Gospel Story Finder

For some members, financial difficulties turn tithing into a test of faith. Yet members who have overcome that test share their experiences with others, offering encouragement and hope. “When I joined the Church,” says a Santo Domingo leader, “I lived all the commandments except for tithing, but one day realized that I obey commandments because I want to obey and because I know the Lord will help us.” Since that realization, he has paid a full tithe. “I’ve received so many blessings I hadn’t planned on. Now I’m the one telling tithing stories!”

One of the first components in building family faith is the courage to begin a family. Marco and Raffaella Ferrini of the Firenze Second Branch, Florence Italy District, dated each other before serving missions. Soon after returning home, they both felt impressed in the temple that they should marry soon. “In Italy it’s more common to get married in your 30s,” Marco says. Some friends and relatives asked them, “Why are you getting married so young?”
Raffaella also wanted a temple marriage. She says, “To marry in the temple is a good goal,” even though it may be harder to achieve in countries with fewer Church members. “Satan tries to convince us to make wrong decisions, but when we have a good goal clearly set in our minds, Heavenly Father will help us overcome everything so we can reach that goal.” She is grateful that it’s easier to meet Latter-day Saints now than in her parents’ generation. She’s also happy the Lord blessed her with the opportunity to marry “not just a Church member but a worthy priesthood holder.”
Raffaella and Marco showed their gratitude to the Lord by making sacrifices so they could marry when the Spirit guided them to. They planned a simple, inexpensive celebration, and Marco decided to delay finishing his university studies. “Everything is so expensive here that it’s hard to do more than one thing at once—study, work, and have a family,” he says. Financial concerns prompt most Italians to finish school and establish careers before marriage, “but our main desire was to start our family,” Marco says. He realized that only three things were vitally necessary to be able to do so: a job, a place to live, and the faith to move forward. At first “I didn’t get a very good job, but it was enough,” Marco says. “Anytime you have to make a hard decision, you just have to jump in. You go by faith and try your best,” trusting that needed blessings will come. Eventually he was blessed with a better-paying job in the tourist industry, thanks to the foreign languages he learned on his mission. He also has a testimony of paying tithing because his young family has never been in need.
Marco values Church leaders’ counsel to get an education, and he plans to earn his degree when his children are a little older. But for now, “I feel the Spirit telling me that it’s important for me to be with my family. And since my two children, Giulia and Lorenzo, have been born, I haven’t regretted a thing.”
“We don’t have much money,” Raffaella says, “but we are happy.” They are grateful to participate in the plan of happiness and teach its truths to the next generation—the third generation in their family to receive gospel blessings.

For a few months before my mission, I lived with my brother and his family in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. After moving in with them, I found a job working with a crew framing houses.
My first day on the job, my boss dropped me off at the work site and introduced me to my supervisor. Soon I was on the roof of the garage learning how to “sheet” that part of the roof. As I looked on, I noticed that my supervisor might be in danger. He had placed a piece of sheeting down on the framework and had fastened one side. The other side was to be cut off with a Skil saw so the sheeting would fit in place.
As he was cutting, I noticed he was standing on the side that wasn’t fastened. If he continued to cut, he would end up “surfing” off the roof on a piece of sheeting. I kept silent, rationalizing to myself. Since this was my first day, what did I know? He probably knew what he was doing.
It turned out that my supervisor did slide off the roof on the piece of loose sheeting. I watched him, with the saw, fly through the air, landing on the ground on both feet. He looked back up to where he had been with a funny look on his face. I managed to control my laughter when it became clear he wasn’t hurt.
Since that time, I’ve thought more about that experience. Although it seemed funny, I’ve realized how dangerous that situation was. I’ve thought about how I would have felt if my supervisor had been badly hurt, crippled, or killed. I would have felt responsible. I knew something that could have helped him avoid a dangerous situation. I was afraid of what his reaction might be if I told him what he was doing wrong. I felt I didn’t have enough knowledge. But, in truth, I had the knowledge, the power to help save him, and I failed to use it.

Our ward had enough riding enthusiasts to get the outlaw band more or less mounted. We had purebred stallions, ancient hay burners, a Shetland pony, and one reluctant donkey. He was the only member of the cast who didn’t think it was a good idea. We first noticed this lack of enthusiasm when we had to drag him stiff-legged down the road behind my Volkswagen to load him on a truck. If you’ve got 53 horsepower on one end of the rope and one donkey power on the other, you’ve got a toss-up contest that could go either way. But we finally won.
We loaded him and the rest of the horses and outlaws and headed for the hills.
The train route winds through Provo Canyon, then hugs the hillside around Deer Creek reservoir, and cuts through the fields and pastures of Heber Valley. We set up near a grove of trees and waited.
“Here she comes!” shouted the lookout.
I hollered, “Lights! Action! Roll ’em!” (Whatever that means.)
Lights and roll ’em we didn’t get, but action we did. One blast of the engine whistle and every horse sponsored his own Kentucky Derby in his own direction. Only the donkey was left. He was too ornery to be scared. He just stood stiff-legged by the tracks and sang two-part harmony with the train as it thundered by.
The Creeper was a white puff of smoke in the distance by the time we rounded up the last of the horses, so we dubbed in the train scene later. Speaking of dubbing in, try as much as possible to shoot the scenes in order. Rehearse them while looking through the camera; then try to get it right the first take. It will save film costs and editing time later.
Our script called for a brawl scene climaxed by a pie in the face. For this scene we got the bishop’s permission, because he got the pie in the face. Blueberry cream. It was a beautiful scene and performed with excellent taste, the bishop said.
Close-ups and reaction-to-the-action shots help pace the action. And also try to frame your characters as large as practical in the shot unless it’s a deliberate long shot or scenery shot. Mount your camera on a tripod whenever possible. Even though your cameraman lives the Word of Wisdom, he’s got shaky hands.
You can get synchronized sound with some super-8 movie cameras, but this was more trouble and expense than we wanted. We used a silent screen format with printed titles to show the dialogue and credits. You can type these and photograph them with a close-up attachment on the movie camera. Here, especially, use the tripod, We recorded a rinky-tink piano background (put thumbtacks in the piano hammers to get the “tink”). We play the tape whenever we show the movie.
Showing the movie is, of course, the climax, particularly the premiere showing. We staged a variety show titled “Salute to the Silver Screen.” The whole ward was invited (and came), and the kids did songs, dances, and skits based on great movies of the past. (Unfortunately most of the great movies are in the past.) Then we honored the cast and showed the movie. “The Great Train Robbery” will never get an Oscar, but it was a “ward winning” movie.

Finally, let me share a beautiful example of uniting families for eternity. Lydia from Kharkiv, Ukraine, first learned about the temple from the missionaries. Immediately, Lydia felt a fervent desire to attend the temple, and after her baptism, she began preparation to receive a temple recommend.

Lydia attended the Freiberg Germany Temple to receive her endowment and then spent several days doing proxy work there. Following the dedication of the Kyiv Ukraine Temple, Lydia attended the temple more frequently. She and her husband, Anatoly, were eternally sealed there and later called to serve as temple missionaries. Together they have found more than 15,000 names of ancestors and have worked to provide temple ordinances for them.

When asked about her feelings regarding temple work, Lydia says, “What did I receive in the temple? I have made new covenants with God. My testimony has been strengthened. I have learned to receive personal revelation. I am able to perform saving ordinances for my deceased ancestors. And I can love and serve other people.” She concluded with this very true statement: “The Lord wants to see us in the temple often.”

Recently a stake president told of his visit, with others, to a Junior Sunday School class. When the visitors entered they were made welcome, and the teacher, seeking to impress the significance of the experience for the youngsters, said to a little child on the front row, “How many important people are here today?” The child rose and began counting out loud, reaching a total of seventeen, including every person in the room. There were seventeen very important persons there that day, children and visitors!

When school bus number 882 finally turned onto the dirt road, I had never felt happier to see our house.
I was still upset from the argument that had exploded between me and my friends three days earlier. Or should I say ex-friends? Now I thought of them as stubborn and selfish.
When the bus stopped, I marched down the aisle past Connie and Vicki, determined never to speak to them again.
That night I tossed and turned as contention filled my dreams.
By morning I had a headache. I also woke up late and had to hurry to get ready for school on time. I grabbed my books and slammed the front door without saying good-bye to my mom and little brothers and sisters as I ran to the bus stop, arriving just as the bus pulled up.
I walked quickly down the aisle, finding a seat away from Connie and Vicki. I could feel their eyes watching me, but I sat close to the window and pretended not to see them. I vowed that we would not be friends again until they changed.
I reached for my history book to read my assignment. I was surprised when I saw in my hands Pathways to Perfection by Elder Thomas S. Monson. I had grabbed the book by accident as I raced out of the house. It had fallen open to what I needed to read most: a chapter titled “Love As Jesus Loves.” The words seemed to be directed to me as I read Matthew 22:36–39:
“Master, which is the great commandment in the law?
“Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.
“This is the first and great commandment.” [Matt. 22:36–39]
Then these words penetrated my heart:
“And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”
Those verses took on new meaning for me. Tears filled my eyes as I felt my Heavenly Father’s love for me. And I realized that it wasn’t Connie and Vicki who needed to change. It was me!
That morning on the bus I made a commitment to serve and love the Lord through loving those around me.

About nine or ten years ago, I went through a traumatic event in my life. Around the same time, I also went through a divorce. During this time I was beset by stress and anxiety. My physical body also rebelled against the trauma. I had trouble eating and sleeping, I was plagued by nightmares, and I developed recurring shingles, caused by a remnant of the chicken pox virus that I had as a child. My immune system was compromised, and I caught every illness that was being passed around.

Where could I turn for peace amidst this storm of pain and turmoil in my life? During this time I found peace and refuge from my storm in two sacred places: out in the natural world and in the Lord’s holy temple. Thus, desperately seeking that peace, I spent a lot of time in both places.

One of my favorite movies from my childhood is The Sound of Music (1965). In that movie, the star, Maria, receives words of wisdom from the Mother Abbess at the convent, who repeated prophetic words from Psalm 121: “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help.”8

Today I would like to share with you some lessons that I learned from Heavenly Father’s creations that helped me weather the storm from this traumatic event. As I lifted my eyes unto the hills, I gained a more eternal perspective from the natural world.

As Elder Pino said:
The eternal perspective of the gospel leads us to understand the place that we occupy in God’s plan, to accept difficulties and progress through them, to make decisions, and to center our lives on our divine potential.9

I learned how to accept this difficulty in my life and progress through it. I was able to better center my life on my divine potential. I attribute my progress during this time to six important lessons that I learned from the natural world that I study and love so much.

Growing toward the Savior and focusing on Him made all the difference during my time of struggle. I focused on His light. I grew toward it. How did I do it? I made a choice to keep my focus on the Savior every day. I consciously chose to look up, to grow away from the sadness and darkness in my life, and to bathe in the warmth of the Savior’s light.

President Henry B. Eyring added this insight: “When you walk in the light, you will feel at that moment some of the warmth and the happiness that will finally be yours when you are welcomed home again.”12

As I chose to grow toward the Savior—His light—I felt His warmth and love. I learned how to use the Atonement more fully in my life, and I felt Him carry my burdens and sorrows. I gained a broader perspective of the eternities and now look forward with hope for the time—as President Eyring said—when I might be welcomed home.

During this challenging time in my life, I went on a horseback ride into the mountains and saw a tree uprooted from a storm. The tree roots were not deep and firm enough to withstand strong winds.

Besides light, another symbol of the Savior is living water. As I looked at this uprooted tree, I asked myself, “Am I deeply rooted and anchored in living waters?”

An additional way to remain deeply rooted is to make and keep sacred covenants. I made the choice to keep my sacred covenants and renew my covenants each week by partaking of the sacrament.

President Nelson said:
[Our] covenant[s] will lead us closer and closer to Him. . . .
. . . God will not abandon His relationship with those who have forged such a bond with Him.16

And Elder Neil L. Andersen stated, “Making and keeping covenants allows the love of the Savior to sink more deeply into our heart.”17

Attendance at the temple was yet another thing that helped me to remain deeply rooted. I made a specific choice to attend the temple at least once per week. I often went during my lunch break. Sometimes I would sit in the celestial room and stare at the picture of the Savior. Not only did I find peace there, but it helped me to remain deeply rooted in His living water.

I found myself clinging onto the iron rod18 for dear life, partaking freely of the living water. I am thankful that throughout my life I had developed a deeply rooted testimony of the Savior—the Living Water—for it sustained me during that difficult time.

During my stressful time, I learned from the bristlecones that I had to simplify my life and ­concentrate on the basics. I focused first on my relationship with God and on my relationships with my children. I focused on what was most important—personal scripture study, personal prayer, family prayer, and family home evening—and I let the less important things slide. I did only the basic things. I found that I had no energy for anything more than that. I just survived. Doing this was hard for me because I am someone who tries to do everything for everyone. However, as I focused on what was most important and simplified my life, I drew even closer to my Savior, which further helped me during this stressful time. I was able to tolerate the stress.

During the time I was dealing with my traumatic event, I asked a lot of questions. Why did I have to experience my trauma? Why did life have to be so hard? I did not have the answers.

Elder Andersen provided insight on this. He said:
We . . . remain steady and patient as we progress through mortality. At times, the Lord’s answer will be, “You don’t know everything, but you know enough”—enough to keep the commandments and to do what is right.29

Not knowing everything about a particular plant species, its ecology, or its role in the eco­system has been okay for my research program. As I spent time in the natural world, I ­realized that it must also be okay not having all the answers to the questions in my personal life.

I relied heavily on my favorite scriptures:
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.30

Further insight is given in the Doctrine and Covenants:
Search diligently, pray always, and be believing, and all things shall work together for your good, if ye walk uprightly and remember the covenant wherewith ye have covenanted one with another.31

Realizing that I did not need to know everything helped me find peace. I could believe that all things would work together for my good if I walked uprightly and kept my covenants.

In the plant world, seeds often need to be scarified before they can germinate and grow into a beautiful plant. Simply put, scarification is a breakdown of the hard seed coat, such that water can enter. Scarification can be done through digestive tracks of animals, wind, freeze-thaw cycles, mechanically bouncing off rocks, and so forth. Maybe I needed to go through this trauma to become a bit scarified so that the living water could enter.

Regardless, I knew enough, and that knowledge sustained me.

I have been blessed as I have learned to be patient in my prayers for answers both in my ­ecological research and in my personal life.

Elder Peter M. Johnson said in his devotional last fall, “The Lord loves diversity.”34 I have come to learn the importance of a diverse community in the gospel. During my difficult time, I was surprised by the diversity of help that came to my rescue. It came from a wide variety of people and places: a former college roommate living in California provided support, a former country-band bandmate who lived in South Dakota flew out to be there for me, a retired neighbor stepped up to help me with my children when I needed her, former graduate students called during this time and provided collaborations and research help, my bishop came by my house unexpectedly and offered a blessing—and there were many, many more. These people were from diverse socioeconomic positions, diverse educational levels, and diverse cultural backgrounds. Even their relationships with me were from diverse aspects of my life. However, each brought their own unique perspective.

I am thankful that I had built a diverse community around me. My community had a diversity of talents, abilities, and approaches. Each found their own unique way to help me. Some were better able to get through to me at different times than others. However, just like a diverse ecological community, my community came to my aid and provided me stability and refuge amidst my storm. They were able to work in unity and harmony for my rescue.

For me, it is sometimes a challenge to remember to do this in times of hardship, and it was particularly difficult during my traumatic event.

My traumatic event was a real test of my gratitude.

Just as the Lord’s creations and Nephi did, I tried to praise Him all day long. I made a conscious choice to actively look for things to be grateful for each day. For me, maybe it was just a beautiful sunset, good weather for my commute, kids who happily ate their dinner, a class lecture that went well that day, or that none of my kids forgot their homework.

President Thomas S. Monson further taught, “Sincerely giving thanks not only helps us recognize our blessings, but it also unlocks the doors of heaven and helps us feel God’s love.”42

And I felt God’s love. But could I find happiness, as Sister Parkin suggested? Because I remembered to look up and say, “Thank you, Father,” each day, I gradually began to find happiness again, and I gained the eternal perspective that I so desperately needed.

But he wasn’t always so well known. Reared by his grandparents on Kuria, a small dot of land south of Tarawa, Tune didn’t come to the capital island until he was 13 or 14 years old. He had been taught traditional skills, but his grandmother felt he needed a good secondary education. So they came to Tarawa, where a few private schools, one run by a religious group, were located.
His grandmother enrolled him in the religious school. “But then just before school started,” Tune says, “I dislocated my hip playing soccer. I was admitted to the hospital on Tarawa. Unfortunately, a lady using traditional medicine tried to heal me by massaging the hip. Instead, she destroyed it. And then it got infected. I became very sick.
“When the doctors told my grandmother I might die, she called my family to Tarawa. I heard them talking to the doctors one day outside the curtain around my bed. The doctors said, ‘We don’t have any hope. This infection in his hip is very bad, and now it’s getting into the rest of his body.’
“When I heard that, I thought, ‘Wow! They think I’m going to die!’ I was raised a Christian, so I started praying. I said, ‘God, my only hope is You. If You spare my life, I promise to be a missionary. I will spend my whole life serving You.’ Of course, what I had in mind was the kind of missionary you see in the Protestant and Catholic churches. This was in 1972, before the LDS Church came to Kiribati.
“I was flat on my back in bed and couldn’t even sit up. But as I continued to pray, one day I found I could sit. After a while I could stand, then walk. I was in the hospital for two years.” Tune left with a bad limp, but he had survived.
“When I was released, for some reason I didn’t want to go to the Protestant school anymore. I wanted to go to another school called AKAS. So my grandmother enrolled me in 1974. During that year, Eb Davis, the LDS mission president in Fiji, came to our school to select 10 students to attend Liahona High School on Tonga. Attending high school is a great opportunity. Only two groups had gone before. I was older than most and had been out of school for two years, so I didn’t have much hope I would be selected. But I was.
“The big problem for my family was finding the money to purchase the required round-trip airfare. I asked my father, ‘How will you get the money? We don’t have any.’ My father had a terminal illness that left him unable to work, but he said, ‘We’ll get the money.’ My mother sewed for the hospital and had some money saved. My uncle and other relatives also helped. It seemed a miracle, but we came up with the money.
“So there I was in 1975 at Liahona High School. When I came to the campus, I thought I was in heaven. The people were clean, the school was clean, and the men were wearing ties. And then I discovered this was a church school, run by Mormons. I had no idea what a Mormon was, so I asked.
“That first Sunday I started the missionary discussions. Grant Howlett, one of my teachers, taught me. I was really excited. I had promised the Lord I would be a missionary if He healed me, and I knew I couldn’t be a missionary until I joined the Church. I was baptized on 22 June 1975—the first from our group. When my friends asked why I joined the Church so quickly, I said, ‘I couldn’t reject anything they taught. I just felt it was what my Father in Heaven wanted me to do.’
“Two months after I was baptized, the students from Kiribati were asked if anyone was interested in going home to introduce the Church there. I gave them my name. But when they learned I was 17, they told me I was too young.” Six young men accepted the call to take the gospel to Kiribati. They began in late 1975.
“Before they left, I asked them to talk to my parents. They agreed. I also sent many letters to my family bearing my testimony. They accepted the gospel and were baptized.” His grandmother, Tebwebwenikai Ribauea Tune, was the first person in the family to join.
“I finished school in 1978 and still wanted to be a missionary. By then I had also met my future wife, Maii. We decided I would serve a mission; then we would meet in Hawaii and be married in the temple. But I wasn’t sure how I was going to get to Hawaii or finance a mission.”
Tune considers what happened to him over the next few years miraculous. After graduation he stayed in Tonga translating for the Church. A family from the high school helped him go to the New Zealand temple, where he received his endowment in 1979. Within a few months he was serving a mission in Kiribati. After his mission he was able to attend BYU—Hawaii to further his education (he was the first person from Kiribati to graduate from BYU), and it was there he and Maii were married (the first couple from Kiribati to be sealed in the temple). An impression to return to Kiribati instead of accepting a job in the United States led to an encounter at the airport in Fiji with the Area President, Elder John Sonnenberg. A few days later Elder Sonnenberg called Tune to be Kiribati’s district president. President Tune’s ecclesiastic duties took him to Salt Lake City, where he had hip-replacement surgery. Limping no longer, he now outwalks most of those who attempt to keep up with him.
While serving as district president on Tarawa, Tune also filled an appointment as principal of Moroni High School, an LDS high school that resulted from the missionary work of Grant Howlett and his wife, Pat. When the Howletts came to Tarawa in 1976, the AKAS school was having financial and leadership problems. The Howletts supplied the leadership and petitioned the Church to buy the school. Eventually, the Church agreed.
Unfortunately, there was some opposition from people in the government. But the Lord had an agent in place. Baitika Toun, a member of the Church elected to parliament, helped convince several key lawmakers that a school run by the Church would be of great benefit to the I-Kiribati. The Church purchased the school and called the campus Moroni Community School (now Moroni High School).
The school has indeed proved a blessing, not only to the I-Kiribati but to the Church as well. “Moroni High School is seen as the model school in Kiribati,” Tune says. “Our graduates are skilled and have high moral values. They are sought out for responsible positions. And the Church is seen as the model church—in terms of morals, standards, and the focus on the family.”
The Church didn’t always enjoy such a reputation in Kiribati. “When it was first introduced, we were accused of being non-Christian,” Tune says. “We were even tried in parliament. But that just gave us a chance to preach the gospel to the leaders of our country. We cleared up the confusion.”
The school is now educating a new generation of Latter-day Saints who have strong testimonies and are eager to share the gospel. That is one reason the Church is growing so fast in Kiribati. Another is the gospel light that shines in the lives of Kiribati’s Latter-day Saints. “We have high standards and strong families,” Tune says. “People are attracted to that. When I started my mission, there were between 50 and 100 members of the Church in Kiribati. When I finished, we had 500. We now have close to 6,000. That’s about six percent of the population. After only 20 years, the Church had become the third largest denomination in Kiribati.” When Tune was released in 1996 after serving nine years as district president, the district was reorganized as a stake, and he was called as bishop of the Eita Ward (now the Eita First Ward).
It is now near sunset. Tarawa lies somewhere off the bow of Tune’s boat. A few terns and noddies fly past on their way to roost. Tune’s eyes follow them instinctively. The birds fly directly to land at dusk; by following them, a seafarer can always find home. Behind the birds, the sky has turned gold, tinting the sea gold as well. The light reveals a smile on Tune’s face. In the large cooler at his feet are four tuna that decided to join him during the trip home from Abaiang.
“The members here are like the seabirds,” he says. “The Great Fisherman has many fish to catch. We members are the birds showing the missionaries where those people are. And by the lives we live, we show our friends and relatives the way to eternal life.”
At the same time, the members of the Church in Kiribati are themselves among those gathered by the gospel net. If at times they soar in joyful anticipation of heaven’s joys, at other times they dive into the depths of mortal experience. Yet always there is the Light—and the leap of faith into it. At such times, for that brief moment, sea and sky become one.

Those who serve as stake presidents do not seek the office they hold. All are humbled and some are overwhelmed when they are called. As I called a stake president in Europe who had been a member of the Church only about 10 years, he gasped, “Oh no, no, not me. I cannot do it.” Fortunately, his wonderful wife, who was at his side, put her arms around him and said, “Honey, you can do it. I know you can.” She was right, and he served very well.

May I share a personal experience of my wife. While on a stake conference assignment with me, she accompanied a Relief Society president on such a visit. As shepherds and servants of the Lord, they had tremendous success.

Then, about a year later while I was teaching some priesthood brethren how to make such visits, a 35-year-old man told me of my wife’s visit a year ago and said: “May I tell you a secret? My entire family had decided the day before your wife came to visit that we were leaving the Church, offended, never to return. I bear witness to you that we felt the Lord speak through her as she stirred us up in remembrance of God and our ordinances. I’m a member of a bishopric now. I would not be here today if it were not for her.”

He then smiled and said, “How I wish now that I had more carefully watched her invite the Spirit upon me and my family, as it now falls upon me to go out tonight and do my very first home visit.”

Yes, brethren, the sisters can assist in this work also.

My wife's parents, Henry and Ella Poelman were "transition people." Both Henry and Ella came from somewhat uncommitted families who were still learning to consecrate their lives to the teachings of the Church. Henry and Ella each made great personal sacrifices to complete their high school education and had no hope for college. At an appropriate time they were engaged to be married and set their wedding date.
One night, the Bishop asked to meet with Henry. Henry and Ella drove together to the church and Ella waited in the car. During the interview the Bishop asked Henry if he would serve a mission. When Henry shared this request with Ella, they had a major decision to make. They found a secluded place and knelt together in prayer to counsel with the Lord. The decision was made that night that they would build their life on the Savior with a total commitment to do His will. That decision has made all the difference.
Henry served two and a half years in the Netherlands. Upon his return Henry and Ella were married in the temple, and raised six faithful children. Each of you can be a "transition person." Your choices can bless the lives of your children and generations, to come, as promised, even to the third and fourth generation.

In 1984, Elder Bruce R. McConkie described a survey that was given at the Missionary Training Center in Provo.[1] The missionaries were asked to evaluate their own testimonies about ten different truths, including:
I quote what happened next from his biography:
In a very sober tone, Elder McConkie asked: "Would you be interested in knowing which of these [ten] areas was the lowest in terms of testimony?" Everyone nodded. He said: "The lowest area of testimony across elders, sisters, and couples [was]:
...Elder McConkie [then] raised his voice and said: “Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong!”[2]
Brothers and sisters, Elder McConkie is right. If Joseph Smith—and the Restoration of the gospel through him—is not a fundamental part of our testimony, then something is definitely wrong.

Dan wasn’t always as helpful as he is now. The “old” Dan didn’t like to work. He was sometimes disobedient and impolite, and he didn’t study very hard. Then one day his father, Jones, met two Latter-day Saint missionaries on the street. In time, the whole family joined the Church. Learning that he was a child of God gave Dan a new point of view. His baptism and confirmation helped it grow. “I felt forgiven and clean and good,” he remembers. “And since then, the Holy Ghost has helped me do what I should. And when I repent, He helps me know I’m forgiven.”
Seeing himself differently, Dan began seeing others that way as well. “I love my brothers and sisters like I love myself. I would do anything for them,” he says. Dan changed in other ways, too. Barely able to read, he studied hard and became a good reader and a good student.
Brother Balyejusa has noticed a change in all his children. “Since we joined the Church, I don’t have as many problems with my family,” he explains. “We are now like one person. Before, we were divided.”

Lance looked around the Scout camp at the beautiful scenery—jagged mountains, green forest, and the still surface of the lake. His view was interrupted as Cooper, a new member of his Scout troop, walked by lugging his gear. Cooper hadn’t said a word during the drive up to the camp. Lance thought Cooper seemed secretive. Did he have something to hide?
“Maybe it’s just because he’s new to the troop and doesn’t really know anyone yet,” Lance thought.
But he couldn’t help wondering if Cooper could be trusted. Earlier, Cooper had taken another Scout’s pocketknife. The knife’s owner, Cameron, stopped him. “Hey, that’s my knife,” he said.
Cooper looked down. “I have one just like it,” he said. “I thought it fell out of my bag.”
“Why don’t you check your bag?” Cameron suggested.
Lance thought Cooper pretended to look surprised when he found his own knife in his bag. “Oh, sorry,” Cooper said. He handed Cameron’s knife back to him and walked off.
Even though Lance could hardly wait until the next morning to start earning more merit badges, he was also excited about the large cave they were going to sleep in. In the light of the flickering campfire, Lance lay in his sleeping bag admiring the badges he had already earned. He had badges for Environmental Science, Archery, Climbing, Leatherworks, Swimming, and Rowing. While at Scout camp, he planned on earning badges for Fishing, Canoeing, and—
Out of the corner of his eye, Lance noticed someone watching him. It was Cooper. He was lying apart from the others in the dimness of the cave, eyeing Lance’s badges. Lance folded his merit badge sash and put it next to his backpack. Then he turned his back on Cooper and went to sleep.
The next morning, Lance’s Environmental Science and Archery badges were missing! He wished he had zipped his sash inside his bag. Then he remembered how Cooper had been looking at the badges the night before. Lance looked around, but Cooper was nowhere to be seen.
Lance’s heart beat quickly as he searched through Cooper’s backpack. The badges weren’t there. “He probably hid them in a less-obvious place,” Lance thought.
The more Lance thought about it, the angrier he got. He had gone on Scouting activities with the other boys, and nothing like this had happened before. Lance knew Cooper had taken his hard-earned badges.
Outside the cave, Lance saw the Scout leader, Brother Maxwell. Lance approached him and asked him where Cooper was.
“He just went through those trees to take pictures of the sunrise,” Brother Maxwell said. “Can I help you with something?”
Lance explained what had happened. “Cooper has been acting suspicious ever since we got here. First he took Cameron’s pocketknife, but Cameron got it back. Now he’s taken two of my badges. I know it was him because of the way he was staring at them last night. He’s so quiet, like someone who has something to hide.”
Brother Maxwell laid a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “We can’t accuse anyone without proof, Lance. Maybe he’s shy because he’s new to the group. And maybe he was staring at your badges because he’s looking forward to earning some of his own. Let’s go take a look in the cave and see what we can find.”
“I already did, Brother Maxwell,” Lance said. “I looked everywhere, including in Cooper’s stuff. He’s probably taking that walk so he can hide the badges until we’re ready to leave.” Lance suddenly saw Cooper step out of the trees, carrying a camera. “There he is,” he said. “Let’s go ask him.”
“Not yet, Lance,” Brother Maxwell said. “First we’re going to have a look in that cave.”
Inside the cave, Brother Maxwell examined Lance’s sash and studied the area around Lance’s backpack and sleeping bag. “Well,” he finally said, “you’re right about there having been a cave bandit here last night, Lance. But I think you’re wrong about who it was.”
“What do you mean?” Lance asked.
“Judging from the tiny paw prints in the dirt, those merit badges were probably chewed off your sash by a pack rat.”
Lance’s mouth dropped open. “A pack rat?”
Brother Maxwell nodded. “They like to collect objects such as watches, buttons, or, in this case, merit badges.”
“But I’ve got to find those badges!”
The Scout leader smiled. “If we can find the rat’s nest, we’ll most likely find your missing badges.”
After breakfast, everyone searched the area. Before long the bandit’s nest and Lance’s badges were found.
Lance apologized to Brother Maxwell. “I was wrong to accuse Cooper, and to judge him. It must be hard to be the new kid in the group.”
When Lance went back to the cave, Cooper was inside. Once again, he eyed the badges as Lance tucked them inside his bag.
Lance straightened up and turned to Cooper. “I’m going to try to earn my Canoeing badge today. Want to come?”
Cooper looked at the ground, but there was a shy smile on his face. “Sure. I’d like to try too,” he said.
Lance grinned as he and Cooper ran out of the cave into the bright summer afternoon.

Luis Ricardo da Silva can answer that question. At one time he considered himself too unimportant for the Lord to pay attention to him. “I felt, why would God pay attention to someone of no importance like me? But now I know that Jesus loves me. I feel His Spirit, and I know Heavenly Father listens to my prayers.”
He knows because he has had prayers answered. He speaks quietly of times at home and school and church when the Lord has responded to his prayers. One experience stands out: “I was in the temple with friends one day doing baptisms for the dead. We decided to have a prayer in the dressing room of the baptistry. While we were praying we felt something special, as if a light had filled the room and someone else was with us. I had been praying to know that God really lives, and this was my answer. The feeling that I had was powerful. I just knew. Prayer is sacred.”

I had the privilege of visiting with a faithful family of Latter-day Saints in a small nipa hut in the Philippines. In this humble setting a beautiful young woman, fourteen years old, listened intently while her father explained that by saving all the money they could and selling everything they owned, the family would one day have enough to go to the temple, where they could be sealed as a family forever.

It is our faith in the importance of making covenants with God and coming to understand our immense possibilities that the temple, the house of the Lord, becomes the focus for all that really matters. In the temple we participate in ordinances and covenants that span the distance between heaven and earth. They prepare us to one day return to God’s presence and enjoy the blessings of eternal families and eternal life.

Every morning when my mom drops us off at school, she tells us she loves us and then says, “Choose the right!” I always say, “Choose the right!” right back. It makes me feel good to know that my whole family is doing their best during the day to make Heavenly Father happy. A girl in my class is quiet and sometimes scared to talk. I always try to watch out for her at recess and make sure that nothing hurts her.

Don was born with a withered and almost useless right arm. It would have been easy for him to feel sorry for himself and shy away from physical activities requiring the use of two arms. But he has never let it be a problem. If you were to say something to him about his handicap, he would probably answer in all sincerity, “What handicap?” Don plays golf, baseball, and basketball, and is able to compete very well. The withered arm is usually a problem for him only upon first acquaintance. Once you know him you forget all about it. He is a student officer in his high school and has many friends. Don’s parents have never dwelt upon his “handicap.” They expect him to perform well in the things he does, and his ability to meet their expectations gives him a feeling of capability and self-esteem.

As I was watching the Rose Bowl game on television the other day, I had a flashback of something that happened on a high school football field not too far from that Rose Bowl many years ago when I was playing high school football. Speaking of getting off to a bad start, I think I hold the record. It was my first year of high school football. I’d been playing second string all through the practice games, and this was the first big league game. Six thousand cheering people were in the stands. As we were breaking after our halftime pep talk, the coach suddenly said, “Simpson, you start the second half.” The old adrenaline came rushing, and I went charging out onto the field. This was my chance. Just about that time the coach said, “Oh, and by the way, I want you to kick off, Simpson.” I determined right then and there that I was going to kick that ball farther than any football had ever been kicked in history. I really wanted to make a good showing on my first chance on the first string. Well, the referee waved his arm and blew his whistle. I could hear those six thousand people. I looked at that ball and came charging down the field. I felt everything tingling in my body; the excitement was so high. Well, you have probably already guessed it. I missed the ball. Six thousand people went wild. But that isn’t the half of it. This was back in the days when the quarterback held the ball with his finger. I broke the quarterback’s finger.

Now, if you think that you’re off to a bad start, I just want to set your mind at ease and let you know that it could be worse. I also want you to know that I had a coach that had confidence because he left me in. I don’t know why, but he did, and I played the rest of the game. If I weren’t so modest, I might also tell you that I made all-league that year.