Gospel Story Finder

Several years ago, the members of a teachers quorum decided to work together to do secret acts of kindness within their ward. It started when one or two of them fixed a broken bicycle for another quorum member without telling him they had been the ones to do it. When he eventually found out about their help, the quorum members decided to find others in their ward whom they could help anonymously. Because others soon became aware of the acts of kindness that were secretly being performed, they became known as the “ward phantoms.” Eventually, they had cards printed which they left as evidence that the “phantoms” had struck again, doing good and trying not to “get caught” at it. It was a long time before the ward finally figured out who had been at the root of these many good deeds of service.

As part of his redeeming power, Jesus can remove the sting of death or restore the spiritual health of a struggling soul. The scriptures are filled with examples, but a young Korean sister indelibly taught me this lesson. In early 1994, while attending a stake conference in Seoul, Korea, I met Kim Young Hee, a young woman in her 20s. I noticed her beautiful countenance as she sat in a wheelchair on the stand waiting to speak. When her turn came, a brother pushed her chair to the front of the stand but off to the side of the pulpit so she could see and be seen. He gave her a microphone and she told us her story.
As a young woman, she was healthy, had an excellent job, and was content with life. She was not a Christian. In 1987, she was in a terrible car accident that left her paralyzed from the waist down. Following her recovery in a hospital, she returned to her parents’ home wondering what life held for her. She was despondent and empty. One day a knock came at the door. Her mother answered, and two American women asked to share a message about Jesus Christ. The mother was hesitant, but the daughter heard the voices and invited them in. They were missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Kim Young Hee accepted the invitation to receive the missionary lessons. She read the Book of Mormon, prayed about its truthfulness, attended church, and received a witness of the divinity of the Restoration. She was baptized.
“I know that Heavenly Father does not look on the outward appearance, but on the heart. I also know that the true miracle is the healing within, the change of heart, the loss of pride. Although my physical body may not be healed in mortality, my spirit has felt the healing power of the Holy Ghost. And in the Resurrection, a fully restored, perfect physical body will again house my spirit and I will receive a fulness of joy.”

The Prophet Joseph Smith was our neighbor. We lived next to him on the corner of Main and Parley streets. He came to our house quite often for short visits.

One day my older brother, Wallace, and I were on our way to school. It had been raining the previous day and the ground was very muddy, especially along the street on which the building known as Joseph’s brick store was. Wallace and I both got stuck fast in the mud and could not get out. And, childlike, we began to cry. Looking up, I beheld the loving friend of children, the Prophet Joseph, coming toward us. He soon had us on higher and drier ground. Then he stooped down and cleaned the mud from our little heavy-laden shoes, took his handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped our tearstained faces. He spoke kind and cheering words to us and sent us on our way to school rejoicing. You can see why Wallace and I loved him.

For her master’s thesis, she organized and wrote a curriculum guide to teach outdoor skills. This became the basis for her national best-selling book, Roughing It Easy. But getting the book published was also an exercise in perseverance. She approached BYU Press to take on the job, but they turned it down. She kept working with an editor until the press reconsidered the project and agreed to publish the book. To promote the sale of her book, she started a series of lectures combined with local television, newspaper, and radio interviews. She prepared herself to go after opportunities. She made proposals to companies about how she could help them with product promotion. She became a favorite of the television talk show circuit not only because of what she talked about but by the force of her personality. Now she is a popular lecturer crisscrossing the nation regularly, talking to businessmen in Alaska one week and a group of teachers in Pennsylvania the next. She attributes her success to preparation. “I would watch for opportunities and be prepared. Sometimes I’ll think and work on a proposal for months before approaching a company.”

For instance, I was speaking to the missionaries at the Language Training Mission, when I suddenly felt impressed to testify of the intrinsic worth of each person there. There was no need to compare oneself with another, that the Lord knew and loved each one as a separate person and had special guidance and power to give in helping each one move on to the next step, etc., etc. Afterwards, several asked me to bear that exact testimony again and to give more explanation, almost as if they desperately wanted to believe it. One was almost overcome with a feeling of relief and joy.

James Setterberg was also part of the first generation of missionaries to use Preach My Gospel. When he arrived in the Texas Houston East Mission in 2005, his fellow missionaries had been using the resource for several months. But because of the example of a local priesthood leader, Elder Setterberg realized that the tool’s usefulness wasn’t limited to the missionaries.
“In one area, we missionaries lived in the home of a stake president and his family. Every morning, they got up for scripture study, which included going through the various chapters of Preach My Gospel. That’s when I realized that this book really is for everyone,” he says.
It was a lesson he brought home with him. “Before my mission, I had never really set specific goals for my life; I guess I didn’t want to overshoot things,” he admits. “But because of the emphasis on goal setting from my mission president and chapter 8 of Preach My Gospel, that began to change.”
Weekly planning and goal-setting sessions for two years formed a habit that James has retained since his return home. He has, for example, set and worked toward educational and spiritual goals. He says, “I’ve come to realize that without setting goals, you can’t really tell where you are in life, progression-wise. But when you do set and work toward goals, you stretch yourself and become a better person. I have Preach My Gospel to thank for learning that.”

I saw again the power of keeping covenants through a chance conversation with a man I sat down next to on a trip. I had never met him before, but apparently he had seen me in the crowd because his first words after I introduced myself were, “I’ve been watching you.” He told me about his work. I told him about mine. He asked about my family, and then he told me something about his. He said that his wife was a member of the Church and that he was not.

After he came to trust me, he said something like this: “You know, there is something in your church you should fix. You need to tell your people when to quit.” He explained that he and his wife had been married for 25 years. She had been a member of the Church since childhood. In their years of marriage she had only once stepped into a building of the Church, and that was to tour a temple before its dedication, and then only because her parents had arranged it.

Then he told me why he thought we ought to make a change. He said that in those 25 years of married life, in which his wife showed no interest in the Church, visiting teachers and home teachers had never stopped coming to their home. He told of one evening when he went out to walk his dog alone only to find the home teacher happening by with his dog, eager to visit with him.

He told, with a touch of exasperation, of another night when he came home from a long business trip, put his car in the garage, and then came out to find his home teachers standing there, smiling. He said to me something like, “And there they were, right in my face with another plate of cookies.”

I think I understood his feelings. And then I tried, as best I could, to tell him how hard it would be to teach such teachers to quit. I told him that the love that he had felt from those many visitors and their constancy over the years in the face of little response came from a covenant they had made with God. I told him about the baptismal covenant as Alma described it in the Book of Mormon. I didn’t quote these words, but you will remember them as Alma asked those he had taught whether they wished to be baptized:

“And it came to pass that he said unto them: Behold, here are the waters of Mormon (for thus were they called) and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light;

“Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life” (Mosiah 18:8–9).

Those home teachers and visiting teachers understood and believed that the covenant to be witnesses and to love were intertwined and that they reinforced each other. There is no other way to explain what had happened. My new friend recognized that the visitors had genuine concern for him and for his wife. And he knew their caring sprang from a belief that impelled them to come back. He seemed, at least to me, to understand that those visitors were driven from within by a covenant they would not break. As we parted I think he knew why he could expect that there would be more visits, more evidence of caring, and more patient waiting for the opportunity to bear testimony of the restored gospel. As we parted, I realized that I had learned something too. I will never again see home teaching or visiting teaching as only programs of the Church. Those faithful teachers saw what they were doing for what it really was. Such work is an opportunity, not a burden. Every member has made the covenant in the waters of baptism to be a witness for God. Every member has made a covenant to do works of kindness as the Savior would do. So any call to bear witness and to care for others is not a request for extra service; it is a blessing designed by a loving Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus Christ. They have provided such calls as well as other settings, sometimes without a formal call, all for the same purpose. Each is a chance to prove what blessings flow from being a covenant people, and each is an opportunity for which you agreed to be accountable. Each is a sacred responsibility for others accepted in the waters of baptism but too often not met because it may not be recognized for what it is.

One hot summer day, Jonathan rode his brand-new bike from house to house delivering newspapers. The heavy newspaper bag hanging from his handlebars banged into his legs as he pedaled. Sweat ran down his forehead, and his hands were so sweaty they soaked the handles on his bike, but he didn’t care. He had earned enough money from his newspaper route to buy his own bike, and just riding it made him happy.
It was hard to ride fast with the newspaper bag so full, but Jonathan was trying to hurry so that he could get to his ball game. When he was almost finished with his route, he ran through some lawn sprinklers to get the newspaper to a dry spot on the porch. He liked the cold water spraying all over him so much that he ran back and forth to the porch two more times.
Then Jonathan saw his friend Kevin a couple of blocks away. Kevin’s paper route was right next to Jonathan’s, but Kevin wasn’t riding his bike or throwing papers onto porches. He was bent over his bike like there was something wrong. Jonathan delivered his last two newspapers and rode over to see what was going on.
“Tire’s flat,” Kevin said. He kicked the ground and shook his head sadly. Then he lifted his newspaper bag off his handlebars and dropped it to the ground with a thud. It was still half-full of papers. “Now what’ll I do? Our baseball game is in half an hour.”
Jonathan saw sweat running down Kevin’s face. His eyes were moist too. Maybe the moisture wasn’t all sweat, Jonathan thought, and he felt really sad for his friend.
“You can take my bike.” Jonathan said it so quickly he surprised himself. What if Kevin ran over a nail with Jonathan’s brand-new bike? What if he crashed into something and bent the handlebars? What if he laid the bike down behind a car and the car ran over it? Jonathan suddenly thought of a lot of things that could happen to his bike.
“Thanks a lot!” Kevin said. His face lit up with a big smile. “Are you sure?”
Jonathan wondered if he was really sure. His parents had talked to him a lot about taking good care of his bike. But when he thought of his parents, he remembered scripture stories they had taught him about helping others. And his dad was always helping people. A lot of the time Jonathan got to help too. He helped his dad get firewood for a family whose truck had broken down. He helped his dad clean Sister Story’s yard when she couldn’t get around very well. That was fun because she had a little dog named Peetie, who liked Jonathan a lot. He remembered his dad driving him to Brother and Sister Call’s house to leave treats on the porch, knock, and run away. They did that several times until the Calls guessed who was doing it. After that, they knocked, took the treats into the house, and stayed for a good visit.
The more Jonathan thought about his dad, the more he was sure he wanted Kevin to borrow his bike so he could finish the route and get to the baseball game. “Sure I’m sure,” Jonathan said. “I’ll push your bike to my house and you can pick it up after the game. Maybe my dad and I can help you fix it.”
“Wow! Thanks again,” Kevin said.
They took Jonathan’s empty newspaper bag off the bike. Kevin put his half-full bag over his shoulder and took off pedaling fast. “See you at the game!” he yelled.
As he pushed Kevin’s bike down the street, Jonathan didn’t stop to splash more cold water on himself. He already felt great!

On a rainy morning in 1953, 79-year-old President David O. McKay visited Thurso, Scotland, to see the home where his forebears had embraced the restored gospel more than 100 years earlier. President McKay’s son Llewelyn, who accompanied him on this visit, recalled: “[As we approached the home], the sun broke through the clouds and smiled at us as though he were reflecting the joy and happiness in father’s heart. As we all gathered in front of the home, tears came to father’s eyes as he looked through the door. ‘If it had not been for two missionaries knocking on this door about 1850, I shouldn’t be here today!’” he declared.1
Even though the home had fallen into disrepair and was by that time used only to store potatoes, President McKay lingered for some time in the doorway, speaking fondly of what had happened there. The gratitude and joy President McKay expressed that day were characteristic of his life and ministry. As a General Authority for almost 64 years, including 19 years as the ninth President of the Church, he served with the energy of one who cared deeply for people and for the gospel and found joy in bringing the two together.

by Vickie Toy
Early one hazy September morning a large group of teenagers showed up on Main Street in Shelley, Idaho, with brushes and paint cans, determined to paint the town red or whatever color the proprietors of the businesses selected.
In total, the group of youth from the Shelley Idaho Stake cleaned up and painted 11 stores. Even the local bar got a new coat of paint, as well as the police station. They also cleared away rubbish, pulled weeds, and planted hundreds of flowers.
With a population of 4,000, Shelley is largely an LDS community. The cleanup day was designed by caring Young Men and Young Women leaders to give the youth an opportunity to experience the joy of service.
“I thought it looked real neat when we cleaned up the town,” said Norina Cox, 12. “I was proud to say I helped.”
“I liked the feeling I got when we fixed up Shelley. It was worth the effort,” added Kristen Sargis.
The downtown street was deteriorating. Over the years, businesses had closed and storefronts stood vacant. Plans for the downtown cleanup started long before the activity took place. Church leaders met with the city council and the Chamber of Commerce to coordinate plans. Paint was donated, and equipment offered.
At the end of a hard day, the youth gathered to celebrate at a street dance held in a local parking lot.
“I’d been involved in Scout service projects before,” said Shane Thiemann, “but this was a giant one. It improved the way people feel about our town.”

“Actually, I can” is my personal motto. When people meet me for the first time, they don’t realize that I can do a lot of things if I’m creative and put my mind to it.
When I was eight years old, I was diagnosed with juvenile idiopathic arthritis. I thought I would have to give up all the things I love to do—dance, softball, volleyball—but my medication allowed me to keep living my normal life. I stayed super active and kept doing what I loved. I even started playing the snare drum in marching band. Then in 10th grade, my arthritis flared up and I got really sick. I couldn’t hold up my snare drum anymore. And I had to quit dance because it was too difficult for me to participate.
I tried to stay positive. But I really missed my snare drum. Even though I wanted to give up, my family encouraged me to find hope. We figured out how to attach my snare drum to my wheelchair, and soon I was playing in the marching band again!
Lots of times when we’re faced with challenges, we automatically think we can’t do it. But the truth is that “actually, I can.”
Jess P., 17, Utah, USA

The day after my baptism, I was confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It was a fast and testimony meeting, and I decided, for the first time ever, to bear my testimony. As I spoke, a wonderful, warm feeling filled my heart. It was a confirmation of the Spirit that joining the Church was the right thing to do. That warm feeling was the beginning of my small testimony, which grew as I grew older. I know that children can gain testimonies of their own and that even small testimonies are enough to help us choose the right.

When I turned 14, I moved to Texas, USA, to join my parents and siblings. I found a local church and began attending regularly. Because of my experiences with God, I wanted to share His name and gospel with everyone who would hear me. At age 15, I enrolled in ministry school to become a minister. For two years, I attended Bible classes before school, after school, and on weekends.
One morning at high school, I heard noise in the boys’ locker room. “You Mormon!” someone yelled. I had never heard that term before, but it sounded like an insult.
Later I found out that the person being yelled at was my good friend Derek.
“I am sorry you got called a Mormon,” I said.
Derek smiled and asked, “You don’t know what a Mormon is, do you?”
He told me it was a nickname for members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
“So, are you a Christian?” I asked.
When he said yes, I was happy to know that we shared faith in Jesus Christ.
“Who are these Mormons,” I wondered, “and what do they believe?”
I went to the internet to find out. After a few minutes, I decided that my friend was not a Christian after all and that he was going to hell. So, I embarked on a mission to save him.
For the next two years, I read every book I could find about the Church, including the entire Book of Mormon—twice. I also met with Derek and the full-time missionaries to try to help them.
When I turned 17, I graduated from ministry school, was ordained a minister, and became the pastor of a small congregation in Texas. Two months after my ordination, I had another discussion with the missionaries.
One of them asked, “You’ve read the Book of Mormon, and you’ve taken every lesson we can offer, but have you asked God if our message is true? You would recognize an answer from Him, right?”
“Of course,” I proudly responded.
“The way I see it, it’s a win-win situation for you,” the missionary responded. “If you ask God if what your friend believes is true and God says no, then you have accomplished the mission for which you began this journey. But if He says our message is true, then think about how much you could gain.”
I had never thought about it like that. That night I knelt in my room after reading Moroni 10:3–5. My answer from God was simple but powerful. In a still, small voice, He answered me: “You’ve always known.”
Now that I had a testimony of the restored gospel, what about my ministry? I still had 10 months left in my contract as a minister. After much prayer and counseling with God, I decided to complete my service. For the next 10 months, I continued to share traditional Bible truths, but when possible I added the perspective of the restored gospel. People resonated with those truths, and my little flock grew from 20 to nearly 150.
After I had completed my contract, I was offered a permanent position, but I knew it was time to be baptized into the Church. It was time to begin a new chapter in my journey of discipleship.
When I told members of my family, they were not happy—at first. But three months after I joined the Church, I baptized my mother and two of my siblings. After serving a full-time mission in the Oklahoma Oklahoma City Mission, I baptized my younger sister.
If someone asks why I changed my religion, I always answer, “I didn’t change my religion—I am still a devout Christian. Rather, I simply strengthened my relationship with the Savior by becoming a baptized member of His Church—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know Him more personally and intimately now than before because of the Restoration of the gospel, the Book of Mormon, modern prophets, and the sacred ordinances of salvation and exaltation available in the temple.”
Today I have the privilege of working as a full-time seminary teacher. I am still dedicating my life to Jesus Christ and His gospel. And I am still telling anyone who will listen about the “good tidings of great joy” (Luke 2:10).

Kim Ho Jik was the first Korean to be baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was born April 16, 1905, to Confucian* parents in P’yöngyang Province. As a young boy, he yearned to find the true religion, and he began attending many different church services. He joined the Presbyterian Church in 1925 and was very active, but something still seemed to be missing from his life.

Ho Jik wanted to learn about many things, so in 1950 he went to Cornell University in New York State to study nutrition. There he met Oliver Wayman, a fellow student and a Church member. Ho Jik was impressed by Brother Wayman’s clean lifestyle—he didn’t smoke, drink, or do other bad things.

When Oliver gave him a copy of The Articles of Faith by James E. Talmage, Ho Jik read it within a week and eagerly asked for more information. Soon he had finished the Book of Mormon, too, and believed it to be the word of God. He started attending Church meetings with Oliver; he also continued to attend Presbyterian services.

On the day Oliver left the university, he stopped his Korean friend in a hallway. “I then bore my testimony of the gospel and told him that it was my opinion that the Lord had moved upon him to come to America … that he might receive the gospel and take it back to his people.” He also told Ho Jik that “if he refused to do the work the Lord had for him to do, another would be raised up in his place.”

Those words had a powerful effect upon Kim Ho Jik. He read the Book of Mormon again, and the Spirit again told him it was true. In July of 1951 he was baptized in the quiet waters of the Susquehanna River, near the place where Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery had been baptized. As he came up out of the water, a voice said to him, “Feed My sheep. Feed My sheep.”

Brother Kim graduated from Cornell a short time later—getting the degree that entitled him to be called doctor—and returned home to South Korea, which was at war. Amid the violence and destruction, he felt the quiet peace of the Holy Ghost as he attended Church services with LDS servicemen from the United States.

Dr. Kim was given many important responsibilities by his country. He was a professor at various universities and president or dean of several colleges, and he later became vice-minister of education and president of the Seoul City Board of Education. He was also a well-known expert on the nutritional content of the soybean. In spite of his many duties, he faithfully obeyed the Lord’s command to feed His sheep.

In 1955, President Joseph Fielding Smith of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Dr. Kim, and several servicemen traveled to one of the hills that overlooked Seoul, the South Korean capital. There, in a quiet, private place, President Smith dedicated the land for missionary work.

Soon Dr. Kim was president of the Korea District of the Church’s Northern Far East Mission. He helped the Church gain legal recognition in South Korea so that missionaries could serve there, and he even rented a house where they could stay. Members and investigators met there often to discuss the gospel with the elders.

Dr. Kim translated the Articles of Faith, the sacrament prayers, hymns, and other Church materials into Korean. He served as a branch president, and he donated much of his money to the missionary effort and the poor. His example led many to investigate the Church.

Dr. Kim passed away suddenly on August 31, 1959, at the age of 54, just eight years after his baptism. But he had tried hard to feed the Lord’s sheep, preparing the way for tens of thousands of Koreans to become members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I recall a particularly important crossroad—the decision to go on a full-time mission. I stood on that crossroad for a very, very long time. As I struggled to decide which road to take, my family, friends, and priesthood leaders came forward to take my hand. They encouraged and challenged me and offered countless prayers on my behalf. My full-time missionary sister wrote to me regularly and never gave up.

Even today, I am still carried on the shoulders of good men and women. I suspect that we all are. To some degree we all depend on each other to be able to make it back to our heavenly home.

During the days of Joseph Smith, there were some who were pretenders to apostolic authority. One such was an elder who was sent by Joseph Smith to preach the gospel. It was not long until he proclaimed himself a high priest and that he had been ordained by an angel from heaven. He deceived some Church members. He was called back to Ohio by the Prophet Joseph Smith and questioned about his claims. He soon confessed that he had lied and begged forgiveness. Orson Hyde, one of the Twelve Apostles, recorded the principle that the Prophet then taught all those who were assembled in the School of the Prophets:
“No true angel from God will ever come to ordain any man, because they have once been sent to establish the priesthood by ordaining me thereunto; … the priesthood being once established on earth, with power to ordain others, no heavenly messenger will ever come to interfere with that power by ordaining any more. … You may therefore know, from this time forward, that if any man comes to you professing to be ordained by an angel, he is either a liar or has been imposed upon in consequence of transgression by an angel of the devil, for this priesthood shall never be taken away from this church” (“Although Dead, Yet He Speaketh,” Millennial Star, 20 Nov. 1846, p. 139).

My husband’s illness came on suddenly. One morning he was cutting the lawn, and the next thing we knew he was falling ill. By the next day he was on life support. As we moved from the emergency room to the operating room, one of the doctors spoke of if they would be able to save him.

Because the illness he contracted was rare, he had a slim chance of survival. I couldn’t believe the dramatic turn of events. I felt overcome with despair.

Thankfully, Pierre made it through his first surgery and was admitted to the intensive care unit (ICU). There would be a long road ahead, but his chances improved with each passing hour. The first of many nurses spoke to me the morning after the initial surgery. She talked about when Pierre made it to the next step of the treatment. I paused with the impact of that word. There was so much more hope in when than if—it communicated confidence, expectancy. I thanked her for the choice of word, and she smiled knowingly.

Pierre received many priesthood blessings, which provided great encouragement. We knew to watch for the hand of the Lord in our lives, since His influence was not a matter of if but of when. Every time Pierre’s health became dangerously fragile, I reminded him of the blessings and that we needed to demonstrate our faith in the Lord. This was a sacred journey, and each day was a gift.

The hope of when kept us positive. However, 18 days into the journey, things went terribly wrong. During the seventh surgery, his doctors determined that the disease was too widespread. The medical team tearfully expressed their sorrow as they told me that Pierre would not survive the night.

I was able to be with my eternal companion as he passed through the veil. We were blessed to have his only living child from a previous marriage on the phone to relay the love that he had for his father. Pierre passed peacefully.

Weeks later, at his graveside, words of comfort came from Mosiah 2:41: “Ye should consider on the blessed and happy state of those that keep the commandments of God. For behold, … if they hold out faithful to the end they are received into heaven, that thereby they may dwell with God in a state of never-ending happiness” (emphasis added).

Pierre and I had always determined that the if in that scripture would be a when for us. We knew that by staying committed to our covenants, we would be reunited—it was a question only of when. We trust in the Lord’s plan of eternal families and eternal life. It’s the power of when that keeps us moving forward.

It isn’t easy to give up an appointment to the U.S. Air Force Academy, but that’s exactly what Timothy P. Kuehne of the Lake Ridge Second Ward, Fredericksburg Virginia Stake, did. His reason? He was called to serve in the Germany Hamburg Mission. “This was a very difficult decision,” said Timothy. “I love the Academy. But I also have a great desire to serve the Lord.” He hopes to return to the Academy after his mission.

The children shuffled in as usual, the timid ones clinging to their mothers’ skirts, the bold ones smiling happily on the front rows. Everything seemed normal—except who is that playing the music? Someone different is conducting, and look at all those teenagers scattered among the children.
In the Vancouver 9th Ward, Vancouver Washington Stake, the Young Men and Young Women took over the Primary for one day. The adult members of the ward had been called to attend a special meeting with the bishop. The young people gladly accepted the assignment as substitute teachers and music leaders. Both the children and the youth loved the experience as they learned from each other.

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