Gospel Story Finder

In an Ensign article from 1981, Dennis R. Peterson shared the process he used to overcome some of his weaknesses. He realized that the key to changing his behavior was to learn to love the things that God loves...to feel the way God does about different issues. He decided to try this as he overcame his lack of desire to go to church. He says:

"Cautiously, I chose my first target. It wasn't very earthshaking, but it was a persistent problem. I didn't enjoy attending church. So, morning and night, I would pray: 'Lord, bless me to feel about our worship services just the way thou dost. Help me to find in them the things that thou wouldst find. Help me to participate in the ways that thou wouldst.' And tremendous things began to happen. Sunday became a day filled with light; I found myself hungry to greet the other members of the Church, to share my testimony with them, to learn from the teachers, to express in song the feelings I had no words for, and to partake of the emblems of our Savior's sacrifice with humility and gratitude. Sunday became a Sabbath. No longer was attending church a matter of suppressing my desire to rest, read, study, ski, or play. Now it was an expression of righteous, loving desires." He later used this same process to overcome angry feelings towards a co-worker.

My little brother and sister, Michael and Abbie, are a handful. You just can’t get them to sit still. I should know—I’ve tried. Mom says I’m old enough to watch them when she goes out for errands. I’m glad Mom thinks I’m responsible, but I’m not sure I want to watch them on my own.
So today, when Mom went to the store and put me in charge, I was ready. I decided that in order to watch Michael and Abbie, I would need to get them to behave, and I knew just the way to do it.
“Who wants to play a game?” I asked.
They jumped up and down. “Ooh! Me! Me!”
“It’s a game I just invented. It’s called Baby Caterpillar. Do you want to pretend to be baby caterpillars?”
“Yes!” Michael yelled.
“Yay!” Abbie shouted.
I grinned. My brother and sister can never quietly agree to anything.
“To play this game, I need both of you to get a blanket,” I said.
They both ran to their bedrooms as fast as they could and brought back two blankets.
“OK, now just watch.”
They stood quietly and watched, which was a first for them.
First I laid down both blankets and had Abbie lie right in the middle of one and Michael in the middle of the other. Then I wrapped them each in a blanket cocoon up to their chins.
“Ta da!” I said. “You are now baby caterpillars!”
“Yay!” they shouted.
They wiggled around for a bit, and after a while they started talking to each other in their “caterpillar language.” Their smiling faces peeked over their blankets. I sat on the couch with a good book while they chattered to each other.
When I looked at my brother and sister, nestled in their little cocoons, I realized they weren’t so bad after all. In fact, now that I was spending time with them, I kind of liked them. I thought about how much fun we could have playing a board game together after they were done being baby caterpillars. I put my book down and started to think of other games we could all play the next time Mom left me in charge.

While in my first area, my mother and other siblings qualified to receive their temple ordinances. I was fortunate enough to have been allowed to participate. I was sealed to my parents in the Manila Philippines Temple. My third missionary companion was given the opportunity to proxy for my father during the sealing. It was a great spiritual experience for our family to receive unparalleled blessing from the Lord.

There is an urgency in this work that motivates us to extend the blessings of the temple to as many of our Heavenly Father’s children as possible. I was impressed with an experience of President Wilford Woodruff when he told of a visitation he received from the Prophet Joseph Smith some time after the Prophet was martyred. According to President Woodruff’s own account: “[Joseph Smith] came to me and spoke to me. He said he could not stop to talk with me because he was in a hurry. The next man I met was Father Smith; he could not talk with me because he was in a hurry. I met half a dozen brethren who had held high positions on earth, and none of them could stop to talk with me because they were in a hurry. I was much astonished. By and by I saw the Prophet again and I got the privilege of asking him a question.
“‘Now,’ said I, ‘I want to know why you are in a hurry. I have been in a hurry all my life; but I expected my hurry would be over when I got into the kingdom of heaven, if I ever did.’
“Joseph said: ‘I will tell you, Brother Woodruff. Every dispensation that has had the priesthood on the earth and has gone into the celestial kingdom has had a certain amount of work to do to prepare to go to the earth with the Savior when he goes to reign on the earth. Each dispensation has had ample time to do this work. We have not. We are the last dispensation, and so much work has to be done, and we need to be in a hurry to accomplish it.’
“Of course, that was satisfactory,” President Woodruff concluded, “but it was new doctrine to me.”

Johnny’s family situation wasn’t picture-perfect. His parents divorced when he was two, and his dad isn’t active in the Church, although he did support Johnny in his own way—going to his Primary programs and encouraging him in what mattered most.
In high school, Johnny made seminary a priority, even if he had to go alone. During summers when he lived with his dad, he drove himself and his sister to church. He read his scriptures without anyone nudging him. And when the time came to serve a mission, he chose to serve, even though he was nervous.
For Johnny, letting his covenants guide his life wasn’t about having a perfect family or ideal circumstances. It was about choosing Jesus Christ, even when it was hard. As he did this, his relationship with Christ deepened and allowed him to increase his faith and hope for the future.

Sister Wilson carefully studied each young child as she entered the Primary classroom. How they have grown and developed since January, she thought. She gathered them around her and began her lesson. “You are each very special! You have learned so many things. You have learned to sit reverently and listen to our lessons. Why, you can even say your own prayers!”
“Well, of course,” responded Clayton, “I’ve already been on this earth five years!”
Clayton’s lifetime seemed a very long time to him, and he saw no limits to what he could learn. Brothers and sisters, our children are eager to learn. They want to be taught. They need to be taught.

That gift continued in the hospital after his wife died. We gathered up my mother’s things to take home. Dad stopped to thank every nurse and doctor we met on the way out to the car. I remember I felt, with some irritation, that we should leave to be alone with our grief.

I realize now that he saw things only the Holy Ghost could have shown him. He saw those people as angels sent by God to watch over his sweetheart. They may have seen themselves as health care professionals, but Dad was thanking them for their service on behalf of the Savior.

When I was 17, some family members and I had to drive from Oakland, California to Portland, Oregon to find and rescue a stolen vehicle and a lost baby niece. The trip was scary and stressful, but we were hopeful and prayerful.
Through several tender mercies from a loving Heavenly Father, we were able to rescue both the minivan and my baby niece, who, by a miracle, was safe and sound.
The minivan was in working condition, but it was a mess. I was more than excited to clean it out, to prepare it for our drive back, but thoughts of those who had abused our vehicle—and the kind of chaotic life they must lead—brought me to frustrated tears. It was hard for me to understand how anyone can do such crazy things with their lives and with other people’s property. It made me so sad.
I couldn’t wait to get back to California. I knew we had a long drive ahead of us.

That was a lesson for Katelyn. She had had difficulty seeing this kind of potential in herself. As a Beehive, she looked up to the other young women, but she didn’t feel like she had anything to contribute to her Beehive class. At school she felt pressure to try to be popular and fit in. “It’s hard when other people try to tell me what I am supposed to look like, act like, and do well at.”

One night for Mutual each young woman received a piece of paper with a name on it. The paper was passed around the room and each young woman wrote talents, abilities, or admirable traits about the young woman whose name was on the paper. As Katelyn read the kind words that the other Beehives wrote about her, she realized that the other girls saw talents and gifts that she had never seen in herself. That experience, coupled with her efforts visiting the hospital, “have taught me a lot about my role here.”

Mexico City: It wasn’t a typical visit to the home of less-active members: a tape of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was playing, and the Book of Mormon was on the table. Was this the right house?
Roberto Wilson and his wife Maria Teresa hadn’t been to church for months. But when they received a phone call saying a General Authority, a regional representative, and a member of the stake presidency (who was their home teacher) wanted to visit them, they weren’t stricken with horror or guilt. “We felt honored that hey would visit us!” says Maria.
Did she put on the Tabernacle Choir tape just to impress them? “No, I always have my Choir tapes playing. The music relaxes me.”
After a prayer, the leaders chatted with Roberto about his work at the bank and then asked about their feelings for the Church. Maria mentioned some past problems. The leaders expressed understanding and then invited them to return to Church. “They told me I should be progressing,” says Roberto, “and they challenged me to receive the priesthood and to take my wife and children to the temple.”
How did the Wilsons react? “It was good for them to visit us,” says Roberto. “Their clear intention was to gather us like fish in their nets because we had strayed.”
“My husband told me that ours was a chosen home to have such visitors come,” says Maria. “Now we felt it was our responsibility to be in church. I thought of the callings I’d had before, and I felt bad that I didn’t have one then.”
The immediate challenge was to attend stake conference the next day. The Wilsons did so and have continued to attend church. Although Roberto had been a member for four years, he had never received the priesthood. One month after the visit, he received the Aaronic Priesthood. In another month and a half, he was ordained an elder. “We’re planning to go to the temple,” he says, “and I’d like my son and daughter to go on missions someday.”
They speak of the missionaries, home teachers, and friends who have encouraged them over the years. Then, reflecting back on that special visit: “It gave me joy to talk with those brethren; they have great hearts.” (See: “We Come with Love.”)

But they’ve also learned equally important lessons of spiritual survival and the blessings of family. For example, when they lived in Akiachuk, the stake presidency authorized the Fullers to conduct meetings in their own home.
At first that may sound great. But think about holding sacrament meeting in the same living room that contains your TV and VCR and video games, in the same home where you sometimes argue and quarrel. The spirit of your meetings would all be up to you.
Besides, who would give the talks in sacrament meeting? Who would teach Sunday School, Primary, and priesthood meeting? That’s right, your family.
How did the Fullers handle it? For one thing, they made it a point to dress in their Sunday clothes for their meetings, even if it was just at home. And they accepted their responsibility to teach each other. Lyle has taught both Stanley and Linnae in Primary. “I enjoyed it, and so did they,” he reports. Clark’s experience was similar. “I thought it was kind of fun teaching Owen and Stanley. And when Mark taught me, I thought that was great.”
Now that they are in Barrow, they have a small branch of the Church that meets in the local youth center. Each Sunday they clear away the pool tables and other recreation equipment before they can set up a few chairs, a sacrament table, and a portable podium. And while there are perhaps a half dozen other members who help, it is still often Fullers teaching Fullers.
How important is example in this family? Seated at the control panel of the small radio station where he works as a part-time deejay, Lyle talks about life in a big family with lots of boys: “I grew up with five older brothers. Their example has made it easy to make the right choices. Also, it’s put pressure on me to live up to the things they’ve accomplished.”
Now Lyle is the oldest at home. It’s an unspoken duty that he feels deeply: “I was kind of scared when my brother just older than me was ready to leave home, because I knew being the oldest brother was kind of a big responsibility.”
Every night at bedtime, Clark, the next oldest at home, challenges Lyle to a rough-and-tumble wrestling match. Then it’s Dad who has to break things up. Third-in-line Ron isn’t quite ready to take on Clark yet because, “He’s still a head taller and 30 pounds heavier.” But then he glances sideways at Clark in the next room. He can’t help raising his voice, throwing out a teasing challenge: “But I could still take him. You hear that, Clark?”
The teasing and banter continue until it’s time for daily scripture reading and evening prayer. Together, the family has read all of the standard works aloud, seriously, taking time to discuss the meaning of what they are reading. There’s a peaceful spirit here in this cozy home.
Outside, it’s dark and overcast, with snow flurries. The calendar says it’s still early September, but this far north the first snowfall took place weeks ago. The days are growing noticeably shorter: from Thanksgiving through the end of January the sun won’t even appear above the horizon.
Those long weeks of darkness can cause people to become depressed and sluggish. Doctors have discovered that it can be avoided if people are exposed to the right kind of bright light for a period of time each day. As Ron Fuller puts it, “I just spend some time soaking up light every day.”
You can’t escape the analogy. Here is a family that has learned to turn to the Light, no matter where they are. Sometimes the world inappropriately uses the word godforsaken to describe places like this. But the Fullers feel anything but forsaken. And that’s what really puts them on top of the world.

S stands for Service in Arizona. All over the state, LDSSA council members are boosting the idea that involvement is joy.
In the Phoenix region, the Latter-day Saint students are concentrating on the underprivileged areas. The main focus of their work has been on community school activities. They started from scratch and have developed a five-day-a-week program for all interested adult members in the surrounding community.
“We beamed with pride when Mr. Fuller, director of the community school, spoke at the institute and praised our efforts,” commented Gordon Paul Sorenson.
Brian Hendrickson, third-year law student, is community project chairman; and, according to Tempe institute director Sherman Beck, Brian stirred up a wonderful storm when he got the community project going. “Working with underprivileged children to lift them to greater heights of accomplishment and to give meaning to their lives is most rewarding,” Brian says.
Erline Hall is a great girl with a heart quick to sense an ache in another’s. She has winning ways with children, too, who clamor to “sit by teacher” as she assists them in reading as part of Safford, Arizona’s Head Start program. Her speciality is the five-year-old Mexican-American students, who are eager to learn.
Winter has come to the desert around Tucson. The morning air is biting to young Lamanites standing in a huddle waiting for their ride to seminary. Their own parents are unable to take them. But there are smiles all around when a long car pulls to a quick stop. It’s Chris, one of the girls who signed up with LDSSA’s car pool project. At seminary the students will be taught by a young returned missionary, also a member of LDSSA.
Every Monday night in Tucson, carloads of happy college students embark upon their most thrilling night of the week. Twenty minutes later they are in a twentieth century ghetto, tutoring elementary and high school students.
One member is teaching piano to four black students; and because no instruments are available in their homes or in the neighborhood, she picks the students up and takes them to the institute, where pianos are available.
“The service we render to others is really the rent we pay for our room on this earth,” said Sir Wilfred Thomason Grenfell. The service we render to others is also an act of love and obedience before our Heavenly Father, who reminds us that to lose our life is to save it.

When Heber J. Grant was 10 years old, he took a singing class.
Teacher: You can’t carry a tune, Heber. You’ll never learn how to sing.
Years later Heber heard Horace S. Ensign sing.
Heber: I would give you three months of my spare time if I could learn to sing one or two hymns!
Horace: Anyone can learn to sing. Are you willing to practice?
After two weeks, Heber had learned to sing “O My Father.” Two months later he could sing four other hymns.

Our prophet is also a good example of someone who looked with his spiritual eyes, felt and understood with his heart, and then helped. President Gordon B. Hinckley was only twenty years old when his mother died. He had younger brothers and sisters at home, and everyone in the family was very sad. Ramona was sixteen and about to graduate from high school. She had no dress for that special occasion, and she thought nobody noticed. But her older brother Gordon saw her need, understood how she felt, and helped. Using some money he had saved for graduate school, he bought her a new dress. His kindness made her feel loved.

When Samuel joined us in January, he was healthy in every way except one: There was something a little unusual about his skin in some places. As the first hours went by, the outer layer of skin started to come off in some areas, mostly on his legs, arms, and back. This left weeping wounds that looked something like scrapes or burns. Doctors and nurses seemed very puzzled by it. Finally, perhaps 18 hours after our baby's arrival, a doctor informed us that she thought he had a rare and serious skin condition that can profoundly affect the quality one's life. Her explanation seemed reasonable, and squared with what I was able to locate on the internet. This was certainly sobering for us. We prayed, and Samuel received a priesthood blessing.

That night, and over several days of intensive care for Samuel, a scripture from Proverbs with which you are all familiar persistently came into my thoughts: "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" (Proverbs 3:5-6). Sister Richardson similarly had a scripture come to her mind-hers from the Doctrine and Covenants-with the essential words being: "Be not troubled" (D&C 45:35). Since that night we have tried to think and act in accord with those persistent impressions. This has brought us comfort and peace. The doctors involved, after a significant amount of testing, still do not know the exact nature of Samuel's skin condition, but it is clearly improving. A specialist has informed us that he does not have the serious condition that had seemed so logical and likely early on. In other words, to have leaned unto our own understanding back then would have been to lean unto inaccuracy, and would have done no good. All indications at present are that Samuel's problem will resolve itself entirely.

What I wish to emphasize here is that the scriptures encouraging us to trust in the Lord and to be not troubled have power in them. We have realized that they were the right spiritual promptings for us if Samuel's outcome is positive, as it seems it will be, and that they were also right for us if his outcome turns out to be just as serious as the original diagnosis suggested. In either case, trust in the Lord brings us comfort and peace.

Everyone in Grant’s family is musical, and they love to perform, especially together. When Grant was a child, he saw how music about the Savior could touch others’ lives. “The very first time we were asked to perform as a family was for the Church,” says Lucie, Grant’s mom. “We did our first show on Temple Square, in Salt Lake City, and had a very spiritual experience. A man came off the street who had never heard of Jesus Christ. A sister missionary, who was acting as a hostess, took our children aside and said, ‘This man was introduced to Jesus Christ by you kids.’”
Lucie says that from that point on, Grant and his siblings were hooked on touching other peoples’ lives through gospel music. But they certainly aren’t the first ones in their family to be devoted to music.
Grant comes from a long line of musicians. His grandfathers on both sides of his family were music educators and music store owners. His mom, Lucie, has a father who focused his career on band and choir. Grant’s dad, Barry, has a father who spent many years performing in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. And together Lucie and Barry own a recording studio in Utah where many of their family’s albums have been created. So it was no surprise that Grant, who is the fifth out of seven musical siblings, would also be gifted with music.
Grant’s musical talent started to show when he was only five years old. Because his four older siblings would play the piano and sing all the time, he decided that he wanted to join in the fun. Although Grant was only in kindergarten and could not yet read music, he says, “I started playing the piano by ear and would pick out melodies on the piano.”
Michael, his brother, adds, “One thing Grant is good at is that he can listen to a difficult piece of music and be able to pick out all the parts on the piano.”
Not only does Grant play the piano, but he also plays the trumpet and the flügelhorn, and, of course, he sings. Such a wide variety of talent was great to have when Grant, Guy, and Michael started to record their first CD. The three brothers had dreamed of making a CD but waited until Michael returned from his mission in Geneva, Switzerland, to start.
Michael says that before he served a mission there was never a temptation to stay home and record music. “I received assurance through prayer that my mission call was going to be right for me,” Michael says. “When I got my call, I knew it was what the Lord wanted for me.”
When he got home two years later, the three boys worked together, using their vocal and instrumental talents to produce a CD. Their goal in releasing it, Michael says, was to give youth and young adults “safe, appropriate, and upbeat music to listen to.” But the brothers will have to put future goals of making another CD on hold for a couple of years because Guy Richey, who goes by both his first and middle names, recently left to serve a full-time mission in Toulouse, France. In this family of musicians, serving the Lord is more important than music.
“Even if we had a top record in America right now, we would still go and serve the Lord. We know that serving is the most important thing,” Michael says.
Making the mission a priority is an example to Grant, who says that his brothers and dad have paved the way for him. Grant wants to serve a mission, too. “Michael’s decision process to go on a mission started with our father, who went on a mission. We look up to our father so much. He’s such a great example to us that we have all felt that going on missions was the right thing to do,” Grant says.
Michael gives Grant his best advice for serving a mission: “Go out with a smile every day and talk to as many people as you can. Be selfless and bring joy into other peoples’ lives. If you’re concerned about other peoples’ needs, the stresses and sacrifices of serving a mission will not be a big deal.”
In three years, when it comes time to serve a mission, Grant will have no doubt that giving up his musical career for two years to serve the Lord is the right thing to do. He is already preparing for that by following the Holy Ghost and building his testimony.
Although Grant can play by ear a song he hears on the radio, he’s also working on training something else—his spiritual ear. “When I feel spiritual promptings, I follow them,” Grant says. “Because I follow them, I’m able to recognize those promptings easier. I try to be better at listening to the Spirit.”
And why does he want to follow the Spirit? Because Grant has a testimony of the gospel. “Ever since I was little, my parents have taught us about the gospel,” he says. “The more I learn about it, the more I know it’s true. My testimony is always strengthened when I’m trying to live more like Christ.”
One way that Grant is able to live the gospel is by listening to good, wholesome music. When asked what advice he would give to teens who struggle with inappropriate music, he answers, “Just know that inappropriate music is what Satan wants you to listen to, and it doesn’t please Heavenly Father when we don’t listen to uplifting things. We don’t always have to listen to Church music, but it has to bring a good spirit.”
Michael agrees. “Music is so spiritual, and it’s so connected to our soul that when we listen to music that is destructive, uses bad language, or even has a feeling that is inappropriate, we know that it’s the wrong music to listen to,” he says. “Finding music that makes your soul and spirit feel good is very important.”
Grant’s mom, Lucie, says that good music is always playing in their home, and that creates a loving atmosphere. “It’s never quiet in our home; somebody is always singing or playing the piano,” she says. As if on cue, the family sings “Love at Home” (Hymns, no. 294) in perfect harmony. No, it is never quiet in the Gibbons’ home, but a spirit of love resides there. Music is a big deal to Grant and his family, but serving the Lord always comes first.

After completing a full-time mission in the Brazil São Paulo North Mission, Elder Koch studied statistics at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, USA. “On a trip back to Brazil, I visited the ward of a friend, where I met my future wife,” said Elder Koch. “She walked up to me and asked me if I was married.” After an eight-month, long-distance courtship—and only 15 actual days together—he married Liliane Michele Ludwig on April 26, 1988, in the São Paulo Brazil Temple. They have two children.

During the turbulent hours prior to his departure for Carthage Jail, the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother, Hyrum, alighted into a boat and were about to cross the Mississippi River to deflect the attention of the marauders who were trying to murder him. His intention, of course, was to remove himself so that the mobs would leave the Saints in peace. However, as they were crossing the river, Joseph felt inspired to return back to Nauvoo.

Probably that decision cost him his life. Yet his death has brought about a zeal by the members of the Church and a determination to continue on in spite of even insurmountable odds. His martyrdom is a witness that Joseph Smith is the prophet of the restoration, and that he sealed his testimony with his own blood.

A few weeks ago, it was my privilege to dedicate a monument to the memory of Ellen Pucell Unthank. It stands on the campus of Southern Utah University in Cedar City, Utah. It is a bronze figure, beautiful and engaging. It is of a little nine-year-old girl, standing with one foot tiptoe, her hair blowing back in the wind, a smile on her face, eagerly looking forward.
Ellen Pucell, as she was named, was born in a beautiful area of England where the hills are soft and rolling and the grass is forever green. Her parents, Margaret and William Pucell, were converts to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. From the time of their baptism in 1837 until the spring of 1856, they had scrimped and saved to go to the Zion of their people in the valleys of the Rocky Mountains of America. Now that was possible if they were willing to pull a handcart one thousand miles across a wilderness. They accepted that challenge, as did hundreds of their fellow converts.
Margaret and William took with them their two daughters, Maggie, fourteen, and Ellen, nine. They said good-bye to loved ones they would never again see in mortality. Near the end of May they set sail from Liverpool with 852 of their convert associates. My wife’s grandmother, thirteen-year-old Mary Goble, was a part of that company and, I like to think, played with those little girls aboard ship.
After six weeks at sea, they landed at Boston and took the steam train to Iowa City. They had expected their handcarts and wagons would be ready. They were not. There was a serious and disastrous delay. It was not until late in July that they began the long march, first to Winter Quarters on the Missouri and from there to the Rocky Mountains.
The Pucells were assigned to the Martin Handcart Company. The Goble family, my wife’s forebears, became a part of the Cluff Wagon Company, which followed the handcarts to give help if needed.
With high expectation they began their journey. Through sunlight and storm, through dust and mud, they trudged beside the Platte River through all of the month of September and most of October. On October 19, they reached the last crossing of the Platte, a little west of the present city of Casper, Wyoming. The river was wide, the current strong, and chunks of ice were floating in the water. They were now traveling without sufficient food. Bravely they waded through the icy stream. A terrible storm arose with fierce winds bringing drifting sand, hail, and snow. When they climbed the far bank of the river, their wet clothing froze to their bodies. Exhausted, freezing, and without strength to go on, some quietly sat down, and while they sat, they died.
Ellen’s mother, Margaret, became sick. Her husband lifted her onto the cart. They were now climbing in elevation toward the Continental Divide, and it was uphill all the way. Can you see this family in your imagination?—the mother too sick and weak to walk, the father thin and emaciated, struggling to pull the cart as the two little girls push from behind with swirling, cold winds about them, and around them are hundreds of others similarly struggling.
They came to a stream of freezing water. The father, while crossing, slipped on a rock and fell. Struggling to his feet, he reached the shore, wet and chilled. Sometime later he sat down to rest. He quietly died, his senses numbed by the cold. His wife died five days later. I do not know how or where their frozen bodies were buried in that desolate, white wilderness. I do know that the ground was frozen and that the snow was piled in drifts and that the two little girls were now orphans.
Between 135 and 150 of the Martin company alone perished along that trail of suffering and death. It was in these desperate and terrible circumstances—hungry, exhausted, their clothes thin and ragged—that they were found by the rescue party. As the rescuers appeared on the western horizon breaking a trail through the snow, they seemed as angels of mercy. And indeed they were. The beleaguered emigrants shouted for joy, some of them. Others, too weak to shout, simply wept and wept and wept.
There was now food to eat and some warmer clothing. But the suffering was not over, nor would it ever end in mortality. Limbs had been frozen, and the gangrenous flesh sloughed off from the bones.
The carts were abandoned, and the survivors were crowded into the wagons of the rescuers. The long rough journey of three hundred, four hundred, even five hundred miles between them and this valley was especially slow and tedious because of the storms. On November 30, 104 wagons, loaded with suffering human cargo, came into the Salt Lake Valley. Word of their expected arrival had preceded them. It was Sunday, and again the Saints were gathered in the Tabernacle. Brigham Young stood before the congregation and said:
“As soon as this meeting is dismissed I want the brethren and sisters to repair to their homes. …
“The afternoon meeting will be omitted, for I wish the sisters to … prepare to give those who have just arrived a mouthful of something to eat, and to wash them and nurse them. …
“Some you will find with their feet frozen to their ankles; some are frozen to their knees and some have their hands frosted … we want you to receive them as your own children, and to have the same feeling for them” (quoted in Hafen, Handcarts to Zion, p. 139).
The two orphan girls, Maggie and Ellen, were among those with frozen limbs. Ellen’s were the most serious. The doctor in the valley, doing the best he could, amputated her legs just below the knees. The surgical tools were crude. There was no anesthesia. The stumps never healed. She grew to womanhood, married William Unthank, and bore and reared an honorable family of six children. Moving about on those stumps, she served her family, her neighbors, and the Church with faith and good cheer and without complaint, though she was never without pain. Her posterity are numerous, and among them are educated and capable men and women who love the Lord whom she loved and who love the cause for which she suffered.

A BYU football player sat on the bench every game for nearly three years. I was especially interested because his father and I had been missionaries together and I knew the boy. Commitment and patience paid off when this young man, Brandon Doman, found himself as the starting quarterback in the final game of the season against the University of Utah. Some of you may have seen the game.
With less than a minute to go BYU was behind. After a sack it was 4th down and 13. The Cougars had 83 yards to go for a winning touchdown.
That seemed an impossible situation: a new quarterback, the team back against a wall, too little time, and only one down left for long yardage to keep even a remote chance of winning alive.
Think of the pressure. Think of the opportunity. Brandon stepped into a dejected huddle and said, “Alright you guys, this is what it is all about! Everyone do his job and let’s win this game!”
The team left the huddle focused and resolute, empowered by renewed vision and by someone they trusted. Brandon called the play and completed a very difficult 34 yard pass on the sideline. First down. Then, another pass for 36 yards. On fourth down Brandon plunged through the Ute defenses for a touchdown to send Coach Edwards into retirement a winner.