Gospel Story Finder

My grandparents’ dog was sick, and they took her to the vet. They found out she had cancer, so they put the dog to sleep. It made me really sad. Then I saw that the Friend had come. I opened it and saw at the bottom of the page Matt and Mandy saying, “Feeling sad? Go to page 24 for the ‘Feelings First-Aid Kit’” (Sept. 2018). I turned to it, and it really helped me. Thanks for making it!
Keilani B., age 9, Utah, USA

But there have been lives lost in fires in homes not equipped with detectors. That’s why the fire department will give the detectors away free. The problem is getting them distributed and installed correctly. The fire department was so pleased when nearly 200 volunteers, young people and their leaders attending the combined Shreveport Louisiana Stake and Longview Texas Stake youth conference, offered to install smoke detectors as a service project.
These youth-conference-attending teens were excited to participate in service that had such immediate and personal contact with the people they were sent to help. Besides installing the warning voice of the smoke detector, the youth wanted to distribute another type of warning call, an invitation to come unto Christ. With that in mind, they each wrote their testimonies of Christ on a sheet of paper enfolding a small picture of Christ. To each person they visited, they would give this precious gift also.
First, the teens and their leaders were divided into small groups of between six and eight. They were instructed in the way to correctly install the detectors. They listened as Captain Jimmy Hall of the Shreveport Fire Department assured them that at least one of the detectors they would install that day would save someone’s life. “You are going to make a difference,” he said as they gathered their tools and headed for their assigned cars.
At first, the groups delivered detectors to those families who had requested them. A small article had run in the local paper encouraging those without detectors to call the fire department. Each group also canvassed the surrounding neighborhood.
“One of the homes where we put in an alarm had a fire last month. It had burned some cabinets in the kitchen,” said Jeffrey Loftin, 15, Brownlee Ward, Shreveport Louisiana Stake. “The project was really personal. Talking to the people was the best. It made me feel like a missionary.”
At first, some people were a little frightened to see a bunch of teenagers gathered outside their doors. “A lady answered the door,” said Melissa Carrell, 16, New Boston Ward, Shreveport Louisiana Stake. “She was scared of us because we were a bunch of kids. But she let us in. She appreciated what we were doing.”
Spreading their testimonies of Christ was a thrilling experience for most of the youth conference participants. They live in a part of the United States where many things are misunderstood about the Church. They often attend schools as one of only a few members. They are constantly having to explain that they are believers in Jesus Christ. “In striving to live my Young Women values,” said Jennifer Malone, 15, Longview Third Ward, Longview Texas Stake, “I’m also striving to teach people the gospel in my own way. I give out copies of the Book of Mormon left and right because it just seems that if I can, I should spread the gospel. It makes me beam with joy when I say that I know, without a doubt, no questions in my mind, that the Church is true.”
Handing out their testimonies with pictures of the Savior offered them a chance to talk to people about their beliefs. In nearly every case, the people listened respectfully to the things these teens talked about. And they spoke of their love for their Savior Jesus Christ. “The Savior’s suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane,” said Kimberly Hester, 16, Marshall Ward, Longview Texas Stake, “helps me to understand that He knows exactly how I feel. I’m grateful for everything He’s done for me and how my prayers have been answered.”
This was the first youth conference Chris Windham, 14, of the Nacogdoches Ward, Longview Texas Stake, had attended. He had fun at the dances, listened to the speakers, and filled up on good food. But his strongest memory might be when his group came to the final house as they installed their last smoke detector. It was Chris’s turn to talk to the homeowner and explain their purpose. Each group member had taken a turn being the one to handle the screwdriver, hold the ladder, or do the talking.
At this house, it was Chris’s turn to talk. He reached for a picture of Christ. It was supposed to have someone’s testimony written in the accompanying paper. But they had run short, and the paper was blank.
Chris handed the picture to the man they had just met. He said, “I don’t have a written testimony to give you with this picture of Christ.”
He paused. The adult leaders, who were standing behind him, glanced at each other. What was Chris going to do?
As Chris said later, the Spirit was urging him to tell this man what he believed. So, without hesitation, Chris bore his testimony with power and conviction to someone he had just met. “I know that Christ lived, and that He suffered and died for us. …”
As Chris spoke, tears sprang to the eyes of the man listening. He carefully held the picture of Christ, with head bowed, and listened to the words of a 14-year-old boy.
For a few days, the LDS youth in these two stakes didn’t feel so few in numbers. They were a force for good, and they pulled strength from being together. They bore their testimonies, in writing and in testimony meeting.
Melanie Paul, 16, Coushatta Branch, Shreveport Louisiana Stake, said about their written testimonies, “These are going to people who may change their lives. I stressed the influence of Jesus Christ in my life. They may never get another chance to hear a testimony from a member of the Church. When you start writing, you aren’t just saying empty phrases. It’s true.”
This group also wanted to take sides against a chorus of bad influences. “The advertising is all aimed at kids our age,” said John Daniels, 18, Queen City Ward, Shreveport Louisiana Stake, “encouraging us to smoke, to drink, to do other things. We need someone on the other side, warning us, telling us where we can go wrong and how to avoid it.”
The voice of warning against the vices of the world may not be as loud and strident as a smoke detector, but for those with ears to hear, it is just as compelling, a voice of warning that may save someone’s life eternally.

A few years ago a faithful family exemplified for members of our ward that same trust in the Lord. Arn and Venita Gatrell were living a happy life when Arn was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. The prognosis was devastating—he had just a few weeks to live. The family wanted to be together one last time. So all the children gathered, some from distant locations. They had only 48 precious hours to spend together. The Gatrells carefully chose what mattered most to them—a family picture, a family dinner, and a session in the Salt Lake Temple. Venita said, “When we walked out of the temple doors, it was the last time we would ever be together in this life.”
But they left with the assurance that there is so much more for them than just this life. Because of sacred temple covenants, they have hope in God’s promises. They can be together forever.
The next two months were filled with blessings too numerous to recount. Arn and Venita’s faith and trust in the Lord were growing, as evidenced in Venita’s words: “I was carried. I learned that you can feel peace in the midst of turmoil. I knew the Lord was watching over us. If you trust in the Lord, truly you can overcome any of life’s challenges.”
One of their daughters added: “We watched our parents and saw their example. We saw their faith and how they handled it. I would never have asked for this trial, but I would never give it away. We were surrounded with God’s love.”
Of course, Arn’s passing was not the outcome the Gatrells had hoped for. But their crisis was not a crisis of faith. The gospel of Jesus Christ is not a checklist of things to do; rather, it lives in our hearts. The gospel “is not weight; it is wings.” It carries us. It carried the Gatrells. They felt peace in the midst of the storm. They held fast to each other and to temple covenants they had made and kept. They grew in their ability to trust in the Lord and were strengthened by their faith in Jesus Christ and in His atoning power.

I had an experience with my four-year-old son recently that taught me a tremendous amount about faith.
It was later than I had planned bedtime to be. We were very close to getting into bed with our bedtime routine done, when my son turned to me and said, “My Lego piece is missing.”
I hurriedly answered that we would find it in the morning. He would not be deterred. “Mama, I need it, or I can’t go to sleep.”
I sighed deeply and barked, “Where did you last have it?”
“Right here,” he answered, pointing to his bedside. “It must have fallen on the floor.”
The floor was covered in books, toys, and other debris from an evening of playing that I hadn’t had time to tidy away. It was hopeless to try and find one little piece of Lego. Again, I said we would find it in the morning. My son turned to me and, with determination etched into his little face, said, “If we pray to Jesus, we will find it!” I was taken aback by his powerful declaration but impressed at the same time.
My four-year-old had more presence of mind than I had as he knew, not hoped but knew, that if he prayed, Jesus would help him find it. So, he prayed to Jesus to find his piece. Despite the prayer of an innocent and precious child of God, I still doubted. I searched for a moment then, humbled by his faith and ashamed of the lack of my own, said my own silent prayer that my Father in Heaven would help me. This moment would be a precious faith-builder in my son’s life that he could look back on, and I could not fail.
A few moments passed, and just as my search seemed hopeless, I lifted a book, and there was the piece underneath. A wave of relief and gratitude filled my heart. My little boy turned to me and said, his face beaming with pride, “See, I told you!” I was humbled by my precious son and his amazing faith.

The first week after my calling to be a bishop on this campus, those many years ago, I interviewed everyone in the ward. I met with an impressive freshman I’ll call Joe. I felt Joe had potential to be one of my future ward leaders. However, over time, Joe gradually drifted to the back row and into the shadows. Five years later, after his graduation, there was a knock at my door. It was Joe. His problem? Pornography. Over time, he had cheated himself and the Lord from his best self. He had spun a life of secrecy, deception, and half-truths. He was afraid to seek help earlier.
Now with honesty, responsibility and humility, we started a process of recovery – to break the cycle of indulgence before his return home.
I later thought of the cost of Joe’s years of pernicious enslavement: diminished spirit, avoidance, alienation, demoralization, no mission, no leadership development, no temple marriage, no significant promises waiting after his graduation into a career. Yes, the loses were significant. Pornography causes a rewiring of the brain’s neural circuits and will contaminate the whole person. Our brain center that controls impulsiveness becomes supercharged, our brain center for willpower shrinks. Our conscience becomes desensitized, our personality will be dulled. Family relationships and decision-making capacities, impaired. Ability to pray, lessened. Capacity to love and the ability to serve others, diminished. Our testimony of the truth will start to slip away, probably so gradual at first that we won’t even realize it is happening until it is too late. Then, we will rationalize evil to be good.

One of our neighbors, an older couple who has since passed away, had such a home. As we entered their home, one or both of them greeted us with a cheerful smile. Their living room was simple, clean, and orderly. They always invited us to sit down and never seemed rushed. They had a few meaningful pictures on their walls—a family portrait, a favorite temple, and some lovely landscapes. Their home was full of light, and we could feel the Spirit in abundance. It reminded me of the simple elegance of the temple, and I desired my home to feel the same way.

Then there is so much fun in Church service. I remember one hot summer evening when we were engaged in a ward building-fund project. We had contracted to supply the food service at a state fair. I was assigned to the dishwashing detail along with Bay Hutchings, another member of our ward. We were working across the counter from the customers who were enjoying our delicious food. There was a call from the cashier’s cage: “Dr. Hutchings, the hospital is calling you.” Suddenly all the forks were suspended in midair. The customers turned one to another and exclaimed, “A doctor washing dishes?” We had to immediately explain that this was a Church building-fund project. No one was being paid for his services. The waiters, cooks, dishwashers, and busboys were doctors, lawyers, merchants, chiefs—all having one great time working together for our project. We must never forget that the wealth, the strength, the security of the Church is our ability to labor together. Let us be a righteous example of this fundamental principle in our homes, our places of employment, our neighborhoods, our communities, our states, and our nations.

Several months ago, my grandson asked his mom, “Why are we here on earth? If God knows everything, then He knows what choices I will make. Why can’t He just send me now to where He knows I will choose to go?” My daughter told him about an institute class she had attended years before. The teacher asked the students, “Why was Abraham commanded to sacrifice Isaac if God already knew Abraham would obey?” After some discussion, the class decided it was because Abraham needed to know that Abraham would obey. My grandson thought about that for a moment and then said, “So, I guess I need to have the experience of choosing for myself.”

When Papa went fishing, he took Caroline’s brothers, Ned and Albert. Caroline stayed home and helped Mama bake bread.
When Papa went woodcutting in the hills, he took Albert and Ned. Caroline stayed home and helped Mama braid rugs.
When Papa went in the wagon to the feed store, he took Albert and Ned. Caroline stayed home and helped Mama can tomatoes.
“I wish Papa would take me sometime,” Caroline said.
Mama smiled and patted her on the head.
Then one chilly night, Caroline was nestled deep in her feather bed when something woke her. Papa was kneeling beside her bed. “Come, little one,” he whispered. “Wake up.”
He wrapped a quilt around Caroline and carried her outside. As he softly closed the door behind them, the big grandfather clock in the hall began to chime midnight.
The cold nipped at Caroline’s nose and ears.
Papa carried her out of the yard, around the barn to the old meadow pond. “Be very still,” he whispered, “and look.”
On the pond were hundreds of geese.
“Wild geese,” Papa said very quietly. “They stopped to rest at our pond on their way south to their winter home.”
Wide-eyed, Caroline watched, snuggling against Papa’s big, warm chest.
Then, after several moments, with a flutter of wings and a honking so loud that Caroline had to cover her ears, the geese rose into the air.
Outlined against the full moon, the V-shaped flock slowly disappeared from sight.
As Papa tucked Caroline back into bed, he said, “In the morning be sure to tell your brothers what we saw”—he smiled in the almost-dark—“while they were sound asleep.”
Caroline smiled back. “I will, Papa.”
She would tell them. She would tell them about the most wonderful moment of her life that happened at midnight with Papa.

I met another young woman whose early spiritual preparation has woven a life of righteousness into many generations.

On a beautiful September afternoon, my husband and I were in the temple awaiting the opportunity to participate in temple ordinances. Chris, a friend of ours, entered the room. It was great to see this young man, who had recently returned from a mission to Russia.

As the session was about to begin, a lovely young woman sat next to me. She was radiant, smiling, and filled with light. I wanted to know her, so I quietly introduced myself. She whispered her name, Kate, and I recognized her last name as a family that had lived in Michigan, where my family once lived. Kate was their grown-up daughter, who five weeks earlier had returned from her mission to Germany.

During the session the thought kept entering my mind: “Introduce Kate to Chris.” I put this prompting aside, thinking, “When, where, how?” As we were preparing to leave, Chris came over to tell us good-bye and I seized the opportunity. I pulled Kate over and whispered, “You are two virtuous young people who need to know each other.” I left the temple satisfied that I had acted upon my prompting.

On the way home, my husband and I discussed our recollections of the challenges that had come to Kate’s family. I have since come to know Kate better, and she has helped me understand the reasons for the joyful countenance I observed in the temple that day.

Kate has always tried to stay on her covenant path by seeking holy places. She was raised in a home where having family home evening, praying together, and studying the scriptures made her home a holy place. As a child, she learned about the temple, and the song “I Love to See the Temple” was a favorite for family home evening. As a little girl, she watched her parents set an example of seeking a holy place as they went to the temple on a weekend evening instead of going to a movie or to dinner.

She loved her father dearly, and he used his priesthood authority to help her make her first covenant of baptism. She then had hands laid on her head and received the Holy Ghost. Kate said, “I was excited to receive the Holy Ghost, and I knew that it would help me stay on the path to eternal life.”

Life continued on for Kate in a very blessed and happy way. When she was 14, she started high school and loved seminary, another holy place to learn about the gospel. One day her teacher started to talk about trials and guaranteed that we would all face them. She said to herself, “I don’t want trials; I don’t want to hear this.”

It was just a few weeks later that her father woke up on Easter Sunday extremely ill. Kate said: “My father was a very healthy person; he was a marathon runner. My mother was so alarmed by how sick he was that she took him to the hospital. Within 36 hours he had a massive stroke that shut down most of his body. He could blink, but the rest of his body was not working. I remember seeing him and thinking, ‘Oh no, it’s happening. My seminary teacher was right. I am having a trial.’” Within a few days Kate’s father passed away.

Continuing, Kate said: “It was so hard. You never want to lose the hero of your life. I knew I could make it a springboard for growth or allow it to be a roadblock. I didn’t want to let it ruin my life, because I was only 14 years old. I tried to be as close to the Lord as possible. I read my scriptures a lot. Alma chapter 40 assured me that the resurrection is real and through Christ’s Atonement, I could be with my father again. I prayed a lot. I wrote in my journal as often as I could. I kept my testimony vibrant by writing it down. I went to church and to Young Women every week. I surrounded myself with good friends. I kept close to caring relatives and especially to my mom, who was the anchor in our family. I sought out priesthood blessings from my grandfather and other priesthood holders.”

These consistent choices, like those of the wise virgin, added oil to Kate’s lamp. She was motivated by her desire to be with her father again. Kate knew her father was aware of her choices, and she did not want to disappoint him. She wanted an eternal relationship with him, and she understood that staying on her covenant path would keep her life woven tightly with his.

The trials didn’t end, however. When Kate was 21 and submitting her mission papers, her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Kate had to make an important decision in her life. Should she stay home and support her mother or go on her mission? Her mother was given a priesthood blessing promising that she would survive the illness. Assured by this blessing, Kate went forward with faith and continued her plans to serve a mission.

Kate said: “It was taking a step in the dark, but while I was on my mission, the light eventually came and I received news that my mother’s blessing was realized. I was so glad that I didn’t put off serving the Lord. When hard things come, I think it’s easy to become stagnant and not really want to move forward, but if you put the Lord first, the adversities can lead to beautiful blessings. You can see His hand and witness miracles.” Kate experienced the reality of President Thomas S. Monson’s words: “Our most significant opportunities will be found in times of greatest difficulty.”

Kate had this kind of faith because she understood the plan of salvation. She knew we lived before, that earth is a time of testing, and that we will live again. She had faith that her mother would be blessed, but from her experience with her father, she knew that if her mother were to pass away, it would be all right. She said: “I didn’t just survive my dad’s death; it became part of my identity for good, and had my mom been taken away, it would have done the same thing. It would have woven a greater testimony into my life.”

Kate was seeking a holy place the night I met her in the temple. Desiring to weave tightly the eternal relationships that come through temple service, she followed the pattern set by her parents of regular temple attendance.

Not much happened the night I introduced Kate to Chris, but in seeking another holy place the following Sunday, Kate saw Chris amid hundreds of young single adults at an institute devotional. There they found out more about each other. A few weeks later, Chris invited her to watch general conference with him. They continued seeking places that invited the Spirit throughout their courtship and were eventually sealed in the temple, the holy place where they were introduced. Both are now fulfilling the sacred responsibility of parenthood, weaving their testimonies of the plan of salvation into the lives of three little boys, showing them the way on the covenant path.

Craig Hannah, 17, has been a pioneer in his own family. “I first got involved with the Church at sports night. I got talking to the missionaries and they persuaded me to come to church on Sunday. It felt good, so I kept coming. They started teaching me the discussions; then they asked me to get baptised. I prayed about it and felt really good about it. So I said yes. And when I got baptised, a few more of my family followed.”

I, too, had the privilege of serving as a stake president. I served as the first president of the Mt. Graham Stake, formed in 1938 from parts of the St. Joseph Stake. Like all of you presidents, I have experienced the sadness as well as the joy of laboring with those in difficulty.
I well remember the flood of September 1941. It rained continually the weekend of stake conference. The day after stake conference the Gila River overflowed its channel and swept through Duncan, Arizona, and environs. After consulting with my first counselor, Vernon McGrath, regarding the Saints’ immediate needs, I loaded my car with goods from the interstake welfare storehouse in Safford and drove the forty miles to Duncan. Arranging matters as best we could there, I walked the eight miles to Virden because bridges were unsafe for cars. I was filled with grief as I viewed the devastation of the houses and the farmland. Yet, in the ensuing weeks, I shared in perhaps the most fulfilling experience of my tenure as stake president. Through the high council and ward bishoprics, we organized for reconstruction. From welfare supplies and local labor we reestablished the people on the land. The contributions of the Saints throughout the area were wonderful, and, as I recall, we did not have to call on the General Welfare Committee for help. We handled it all locally ourselves.

“I didn’t really think I was on social media that much until I was asked to track my usage, and that’s when I realized how much of my life social media was consuming.
“As soon as I started really focusing on reading the scriptures every day, I felt such an eagerness to read the Book of Mormon, and I wanted to learn from it. As I read for 10 minutes each day, I became more and more invested in the stories. About halfway through I decided that, before I read, I would pray that I would find answers to my questions, and without fail I received those answers through the Holy Ghost.
“I know that God speaks to us through the scriptures and that the Book of Mormon is another testament of Jesus Christ. It can truly bless our lives through fervent and prayerful study. I am so grateful for the opportunity I had to participate in this, and I invite everyone to do the same. It was a life-changing experience.”
Sydney B., 16, Arizona, USA

The Church is one of Sue’s greatest sources of guidance and comfort. At youth conference, the bishop challenged all the youth to pray for confirmation that the Church was true even if they already had a testimony.
Sue accepted the challenge although she had some reservations. “I felt I didn’t need to ask because I know the Church is true. But I wanted to tell my friends about my testimony before I graduated. They sometimes tease me about being a Mormon.”
Sue did pray, but the answer didn’t seem to come in a big way. Then she and some friends had to drive to the next town to have their pictures taken for graduation. Suddenly, she was in the middle of an intense conversation about the Church with a receptive friend. The friend asked, “How do you know that it is true, Sue?”
“All of a sudden it dawned on me that Heavenly Father was giving me an opportunity to say that I do know the Church is true. Here I was bearing my testimony, telling her this is the truth. It didn’t hit me until that night that it was the answer to my prayers.
The friend then asked if she could go to church with the Keller family. Soon she was attending seminary with Sue and receiving the discussions from the missionaries. “That’s been the greatest,” Sue said. “I’ve never done that with a friend before.”

I was raised in an active Latter-day Saint family. I went to church every Sunday, read my scriptures every night, prayed every day, and went to seminary and Young Women activities. I even wrote in my journal every day. I thought I knew what the Church was all about, and I believed it was true.
Then one Sunday during an interview, one of the counselors in my bishopric asked me, “Do you have a testimony of this Church?”
“Of course I do,” I replied. Didn’t he know that my parents served actively in their callings, that my brother had just come home from his mission, and that my sister was engaged to be married in the temple? With a family like that, how could I not believe?
He responded, “That is good to know, because I didn’t have a testimony until after I graduated from high school. I always thought I had one, but then I realized that I was leaning on my parents’ testimonies. You need to promise that you will continue to strengthen and nourish your testimony.” I promised him that I would strive harder to make my testimony grow.
On the way home from church, I began to ask myself if I really had a testimony or if I was leaning on my parents’ testimonies.
I recalled a time a few months earlier when I had felt the Spirit so strong. That day I was sure the Church is true. Why had I begun to doubt again? I remembered my seminary teacher telling us that if we ever doubted, to just ask God with real intent, faith in Christ, and a pure heart and we would receive an answer (see Moroni 10:3–5).
That night I went home and prayed and read my scriptures over and over again. “Why am I not getting an answer?” I wondered. My seminary teacher promised I would get an answer. I could feel something, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more proof to know that the Church is true. It couldn’t just be a feeling; I wanted to know for sure.
My answer didn’t come for a while, but it finally came. One night I was reading in the Doctrine and Covenants, and that is when it all came together for me:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.
“Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” (D&C 6:22–23).
So many times I had felt the Spirit. So many times I had believed. So many times I had had an overwhelming love for the Church and the Savior. That was the answer. I already knew, so why keep asking? Why did I not nourish the testimony I had?
I realized I couldn’t just expect the answer to come to me. I couldn’t just read my scriptures; I needed to search them. I couldn’t just pray to Heavenly Father; I needed to listen to His answers.
A few weeks later I found counsel by President Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) that described what I needed to do. He said:
“Your testimony is something that you have today but you may not have it always.
“Testimony is as elusive as a moonbeam; it’s as fragile as an orchid; you have to recapture it every morning of your life. You have to hold on by study, by faith, and by prayer. …
“That which you possess today in testimony will not be yours tomorrow unless you do something about it. …
“… Testimony is either going to grow and grow to the brightness of certainty, or it is going to diminish to nothingness, depending upon what we do about it” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Harold B. Lee [2000], 43).
I know that if I keep listening to Heavenly Father’s answers and searching the scriptures every day, my testimony will be as bright as the sun.

I wasn’t part of the popular crowd at my high school, so my circle of friends was smaller than most. I was so shy that I kept to myself most of the time. I was, as the saying goes, “painfully shy.” Indeed, I was so shy it hurt.
One day as I sat down at my desk in history class, another shy girl sat down behind me. We had spoken to each other prior to this, I’m sure, but I didn’t really know her.
As she set her books on top of her desk, her notebook crashed to the floor beside me. I turned to pick it up and noticed the words Seminary—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on the cover. I reached down and retrieved the binder. As I handed it to her, I timidly said, “Oh, you go to church on Saturday?”
Her face displayed confusion at the question. “No, why?”
I pointed to the notebook cover. “It says, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Doesn’t that mean you go to church on the last day of the week?”
She smiled and giggled slightly. Then she took a deep breath and asked, “What do you know about the Mormon Church?”
I answered quite honestly, “Not very much.”
She inhaled deeply again and asked, “Would you like to know more?”
“Yes, I would,” I replied without hesitation.
At that instant her lower jaw must have hit the floor. Her eyes sparkled, and she looked visibly relieved. I found out her name was Yvonne Anderson, and we became friends. Before long we had set a date for me to meet with the missionaries and receive the first discussion. And when I was baptized, Yvonne was there.
I know that notebook did not fall on the floor by accident. And silly as my first question must have sounded, it was golden: it opened up a way for one shy girl to say to another, “Would you like to know more?”
That day in history class, an instant bond was formed. Because of two golden questions, two shy girls became eternal friends.

In that spirit Brother Broadbent begins with a personal experience:

My wife and I first met Trudi Hoffman [(not her real name) when I was] spending six months as a guest professor in a German university where she was then working as a secretary. Trudi is a very bright, well-educated, widely traveled, . . . German woman of approximately our own age. She was proud to have been personally, albeit adventitiously, recognized by Hitler in her youth as a model German fraulein, and she was more than a little chauvinistic. Nevertheless, she had married a Jewish-American diplomat and had lived for ten years in the U.S. during her early married years. Life for Trudi had provided its full share of problems: family tragedies during and immediately following World War II; her marriage and divorce; her only child, a son, ungrateful and abusing drugs; and exploitative male friends. Thus she acquired a heavy, protective patina of cynicism and worldliness. A less likely candidate to be touched by the Spirit could scarcely be imagined.

She came to visit us following several weeks spent with her son in San Francisco and with friends there and in Berkeley and Oregon. She didn’t come to visit because of any interest in the Church, although she knew, of course, that we were LDS. She came because she had the typical German love for nature. She knew we lived in the relatively sparsely populated and unspoiled Central Rockies, and we loved nature too. She was amiable, naturally, but she kept her guard up letting us know diplomatically, but firmly, that she really wasn’t interested in our culture or religion. She maintained the barrier essentially intact through nearly a week in spite of attending Sunday services, which puzzled her, and enjoying a Labor Day family reunion with us, complete with a multitude of small grandchildren under foot, which offended her convictions about strict population control, although she was solicitous of the tiny ones, and I think she was secretly envious of our large family.

But all the barriers came tumbling down, precipitously—the worldliness and the cynicism—after her tour of our campus in the company of my wife and under the guidance of the Hosting Center. . . . During lunch [with my wife and me] she decided she wanted to repeat the tour, this time alone. Perhaps she doubted her initial impressions or feared the experience was just a fluke. . . . After all, she wasn’t born yesterday. She had been on many college campuses for extended periods in many places. But the second tour confirmed the first. She was truly impressed, almost against her will. There were several factors: the personable young man at the Hosting Center who happened to speak excellent German, the beautiful campus, the buildings ([she] is something of an authority on architecture and once worked as secretary for Ludwig Mies van der Rohe), the retrospective slideshow, but the overwhelmingly dominant fact was the transparent wholesomeness, love, and goodwill, truly the light of Christ shining through the countenances of the people she encountered. It permeates our environment and conditions every human relationship in work, play, and worship. However imperfect, to a considerable degree it does model those “Zion” societies celebrated in the scriptures, old and new. . . .

It made me half ashamed to realize that I had become so accustomed to it that I had allowed myself to become a little cynical, insensitive, and unappreciative, and that it took a person from “another world” to refocus my attention. It made me proud once more to be a part of BYU. . . .

When gold was discovered in California in January of 1848, men of the Mormon Battalion were there and participated in the discovery. Completing their contract, they came to the Salt Lake Valley to join their families. Some of them brought with them gold; and in the hard and desperate days that followed, particularly in the bitter winter of 1848–49, many wanted to go to California where life was easier and gold was to be picked from the riverbeds. In that time of gloom, Brigham Young stood before the people in the old Bowery on Temple Square and said:

Some have asked me about going. I have told them that God has appointed this place for the gathering of his Saints, and you will do better right here than you will by going to the gold mines. . . .

We have been kicked out of the frying pan into the fire, out of the fire into the middle of the floor, and here we are and here we will stay. God has shown me that this is the spot to locate his people, and here is where they will prosper. . . .

. . . We shall build a city and a temple to the Most High God in this place. We will extend our settlements to the east and west, to the north and to the south, and we will build towns and cities by the hundreds, and thousands of the Saints will gather in from the nations of the earth. This will become the great highway of the nations. Kings and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth will visit us here, while the wicked and ungodly will envy us our comfortable homes and possessions. [Autobiography of James S. Brown (Life of a Pioneer), pp. 119–23, cited by Preston Nibley, Brigham Young: The Man and His Work (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1936), pp. 127–28]

What a remarkable statement under such circumstances! My heart goes out to those who were cold and hungry that winter of 1849. I am confident there was much of grumbling and criticism, and understandably so. But how marvelous when a man looked beyond the winter and spoke as a prophet, under the power of the Holy Spirit, of better days to come. Those days have come. This has become one of the great highways of the nations. Millions come to Temple Square. There are hundreds of flights daily in and out of here. Kings and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth visit us here. There’s scarcely a week when we do not have some prominent world figure call on us.

An apostle of the Lord made me a promise. “The Lord God will not leave you alone, nor will he be in debt. This you can count on.”
Those were the comforting words of Elder Richard L. Evans of the Quorum of the Twelve as he spoke at funeral services for my young husband. The “compensation” he spoke of was beyond my comprehension, and the thought remained in my memory for years. I could not see the end from the beginning.
That we are not alone, however, and that a loving Father in Heaven hears our prayers was more tangible. Our five children, ages four through sixteen, understood this. Their father, whose career had been in broadcasting, had often taught that their voices and thoughts are audible to the Lord, that they could reach the Lord through prayer if their lives were tuned in to the right frequency. Little David, the youngest, prayed at his grandmother’s knee on that first lonely night, “Please bless my daddy, so he will be well when I get there.”
We were on a family vacation in Utah when my husband died of a sudden heart attack. Still numb from shock, I faced my first major decision. Our home was three thousand kilometers away in Washington, D.C. “What do we do now?” I wondered. “Do we move back to Utah among family and old friends, or do we stay is Washington where we had established our home?” My ninety-two-year-old grandfather, a wise patriarch of a large family, offered good counsel. “Go back home to Washington for the present,” he said. “It is not wise to uproot your family until you think it through for at least a year.”
It was not a difficult decision to make. Our home, with its familiar surroundings, was a haven, and there was a memory in every room. It would have been more difficult for us to start over somewhere else.
Also, the Church in the Washington D.C. area was strong and growing fast. Members from adults to grade-school children felt a strong sense of identity with the Church. The opportunity to identify oneself as a Latter-day Saint promoted awareness of doctrine and practices and, through commitment to covenants, helped build strong testimonies of the gospel.
There was a feeling of missionary excitement. Our neighborhood is filled with beautiful churches of various Christian denominations. In the months and years after we returned to our home, school friends who were members of those churches invited our children to speak to their youth groups about Mormonism, and the interest and questions of the young people and their religious leaders challenged our children to expand their knowledge and test their faith. Many close friendships and several conversions resulted.
Looking back, I see the wisdom of remaining among supportive neighborhood, school, and Church friends. The great loss we had suffered did not disrupt the stability of our lives.
There was little time for grief that first year. The awesome responsibilities of my new role as sole parent were overwhelming. Ralph had been very much in charge, and I relied heavily on his judgment and leadership. Attempting to establish my authority was of prime importance. The children thought they were very funny when they made birthday and Mother’s Day cards depicting me in a general’s uniform. However, I knew my authority was finally recognized when I overheard one small child say to another, “What are Mother and Daddy going to do when they get together again, now that Mother’s the boss?”
But there was a special presence in our home. Father was considered to be out of reach but not out of touch. I realized this one day when teen-aged Alison said, “Mother, I can always get out of your range, but I can’t get out of Daddy’s.” This was a positive moment that reminded me of Elder Evans’ promise.
Our youngest child insists that he never felt fatherless. His departed father was always a real person to him, and he intuitively understood the eternal nature of the family unit long before he learned about the covenants and promises that can ensure its endurance. This awareness also translated into a desire on the part of our children to prove themselves so as not to disappoint the father they had come to idealize. As for me, I was determined to succeed in my stewardship. I could not fail my eternal partner or my Eternal Father. Our purpose bound us even closer together as a family as we shared our trials and successes.
Temple marriage was a subject of special interest. It was an anchor to which we could hold and a prize that all would one day attain. Our primary motivation was that we might all serve the Lord’s purposes so as to be reunited as a family once again.
A second major problem that had to be resolved soon after Ralph’s death was how to provide for my family. This is probably the most crucial and frightening reality that most newly-widowed mothers face. My options were whether to use our insufficient financial resources until they were gone, and then decide how to support the family, or to find employment in the near future and keep some funds in reserve. I chose the latter. Fortunately, it was possible for me to be away during the day because all the children were in school, and an older daughter was responsible until I arrived home. The children’s acceptance of this new situation and their faith in me was viewed as “God’s in his heaven and Mother will provide.”
I had limited qualifications, having married before completing college. But after a refresher course in business English and typing, I was ready to start at the bottom. I became a receptionist. It was a good beginning. Further training brought additional employment opportunities and added responsibilities. These experiences, along with subsequent years in the field of corporate communications at one of the government banking agencies, have broadened my interests, supplemented my education, developed my skills, strengthened my self-confidence, contributed to my financial independence, and provided for my future security. This is compensation I had never dreamed of.
When I first accepted employment, I came to a decision that accounts in great measure for any success I may have had as a single parent: giving prime time to the children. Prime time meant every evening, with few exceptions. Since I was away all day, I decided that I should be home at night. This was a marked change from former days when my husband’s position as a television network executive involved us both in a busy business and social schedule in and out of town. Time and again as I had appeared to be all attention during a conversation, I had been worrying about the children’s homework or how dinner was progressing at home.
As we had traveled, I had thought about where the children were. At length, after Ralph’s death, I concluded that the next year would be different. I was needed at home more in the evenings when the children were there.
All decisions that shaped our future were not mine alone. The children had choices to make, too. They learned to cook through trial and error and became quite adept at cleaning the house. With their mother at work during the day, they went places by themselves on foot, bicycle, or bus. “Ask not what your mother can do for you, but what you can do for your mother,” became the watchword in our home. All children worked at summer jobs as soon as they were old enough. We even caught the littlest one selling his carefully scrubbed rocks from door to door in the neighborhood. Self-sufficiency, they soon learned, was the way to live.
Although I found myself widowed at a relatively young age, I was blessed with a generous measure of faith and hopefulness. I tried to convey this feeling to my children. The entire family felt a strong sense of opportunity and of the Lord’s hand in our lives.
Friends and family members also contributed their suggestions and ideas for our welfare. There was valuable advice and assistance regarding summer jobs, schools, scholarships, and many other things. Friends were there in times of illness, trouble, and teenage crises. They included us in family activities, fathers and sons’ outings, and other events. Our bishops and priesthood leaders were always available for counsel. Being on the receiving end of so much kindness is often difficult, but it has taught me and my children that blessings from the Lord are not just dropped on our heads. They are brought to pass through the hearts and hands of others.
A woman in the role of single parent, whether widowed or divorced, has a very special calling, and she will be held accountable before the Lord for what she does with her stewardship. Although her spouse is absent, she stands nonetheless commissioned by the Lord to perform the charge he issued to all parents: “And they shall also teach their children to pray, and to walk uprightly before the Lord” (D&C 68:28; see also D&C 68:25–27 and D&C 68:29–32). She may feel at times that she carries a disproportionate share of that responsibility, yet she has the Lord’s assurance that he will prepare a way for her to accomplish her task. (See 1 Ne. 3:7.)
The principal lessons a parent must teach are those of spiritual values. Elder Boyd K. Packer of the Council of the Twelve has suggested that when children are interested or teachable we should immediately take advantage of that moment and teach them. (See Boyd K. Packer, Teach Ye Diligently, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1975, page 110.) When they are spiritually hungry, feed them. Without really knowing it, I followed this precept. We discussed gospel concepts freely while preparing the salad, walking to school, or sitting around the dinner table. It was not unusual for us to talk about the Atonement or the Second Coming any more than it was for us to talk about what was happening in the government or in the school classroom.
Through the years, I have proved the following scripture many times: “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” (Prov. 3:5–6).
We view eternity through the small window of mortal time: “For now we see through a glass, darkly” (1 Cor. 13:12). The day will come when we shall each see our lives with clear vision and an eternal perspective. We shall then have a full knowledge of what we understand by faith now: That the Lord does not leave us alone when we seek him, that he is never in debt to us, and that he always compensates. By showing us our weaknesses and providing an opportunity to turn them to strengths, he exchanges our dross for gold.

Several years ago I was assigned to reorganize a stake presidency. At the Sunday session of the conference, the wife of the newly called stake president related this story. She stated that she had been raised in a good Christian home. Her parents gathered their family together every day to read and study the Bible. As they read about the prophets of old, she asked her parents why there were no prophets on the earth today. They didn’t have an answer that satisfied her, nor did her teachers or her religious leaders.
One day, as a university student, she noticed two young men wearing white shirts and ties. She could read the name “Jesus Christ” on the black name tags they wore. She spoke to them and asked if they were ministers. “Yes, we are! We are missionaries for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“Then may I ask you a question?” she said. “Does the Lord love the people today as much as He loved the people of olden times?”
“Yes, He does!” was their reply.
“Then why do we not have prophets on the earth today?”
Can you imagine the excitement of two young missionaries being asked a question like that? They said, “We do. We do have prophets on the earth today. Can we tell you about them?”
Our message to the world is the same: “We do have prophets on the earth today.” This very afternoon, we will raise our hands to sustain President Gordon B. Hinckley, his counselors, and the Quorum of the Twelve as prophets, seers, and revelators. They are special witnesses of the name of Jesus Christ. In the document “The Living Christ: The Testimony of the Apostles,” they state: “We bear testimony, as His duly ordained Apostles—that Jesus is the Living Christ, the immortal Son of God. … He is the light, the life, and the hope of the world. His way is the path that leads to happiness in this life and eternal life in the world to come.” Brothers and sisters, if God loves us enough to send us prophets, then we need to love Him enough to follow them. Following the prophets will help protect us against the storms of life and lead us to Christ.