Gospel Story Finder

I have a friend named Jake, who, although he is not LDS, is a strong Christian. This past year we often chatted on Facebook. Jake often asks me questions about our religion, and I will use the scripture masteries to help him understand our beliefs. Jake believes in the Bible, so I often share a Bible scripture mastery and then share a Book of Mormon scripture that goes along with it.
One time he asked a question about our view of heaven. I was able to share the plan of salvation with him and refer to 1 Corinthians 15:40–42 to help him understand. By using the scripture mastery verses, I helped Jake to understand that we believe in the Bible.
Through the Internet I’ve shared the gospel and my own personal testimony of the Church. Jake often posts religious videos on Facebook and asks me to watch them. Afterwards, we discuss it, and a few times I’ve linked him to the Mormon Messages channel on YouTube.
Computers can be used for harm. However, we can and should use computers to share the gospel with friends and family.

A dramatic change occurred in the life of Howard W. Hunter on 9 October 1959. He and Claire had gone to Salt Lake City to attend the October general conference, and Howard received a note saying President David O. McKay would like to visit with him. President McKay informed him: “Tomorrow you’re going to be sustained as a member of the Council of the Twelve.”

After his name had been presented in general conference and he had been sustained, President Clark invited him to take his place with the Twelve on the stand. He recalled, “My heart increased its pounding as I climbed the steps. Elder Hugh B. Brown moved over to make room for me and I took my place as the twelfth member of the Quorum. I felt the eyes of everyone fastened upon me as well as the weight of the world on my shoulders. As the conference proceeded I was most uncomfortable and wondered if I could ever feel that this was my proper place.”

This calling came, of course, as a great surprise, and it brought great changes into the lives of Elder Hunter and his wife, Claire. After twenty-five years in Los Angeles, they left their business associates, Church members, and cherished friends in California. But the decision itself was easy because Elder Hunter had long ago established a hierarchy of values upon which his personal, professional, and spiritual decisions were based. Service to God ranked highest of all on his list of priorities.

First, be glad for the question. I remember a conversation with a beautiful Jewish girl. She had been explaining her feelings about Judaism and her heritage when, quite suddenly, she said, “I’ve always wondered what Mormons really believe.” How exciting it was to explain our pioneer beginnings and our prophets, comparing them along the way to her people’s history. We exchanged ideas for over an hour and still correspond.

Three Christmas trees stand out in the memory of Elder Gary B. Sabin.
The first was a beautiful Christmas tree of his youth. When Gary scaled the tree trying to reach a candy cane, the entire tree crashed to the ground.
The second was an evergreen branch he found as a missionary while serving in Belgium and the Netherlands from 1973 to 1975. Elder Sabin and his companion took the branch home to their apartment and propped it up around the Christmas cards they had received from home.
The third was a tree made of Christmas lights strung on the IV stand next to his daughter’s hospital bed. One of three Sabin children to suffer from cystic fibrosis, his daughter had received a double-lung transplant one year after the death of her brother from the same disease.
“We have learned a lot more from our children than they have learned from us,” says Elder Sabin.
As a General Authority he will remember the Christmas trees and the lessons he learned from them. Each tree highlights portions of his journey—from a young boy wanting a candy cane to a missionary teaching the plan of salvation to a father who relied on the plan and the Savior’s love to sustain his family through mortal trials.

Ouch! Have you ever been caught by a jumping cactus? Cholla cactus segments “jump” off to stick to your clothes, skin, or whatever else they can get their spiny claws into.
The LDS youth of New Mexico know how difficult it is to detach themselves from a prickly cactus. They got some extra practice though, as they cleaned the temple site in preparation for the Albuquerque Temple groundbreaking. Armed with shovels, rakes, and gloves, youth from four stakes assembled on a hot Saturday morning to rid the property of sagebrush, garbage, and cholla, so the weeds could be mowed and the ground would be safe to walk on for those attending the groundbreaking.
“It was hard work, but it was totally worth it for the temple to come,” says Robyn Sampson, 15.
Before the temple plans were approved, the youth fasted and prayed for a solution to the problems the temple’s project manager faced when he presented the plans to city officials. Now they say they are fasting and praying for the temple builders. But the prayers and the cleanup are only part of the work the young people of Albuquerque are doing in preparation for the temple. They are also working to make certain their own lives are clean.
Despite the burrs on their socks and an occasional scare from a snake or lizard, the Albuquerque youth succeeded in clearing the future temple site of every spiny cactus and broken bottle in sight. It might seem strange, but the youth actually enjoyed pulling cactuses and loading trucks full of sagebrush.
“We’re just so happy we will have a temple here. We thought it would never happen,” says Rosalie Campbell, 12.
Amber Chee, 17, looks forward to doing baptisms for the dead and getting married in the Albuquerque Temple someday. “It was really fun coming here. I felt the Spirit,” she says.
Both Rosalie and Amber have been to the temple to do baptisms for the dead before, but opportunities for trips to out-of-state temples come only once a year for the Albuquerque youth. They have to travel for at least eight hours to get to a temple in Denver, Colorado, or Mesa, Arizona, so they can do baptisms for the dead.
“Temples were always a faraway thing,” says Neil Peterson. As 16-year-old Neil wipes his brow, he says he enjoys helping out with something so important, even if it’s hard work.
Michelle Williams, besides concentrating on the cactus plants, was also thinking about what it will mean to have a temple in her area and about why she was cleaning up the temple site. “It’s very symbolic,” she says. “You have to be clean yourself to go to the temple.”
Logan King just turned in his mission papers and is waiting for his call. He won’t be able to go to the Albuquerque Temple before his mission, but he realizes the importance of having a temple close by and being worthy to attend it. “We need to clean all the cactuses out of our lives before we can go to the temple,” he says.
Researching family history is another way the Albuquerque youth are preparing for the temple. Many of them are more excited about doing family history now since they will soon have a temple in their area. Albuquerque’s Family History Center missionaries, Sister Wilcox and Sister Hatfield, say the temple will really strengthen the youth. Sister Wilcox says with the large number of young people in the area, there’s a “big push for genealogy.”
Sarah Sego, 17, loves doing baptisms for the dead and can’t wait for the temple to be built so she can continue to do baptisms. “I know it’s the right thing to do, because all those people are waiting,” she says.
Sarah is also helping others to learn more about why she loves going to the temple so much. She tells her friends about the temple and even tactfully shared her testimony of temple work with her high school current events class.
Sarah is not alone in her missionary efforts. Many Church members are having more and more opportunities to explain the gospel to others because of the temple.
“I think the temple will make people notice us more,” says Lisa Willis, 14, who also says she’s been telling her friends all about the temple. “The best part [of building a temple] is having people ask about it.”
Albuquerque’s full-time missionaries were also at the cleanup working hard. They say members in the area feel the temple will bring many blessings to them and to all the people of Albuquerque.
“While tracting, we stopped by a house and a woman opened the door and said, ‘Hey, I heard you guys are building one of those temples.’ That allowed us to get in the door and talk to her about the Church,” says Elder Moyer, from California. Many of the missionaries had similar stories.
The temple will actually be built in a valley where it can still be seen from faraway. In fact, it’s the same valley the Mormon Battalion came through on its famous march from the Missouri River to California. Coincidentally, the number of youth at the cleanup was about the same as the number of men who were in the Mormon Battalion.
At the groundbreaking ceremony, many young people who had been at the cleanup also sang in the youth chorus. The strains of “High on the Mountain Top” and “Holy Temples on Mount Zion” rang out over the crowd of thousands which gathered to see the temple ground dedicated.
“We all joined together to celebrate our temple,” says Tyler Lindsey, 16. “I knew that it was right and the ground was holy. I don’t know if we sounded good, but the Spirit was there.”
The Spirit is there. The spirit of service, of missionary work, and of love can be felt strongly in Albuquerque. Whether pulling cactuses or doing baptisms for the dead, the youth of Albuquerque are carrying out the Lord’s work with His Spirit to help them. The youth don’t know all the ways the temple will continue to change their lives, but they are looking forward to that day in the year 2000 when they can visit the Lord’s house in their own city.

One day I realized that I wasn’t reading my scriptures or doing some of the things I should be doing. I wasn’t being a good example to my brother and sister. So I decided to talk to my parents and my bishop about what was going on, to pray in the morning and at night, and to read my scriptures.

Sometimes I would pray to find answers to my questions through the scriptures. One morning, I prayed to have my eyes opened to something that I needed to know. I opened to Alma 38, where Alma is giving his son advice about things that you should and should not do. That really helped me out. This experience changed me because it opened my eyes to how much God loves us.

Doing what God wants me to do in the little things each day—including praying and reading my scriptures—helped me find these blessings.
Kade M., Hawaii, USA

Several years ago I went to Chapman College, and at the time I was the first Mormon to enroll in the school’s history. It is a religiously oriented school. I majored in the New Testament because of my lack of background in the Bible. I was so rare they used to put me on display there every Friday—you know, a real, live Mormon. Go look at him. I took time while at school to study our faith all the more diligently so it was kind of a two-pronged approach. I fell into the good graces of a marvelous professor of New Testament who later became a close friend of mine. In fact, I had the privilege 23 years later of performing his baptism—think of it—23 years of teaching and fellowshipping.

That fellowshipping started the first day I walked into a New Testament class. We met frequently during their so-called coffee breaks, and we would talk. We corresponded after I graduated. We had several personal meetings. I had him in my home. He later became critically ill. I left Salt Lake City on one assignment to the South, stopped off in Los Angeles, and went out to the Veterans Hospital to give him a priesthood blessing in a ward of about 200 men, none of whom belonged to the Church. It was interesting on that occasion to find that, when I called them to order the way the priesthood would do it, many others witnessing the scene were very interested. It’s in that kind of environment I find the real power of what we are and what we have, if we are not embarrassed, or if we will take the lead and go with it.

He later joined the Church. I had the privilege of confirming him. A few years later it was my honor to perform the sealing for him and his wife right here in the Provo Temple. He later became a member of this faculty. He died two years ago. I had the privilege of speaking at his funeral. I met him, I taught him, I baptized him, I fellowshipped him, I performed his marriage, and I buried him. Can you think of anything I left out? It’s that kind of wholeness that I think the gospel basically requires.

Not long ago, a friend recounted to me an experience he had while serving as a mission president. He had undergone a surgery that required several weeks of recuperation. During his recovery, he devoted time to searching the scriptures. One afternoon as he pondered the Savior’s words in the 27th chapter of 3 Nephi, he drifted off to sleep. He subsequently related:
“I fell into a dream in which I was given a vivid, panoramic view of my life. I was shown my sins, poor choices, the times … I had treated people with impatience, plus the omissions of good things I should have said or done. … [A] comprehensive … [review of] my life was shown to me in just a few minutes, but it seemed much longer. I awoke, startled, and … instantly dropped to my knees beside the bed and began to pray, to plead for forgiveness, pouring out the feelings of my heart like I had never done previously.
“Prior to the dream, I didn’t know that I [had] such great need to repent. My faults and weaknesses suddenly became so plainly clear to me that the gap between the person I was and the holiness and goodness of God seemed [like] millions of miles. In my prayer that late afternoon, I expressed my deepest gratitude to Heavenly Father and to the Savior with my whole heart for what They had done for me and for the relationships I treasured with my wife and children. While on my knees I also felt God’s love and mercy that was so palpable, despite my feeling so unworthy. …
“I can say I haven’t been the same since that day. … My heart changed. … What followed is that I developed more empathy toward others, with a greater capacity to love, coupled with a sense of urgency to preach the gospel. … I could relate to the messages of faith, hope, and the gift of repentance found in the Book of Mormon [as] never before.”
It is important to recognize that this good man’s vivid revelation of his sins and shortcomings did not discourage him or lead him to despair. Yes, he felt shock and remorse. He felt keenly his need to repent. He had been humbled, yet he felt gratitude, peace, and hope—real hope—because of Jesus Christ, “the living bread which came down from heaven.”
My friend spoke of the gap he perceived in his dream between his life and the holiness of God. Holiness is the right word. To eat the flesh and drink the blood of Christ means to pursue holiness. God commands, “Be ye holy; for I am holy.”

Tamma Miner’s first husband, Albert, died in January of 1848 when their youngest child was not yet two years old and their oldest only fifteen years of age. Tamma’s father, Edmond, was murdered by a mob at Nauvoo, Illinois, when Tamma was thirty-two and expecting her ninth child. Her daughter Melissa died during the persecution era at seven months; her son Orson died of a fever at seventeen; and another daughter, Sylvia, died at age two. Tamma, with her five remaining boys and two girls, started the journey to Salt Lake City across the Plains on June 10, 1850. Tamma’s writings include this wonderful declaration:
“I have passed through all the hardships and drivings and burnings and mobbings and threatenings and have been with the Saints in all their persecutions from Huron county to Kirtland and from Kirtland to Missouri back to Illinois and then across the desert. I write this that my children may have a little idea of what their parents passed through. I hope my children will appreciate these lines for I do feel highly honored to be numbered with the Latter-day Saints.”

I was not feeling the Christmas spirit. It was December of my senior year in high school, and college applications and my final Laurel project loomed before me. I hoped to find a volunteer opportunity that would flesh out my college applications and double as my Laurel project. Luckily my student council adviser asked my friend Jessica and me if we would organize a school toy drive for a local charity.
I delegated most of the work to the project committee. I had them create a bulletin board featuring a large thermometer that indicated the number of toys donated. We thought that was enough advertising, and we spent each lunch period collecting donations. Students donated few toys, however, and the thermometer remained low.
Strangely, our adviser began setting aside some toys. When Jessica and I asked what she planned to do with them, she told us that a teacher at the school had recently been diagnosed with cancer. After struggling to teach while going through treatment, he had decided to take a leave from work. With the holidays approaching and medical bills piling up, his family wouldn’t have much of a Christmas. Our adviser suggested that we wrap the set-aside presents for them.
My heart was touched. I had been looking at my service project as a means to serve only myself, not others. I decided to triple our goal for donated toys and to start a monetary collection for the teacher and his family.
Jessica and I visited classrooms and championed our cause. The response was enormous. Teachers, staff, and students gave toys and money to help the family. We soon surpassed our toy goal, which amazed the charity. We also collected more than $1,000 for the family.
As we carefully wrapped the gifts we had collected and purchased, I realized that the testimony of service I was receiving was just as great as the gifts we were giving. I can’t express the thrill I felt as we secretly watched the family discover the gifts we had anonymously left on their porch.
A few months later, Jessica and I were asked to teach a seminar on service projects. We explained what we had done without mentioning the teacher’s name. A girl raised her hand and stood. Tears flowed as she spoke. The teacher was her uncle, and she described how much our service had meant to him. She said it was an answer to his prayers.
What a joy it was that holiday season to come together in heartfelt service and know we had made a difference.

During a particularly difficult time, I was feeling quite unsettled. Actually, pretty desperate for the Lord’s help. By this point in my life, I knew Jesus Christ: who He was, and what He had done for me. I had faith that He could help me and would provide comfort.
I trusted Him. So I went in prayer, utilizing the power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ for relief.
Brothers and sisters, it took me a long time, well into my adulthood, to learn how the power of the Atonement works for me. But in that moment of prayer, as I asked God to lift my burden so I could set aside my grief and my concerns and focus on the tasks that I had before me, I felt immediate relief, and I felt this wise counsel, “You know where to find peace.”

Another time, my uncle, who was only three years older than I was, put me in a baby carriage and took me for a walk around the house. In front of the house was a road, and on the other side of the road was an irrigation canal. When he took me across the road, the carriage slid into the canal. It was empty at that time, but my uncle couldn’t get us out. My mother felt concern for me and began to call me. Then she looked for me in the house but couldn’t find me. She felt prompted to look on the road and in the canal. She found us and got us out of the canal just before the water started to come through the canal. Had she not listened to the Spirit, my uncle and I would have drowned.

I was the youngest of seven children, and every morning at 6 a.m. my father would bang on the door and say, “It’s time for prayer.” He would go into the kitchen and start cooking the oatmeal, and we would gather and get on our knees. Something we would often hear our parents say in our family prayers was, “Please bless the missionaries that they will be led to the honest in heart and that our children will have the desire to go on a mission.” When we were young and one of us was called on to say a prayer, we would almost always say the same thing, and it affected us.
In this way, our parents impressed upon our minds the importance of a mission from the time we were young. Perhaps this was because they had both served missions. My father served in the Mexican Mission, and my mother served in Missouri at the height of the Depression.
My mother’s mission taught her a great lesson on faith. Her bishop and stake president told her that it would be difficult for her to serve a mission because she had a speech impediment, which made it hard for her to be understood. But she felt impressed to go and had the overwhelming feeling that if she would be faithful, the Lord would correct her problem and she would be able to serve.
At age 14 she had received a blessing regarding a mission. Some time later she went to the secluded upper rooms of the meetinghouse and poured her soul out to her Heavenly Father regarding her desire to serve a mission. She felt inspired to call her uncle, who was a mission president in Missouri, and ask him if she could be his secretary. (Back then they didn’t have all the formalities concerning mission calls that we do now.) He said yes, and she was set apart by a member of the Quorum of the Twelve, who promised her she would bring many people into the Church. She was surprised at this, knowing that she had difficulty speaking.
However, after she began to serve, one of the sister missionaries became very ill. The mission president asked my mother to work with this sister’s companion so that the sister could come to the mission home to recover and her companion could keep working. My mother took a train to the area where she would be working. When she stepped off the train, she was met by a couple of elders, one of whom remarked when he saw her, “Why have they sent Sister Bennion? She can’t even talk.” She turned to that missionary and said indignantly, “Yes, I can talk.” And in that moment her problem was gone, and it never returned.
I was raised in a home where the parents prayed that their children would go on missions because they knew what a mission does. Without reservation, I can say that, apart from my marriage to my wonderful wife, nothing has done more for me than my mission—for education, learning to get along with all sorts of people, learning a foreign language. But much more than that, through my mission I came to know my Heavenly Father and my Savior. I know the Savior lives. I know that. I am so grateful for parents who taught me the value of a mission.
I would like you to realize that whatever you do as a young person will set a precedent for the rest of your life.
Before Helaman’s sons Nephi and Lehi went out on their missions, their father gave them this counsel:
“Behold, my sons, I desire that ye should remember to keep the commandments of God; and would that ye should declare unto the people these words. Behold, I have given unto you the names of our first parents who came out of the land of Jerusalem; and this I have done that when you remember your names ye may remember them; and when you remember their names ye may remember their works; and when you remember their works ye may know how that it is said, and also written, that they were good.
“Therefore, my sons, I would that ye should do that which is good, that it may be said of you, and also written, even as it has been said and written of them” (Helaman 5:6–7).
When Helaman spoke these words, 500 years had passed away and they were still remembering Lehi and Nephi of old and what examples they were as the first prophets in the Book of Mormon; they were still naming their children after them because of their good example and their good works.
Try to visualize your own future. You too can begin a legacy by the way you act. Someday you will have children just as Helaman did. In generations to come they can look back and say that you were good.
My father’s name was John. I have a hard time counting how many of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren are named after him because he was such a good man. He was honorable and well-loved, so his posterity named their children after this good man whose name they will remember by hopefully continuing that legacy.
I admonish you to make your name one that your family can be proud of and that will be remembered because of your good works for a long time. You should always keep your name clean and pure so that your grandchildren and great-grandchildren will remember you as an honorable person. They should be able to say that this wasn’t a person who took drugs or was involved in illicit sex or other sins, but one who remained faithful and worthy.
Believe me, your name will be remembered. For example, your missionary companions will speak of you whether you were a good missionary or not. It’s been many years since I served my mission, and I can still tell you the missionaries who gave everything, those who goofed off and broke mission rules, and those who did not give it their best. Many have expressed their regrets for not being the kind of missionary they could have been. Of course, nobody is perfect. However, as President Hinckley has asked, we should do the very best we can. Your name carries through from the time you are a young person up through your mission, through adulthood and beyond.
I worked as a real estate developer, and it’s not easy to get farmers to sell you their land. But I can tell you of many instances when I went out to find land to purchase and people asked me, “Are you John Arnold’s son?”
I would say, “Yes, I am.”
And they would say, “He was an honest man. I’m sure you’ll be honest with us.” I bought several properties because of my father’s good name.
My father never made much money, but my parents were honest and hard working, and they taught these values to their children. My father worked at a copper mine. He didn’t earn enough money to send his sons and daughters on missions or to college, so my parents bought 1,000 chickens for us to raise so that we could sell the eggs. They also contracted to deliver a large number of newspapers each evening to our neighbors.
My father would have us go out to the chicken coops and shoot the rats out of the feed troughs because they would eat the chickens’ food. On many occasions I would go out with a flashlight and a small gun to shoot the rats that were in the hoppers eating the chickens’ food.
I’ll never forget one night when I was out on that particular assignment. My father came home from a Church meeting and looked down at me and said, “Son, what flashlight do you have?” I looked down and realized it was the one my father took to work, and it had the name of the copper mine on the side. My father said, “Son, that flashlight is for me to use on the job. You should never take anything from your employer for personal use—not even a pencil, a flashlight, or anything else. Go back and get another flashlight.” I am so grateful for my father’s legacy of honesty.
Most of the money from the eggs and delivering newspapers went into the bank to help pay for our education and our missions. Five of the children used the money to serve missions and all seven graduated from college. The lessons of value that my parents taught me on honesty, hard work, the Word of Wisdom, the law of chastity, and many other things continue to bless my life.
What legacy will you and I leave behind to be passed on to those who will remain after we have passed away—especially our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren? I would hope it would be like that of Lehi and Nephi of old—a legacy of love, trust, and honor. We can and should set those who follow us for hundreds of years to come on a course that will lead them to happiness, joy, and eternal life.

Then I recall the picture of Rex Lee presiding recently at his last BYU commencement. He doesn’t want any of us to start a good-bye party now that lasts four months, but I won’t have a better opportunity than today to thank him and Janet for teaching me by the power of their example how to deal gracefully with adversity. Their lives these past few years capture what I would call “grace under pressure.”

In the sport of diving, a diver is judged not only by his or her overall execution, but by the difficulty of the particular dive. The responsibilities Rex has carried these past six years would never be easy, but under the physical constraints he has faced, the difficulty quotient kept ratcheting upward until his was one really tough dive. Yet he has done it with exquisite grace. I have known Rex Lee at close range for a long time, and I’ve never known anyone who was more cheerful and more patient in the midst of aggravating and sometimes agonizing afflictions. And what I have learned in watching him is that his patience and cheerfulness have invited the Lord’s strength into his life.

“You got a dog?” he finally asked Steve.
“No.”
“Well, let me tell you something. You get yourself a dog before your wife gets too set in her ways.”
“You like dogs?” he asked Cathy.
“They’re okay.”
“They’re a lot better than okay,” the man said. “A dog’ll never let you down, never complains when you don’t get home on time.” Fumbling for his wallet, he pulled out a picture and handed it to Steve. “Ain’t she something? She’s real pretty, huh?”
“Yes,” Steve answered.
“She’s part German shepherd and part wolf. But you know what?” the man continued. “My wife hates that dog. It’s her own fault, too.”
He bent the empty can in two and tossed it into the already full wastepaper basket. He wiped his mouth and continued his story. “My wife’s got false teeth. When the dog was just a pup, my wife left the teeth on the kitchen table overnight. Well, you know how pups are when they’re young. When we got up next morning, there were pieces of false teeth all over the place. That pup chewed up my wife’s teeth! Ain’t that something?” He reared back in his chair, laughing crazily.
The laughing brought Oscar from the garage; he added some other details about how long it took to get another set of false teeth and how his friend’s wife wouldn’t go out in public until they came. That started them both laughing again.

Some years ago I was invited to speak to a group of faculty and students at Harvard University. I, of course, hoped that the gospel message would be accepted and that our meeting would end in a harmony of views. As I prayed that this might result, there came to me a strong impression that this petition would not be granted.

I determined that, however preposterous the talk about angels and golden plates and restoration might be to my audience, I would teach the truth with quiet confidence, for I have a testimony of the truth. If some must come from the meeting unsettled and disturbed, it would not be me. Let them be disturbed, if they would.

It was as the Spirit foretold. Some in the group shook their heads in amazement that anyone could believe such things. But I was at peace. I had taught the truth, and they could accept it or reject it as they pleased.

Question # 6, what have been some of your most powerful spiritual moments in which you have sensed unmistakably Heavenly Father's intervention in your life?
This question has to do with things that may be too numerous, too sacred or too personal to mention. But I will point briefly to four or five instances of being profoundly affected and tutored by Heavenly Father. I have felt the presence of heavenly beings in the temple. I have felt his love wash over my body as I have prayed. As a young bishop in Hauula 2nd ward I had to replace my 2nd counselor and prayed earnestly to have the right person revealed to me. Brother Bill Blaisdell came vividly to my mind, so I called him. The night before Brother Blaisdell was to be sustained, I saw him in a dream. In the dream we shook hands and embraced each other. His smile was warm, his handshake firm. This little mini vision seemed to affirm that my choice was right. However, when I woke from the dream I wondered why Bill was featured at all this way since I had already decided on him to become my counselor. You can imagine how grateful I was for the additional divine assurance when another man in the ward stepped forward and challenged my choice of Brother Bill Blaisdell. He claimed it was revealed to him that he should be called as 2nd counselor, and that I had made a mistake. How grateful I was to counter his claim, not only with a lesson on how revelation works within stewardship, but also with the additional reassurance of the dream.

During my mission in the British Isles, I had one companion I thought was difficult to get on with. One night, I was reading a very touching story in the New Era about charity. After that, I prayed to Heavenly Father that I would be able to develop more love for this other missionary. The next two months of our companionship turned out to be the most successful time of my entire mission.
Fredy NebelZurich, Switzerland

My wife, Sarah, was 24 weeks pregnant when she started having a lot of pain. I gave her a blessing and then left for work. I was still at work when she called me home to take her to the hospital.
“Your baby’s coming,” we were told when we arrived. Since Sarah was only 24 weeks along, the baby’s best chance of survival was an emergency C-section.
“Your wife doesn’t need to go through any additional trauma,” the doctor told me. “She’s going to lose the baby anyway.”
Sarah and I talked and prayed about what the doctor had said. We felt that if there was any chance our baby could survive, we needed to take that chance. We had experienced difficulty having children. Our oldest son, Taylor, is adopted. When Sarah got pregnant two years after we adopted Taylor, we felt that it was a miracle. Now we needed a second miracle.
A little while later, a specialist came to us and said, “I think we may have time to get your wife to a children’s hospital in El Paso, Texas, that is equipped to care for premature and critically ill newborns. The baby will have a chance there!”
An ambulance pulled away from our local hospital with Sarah and sped toward the children’s hospital 45 minutes away. I followed close behind, pleading with the Lord in prayer to give us a miracle. I promised Him that I would stay on the gospel path and try to be better.
At the hospital, I told the doctor in the neonatal intensive care unit: “We know we have already had one miracle with my wife’s pregnancy. Now we expect another one.”
The birth went well, and our baby survived. After she spent four and a half months in the neonatal intensive care unit, we brought Shanna home. We had received a second miracle. Not many years later, we received yet another miracle—the Lord blessed us with twins.
Shanna has a slightly low IQ, and she’s in a wheelchair, but she’s full of joy, always positive, and a friend to everyone. She loves to tell you about her day, and she’s excited about life. She keeps us smiling and teaches us to be happy. We love her and are grateful for her. Shanna is truly a blessing.

In addition to personal growth, the clowns have been rewarded for their hard work with wonderful memories. “The first time we visited the hospital, we were all scared to death. We weren’t sure how we were going to work with crippled children. But they really responded, and it was a wonderful experience. When we finished we asked the nurse if there were any children who hadn’t been able to come.
“She took us to the room of a boy who had literally had his face ripped off in a car wreck. It looked like his face had been run through a meat grinder. He was so self-conscious that he wouldn’t come out of his room.
“So we were very careful. We walked in and said ‘Hi, we missed you. We wanted to give you a special balloon.’ At first he was really timid. But then he started to respond. And I was so proud of the clowns. They didn’t look away from him. They looked right at him and let him know that they cared about him.
“By the time they were finished, that boy was talking. He was friendly. He knew that he was somebody important, and that there were three or four clowns in that room who cared about him. He told us about his upcoming surgery, and we all wished him the best. It was one of the most giving experiences of our lives.”