Gospel Story Finder

I like to go grocery shopping with my mom because our grocery store has little shopping carts for children. One day, we went to the store and there were only two little carts left. My little sister and I each took one. As we went into the store, a little boy and his parents arrived. The boy began crying because there were no little carts left. I thought, What would Jesus do? Even though I wanted to push the cart, I gave mine to the boy. He felt happy, and so did I!

A violent wind pulled at my hair and hurled me towards the automatic doors. “I hate hospitals,” I murmured to myself as I entered. “Why do I always have to be sick?” I was at Primary Children’s Medical Center in Salt Lake City for yet another round of tests, which would later reveal that I had epilepsy. I felt as if all I ever did was spend time in the hospital.
On this autumn day, I was feeling particularly unpleasant and detested the fact that at 14, I was still forced to stay at a hospital that I thought was just for babies. It just wasn’t fair! How could all my other friends live in one big whirlwind of teenage fun while I was forced to bear such a heavy burden?
In the midst of my self-pity, my eyes were drawn to a boy who was about five or six years old, sitting in a wheelchair in the gift shop with his mother.
“Please, Momma,” he said softly, holding up a toy, “please can I get this?”
His mother looked at the toy, then at the little boy and said, “No, sweetheart, we can’t afford that.”
Although I was sure he was disappointed, the little boy’s reaction surprised me. He smiled and set the toy back on the shelf.
As his mother wheeled him back down the hall, I picked up the toy, paid for it, and rushed out of the gift shop. When I caught up with them, I handed the little boy the toy and said, “This toy wants to go home with you!”
The little boy’s face turned serious, and he said, “You got this for me?”
I smiled and looked at his mother, who had tears coming down her cheeks, but she was smiling.
I turned to walk away, and as I turned the corner down the hall, I heard the little boy say, “I know who that was, Mommy. That was an angel.” His mother laughed quietly and said, “I know.”
Giving him a small gift seemed to make a big difference, not only for him but for me too. At that moment, I forgot to be selfish, and despite the fact that my problems didn’t magically disappear, I suddenly felt a whole lot better.

Sometimes living the principles of the gospel presents us with some challenges. During World War II, I enlisted in the Navy immediately out of high school and entered boot camp in San Diego. I shall never forget the first night in the barracks. We were all dressed in our standard white skivvies, and I ended up with the top half of a two-man bunk. I remember lying there after the lights were turned off and trying to decide how I was going to say my prayer. There was a little confusion around the area, and I didn’t want to flaunt my religion, but I also thought I might as well establish early that I was not ashamed to pray. So after a few minutes when the confusion subsided, I knelt quietly on top of my bunk and began to pray. I had just started when a large, boisterous fellow I’d met from northern Idaho came roaring down the aisle and in a loud voice yelled, “Hey, what are you doing, Clarke?” At the same time he whopped me across the backside and just about knocked me off the bunk. It’s quite an experience to kneel in the dark about five feet off the ground and suddenly find yourself flying through space! I managed to grab the rail and stay on top, but my nerves took an awful jolt. I didn’t say anything but continued my prayer. When I finished, my big neighbor fervently apologized and promised it wouldn’t happen again. We talked good-naturedly for a few minutes, then went to sleep.
That was the end of my problem. The next night I followed the same basic routine, but this time my friend took it upon himself to see that I had no interference. I heard him say, “All right, you guys, knock it off. Clarke’s saying his prayers.”

Brrrrring! The bell rang for the last class of the day. Now that Megan was in middle school, she went to different classes during the day. And there was a lot to learn. Megan was glad her last class was for study time. That meant she could start on her homework.
Megan sat down at an empty table. A boy named Bennett walked up to her.
“Hey, Megan, you’re Mormon, right?”
“I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” Megan said.
“So, you think Joseph Smith wrote the Book of Mormon or something, right?” Bennett asked.
Megan said a quick, silent prayer to know how to an?swer. “He translated the Book of Mormon,” she said. “God called him as a prophet to help bring back Christ’s Church.”
Bennett scrunched his nose. “That’s crazy,” he said. He laughed and walked away.
Megan’s face felt warm. She stared down at her book.
“Hey, Megan.”
What now? Megan looked up. “Oh. Hi, Taj.”
“Sorry about Bennett,” Taj said. He sat down across from her. “What you were saying sounded important to you.”
“Thanks,” Megan said. “It is.”
“I think I know how you feel,” Taj said. “I’m the only Hindu at school. It’s hard when people don’t try to understand your beliefs.”
Megan sometimes felt lonely as the only member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at their school. But she’d never thought that other kids might feel that way too.
“My parents say that when someone is mean it’s because they don’t feel happy inside,” Megan said. She twirled a pencil around her fingers. “I wonder if Bennett feels sad. Or lonely.”
Taj tilted his head. “I’ll bet you’re right. Maybe he needs a friend.”
Megan grinned. “Maybe he needs two!”
The next day at study time, Megan and Taj saw Bennett sitting alone at a table.
“Hi, Bennett,” Taj said.
Bennett looked surprised. “Hi.”
“What are you working on?” Megan asked, plopping into a chair.
“History.”
“For the quiz tomorrow?” Taj sat down too.
“Yup,” Bennett said.
“There’s a lot to remember,” Taj said. Bennett nodded.
“Maybe we could quiz each other.” Megan opened her history book. They took turns asking and answering questions until the bell rang.
“Hey, Megan, I’m sorry about yesterday,” Bennett said as they stood to go. “I heard some stuff about your church and was curious.” He shifted back and forth on his feet. “I believe different things, but I should have been nicer.”
Megan smiled. “Thanks. My church is important to me, but it’s OK if we believe different things.”
“I think we make a good study group even if we have different beliefs,” Taj said.
Bennett grinned. “Me too. And I think we’ll do great on that quiz.”
This story took place in the USA.

One day, after finishing a service project, I was walking past our meetinghouse and saw two sisters who were cleaning the building. My words simply came out: “Sisters, do you need some help?” One of them smiled at me and said that I had arrived just in time because they were the only ones cleaning and they were very tired. She said that she had prayed that the Lord would send someone to help. I was very happy to be an answer to her prayer. I had just finished giving service to someone else and was also tired, but I followed my heart and offered to serve more.
It is a commandment to work with joy (see D&C 24:7). When we have the desire to serve at all times, we can help miracles happen in other people’s lives. Our lives become more meaningful when we serve. The Lord really does love us, He helps each of His children, and He will give us the strength to serve.

When I was six years old, I set a goal to read the Book of Mormon before I turned eight. I wanted to read it before I was baptized. I was reading slowly at first. For a long time, I only read a few verses a day. When I turned seven, my parents and I looked to see how many more pages I needed to read before my baptism. I started doing just enough to reach my goal, but then I began to read even more. I just finished reading the Book of Mormon—three months before my baptism! I hope other children will read the Book of Mormon too. I know it is a true book.

“When I was 18, as I was preparing to serve a mission, my bishop called me to teach the Sunbeams. I had never before learned to love others more than myself until I had served those children in such a simple assignment. …

“One day I invited Mike to come to church and sit in my class. Mike was my age but had stopped attending church completely by the time he was 12. … Once in a while Mike would accept my invitations to come to an activity. It always surprised me when he did, so I kept inviting him.

“At that time, Mike had long, black hair and a beard. His complexion was dark and pleasant. I don’t remember when I invited him to my Primary class, but one day he showed up.

“Class, I would like to introduce you to my friend Mike,” is how I began my lesson. “He is visiting us today.”
Read the rest of “The Visitor,” by Ken Merrell, in the May 2000 New Era.

In the mid-1960s, missionaries working in the Magdalena section of Lima, Peru, enjoyed stopping at Teresa Gai’s small store for a cold drink and cheerful chat. The little bodega occupied less than 75 square meters, and the shelves on its walls were stocked with a limited variety of canned and packaged foods. To its owner, the visits of the gregarious missionaries brought back memories of happier times.

Before World War II, Teresa’s family had enjoyed a comfortable living in their native Italy. For a year, Teresa had been the equivalent of today’s Miss Italy. But the government confiscated the family’s properties, and they were forced to flee their beloved homeland. Teresa eventually found her way to Peru, where she was married and bore a son. In time, Teresa’s husband passed away, and her only son married and left home.

Teresa busied herself by operating her bodega, with its modest two-room apartment in the rear, from early morning until late in the evening seven days a week. She welcomed the opportunity to befriend and offer moral support to the missionaries, who were far from their homes. And the missionaries welcomed the opportunity to share their gospel message with Teresa.

As the missionaries began to teach Teresa, she felt the spirit of their message. But she was troubled about whether she could keep the Sabbath day holy. Sunday, after all, was a big day for her little bodega. The missionaries encouraged her to attend church with them, but she resisted, not wanting to commit to closing her business on Sunday. After much thought, she promised, “I will go to church with you next Sunday.”

A few days later, much to her distress, Teresa realized she had promised to close her bodega and go to church the day before New Year’s—her biggest, most profitable business day of the year! She had already planned to close on New Year’s Day, which meant her store would be closed for two profitable days, only to open on Tuesday, her least productive day of the week.

She wondered how she could get out of her commitment, but to Teresa Gai, a promise was a promise. She closed the store and went to church with the missionaries. She enjoyed the services but couldn’t help thinking about the people going elsewhere to buy food for their New Year’s Eve gatherings.

Sunday afternoon and evening, from her little apartment in the rear, she could hear her customers knocking on the steel roll-down door over the front of her store. It was hard to ignore them. People depended on her. Would they understand? Would they ever come back to her bodega? With no income for two days, where would she find the money to restock her shelves that week?

With considerable apprehension, Teresa opened her bodega Tuesday morning. To her amazement, she had sold more goods and taken in more money by the end of the day than she had on any other single day since opening her store. She felt strongly that the Lord had blessed her because she had kept his day holy. Teresa never again opened her bodega on Sunday.

Partway through a worn notebook of Teresa’s daily sales, a heavy line is drawn across the page. Daily totals after the line show a significant increase.

“That line marks the day I was baptized,” Teresa said years later through tears. She was especially grateful for her testimony of the restored gospel and the many spiritual blessings that enriched her life after she joined the Church.

Following her baptism, Sister Gai immediately plunged into Church activity with her characteristic enthusiasm and willingly accepted callings to serve. In the gospel she found great joy, which she radiated and which buoyed the spirits of those around her, including the missionaries who served in her section of Lima. Considering all the treats she gave the missionaries, it is a wonder she stayed in business.

In 1986 Sister Gai attended the dedication of the Lima Peru Temple. The temple gave her one last opportunity to give unselfishly to others. Sister Gai, then nearly 80 years old, gratefully accepted a calling to be a worker in the beautiful new temple.

I recall sitting in this historical Tabernacle back on October 1948 when the semi-annual conference of the Church was in session. Elder Matthew Cowley of the Council of the Twelve was speaking. He related an incident that made a deep and lasting impression on me. While serving as president of the New Zealand Mission he visited a good Maori sister who sincerely believed and observed the principle of tithing. Brother Cowley told of this experience in these words:
“Now, on one occasion I called in as I always did when I visited that vicinity, to see this grand little woman, then in her eighties, and blind. She did not live in an organized branch, had no contact with the priesthood except as the missionaries visited there. We had no missionaries in those days. They were away at war.
“I went in and greeted her in the Maori fashion. She was out in the back yard by her little fire. I reached forth my hand to shake hands with her, and I was going to rub noses with her and she said: ‘Do not shake hands with me. …’
“I said: “Oh, that is clean dirt on your hands. I am willing to shake hands with you. I am glad to. I want to.
“She said: ‘Not yet.’ Then she got on her hands and knees and crawled over to her little house. At the corner of the house there was a spade. She lifted up that spade and crawled off in another direction, measuring the distance she went. She finally arrived at a spot and started digging down into the soil with that spade. It finally struck something hard. She took out the soil with her hands and lifted out a fruit jar. She opened that fruit jar and reached down in it, took something out and handed it to me, and it turned out to be New Zealand money. In American money it would have been equivalent to [about] one hundred dollars.
“She said: ‘There is my tithing. Now I can shake hands with the priesthood of God.’
“I said: ‘You do not owe that much tithing.’
“She said: ‘I know it. I do not owe it now, but I am paying some in advance, for I do not know when the priesthood of God will get around this way again.’”
Then after a brief pause and with considerable emotion Brother Cowley continued: “And then I leaned over and pressed my nose and forehead against hers, and the tears from my eyes ran down her cheeks. …” (CR, Oct. 1948, pp. 159–60.)

It was a new week, and I looked at the family calendar with trepidation. How could we possibly fulfill all of the obligations we had scheduled?
I plunged in, trying my best to volunteer at the schools, get the children to their various sports and clubs, feed everyone around ever-tightening schedules, and get my early-morning seminary lesson prepared each day. My husband rushed around to get to work and to Church meetings, to visit ward members, and to coach soccer. We were trying to be anxiously engaged in good causes and to be active in the Church, but something was missing. Although many families can handle numerous activities, it wasn’t working for us: the frenetic schedule was taking a toll on our family.
As I pondered this problem, I started to notice how often we had to tell our children no about things they wanted and needed from us. This bothered me, and I started to think about what could be done.
I turned to the scriptures. As I read the Book of Mormon, I came upon the sermon of King Benjamin in which he said, “And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order” (Mosiah 4:27).
The prize we wanted was a happier, more unified family. We wanted less stress and more joy, but it seemed that we clearly were not on a path that led to these prizes.
We were diligent, but we were spinning our wheels. We were preparing everything as opposed to every needful thing. I prayed about our situation, but initially no answer came.
Life went on as usual. Callings needed attention, I felt the dishes had to be washed, and everyone required rides to their activities. As I prepared to teach seminary each day, I started to find the answers I sought from the wisdom of our modern prophets and leaders. I came upon an address by President Spencer W. Kimball (1895–1985) encouraging the Saints to hold family home evening. He said: “In our time the Lord has offered his ageless program in new dress and it gives promise to return the world to sane living, to true family life, family interdependence. It is to return the father to his rightful place at the head of the family, to bring mother home from social life and employment, the children away from unlimited fun and frolic.”1
I realized that one of the first casualties of our busy lifestyle was regular scheduling of family home evening. Not long after, our bishop read a letter in sacrament meeting from the First Presidency reminding us to choose our activities wisely and not let the good things we do get in the way of home evening.
As my husband and I discussed this counsel, we realized that a lot of our activities were fun but not needful and that we could benefit from trimming the excess. We made lists of our activities and put them in categories like “needful,” “not needful,” and “needs improvement.”
As we studied our lists, we were concerned about the feelings of our children. Most of the activities we considered cutting were things they were involved in, like sports and clubs. We decided to hold a family home evening and talk this over with the children. When we discussed the problem with the children, we were astonished to find out that they would much rather spend time with us than have us coach their teams or chair their clubs.
From this realization our “Family Club” was born.
Once we fulfilled our obligations to existing activities, we did not sign up for anything new. On nights when we have no Church responsibilities, my husband will come home from work and announce, “Tonight is Family Club!” and the children will hurry to get their homework and chores done so we can spend time together.
Our children like to engage in special projects, especially with their dad. One night they built a computer out of scrap parts. Sometimes everyone will put on tool belts and fix something around the house. The point is that we have the time, energy, and desire to be together.
I also have more time to spend with the children and prepare more nutritious meals for the family. Family Club requires no running around, splitting our family among activities, or eating out. No one seems to miss our life of rushing around and fast food. We enjoy the time we spend together so much that the children no longer want to be so involved in extracurricular activities.
We have reinstated family home evening and daily family prayer. We also tidy up, do personal scripture study, and have family recreational activities. We understand that as the children get older, they will naturally have more activities. We will add them when it becomes needful, but until then, we are enjoying every minute of Family Club.

The Taylorsville Utah West Stake presented an original musical for their Heritage Arts Festival. For weeks a 60-voice chorus practiced diligently, while Scouts whooped it up square dancing. Backstage the set designer sloshed paint on canvas and the makeup committee practiced mass-production mascara application. “The Heritage of Our Future” played two nights to packed audiences. The drama dealt with the influence a young girl’s heritage has on her decision to not marry a nonmember and how that decision affects her future.

When I was 13 years old, my family lived on property in Granger, Utah, and every Saturday morning, my brother and I would get up early to start our chores. On one particular Saturday, my chore was to mow the lawn. We had a pretty big yard, so I had to get up extra early to get everything done before it got too hot.
As I was putting the lawn mower away in the shed after I’d finished, I heard the door to the back of our home close. I looked up and saw my father motion for me to come over and sit with him on the back porch steps of our home. We sat shoulder to shoulder, admiring the beautiful sunrise, as I waited for him to speak to me.
After a while he asked me, “Son, tell me about what you want to do in your life. What are your goals? What are your thoughts about the future?”
I told him my goals and dreams, including things like amazing sporting accomplishments and becoming an attorney. When I finished, he said, “That’s wonderful. You can accomplish anything in this life with our Heavenly Father’s help.”
Then he said, “Son, there is something that I would like to talk to you about, and I want you to know that I have prayed about what I’m going to share with you now. And I have prayed that the message I will give to you will be imprinted on your soul.
“What I am going to say to you will greatly affect how you deal with the challenges and the heartaches you will certainly face in your life. And it will come to influence how you face the successes that you have in your life more than anything else that I know to say to you.”
He paused, and I curiously waited to find out what this amazing piece of advice would be.
“Protect the private times of your life,” he said. “You know those moments of your life when you think, ‘There’s no one else around, nobody else knows what I’m doing, and nothing that I’m going to do during this moment will have any negative effect on anyone else’? You know those times?
“What you do in those moments, during these private times of your life, will determine the level of confidence you will have before God and men. It will determine your ability to concentrate and focus on difficult and complex challenges in your life more than anything else I could teach you. And it will have more to do with how you grow and raise your own family and how you strive to draw near to our Heavenly Father than anything else I could say to you. Son, protect the private times of your life.”
I listened carefully to that advice. And just like he said, that moment became locked in my mind and in my heart. Those words are forever imprinted on my soul.
“You know those moments of your life when you think, ‘There’s no one else around, nobody else knows what I’m doing, and nothing that I’m going to do during this moment will have any negative effect on anyone else’?”
As I reflected on what my dad taught me, I realized that my father was not only referring to the importance of staying away from things like pornography and misconduct. He was advising me to fill those private times with positive things. About a year after that conversation, I finished reading the Book of Mormon on my own for the first time. And I came to receive a witness by the Spirit, in a private moment, that the Book of Mormon is the word of God. And I was able to make the connection between the importance of it being the word of God and this being the Lord’s Church.
In those private moments, I gained a testimony that the prophet of my youth, President Spencer W. Kimball, was a mouthpiece of the Lord. And it is on that foundation that I have continued to know that each prophet after, including President Russell M. Nelson today, is the Lord’s chosen, called, and anointed mouthpiece to the world.
For me, those private moments have been the foundation on which my testimony rests.
Since that morning on the back porch steps of my childhood home, protecting the private times of my life has meant not only doing those things that guarded each moment against error or sin but filling those moments with spiritually and physically uplifting activities. Some of those include listening to good music, praying, reading the scriptures or other wholesome books, and physical exercise. I try and fill those private times with a focus on developing my talents and working on my hobbies. I have found that doing so brings me lasting joy rather than momentary happiness.
Protecting the private times of my life has meant not only doing those things that guarded each moment against error or sin but filling those moments with spiritually and physically uplifting activities.
During my youth, as I worked on protecting the private times of my life, I made personal goals in areas where I wanted to improve, such as setting goals to read the Book of Mormon, improve my race time in the 400-meter run, serve a full-time mission, and attend a university. I strived to use the time I had to progress and develop my skills. Setting and striving to achieve those goals has blessed my life with better physical health, strengthened testimony, inner peace, and lasting joy.
I am so grateful for the advice my father gave me all those years ago to protect the private times of my life. I know his counsel has helped me to confront the challenges of life and feel the confidence of knowing that I have a Father in Heaven who loves me and to whom I can go during sweet hours of prayer, all during the private times of my life (see Doctrine and Covenants 121:45–46). As you protect those moments in your life and fill them with wholesome, uplifting activities you will see and feel our Heavenly Father’s blessings of peace, increased confidence and lasting joy pour into your life.

President Hinckley challenged the missions to double their baptisms. In 1999, we baptized 501 converts, which was almost double the number in 1998. In December we brought up the subject to our missionaries in our Christmas Mission Conference. The missionaries quoted 1 Nep3:7, "I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them, that they may accomplish the thing which he commanded them." We set a goal of one thousand baptisms in the year 2000. I turned in that goal to the Asia Area Presidency. I was told that I needed to be "realistic." So I told them that they could turn in 750 to Church Headquarters and we would still shoot for the thousand. From January 1 - December 31, everyone worked hard contacting, teaching, fellowshipping, resolving concerns, and baptizing converts. At 10:30pm on the 31st of December we got the final count from the office Elders: we had just witnessed a miracle. We had baptized a total of 1,024 converts in the year 2000. Everyone was crying, and as the Elders call each apartment, there were more tears shed. I called Elder Cook in Hong Kong and gave him the report. There was silence, then a tearful, "Congratulations. You are truly the flagship of Asia." I learned the power of vision, being strictly obedient, and setting high goals.

Rhoda Byrne Jared was born in Putnam, Tennessee, in 1820. Her father died when she was seven years old, and, being the eldest of seven siblings, she learned early how to perform many household duties done mostly by adults. She grew up three miles from a neighbor boy named Adolphia Young and married him at the young age of 16. Together they had eight children.

In the spring of 1842, her husband's distant cousin brought the message of the gospel to them. In a life history written by her daughter, it stated, "They were amazed to hear the message of the restoration and it rang true to them. They embraced the newly restored church with all their hearts."

Since Rhoda and her family accepted the invitation to be baptized, they now had a great desire to join the Saints in Nauvoo. With heavy hearts, they left behind their parents, families, and close friends, since they were the only ones that had accepted the gospel.

The years that followed came with many heartaches and trials but also many miracles.

Arriving in Nauvoo at the very peak of great persecution, and after two years of living and laboring among the Saints, they were among those who first heard the devastating news of the martyrdom of the Prophet Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum.

Rhoda's husband worked among those laboring desperately to finish the Nauvoo Temple. In three months' time, from December of 1845 to February of 1846, they were among the 5,615 Saints that received the ordinance of the endowment in this temple.

While living in Nauvoo, Rhoda wrote a letter to her mother, which gives great insight of where she found strength to endure. She wrote, "Nauvoo is a city of Saints gathered from all parts of the world, as the old Prophet said, 'Two of a family and one of a city,' to do the commandments of God; even to build a house to His name. With a few exceptions, I believe they are the best people in the world. All is peace and quietness. The people are industrious, virtuous, and temperate, but now are the words of Paul verified, 'They that live Godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.' But in the midst of our afflictions, our hearts are made to rejoice, for we put our trust in that God who is able to light up a smile in the aspect of woe. His favor is richer than the finest gold, and His wisdom transcendeth all human understanding. His plans are founded in wisdom. He will perform His work and accomplish His purpose. Man cannot prevent it."

After being forced by the mobs from their home in 1846, the family arrived in Council Bluffs, Iowa. One year later, Rhoda experienced the first of her life's deepest sorrows when their 18-month-old baby boy died from ague, or later known as malaria. Many of their family members were also very ill, and it became clear they would not be able to start the journey west. As a family, they decided to give their oxen team, wagon, and supplies to another family who were healthy enough to make the trek west. This humble sacrifice meant that the family would have to start working all over again to obtain the necessary supplies.

It took four more years to raise the funds necessary to make the trek west, in which time they returned to Tennessee to work and sell their share of the family estate. While living with Rhoda's parents, their 10-year-old daughter passed away after a one-day illness. This was the second child to be buried and left behind since they were still determined to make their way to Zion.

The family boarded a steamboat in St. Louis, Missouri, called the Saluda, carrying many Mormon immigrants bound for Iowa. Along the route, a narrow channel with very strong currents made it difficult for boats to make a sharp turn in the river. After two days of no progress, the frustrated captain ordered an increase in steam pressure, which caused the boilers to explode. Approximately 100 people were killed, but, miraculously, none of Rhoda's family were harmed. All of their possessions were destroyed except for the money that Adolphia had in his pocket, but because of their faith and determination, they eventually joined the Saints in Winter Quarters and joined the Captain Tidwell wagon train.

One hundred miles into Nebraska, cholera struck their camp, and Rhoda's husband passed away on July 5, 1852, and 3 days later, and 50 miles further west, their 8-year-old son also died. This faithful wife and mother buried both husband and son along the trail west without a coffin or marked grave and only a blanket to wrap them in.

At this point, brothers and sisters, I feel it would have been understandable for Rhoda to pick up her remaining five children and return to her family in Tennessee for the much-needed comfort and support. She now had the task of raising her children without a companion, without extended-family support, and without the means to provide for them once they reached Salt Lake Valley. What would you do if you were Rhoda? Would you continue on to Zion? Would you have enough faith in the Lord to stay on the path?

At this seemingly impossible time, Rhoda decided her children needed a family motto to live by and to sustain them. After praying for guidance, the family decided on the motto "Hope on, Hope ever." The family continued with the wagon company and arrived in the Great Salt Lake in September of 1852.

For example, a few months ago, a loved one was struggling with her faith. One night she tearfully explained her feelings to me. I wanted her to believe in the gospel so badly and to fix every doubt she had.
In my preferred reality, I would answer every question perfectly, and we would both leave the conversation with a sense of renewed faith and joy, complete with sunshine and rainbows!
But I knew that wasn’t likely.
So I said a prayer in my heart to know how to help her. And I felt a distinct impression from the Spirit:
Just listen.
Through listening, I let go of my instinct to fix and instead saw that she simply needed to know that she is loved. I testified of the love I and Heavenly Father have for her. And although that conversation didn’t end with her renewed faith, it did end with a renewed sense of Heavenly Father’s perfect love—which is often the greatest help we can offer those who are struggling.

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf: I was assigned to accompany then-Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf to reorganize a stake and select a new stake president in Texas. After our interviews, we both had good feelings about a certain man. He asked me if I felt this was the right man. I answered that I thought he was the right man, but that I did not feel that I had received a firm spiritual confirmation. We continued to discuss and pray and still I did not feel that I had the solid confirmation I wanted, so he simply asked me, "Well, do you have a better idea?" It was time to make the decision. We went ahead and called the man and as we went forward, it became clear that he was certainly the Lord's choice. Brigham Young said it this way:
"If I do not know the will of my Father, and what he requires of me in a certain transaction, if I ask Him to give me wisdom concerning any requirement in life, or in regard to my own course, ...or those I preside over, and get no answer from Him, and then do the very best that judgment will teach me, He is bound to...honor that transaction, and He will do so to all intents and purposes."[8]
If you do your homework, study it out, and earnestly plead with the Lord for an answer and do not feel you have received it--go ahead with your best judgment and the Lord will either back up your decision or He will soon warn you that you are going down the wrong path.

My daughter Norma says the following about the way Relief Society has been a blessing in her life: “When Darren and I were newly married and expecting our first baby, we were living in a small college town. We were both full-time students with very little income. Our nearest ward was in a town about 30 miles [48 km] away, and our only means of transportation was an old car that didn’t work most of the time. When the sisters in the ward discovered our circumstances, they immediately joined together to arrange for one of them to always give us a ride to and from church on Sundays and for other Church activities. Some of the sisters lived in other towns and drove 20 or 30 miles [32 to 48 km] out of their way just to pick us up. Additionally, many of the sisters would invite us to their homes for nice family dinners after church. No one ever made us feel like a burden to them. I will never forget the true love and charity that the Relief Society sisters extended to us during that short but challenging time in our lives.”

“Our next thrilling adventure was one pleasant afternoon as we were slowly traveling along. Suddenly, all the wagons in our company were flying in every direction with lightning speed over the plains. I don’t think the fastest horses could have kept up with our cows. Father sat in the front of the wagon, talking to and whipping his staid, old oxen to keep them going right along. He was afraid the cows might get mixed up with other teams that were running, or might turn around and tip the wagon over with us all in it. We went over hump and bump. Sometimes we would be thrown up so that our heads hit the top of the wagon bows, then we would alight anywhere it happened inside the wagon. Nobody can appreciate the situation without the experience. Again death was staring me in the face and again I covered my head. If I had to be killed I didn’t want to see the process. Mother soon snatched the covering off my head, and when we came to a stop she gave me a thorough lecture to always look out and watch for the best chance for escape.
“Well, after the cattle had run as long as they could they stopped. There were several accidents, and a woman was killed. She was knocked down and trampled to death. She left a family of children. How we all dreaded stampedes—there is something dreadful in a lot of panic-stricken cattle. Even human beings are not responsible when fright overcomes reason.”

Growing up in Australia, our closest temple was Hamilton New Zealand. As a new missionary in January 1976, I received my endowment there. I still remember experiencing tranquility and peace in a house of the Lord. I also remember the distinct feeling that I needed a choice eternal companion to receive the full blessings the temple has to offer.
In January 1979 when I returned with Maxine Thatcher, a most beautiful and righteous girl from my home ward, we were sealed for time and eternity. We marveled and rejoiced in the covenants we made to each other and the Lord.

Elder Rod Badger writes from Brazil that the miracle the gospel works in the lives of people has been his greatest eye-opener since arriving in the field. “Add that to the real love you feel for people a lot older than you, and you have the essence of missionary joy. We’ve come to love Victor Colletti who is eighty-two and was the third person baptized in his village. Since then he’s learned to read and write and has been instrumental in bringing twenty-seven people into the Church. He still spends two or three days a week doing tracting. He’s a real help to us missionaries”