Gospel Story Finder

While most of their southern California peers were out soaking up rays at the beach, the youth of the Glendora California Stake spent their spring break getting dishpan hands, aching muscles, and sore feet from serving at a mission for the homeless in the heart of Los Angeles.
And they wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. “Serving at the mission was the greatest thing we could have ever done for a youth conference,” said Heath Hamilton, 17.
At first, some of the youth were skeptical. Chris Walker, a priest, said, “Lots of people thought that it couldn’t be a youth conference without going away to the mountains or some place like that. Those who went to the mission discovered that this is what the gospel is all about—helping someone else, not yourself. 17 where it says ‘When ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God,’ hit me hard.”
Jeremy Baird, a teacher, said it this way, “I thought this youth conference was going to be a bummer, but it was a great learning experience. At the mission I talked to a man who had been successful in business, but was now homeless and had lost his family as a result of drugs. It taught me that what I had thought about all the people who are homeless is not true.”
Some people were a little concerned about going into the inner city. Caroline James, a Mia Maid, said, “When we first got to the mission, we were scared to get out of the car. After we were there, though, it was real neat talking to the people about the Church.”
Two three-hour shifts of 12 young people each went to the Los Angeles Mission daily, where they served a noon meal and an evening meal to nearly 600 homeless people. They also sorted clothes and helped prepare for the Easter meals.
In addition, the youth filled more than 150 Easter baskets with toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, and other personal hygiene items. Collection boxes had been placed in each ward building and in several community locations to receive the donated items. Some candy and stuffed animals were included for the children, and the baskets were distributed Sunday afternoon.
On Sunday, the youth committee and leaders traveled the 25 miles from their suburban homes to downtown Los Angeles, in two shifts, so no one would have to miss any meetings. Tables were set up next to the Union Rescue Mission, where breakfast was served in the early morning and a traditional Easter dinner was served in the afternoon. Nearly 2,500 meals were served on each shift.
When the bulk of the serving was complete, the youth were invited to sing. “As I Have Loved You” and “I Am a Child of God” brought tears to everyone involved, and “Because I Have Been Given Much” took on a whole new meaning.
“All the homeless there at the mission were reaching out for something in addition to the food we were serving. I know it is the gospel they need,” said Harleigh Williams, 17.
After serving the Sunday meal, many of the youth sat around talking to the homeless. Jeff Fuller discussed Bible points with one man. “This was definitely one of the best experiences of my life,” he said.
“They are all children of God. They gave me great advice on staying away from things by telling me how they got there.”
Of course, the youth conference did include the traditional activities like a “Funniest Ward Video” contest, breakfast prepared by the bishops, workshops, games, and a dance. But at the fireside capping the conference, the main topic of the testimonies was the service project and how it had affected their lives.
“I know that you who had a negative attitude going down there definitely changed your attitude about the needy. It was by far the most rewarding youth conference I have ever participated in,” said Lisa Summerhays, 17, youth co-chair of the conference.
Justin Beck, the other youth co-chair said, “I know the people at the mission have problems, but we still need to appreciate them because Heavenly Father loves each of them.”
Becky Patterson, 17, agreed. “One thing I have learned this week is that everybody is equally important. It doesn’t matter who or where you are; Heavenly Father loves you.”
“The bottom line,” said Sister Arnetus Raymond, second counselor in the stake Young Women presidency who worked with the young people to help plan the conference, “is that we learned that to develop love and unity, we have to serve. Service is the key. Our youth learned firsthand the meaning of serving ‘one of the least of these.’”

Illustration by Allen Garns
Eighteen weeks into my fourth pregnancy, I woke up to some minor bleeding. I felt anxious when the bleeding didn’t stop, so I decided to go to the emergency room.
During the long drive to the hospital, I hoped and prayed that everything would be OK. At the worst, I thought the doctor would prescribe several days of bed rest.
When I was admitted to the hospital, the staff performed several tests. They found that the baby didn’t have a heartbeat. The diagnosis was “fetal demise.” The doctor couldn’t do anything further at that point, so he released me from the hospital.
I went home feeling sad and frightened. I was unable to sleep that night. When I got out of bed the next morning, I was prompted to go to an early-morning endowment session at the temple.
Near the end of the session, my eyes focused on the wedding and engagement rings on my ring finger. They had belonged to the great-grandmother I was named after. She passed away when I was five, and I had recently been reading her life story. I remembered that she had experienced many miscarriages when she was in her 20s.
All morning I had been fighting tears of sadness and fear, but in that moment, I felt a wave of peace. I felt comforted. Great-grandma had passed through similar trials in her life, and the Savior had helped her. I felt the assurance that He would help me too.
“He will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities” (Alma 7:12).
I am deeply grateful for the peace that comes from attending the temple, for a legacy of faithful ancestors, and most of all, for the atoning sacrifice of the Savior Jesus Christ.

Dear Topher,
You asked me in the letter I got from you yesterday if I was afraid to die. I guess I should be, kind of. But I don’t feel scared. Mom told me what Grandma Clanton said before she died about four years ago. She said she would be leaving Mom and the rest of us for just a little while and to not be frightened. She said she’d be happy and that we shouldn’t worry about her. That helped me a lot.
Another reason I’m not afraid is because I have a testimony of Jesus. He died so that we might all live again and so that families can be forever. I have an older brother in Heaven. Maybe I’ll be able to see him. And my Uncle Eugene. And my ancestors. I kind of got to know some of them when my parents were working on their family history. One of them, Nathan Twiggs, carried a chair on his back all the way across the plains—and not just so he would have something to sit on when he got tired walking! His grandfather, Thomas Twiggs, made it and used to sit on it with Nathan on his knees and read the Book of Mormon to him. Dad said it was in that chair that Thomas got his testimony.
If I could choose between staying or leaving, I would stay here on earth for a while because when I think of leaving my family, I feel sad. But Heavenly Father knows best, and Mom said that we were all probably both happy and sad when we left our heavenly parents to come down here.
Oh, I wish I could see that play you are going to be in, Topher! It sounds like it will be fun. I laughed when you said you brought a friend to dress rehearsal and you pointed to Bigfoot and said he was your bishop, and your friend said, “No wonder everyone is so reverent—I wouldn’t want to upset him, either!”
Take care of yourself, Topher. Kiss a kangaroo for me. I think they’re cute.
Your pen pal,
Cindy
Dear Topher,
I’m Cindy’s mother. You probably don’t know me. Or maybe you do, a little. Cindy most likely told you about her family in some of her letters. She’s told us a good deal about you.
Cindy passed away last week, Topher. She wanted me to tell you good-bye and that she would see you later. She said for you to work on your testimony every day because it will help make your trials much easier to bear. And you know what, Topher? It does. It does!
Write us when you can. We would like to keep in touch.
Love,
Cindy’s mom
Dear Cindy’s family,
I cried a lot when you told me about Cindy. Then, well, it’s hard to explain, but a warm feeling came over me. It felt like the sun when it pushes down through a bunch of dark, wet clouds. I know Cindy is happy, just as she said she would be. And what she said about you asking me to work on my testimony? Well, I am. I want one, too, so that when things get hard or confusing I can be strong—and happy, even when I’m sad.
I’ll write again soon.
Love,
Topher

I am acquainted with a family which came to America from Germany. The English language was difficult for them. They had but little by way of means, but each was blessed with the will to work and with a love of God.

Their third child was born, lived but two months, and then died. Father was a cabinetmaker and fashioned a beautiful casket for the body of his precious child. The day of the funeral was gloomy, thus reflecting the sadness they felt in their loss. As the family walked to the chapel, with Father carrying the tiny casket, a small number of friends had gathered. However, the chapel door was locked. The busy bishop had forgotten the funeral. Attempts to reach him were futile. Not knowing what to do, the father placed the casket under his arm and, with his family beside him, carried it home, walking in a drenching rain.

If the family were of a lesser character, they could have blamed the bishop and harbored ill feelings. When the bishop discovered the tragedy, he visited the family and apologized. With the hurt still evident in his expression, but with tears in his eyes, the father accepted the apology, and the two embraced in a spirit of understanding. No hidden wedge was left to cause further feelings of anger. Love and acceptance prevailed.

I have seen how the Holy Ghost can touch a softened heart to protect a humble disciple of Jesus Christ with confirming revelation.

The prophet sent me to confer the sacred sealing power on a man in a small city far away. Only the prophet of God has the keys to decide who is to receive the sacred power which was given by the Lord to Peter, the senior Apostle. I had received that same sealing power, but only by direction of the President of the Church could I confer it on another.

So, in a room in a chapel far from Salt Lake, I laid my hands on the head of a man chosen by the prophet to receive the sealing power. His hands showed the signs of a lifetime of tilling the soil for a meager living. His tiny wife sat near him. She also showed signs of years of hard labor alongside her husband.

I spoke the words given by the prophet: “Under delegation of authority and responsibility from,” and then the name of the prophet, “who holds all the keys of the priesthood on earth at this time, I confer the sealing power on,” and I gave the name of the man and then the name of the temple where he would serve as a sealer.

Tears flowed down his cheeks. I saw that his wife was also weeping. I waited for them to compose themselves. She stood up and stepped toward me. She looked up and then said timidly that she was happy but also sad. She said that she had so loved going to the temple with her husband but that now she felt that she should not go with him because God had chosen him for so glorious and sacred a trust. Then she said that her feeling of being inadequate to be his temple companion came because she could neither read nor write.

I assured her that her husband would be honored by her company in the temple because of her great spiritual power. As well as I could with my small grasp of her language, I told her that God had revealed things to her beyond all earthly education.

She knew by the gift of the Spirit that God had given, through His prophet, a supernal trust to the husband she loved. She knew for herself that the keys to give that sealing power were held by a man she had never seen and yet knew for herself was the living prophet of God. She knew, without having to be told by any living witness, that the prophet had prayed over the name of her husband. She knew for herself that God had made the call.

She also knew that the ordinances her husband would perform would bind people for eternity in the celestial kingdom. She had confirmed to her mind and heart that the promise the Lord made to Peter still continued in the Church: “Whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven.” She knew that for herself, by revelation, from God.

“Good-bye, Mother,” said Ricky. “I’m going for a walk. I’m going to walk to the corner all by myself.”
Ricky walked down the steps of his town house and looked around. The sun was shining high up in the sky. Next door, Mr. Paul was sitting on his front steps. He said, “How are you this fine day, Ricky?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Paul. I’m going to walk to the corner all by myself.”
“That sounds like a good walk. When you come back, would you like to have some cookies with me?” asked Mr. Paul.
“Yes, thank you,” Ricky said. He waved to Mr. Paul and walked down the sidewalk. He looked at the tree in front of Mrs. John’s house. He liked this tree. Its shade felt cool. Ricky patted the tree.
Ricky walked on. What’s that in front of Bill and Becky’s house? he wondered. Ricky got down on his hands and knees to look closer. A whole bunch of ants was trying to move a big piece of bread. Ricky wanted to help them, but he wasn’t sure where they wanted it to go. Besides, he liked to do things by himself, so maybe the ants did too.
When Ricky stood up again, some birds in the next yard flew away. Ricky went over to see what they had been doing. Someone had scattered pieces of bread on the lawn for the birds. That’s where the ants got their bread, he decided.
Ricky walked on and came to the alley. This was the first time that he had ever crossed it by himself. He stopped. He looked. He listened. Ricky didn’t see or hear a car coming, so he walked quickly to the other side. Then he turned and looked back at his own house. It seemed a long way off, but he wasn’t afraid. After all, he had just crossed the alley safely by himself.
Ricky decided to run the rest of the way to the corner. He liked to run. Suddenly he saw a fuzzy caterpillar. Ricky stopped and carefully picked it up. Mother likes surprises. I’ll take it home to her, Ricky decided. Then he walked on toward the corner, carrying the caterpillar gently in his hand.
There’s the mailbox! Ricky said to himself. Touching it meant that he had really gone to the corner all by himself. Ricky gave a sigh of pure pleasure. Now that he had walked to the corner by himself, he would go back and give the caterpillar to his mother and ask if he could have some of Mr. Paul’s cookies. Ricky would tell Mr. Paul about all the things he had seen on his walk. Mr. Paul would like that almost as much as Ricky would like the cookies. They liked to share that way.

Emma K. came from Midvale, Utah, to visit Sister Cheryl C. Lant, Primary general president. Emma and Sister Lant talked about the purpose of Primary while they toured the Relief Society Building. The Relief Society Building is where the offices of the general presidencies of the Primary, Young Women, and Relief Society are. It has beautiful displays about the purpose and history of these organizations.
“What good things are the children of the Church doing?” Emma asked.
“One of the best things they are doing is learning from their scriptures,” Sister Lant said. “Every Sunday, we see children bring their scriptures to Primary. They open them, they read them, and they’re learning directly from the words of the Lord about what He wants them to do.”
“What do you hope they can learn to do more often?” Emma asked.
“We need to be more kind to our brothers and sisters, to our parents, to our friends, and to everybody around the world,” Sister Lant said.
Sister Lant showed Emma a painting of Jesus with children. “Can you think why that’s my favorite thing to look at every day when I come into my office?” she asked.
“Maybe because it shows the love Jesus has for children,” Emma said.
“That’s right,” Sister Lant said. “In Primary, the most important thing that we want to teach the children is that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ love them. All the children in this picture come from different places, so they represent all the children around the world. Heavenly Father and Jesus love all of us, no matter where we live. We’re all His children.”

Years later, after I was married, with two daughters of my own, my mother gave me several boxes of fabric from the magic closet. My husband was a student at BYU, and we were struggling to make ends meet, so the fabric was indeed a blessing.
One day while at a church activity, I turned to see a new family in our university ward. As the young mother walked past, the Spirit whispered, “Give her some of your fabric.” I had learned from my mother’s example, and from a mission to Italy, that to deny the promptings of the Spirit could often bring drastic results. So I found out who the young mother was and invited her to go through my fabric if she would like to. (She later confessed that her children were growing out of their clothes and there was no money to replace them.) As she sorted through the fabric and picked the pieces she wanted, I felt my heart sink. I did not have the money to replace the precious fabric either, and my children needed clothing too. But the Spirit whispered peace, and I knew that things would work out. Two weeks later a ward member came to my home with three large boxes of fabric and children’s clothing. She was moving and wondered if I could use them. I took what I wanted and gave the rest away. Once again my closet was full.
Later that year I gave more fabric away. Again my closet was magically filled by someone else.
One day when I finally realized the more I gave away, the more I received in return, I said to my husband: “The girls need some new clothes. I guess it’s time to give away some fabric.” It worked every time! I either got clothing (in the sizes I needed) or fabric I could use to make the clothing.
The “magic” has continued to this day, and I have since compared it to the parable of the talents (Matt. 25:14–30). As long as I continue to share with those in need, I always have enough for my own needs. When I become selfish and hide my “talent,” it starts to diminish.
My mother’s magic closet is still full of wonderful fabrics. Mine is full also. There are those among us whose magic closets have flowers or vegetables or fruits in them. Others have comfort, and some have friendship to give away. When we finally discover “from whence the magic cometh,” it will be for all of us as in Matthew 25:29, “For unto everyone that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.” [Matt. 25:29]

A number of years ago our family lived in Brazil for a short while. Two weeks before we were supposed to return home, we were in an auto accident. As we drove home in pouring rain from sacrament meeting, we entered a neighborhood intersection. A car pulled out from behind a parked vehicle and hit us broadside. Fortunately no one in either of the cars was injured, but the automobiles were both quite badly dented. As my husband, John, got out to discuss our plight with the other driver, I kept reminding him that it was not our fault. Soon he returned to the car and slowly drove back to the little farmhouse where we were living, with metal grinding against the tires on every rotation. The other car followed. All John said was, “I’ll explain later.”

When we got home, John found our little envelope of emergency cash, and he paid the family to get their car repaired. They happily left. I was astonished. Then John gathered our family together. He was somewhat apologetic as he explained his actions. “I know this accident was not our fault, but as I was negotiating with this family, the only thought in my head was that only a little over an hour ago I had covenanted with Heavenly Father to always act as He would. I knew that if He were standing in my position, He would have had compassion on this family and would have done all He could to help them.” What an exemplary husband and father! He had remembered his covenants. Acting with Christlike love, he had softened hearts.

First, the music. Jake Anderson of the Fenton Ward remembered a bad experience with music at his school prom. He said, “They had one line in one song with cuss words in a row. They quieted the music so everyone could scream out the line. The songs were degrading.” But he knew he didn’t have to worry about that happening here. The disk jockey was a member of the Church and was sensitive to what would be appropriate. Plus, he had help in picking out the songs.
School proms can be very expensive. As a member of the Clarkston Ward said, “You buy the tickets. Some people want limos. You have to pitch in for that. There’s the corsage and tux rental and dinner. It ends up in the hundreds.”
The stake prom used plenty of volunteers including adult leaders and the youth committees from all the stakes to decorate, fix food, and even act as photographers and coat-check attendants. Volunteers also manned the doors as security, patrolled parked cars in the parking lot, and created and distributed party favors. And, of course, because it was held at the stake center, there was no location rental fee.
For prom, girls want to look pretty. They want a great dress and the fun of dressing up. And the guys actually appreciate the dresses more when they are modest. When Briton Moffitt of the Rochester Ward was asked if the girls looked good, he answered firmly, “Most definitely.”
Tiffany Morris of the Bloomfield Hills Troy Ward commented, “Here the guys say, ‘You look beautiful,’ instead of ‘You look hot.’ It seems like a real compliment.”
But modest dresses are hard to find. So where did all these hundreds of girls find modest prom dresses for this dance?
They were inventive and persistent.
“I went online and found a store that sold modest dresses.”
“My mom made it for me, and it turned out really well.”
“I got mine at the Salvation Army. It’s vintage … and inexpensive.”
“Mine is actually a costume from a musical I was in.”
“I bought one and then made a cute jacket to go over it.”
“I borrowed from my friend and bought a short sweater to go with it.”
“I found a cute top, and I already had a long skirt.”
One ward even paired up each girl with a Relief Society sister who could sew, and they made dresses that were nice for a dance and could be worn as a Sunday dress as well.
Groups of girls had great fun gathering to get ready. Lacey Paulson of the Bloomfield Hills Troy Ward said, “We came about two hours early. We were all curling each other’s hair and eating pizza and listening to music.”
Doug Jackson from the same ward was listening to Lacey and shrugged, “I got ready in 15 minutes.”
Brian Henson of the Midland Second Ward was even faster. He jokingly said, “The girls get ready together. Guys, we just shower, play some video games, and five minutes before you have to leave, you brush your teeth and get dressed.”
And how did the guys dress? Some came in tuxedos, but many of them confessed that they had tuxedos because they played in orchestra or sang in school choirs. Brad Jones of the Midland Second Ward said one lady in his ward had some tuxedos she had bought at garage sales. He borrowed one of those.
Many looked great wearing their Sunday suits or nice dress slacks and a shirt and tie.
The dancing at this prom was going to be something everyone could enjoy. Jake Anderson of the Fenton Ward had just attended his school prom and was acutely aware of the difference between the Mormon prom and his school prom. “It’s nice not to worry about the dancing. You don’t have to be in the uncomfortable situation where someone wants to dance with you, and you really don’t want to because you know how they want to dance and you have to say no.”
Many wards had prepared the teens by giving dance instruction during midweek activities before the prom. Most felt prepared to have fun and dance ballroom style. Amanda Rosenhan of the Grand Blanc Ward said, “We dance kind of old-fashioned, and I like that.”
At the end of the night, the teens in Michigan went home with some nice dance photos, a few treats to eat in the car, and memories of a fun evening. This prom was a night to remember, not a night to regret.
Faran Clark of the Lansing Holt Ward said, “A lot more people came than in past multi-stake dances. I guess it’s about dressing up and having a nice night out. You get to primp and look nice.”
And, as her friend Andrea Brown of the Lansing Owosso Ward added, “It’s a good chance for us to realize that we can have fun together and still keep our standards.”

Let me begin with a story familiar to some of you. It goes back to the dedication of another temple, the Salt Lake Temple, which you will recall took forty years to build. President McKay tells of a man who didn’t have money enough even to buy shoes to attend a conference in the Tabernacle. During the conference Brigham Young arose and pied with the brethren that there needed to be more granite brought from the quarry about fifteen miles south. They hauled it mostly by ox team. A man came out from this conference, saw the other brother on the street with a team of oxen. “Why weren’t you there, Brother?” “Uh, my feet. I didn’t feel right about going in.” “Well, Brother Brigham pled for more people to get granite.” “All right,” said the brother, “I’ll go. Whoa, hah, Buck!” And he started.
Man Is a Temple
President McKay’s eyes filled with tears at that simple incident.

I’ve had many jobs in my life. When I was seven, I sold rocks to the neighbors. Then there was the time I took care of a neighbor’s dog for three whole months. But the paychecks for those jobs were nothing compared to the joy I received from my special “job.”
I always went to church each Sunday, but I wasn’t really there. My mind always seemed to be on something else. I enjoyed going but only because I got to see my friends. Church had always been a place to hang out, but after my job it was completely different.
One Sunday morning, I woke up feeling the day was going to be out of the ordinary. My friends and I had plenty to talk about in Sunday School; sadly, none of it related to the Old Testament. Then, right before sacrament meeting, my mom said she had a job for me. I complained for a minute, and then she said, “It will be worth it.”
“A little money never hurt anyone,” I said. But Mom said it wasn’t that kind of pay. She asked if I would walk Sister Clove home from church. I couldn’t believe that she would ask me to do such a dumb job. I wanted to tell her no, but something inside of me made me agree.
After sacrament meeting I went to get Sister Clove, and I told her I wanted to walk her home from church. We both enjoyed it so much that my mom didn’t even have to ask me the next week. I volunteered. After that, Sister Clove and I became good friends. We would walk home together every week, and I loved to hear her stories. Once she even gave me a jar full of candy to let me know I was appreciated.
I know now why the job my mom gave me would be “worth it.” The pure joy of service was so much better than any reward my parents could ever have given me.

Once, I sat in a temple sealing room where I saw a young man and young woman sealed for time and all eternity. I knew the young man, and I knew of the path he had traveled. It was a hard path, full of pain and heartache, but the path was also filled with the Lord's tender mercies and His grace. I looked across the room at the young man's mother. I knew of the pain she had felt for her son, and I could see on her face pure joy as tears flowed down her cheeks. I knew also the path the young woman had walked. I knew of her goodness and her great faith that had sustained her in difficult hours.

As I watched this beautiful scene, there came into my mind a thought I knew was from the Holy Ghost. These are the words I felt: “This is why He did it—this is why Jesus went into the Garden and hung on the cross. This is why He suffered crushing agony and gave His life. This is why Jesus descended below all things—so that this young man, so precious in His eyes, and this young woman, so choice, so beloved of Him, could be clean and worthy, healed and whole, sealed forever by His power as husband and wife in the new and everlasting covenant, heirs to all the promises and all the blessings a loving Heavenly Father could bestow.”

I want you to hold in your mind for just a moment the image of the young man and young woman in the temple of the Lord. Everything about that scene that matters comes from Jesus Christ. They are in the Lord’s house; the ordinance was given by Him; it is His priesthood, His sealing power that joins them forever; the keys of the priesthood that authorize that ordinance are His; it is His atoning sacrifice that cleansed the couple from sin and made possible their entrance into His house.

Thirty years ago I had responsibility for much of the work in the South Pacific. A Brother J. Vernon Monson was called, together with his wife, to journey to faraway Rarotonga in the Cook Islands, there to serve as district president.
Later, in a letter to me, he reported: “We are most grateful for the progress being made, and I would especially like to mention the goodwill and wonderful relations that have developed with the representatives of government and the business community toward us and the Church.
“One thing climaxed the development of this public acceptance,” he wrote. “It was in having our nephew and niece, Dr. and Mrs. Odeen Manning, render an outstanding service here in the Cook Islands. Dr. Manning is an ophthalmologist, and I wrote to him outlining a proposal whereby he might render service to the people of Rarotonga. My proposal included the following: (1) no remuneration; (2) he must pay his own expenses; (3) that he turn his practice over to the other doctors to handle for the three months he would be away; (4) we would furnish them free board and room while in Rarotonga; and (5) that he bring his own surgical instruments, as none would be available in Rarotonga.”
Brother Vernon Monson’s letter to me continued: “The Mannings airmailed their reply in two words: ‘Offer accepted.’ As preparations began, the government of the Cook Islands assigned competent doctors to assist Dr. Manning and to learn from him. In all, 284 patients were examined, with most being fitted for glasses. Fifty-three patients had serious eye operations, such as cataract surgery.
“The entire three-month program was wonderful and most heartwarming. Truly we were blessed. It has buoyed up the Saints, who gained new pride in being members of a faith which would bring medical service to these islands.” The letter ended.
Years later, my wife and I were guests on a BYU-sponsored cruise to the Holy Land. One evening as we were seated on the ship’s deck, the man sitting next to us turned to me and said, “Elder Monson, my name is Odeen Manning from Woodland Hills, California. I am an ophthalmologist by profession and served a brief medical mission to Rarotonga when my uncle and aunt were serving there.”
I acknowledged that I was aware of his sacrifice and his service. I asked Dr. Manning, “As you reflect on this experience, would you wish to share with me your feelings concerning it?”
He responded with emotion, saying, “It was the most spiritually rewarding experience of my life.”
I believe it was more than coincidence that my wife and I would be on the cruise vessel at that particular time and in that particular area of the deck, sitting next to a man we never before had met. Heaven was close as Dr. Manning and I embraced, and thanks were expressed for his service—not only to those who were blind and now could see, but also to our Lord and Savior. As Jacob declared, “Great are the promises of the Lord unto them who are upon the isles of the sea.”

A particularly sacred experience was when the missionaries taught me to pray. I learned that we should address God by name. When we pray, we should speak from our hearts, express our gratitude, and share our hopes and desires. Once we have said all that we want to say, we end our prayer by saying, “In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” We do this because Jesus commanded us to pray in His name. Praying to Heavenly Father helped me know who He is and my relationship with Him—that I was His beloved spirit son. I learned that because Heavenly Father knows and loves me, He would speak to me personally, uniquely, and in ways I would understand through the Holy Ghost.
There was a time when I really could not recognize the Holy Ghost. I misunderstood, thinking that all I had to do was follow the steps of prayer and something dramatic would happen. One day, during a lesson with the missionaries, I stepped out of the lesson to take a break. I was still confused about what I should do with my life if the restored gospel of Jesus Christ really was true.
As I was about to return to the room where the missionaries were waiting, I heard the voice of one of the missionaries. I heard my name. Instead of opening the door, I listened to the voice on the other side of the door. I was stunned. They were simply praying to Heavenly Father. The one saying the prayer was pleading to God that He would hear my prayer. Though his Japanese was not fluent, hearing his sincere prayer softened my heart. I wondered why they cared about me so much. Then I realized that their prayer in my behalf was a reflection of Heavenly Father and the Savior’s love for me. That love gave me hope, and afterward I did ask God in faith and with real intent. When I did, I felt a joyful and peaceful feeling that I was indeed a child of God and that I had a divine potential and destiny. The plan of salvation sank deep into my heart.

One day on the bus on the way home from school, I was telling my friend James how much I enjoy going to church. When I mentioned prayer, James asked me, “What is prayer?”
“It’s a way of talking to God,” I said. He asked me how to pray, and I told him, “First you bow your head, fold your arms, and close your eyes. Then you start with ‘Dear Heavenly Father,’ thank Him for your blessings, tell Him about your day, ask for anything you need, and then end in the name of Jesus Christ.”
James said his own prayer while we were on the bus. I felt happy inside that I had taught my friend how to pray.

While the waterfall project was underway, Brother Kamauoha challenged the young girls to make a path that would lead people from the village to the waterfall. They planned one pathway, but upon inspection they could see it wasn’t right, and so Brother Kamauoha challenged them to try another one. This still wasn’t any good. They reported to him, and he confirmed that it wasn’t right and told them that the reason it wasn’t right was because they hadn’t tried hard enough. “The third time they did their best, and the planned path was perfect. It curved properly, they had avoided the boggy spots, and the entire path was ideal,” he said.
Every evening after school the girls carried baskets of pebbles up from the river and placed them on the path. Each of them would carry 25 to 40 baskets of rocks each evening, and with everyone working, it took only a few months to complete.
Then the boys and girls brought young trees from the mountains to plant beside the trail. They also brought orchids, tree ferns, and other plants to make the trail beautiful. And they named their trail Losa (Rose) Lane.

Imagine having a best friend that you teach, spend every minute with, and then have to give up after only one year. For Jeremy Neff, a deacon in the Ruby Valley Nevada Branch, this scenario has already happened once and is likely to happen again.
Jeremy is a guide dog trainer. His first dog, Elvis, a yellow labrador, became his best friend as he brought him to school, to ward basketball games, and even to the grocery store. But after a year of training, the time came for Jeremy to give Elvis away.
Parting was difficult for Jeremy, but he says he learned a lot and is excited to train another guide dog. “It teaches you to be very patient,” Jeremy says.
It has also opened up many opportunities for Jeremy to answer questions about himself and Elvis. As Jeremy answers the questions, you can be sure he’ll bring up his values and beliefs. After all, Jeremy is an expert in giving guidance.

Like Piero, Andrea Rondinelli of the Rome Italy Stake found the gospel after a life-changing event, the death of his father. “I realized it could not end like that,” he says. He sensed that there must be life beyond the grave and purpose to life and death. He had encountered the Church 15 years earlier when his sisters were baptized. After his father’s death he sought out the missionaries and was baptized 15 days later.
Soon he received his patriarchal blessing. In it the Lord promised him an eternal companion. “While I was looking for her, I prayed a lot,” he says. He wanted a wife who would share a common spiritual purpose with him, and he ended one engagement when his fiancée didn’t want to be sealed in the temple. “I did everything I could to be ready for the moment I would meet my wife,” he says. In answer to one of his prayers, Andrea had an impression that someday he would have a son. This experience helped him be patient until he met Mariela.
Mariela found the gospel in Colombia at age 11. After serving a mission in her native country, she visited Italy. She was surprised—and a little distressed—to feel the Spirit prompting her to stay permanently. “Everything was OK back in Colombia,” she says. “I had a job. I was involved in the Church. I had the opportunity to study. But I felt in my heart that I was here for a purpose, that my role was here.”
Andrea is grateful for that prompting. He and Mariela met two years after his baptism, and today they enjoy the kind of marriage they waited for—sealed in the temple, equally yoked in faith. They continue to build unity by “spending time together, like going on walks,” Mariela says.
Family home evening is also key. “Our son’s baptism involved the whole family,” Andrea says. For months they spent family home evening learning how to prepare for baptism and confirmation and “studying the principles that Daniele was going to embrace. We were all involved together, and we felt very much prepared for the occasion.” Whenever they hold family home evening, the children are involved. “Our daughter, Valentina, leads the music,” Andrea says. He smiles. “She’s very good.” Daniele chooses the hymns and sometimes helps prepare the lessons. “Every Monday is always a beautiful experience for all of our family members,” Andrea says. Such experiences strengthen the spiritual foundation upon which their children and grandchildren may build.

I am grateful to the Lord that my temple memories extend back—even to young boyhood. I remember so well, as a little boy, coming in from the field and approaching the family farm house in Whitney, Idaho. I could hear my mother singing “Have I Done Any Good in the World Today?” (Hymns, no. 58.)
I can still see her in my mind’s eye, beads of perspiration on her forehead, bending over the ironing board with clean paper covering the floor where she worked, ironing long strips of white cloth. When I asked her what she was doing, she said, “These are temple robes, my son. Your father and I are going to the temple at Logan.”
Then she put the old flatiron on the stove, drew a chair close to mine, and told me about temple work—how important it is to be able to go to the temple and participate in the sacred ordinances performed there. She also expressed her fervent hope that some day her children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren would have the opportunity to enjoy these priceless blessings.
These sweet memories about the spirit of temple work were a blessing in our farm home, our little rural ward of three hundred, and the old Oneida Stake. These memories have returned as I have performed the marriage of each of our children and grandchildren, my mother’s grandchildren and great-grandchildren, under the influence of the Spirit in the House of the Lord.