Gospel Story Finder

When I was in a young adult ward, I had family home evening with my ward family. One of the most memorable family home evenings I ever attended was a night when the full-time missionaries were in charge.
The elders invited several of the converts in our ward to share their conversion stories. As the converts spoke, the Spirit’s presence was undeniable.
After the stories had been shared, my mind returned to my own missionary experiences—as both a full-time and a lifetime missionary. I reevaluated my own actions in sharing the gospel on a day-to-day basis and continued to reflect on them for weeks to come.
When I was later called to be in charge of family home evening in the ward, I made it a point to continue “the conversion stories night” activity periodically, asking different converts in our ward to participate.
Janna McFerson, California, USA

In 1847 Dr. Semmelweis, a Hungarian physician, was working as the chief resident in an Austrian medical clinic. There are many versions of the story, in which the details vary, but the crux of the story is that Dr. Semmelweis observed that approximately 10 percent of women who delivered their babies in his clinic, known as “the first clinic,” died from childbed fever. We now know that childbed fever is an infection of the female reproductive organs caused by strep bacteria. However, in the mid-1800s the cause of childbed fever was a mystery.

Dr. Semmelweis was first alerted to the potential ability to reduce deaths from childbed fever when he observed that the second maternity clinic, staffed primarily by midwives, had a much lower rate of childbed fever deaths—about 4 ­percent. More shocking, even women giving birth in the streets of Vienna were less likely to contract childbed fever.

Dr. Semmelweis undertook a rigorous study of the differences between the two clinics and for many months could not isolate a potential cause. The breakthrough occurred through tragedy. A friend and fellow physician at the clinic named Jakob Kolletschka was participating with students in a postmortem examination. During the exam Jakob was accidently cut with a scalpel. Within a few days he was dead, having died from a disease that produced the same signs and symptoms and seemed to follow the same natural course as childbed fever.

Following this tragedy, Dr. Semmelweis theorized that something from the cadaver was being carried on the physician’s hands to the maternity ward, and he proposed that the physicians should begin washing their hands with a chlorinated lime solution. This would be similar to a modern-day bleach solution. Although he was met with much resistance from the hospital staff, he enacted a policy, and as a result of the policy, a miraculous decline in childbed fever deaths occurred, dropping nearly 90 percent in a few weeks.

Despite the astounding evidence that this simple act of handwashing could save the lives of so many women, Dr. Semmelweis’s theory was rejected by his peers. In 1847, when Dr. Semmelweis undertook his investigations of childbed fever, most people in the world believed that disease was caused by a miasma—­specifically, that rotting organic matter polluted the air and that this polluted air spread disease. His findings fully contradicted the prevailing model of disease causation, which meant that he could neither explain why a physician going from a postmortem exam to the maternity ward could transmit childbed fever; nor could he explain why handwashing reduced the rate of disease. Dr. Semmelweis had proven with his experiment that handwashing worked, but because he lacked the explanatory details, he could not convince his peers to trust him or the data. The other physicians simply felt that handwashing was too difficult and too time consuming. They certainly were not about to change their practice without a complete explanation.

The germ theory of disease, which would provide a rationale for handwashing, would not become widely accepted until after 1880. Dr. Semmelweis died in 1865 and would not live to see the scientific confirmation of his theory. Although he would die without seeing his work validated or adopted, Dr. Semmelweis never questioned what the data had shown him and never abandoned his efforts to persuade others to adopt handwashing.

The first few years of our marriage seemed nearly perfect. After my husband and I were sealed in the México City México Temple, we both graduated from the university and our first daughter was born. My husband had a good job and was called as bishop in our ward. Then we were able to move to Jalisco, a part of México where my grandparents had lived. We had always dreamed of rearing our children in a peaceful place, and Jalisco met the desires of our hearts. Our way of life, however, would soon change dramatically.
In Jalisco, our second daughter was born. Unfortunately, I suffered severe complications after her birth. We were able to meet the expenses from our savings, but then, two weeks later, my husband lost his job. With no income, we had to move from our house. Credit card bills, car payments, and rent were strangling us.
Eventually, my husband began to work nights as a taxi driver. Frequently his expenses exceeded his income, but his work did bring a little food to the table. Then the car broke down, and even that little source of income ended. We sold or pawned many of our possessions. At the same time, México underwent a serious currency devaluation, which added greatly to our financial distress.
My husband was emotionally and physically exhausted, so I got a job as a teacher in a bilingual elementary school. The work was hard, the salary small, and I had to leave my little ones in the care of a Church member. To save money, we moved to a cheaper place in a poorer section of town.
As I struggled to go to work, care for the family, keep up the house, and participate at church, I became very depressed. One terrible night I was so distressed I had to be hospitalized. After giving me a sedative, the doctor said, “You’re drowning yourself in your problems. That’s for cowards, and I don’t think that is what you are. Think about it.”
Her words resounded in my mind, and I closed my eyes, searching for something to give me courage. I reviewed my life. Yes, all our material possessions are gone, I told myself, but I am still alive, and I have a wonderful husband and two precious daughters. I remembered I had not been born to accumulate goods or to live in tranquillity. I had come to serve my family and others and to build the kingdom of God.
When I returned home, I prayed as never before. I pleaded with my Heavenly Father to strengthen me. I spoke with my bishop, and he told me, “The Lord will remove from your path that which is hurting you.” The following day I learned that I had been fired from my job without any explanation. That same day I learned I had been granted a scholarship to further my education. Being able to spend time teaching my little ones did a great deal to heal my spirit.
One morning the telephone, which had not worked for months, rang to bring the news that my husband had received a job as a teacher. The phone immediately stopped working again, but it didn’t matter. My husband had work!
As never before, welfare and self-reliance principles took hold in our home. I learned to process wheat and soybeans for storage. I planted corn near the sidewalk, then received permission to plant a garden on property belonging to friends. God blessed our little garden. It produced an abundance of food, including squash and alfalfa.
The hard work—and the food I was able to store—tamed my fear and filled me with hope. As my attitude changed, I was able to see the hand of the Lord in our lives. We were blessed with good health; none of us even had a cold. Never, even in the most difficult times, did we stop feeding the missionaries. The children always had food, and we had plenty of invitations to eat with friends. One day I was finally able to buy a second cylinder of propane for our stove. Immediately the contents of the previous one ran out. Typically, a cylinder lasts six weeks, but this one had lasted for months.
Out of our trials we learned some important lessons. We learned to value the counsel of our leaders. We learned to receive; it is good to serve, but it is also important to let others serve you. Both my husband and I were able to get additional job training without paying for it. My beloved in-laws were always conscious of our needs, and I found in my mother-in-law a great friend.
And our marriage grew and was strengthened. One night my husband took me in his arms and said, “I don’t care if they put us out on the street. If you are by my side, I will have the courage to start all over again.”
Perhaps most importantly, we came to see things from an eternal point of view. We came to understand that both in good times and bad, God shelters us in the palm of His hand.

One important reason for her eagerness to serve is the spiritual motivation she has felt since joining the Church. She cites, for example, the manifestation that came to her in January of 1985, the day before she began her work in the temple. As she lay on her bed immediately after retiring, she saw the skeletons of many dead, and then saw an Indian woman, plainly from an earlier era, praying before a distinctive door. She lay awake for a time puzzling about what her experience might mean. But when she reported to the temple the following day, Sister Tintí was assigned to the baptistry where—she found that door!
“I believe I saw that woman so I would know who the people were who needed me,” says the 57-year-old temple worker.

For youth conference one year, we went on a pioneer trek reenactment. I was terrified. It wasn’t that I minded walking for miles and miles a day—I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to hear anything.
I lost my hearing to meningitis when I was three years old. With technology now, I can hear with a cochlear implant. But just before trek, I broke my good implant playing basketball and had to use a backup processor. It had only one battery, which lasted about 6 hours.
I didn’t know what to do—I just wanted to feel peace and comfort. So I asked my dad for a blessing. He blessed me that Heavenly Father would take care of me if I showed faith.
All during trek, I took my implant on and off to preserve battery life. One day we were heading up into a cove, and I felt strongly that I should take off my implant. I was reluctant because my trek pa was sharing a spiritual message and I wanted to hear it. But I remembered my dad’s blessing and put the implant in my pocket.
As we walked a little further, I heard a voice in my head. It was so clear. I looked up and realized that the words in my head were the same words my trek pa was saying. I could hear every word of his testimony!
I know that Heavenly Father loves us and cares about our worries. He wants to bless us; He just asks that we show a little faith in Him.
Brody S., Wyoming, USA

My parents died while I was still living at home. As the youngest and the only unmarried member of the family, I was devastated.
Alone and vulnerable, I became so distraught that I had to leave school. Concerned about my emotional state, my brothers and sisters took me to nearly every hospital in the area. The doctors said I was in shock and needed complete rest in a peaceful place away from books and anything that required concentrated thinking.
Life became even more difficult, especially as I saw my friends continuing their studies. The fact that they still had their mothers also caused me pain; my mother had been everything to me. I longed to die so I could rejoin my parents.
But my Father in Heaven had other plans for me. In His wisdom and love, He inspired my brothers and sisters to take me from the city where I had been going to school to another city to be near them. I stayed with my sister Alphonsine. She and her husband and children were so kind to me that I began to feel better. Even more importantly, my sister’s oldest son, Faet Nadege, introduced me to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was my association with the Church and the power of the gospel that finally calmed my mind and healed my wounded heart.

Several years ago, a friend of mine who was serving at the time as a stake president was out of work. He struggled hard to find employment, without success. Part of the problem was that he was nearly fifty years old, and many potential employers turned him down as qualified but too old. After several fruitless months, job interviews fell away to zero. After nearly a year out of work, the family’s savings were exhausted and their supply of food and other essentials was nearly all used up. My friend’s self-confidence had eroded to the vanishing point. Finally, he got another job interview. It went well, but the interviewer was undecided, influenced as others had been by my friend’s age. Finally, a senior partner in the firm intervened. “Hire him,” he declared. “He’s a Mormon stake president; he won’t steal from us.” Integrity is the jewel in the crown of character!

I stood watching my ten-year-old cousin do her gymnastics. It was embarrassing to see all that she could do, because at age 12, I wasn’t any good at gymnastics, no matter how hard I tried. Finally, I got tired of watching and went into the house. “Why can’t I do the things she can?” I thought. “I really have to work hard, but all she has to do is see something and then she can do it. Why can’t I?”
The next day in my physical education class at school we were required to perform some gymnastics for a grade. Again my thoughts turned to my cousin, and I wondered why I couldn’t do even the simplest movements.
Sunday came around, and as I was looking through my scriptures waiting for church to start, my attention was drawn to two verses in the Doctrine and Covenants:
“For all have not every gift given unto them; for there are many gifts, and to every man is given a gift by the Spirit of God.
“To some is given one, and to some is given another, that all may be profited thereby” (D&C 46:11–12).
I realized then that each of us has different talents and capabilities and that we should develop those we have so we can lift and help one another. After reading those scriptures, I no longer felt bad that I can’t do gymnastics. I was happy for my cousin because she can!

While I was serving in the Presiding Bishopric many years ago, I was charged with overseeing the design and development group that created what we named FamilySearch. I am careful to say that I “oversaw” its creation rather than saying I “directed” it. Many brilliant people left careers and came to build what the Lord wanted.
The First Presidency had set a goal of reducing the duplication of ordinances. Their major concern was our being unable to know whether a person’s ordinances had already been performed. For years—or what seemed like years—the First Presidency asked me, “When will you have it done?”
With prayer, diligence, and the personal sacrifice of people of great ability, the task was accomplished. It came step by step. The first task was to make FamilySearch user-friendly for those who were not comfortable with computers. More changes came, and I know they will continue to come, for whenever we proceed to resolve one inspired problem, we open the door for further revelation for advancements at least equally important but not yet seen. Even today, FamilySearch is becoming what the Lord needs for part of His Restoration—and not just for avoiding duplication of ordinances.
The Lord let us make improvements to help people gain feelings of familiarity and even love for their ancestors and complete their temple ordinances. Now, as the Lord surely knew would happen, young people are becoming computer mentors to their parents and ward members. All have found great joy in this service.

Rodrigo Fontt of Osorno, Chile, has experienced the fulfillment of prophecy. His life has been changed just the way President Gordon B. Hinckley said lives would be changed when he announced the Perpetual Education Fund (PEF) to the Church three years ago.
While serving in the Chile Santiago West Mission, Brother Fontt worked in the mission office, where he learned what it was like to work in an administrative position. He enjoyed it, but in 2000, a year before the announcement of the Perpetual Education Fund, Brother Fontt returned home where he faced limited prospects for the future. Many returned missionaries around the world find themselves in similar situations. They have the desire but not the skills needed to rise above the poverty they and their progenitors have experienced.
Applicants to the program take a course called “Planning for Success.” In the course, many of them discover that they can achieve their goals without needing a loan. After hearing about the program and taking the course, Brother Fontt qualified and applied for a PEF loan and began working toward a degree in finance and administration. Though he now has a wife and young child and is working full-time to support them, he is currently in the third year of his educational program. He has become a leader in the Church, serving as bishop of the Antillanca Ward, Osorno Chile Stake.
Bishop Fontt is just one of many working hard to improve their lives. With his education, he and his wife feel that they are progressing not only temporally but also spiritually. They are achieving goals they would not have otherwise been able to reach.

Alexis also has a talent for kindness. In her class at school she noticed a boy with autism who didn’t have any friends. He was having a hard time learning and behaving appropriately. Alexis and four other girls decided to befriend him. They started helping him with his schoolwork and playing with him at recess. Pretty soon, he started getting along better with others. He’s a really good friend now, Alexis says.

In another stake, Relief Society president Mickie Neslen realized that financial security helps strengthen families. She and the stake presidency prepared a stake home, family, and personal enrichment meeting that traveled from ward to ward. It began with a spiritual lesson on finances. Afterward, the sisters were invited to visit five different stations with 15-minute presentations by knowledgeable sisters:
“Budgeting” featured various ways to keep track of and manage money with notebooks, envelopes, or software.
“Money-Saving Tips” consisted of simple ways to save money each day.
“Finances for Kids” demonstrated a variety of ways to teach finances to children, including interactive games.
“Preparing for the Future” reviewed information about disability insurance, assisted living, nursing care, and other retirement concerns.
“The Cost of Credit” pointed out the dangers of debt and how to avoid it.
These enrichment meetings helped educate and strengthen the sisters in many important ways.

“Come on, Jodi! It’s only one soccer match! God isn’t going to hate you for playing just this once on Sunday.”
“That’s right,” thought Jodi Allen, a seventeen-year-old from Sandy, Utah, and the best goalkeeper on her championship soccer team. “It is only one soccer match.” But to play in it would break a personal promise she’d made to Heavenly Father years before.
But how could she explain that to the teammates who were pressuring her to play? As a team, they had worked hard all season, winning the Utah state championship and traveling to the regional tournament in San Francisco, California, to compete against other winning teams from throughout the western United States. They had successfully played a couple of tournament matches and now had the opportunity to play a team that had beaten them the previous year. Jodi’s team wanted revenge, and a win for the team would place them in the regional finals.
But the game was scheduled for Sunday.
“Oh Jodi! Who do you think you are? Some of us are members of the Church too, and we’re playing on Sunday. Do you think you’re better than we are?”
So there was never a question about playing on Sunday—not even in this tournament. But making her teammates understand was another story.
“Look,” she tried to explain, “if I don’t play on Sunday, I’ll disappoint my team, and I feel bad about that. But if I do play on Sunday, I’ll disappoint so many more. I’ll disappoint myself, because I’d be breaking a promise. I’d disappoint my parents, who know how important that promise is to me. I’d disappoint my cousins, who don’t play on Sunday because of my example, and I’d disappoint my seminary teachers, who have taught me better. But most important of all, I’d disappoint God. I just can’t do that.”
It was a great explanation, but it didn’t do Jodi much good. All Saturday night the team tried to convince her to play. They made fun of her. They called her every name they could think of. Finally, at about midnight, Jodi telephoned home in tears. It wasn’t that she was tempted to give in. It’s just that she felt so alone.
Her parents listened. Her parents understood. Both her mother and father got on the telephone and had a prayer with her. After they hung up, they called an old friend in the San Francisco area and asked her to give Jodi some support.
The next morning Jodi got up and got dressed—in a dress, which she wore as she stood on the sidelines watching her team play. The final score was one-to-one. After the game, many of her teammates apologized for being so critical of her.
The team took third place overall in the tournament, which was better than they’d ever done before. Jodi thought this would be a highlight on which to end her soccer career.

My little sister and I weren’t the best of friends. But then, I guess we weren’t the worst of enemies either. Looking back at it, I guess we were typical teenage siblings. Sure, we loved each other, but we didn’t always show it.
We lived in an old Quaker farmhouse in the eastern Pennsylvania countryside. I was in ninth grade, Jenni was in seventh, and we both went to the same middle school. Every day we would walk to our own private bus stop, board the bus, and sit in separate seats. We didn’t want to be seen together. We didn’t even want our friends to see us talking to each other. It wasn’t cool.
But my heart changed one day. It was a cold, frosty, late-fall morning. I remember riding home from early-morning seminary in a dense fog. We had to drive slower than normal because we couldn’t see very far ahead. As soon as we arrived home, I went into the dining room, sat down, and began eating the scrambled eggs Dad had made.
Jenni came downstairs and joined us. My older brother and sister had to leave earlier than I did, so Jenni and I were soon sitting alone eating breakfast. We argued over something at the breakfast table—something so insignificant I can’t remember what it was anymore.
As usual, Jenni and I walked the distance to the bus stop without saying a word to each other. Our coats were bundled tight, and our scarves warmed our necks.
I arrived at the end of our quarter-mile, tree-lined driveway first. The fog was dense. I knew the sun was up, but we couldn’t see very much. I looked down the winding, two-lane highway for cars. I looked the other way. I couldn’t see more than 20 feet through the fog, so I listened keenly for sounds of traffic. I knew the coast was clear, so I darted across the highway safely to the bus stop.
I stood and waited for Jenni and the bus. Neither came. There was no traffic, either.
Am I even at the bus stop? I thought. I looked down at the gravel and knew that I was.
Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching caused my heart and body to jump. I looked, but couldn’t see anything. Is the car going to hit me? I wondered in an instant.
Then, through the thick haze I saw Jenni dodging a car. She ran to me for safety, but stopped, not knowing if she dared hug me. The car had missed her by inches.
My heart filled with love and concern for her. I wrapped my arms around her as she cried.
“It’s okay,” I said. “Everything is okay.”
I held her for what seemed several minutes, then let go. Soon the bus arrived, and we were on our way.
Ever since then, when my friends or family have been in difficult times of their lives, we’ve held hands and crossed through the fog together.

My beloved brethren: Last Saturday I was honored to speak to several hundred young men and women graduating seminary students from the high schools in Utah Valley. Under the leadership of a council of their own peers, they had planned a full day’s activity, which included visits to Welfare Square and the Beehive House, a talent assembly, a devotional and testimony meeting, and a lovely dance. To my knowledge, the only adult who took active part was the area supervisor who introduced me. The rest of the adults present were there to give silent support, and, by evening, were feeling their age after sharing a day of youthful vitality and enthusiastic activity.
I wish every adult leader in the Church could have been in attendance to share the spirit of that testimony meeting. With deep emotion, one lovely girl spoke of her reaction when it was discovered that her father had cancer. How she prayed and prayed that he be healed, then came to the realization that her prayers were selfish—that our loving Father in heaven was in control and that she should submit to his will. She evidenced a very mature outlook on life, something that some of us as adults never experience in a lifetime of living.
A handsome young man, obviously a football player, told of how his testimony had been strengthened through association with fine, faithful friends, most of them a year older than he. Graduating from high school and soon to be separated from one another, they had a “last fling” together, a visit to the lovely grounds of the Provo Temple. Then they went to a quiet spot where in the late evening hours 12 future leaders of the Church bore their testimonies of the divinity of the gospel and expressed their love for one another.
I have never heard so many expressions of love for friends and adult leaders who had influenced their lives.
The meeting was closed with “I Know That My Redeemer Lives.” I have never heard those beautiful lyrics sung with more genuine feeling. Tears fell freely as those great young people sang from their hearts.
I mention their experience because it is so typical of many other experiences I have enjoyed among this royal generation of youth. As Bishop Brown has stated, there has never been a finer generation. I have great confidence that the kingdom of God will be in capable hands as they assume their future roles of leadership, and I am equally confident that they now are capable of assuming much more responsibility for their own welfare than we have been willing to give them.
With the new direction given to the Aaronic Priesthood MIA program, it now becomes our responsibility as adult leaders to give our youth the opportunity to grow in their capacity to lead, to serve, and to love.
What a challenge adult leaders have in helping youth, particularly youth leaders, to learn their duty and perform to their fullest capacity while still leaving room for their own initiative and challenge as they anxiously engage in a good cause, doing many things of their own free will.
The Church leadership of the future will be built upon the foundation that is laid today. If youth are denied opportunities to test their own strength, then the leadership foundation will be weak and unready. Equally as serious, however, is thrusting unprepared youth leaders into situations in which they fail because the demands of that situation exceed their experience and capacity. Discouragement and doubt will result. The balance between enough responsibility and too much calls for fasting, prayer, and diligent service by youth and adult leadership as they labor together to build the kingdom. The Aaronic Priesthood MIA organization as introduced by Bishop Brown provides a setting where such a fine balance may be struck. With the bishopric of the ward—the presidency of the Aaronic Priesthood—in direct charge, the bishop’s youth committee, composed of the priests group leader, the Aaronic Priesthood quorum presidents, the girl class presidents, and the adult presidents of the Aaronic Priesthood MIA, becomes a forum where youth leaders can communicate with the bishopric. They can be totally involved in selecting their activities and be tested and taught great leadership principles without being smothered by too many adult leaders. Yet, this youth committee expands to the ward Aaronic Priesthood council with the addition of the adult leaders of the age groups, who can temper unbridled enthusiasm and zeal with their experience and practicality, exercising some degree of control without dominating the youth councils.
Bishops, an effective youth committee is vital to the success of your Aaronic Priesthood program. It may surprise you what these bright young people will come up with in the way of individual and group service projects and meaningful activities or suggestions for implementing their program.
If you have not discovered it yet, you will. Our young men and women have a deep sense of purpose and a keen appreciation for our social needs. They want to be of service; they want to be useful; they want to make this a better world in which to live. Witness the joy of the youth who gathered by the hundreds to clean ditches and gather the debris left by the recent floods in southern Arizona, or those who cleaned up an entire Utah community in a day of service.
An active youth committee in Cache Valley made it their project to take care of the aged and shut-ins. Each week the girls would prepare suppers and the boys would prepare lessons or activities to take to the homes of the unfortunate, giving them plenty of tender loving care in a family home evening situation. What do you think that did for those young people to be involved in such a worthy, compassionate service?
Their deep desire to be of service and to demonstrate their love can even benefit the bishop. In Sacramento, California, while the bishop was away on vacation with his family, the youth committee determined to paint his house. These young people had the time of their lives working together and anticipating the pleasant surprise of the bishop when he returned. A real bond of love was established between the youth and their bishop with such meaningful service.
Bishops, we urge you to make use of your youth committee; make it the effective instrument it should be to meet the needs of the youth of your ward. I hope every one of you will keep in mind the words President David O. McKay gave us so stirringly: “The spirituality of a ward will be commensurate with the activity of the youth.”
You will note, from Bishop Brown’s explanation, that each member of the bishopric has been given a particular age group—both boys and girls—to direct. What a marvelous opportunity this gives for the presidency of the Aaronic Priesthood to help our youth leaders learn the duties and responsibilities of their respective callings. And what a blessing it will be for our youth leaders to enjoy a close relationship with the great youth leaders of the ward.
To you Aaronic Priesthood quorum leaders, I hope you understand that the Lord outlined your duties as presidents of the Aaronic Priesthood quorums. He directed you to preside, to sit in council with your quorum members, and to teach them their duty. He didn’t give that assignment to your advisers; he gave it to you. You share the responsibility, with the bishopric, of blessing the lives of every member of your quorum as you fulfill your sacred calling. What a transformation takes place when young Jack Smith becomes President John Smith, deacons quorum president, entitled to revelation from the Lord in directing the affairs of that quorum, and President Smith really assumes the responsibilities of his office. You are too young for such responsibility? The apostle Paul sensed something of the inadequacy young men feel when they are thrust into leadership. He counseled his young “son in the faith,” Timothy, “Let no man despise thy youth. …” (1 Tim. 4:12.)
Dana Miller was approaching his twelfth birthday, looking forward to becoming a deacon. One evening, just prior to his birthday, the front doorbell rang. Dana’s father, a high councilor in the stake, answered the door to find three young men on the porch. “We are the deacons presidency and have come to call on your son, Dana.” Admitting these quorum leaders, Brother Miller retired to another room while the presidency sat down with Dana and outlined his duties and responsibilities as a priesthood holder. That visit had more impact on a boy’s life than hours of counseling from an adult could have. Today Dana is president of the deacons quorum. What kind of a president do you think he is with that kind of an introduction to the priesthood and example from his leaders?
The Lord has assured us, “For the power is in them, wherein they are agents unto themselves.” (D&C 58:28.)
My beloved young brethren, why are we so anxious to have you assume responsibility and learn your duties as priesthood bearers? Perhaps our reason was best stated by Elder Ezra Taft Benson in a speech he delivered to an Explorer conference several years ago. He said: “We are not a church of organized sitters; we are a church of organized workers, and we want you to get into it with all your enthusiasm and power. Young men, my brethren, we want you on the field. We want you sweating it out. We want you to have responsibility because you grow under responsibility.”
You royal generation, you special people that God has reserved to come forth in this day, may God bless you with an understanding of who you are and bless you with a knowledge and understanding of the mission that he has in store for you. May your lives reflect that you are disciples of Jesus Christ, and may you, like our elder brother, grow in “wisdom and stature, and in favour with God and man” (Luke 2:52), that you will be prepared for the awesome responsibilities that he has before you. I challenge you to do so, to honor your priesthood and to show these good brethren of ours, who are placing increased responsibility on you as bearers of the priesthood, that you are worthy of that honor.
I bear my witness to you that God is our Father, that he loves you. He has given you the opportunity to come to this life to gain a body and to experience the joys and the sorrows of life that you can return to him and be prepared for even greater service. May God bless all of us who render service to him. May we honor our priesthood and truly represent his cause, I pray humbly in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Michael Molling, 12, from Orem, Utah, was selected to be the young Vincenzo. For Michael, being cast was a pleasant surprise. He and a friend had been handed a flyer in the local shopping mall. He went to the studio, filled out a card with his name and address, and had his picture taken. He was called to come back for another picture-taking session, then received a phone call telling him he had the part.

“They called and said I got the part,” Michael explains. “After I hung up I ran and did somersaults and jumped all over the couch. I was happy.”

For his scenes, Michael had to learn to quote scripture in Italian. And he had to learn to put up with makeup and old-fashioned shoes several sizes too big as part of his costume. “The hardest thing,” says Michael, “was memorizing the words. When I would start to talk, I would start moving my knees, and the director would have to tell me to not move my knees. I didn’t even know I was doing it.”

One of Michael’s scenes is in a schoolroom with other boys his age. These boys are extras, called in to dress in costume and fill up the rest of the desks in the background. Erika Anderson, 18, is working as extras’ coordinator for the film, and it is her job to see that the boys are where they should be when they should be. Erika is rather young to have such an important position, but she’s been working in films for several years. Her father, David, is a film distributor and producer, and Erika has had a chance to work in different ways on films since she was 10.

“The first thing I ever did,” says Erika, “was be an extra. Then I worked on a commercial shoot in New York. I was a production assistant. My dad was in charge, and I helped run errands and time the shots.” Erika was recommended for the BYU film job, and Peter Johnson, the producer of the film and director of the Motion Picture Studio has been pleased with her work. “She shows such integrity in her work. She’s always there, always on time. We give her instructions, and she does what we ask. We never have to follow up with her.”

Erika has learned a lot about the importance of doing a good job. “What I’ve known all along is whenever a job is given to me, I have to get it done because someone is expecting me to do it. If you don’t hold your end up, everything can fall apart. I learned that at 13, so I’ve been practicing for a while.”

As extras’ coordinator, Erika describes her job this way, “When there are kids, I’m in charge of the kids. When there are adults, I’m in charge of telling them where to go and getting them all there and getting them committed to do it. It’s really hard, but it’s rewarding to see it all come together.”

Erika’s first thoughts after being told that they needed 250 extras for the scene in the marketplace outside the temple at Bountiful was, “Where am I going to find 250 extras on a Tuesday?”

Erika and her supervisor, Kathy Bessinger, casting director, did find them. They sent the call out to wards in Salt Lake and Orem areas. Then buses were arranged, lunch and dinner ordered for the crowd, and makeup and wardrobe people alerted. On this Tuesday, they had the crowd of extras they needed to shoot the scene.

Russ Holt, the director and screenwriter, explains how the project was initiated. “It started with President Benson’s call to the membership of the Church to increase their study of, interest in, and use of the Book of Mormon. It really originated with that.”

As the director, Russ has worked with a group of professionals that have translated the script into beautifully photographed scenes on film. Russ explains, “There are times when as a scriptwriter you envision this scene, and when it finally gets on film, it surprises you because it’s better than you imagined. Take the scene at the dock at Palermo, Italy. I thought we were going to do a simple little scene, but the art director, the cameraman, and others had a concept of what that could become, and they turned that scene into something gorgeous.”

Making the film has been a huge undertaking, lots of hard work and long hours. Because a film is produced in bits and pieces and then put together in the editing room, the actual day-to-day work is often not highly charged emotionally. Peter Johnson, the producer, explains, “We are magicians in the film business. The process that you see is not glamorous, and it’s not that emotional. When it’s all put together, then it reaches you.”

In this age of video, Peter also explains that seeing a movie about the Book of Mormon in no way replaces the experience of actually reading it for yourself. “You cannot replace through watching television or motion picture the actual one-on-one experience that you have with the Lord when you are reading scripture. That cannot be duplicated. I hope that the work that we do stimulates people to have a desire for that personal experience like Parley P. Pratt and Vincenzo Di Francesca had with the Book of Mormon.”

I knew a woman whose life paralleled Job’s. Her name was Joan Kinder. She was a deeply religious woman with a quick wit, a bright mind, and an engaging personality. Children and adults loved her, and she loved them. She was one of the most cheerful persons I have known. I had the privilege of teaching her the gospel as a British missionary in the mid-1950s. A decade earlier, at age 20, she had fallen in love and was engaged to be married. It was the mid-1940s, and World War II was still raging in Europe. Her fiancé was drafted into the British army and sent to the front. She became employed in a munitions factory and waited for his return. Near the close of the war the young man’s family received a letter telling of his death.
For a period of time Joan was at a loss. She joined the British equivalent of our Women’s Army Corps and was sent to the Far East. In Hong Kong she met another British soldier. They fell in love and were married. Eventually they returned to England and found a home to rent in her native town. He was posted a few miles away. It was not long before they were blessed with a son.
Two years later the husband was assigned to another post some distance from their home. It was decided that she would wait for him to be established before moving to the new area. A few months went by with him returning each weekend. Each time he would suggest they wait just a little longer before making the move. Then one weekend he failed to return. She visited the base the next week. He told her that an assignment had kept him. She was uneasy, feeling that something was happening to their marriage. Within a few weeks he told her about another woman and that he wanted a divorce. She was devastated. Her son was now three years old and would grow up without a father.
It was during this time that the missionaries knocked on her door. She invited them in, took a Book of Mormon, and promised to read it. Within a few days she completed reading the book. A special spirit accompanied the reading and, while praying about the predicament and challenges that confronted her, a feeling of peace came along with a witness of the sacred nature of the book. The missionaries were surprised upon their return to find a convert. But she insisted on waiting a few months before joining the Church. She felt time was needed to see if her husband would change his mind. More than anything, she hoped to save her family. Time passed, and the divorce became final. She then joined the Church.
From the beginning of her membership, she was a full-tithe payer in spite of the meager income available to support her son and herself. She worked in a small shop where her boy could be with her until he entered school. Then she became a seamstress in a factory with better pay. Her leadership abilities eventually resulted in her becoming part of the management staff. When her son was grown, she emigrated to this country and found employment with the Family History Department of the Church. She was a specialist in reading old English and old German manuscripts.
One day she received a call from the British Embassy in Washington, D.C. They asked for a meeting and sent a representative to see her. She was told in the meeting that her son had been killed while on business in a foreign country. For a period of time there was a sadness in her eyes and a heaviness in her heart. Then the cheerfulness returned. The twinkle in her eyes, her quick wit, and her love for people were irrepressible. My children loved to be in her presence. There was something special about this deeply faithful woman.
Not many years after her son’s death, Joan was crossing a street in Salt Lake City on her way to work. The morning sun had just topped the mountains in the east, and a woman driving east failed to see Joan in the crosswalk. Apparently Joan was not aware of the car coming at her. She may have been thinking about the wonderful blessings of the gospel of Jesus Christ that had come into her life. Suddenly there was an impact. The car hit her with tremendous force. Her time in mortality was over. A short time later I received a call from a common friend informing me of the accident and her death. I have thought often about this wonderful, interesting woman. Her life was filled with tragedy. Most of the things she wanted in life never materialized. One did—the greatest one! She found the hope that comes with a testimony of the gospel. In the end, that satisfied her. She knew she would see her son again. Parents and friends were eternal. She found joy in the gospel here and knew that unspeakable joy would be hers on the other side of the veil.

When “I Am a Child of God” was first written it read: “Teach me all that I must know to live with Him someday.” However, Sister Randall changed the words because of a suggestion made by President Kimball.

Several years ago, before Spencer W. Kimball became president of the Church, he was visiting a conference in California where Primary children sang this song. Later, he said to a visiting Primary general board member, “I love the children’s song, but there is one word that bothers me. Would Sister Randall mind if the word know were changed to the word do?”

The change was made, for President Kimball had pointed out a very important truth—that while it is important to know what is right, it is more important to do what is right. Only in this way can we be sure of returning someday to our heavenly home to live always with our Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and our loved ones.

On one occasion I was assigned to accompany Elder Neal A. Maxwell, then of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, to a stake conference. It was marvelous to be with one of the most remarkable gospel teachers of this dispensation. At the conference I gained an insight into how he had developed and magnified what was undoubtedly a God-given gift. As we were driving away from the stake center on Saturday evening, he turned in his seat and asked me, “What could I have done better to teach the principles we taught?”
I thought he had to be joking. But he kept on grilling me until he extracted from me a comment about some minor thing that might have been slightly unclear. The next day, in the Sunday general session of the stake conference, he clarified that minor thing that I had mentioned. I realized that I was with a humble disciple of Jesus Christ who welcomed counsel, was committed to being a lifelong determined learner, and desired to become better.

When I was 16, most of my friends at school weren’t members, but they knew that I was a member of the Church. They started to smoke and do other things I wouldn’t do. So things began to change between us; our types of conversation were very different, and our thinking and activities weren’t compatible.
One day my father asked me, “Why aren’t you thinking about your friends’ effect on you?” He counseled me to be careful and think about the necessity of changing my friends.
When I started at the university, I became very busy and didn’t spend a lot of time with my friends, but one time when we were together, they decided to do something bad. We were in a car, and they drove really fast. A policeman pulled us over, and I was scared. I remembered the words of my father about taking care of the future. That experience helped me make a decision about the kinds of friends I wanted to have.
I became very involved in Church activities. Attending Mutual was wonderful because I decided to have those kinds of friends. I learned that my father was right—that I should take care of my relationship with good friends. I needed friends who would help me prepare for a mission.