytime I’d run out of the house. One day I took my dad’s white pocketknife with me. I wanted to have something of his if he left.
Sometimes I was afraid my parents would not get a divorce. I was afraid they would keep living together and I would never have a home that was nice. I thought my mother and I could go live with my grandparents. It sounded so safe.
Fear
Your friend may worry that her dad will get into an accident while driving drunk.
She may be afraid her parents will divorce. Or she may be equally afraid this painful way of living will go on forever.
She fears that her dad may embarrass her with inappropriate behavior.
She’s afraid no one will like her because of her father’s actions.
Of these fears only the last one is within your control. Make very sure your friend knows that you love and respect her. Your friendship can help reduce the corrosive effects of all the other fears.
Fear
Your life is full of fears—fear of a drunken accident, fear of divorce, fear of humiliation—the list seems endless.
I wish I could give you an easy formula for banishing fear, but I can’t. For one thing, many of your fears are well grounded.
I can only give you two bits of advice. First, when you are afraid, pray. Our Father in Heaven knows your fears and can help you master them.
Second, let some trusted adult counselor help you distinguish between real dangers and imaginary ones. With so many real things to fear, there is no room for phantoms.

As difficult as it may be, I would like to pay tribute today to a very noble soul who found the joy in living a life of service.
Our first meeting occurred 30 years ago. I was a newly appointed secretary to the stake MIA. She was a board member from one of the wards. My job was to call the roll at our stake leadership meeting. In those days when we had a standing roll call, I remember a particular evening when I was calling out the various wards. I had no difficulty in making an accurate count of the young men in attendance; then I started on the young women’s roll. Suddenly my eyes met a charming, beautiful young woman. I completely lost my ability to count. I confess to the Church Historian today that those records that are in the archives of the Church are not accurate for that particular meeting.
Eight months later I was kneeling at an altar in the house of the Lord, holding her hand, and hearing the most glorious words ever to be uttered on earth, “For time and all eternity.” I realized that I was receiving the greatest gift of God. I was being sealed in marriage by one having the authority to act for the Lord in uniting myself and my lovely companion together for time and all eternity, if I would but live worthy of her. We had only been married a few days before I found out I had married a woman with great empathy in her heart for her fellowmen. All of those wonderful aromas which came from the air around her kitchen were not all intended for me, for when she would find someone in need, she could not rest until she had made an effort to supply a relief.
I frequently found myself returning home from a busy day’s work, still under great pressures to complete an assignment before the following morning, only to find I had been committed to an act of compassionate service that night. As we would drive to our place of service, I would be mumbling under my breath, “Why me tonight? How will I ever get that job done before morning?” Then we would arrive at the place of service, and I would see the light in her eyes as she would perform her acts of mercy. I would see children dance with joy and parents weep with gratitude for her concern. On the way home I was mumbling a different tune. I was thanking the Lord for the privilege of being there that particular night.
She understood her role in the family organization. She was anxious to fill that which God had intended for her and had confidence and trust that I would fulfill the one designed for me. My responsibility was to be the provider and protector and builder of the home. Hers was to put beauty and love within its walls. When I married her, she was already an expert in her field. I still needed training in mine. During those early years, I am certain, she could have returned a much larger paycheck to the family than I was able to provide. However, when I came home one evening and announced that I had qualified for graduation from college, without even making it a matter of discussion, she marched in to her boss the following morning and resigned. Homemaking, to her, was the greatest of all occupations. Being a mother was the noblest of all calls. Her love and attention and concern for her children were so evident in our homes.
As a family we soon learned to live with the unexpected when an act of charity was involved. We had moved to California several years ago, and while we were preparing our finances to buy a home, we rented one which furnished us with appliances we needed. We had to store ours in our garage waiting for the purchase of a home. One evening in sacrament meeting she heard an earnest appeal from the bishop of our ward to assist those who had lost so much in a devastating flood a few miles from where we lived. As I drove home from work a few nights later, I saw a trailer in my driveway. There was a man tying my appliances on his trailer. I rushed into the house to see what was going on. And I was greeted with the words, “Oh, didn’t I tell you? After sacrament meeting last week, I informed the bishop if anyone needed our appliances for flood relief, they could have them.”
I always knew that if my wife found a stranger in our city at church on Sunday, I could find them in our extra bedroom when I returned home from my Church assignment that evening. A student looking for a room, a father being transferred to a new city, looking for a place for his family, a family returning from an overseas assignment, etc., were always welcome to stay with us until they could find a permanent place of residence.
Even through these multitude acts of kindness, her finest hours were yet to come. Five years ago our lives were shocked with an announcement that she had contracted a terminal disease. Her life expectancy could only be another six months to a year. She accepted this decision with a faith and courage I never expect to see equalled. As the doctor made this announcement to us, she turned to me and said with all the faith and peace that she could muster, “Don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want it to change our way of life or have anyone treat us differently.” Now her life was filled with physical hardship. It seemed to only make her more sensitive for the physical needs of others. Her empathy for her fellowmen increased, for now she had a greater appreciation for need.
Three serious operations followed in very short order. There were only a few who knew about them and they were sworn to secrecy. Her pattern of life in the hospital was always the same. With her careful planning, she would attend church on Sunday, the operation would be performed early Monday morning. By Tuesday, she was trying to get out of bed. By Wednesday she would be up moving around, trying to regain her physical strength. Thursday would find her helping the nurses assist others who were in the hospital. Friday she would spend trying to convince the doctor that she was ready to go home. By Saturday morning the doctor would give up in despair and discharge her. Sunday she would be back in church looking radiant. No one would ever suspect that she had just gone through major surgery. After the meeting I would rush down to take her home to get her some needed rest. And as I would come close to her I would hear her say to someone else in need, “Now don’t worry about a thing. I’ll have dinner ready for you and at your home on Thursday night.”
She placed her illness entirely in the hands of the Lord, and he blessed her with enough strength to endure and just enough energy to live the kind of life she wanted to live. After a difficult night, I would plead with her to remain in bed. Her answer was always the same: “No, I am not going to start that.”
The Lord blessed her with four additional years that medical science could not promise her. How grateful we are for those years, for it was during this period that she was able to stand by my side as we were honored in these present positions. She was able to see, at least in some degree, what she had tried to make of me.
The Lord made it as convenient as possible in his timing to call her home. He waited until I had completed my traveling schedule for the year. And on the first Saturday I had been home in many months, he called her to leave mortality.
Her last acts were so typical of her. She was up preparing breakfast for her family. I heard her drop a dish and give a little moan. As I rushed from my study, thinking she had injured herself, I found that she was suffering from a stroke that was causing her to lose the use of her right arm. I quickly picked her up and carried her in to a little couch I had just recently convinced her that she should have near her kitchen so she could rest during the day.
There was terror in her eyes as the paralysis started to spread down her side. I told her I was going to rush a call to the doctor. She said, “First, give me a blessing.” As I laid my hands on her head that morning, the Lord in his great mercy let me know that her time had come. As I left the room to call the doctor after that blessing, she was literally fighting to move her right arm and her right leg. And the last words I heard her utter were, “I will not live as a half a person.”
Her next two hours, her last in mortality, were the only two I know of in her life that she was not carrying her full load and a little extra for someone else. The Lord in his mercy has let her pass through the veil and relieved her from her anxiety and pain. Now she is whole again, and I am certain paradise is a much more joyful place because she is there.
For the hundreds of messages of sympathy we have received, we express our appreciation. If we had taken time to classify them, I think we would have found that we could have sorted them in two piles that typified and characterized her in her life here on earth. The first pile that we would have sorted—as we heard from the eastern part of the United States—would be something like this: “She gave us our first Book of Mormon and was an inspiration to us. How grateful we are to have known her. We will always remember her gracious hospitality to our family on the day of our baptism. It was such a happy occasion to have dinner in your home on that particular day.”
She was deeply grateful for her membership in the church of Jesus Christ. It was the foundation on which her life had been built. It was her sustaining power, her hope for the eternities. She was anxious to share her witness of the mission of our Lord and Savior with others. A fundamental part of her storage program, which included, of course, the basics of wheat, canned goods, and other inventories, was a supply of a dozen copies of the Book of Mormon. She would count those just as religiously as she would count her other supplies and replenish them in the same order. She used to comment about her inventories: “When we use the food, the inventory is gone. When I make a gift of the Book of Mormon, I never stop receiving the benefit and enjoyment of that gift.”
The second group of letters would read in part this way: “Your wife and mother was my stake leader in Spiritual Living. For one year I met with her for forty-five minutes each month and she had a profound influence on my life. She will always be one of the truly unforgettable people I have known. To me she exemplified spiritual living. She understood the needs of others and sought diligently to supply those needs.”
The Lord has said to us, “Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die, and more especially for those that have not hope of a glorious resurrection.

“And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them.” (D&C 42:45–46.)
I understand this scripture now as never before. Even though there is great loneliness without her, her passing was sweet because of the way she had lived.
In tribute to her today, I recommend to you her way of life. I watched service consume pain. I witnessed faith destroy discouragement. I have seen courage magnify her beyond her natural abilities. I have observed love change the course of lives.
May God grant that her memory will bring satisfaction and fulfillment to your life, I humbly pray in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

The word come is an invitation. It suggests movement from one place to another. Taylor A. knows well the meaning of this word.
Taylor A.
Trek photographs courtesy of Aaron West
Taylor is bright, joyful, and full of the Spirit, but she would be quick to tell you that those words did not describe her two years ago. She has moved to a different place now, spiritually and physically. She is a pioneer.
“I’ve been a pioneer in my life,” she said, “because I’m a recent convert. And my journey has just been amazing. I just feel like it’s a whole new life. And once we take that first step in our journey, miracles happen.”
Not only does Taylor understand the invitation to come—she knows the source of the invitation. She observed, “In our world, we’re so disconnected with what got us here, right? We are so caught up in our jobs and technology, and a message that’s really been hitting me lately is putting Christ first. If we just connect to what the pioneers really did—[they were] centered in Christ.”
Follow is another invitation. On the pioneer trek, Ethan G. gained a greater understanding of this word. “Sometimes I haven’t felt the best on trek, or I’ve felt kind of discouraged,” he admitted. “But I realize that the pioneers also felt that way.”
Ethan G.
Ethan used to wonder why the early pioneers were willing to do what they did. He said, “I feel like I might have just given up. But as I’ve thought about that, I kind of realized that it’s because they loved the Savior, and they have a hope they can become better through Him. I want to try that too.”
Before Ethan went on the trek, he read about pioneers from the past, felt a connection with them, and was inspired by their faith to follow Jesus Christ. And what is Ethan doing now? He is preparing to receive a call to serve as a full-time missionary. True to President Monson’s counsel, he is getting ready to show others the way to follow.
Where should we come? Who should we follow? The Savior tells us: “Come, follow me” (Luke 18:22; emphasis added). When Harmony left home for trek, she saw the Lord’s hand in her experience. She knew she was following Him.
Harmony C.
Harmony’s path to her stake trek was different from others’ paths. At age 15 she learned that she had a rare form of skin cancer. She wasn’t able to participate in her stake trek. “I was devastated,” she recalled.
Four years later, when her stake announced another trek, Harmony was free of cancer. But at age 19, she thought she wouldn’t be able to go. Then she received a calling to participate as a leader. She said, “It’s a testimony to me that the Lord knows who we are, and He knows the desires of our hearts, and if they’re righteous and good, He’ll bless us.”
Harmony offered advice to help us when we face trials: “To anyone who’s struggling, I’d say just to lean on the Lord. He’s always there for you. He loves us, and He won’t let us fall. We just need to reach out our hand to Him, and He will help us on our pioneer journey.”
If you never go on a pioneer trek, you can still be a pioneer. You don’t have to wear a bonnet or pull a handcart. You just need to follow Jesus Christ, as the early pioneers did. In doing so, you will be, as President Monson said, “one who goes before to prepare or open up the way for others to follow.”
If you do have an opportunity to go on a pioneer trek, enjoy it! And when it’s over and you leave your handcart behind, don’t leave your pioneer testimony inside it. Bring that testimony with you.
You are a real-life, modern-day pioneer. With the ultimate Pioneer—the Savior—as your guide, you are sure to succeed!

I remember well an experience I had as a passenger in a small two-propeller airplane. One of its engines suddenly burst open and caught on fire. The propeller of the flaming engine wasn’t moving anymore. As we dropped in a steep spiral dive toward the earth, I expected to die. Some of the passengers screamed in hysterical panic.
Miraculously the steep dive put out the flames. Then, by starting up the other engine, the pilot was able to get the plane under control and bring us down safely.
Throughout that ordeal, though I “knew” death was coming, I was not afraid to die. I remember a sense of returning home to meet ancestors for whom I had done temple work. I remember my deep sense of gratitude that my sweetheart and I had been sealed eternally to each other and to our children, born and raised in the covenant.
The Lord has said, “Fear not even unto death; for in this world your joy is not full, but in me your joy is full” (D&C 101:36).
I realized that day that my marriage in the temple was my most important accomplishment. Honors bestowed upon me by men could not approach the inner peace provided by sealings performed in the house of the Lord.

Soon after, Bengt Erlandsson, interior designer for the Palmyra New York Temple, asked Tom for a sketch of the First Vision. Again, Tom turned to the Lord.
“I was overwhelmed about doing this window for the Lord’s temple right there on the land where the First Vision actually happened,” says Tom. “I went to the Mount Timpanogos Utah Temple for inspiration, and while praying, my mind was flooded with a vision of all 108 windows. I wanted to portray that wonderful light the Prophet Joseph felt in the Sacred Grove.”
Tom sketched the artwork and remembers going to the Church Office Building thinking, What am I doing? I’m just a young man with all these ideas for windows they didn’t even ask for. I must be crazy. But he felt the Spirit prompting him.
Miraculously, Tom’s sketches were approved. With tears in their eyes, Tom and his wife, Gayle, knelt and thanked the Lord for allowing them such a privilege.
With less than four months to complete the 17,000-piece project, Tom worked feverishly, involving youth from his area. “I hired 16- to 19-year-olds who had an open mind and would ask for God’s help,” he says.
On April 6, 2000, Tom and Gayle entered the celestial room for the Palmyra temple dedication. “Everyone was telling me how beautiful the windows were, but the Spirit whispering, ‘I am pleased with the work,’ was one of the most thrilling experiences of my life,” he says.

Many years ago, I was first counselor to a district president in the eastern United States. More than once, as we were driving to our little branches, he said to me, “Hal, when you meet someone, treat them as if they were in serious trouble, and you will be right more than half the time.” Not only was he right, but I have learned over the years that he was too low in his estimate. Today I wish to encourage you in the troubles you face.
Our mortal life is designed by a loving God to be a test and source of growth for each of us. You remember God’s words regarding His children at the Creation of the world: “And we will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them.”
Since the beginning, the tests have not been easy. We face trials that come from having mortal bodies. All of us live in a world where Satan’s war against truth and against our personal happiness is becoming more intense. The world and your life can seem to you to be in increasing commotion.
My reassurance is this: the loving God who allowed these tests for you also designed a sure way to pass through them. Heavenly Father so loved the world that He sent His Beloved Son to help us. His Son, Jesus Christ, gave His life for us. Jesus Christ bore in Gethsemane and on the cross the weight of all our sins. He experienced all the sorrows, the pains, and the effects of our sins so that He could comfort and strengthen us through every test in life.
You remember that the Lord said to His servants:
“The Father and I are one. I am in the Father and the Father in me; and inasmuch as ye have received me, ye are in me and I in you.
“Wherefore, I am in your midst, and I am the good shepherd, and the stone of Israel. He that buildeth upon this rock shall never fall.”
Our prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, has also given that same assurance. Moreover, he described a way we might build upon that rock and put the Lord’s name upon our hearts to guide us through our trials.
He said: “You who may be momentarily disheartened, remember, life is not meant to be easy. Trials must be borne and grief endured along the way. As you remember that ‘with God nothing shall be impossible’ (Luke 1:37), know that He is your Father. You are a son or daughter created in His image, entitled through your worthiness to receive revelation to help with your righteous endeavors. You may take upon you the holy name of the Lord. You can qualify to speak in the sacred name of God (see D&C 1:20).”
President Nelson’s words remind us of the promise found in the sacramental prayer, a promise our Heavenly Father fulfills as we do what we in turn promise.
Listen to the words: “O God, the Eternal Father, we ask thee in the name of thy Son, Jesus Christ, to bless and sanctify this bread to the souls of all those who partake of it, that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, O God, the Eternal Father, that they are willing to take upon them the name of thy Son, and always remember him and keep his commandments which he has given them; that they may always have his Spirit to be with them. Amen.”
Each time we say the word amen when that prayer is offered on our behalf, we pledge that by partaking of the bread, we are willing to take upon us the holy name of Jesus Christ, always remember Him, and keep His commandments. In turn, we are promised that we may always have His Spirit to be with us. Because of these promises, the Savior is the rock upon which we can stand safely and without fear in every storm we face.
As I have pondered the covenant words and corresponding blessings promised, I have wondered what it means to be willing to take upon us the name of Jesus Christ.
President Dallin H. Oaks explains: “It is significant that when we partake of the sacrament we do not witness that we take upon us the name of Jesus Christ. We witness that we are willing to do so. (See D&C 20:77.) The fact that we only witness to our willingness suggests that something else must happen before we actually take that sacred name upon us in the most important sense.”
The statement that we are “willing to take upon [us]” His name tells us that while we first took the Savior’s name when we were baptized, taking His name is not finished at baptism. We must work continually to take His name throughout our lives, including when we renew covenants at the sacrament table and make covenants in the Lord’s holy temples.
So two crucial questions for each of us become “What must I be doing to take His name upon me?” and “How will I know when I am making progress?”
The statement of President Nelson suggests one helpful answer. He said that we could take the name of the Savior upon us and that we could speak for Him. When we speak for Him, we serve Him. “For how knoweth a man the master whom he has not served, and who is a stranger unto him, and is far from the thoughts and intents of his heart?”
Speaking for Him requires a prayer of faith. It takes a fervent prayer to Heavenly Father to learn what words we could speak to help the Savior in His work. We must qualify for the promise: “Whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same.”
Yet it takes more than speaking for Him to take His name upon us. There are feelings in our hearts we must have to qualify as His servants.
The prophet Mormon described the feelings that qualify us and enable us to take His name upon us. These feelings include faith, hope, and charity, which is the pure love of Christ.
Mormon explained:
“For I judge that ye have faith in Christ because of your meekness; for if ye have not faith in him then ye are not fit to be numbered among the people of his church.
“And again, my beloved brethren, I would speak unto you concerning hope. How is it that ye can attain unto faith, save ye shall have hope?
“And what is it that ye shall hope for? Behold I say unto you that ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal, and this because of your faith in him according to the promise.
“Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope.
“And again, behold I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be meek, and lowly of heart.
“If so, his faith and hope is vain, for none is acceptable before God, save the meek and lowly in heart; and if a man be meek and lowly in heart, and confesses by the power of the Holy Ghost that Jesus is the Christ, he must needs have charity; for if he have not charity he is nothing; wherefore he must needs have charity.”
After describing charity, Mormon goes on to say:
“But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.
“Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ; that ye may become the sons of God; that when he shall appear we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is; that we may have this hope; that we may be purified even as he is pure. Amen.”
My testimony is that the Savior is putting His name in your hearts. For many of you, your faith in Him is increasing. You are feeling more hope and optimism. And you are feeling the pure love of Christ for others and for yourself.
I see it in missionaries serving all over the world. I see it in members who are speaking to their friends and family members about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Men, women, young people, and even children are ministering out of love for the Savior and for their neighbors.
At the first report of disasters across the world, members make plans to go to the rescue, sometimes across oceans, without being asked. They sometimes find it hard to wait until the devastated areas can receive them.
I realize that some of you listening today may feel that your faith and hope are being overcome by your troubles. And you may yearn to feel love.
Brothers and sisters, the Lord has opportunities near you to feel and to share His love. You can pray with confidence for the Lord to lead you to love someone for Him. He answers the prayers of meek volunteers like you. You will feel the love of God for you and for the person you serve for Him. As you help children of God in their troubles, your own troubles will seem lighter. Your faith and your hope will be strengthened.
I am an eyewitness of that truth. Over a lifetime, my wife has spoken for the Lord and served people for Him. As I’ve mentioned before, one of our bishops once said to me: “I’m amazed. Every time I hear of a person in the ward who is in trouble, I hurry to help. Yet by the time I arrive, it seems that your wife has always already been there.” That has been true in all the places we have lived for 56 years.
Now she can speak only a few words a day. She is visited by people she loved for the Lord. Every night and morning I sing hymns with her and we pray. I have to be voice in the prayers and in the songs. Sometimes I can see her mouthing the words of the hymns. She prefers children’s songs. The sentiment she seems to like best is summarized in the song “I’m Trying to Be like Jesus.”
The other day, after singing the words of the chorus: “Love one another as Jesus loves you. Try to show kindness in all that you do,” she said softly, but clearly, “Try, try, try.” I think that she will find, when she sees Him, that our Savior has put His name into her heart and that she has become like Him. He is carrying her through her troubles now, as He will carry you through yours.
I bear you my witness that the Savior knows and loves you. He knows your name as you know His. He knows your troubles. He has experienced them. By His Atonement, He has overcome the world. By your being willing to take His name upon you, you will lift the burdens of countless others. And you will find in time that you know the Savior better and that you love Him more. His name will be in your heart and fixed in your memory. It is the name by which you will be called. I so witness, with gratitude for His loving-kindness to me, to my loved ones, and to you, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

“Planning in advance and preparing yourself to live a perfect day is very important. Believe you can do it,” commented Gene. “I was one of those people who didn’t really forget about it, but I just kept hoping it wouldn’t come. I’d never thought of trying to live a perfect day before, and the idea was a little frightening.
“On a scale of 1–10 I would have rated my perfect day about a 6. I was a little better than normal, just because I was conscious and aware that I needed to at least try. But I didn’t really prepare myself, and I didn’t have the kind of day I would like to have had.”
How does one prepare for the day? “Those times in my life when I have felt really close to the Lord are when I have been praying with my family and studying the scriptures. I found that on my perfect day my thoughts would wander. All the garbage I had been feeding into my brain over the past several years seemed to surface on that day. I hadn’t prepared myself to live a good day—a perfect day. I was a failure in the attempt to live perfectly, simply because I didn’t take the time to prepare myself. But even so it made an impact on my life. I’d never even thought of trying to live a perfect day before, but now think of it often—and someday I’ll make it.”