Gospel Story Finder

Amy and her family lived in an old log house at the foot of a pine tree covered mountain. She used to have to stand on a chair to look out the window, but now Amy stood on the floor and pressed her nose against the windowpane, watching the snowflakes float down.
“Mom! Mom!” she called. “Mother Goose is shaking her feather pillows again. Look at the snow coming down!” Amy danced happily around the room. “May I go outside?” Amy asked her mother. “I want to play in the snow.”
Amy’s mother looked outside at the snow-covered slope. Turning, she smiled at Amy and said, “Yes, but be careful. The snow looks soft and snuggly, but it covers hard rocks and holes.”
Giving her mother a quick little hug, Amy ran to the closet and put on her coat, stocking cap, mittens, and boots. Then she grinned at her mother and bounded out the door. There was a half-foot of snow on the ground. Amy laughed as she fell backward into the snow and moved her arms up and down and her legs back and forth to make a snow angel.
Quickly jumping up, Amy ran to the woodshed. I wish we had a sled, Amy thought as she opened the door. Maybe there’s something in here that I can use. Looking around, she saw an old deer hide stretched over a box. Maybe that will make a good sled, she thought, grabbing at the corner of the hide and dragging it up the hill. But the hide didn’t slide well at all, so Amy dragged it back to the woodshed. This time she found a large piece of cardboard.
After carrying the cardboard up the slope and checking for rocks and holes, Amy sat down on the cardboard and slid down the hill. “Whee! That was fun!” she shouted when she reached the bottom. But it wasn’t long until the cardboard was too soggy and ragged to slide.
Amy was soon back in the woodshed to find something else. She searched in all the corners and behind the woodpile. Just as she was about to give up, she spotted a big metal dishpan hanging on the wall. “Oh!” Amy squealed happily at her discovery. “I bet that would make a wonderful sled!”
Picking up a broom, Amy knocked the dishpan off the wall. She grabbed the pan, stepped outside, and ran back up the slope.
SWISH! Round and round Amy went down the hill, sitting in the dishpan. Tumbling out at the bottom into the soft, deepening snow, she lay there, breathless and dizzy.
“What’s the matter?” a voice asked.
Turning over, Amy looked up into the face of her older brother Roy. “Just the greatest ride ever,” Amy replied. “You should take a ride. It goes round and round!”
“You want me to ride in a dishpan?” Roy asked. “I’m too big. How do you steer it anyway?”
“You don’t steer it,” Amy said excitedly. “You just ride in it! C’mon, I’ll give you a push.”
Not wanting to be outdone by his little sister, Roy walked up the hill with her. With a push from Amy, he was off.
“Yippee!” Roy shouted as round and round and down and down he went.
At the bottom Roy tumbled out and rolled over in the snow. Amy ran down to meet him. “I told you, didn’t I? Wasn’t it fun?” she asked.
“That’s really terrific,” Roy told her with a big grin.
Mom and Dad came running up. “What happened?” Mother gasped. “We heard someone hollering.”
Roy, getting up and looking at Amy, said, “Only the greatest ride ever. Amy found a ‘sled’ that really goes.”
“Let me show you,” said Amy as she grabbed the dishpan and ran up the hill. Mom and Dad watched Amy push off and come hurtling toward them. Faster and faster she came down the hill until she tumbled out at the bottom.
Laughing with excitement, Amy and Roy and Mother watched Dad reach down, pick up the dishpan, and run up the hill. He scrunched down in the dishpan and, before you knew it, was flying down the slope, shouting with glee.
At the bottom of the hill Dad handed the dishpan to Mom and said, “Now it’s your turn.” Taking the dishpan, Mom ran up the slope for her ride in Amy’s sled!

I had a father come to me one day and say, “Brother Buckner, you are a merit badge examiner for public speaking.”
I said, “Yes, that’s right.”
He said, “I’ve got a son who’s got all of his merit badges for his Eagle Scout rank except one, and I’d like to have you sign his card for public speaking.”
I said, “Well, I’d love to pass your boy on public speaking, but I want to meet your son. You wouldn’t deprive me of that, would you?”
“No,” he said, “but there’s a board of review this Thursday, and we’ve got to have it done by then.”
I said, “Well, I’ll set aside any time you wish—today, Sunday, tomorrow, Monday. How about Tuesday night at 4:00?”
“That’ll be fine,” he said reluctantly.
Tuesday night at four the boy didn’t show up. But a few days later I saw his picture in our local paper getting his Eagle Scout award. I wondered which merit badge examiner the father talked into signing his card.

The first thing you notice about David Brown is his great big smile. Because of it, he makes friends wherever he goes. And David goes lots of places! David (10) has three older sisters and a younger sister, Kara.
Like most boys his age, he enjoys pizza and hot dogs. He likes to bake cookies with his mom. And he loves baseball. But David has some challenges in his life. He was born with spina bifida, a defect in which part of one (or more) vertebrae fails to develop, leaving a portion of the spinal cord exposed. Because of this, he is partially paralyzed from the waist down.
David sometimes uses a wheelchair. But he can also walk using crutches and braces. Unlike most children, David can remember learning to walk. His mom started working with him two hours a day when he was eighteen months old. Eleven months later, he could walk on his own. David and one of his parents make a four-hour drive to Shreveport, Louisiana, each time his braces need to be adjusted or repaired. Since David is very active, they usually have to make the trip more than once a month.
David always seems to find a way to do the things he wants to do. He enjoys swimming and playing Ping-Pong. And he likes bouncing on his trampoline. His sister Kara helps him climb the tree in their front yard, and he and his dad practice catching and hitting a baseball. This year David hopes to see a dream come true. He wants to play baseball in a real league.
David is a good helper at home. His regular chores are making his bed, picking up his toys, and making his school lunch every morning. Each evening he comes into the kitchen and asks, “How may I be of assistance to you, Mom?” He helps her by unloading the silverware from the dishwasher, putting the vegetables in the saucepan, or setting the table.
David is a poster child for a national charity for children with birth defects. He visits with lots of people and helps them to understand more about spina bifida. Sometimes he gets to meet famous athletes and have his picture taken with them.
The Browns are a traveling family. Each summer they take a big trip. They camp along the way, and they always take David’s hand-powered tricycle. David has ridden his trike in many wonderful places: the Lincoln Memorial and the Capitol in Washington, D.C.; the Grand Canyon; Niagara Falls; Disney World; and even across the Royal Gorge Bridge. But David and his family agree that the best trips they have ever taken are the two trips they made to the Hill Cumorah Pageant. Every member of the family had a costume and a part in the pageant. David’s dad even played the part of Lehi one year.
David has many friends in Primary. His favorite Primary song is “I Want to Be a Missionary Now.” He hopes to go on a mission to Germany one day because his dad went there on his mission. David’s big smiles and hugs make Sunday a special day for lots of people.
David says, “I just want to be treated like any other kid.” But his happiness and his love for others make him one of a kind.

As the desire for stability and truth grew in my life, this great desire caused me to turn to the scriptures. It was then that I found a new meaning in Moroni 10:4 [Moro. 10:4]:
“And when ye shall receive these things, I would ask God, the eternal Father in the name of Christ, if these things are not true; and if ye shall ask with a sincere heart, with real intent, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth of it unto you, by the power of the Holy Ghost.”
These were words of hope and comfort to me. I began to read the Book of Mormon with a new purpose. The writings of the prophets found a new place in my heart. I read with the desire to learn and know.
I longed for the comfort, purpose, and perspective that the gospel had always given to my life. Each night before I read, I would pray with a great desire to know the truth. I felt that the scriptures were true, but I wanted to know. When I read, I often found scriptures that gave me inspiration on how to live my life better. Many tears were shed as I felt the power and truth of the Book of Mormon.
I began to regard prayer more seriously. My relationship with my Father in Heaven became much closer. I prayed to him with a new enthusiasm. I desired to know if he was there. I prayed for a remission of my sins. I prayed for forgiveness because of my lack of faith.
After reading the Book of Mormon, I knelt in prayer. I had a great desire to know of its truth. I hoped it was true, knowing what joy this would bring me. That night I prayed for hours desiring to know. The following nights I continued in my prayers and began to wonder if I would receive a witness.
My determination in waiting for a witness was a trial of my faith. After many days I came to the realization that I knew the Book of Mormon was true. It came not as a sign or a voice. I knew because in the center of my being I could not deny that it was true. I also knew that God existed and that he is my Heavenly Father, that Jesus Christ is the only begotten son of God.
This came to me, not as new knowledge, but as a peaceful remembrance of that which I already knew. I did not need a further witness. I had always known the truth. My pride in my own knowledge had caused me to forget my testimony.
With this new understanding my life received meaning and peace. Although I still question some of what I hear, I do it for my own good and a desire to learn the truth.

Some things I learned by what I did, rather than from someone else’s actions. One Christmas a favorite aunt gave me a book of illustrated stories from the Old Testament. Outside, the weather was cold and the wind was howling. I couldn’t sleep. I waited until everybody else was asleep so that I wouldn’t disturb them, then gathered up my blanket and settled down near the forced-air heat vent and read that book for hours at a time. Before that I hadn’t been much of a reader, but I was entranced by that book. I really developed a love for the scriptures at that young age.

In Alvin F. Meredith’s final year of high school in Tennessee, USA, he was selected as his school’s athlete of the year by a group of Christian student athletes.
Shortly afterward, his coach notified him that the state leadership of the group had disqualified him because they didn’t recognize The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as a Christian faith.
His coach, “a really good Christian man,” asked the organization to send someone to the school to meet with the young athlete. The organization’s representative came to the high school and explained 10 points of doctrine that he felt justified their decision to disqualify the Latter-day Saint athlete. Upon seeing a Bible in the man’s bag, Elder Meredith asked if the two of them could review some verses.
“We looked at each of those 10 points and went to Chronicles and James and the book of Revelation and Corinthians,” Elder Meredith said. “My faith was challenged, and through the fire of that challenge, it was strengthened and has never wavered since.”

Pioneers help my testimony of Jesus Christ to grow because of their sacrifices to follow Him. I have an ancestor named Lars Larson who listened to the missionaries and chose to follow Jesus Christ even though his parents were angry about it. They told him that if he was baptized, they would not let him live there and they would not help him at all. His testimony was so strong that he left his family to follow the Savior and be baptized. He was later called as a missionary to where his family lived. He went to their house, and when his mother answered the door, she quickly closed it on him. But he caught the door before it closed all the way and simply said, “Mother, I just want you to know that I have found the truth.” This testimony wasn’t easy to have—it meant that he lost a lot—but following the Savior was so important to him that it was worth the sacrifice.

When I was a young man, Elder Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985), then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, visited Japan and spoke at a conference I attended. I still remember his counsel: “Young people are to go on missions, and they are to be married in the temple.”
I felt prompted by the Holy Ghost and resolved that I would serve a mission and marry in the temple, even though Japan did not yet have a temple.
At the time, I was 19 and in my second year of university studies. My parents, who were not Latter-day Saints, strongly opposed my decision to serve a mission. Every day I prayed that they would give me their permission and blessing. Six months later the Lord answered my prayer.
“We are having financial difficulties, and we can no longer pay for your school and living expenses,” my parents told me. “From this point onward you will have to live on your own. We don’t mind if you go on a mission either!”
I had my parents’ blessing, so I quit school, served a Church construction mission, and then began looking for a job to raise money for a proselyting mission. With the Lord’s help, I found three jobs! Every day except Sunday for the following year, I delivered newspapers from 3:00 a.m. to 7:00 a.m., cleaned buildings from 9:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m., and worked as a cook from 5:00 p.m. to 7:30 p.m. Then I would change clothes and work nights as a district missionary.
When I was 22, I was called to the Northern Far East Mission. Through my mission service I experienced the greatest joy I had ever felt, had many opportunities to come to know God’s love, and received many blessings. My family was also blessed during my service when my parents resolved their financial challenges.

During World War II, several Latter-day Saints moved through the islands with advancing Allied forces. In 1944 and 1945, military groups held Church meetings in many locations, and numerous LDS service members and service workers were still in the Philippines when the war ended. Among them were Maxine Tate and recent convert Jerome Horowitz. Both helped introduce the gospel to Aniceta Fajardo. While helping rebuild Aniceta’s house in a bombed-out area of Manila, Brother Horowitz shared his newly found faith with Aniceta and her daughter, Ruth.
Aniceta gained a testimony and desired baptism, but the Church did not authorize baptisms for Filipinos at that time because there were no permanent Church units in the islands. Elder Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles became aware of Aniceta’s desire, and in his capacity as chairman of the General Servicemen’s Committee, Elder Lee approved Aniceta’s baptism. On Easter morning in 1946, Aniceta Fajardo was baptized by serviceman Loren Ferre and is now acknowledged as the first known Filipino to become a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

In 1863 Charles Dickens, the English novelist, went on board the passenger ship Amazon, which was bound for New York. His purpose was to report on the Latter-day Saint converts who were emigrating to build up the Church in the American West. There had been thousands of converts who had already emigrated, and much had been written, particularly in the British media, about them and their beliefs. Most of what was written was unfavorable.
“I went on board their ship,” wrote Dickens, “to bear testimony against them if they deserved it, as I fully believed they would; to my great astonishment they did not deserve it.”
After observing and mingling with the converts, Dickens was impressed with them and described these English converts, most of whom were laborers, as being “in their degree, the pick and flower of England.”

An elder told of traveling from Vietnam and arriving at a Seattle, Washington, refugee camp. While he was trying to learn English so he could enter the United States, someone gave him a small card with a picture and address on it. He kept it for some reason, and when he was later asked where he wanted to live, he showed this card to the customs official. “I can’t send you there,” he was told “but I can send you to a place nearby.” He was sent to an LDS family in Salt Lake City. He learned about the Church. As he finished telling me this story, he reached into his wallet and showed the card. It was a picture of the MTC. “I am here, President,” he said. Like the others, he thought it was a privilege to go on a mission.

At the end of 2013, two young men wearing white shirts and ties began to visit my sister twice a week. I knew right away they were from a church. For me, being part of a church wasn’t in my plans, so I decided not to talk to them.
With each of their visits, I made sure not to be home when they arrived. Something in particular, however, caught my attention. They always carried a blue book. I had never seen it before, and it seemed strange to me.
One day in the living room, my sister began telling me about the book. Suddenly, the two young men arrived. Unfortunately, I couldn’t hide from them. They saw us with the blue book—the Book of Mormon—and started asking what I knew about Jesus Christ.
As I listened to the missionaries from that day on, I was impressed by how they connected their teachings to the Book of Mormon. As a result, the blue book became less strange to me.
I still had serious doubts about it, but I started reading it. I came to understand that the Book of Mormon was not a substitute for the Bible but was desirable to change my life and bring me closer to Jesus Christ. I learned that the Book of Mormon is centered on the Savior. Its teachings helped me know who He is and who Heavenly Father is.
The Book of Mormon soon helped me become a better person, a true disciple of Jesus Christ. It also helped me improve my attitude as I faced daily challenges. From my experience studying it, I know it helps people come unto Christ and live the gospel (see Moroni 10:32). It encourages us to follow Christ’s teachings and apply them in our daily life. It gives us the knowledge that we are sons and daughters of God. It brings peace.
After several weeks of meeting with the missionaries and reading the Book of Mormon, I was baptized. I bear my testimony with all my heart that the Book of Mormon is true and that reading it brings hope and light in the darkest moments, helping us feel the Lord’s love and protection. I am grateful to have the Book of Mormon in my life.

When our oldest daughter, Wendi, was age five, she attended kindergarten class each morning. One day I sent her to school, then readied our two younger children to go shopping. I felt rushed because I wanted to finish shopping in time to pick up Wendi from school. So with my shopping list in one hand and my two younger children in the other, I set off for the store.
About 20 minutes later a clear thought interrupted me: Darlene, go check on Wendi. I thought, How silly! Wendi is fine at school. I dismissed the thought and went about my shopping. A short time later the thought came back again. Darlene, go check on Wendi. The thought came so clearly I stopped in the middle of a grocery store aisle.
Looking at my shopping list and at my two young children, who would not be patient much longer, I reasoned to myself, This is silly! I’m sure Wendi is fine. I continued down the aisle, but the words came forcefully yet again: Darlene, go check on Wendi!
I told a clerk I would be back for my groceries and rushed from the store. As we left, I noticed a severe thunderstorm had come up. Wendi was terrified of thunderstorms, but I knew she was safe at school. Nevertheless, I began to worry that something terrible might have happened. I hurried to the school. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and even the storm was passing. I thought perhaps I wouldn’t go inside after all. But after making the effort to get there, I decided I should at least walk to the classroom and reassure myself that all was well.
I turned the corner to Wendi’s classroom and saw the door was open and Wendi was standing in the doorway. How odd! Why wasn’t she at her desk? As I approached she smiled. I didn’t know what to say, so I just hugged her.
“Mommy, I knew you’d come!” she said.
With that, her teacher came over and said, “How did you know to come?” Then she explained that the thunder and lightning had upset the class. As she tried to gather the children to sit together, she noticed Wendi at her seat praying. When Wendi finished, she told her teacher that she was all right and that she had asked Heavenly Father to send her mommy to her. She asked if she could please wait by the door.
I could not stop my tears as I realized the prayer of faith of a five-year-old had literally moved me from a grocery store several kilometers away to be at her side. I am deeply grateful to Heavenly Father for this experience, for Wendi and I both learned divine lessons about faith and trust that day.

One night I was kneeling at my bed, asking Heavenly Father if He would help me have more faith, remembering a New Testament scripture where a disciple asked Jesus Christ to “increase our faith” (see Luke 17:5). I had no idea that soon after this prayer, I would face some of the hardest of trials in my life. I’m so grateful that I was already seeking to increase my faith in the Savior when those trials hit, because I don’t know how I would have survived them without my Heavenly Father’s help.
A few days after that prayer, I had a terrible accident where I almost lost my left hand and had to get all my fingers on that hand amputated. Obviously my life was never the same again. Even though I felt the love of my Heavenly Father and of my family and friends through the long process of surgeries and therapies, it was so hard.
One day after my doctor told me that I would have to receive physical therapy for months, I went home in tears and asked Heavenly Father, “How long will I have to endure this?” Immediately, it was as if a tender and clear voice told me, “You can’t progress without trials. You still need even more.”
I couldn’t believe that I had received an immediate response to my prayer. At that moment, I was determined to move forward in faith. I decided to resubmit my mission papers and serve God, despite my challenges. A few months later I received my mission call to the Guatemala Guatemala City South Mission! But getting to that point wasn’t easy either. It took a lot of bravery and courage to accept my circumstances, forget myself, and invite others to follow Christ.
My mission was wonderful. I learned to value the principles of the gospel even more, and I found confidence in myself to share my testimony and bring hope to many people who didn’t know where to find it. I felt my heart being changed by Heavenly Father. I had never experienced what it felt like to love total strangers and be willing to give everything I had for them without hesitation until now—walking day in and day out, rain or shine, my feet tired and sore.
When my mission ended, all those experiences helped me stay hopeful in the chaotic and superficial world back home. I returned home at a very difficult time for my family and my country. There were many political and economic problems, and many families were emigrating to other countries because of the lack of employment and education opportunities. I couldn’t believe that things had changed so much in such a short time, even within my own family. Some of my loved ones and friends had also passed away. I felt so overwhelmed with all the difficulties surrounding me.
One day, feeling discouraged, I took out my study notebook and began to write about the feelings in my heart. I thought of the many experiences I had had while serving others on my mission. Recalling those special experiences was exactly what I needed to lose myself even more in His work, to serve and continue to develop the gifts that He has blessed me with. That day a very special phrase that my mission president’s wife always repeated to us stood out to me: “You can do hard things.” I have tried to remember that continuously, including while learning to use a prosthetic hand and trying to live a normal life.
Throughout the adversity I’ve faced, my testimony has grown—especially my faith in miracles. Miracles happen if we set out to do something with determination, consistency, and faith. Those who believe in Heavenly Father can have always have hope in any circumstances.
I know that the trials in my earthly life will continue, but I shouldn’t fear because trials can bring us closer to Heavenly Father, who can help us know how to progress. My accident and every difficult challenge I’ve been through since remind me to turn Heavenly Father for help. And He has helped me change for the better. I am so glad I prayed for more faith, and I know through my trials, I have been able to serve Heavenly Father and get so much closer to Him. Despite how my life has been altered by my trials, I’m truly happy and I’m so thankful to have come so far with Heavenly Father’s help. I can’t wait for the day when I am resurrected—when I’m able to see Him again and tell Him, “Thank you! Thank you for humbling me, thank you for shaping me, thank you for ‘increasing my faith!’”

I recently had the opportunity to visit my home town, Maputo, where I received the Gospel of Jesus Christ as a single adult in 2000. My first calling in the church after a month of being a member was Primary President. At the time, I could not comprehend why I got that calling. Besides the fact that it was to look after the children during church hours, I knew nothing about Primary and the way that was supposed to be run. I was totally unsure what I was to do in this organization. I thought that the branch presidency was mistaken on their choice.
As I think about it today, it was not a choice of the branch president. It was a calling from Heavenly Father and His son Jesus Christ. In my human understanding, there were many sisters in the branch that I could point out as more prepared and capable of fulfilling that calling. Sisters that were mothers and were probably more experienced in dealing with children of different ages. Despite my feelings of inadequacy, I accepted the calling and learned line upon line and precept upon precept.
It was a great and humbling journey of learning and service. I remember many Sundays when I was the only teacher for the whole Primary. On those Sundays I had to teach music, run sharing time, and teach primary lessons. The best thing was that we always had a senior missionary sister that would play piano for our sharing time. I grew to love Primary music timewhere I could teach the gospel to the children through music. Almost every Sunday, we sang the primary songs “I hope they call me on a mission” and “Follow the Prophet” from the children’s songbook at the request of the Primary children. These were our Primary favourite songs. During my service in Primary, I learned the most basic and valuable principles that helped me grow and understand the fullness of the restored Gospel of Jesus Christ. I grew to love my Primary children. My Primary class varied from five to twenty and sometimes even more children on some Sundays. But I strived to know each child by name.
It felt overwhelming at times – trying to coordinate Sunday activities, music, lesson, assigning children for the following Sunday. But as I reflect upon the experience, it was a time that Heavenly Father helped me establish deep roots in the Gospel. I often felt loved and needed by the children. It was hectic, yet very rewarding calling.
I loved seeing them having the desire to come to Primary, and my favourite part was the big hugs that I would get from the children at the end of our time together. I often never knew how I was doing as a teacher, until I would hear from a parent or two that their child or their children speak about me at home. Thinking back, I realize that this was the most rewarding calling in the church – there were great needs and a huge opportunity for service.

Indio High School’s water polo team was surprising everybody. The Southern California 3-A championship game was half over, and they were thrashing the El Dorado Hawks, 7–3. Indio’s Rajahs were considered a Cinderella club, strong on teamwork but lacking the polish and size necessary to pull off an upset. Yet somehow they were winning the game!
Calvin Lowell, 17, braced himself at the edge of the pool, ready to sprint to the center. (In water polo each quarter begins when the referee tosses the ball to the middle of the water, and players swim toward it in a scramble for possession.) He knew El Dorado would come out fighting.
Cal looked up at his father, Dr. John Lowell, who was standing near one of the diving boards, ready to shout encouragement. It wasn’t just another case of a proud spectator cheering on his boy. Cal’s father is the Indio coach.
The whistle shrieked. Waves foamed and churned. One blazing shot after another skittered into the net, despite flailing arms and lunging defensive maneuvers. Two of Indio’s top players fouled out. The lead narrowed to 8–7. Each team scored again quickly. Then with two minutes and 36 seconds remaining in the fourth quarter, an El Dorado forward slapped the ball from the goalie’s hand and it floated into the net to knot the score at 9–9.
Coach Lowell bowed his head. Ignoring thousands of screaming fans, he said a silent prayer. He knew the Lord couldn’t promise a victory, but he hoped that each player would perform to the best of his ability. A new strategy came into his head, and he called a time out.
He gathered the players around him and counseled them to avoid the congested area just in front of the goals, concentrating on outside shots. Play resumed. The tactic worked perfectly, but the man who wound up free with the ball was the team’s poorest marksman. “Not him,” Coach Lowell wanted to shout. “Anybody but …”
The ball slammed into the goal’s canvas backing. Indio led again, 10–9. The same play worked twice more with other Indio shooters, while the Hawks tallied only one more point. The seconds timer read zero. The championship game was over, and the Rajahs had won, 12–10!

“In 1976 an area general conference was held in Copenhagen, Denmark. Following the closing session, President Spencer W. Kimball [1895–1985] desired to visit the Vor Frue Church, where the Thorvaldsen statues of the Christus and of the Twelve Apostles stand. …
“To the front of the church, behind the altar, stands the familiar statue of the Christus with His arms turned forward and somewhat outstretched, the hands showing the imprint of the nails, and the wound in His side very clearly visible. Along each side stand the statues of the Apostles, Peter at the front to the right and the other Apostles in order.
“Most of our group was near the rear of the chapel with the custodian. I stood up front with President Kimball before the statue of Peter with Elder Rex D. Pinegar and Johan Helge Benthin, president of the Copenhagen stake.
“In Peter’s hand, depicted in marble, is a set of heavy keys. President Kimball pointed to those keys and explained what they symbolized. Then, in an act I shall never forget, he turned to President Benthin and with unaccustomed firmness pointed his finger at him and said, ‘I want you to tell everyone in Denmark that I hold the keys! We hold the real keys, and we use them every day.’
“I will never forget that declaration, that testimony from the prophet. The influence was spiritually powerful; the impression was physical in its impact.
“We walked to the back of the chapel where the rest of the group was standing. Pointing to the statues, President Kimball said to the kind custodian, ‘These are the dead Apostles.’ Pointing to me, he said, ‘Here we have the living Apostles. Elder Packer is an Apostle. Elder Thomas S. Monson and Elder L. Tom Perry are Apostles, and I am an Apostle. We are the living Apostles.
“‘You read about the Seventies in the New Testament, and here are two of the living Seventies, Elder Rex D. Pinegar and Elder Robert D. Hales.’
“The custodian, who up to that time had shown no emotion, suddenly was in tears.
“I felt I had had an experience of a lifetime.”2

Whenever Robert Norton got on a bike, he was a whole new person.
“Robert would go outside at eight in the morning and ride his bike in our driveway until ten at night. He got so good at it that he was the fastest Special Olympics cyclist in Connecticut,” says his younger brother Lee. “Before he got involved in Special Olympics, Robert was a loner. But when he came to Special Olympics, he opened up. He made friends, and kids at school started talking to him, though they hadn’t before.”
For nearly 30 years, the Special Olympics has been helping athletes with disabilities compete with one another on local, national, and international levels. Robert, who was mentally disabled, competed in many Special Olympics before he died in 1992. “I miss my brother, and I never put him out of my mind,” explains Lee. “The Special Olympics really fulfilled Robert’s life and was a great thing for him.”

“I remember sometimes staying at Grandmother’s when I was very young,” Sister Smith recalled. “One day she took my brother and me with her when she went to deliver a new baby. When we got to the house, she told us to wait in the car. We stayed in the car a long time, until the children living there invited us to play with them. We got out of the car and all ran around to the back of the house where we saw my grandmother through the sundappled window, bathing a brand new little baby. Suddenly she looked up to see a window full of little faces peering in. I remember how she put her head back and laughed! She didn’t get after us for getting out of the car, because I guess she realized that we had become restless waiting for her.

The young soldier stood at attention before the court.
“William Scott, you have been found guilty,” the judge said in a firm voice. “You will be shot by a firing squad within twenty-four hours!”
William’s heart was heavy with fear. He was only twenty-two and had joined the Union Army a few months earlier to fight for his country.
Two nights before, one of William’s comrades had been too sick to do guard duty so William had taken his place. Then the very next night William found himself assigned to guard duty.
The young soldier doubted he could stay awake, and so he went to the captain and told him of his fear. “I’m afraid I can’t keep awake on guard duty a second night,” William explained. “Could you find a replacement for me?”
The captain was busy, and without really listening he brushed aside the boy’s request.
That night William reported for guard duty, and only a few hours later he was found asleep at his post. Now he was to be shot as a traitor!
As the captain heard the judge pronounce sentence on the young soldier, he stepped forward and pled with the judge. “If anyone ought to be shot,” he said, “then I should be the one. Please save William’s life.”
The sorrow and concern of the captain and the other men of William’s regiment for their comrade’s life touched the heart of the judge. He thought about the matter for a few minutes, and then he turned to the captain and said softly, “There is only one man who can save your friend. Come, we will go to President Lincoln.”
A short time later the judge and captain arrived at the White House. Although the president was very busy, he took time to listen quietly to the story the two men told. When they finished, he said, “It would be a sad thing for a young man like William Scott to die like this.”
President Lincoln’s voice was full of compassion as he promised, “I will look into the matter myself this very day.”
That afternoon the president went to the guardhouse of the army camp. He talked with William about his friends back home, his school, and especially about his mother.
“William, you should be thankful that your mother still lives,” President Lincoln said gently. “If I were in your place, I would try to make her a proud mother and never cause her any sorrow.”
William listened patiently and then he asked the president a question that had been troubling him. “Would it be possible not to appoint any men from my own regiment to the firing squad?” he asked. “The hardest thing of all would be to die by the hands of my friends.”
“My boy,” said President Lincoln, “you are not going to be shot tomorrow. I am going to trust you to go back to your regiment. Your country has great need of men like you.”
For a moment William could not believe what he had heard, but when he looked into President Lincoln’s loving eyes, he knew the words were true. “How can I ever repay you, sir?” he asked in a voice that trembled because of the big lump in his throat.
President Lincoln put his hands on the young boy’s shoulders. “My boy,” he said, “my bill is a very large one. No money can pay it and no friends can help you. There is only one person in all the world who can pay your debt, and his name is William Scott. If you will fight bravely and do your duty as a soldier, then the debt will be paid. Will you make that promise?”
William promised he would do as the president asked. Then with tear-filled eyes, William vowed to himself that with God’s help he would keep the solemn promise he made that day to President Abraham Lincoln.
And he did!