Gospel Story Finder

How many of us get frustrated and impatient when we are forced to stop for 5 or 10 minutes because of road construction on Kamehameha Hwy? "Why does this have to happen to me?" e ask ourselves, or "I'm already late to my appointment. Will this construction ever finish?"
Well, I reacted that way all the time until my chiropractor in Kaneohe scheduled me for 3 visits a week for 12 consecutive weeks. I knew I had to find a way to endure those construction stops that occurred two or three times each way. As I stopped at each road block, I turned my head to the left and right of the highway and started noticing more than just the road construction. The wide angle lenses were on my soul and I saw how beautiful the scenery was on either side of Kamehameha Hwy. I wondered to myself, "How did I miss it all these years before?" I saw attractive houses and yards I had never noticed before. The ocean had its own personality and characteristics at different points along the Kam. Highway route. I even noticed the rock formations that seemed to change on a daily basis. And instead of envisioning a pontoon bridge right across Kahana Bay, I saw several hues of green and blue in its depths and on some days the surface was so still it was like a mirror was laying on the surface. It is a gorgeous bay!

The Koolau mountain range had so many ridges sculpted by years of erosion that it created a different appearance each time you viewed them depending on how the sunlight was hitting them at various times of the day. I even discovered a major landslide deep in the mountains of Kahana Valley that could only be viewed from a certain angle as I turned the corner from Crouching Lion. I began to gain a deeper appreciation for the wonders and beauty of the windward side of Oahu. I always knew Hawaii was beautiful but it wasn't until I had to stop at those many road blocks did I begin to develop a love and sense of humble gratitude for God's creation of these islands. I looked forward to my trips to Kaneohe because I was drinking in the beauty of this island from my saucer.

The responsibility of an apostle of the Lord to try to be helpful to the followers of Christ is a very heavy one. I share an experience that helped develop my feelings about that subject.
Thirty-six years ago, on the day after I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve and sustained in general conference, I was alone in my home in Provo, contemplating the significance of that calling. Our youngest daughter, Jenny, then only eight years old, entered the room. As I looked at her with all the love I felt for her, I realized that she was only one of hundreds of thousands of little girls throughout the world, also children of our Heavenly Father, whom I was now responsible to try to help as an apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ. Contemplating that reality, I could not contain my feelings and did something I have rarely done in my adult years. I wept.

It was Sunday morning, and Lissa was nervous. Her ward boundaries had been changed. That meant she would be going to a new ward today. Dad and Mom saw that Lissa was worried.
What’s wrong?
I won’t know anyone in the new ward. Why did they have to change our old ward?
It’s actually a good thing. The Church is growing. That means more people have accepted the gospel.
Will I ever see my friends from the old ward again?
We will make sure you do. You can invite them to our house for your birthday.
At church Lissa walked into the Primary room. She saw some of her friends from her old ward, but there were a lot of new faces too. In class Lissa and the other children played a game to help them learn each other’s names. The new children seemed nice.
After class Lissa found her parents and little brother waiting for her in the hall.
Mom, do you think I can invite the new children to our house on my birthday too?
That’s a great idea.
That week Lissa and Mom made invitations for children in their old ward and for children in their new ward.
On Lissa’s birthday, all the children arrived. They played the game she played in Primary so everyone could learn the names of everybody else.
Did you have a good time?
Yes! Now I have old friends and new friends!

It was late in the evening, and I had just begun to work on homework due the next day. The phone rang while I was in the middle of a particularly difficult calculus problem. The call was for my dad, as most of our calls have been since he was called as our ward bishop. I handed the phone to him and sat down again. I was so engrossed in my work that I was not aware of his conversation.
“Shallin,” my dad said, bringing me out of my deep concentration, “do you know anyone in the ward who speaks Spanish?”
“Nope,” I answered.
“Well, someone from the temple just called and asked if a Venezuelan girl who speaks only Spanish could do baptisms for the dead with our ward tomorrow night. They want me to find someone to translate for her,” he continued.
“I can’t think of anyone,” I said.
“Neither can I. Do you think you could help her?”
Immediately I started to explain that taking Spanish in high school did not exactly make me a fluent speaker. But before I could think of any more excuses, I remembered some of the wonderful experiences I have had at the temple. I did not even know the girl, but I imagined how anxious she must be to come to the temple and I knew I could not let her down.
“I’ll try,” I responded.
As we left for the temple the following day, I became really nervous. I could hardly remember any Spanish at all. I wanted so badly for this young woman to have a wonderful experience, and to feel the spirit of the House of the Lord. I said a silent prayer that she and I would be able to understand what was necessary and that her expectations would be met.
At the temple, a beautiful young woman waited for us, already dressed in white. She was calm and glowed with happiness. I explained to her in broken Spanish that I was a sorry excuse for a translator. She smiled and expressed her gratitude for my efforts. I offered one more silent prayer, and I immediately began to feel the powerful Spirit of the Lord.
In the baptismal chapel waiting for the rest of the group, I opened a set of scriptures. Not looking for anything particular I turned to Doctrine and Covenants 6:32: “Verily, verily, I say unto you, as I said unto my disciples, where two or three are gathered together in my name, as touching one thing, behold, there will I be in the midst of them—even so am I in the midst of you.”
Throughout the next hour, I felt the Spirit help us communicate. We laughed at my many mistakes, and she was patient with me as I tried to understand and answer her questions. When the temple trip was over, it was hard to say good-bye. We knew we had shared a small miracle.

“President Herman A. Volz, this is your life!” That’s how the Young Women of the Sheboygan Branch, Midland Michigan Stake, surprised their branch president one evening at an activity honoring his service to the branch. The program included reading President Volz’s life history (written and read by his wife Gloria), a tribute by his son Richard, and a recitation of his favorite scripture (Mosiah 2:17) by his daughter Sara. Since it was the Sheboygan Branch’s sixth anniversary, the branch history was also read. Church members as well as nonmembers who are friends of President Volz were invited, and a member of the stake presidency and his wife also attended.

One of my students wrote of her service to 93-year-old Alma Nielson:

Alma lives alone, is 93 years old, and is nearly . . . blind. His wife died just one year ago, and his son, his nearest relative, is 65 years old and lives in Salt Lake. . . . A month ago I started taking a tape recorder with me [on my daily] visits with Alma and recording the stories he told me, without him knowing. I had hoped to transcribe the tapes in time to present them to him in book form for Christmas, with copies for his grandchildren. As the semester drew to a close, I realized that the time required to prepare the history before Christmas was much greater than the time I had available, since I work in addition to going to school. This final provided a way not only for me to complete the work but to solicit the help of my group members in making the book look good and flow well. . . . [We] took the book over to Alma yesterday and read it to him. He cried. He is very excited to be able to pass these stories on to his grandchildren.

Now, as already indicated, I am going to be somewhat autobiographical today. I mention first of all a small episode involving a large principle. The principle is the need for us to avoid the rush to judgment. This episode occurred just after I returned home from World War II. During months overseas while in the service, I had saved money to go on a mission. This was part of keeping my promise to the Lord made back in May of 1945, to which I will refer later. Back then I naïvely and foolishly thought I could pay God back, and of course I am more and more in His debt with the passing of time.

In any event, when I was discharged, I wanted to go on a mission right away. But our bishop did not call me at once. Finally, somewhat audaciously, I went to his home one night and told him I wanted to go on a mission. I had the money, and I didn’t want to wait. Only then did he proceed to process the call. I impatiently wondered back then why he seemed so slow. Only decades later did I learn from the good man who was then his ward clerk that my bishop had felt, since I had been overseas for quite a while, I shouldn’t be rushed into the mission field.

Oh, how quick we are sometimes to judge with so little data! And these experiences are in each of our lives, and they are illustrative of large issues, if we will but learn from them. I am so grateful to that ward clerk who, at least 40 years later, sent me a note one day saying he’d heard I’d mentioned this tapping on the bishop’s door at night, and he thought I ought to know the bishop’s feelings. The rush to judgment continues to be the reflex of the natural man and the natural woman if we do not guard against it carefully.

Elder Gary G. Johnson recalled an experience that happened in the college town of Mankato, a community nestled in farmland on the banks of the Minnesota River.

“We baptized a woman, Gayle Von Ohlen, and her 12-year-old son, John Chambard. As a baptism present, we gave him a subscription to the New Era, and he really liked it. He was impressed with the way it was written, and I think he was amazed that there was so much about spiritual matters in a teenage magazine. His mother was impressed too. The New Era helps kids feel like they’re a part of something.”

Concerned because Farmington’s boys were often getting into mischief, Aurelia asked Eliza R. Snow, the sister of Lorenzo Snow, if there should not be an organization to help little boys grow into good men. Sister Snow relayed the suggestion to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, the governing body of the Church following the death of Brigham Young. John Taylor, the President of the Quorum, gave his approval, and Sister Rogers was called upon to organize and serve as the president of the first Primary in the Church. She wisely decided that girls should also be part of the organization, and the first Primary was held in Farmington Ward on August 25, 1878.

“We’re number one!” shouted the cheerleader at a high school football game. I admired her straight teeth and perfect smile. I watched as she laughed and talked to the girls and flirted with the boys.

“It must be glorious to be her,” I thought, reflecting on my own loneliness. My father’s job required us to move every three to five years, so it was hard for my sister and me to form lasting friendships.

The cheerleader had a reputation for dressing immodestly and going to drinking parties. Watching her, I began to ache for the popularity that I thought she represented. I wanted friends so badly that for one fleeting moment I wondered if I should lower my standards to become like her.

While my sister and I drove home, I was wallowing in self-pity, and I prayed in my heart to Heavenly Father. I asked Him to tell me the secret that would take away my loneliness and insecurity. Although I wasn’t a Church member at this time, I had a strong faith in God.

Immediately came into my mind the idea, “Stop thinking about yourself.”

“That’s the secret?” I thought disappointedly. “How can that help me to become popular?”

Later that week, I read about charity in 1 Corinthians 13. It helped me understand that Heavenly Father was trying to teach me to have charity toward others rather than focus on how they were treating me. I took the characteristics of charity listed there and put them to work. When I did this, I found that my whole school experience changed. Here are some of the valuable things I learned.

I tried to become more patient with people at school. One boy teased me during gym class, but I tried to meet his ill will with kindness and smiles. Eventually he stopped teasing me. By the end of the year, we became good friends.

I had always admired a girl in my class who was friendly to everyone, no matter how popular or unpopular they were. I began to follow her example and look for opportunities to show kindness to others.

My sister and I were jealous of the talents of a basketball player in our school, and we used to make cutting remarks about her. I decided to start rejoicing in her victories instead. I also began to develop my own talents. When I did these things, I lost my bitter burden, and I was much happier.

I sometimes thought I was better than some people because I lived higher moral standards. When I thought about the Savior, who was meek and loved all people, I decided to change my attitude. As I tried to be humble and kind, people began to make the effort to be my friend.

I loved the Lord and had high moral standards. I decided that compromising these standards would make me unhappy.

Once, a teacher made a comment that hurt my feelings. Rather than reacting, I asked her if she was having a hard day. She admitted that she was and then apologized. Those comments had come from her personal problems and had nothing to do with me.

One thing my Latter-day Saint friends taught me was that gossiping and spreading lies is evil. I tried to avoid gossip and changed the subject whenever someone started to say unkind things.

I began to see the good in people and be optimistic. When I made this attitude change, people began to feel uplifted around me. This made them want to associate with me more often.

When my sister became seriously ill and lost her ability to walk normally, many of her friends abandoned her because she walked funny. I saw her heartbreak, and I realized the importance of sticking with people through tough times.

When I practiced charity in my relationships, I developed many true and lasting friendships. My loneliness disappeared, and I realized popularity was nothing compared to the real treasure of friendship and respect that comes from living gospel principles.

I am thankful for a Father in Heaven who took the time to teach a sophomore in high school the secret of gaining friendships that would last.

Sarah sat in her room playing with her dolls. She was changing them into their best clothes for a Christmas party she was hosting. Everyone was invited: Mr. Snuggles, the teddy bear; Chocolate and Caramel, the raccoon twins; Lady Juniper, the ladybug; and many of their friends.
As Sarah began to introduce her guests to each other, Mom walked into the room.
“Sarah, Dad and I were talking about what service we could do this Christmas. We thought we could give gifts to the children’s home down the road.”
“OK,” Sarah said.
“We were wondering if you would like to donate some of your toys,” Mom said. “I know that it would mean a lot to the children. They probably won’t be getting many new toys for Christmas.”
“But I don’t want to get rid of my toys! I love them all!” Sarah said.
“What about this stuffed cow?” Mom asked.
“Not Moo-Moo!”
“I’ve never seen you play with her. Are you sure you want to keep her?”
“What if I decide I want to play with her after I give her away? Then I won’t have her anymore!” Sarah said.
“The purpose of serving is to think about the needs of others before yourself,” Mom said. “When you make a sacrifice to help someone else, you are becoming more like Jesus Christ.”
“I am?” Sarah asked. “How?”
“What did Jesus do when He was on the earth?”
“He helped people.”
“Right! He spent His life serving others,” Mom said.
“So if I give away something important to me to help others, I am being like Jesus?” Sarah asked.
“Exactly,” Mom said.
Sarah knew Mom was right, but she was still a little nervous about giving up Moo-Moo.
That weekend, Sarah and Mom and Dad went to the children’s home with a big bag of gifts. As the children opened their presents, their smiles grew bigger and bigger.
One little girl picked up a box wrapped in shiny red paper. Sarah watched as the girl carefully unwrapped the present. Inside the box was the stuffed cow.
“Her name is Moo-Moo,” Sarah said to the girl. “And she loves parties.”
A smile spread across the face of the little girl. She hugged Moo-Moo tight and looked up at Sarah. “Thank you,” she said. “I’ve never had my own stuffed animal before.” The girl skipped away with her new toy.
Sarah felt happy. She imagined Jesus must have felt happy too when He helped people.
“I want to come back next Christmas,” Sarah said as she and her parents left the children’s home. “I think I have more toys I can give away next year.”

Our daughter Mindy has become an expert at seeing people separate from their worldly overlay. She sees the good in a person where no one else seems able to recognize it. We were moved when she wrote home from Argentina early in her mission, “What an interesting eye-opener to realize, as a missionary, that the people you teach are better than you are”—a far cry from the innocent young elder who served with us in New England who hesitated to teach a family because the father smoked. We must learn to separate people from their failings.

Tony Williams, 13, is the only LDS student in his junior high school, so he took advantage of the situation. During the school’s social science fair he set up a display telling the residents of Kennett, Missouri, about the Church, and he walked away with first prize.
Tony’s display included three panels. One part told of the apostasy and restoration while another explained the Church’s First Presidency, Council of the Twelve, Articles of Faith, and the standard works. Details of the pioneer trek from Nauvoo to Salt Lake City was on another panel.
After winning first place in his school’s fair, Tony’s display won third place in the district social science fair held at Cape Girardeau, Missouri.
Active in the Hayti Ward (Memphis, Tennessee), Tony serves on the bishop’s youth committee and is president of his deacons quorum.

We had completed the assignment given us by President David O. McKay to check on a site claimed to be that of the ancient city of Zarahemla.
We had located the suggested site by following the description given in a document that President McKay sent with us. All four of us agreed that this particular site was altogether too small to support a city as large as Zarahemla. Furthermore, Zarahemla had fields where crops were grown, as well as pasture lands on either side of the city for the Nephite’s flocks. According to the description given in the Book of Mormon, Zarahemla seemed to have been the largest Nephite city in ancient America.
After our return to the hotel, I became quite ill during the night. The next morning my traveling companions came to my bedroom to see why I had not come to breakfast. I told them I was too ill to get out of bed. They said that they would eat breakfast and then go down to the airstrip and look at the plane to see that everything was all right.
They soon returned and informed me that clouds had settled down on the airstrip and on Tuxtla so heavily that we would not be able to get out. We were fogged in, and they had been informed that the airstrip would probably be fogged in for a considerable time because the rainy season was beginning. They asked me what should be done.
After thinking for a few moments I was impressed by the Holy Spirit to say, “Give me a blessing and we will fly out today.” At first they replied, “President Hunter, you are too ill to fly.” But I insisted on being blessed. President Strong anointed and his son Bert sealed the anointing and gave me a blessing. I immediately got up out of bed, went in and ate breakfast, and felt completely healed.
We took our luggage and went down to the airstrip. Shortly after, the clouds lifted sufficiently for us to fly out. We heard later from the archaeological workman that several days passed before the fog and clouds lifted again. Therefore, that particular day was our time to fly out of Tuxtla.
On the way home President Strong said, “President Hunter, write an article for the Church magazines on this marvelous experience we have had. You were directed by the Holy Spirit as strongly as Wilford Woodruff was when he was told to get out of bed and move the wagon in the night. He followed the promptings of the Holy Spirit and moved the wagon just before a strong turbulence came along and pulled up the tree exactly where his wagon had been standing. He and his companion would have been killed if he hadn’t followed the promptings of the Holy Spirit. We have had a similar experience. By following the promptings of the Holy Spirit, our lives were saved.”
Youth of the Church, if you will try to keep all of God’s commandments, then through the promptings of the Holy Spirit you will be guided at critical times in your lives just as we were. Your lives may also be saved by the guidance of the Holy Spirit and by the power of the Lord.

As a Relief Society president in São Paulo, Brazil, Elizabeth Contieri Kemeny felt impressed to assign herself to visit a shy, pregnant sister who attended church alone as her husband was often away on business. The ward Relief Society had just participated in a stake project to make baby layettes consisting of blankets, clothing, and other supplies for infants. The layettes were supposed to be delivered to the stake on a particular Sunday morning. On that day Sister Kemeny awoke at 6:00 A.M. with a strong impression she should deliver the layettes to the home of this sister, rather than to the stake.
Taking along her counselor and the bishop, Sister Kemeny arrived at this sister’s apartment only to learn that she had already gone to the hospital in labor. Pressing on to the hospital, they found her holding her new baby in her arms, with tears streaming down her own cheeks. She had been praying that Heavenly Father would send somebody to help her. Her husband was out of town, and she had nothing—not a blanket to wrap the baby in nor money for a bus ride home.
That afternoon at the stake meeting this ward had no layettes to contribute. They had been given to bless a sister both temporally and spiritually—all because a visiting teacher had prayed and listened to the promptings of the Spirit.

Maron shoved her feet into her Sunday shoes and sat down to do up the buckles. She loved Primary, and every week she carefully brushed her long blond hair and put on her best dress. Today she was all ready to go except for her shoes. She knew by how tight they felt that when she stood up to walk, her toes were really going to be pinched. Why did her feet have to keep growing? In the last couple of months, her shoes had been getting tighter and tighter. She didn’t know how much longer she could keep wearing them.
Usually her mother took her to buy new shoes when she outgrew a pair. But right now Maron’s father didn’t have a steady job. The company he worked for had closed three months ago, and he had been looking for a new job ever since. Every day Maron prayed that her father would find a good job.
She knew that her parents were worried about money. Dad had been doing small jobs like delivering pizzas for the pizzeria and working at the gas station on the corner whenever the owner could use him. They barely had enough money to pay the bills. Her parents talked about it sometimes at night, when they thought that she was asleep.
Last week Mother had taken Maron and her little sister, Christa, to a thrift store to look for clothes. They had found two pairs of pants for Maron and a pair of pants and a T-shirt for Christa. While Mother was searching through the piles of clothes, Maron had gone to look at shoes. She was very disappointed because there was really nothing suitable to buy.
I just can’t tell Mother how tight my shoes are, she decided. I’m sure she’ll tell me to wear my tennis shoes. Maron didn’t want to wear them to Primary. They were limp and gray from being washed so often. And one had a hole in it just above the big toe. It just wouldn’t feel right to wear shoes like that to Primary. Maybe when you were only four like Christa, no one noticed what you wore, but when you were nine, Maron was sure, everyone did.
Maron stood up and winced. She walked carefully around her room. It was going to be hard to walk without limping, but she was sure that she could do it if she concentrated very hard.
During Primary it was difficult for Maron to think about anything but how much her feet hurt, especially the right one. She held her breath when Sharing Time was over. Sometimes they had singing time in the same room. She hoped they would today. Then she wouldn’t have to walk to the other side of the meetinghouse. Unfortunately, this Sunday she was disappointed. Usually she enjoyed the walk after so much sitting, but this week every step was painful and it was all she could do not to sit down in the hallway and take off her shoes.
After Primary, her right toe hurt so much that she just had to limp. As the family all climbed out of the car and walked into the house, her mother watched her with concern. “Maron, what’s the matter, honey? Is your foot hurting you?” she asked.
“A little bit,” said Maron, trying to sound as if it were no big deal.
“Sit down,” ordered Mother. She leaned down and unbuckled Maron’s shoe. She pulled it off carefully. They were both dismayed to see that the end of her left stocking was wet with blood. Mother helped her into the bathroom and lifted her up onto the counter. She gently pulled off the socks and dropped them into the sink. Then she carefully washed and bandaged Maron’s toe.
Later, after Maron had changed out of her Sunday dress, she limped into the kitchen, where Mother was preparing dinner.
“Maron, honey,” said Mother, “you should have told me that your shoes were too small.”
“But I don’t have anything else except my tennis shoes and …” Maron stopped talking as tears started to fill her eyes.
“That’s a problem, all right,” Mother said.
“Mom,” said Maron, “we had a lesson on tithing in Primary. Sister Richards said that if we pay our tithing, Heavenly Father will bless us. We all pay our tithing, and I’ve been praying every day for Dad to get a job. If he had a good job, you could buy a new pair of shoes for me. Why doesn’t Heavenly Father listen?” asked Maron.
“Oh, Maron, Heavenly Father always listens,” said Mother. “Sometimes, when He doesn’t answer as fast as we think He should, it seems like He isn’t listening. We just need to remember that Heavenly Father knows what we need, and He loves us very much. Don’t worry. When the time is right, Daddy will find a good job. We need to be patient and have faith. In the meantime, have you prayed about the problem of your shoes?”
“No. Do you think it would help?”
“Well, Heavenly Father knows what kind of help we need most, so why don’t we ask Him to help with this problem?”
Later, when Maron knelt with her father and mother and Christa for family prayer, she explained her problem about the shoes and asked Heavenly Father to please help her to find some shoes to wear to Primary. She asked again in her prayers before she went to bed, and in the morning after she got out of bed. She prayed every day that week for help in finding some shoes.
By Saturday she was starting to worry. In the morning she would be going to Primary, and she still had no shoes. That afternoon, Maron and her mother made another trip to the thrift store, hoping that someone had brought in a pair of shoes that would fit her. But there were none.
When they got home, Maron went straight to her room and closed the door. She knelt down beside her bed and pleaded with Heavenly Father to please help her find some shoes to wear to Primary. When she finished, she felt a warm feeling inside and knew that everything was going to be all right, although she didn’t understand how.
Just after supper, while Maron was wiping dishes, the doorbell rang. It was their neighbor, Sister Leavitt. She was carrying a large cardboard box. “I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday night,” she said apologetically. “I don’t know if you can use any of these things, but my sister asked me if I knew anyone who might use them, and I thought of Maron. Her little girl is just older than Maron and has outgrown them.”
“May I look, please?” asked Maron.
Sister Leavitt set down the box, and Maron opened it excitedly. Right on top, just as she knew there would be, was a pair of beautiful black patent leather Sunday shoes in just the right size.

In Barranquilla, Roberto and Fabiola Juliao gather their family in their home. Grandchildren settle on parents’ and grandparents’ laps as Brother and Sister Juliao reminisce about their baptisms in 1975, their temple sealing in 1986, and other experiences. She has served in all of the auxiliaries and is currently the ward Primary president. He tells of serving in many priesthood callings and shows his grandchildren a precious memento—the shovel he used to help break ground for the Bogotá temple.
One son, Cristian, did not accept baptism until he and his wife were expecting their first child. Suddenly they were motivated to learn about the gospel. They were baptized and later sealed in the temple. At one time, Cristian and his father served together as counselors to the mission president. “I found myself wanting to become just like my father,” he says. “I realized he has taught me the most important principles in life. I hope to pass this inheritance on to my own children.”

The blessings of tithing come in many ways. In 1998 I accompanied then-Elder Henry B. Eyring to a large Church meeting in the Utah area now known as Silicon Slopes, a community of great innovation in technology. It was a time of growing prosperity, and Elder Eyring cautioned the Saints about comparing what they had with others and wanting more. I will always remember his promise that as they paid an honest tithe, their desire for more material possessions would diminish. Within two years, the technology bubble burst. Many lost their jobs, and companies struggled during this time of financial adjustment. Those who followed the counsel of Elder Eyring were blessed.

On another occasion I became aware that one of our outstanding seniors had failed to take one of the basic requirements in English. I contacted his department head and indicated that he would have to make up this deficiency. The next day the student contacted me and asked me to use my influence to have that requirement waived, using as justification the fact that his overall scholastic performance had been outstanding. After talking with him I was convinced that he was aware that he lacked three quarter hours of English credit but was trying to avoid the subject because he was weak in English. I said it was my responsibility to see that the requirements of the institution were met, and I could not waive the course requirement. He begged me to reconsider, but I was firm. I made arrangements for him to use a study room rather close to my office where he could study as long as he wanted without being disturbed. When he became convinced that he would have to take the class, he really buckled down, disciplined himself, and came through with flying colors.
After graduating from Utah State University he went to Iowa State University on a fellowship, and there he earned his Ph.D. degree. Some years later he returned to Utah State University on a visit. He contacted me and thanked me for being firm and insisting that he take that English class. He said it had been one of the most meaningful experiences in his life and had paid rich dividends later, both while he was a graduate student and during his subsequent employment. This experience truly illustrates how a difficult challenge can turn out to be a great blessing.

We of the Council of the Twelve have heard President Ezra Taft Benson describe how his father was called to fill a mission. He left behind his wife, his seven children, the farm, and all that he had. Did he lose anything? President Benson tells how his mother would gather the family around the kitchen table and there, by the flickering light of an oil-fueled lamp, read the letters from her husband. Several times during the reading there would be a pause to wipe away the tears which flowed freely. The result? Each of the children later served a mission.