Gospel Story Finder

After my wife and I were baptized in January 1951, many of our neighbors shunned us, sometimes crossing over the street so they would not meet us face to face. This did not affect our attitude, however, and we would greet them normally. It was not long before they would come to us and say, “We have a child who is ill, would you pray for her?” Or, “I have a problem. Would you please give me some counsel and advice?” There is never any need to fear opposition, criticism, or persecution, for we know what will be the outcome. The Lord’s work goes forward even more strongly, for “the works, and the designs, and the purposes of God cannot be frustrated, neither can they come to naught.
“Remember, remember that it is not the work of God that is frustrated, but the work of men” (D&C 3:1, 3).

Adina N., from Switzerland, learned how family members can help one another develop talents as they enjoy wholesome recreational activities together.2 Her family plans a monthly family outing where they learn more about each other’s hobbies. “We have the opportunity to give our siblings a deeper insight into our life and our passions,” she says. One time, her father taught the family about dog training (below). “It was nice to see his enthusiasm and how happy he was to share an important part of his life and hobby with us,” Adina remembers.
Through these family activities, Adina has developed many skills. She has also noticed more peace in her life: “The family is a place where I can rest from the stress of everyday life and breathe peacefully, as well as gain strength and know that I don’t have to stand alone in this life. I am thankful for this because the world today is so fast and loud. I am glad I have a place to regenerate and rest.”

I recall attending the funeral of an older man who had taken his life. His wife had died years earlier, and as his health declined, he felt he had less and less of a reason to live. Gradually he found himself confined to the four walls of his home. A semi-invalid, he was unable to visit friends or go grocery shopping. His food was delivered to his door. He missed going to church, missed regular fellowship with other members of his priesthood quorum.
Although he wasn’t able to get about, the doctor assured him he could live many more years. “You neither smoke nor drink,” the doctor said. “You’ve taken good care of yourself. Other than the fact that you’re confined to your house and wheelchair, I give you a clean bill of health.”
While the doctor was trying to be encouraging, the man felt discouraged. This good brother felt his earthly life no longer had any value, and he wanted to join his beloved wife in the spirit world. The more he thought about death, the more appealing it became to him. He had been a faithful member of the Church all his life; he had served two missions and had been diligent in several leadership positions at different times in his life. But as he thought about the release he would find through death, his mind became confused. He obviously concluded that taking his own life would solve his problems.
I visited with the family after the funeral. As you might expect, they were greatly disturbed by what their father and grandfather had done. Their feelings ranged from grief to anger to guilt. “I should have noticed how depressed he was,” one daughter said. “Then I could have helped him and prevented this.”
One son spoke rather harshly. “I never thought my father was a stupid man. But what can you say about this? If he loved us, he would never have done such a thing!”
A comment by the youngest son captured the despair they all felt: “There is no hope for dad now, is there,” he said. It was more a statement than a question. “All the good things he did throughout his life don’t matter anymore. Now that he’s taken his life, he will be in the telestial kingdom throughout eternity.” Then he wept.

As my wife, Nuria, and I were taught the restored gospel of Jesus Christ in 1982 by missionaries, they asked me the following question: “Do you believe there are true prophets on Earth today?” I had never been asked that question before. As I started thinking of what I knew of true prophets, a scripture came to my mind. “Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves” (Matthew 7:15).
I thought, if God warns me of false prophets, then that means that there must be true prophets. My response to the missionaries was, “Yes, there are true prophets on earth.” A warm feeling came to my heart when I said that, and I felt that it was true. The Holy Ghost was testifying in my heart that it was true. I just did not know it at the time. The smiling and loving faces of the missionaries also confirmed to me that it was the right answer. Then they asked an inspired question, “If there are true prophets on earth now, where are they?” I could not think of an answer, for I had never heard any living person call himself a prophet.
It was at that point that they taught us about Joseph Smith and the Restoration of the gospel. In Matthew 7:16 we read, “Ye shall know them by their fruits. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles?” Along with the Restoration, the elders spoke of the Book of Mormon, as a true fruit of the Restoration.
I’ve since come to know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God and a second witness, with the Holy Bible, of Jesus Christ. Nuria and I were subsequently baptized. We had fasted and prayed to confirm in our hearts that Joseph Smith indeed was a true prophet, that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the Lord’s true Church on earth, and that His desire for Nuria and me was that we be baptized.
We continued attending Church and learning the gospel from study and by faith. We gradually grew in our conversion and in a stronger faith in Jesus Christ. I knew then, and I know now, of the truths of the divine role of our Savior Jesus Christ and of His true Church on earth.
Once we heard the words of our Savior Jesus Christ through His living prophets, we acted quickly and obeyed. The Holy Ghost then confirmed to us the truthfulness of those words and of our obedience. Our good choices have led to blessings and direction in life from Jesus Christ.

For example, the next summer I was concerned about the friends my teenage daughter was spending so much time with. But when I tried to talk to her about the situation, she discounted what I said and became more distant. While I was jogging and thinking about the proclamation one morning, the Spirit highlighted in my thoughts the last sentence in paragraph seven: “Extended families should lend support when needed.” I slowed the pace of my jog, and an image of my younger sister came into my mind. This sister had experienced many trials in her life and was now nearly full term with her seventh pregnancy. The impression I had was that we, as extended family, should lend her support right now. So I bought a plane ticket for my daughter and asked her to spend a week serving in my sister’s home.
In this distant place an interesting thing happened. During the day my daughter found joy serving my sister’s family. And after the children were asleep, she and my sister had many long talks. My sister was able to talk to my daughter in a way that I had been unable to. She told her how decisions she had made as a teenager had produced a lifetime of challenges. When my daughter returned home, something had changed in her. She began making choices that blessed her life. My sister, her family, my daughter, and I were all blessed by this trip, which was prompted by the words of the proclamation.

1 This true story happened to me when I was twelve years old. I lived in a little cottage with my parents; I had no brothers or sisters. Three things were dominant in our English village: the church, the school, and the mayor.
2 We didn’t have television or movie theaters. The highlight of our year was the Garden Fete and Horticultural Show, which had booths and games during the day and a barbecue and a barn dance at the mayor’s in the evening. We liked the mayor very much.
3 Every Sunday we went to church. It was a very small one, but it had a large arch stretching from one side of the church to the other. On the arch were these words from Matthew 18:20: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.”
4 P. C. Claris was the only policeman in the village, and as a special privilege, we children were allowed to call him “Clarry.” He would play with us and tell us stories. He knew everyone of us by name and always had treats in his tunic for us.
5 The year that I was twelve, I went to the big senior school. I was very small for my age—probably about as big as you at eight or nine—and on my first visit, a prefect (student monitor) lifted me up so that I could see through the tiny window of the big classroom door.
6 A few weeks before Christmas, snow fell so hard that after lunch our teacher announced that we were to leave for home right away. Great! I thought. A whole half-day off! What I didn’t know was that the snow would prevent me from leaving my home for several weeks!
7 Two friends and I cycled to and from school each day along a deserted footpath with a field on one side and a tall hedge on the other. That day the snow was forming drifts against the hedge. My bicycle had a heavy frame, and it became harder and harder to lift it over the drifts. Our skirts quickly became wet and clung to our legs.
8 All our parents worked and would not be home before six, so no one would be waiting for us. The journey normally took less than thirty minutes, and we had already been out nearly three hours! As a sense of hopelessness overwhelmed us, we remembered the scripture on the church archway. Well, there were three of us, so we prayed—oh, how we prayed! Then we picked up our bicycles and trudged on.
9 About ten minutes later we heard a familiar whistle—and turning the corner came Clarry! “Hello,” he said. “Something told me that I would find you here.” He leaned our bicycles against a pole, saying that he’d come back for them later. He stooped down, and I climbed onto his back. Then he picked up a child in each arm and carried all three of us toward the village.
10 Mine was the first house. While we changed our clothes, Clarry made us a hot drink and shoveled a path from the back door to the toilet—our toilet was not indoors, as I expect yours is, but was in a small building in the yard. Then he wrapped my schoolmates in blankets and took them home.
11 There are two morals to this story. First, it saddens me to hear young people today calling policeman rude names and laughing at them. I don’t expect that you do this, but you may have friends who do it. Most schools nowadays have visits from policemen; they enjoy working with children. I hope that you have as much fun with your policemen as we had with Clarry.
12 The other moral to my story is that earnest prayers are answered. Remember Clarry’s first words to us that day: “Something told me that I would find you here.” We knew Who had told Clarry where to find us.

One cold winter morning when I was about eleven years old, I woke up with the strongest feeling that something was wrong. I went upstairs to see my parents, but they weren’t there. In about five or ten minutes the phone rang, and it was my mother calling from the hospital. She told me that my father had been in a car accident.
My father worked late hours at a dairy that was an hour’s drive from home. That night he had had to stay past his usual quitting time. As he was driving home, he fell asleep and his car rolled about five times. My father was severely injured when he was thrown through the windshield. He landed in a puddle of mud and snow. The cold helped stop the bleeding, but when he was taken to the hospital, the doctors who examined him didn’t expect him to live.
I’ll never forget the bishop and his two counselors coming to our home that afternoon. They gathered our family together, and the bishop offered a prayer that my father’s life would be spared and that he would return to his normal health. As I listened to the prayer, I had a very warm, strong feeling that my father wouldn’t pass away.
He was in a coma for three weeks, but the bishop’s prayer was answered. In fact, a highway patrolman, a friend of my bishop’s, wrote a book in which he talked about the worst accident he had ever seen, in which the man’s life was spared. That man was my father.

When a new school administrator announced that students would have to pay a fee to take any exam, I felt dismayed. With little money, rising costs of living, and a failing economy, I knew I would have a hard time finding the money necessary to take my upcoming tests.
Our Church leaders emphasize the importance of education, and I wanted to continue studying despite the new hardship facing me. I decided to ask some relatives who lived nearby if they could help me pay my exam fees. Sadly, they told me they would help me only if I denounced my faith. As the only Church member in my family, I was crushed to hear their response.
I then called my mom and told her about the new fees. I explained that despite my efforts, I did not have the money I needed. My heart nearly broke when my mom told me that her employer had not paid her salary in six months and that she was struggling to provide for our family. Because of this, she did not have any money left over.
I did my best to continue to have faith. I found comfort in the hymns, especially “Come, Come, Ye Saints” (Hymns, no. 30) and “Let Us All Press On” (Hymns, no. 243). My future, however, did not seem promising. Without the necessary money, I missed my first two exams. The night before my third examination, I poured out my soul to Heavenly Father. I expressed to Him my desire to get an education and my determination to eventually graduate, no matter how many tests I missed. I let Him know that I believed He could prepare a way and that because I did not know what more I could do, I was leaving my trial in His hands. I instantly felt like a huge burden was lifted off of my shoulders, and a spirit of peace and happiness fell over me.
The next day I awoke and continued my habit of preparing for the examination. I’d decided to never stop studying so that if something happened and I was able to take an exam, I would be ready. After some time, a knock on the door interrupted my studying. I was surprised to see my mother. She told me that she’d just received a paycheck for the six months of wages she had not yet been paid for! After shouting for joy, we rushed to pay the fee.
I was able to take all of my remaining exams. I know that Heavenly Father provided a miracle that day. He wants us all to succeed. Sometimes this requires us to face adversity so that we become humble. I know that our trials can strengthen our testimonies and that Heavenly Father really does watch over us.

1828–1905
“Nothing other than pure devotion to [my] faith has brought me here.”
He was a M?ori chief in New Zealand.
When missionaries came to their country, he and his wife, Mere, joined the Church.
He went to Utah to do temple work for his people.
He went back to New Zealand as a missionary. He did family history work there and taught the gospel.
As quoted in the Salt Lake Tribune, July 20, 1894, 8.

That peace was not always shared by those closest to him. Two weeks after President Young’s illness and vision, his brother, Joseph Young, called on him in his office and “stated that he thought 100 lbs Provisions”—the announced minimum for the trek west—“very little for each Pioneer.” Some months before, he had told Brigham that getting the Saints safely across Iowa would require as great a miracle as Moses leading the children of Israel through the wilderness. Should they now expect a second miracle? With so little, he insisted, any mishap at all could endanger the whole enterprise. For Brigham Young, that amount—all they could expect to obtain—simply must do. “Brigham replied he wanted all to stay here, who had not faith to go with that amount.” 17 Though not foolhardy, President Young was realistic. After doing the best they could, the Saints had no choice but to depend on the Lord for the rest.

Several years ago, I was basically an atheist.
I had been born Catholic, but from my teenage years until I was 25, I felt as though there was a spiritual gap inside of me. I tried attending different churches, but none of them could quite fill the gap. I decided after a while that it would be easier to give up believing in God than it would be to keep trying to find the right church.
I first learned about the Book of Mormon and Joseph Smith from a TV program about people who buy and sell antiques and other valuable collectible items. Someone in the episode I was watching had brought a very old copy of the Book of Mormon to sell.
As an expert explained what gave the book value, she told a little bit about the history of the Church and the book. The expert told the host, “This is by far the most valuable book you’ve ever had me appraise.”
I was impressed by the book and the story, so I decided to learn more.
I did some research, and the more I learned about Joseph Smith, the more I respected him and related to him.
I too had been searching for truth and didn’t know where to find it.
I too had attended countless churches in search of the right one and hadn’t found it.
As I was scrolling Facebook later, an ad popped up for a page called “Come unto Christ.” I didn’t think much of it. However, something drew me in, and I soon found myself putting my phone number into the site.
A few months later, I received a phone call from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I didn’t answer.
After a quick Google search, I decided to call the number back. The missionaries who answered explained that they’d gotten my information from the Come unto Christ website, and suddenly everything was clear. I’d unknowingly signed up for information from the very Church that I had been learning about.
I started meeting with missionaries and learning more. The spiritual hole inside of me started to be filled. Around the time I was deciding to get baptized, some Christian friends invited me to one of their church campouts.
During the final sermon on the last day of camp, I prayed for God to confirm to me that the Book of Mormon was true. At that exact moment, a student who was studying to be a pastor pulled out the Book of Mormon and said, “Why don’t we read from this book? This book is all about Jesus Christ and is in line with the Bible.” The crowd went silent. I am convinced that this was an answer to my prayer.
After hearing from that student, I felt the Spirit confirm to me that this book is another testament of Jesus Christ. I was baptized soon after.
Since joining the Church, the spiritual hole inside of me has been filled, and my testimony of the Prophet Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon has only continued to grow.
Heavenly Father has helped me know, through prayer and His Spirit, that this is Jesus Christ’s Church. Honestly, I wish I could’ve known about the Church when I was younger. I love this Church. It truly is the Church of Jesus Christ on the earth today.
Cristian Emanuel lives in Argentina. He wants to thank the two sisters who encouraged him to write down his testimony of the gospel.

When I was a boy, I was my mother’s most difficult young child to raise. I had an overabundance of energy. My mother tells me that her greatest fear was that I would not live to see adulthood. I was just too active.
I remember as a young boy sitting in one particular sacrament meeting with our family. My mother had just received a new set of scriptures. This new set combined the entire standard works into one bound edition, and in the very center was lined paper for note-taking.
During the meeting, I asked if I could hold her scriptures. With the hope of promoting my reverence, she handed them down the pew. As I perused her scriptures, I noticed that she had written a personal goal in the note section. To provide context for her goal, I must tell you that I am the second of six children and my name is Brett. My mother had written, in red, just one goal: “Patience with Brett!”
As further evidence to help you understand the challenge my parents faced in raising our family, let me tell you about our family scripture reading. Each morning, my mother read the Book of Mormon to us during breakfast. During this time, my older brother, Dave, and I would sit quietly but irreverently. To be completely honest, we weren’t listening. We were reading the print on the cereal boxes.
Finally, one morning, I decided to square up with my mother. I exclaimed, “Mom, why are you doing this to us? Why are you reading the Book of Mormon every morning?” I then made a statement that I am embarrassed to admit to. In fact, I can’t believe I actually said it. I told her, “Mom, I am not listening!”
Her loving response was a defining moment in my life. She said, “Son, I was at a meeting where President Marion G. Romney taught about the blessings of scripture reading. During this meeting, I received a promise that if I would read the Book of Mormon to my children every day, I would not lose them.” She then looked me straight in the eyes and, with absolute determination, said, “And I will not lose you!”
Her words pierced my heart. Notwithstanding my imperfections, I was worth saving! She taught me the eternal truth that I am a son of a loving Heavenly Father. I learned that no matter what the circumstance, I was worth it. This was a perfect moment for an imperfect little boy.

My grandma lives alone, and it’s sometimes hard for her to do everything by herself. One day she was trying to fix the bathroom faucet. She was lying on the floor on her back, reaching up under the counter trying to get a pipe to stop leaking. I was sitting by her, watching.
I said, “Grandma, let’s say a prayer so Heavenly Father can help you.” My grandma said that was a great idea. Grandma said the prayer. It didn’t take long for the pipes to seal up tight.
Grandma told me she was thankful for my faith. It helped her to be reminded by a little girl like me.Quinncy Dawne Kindall, age 3, with help from her grandmotherNampa, Idaho

When Liisa, 20, first heard about the job at the Delfinaario (dolphin aquarium), she was excited. She had good qualifications. In the Finnish equivalent of high school, she’d studied biology, but also math, science, physics, and chemistry.

“All those things are part of the job,” she explains. “Plus that, I’ve always been interested in animals.” And the job would help her earn money to pay for college in Sweden. Her enthusiasm and background paid off. She was hired.

In 1982, I was finishing my associate’s degree in topography at a technical school.
At the end of the year, a classmate invited me to have a conversation. I remember that we left the other members of the class and went to an area beside a sports court. When we got there, he spoke to me about his religious convictions, and not only did he show me a book, but he gave me the book. Honestly, I do not remember all the words that he said, but I remember that moment very well and the way I felt when he said, “I want to bear my testimony to you that this book is true and that the gospel of Jesus Christ has been restored.”
After our conversation, I went home, turned a few pages in the book, and placed it on a shelf. Because we were at the end of the year and it was the last year of my topography degree, I did not really pay much attention to the book or to my classmate who had shared it with me. The name of the book you can already guess. Yes, it was the Book of Mormon.
Five months later, the missionaries came into my house; they were leaving just as I was coming home from work. I invited them back in. We sat down in the little patio in front of my house, and they taught me.
In my search for the truth, I asked them which church was true and how I could find it. The missionaries taught me that I could obtain that answer for myself. With great expectation and desire, I accepted their challenge to read several chapters from the Book of Mormon. I prayed with a sincere heart and with real intent (see Moroni 10:4–5). The answer to my question was clear, and several days later—more precisely on May 1, 1983—I was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Today, when I think about the sequence of events that occurred, I see clearly how important the courage of my classmate was when he bore his testimony about the restored truth and presented me with tangible proof of the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ, even the Book of Mormon. That simple act, but of profound significance to me, created a connection between me and the missionaries when I met them.
The truth had been presented to me, and after my baptism, I became a disciple of Jesus Christ. During the following years, and with the help of very special people such as leaders, teachers, and friends, and also through my own personal study, I learned that when I decided to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, I had accepted the task of not only defending the truth but also proclaiming it.

Recently I received an assignment to minister to a sister neither my companion nor I knew well. As I counseled with Jess, my 16-year-old ministering companion, she wisely suggested, “We need to get to know her.”
We immediately decided that a selfie and an introductory text were in order. I held the phone, and Jess pushed the button to take the photo. Our first ministering opportunity was a companionship effort.
On our first visit, we asked our sister if there was anything we could include in our prayers on her behalf. She shared a tender personal challenge and said she would so welcome our prayers. Her honesty and confidence brought an instant bond of love. What a sweet privilege to remember her in my daily prayers.

The people who live in the house are Don and Clara Goudy and their seven children—four boys and three girls.
Until recently the Goudys had lived in the East Millcreek 14th Ward of the Salt Lake Mt. Olympus Stake. And as one neighbor, Doris Peterson, said: “They fit right in, and felt at home, and were very loved.”
The people in the ward describe Clara as one of the “bravest, strongest women, we know.” “She has been so diligent in spiritual things.” “A fantastic person.” “We all loved her.”
They remember Don when he first came into the ward. He was a “vital young man, a hard and willing worker.”
Then the ravages of disease began to take their toll on Don and, suddenly, Don and Clara had some hard things to face and some difficult decisions to make.
Don could no longer work hard to provide for those he loved. He became progressively worse, and at length he couldn’t work at all. Don and Clara decided to take their family back to Santaquin where they had been raised. There Clara’s mother had a piece of land on which a home could be built. It seemed the right place to assume the heavier load that was coming to her. And she could be near her 78-year-old mother.
In the hearts of far-sighted Aaronic Priesthood MIA leaders and a wise bishop was the knowledge that in service young people grow. Ideas for service were constantly being discussed. Young men and women were continually involved in the discussions.
Then three young men—candidates for the Eagle Scout Progress Award—had an idea. Could they take a lawn down to the Goudy’s new home? They knew Brother Goudy couldn’t put it in, and maybe Sister Goudy could use their help.
John Benson, the Aaronic Priesthood MIA young men’s president, encouraged the boys.
When first approached, Clara was a little reluctant. She and Don had always taken care of themselves and their own. What they had, they had shared. It had been enough.
But now the prospects for immediate landscaping were slim. Clara thought about that, but mostly she thought about the teachings of the gospel. “Yes,” she thought, “this is the gospel at work.” And then she told them they could come.
So Brother Benson and the three boys, Ted Bullen, Robert Purcell, and Gary Buehner, went down to Santaquin to see their friends, to plan out a yard, and to see what the project would cost.
It was decided that Gary would take care of fencing the property. Ted would see that the lawn was planted, and Robert volunteered to do the shrubbery, trees, and planting of flowers.
They measured the yard. They also had Sister Goudy’s desires in mind. Next they each went to experts to get some first-class help in planning the landscaping.
With the plans completed they proceeded to line up help and materials. Each boy organized his own project and work crew. As they worked the enthusiasm and support mounted.
Others in the ward wanted to help. They donated funds. They dug up shrubs and trees, taking them from their own yards. They went to the state capitol and were given some flats of flowers that were surplus.
As the project grew Bishop Lewis Farr counseled his people to work with the young people on this project as fathers and mothers would work with their own sons and daughters, assisting not only with money but also with physical labor on the planting day.
As Bob Purcell put it: “We had made our plans in detail, and it didn’t take too long when we got down there.”
Most of the materials and hand tools came with them from Salt Lake City, but several yards of top soil were needed. Contact was made with the bishop of the Santaquin Ward, and he saw to it that the top soil was delivered the night before. The Santaquin people also provided a tractor.
Brother Benson and the three boys went down early on the day of the project. He had grown up on a farm and knew how to handle the tractor. So with the boys directing, he spread the top soil, and by 7:30 A.M. they were ready for the work group. Between 50 and 60 people—youths and their parents and leaders—came down to help. A little later in the morning five or six people from the Santaquin Ward brought over their power tools and joined in.
Under Bob’s direction they dug holes and planted the shrubs and the trees. They planted the flowers, and the girls built a little stone path through the grass and edged the flower planting area with rocks Clara had been saving.
Gary and his crew dug post holes and cemented the poles in place for the chain link fence. They also prepared the framework, put up the cedar fence, and stained it.
At the same time Ted and his crews were rolling and planting the lawn, others were covering it with peat moss and wetting it down.
Then suddenly they were through. They had finished everything on their blueprints, and there was an entire yard growing.
As Alice Buehner, Aaronic Priesthood MIA young woman’s president, reported: “Not a whole day and it was accomplished. We just stood around and gazed at it.”
Then Don Goudy, who is now almost bedfast, came out of the house and walked out onto the porch. It was a tender moment as he looked around at what his friends had done for him. He said simply, “Thank you for all you’ve done.”
As Sister Buehner said: “It made me want to cry. I was really deeply moved.”
In addition to helping with the yard, the Wayne Ottleys who live in the ward went into the house and draped it.
Brother Benson summed it up this way: “By 3:00 there was a new yard. It was really an enjoyable day. And very exciting.”
Because of the spirit that was there that day, young and old felt a new commitment to service, and the spirit was catching. Since then the Santaquin Ward itself has turned out to put in lawns for two other families in need within their little town.
On the way back to Salt Lake City the workers stopped for a swim, but nobody seems to recall that. When you ask the young people about the experience, this is what they say:
Susan Horman: “When we left it looked really special. Flowers everywhere and trees … it was a good feeling.”
Steve Farr: “At first I didn’t think it would be so neat to just waste a day down there, but when we finally finished, it was really neat. It sure looked good.”
Karen Horman: “It was fun. I would gladly do another project like that. They were really happy we came, and they were really sorry when we had to leave.”
Sister Buehner evaluates: “Our young people felt very responsible. It was a real growing experience.”
The three boys who planned the whole project and directed its execution were most explicit.
Gary summed it all up this way: “It turned out pretty fun. I’d probably do it again. We knew that they needed the help.”
Ted declared: “The Goudys are some of my best friends. I’ve talked to them several times since. They said how great it was and how thankful they were. It was a testimony builder to work on something like that. It wasn’t just completing an Eagle project, but it was helping someone and feeling good about that.”
Bob reported: “I enjoyed it. I enjoy helping others. I guess that’s what it’s all about really, both Scouts and the Church. It was worth it. I know that much.”
“This was a spiritual experience for our young people,” Brother Benson declared. “In my estimation the only types of experiences that don’t get old are spiritual experiences. Our young people tasted of that at the Goudys, and they are anxious to have that renewed.”
But for the young people Bob summed it up best: “I’m just glad that we did it.”

In a recent stake conference, the Lord’s tender mercies were evident in the touching testimony of a young wife and mother of four whose husband was slain in Iraq in December of 2003. This stalwart sister recounted how, after being notified of her husband’s death, she received his Christmas card and message. In the midst of the abrupt reality of a dramatically altered life came to this good sister a timely and tender reminder that indeed families can be together forever. With permission I quote from that Christmas card:
“To the best family in the world! Have a great time together and remember the true meaning of Christmas! The Lord has made it possible for us to be together forever. So even when we are apart, we will still be together as a family.
“God bless and keep y’all safe and grant this Christmas to be our gift of love from us to Him above!!!
“All my love, Daddy and your loving husband!”
Clearly, the husband’s reference to being apart in his Christmas greeting referred to the separation caused by his military assignment. But to this sister, as a voice from the dust from a departed eternal companion and father, came a most needed spiritual reassurance and witness. As I indicated earlier, the Lord’s tender mercies do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence. Faithfulness, obedience, and humility invite tender mercies into our lives, and it is often the Lord’s timing that enables us to recognize and treasure these important blessings.

One time he had all the Boy Scouts helping him build a garage. It was a gray, bitter kind of day, and the wind howled around the corners of the building and practically knocked us flat. It didn’t seem to bother Brother Hanson much, though. He was bundled up in a huge goose-down jacket that made him look like a polar bear.
After a while we started to complain. Bryan even suggested that in this wind the garage might easily blow over and that perhaps we should leave the work for another day.
That’s when Brother Hanson gathered us all together on one side of the building, where we were partly protected from the gale. He patted the concrete foundation. “Feel this.”
We all felt it.
Then he patted the ground underneath. We felt that too. It was, being late autumn and the soil being rather clayish, about as bendable as a steel beam. “There’s a lesson to be learned here,” he announced.
We all groaned.
“In the scriptures—” he began.
“In the Book of Mormon?” asked Bryan, who was always eager to know what came from where.
Brother Hanson nodded. “In the Book of Mormon as well as in the Bible, it says that if you build your house upon a rock, which is the gospel, and the rain descends and the floods come and the winds blow, which are the trials and temptations of life, your house will not fall. That’s a good lesson, don’t you think?”
We all agreed that it was.
Then, just to emphasize his point, he sent us all back to work in the wind.

This story took place in England.
Jonah ate his last bite of food and smiled. Dinner was always more fun when the missionaries came over.
“We want to share a message with you about service,” said Sister Kearl. “Why is serving others important?”
“Because it makes Jesus happy!” said Eliza, Jonah’s little sister.
“You’re right! It makes Him very happy. And when we help others, it makes us happy too,” said Sister Christensen. “Do you know anyone who needs help?”
Jonah thought for a minute. “I can’t think of a person, but our garden at school could use some help.”
“Good idea,” said Mum.
Jonah’s school had a garden where they could do outdoor activities. But no one had taken care of the garden for a long time. The bushes were overgrown. There were lots of weeds too.
“We’d love to help you with that!” said Sister Kearl. “Who can we invite to help clean it with us?”
“Our cousins!” said Jacob, Jonah’s brother.
“And our Primary class,” said Jonah.
The next day, Mum talked to someone at the school to get permission. They picked a day to clean the garden. Then Mum helped Jonah and his siblings call their cousins and Primary class.
A few weeks later, Jonah and his family met the missionaries at the school. Their cousins and Primary friends were there too. It was time to get to work!
Jonah put on a pair of big rubber garden gloves. “Look, Mum. My hands are huge!”
Mum laughed. “You can use those huge hands to help trim these bushes.”
She handed Jonah some clippers that looked like giant scissors. Then she helped him cut away the dead branches.
“This is fun,” Jonah said.
While Jonah trimmed, Eliza helped dig around the garden. Jacob helped Daddy build a new bird house. The others pulled weeds and gathered sticks. They put them in big blue plastic bags. Even Jonah’s youngest brother, Ezra, helped by picking up rocks.
Soon the garden was clean. Jonah counted the bags they had filled. “There are 13 bags!” he said. “We cleaned up so much rubbish.”
Sister Christensen smiled. “Now we need everyone’s big muscles to help us carry these to the car.”
Jonah, Jacob, and Eliza each grabbed a bag. Jonah felt happy as he lifted the last one into the car. Helping the missionaries had been fun. He wanted to be a missionary someday too. Until then, there were lots of ways he could serve. He could hardly wait to think of his next project!