Gospel Story Finder

The first of these callings came when I was a deacon. I attended with my family the branch of the Church in Frankfurt, Germany. We were blessed with many wonderful people in our little branch. One was our branch president, Brother Landschulz. I admired him a great deal, even though he always seemed to be rather serious, very official, and most of the time dressed in a dark suit. I remember as a young man joking with my friends how old-fashioned our branch president appeared.
It makes me laugh to think about this now because it is very possible that the youth of the Church today view me in a very similar way.
One Sunday, President Landschulz asked if he could speak with me. My first thought was, “What did I do wrong?” My mind raced over the many things I might have done that could have inspired this branch-president-to-deacon talk.
President Landschulz invited me into a small classroom—our chapel did not have an office for the branch president—and there he extended a call to me to serve as deacons quorum president.
“This is an important position,” he said, and then he took his time and described why. He explained what he and the Lord expected of me and how I could receive help.
I don’t remember much of what he said, but I do remember well how I felt. A sacred, divine Spirit filled my heart as he spoke. I could feel that this was the Savior’s Church. And I felt that the calling he had extended was inspired by the Holy Ghost. I remember walking out of that tiny classroom feeling quite a bit taller than before.
It has been nearly 60 years since that day, and I still treasure these feelings of trust and love.
As I was thinking back on this experience, I tried to remember just how many deacons there were in our branch at the time. To my best recollection, I believe there were two. However, this may be a huge exaggeration.
But it really didn’t matter whether there was one deacon or a dozen. I felt honored, and I wanted to serve to the best of my ability and not disappoint either my branch president or the Lord.
I realize now that the branch president could have merely gone through the motions when he called me to this position. He could have simply told me in the hallway or during our priesthood meeting that I was the new deacons quorum president.
Instead, he spent time with me and helped me understand not only the what of my assignment and new responsibility but, much more important, the why.
That is something I will never forget.
The point of this story is not merely to describe how to extend callings in the Church (although this was a wonderful lesson on the proper way to do it). It is an example to me of the motivating power of priesthood leadership that awakens the spirit and inspires action.

Muhammed scanned the cliffs anxiously. It was time to take his small herd of goats home to the Bedouin camp, but one had disappeared among the rocky hills that swelled up against the cloudless blue sky. Where could that naughty goat be? Muhammed wondered.
Nimbly he scrambled over the rocks, calling out to the little animal. Suddenly he caught sight of a small, partially-hidden opening high on the hillside. Muhammed had explored caves like this one before. Perhaps his goat was inside.
He picked up some pebbles and threw them into the opening. To his surprise, instead of a goat’s bleating, the sound of something breaking met his ears.
“Musa!” he called excitedly to another Bedouin shepherd boy who was herding his own goats nearby.
Musa’s face looked puzzled under his white keffiyah (head covering), but he quickly joined his friend. The lost goat was temporarily forgotten as the two boys scurried over the rocks toward the hole and crawled inside. They stood blinking for a moment, growing accustomed to the dim light in the cave; then their eyes grew round at what they saw. The cave floor was covered with broken pottery and other rubble, and tall, dusty jars stood against the cave wall!
Muhammed reached inside one of the jars and pulled out something wrapped in cloth. Removing the covering, he held a tightly rolled bundle of decaying leather with writing upon it. He didn’t know that what he gazed at in wonderment was later to be known as one of the Dead Sea Scrolls, one of this century’s important discoveries from the ancient world.
There are other versions of this story, but it is known that in late 1946 or early 1947, a Bedouin shepherd boy found some of the scrolls in a cave near the Dead Sea.

A superb stake president told me of a stake council meeting in which they were wrestling with a difficult challenge. At one point, he realized that the stake Primary president had not spoken, so he asked if she had any impressions. “Well, actually I have,” she said and then proceeded to share a thought that changed the entire direction of the meeting. The stake president continued, “As she spoke, the Spirit testified to me that she had given voice to the revelation we had been seeking as a council.”

Moses Lwakihugo, from the Democratic Republic of the Congo, lost his father to war in 1997. Moses lived in refugee camps for over 10 years. Now a priesthood leader in the Swahili group in our ward, he said, “I noticed something different about the members of the Church. They actually live what they teach. In other churches I had been a part of, nobody came to visit me. In this ward, people were checking in and bringing meals when my family was sick. I have never seen a church so full of love.”

Elder Norman Seibold leaned forward in his seat. He was anxious to hear what his mission president would say at the emergency meeting in Frankfurt, Germany.
In 1939, German soldiers were marching in the streets and it looked like war would break out at any moment. Elder Seibold knew that the First Presidency had ordered all missionaries to evacuate from Germany and Czechoslovakia. His mission president, President Wood, had told the missionaries to go to the Netherlands.
But now President Wood said there was a big problem. The Netherlands had just closed its border to people leaving Germany, and the missionaries needed to evacuate to Denmark instead. But since the telephone lines were clogged with emergency calls, President Wood couldn’t contact the missionaries throughout Germany to tell them about the change in plans.
Even if the mission president could contact the missionaries, there was another problem. The military would not allow anyone fleeing Germany to travel with more than 10 marks (about $2). The missionaries had already bought train tickets for the Netherlands and had spent most of their money to be obedient to the law. Now they wouldn’t have enough money to buy new train tickets for Denmark. They were stranded!
“Thirty-one missionaries are stranded between here and the border of the Netherlands with no way of contacting me,” President Wood said. “Someone needs to find them and bring them safely to Denmark.”
Elder Seibold volunteered.
President Wood gave the brave elder 500 marks and train tickets to Copenhagen, Denmark. His special assignment was to ride the railway lines between Frankfurt and the border of the Netherlands, searching for the stranded missionaries. The direction of the Spirit would be his only guide.
After four hours on the train, Elder Seibold reached Cologne, Germany. He felt impressed to get off the train there. The busy station was filled with thousands of people anxious to flee Germany. How could he find any missionaries in such an enormous crowd?
Elder Seibold climbed onto a baggage cart and whistled the hymn “Do What Is Right,” which was a well-known signal to gather missionaries. Eight missionaries in the station heard that whistle, and Elder Seibold sent them safely to Denmark.
At some stops, Elder Seibold stayed on the train. At others, he was prompted by the Spirit to get off and whistle for stranded elders. At every station, Elder Seibold risked that the military would find him and put him in jail for travelling with so much money.
At a station in one small village, Elder Seibold didn’t think he would find any missionaries. But the Spirit told him to get off the train and walk into town. He went inside a restaurant and found two elders who had just spent their last pennies on lemonade. Elder Seibold knew he had been guided there, just as surely as if someone had taken him by the hand.
Eventually Elder Seibold rescued 17 missionaries. The other 14 had reached the Netherlands before the border was closed, but Elder Seibold continued searching until he received a spiritual confirmation that his assignment was complete. Because Elder Seibold obeyed the promptings of the Spirit, all 31 missionaries were safe.

I had been on my mission for 13 months when I received a phone call from my mission president informing me of the death of my dear sister Solange. This news broke my heart, and I shed tears of sadness as I remembered the beautiful moments we had spent together throughout her life of nearly 20 years. My pain over losing her was very deep.
As we approached the weekend, I realized that we were coming up on general conference. And in spite of my sorrow and pain, my companion and I went to watch the conference broadcast at the chapel.
Who would have known, but in his talk entitled “Confide in God Unwaveringly,” Elder Ulisses Soares recounted an experience that exactly described my situation. He said, “Years ago while serving as a mission president, I received a phone call from the parents of one of our beloved missionaries informing me of the death of his sister. I remember, in the tenderness of that moment, that missionary and I discussed God’s marvelous plan of salvation for His children and how this knowledge would comfort him.
“Although he was stunned and saddened by that adversity, this missionary—through his tears and with faith in God—rejoiced in his sister’s life. He expressed unwavering confidence in the tender mercies of the Lord. Resolutely, he told me that he would continue to serve his mission with all faith and diligence in order to be worthy of the promises that God had for him and his family. In this time of need, that faithful missionary turned his heart to God, placed all of his trust in Him, and renewed his commitment to serve the Lord with faith and with all diligence” (Liahona, May 2017, 35).
Dear brothers and sisters, I felt that every word, every sentence of this talk was addressed directly to me—and what a source of comfort! I testify that God speaks to us every six months through the mouths of His servants in general conference.

More than forty years ago I was a missionary in the British Isles. That was the time of the British Empire when it could truthfully be said that the sun never set on British soil, and when the British flag waved over a fourth of the world. In those days the peace of the world was peace in the British Empire. Now the British Empire is gone; its parts are independent nations, and the British Empire, symbolized by the lion that roared so loudly, is old and sick and weak.
It is easy for me to believe that the nations shall tremble when the Son of God comes again to claim his kingdom, for when that day arrives, “The Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then shall He sit upon the throne of glory:
“And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his sheep from the goats. (Matt. 25: 31–32.) There will be a judgment not only of the nations but also of the people. “Behold,” said the Lord, “now it is called today until the coming of the Son of man, and verily it is a day of sacrifice, and a day for the tithing of my people; for he that is tithed shall not be burned at his coming.
“For after today cometh the burning … all the proud and they that do wickedly shall be as stubble; and I will burn them up, for I am the Lord of Hosts; and I will not spare any that remain in Babylon.” (D&C 64:23–24). Some years ago one of our brethren spoke of the payment of tithing as “fire insurance”; that statement evoked laughter. Nonetheless, the word of the Lord is clear that those who do not keep the commandments and obey the laws of God shall be burned at the time of his coming. For that shall be a day of judgment and a day of sifting, a day of separating the good from the evil. In my personal opinion no event has occurred in all the history of the earth as dreadful as will be the day of the Second Coming—no event as filled with the destructive forces of nature, as consequential for the nations of the earth, as terrible for the wicked, or as wonderful for the righteous.
It will be a time of great and terrible fears, of cataclysmic upheavals of nature, of weeping and wailing (D&C 19:5), of repentance that comes too late, and of crying out unto the Lord for mercy. But for those who in that judgment are found acceptable, it will be a day for thanksgiving, for the Lord shall come with his angels, and the apostles who were with him in Jerusalem, and those who have been resurrected. Further, the graves of the righteous will be opened and they shall come forth. (See D&C 88:97.) Then will begin the great millennium (D&C 43:30) period of a thousand years when Satan shall be bound and the Lord shall reign over his people. Can you imagine the wonder and the beauty of that era when the adversary shall not have influence? Think of his influence upon you now and reflect on the peace of that time when you will be free from such influence. There will be quiet and goodness where now there is contention and evil.
I know that you are familiar with all of this and with much more of that which is found in the scriptures, but I have felt impressed to repeat it as a reminder to each of us of the faith and the certainty that we have of these coming events. To know when these events will occur would take from us much of the self-discipline needed to daily obey the principles of the gospel.
Most of us seldom think of these millennial events, and perhaps it is well we do not. Certainly there is no point in speculating concerning the day and the hour in which they will occur. Let us instead live each day so that if the Lord does come while we are yet upon the earth we shall be worthy of that change which will occur as in the twinkling of an eye and under which we shall be changed from mortal to immortal beings. And if we should die before he comes, then—if our lives have conformed to his teachings—we shall arise in that resurrection morning and be partakers of the marvelous experiences designed for those who shall live and work with the Savior in that promised Millennium. We need not fear the day of his coming; the purpose of the Church is to provide the incentive and the opportunity for us to conduct our lives in such a way that those who are members of the kingdom of God will become members of the kingdom of heaven when he establishes that kingdom on the earth. May I suggest just two or three things which, if followed, will assist.
The prophet Micah declared: “He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” (Micah 6:8). There is enough for a long sermon in that one command. Let me talk about one point only: “To love mercy.” As an example, may I read a paragraph from a letter I received from a young woman who is engaged in this kind of activity as president of the Relief Society.
Yesterday [she writes] I spent most of the day picking up welfare groceries and delivering them. One of the two cases I called on was tragic. She is a woman who, years ago, was in a fire and her head was badly injured. For years she has undergone constructive surgery and has a number of pins holding her scalp together. She is divorced, and in order to support herself and her four-year-old girl, she works doing any small job she can find, until she is through surgery and can return to school to complete her training as a dietician. She has no car and relies solely on her bicycle for transportation in this great and busy city. She has ridden that bike all winter, with her little girl on the back, sometimes going as many as 48 kilometers in a day to get to and from a small job.
A week ago she slid on a patch of ice while riding her bicycle, fell, struck her head, and suffered a concussion. She refused to go to the hospital because she had no money to pay medical bills, so she remained in her apartment, suffering from pain until her sister found her and got medical help. Her mother was able to assist her just a little. Her home teacher happened to call and discovered her plight. When I, as the Relief Society president, called her, I discovered she had no food in the house, no medication for her diabetes, and no money. So yesterday I went to deliver the groceries and take her some medication. What an opportunity to serve someone so desperately in need!
Love mercy; obey the commandment of the Lord by imparting your substance for the work of this kingdom. Now let me share with you a testimony spoken by a man once poor in his childhood and now prosperous in his old age. He stood before the congregation and said,
“When I was a boy, on a summer’s day I would lie out in the alfalfa patch and chew on twigs and look up at the sky and wonder where the windows of heaven were that my parents had spoken of. I couldn’t see them in the clouds, and I thought they must be somewhere in the blue sky. I wondered how the windows could be opened so I could get a Boy Scout uniform and a pony and a bicycle. I never got these things, but I have come to see how the windows of heaven are opened as I have received the kindness of good and generous neighbors and friends in this ward in which we live.”
Finally, pertaining to this general subject, let me read a few more words of revelation: a few words of commandment, and a few more words of promise. The commandment: “Let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly.” The promise: “Then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of God.” (D&C 121:45.) I have thought of that statement a great deal. It has been my privilege to meet a number of presidents of the United States and leaders, rulers, and governors in other lands, and it is a reassuring feeling to be able to stand in the presence of such men with confidence. As I have thought of that, I have also thought how marvelous it will be if someday I might stand with confidence in the presence of God.
“The Holy Ghost shall be thy constant companion,” the Lord continues in this statement, “and thy scepter an unchanging scepter of righteousness and truth; and thy dominion shall be an everlasting dominion, and without compulsory means it shall flow unto thee forever and ever”—including, I should like to add, that time when the Lord comes at the great day of sifting and separation of the righteous from the wicked. My brothers and sisters, of these things I testify, relying on the revealed word of the Lord; and I humbly pray with sincere desire that each of us may so live our lives here and now that we may have neither fear nor worry concerning that great and dreadful day of his coming. God bless us in our search for truth and peace and strength, I humbly pray in the name of Him who shall surely come at a time we know not, but whose coming shall be as certain as the coming of the sun in the morning—in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

About 15 years ago my doctor told me that I had to make a lifestyle change: “Start being more active, or you won’t live very long,” he told me. I took his warning seriously. I decided to start running.
To make this lifestyle change successful, I needed to keep the long view in mind because if I only had the short view, I wasn’t going to get very far.
My long view is a recurring goal to run one marathon each year. This goal helps me get up and run every day because I know that on one certain day next year, I’m going to have to run 26.2 miles (42.2 kilometers). I stay disciplined to train and meet my short-term goals each week because I know they’re getting me ready for race day.
Sometimes there are things that try and stop me, like the weather. Maybe it’s too hot or too cold outside, or maybe it’s raining. So I have to run inside on the treadmill, even though I significantly prefer to run on the street. Injuries also try and stop me. Maybe I didn’t stretch properly before my run, so I tweak my hamstring. Or maybe it’s not necessarily my fault that I got injured. But no matter how it happens, I can’t give up because I know I’m going to be running a marathon next year. So I make alterations to my training. I recover and get back out running.
Running has taught me a lot about the gospel. We all have a long-term gospel goal to endure to the end and achieve exaltation. But we set short-term goals like taking the sacrament at church each week that help us get there. We get spiritually injured when we make mistakes. But we don’t give up. We repent, and we get back out there. The only way we can achieve our long-term goal is by making little changes all along the way to help us stay on track.
For over a decade, I worked as the senior vice president for Walmart in Brazil. My family was financially stable, I enjoyed my job, and life was good. But the job was demanding. It required me to travel a lot, which was interfering with our family and with my Church service. After 11 or 12 years, it was becoming too much.
My wife and I counseled together and proposed that I leave this job. We talked it through with our children, and together we said, “It’s time for us to make a change.”
When I quit, I plummeted from senior vice president to unemployed. It took nearly a year to find and accept another job. When I finally took a position with a small real estate company in the United States, I felt good about it. This job would let me dedicate more time to the things that really mattered.
But other people told me I was crazy. Why leave a stable job for a real estate company no one has even heard of? And move halfway across the world to the United States?
They were right that this was a huge change we were choosing to make. But they were wrong that it was a poor choice.
It took a lot of faith for us to switch jobs and move to a new country, but the Lord took care of us. And I had more time to fulfill my responsibilities as a husband, father, and ward member.
I believe change is mandatory for achieving our potential. We will never become what Heavenly Father wants us to become if we’re stationary in our lives. And we become like Him as we make deliberate changes in faith.
Another big change that happened in my family was when my youngest brother died in a car accident. We didn’t choose or want that for him or for us, and it’s still painful, even after 10 years. Forced change is never easy.
But the changes we don’t choose can also become opportunities to build our faith in Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. It’s easy to stay faithful when things are going our way. But can we keep the faith and keep going when the changes don’t fall in our favor?
Divorce, infertility, unemployment, illness, and other painful experiences like these are not experiences we hope and plan for. They can make us feel like life is happening outside of our control. But that’s not entirely true—amid your unsolicited circumstances, there are still things you can control. You can set small goals, even just the goal to get through one more day. You can do it! You can bear all things with patience! (see Alma 38:4).
Joseph of Egypt is a perfect example of this. His life was full of forced change—he lost his freedom twice! (Once when his brothers sold him into slavery, and again when Potiphar put him in jail.) But Joseph didn’t break down because his circumstances were undesirable or unplanned for. He adapted and grew through his experiences. And in the end, he saved his family and an entire nation. The Lord was molding him and preparing him the entire way (see Genesis 37–46).
It’s hard to be patient when forced change upsets your plan, but remember that the long-term goal is to achieve exaltation. Heavenly Father knows what we need to get there: “Ye are not able to abide the presence of God now, neither the ministering of angels; wherefore, continue in patience until ye are perfected” (Doctrine and Covenants 67:13).
Heavenly Father loves you and wants you to succeed. He wants you to be happy. And He’s laid out a plan for you to achieve both of those things.
When I see mortality for what it’s meant to be—training—the changes in my life become more purposeful. Change helps me achieve my long-term goal, which is to become like my Savior Jesus Christ. I know Heavenly Father shares the same long-term goal for me and for all His children. Just like my doctor knew I needed to change something for the sake of my health, God clearly sees the changes we need to make to become like Him. He supports us and supplies resources like the scriptures, a local congregation, and a living prophet to help us in our quest to change for the better.
On the hardest days—those days when it’s hard to get out of bed and put on your running shoes, when you know you need to repent, or when you are struggling with some other unexpected change—we remind ourselves of God’s infinite love and of His desire for us to be even happier than we are right now.
That reminder gives us the strength to make the changes the Spirit prompts us to make. And it helps us trust that the unexpected changes we’re forced to make are part of His plan for our greatest happiness.

As I approached my 18th birthday and prepared to enter the mandatory military service required of young men during World War II, I was recommended to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood, but first I needed to telephone my stake president, Paul C. Child, for an interview. He was one who loved and understood the holy scriptures, and it was his intent that all others should similarly love and understand them. Having heard from some of my friends of his rather detailed and searching interviews, I desired minimum exposure of my scriptural knowledge; therefore, when I called him I suggested we meet the following Sunday at a time I knew was just an hour before his sacrament meeting time.
His response: “Oh, Brother Monson, that would not provide us sufficient time to peruse the scriptures.” He then suggested a time three hours before his sacrament meeting, and he instructed me to bring with me my personally marked and referenced set of scriptures.
When I arrived at his home on Sunday, I was greeted warmly, and then the interview began. President Child said, “Brother Monson, you hold the Aaronic Priesthood. Have you ever had angels minister to you?” I replied that I had not. When he asked if I knew I was entitled to such, I again replied that I had not known.
He instructed, “Brother Monson, repeat from memory the 13th section of the Doctrine and Covenants.”
I began, “‘Upon you my fellow servants, in the name of Messiah I confer the Priesthood of Aaron, which holds the keys of the ministering of angels—’”
“Stop,” President Child directed. Then, in a calm, kindly tone, he counseled, “Brother Monson, never forget that as a holder of the Aaronic Priesthood you are entitled to the ministering of angels.”
It was almost as though an angel were in the room that day. I have never forgotten the interview. I yet feel the spirit of that solemn occasion as we together read of the responsibilities, the duties, and the blessings of the Aaronic Priesthood and the Melchizedek Priesthood—blessings which come not only to us but also to our families and to others we will have the privilege to serve.

The list of good men and women from whom he had the opportunity to learn goes on, but Elder Cook points out that many of them didn’t hold lofty positions at the time. They were just good people.

“We can learn from doctrine, and we can learn from good examples,” Elder Cook says. “But when you find people who have put those two together, whose lives are consistent with what they have learned in the gospel of Jesus Christ, that is a wonderful combination. And these people don’t have to be General Authorities or have some high occupation. All walks of life produce those kind of people.”

Though Elder Cook has been blessed to find good associations throughout his life, those with the greatest influence have been members of his own family.

He is grateful for a loving, involved father and a mother who “loved the Savior. They did everything they could to raise us the right way.” He appreciates the love and support of his brother, Joe, and sister, Susan.

One of the pivotal experiences of his life happened when he was 15 years old. His brother, Joe, wanted to serve a mission, but his father—a good man who had lost interest in Church activity—felt Joe should instead attend medical school. Joe and Quentin respected their father highly, so they sequestered themselves to consider his counsel.

They talked well into the night, balancing the pros and cons of each option. The bottom line, they decided, was this: If the Church is just another good institution, Joe could help people better by going to medical school. However, if the Savior truly lived, if Joseph Smith truly was a prophet, if the Church he organized under God’s direction truly is the Church of Jesus Christ, if the Book of Mormon is true, then Joe’s obligation was clear. The next morning Joe approached his father with that reasoning and bore his testimony. He left for his mission soon after, with his father’s support and his mother’s joyful blessing.

That conversation profoundly affected young Quentin. He had always had a testimony of the Savior. However, Joseph Smith, the Church, the Book of Mormon—these were another matter to a 15-year-old. He believed, but he had yet to receive a spiritual witness that confirmed their certain reality.

After he and Joe parted that night, Quentin went to his room, knelt in prayer, and asked for the same witness his brother had, a witness he desired with all his heart. And it came in a way so powerful that any doubts he had were swept away forever.

Another of the great influences in his life has been his wife, Mary. “It would be hard to find anybody in the whole world who is as good and righteous and bright as she is,” her husband says. “She has a wonderful sense of humor.”

The Cooks’ daughter, Kathryn Cook Knight, reinforces that assessment. “Dad was a perfect father,” she says. “I adore everything about him. But my mother is a saint.”

Sister Cook is very gifted musically, having taught music and filling her home with music. In fact, Elder Cook first became acquainted with Mary at a seventh-grade talent assembly. He remembers, “This little towheaded girl gets up and sings ‘On the Sunny Side of the Street.’ Even in junior high school she had a remarkably mature, deep voice. I was absolutely amazed. And that song could have been the theme for the rest of her life. She has a wonderfully bright, sunny disposition.”

During their schooling, the two had numerous opportunities to work together. In junior high he was elected student-body president, and she was elected student-body vice president. They were in debate together. And as senior-class president in high school, he worked with her as a student-body officer.

“We were friends long before we were anything else,” Elder Cook recalls. “I admired her before I fell in love with her, and marrying her was the best decision I have ever made.”

Elder and Sister Cook were married in the Logan Utah Temple on November 30, 1962.

After he graduated from Utah State University in 1963 with a degree in political science, Quentin and Mary moved to California, where he earned his Juris Doctor degree from Stanford University in 1966. Elder Cook then joined the San Francisco Bay Area law firm of Carr, McClellan, Ingersoll, Thompson and Horn.

It was there that he decided that “what I believed and who I was had to be visible.” In his work in business law and healthcare, Elder Cook associated with well-educated and affluent people. The Cooks’ son Larry remembers being touched that his father was so deeply respected among his business and civic associates. “I attended the retirement dinners honoring Dad when he left his law firm and later when he stepped down from the leadership of a health-care system,” Larry recalls. “I was in awe that colleague after colleague, none of whom were members of the Church, spoke—often with tears—about what Dad meant to them, how he had mentored and nurtured them, how he had selflessly fostered their careers without any sense that it was taking time or energy away from his own.”

At the same time, his Church service led to treasured associations with members whose cultural backgrounds were diverse and whose economic status stretched between broad extremes. Through both professional and Church experience, he developed the ability to understand and relate to people from all walks of life, and his love grew for all people.

He was called to serve as a bishop, then as a counselor in the stake presidency (to his beloved older brother, Joe!), and later as stake president. During that time he worked with not only English-speaking wards but congregations that spoke Spanish, Tongan, Samoan, Tagalog, Mandarin, and Cantonese.

Some of the members had little education and less money. But they had much to give. He remembers fondly “one of the great men I knew” who delivered bread for a living and was called into a bishopric. The man had seen ward leaders taking briefcases to their meetings, and so he decided to take one too. But since he had nothing to put in it yet, he filled it with sourdough bread to share. This humble man’s willingness to serve was surpassed only by love for others.

“Specific occupations or levels of education aren’t what I’m talking about when I say learn from good people,” Elder Cook says. “You can find good people everywhere and learn from them all.”

I unloaded my purse, and there on the bottom with my boarding pass, was an issue of the Ensign.
Illustration by Allen Garns
As I entered the airport on my way home from a visit with old friends, I felt discouraged that I hadn’t shared the gospel on this trip. I always carry a Book of Mormon in my purse to remind me to pray for someone I can give it to, but too often it stays in my purse. This trip was yet another miss.
I took a deep breath and prayed a silent apology. I felt like a terrible member missionary.
As I shuffled through the security line, I felt prompted to speak to the woman ahead of me. We chatted about our destinations and then separated to different lines. As I headed toward my gate, however, I saw the same woman. “Oh, hi again,” she said. “Good to see you!”
I asked her when her flight was leaving. “Oh, not for hours—I’m early.”
“Well, come and sit with me!” I said.
I still had 45 minutes before my flight boarded, so we sat at my gate and talked about our work. I mentioned some of the writing I do for Latter-day Saints, and suddenly she lit up.
“You’re a Mormon?” she asked. “I’ve been wanting to know more about Mormons. How can I get a copy of the Book of Mormon?”
“Well,” I said, opening my purse, “I have one right here.”
“Oh, my,” she said. “I think maybe we were supposed to meet today.”
Gratitude flooded my heart. When she asked what makes Latter-day Saints different from other religions, I felt guided in what to say.
I told her I’d have the missionaries contact her, and then boarding was announced. I opened my purse to get my boarding pass but couldn’t find it. I unloaded my purse. There, on the bottom with the pass, was a general conference issue of the Ensign! I gave it to her and thanked the Lord that I had to search for my boarding pass. She mentioned that she usually brings reading material with her but felt she shouldn’t this time.
“Maybe it’s so I can read this,” she said. With my boarding pass in hand, I gave her a hug and said good-bye.
Now we talk each week, and she tells me about her visits with the sister missionaries. It has been a year, and I hope to someday see her baptized. I don’t know if that will happen, but I still marvel at the workings of Heavenly Father to help our paths cross. I thank Him for hearing my prayer and granting me the simple opportunity to share a Book of Mormon.

With reluctant steps, Maria climbed onto the school bus. Children darted here and there, greeting their classmates and filling the air with excited chatter.
“Hi, Maria,” a voice called out.
Maria didn’t answer but determinedly made her way to an empty seat and slid over to the window. She had been dreading this first day back at school after vacation. After the Christmas holidays, students at Groveland Elementary always brought their favorite Christmas presents to school for a special show-and-tell. Maria had nothing to bring. Her father didn’t work much during the winter, and there had not been money for more than a few homemade gifts.
Maria’s parents were field-workers who traveled from town to town in their old pickup. She had been overjoyed last fall when her dad had decided to stay in Groveland, taking whatever farm work he could find through the winter, because she could go to the same school all year and have time to make friends.
But making friends turned out to be harder than she thought. Maria’s face flushed just remembering the class Christmas party.
“Cookies? Who brings cookies as a grab bag gift?” Shane had jeered. “Boy, are you dumb.”
There were giggles too. Only Warren, whose name she had drawn, didn’t seem to mind.
The bus lurched to a stop, and a new wave of children rushed in. Warren, who was among the newcomers, plumped down in the seat next to Maria. She stared out the window.
“What did you bring to show, Maria?” he asked.
“None of your business,” she told him.
“Oh.” Warren looked down.
Why was I so rude? Maria wondered. But her voice was still harsh as she attempted to explain. “If you must know, I didn’t bring anything.”
“Didn’t you get anything this year for Christmas?” Warren sounded genuinely distressed.
Maria turned from the window. “I got a doll, but I left it at home.”
She had named the made-over doll, Bethlinda, and she loved it better than any of her other modest gifts under their tree. “Everybody would laugh if I showed my doll.” Tears sparkled in Maria’s eyes. “She’s used.”
Warren looked uncomfortable for a moment; then he reached into his pocket. “Want to show this electronic football game? Tell them it’s yours. I don’t mind. Really.”
“What are you going to show?” Maria asked.
Warren smiled as he pulled a small plastic box out of another pocket.
“Here’s a crystal I grew from my chemistry set over the holidays.” He drew back the cotton. “I brought it for the science display.”
“Well, OK.” Maria flashed one of her rare, brief smiles. “I’ll show your game, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead. I’ll show you how to play it.”
The bus bounced along the gravel-covered county roads, stopping every so often to pick up more children. Maria braced herself against the jolts and concentrated on the game. Soon she and Warren were beeping and buzzing a red point of light back and forth across their hand-held football stadium. Warren scored more and more often as Maria’s thoughts began to stray.
“You have to keep your mind on the game,” Warren said. “I’m not this good. Look at the score—fifty-six to fourteen!”
“Sorry,” Maria answered. “I was just thinking about something.” She had remembered the song they sang in Primary, “Dare to Do Right.” She didn’t feel very daring right now, only confused.
The bus pulled up onto the blacktop highway about five miles from town.
If I take Warren’s game and tell the class it’s mine, she thought, it will be a lie. And that would be wrong. But maybe the kids will ask to play it with me, and I’ll make some friends …
The bus rolled to a stop. Whoosh! The door swung open. Children squealed, shoved, and surged off the bus and into the school.
“Quiet, children. Quiet,” Miss Adams cautioned when her class was inside the classroom.
After the class settled down, Miss Adams asked who wanted to be first. Thirty hands shot up.
“Maria, we don’t hear from you very often. Why don’t you start off today?”
With a pounding heart, Maria made her way to the front of the class, clutching Warren’s game.
She cleared her throat, “I didn’t bring a Christmas gift. My best present came in January—today—on the bus.” She paused. “Warren loaned me his football game, because I didn’t have anything to show. I figure that’s what a friend would do, and a friend is the best present anyone could ever have.”
Not daring to look anyone in the eye, Maria hurried back to her seat. The expected titters never came. The class was silent for a moment; then the clapping began.

In 1982, when we arrived in Dubai, no Latter-day Saint services were being held. We found three Latter-day Saints there: a sister from the United States and two Filipino brethren. Sacrament meetings began in our living room. Our children used to say that for a year they didn’t go to church—church came to us!
Within eighteen months, however, new move-ins helped our branch membership grow to twenty-four; and by 1985, the small branch had grown to thirty-six. We rent space in the American school for meetings. Our branch offers the full program of the Church for our age groups, including early morning seminary.

by Jeanne McInelly
The silent dignity of the Arkansas House of Representatives was pierced with shouts of “Contact! Contact!” A hundred Arkansas seminary students were clamoring for points in the final scripture chase contest of the year.
“Hold it down! Quiet, quiet! Let’s remember where we are,” cautioned the teacher. “Are you ready? Here’s the clue for scripture number seven.”
It all began the month before in seminary officers meeting where plans were being laid for the next Super Saturday.
“Hey, our lesson is on good government next month.”
“Wow, let’s all go to Washington!”
“No, we’ve got roadshow practice that morning.”
“Well, how about having our lesson at the state capitol building at Little Rock?”
“You’ve got to be important to get in there.”
“Well, so who’s more important than LDS seminary students from all over the state—in our Sunday best?”
“It’s worth trying for. At least after we ask they’ll know there are Mormons in Arkansas.”
Within a week officials were approached, permission was received, and the secretary of state had agreed to speak to the group. Bright picture postcards of the capitol building arrived at all 12 seminary classes around the state announcing the news.
“We’ve got the state capitol building for the next month’s Super Saturday! Be sure to dress up. Now we’re the VIPs.”
The morning of the activity, prior to the lesson, the seminary officers met in a plush committee room complete with microphones at each desk and swivel executive chairs.
“Such class! We ought to meet here every month.”
“So this is what my license plate fee pays for!”
For the lesson students climbed the white marble stairs leading to the assembly room where a seminary fife and drum corps brought in the flag. The Arkansas secretary of state, Kelly Bryant, was a special guest speaker. Some visitors touring the building paused to admire the group and to ask, “Are these kids some special committee for the governor?”
As part of the lesson students impersonating prominent Book of Mormon characters gave campaign speeches in an effort to win votes from the group and gain imaginary seats on the Zarahemla City Council. As this was in progress, one of the state representatives, returning with his wife for some papers, paused to listen and chuckle at King Noah as he confused his interrogators with evasive answers and political double talk. “He sounds like one of us at a press conference,” laughed the representative.
After the lesson students were treated to a tour of the governor’s conference room. Their enthusiasm and good deportment won them a rare peek at the chambers of the state supreme court. “Nobody gets to see these rooms except on court day, but for you I’ll make an exception,” said their guide.
Picnic lunches under the sweet Magnolia trees on the capitol grounds rounded out the impressive day. Between crunches of potato chips, conversations were overheard:
“You know, one of our seminary group just might be a state legislator here someday.”
“Yeah, that kid who played King Noah seemed like he had potential.”

On a stopover in Rome, President Hinckley gave Father Leonard Boyle, Prefect of the Vatican Library, a copy of the Encyclopedia of Mormonism. The two men greeted each other like longtime friends. Father Boyle was impressed with President Hinckley’s knowledge of books and the techniques used to deter their aging. At the end of the meeting, the prefect observed in his thick Irish brogue, “President Hinckley is truly a very remarkable man.”

A recent letter from some concerned parents is typical of some others I have received. It illustrates some of the problems to which I refer. This letter reads:
Dear President Smith:
Some time ago we received a phone call from our daughter. She is in the army. She was crying over the phone. In fact, she was almost hysterical. She felt she had not one friend on earth. Those she thought were her friends had deserted her and were in fact persecuting her unmercifully—for one reason, because she is a Mormon. To say “we were in despair” is an understatement.

A second letter was enclosed with the letter from these parents, and let me read it to you in part:
I am your daughter’s Relief Society visiting teacher. My companion and I were at first unable to locate her. When we did, we found a depressed and mixed-up young lady. I’m not connected with the military, and I soon had my eyes opened to the unfortunate circumstances in which young girls in the military may find themselves. How very difficult it would be to keep gospel standards in my mind when one was continually subject to the rowdy, cigarette-filled barracks, the regimentation of being dumped into a job for which one is neither suited nor trained.

Since that initial visit, and on following visits as she became aware of the Church here, a distinct change came over her. As far as her work would permit, she attended many ward functions, and all were aware of her friendly presence. One could almost measure the light that came back into her lovely eyes. She began to smile as she realized that people cared.

You’re going to be welcoming home a very special daughter, and I shall miss her because she is my friend. I shall always be grateful to her for showing me the change that can come into one’s life when he grasps firmly the iron rod.

For two years, our group met twice a week. When missionaries, Elder Roger L. and Sister Simonne B. Dock, arrived in March 1987, 50 people were studying together.
The Docks began teaching the missionary discussions in French in the public school. Because some people spoke only Swahili, I interpreted. I heard the missionary discussions for the first time myself while interpreting.
On 9 May 1987 I was one of 80 people baptized in a pool at an abandoned copper mine. For me, baptism was an outer confirmation of an inner conversion that had taken place years earlier. I had been waiting for this sacred ordinance so I could become a member of the Church.

When Mother told me her Aunt Grace was coming for a visit, I groaned. “Not again!” I complained, remembering her visit last year.
“Be nice, William,” Mother said. “Once a year isn’t very often.”
“It’s too often for me!” I declared.
Aunt Grace has orange hair and headaches. All she ever says to me is, “William, must you make so much noise?”
“William,” Mother warned, “I want you to behave yourself when she comes.”
I promised to behave myself.
When Aunt Grace came, I went to the door to meet her. My dog, Stubby, went with me. He growled at Aunt Grace because I hadn’t had him very long, and he didn’t know who she was.
Aunt Grace took a step backward. She looked as if she might turn around and go home.
“Oh, dear!” she cried. “Does that beast bite?”
I nodded my head. Stubby isn’t very big, but he sounds mean. For just a moment I thought I’d let her think that he bites people. Then I decided I’d better tell the truth. “Don’t worry,” I told her. “He only bites cats. Stubby hates cats.”
Aunt Grace looked huffy. “Well, he shouldn’t bite cats!”
I remembered then that Aunt Grace had a cat, and I wondered what I should say next. This visit wasn’t getting off to a very good start. But I didn’t have to say anything because just then Mother came hurrying to the door. “Come in, Aunt Grace, come in,” she said. “We’re so glad to see you.” She leaned close to me and whispered, “Take Stubby into the kitchen right now!”
She acted as if I had let him growl at Aunt Grace on purpose. I wondered if I had.
I took Stubby into the kitchen and shut the door so he would stay there. When I went into the living room, Aunt Grace had calmed down. She looked at Mother and said, “My, my, Lucille, it looks as though we’re getting a few gray hairs, doesn’t it?”
What she meant was that Mother was getting a few gray hairs. Aunt Grace patted her own thick orange hair so we would notice that she didn’t have any gray hairs.
For a moment Mother looked as if she would like to growl like Stubby. But she smiled instead. “Let’s put your suitcase in the bedroom. Then we’ll sit down and talk.”
I followed them into the bedroom, then back to the living room where we all sat down. I behaved myself.
“How are you, Aunt Grace?” Mother asked.
“Well, my head still aches a lot.”
“That’s too bad,” Mother said. “What does the doctor say about it?”
Stubby began yelping in the kitchen. He didn’t like to be shut up there alone.
“Oh, my!” Aunt Grace exclaimed. “Does that dog have to make so much noise?”
“Excuse me,” I said, standing up. “I’ll go see what’s the matter with him.” I didn’t want to hear what the doctor said about Aunt Grace’s headaches anyway.
When I got to the kitchen, Stubby was at the back door, barking furiously. Outside, the neighbor’s big orange cat was sniffing around our garbage can. Sometimes he tips it over. I wanted to get that cat away from it, so I opened the door. “Get him, Stubby!” I commanded.
Stubby shot out after the cat. The only trouble was, the cat ran right through the open door and into our house, with Stubby right behind him. The cat streaked into the living room and dived under the sofa where Aunt Grace was sitting.
“What was that?” Aunt Grace shouted. She leaned over to see what had run past her feet. Poor Stubby was confused because her hair was about the same color as the cat’s fur. He snapped his jaws shut, and Aunt Grace’s hair came right off her head!
Stubby thought he had the cat in his teeth, and he didn’t know what to do with it. When the “cat” in his mouth didn’t move, he dropped it, backed off a few steps, and started barking at it.
Mother leaped to her feet, looking as though she might faint.
“Did Stubby scalp Aunt Grace?” I whispered.
Aunt Grace really did look scalped—but not completely. Her head was covered with very short gray hair. She tried to shrink her head down into the neck of her dress, like a turtle.
That beautiful orange hair she was so proud of was a wig!
Suddenly I was ashamed of myself. I think I’d hoped the cat would run into the house when I opened the door. I guess I’d wanted to scare Aunt Grace. Instead I’d embarrassed her. Without her wig on, she looked kind of shrunken and wrinkled and old.
I ran over to where Stubby was barking at the wig. “I’m sorry, Aunt Grace. I’ll get it for you.” I picked up the wig, but when I did, Stubby grabbed it again. He sank his teeth into it and pulled. He growled when I tried to yank it away from him. Then he shook his head from side to side.
“Oh, my!” Mother agonized.
Now she really did look as though she might faint. I didn’t dare look at Aunt Grace again. Then all of a sudden, I heard her laughing. It really caught me off guard. Somehow, I didn’t think Aunt Grace laughed at anything. But she was laughing now as though she’d never stop. She laughed so hard she had to wipe her eyes with a lace handkerchief she had pinned to her dress.
“Oh, dear,” she gasped finally. “I’ve never seen anything so funny in all my born days!”
“But your nice wig, Aunt Grace,” I said, dumbfounded. “Stubby’s ruined it!”
Aunt Grace slapped at the air with one hand. “Let him have it, William. I’m sure that thing is what makes my head ache. Maybe it’s time I gave it up anyway.”
“I’m really sorry, Aunt Grace,” I said again. “I hope you’ll still stay and visit with us for a while.”
“I want to, William,” she replied, smoothing her stubby hair as best she could. “You know what? Right now I feel like having an ice-cream cone. Why don’t you and I walk down to the store and get one? Maybe we can talk about how to teach that dog of yours some manners.”
It’s funny, I thought, how wrong you can be about people sometimes.
“Let’s go!” I said, offering her my arm and really behaving myself.

Raymond Sixth Ward
The Raymond Sixth Ward Primary, Raymond Alberta Stake, had a service project where they filled shoe boxes with small gifts for children in developing countries. Some of the gifts included soap, toothbrushes, toy cars, jump ropes, and pencils. Each child stuffed one box for a girl and one box for a boy. They also wrote the children notes and drew them pictures. Everyone enjoyed the activity and gained a stronger testimony of the joy that can be found in giving service to others.

Another story out of the Philippines that follows the formula is of a young man with a young family who were starving to death. They had nothing. He finally decided he had to leave the little area where he was and go to the city to try and make a living for his wife and his children. He finally arrived in Manila with 200 pesos. For those of us ignorant in money changing, that's four dollars. He had four dollars to his name. He began to fast to see what he could do with four dollars to save his family's financial life. He fasted for three days. He was tempted to use some of his four dollars to eat, but he knew if he did he would have nothing to start with. So he didn't eat any of his ta, but he finally had this vision come that said, "your family has this famous recipe, a barbeque recipe." He went and spent a few of his pesos on ingredients for this barbeque sauce and spent the rest on some chicken. He borrowed a grill from a friend and then stood on the edge of the street in Manila and put his four dollars worth of chicken and barbeque sauce on display as he cooked it. And as the people came by, and one person bought a piece of chicken, and then a second person, until finally he sold out.
At the end of the day, he had eight dollars. He had doubled his net worth with this borrowed grill. He spent one of those dollars to eat his first meal, and now he has seven dollars left to spend on the next days' supplies. He went out and bought more chicken and more ingredients for the barbeque sauce, and the second day he doubled his money again, and third day he doubled it again, and continued to double it. Finally he started sending money home go his wife and children. And then he had enough to buy his own grill so he didn't have to borrow one anymore.
And then he was enough ahead that his neighbor had been watching him and said, "I'd like to do that too." So he said, "I'll tell you what, I'll set you up with a cart and a grill and give you enough money to buy chicken and you meet me here at eight o'clock tomorrow night and we'll take the money out that you need to buy the chicken for the next day, and then we'll split the money 50/50, half for me for the cart and grill and half for you."
He did that over and over again, until today, and this may be an old story, but somehow, after a year or two or three of that hard work, this man became a very prosperous man with over a hundred carts to his ownership of which he had 50/50 partners all over the Philippines operating his carts and famous formula. He became a very famous and well to do, successful man.