Gospel Story Finder

My great-grandmother, Ursula Wise Derrick, was an unusual woman. According to our family record, she was born about 1779 at Keynsham, Somerset, England, a town just eight miles from Bristol. She gave birth to 11 children. The last two were twins, Elizabeth and Zachariah. Elizabeth apparently died soon after birth.
When Zach was 14 years of age, he began to serve his apprenticeship as a mechanic at the Bristol Iron Works. He completed this apprenticeship after seven years and then in 1836 began his apprenticeship as a foundryman.
This year was an important one for him. In addition to beginning his second apprenticeship, he married Mary Shephard. Soon after his marriage, his mother became seriously ill. Fearing death was near, she called Zach to her bedside and told him not to join himself seriously to any of the church organizations with which he was then familiar because none of them was the true church of Christ. She told him that when he heard of missionaries coming two by two, preaching in the halls and on street corners, teaching of a new prophet who had received revelation from God, he should join them, for their church would be the true church of God.
That same year of 1836, Ursula Wise Derrick died, one year before Heber C. Kimball and his missionary companions landed 200 miles north at Liverpool to bring the message of the Restoration to the British Isles. It was several years before the restored gospel was taught in Bristol.

Twelve-year-old Kenneth L. Bradford of Rocky River, Ohio, prevented a man from jumping off a bridge in a suicide attempt.
Kenneth was on an errand when his bicycle was stolen. While he was searching for the bicycle, a man asked him to call the police and tell them that someone was going to jump from the bridge. Ken did as he was asked, and then he returned to the bridge. There he saw the man straddling a fence on top of the bridge. Ken grabbed his foot and held on until the police arrived. “He was kicking and yelling at me to let go,” said Kenneth. “He just told me to go away. He was real mad because he wanted to jump over.”

When Peter Lauritzen of Eugene, Oregon, had to choose between attending early morning seminary or high school swim team practice, which met each morning at 6 A.M., he had to get up early to find a solution. In fact, he got up at 4:30 AM, each weekday so he could attend his own swim practice at 5 A.M. (with his coach’s approval), then make it to seminary. He was soon joined by three other seminary goers, Karen and Gary Orth, and DeWayne Colombe.
Karen and Peter were soon setting swim records for their high school, and doing well at state meets, too.
“I seem to be wider awake during the day than when I didn’t get up early,” said Pete. “It wasn’t that much of a decision really. Church comes first and then swimming.”

The last speaker, an elderly gentleman from another stake, was introduced.
“May I share a short Christmas story with you?” he began. “It’s a true one. In fact, it involves someone I know in my ward across town. I am the home teacher of a young family who has suffered much these last few months. The father lost his job, and their baby has been terribly ill. Although the bishop worked with the family and ward members helped, too, it still wasn’t enough. The parents used all their savings just to keep their baby alive. I had gone to their home this past week with baked goods from my wife, hoping to help them through their holidays.
“As I talked with the father, he told me how they had gathered as a family to discuss a problem. It was tithing settlement last Sunday. They had to decide whether to pay tithing or to use their tithing money for groceries. That good father said that he told his children that they must first obey Heavenly Father. They decided to pay their tithing.
“How I worried about them! On Christmas morning, I hurried to their home. I was amazed at what I found! The children were playing with toys, and I could smell food cooking in the kitchen!
“As I entered, the children excitedly told me about their Christmas Eve. Santa had come early; he had left many presents.
“The mother then explained how they had gathered the papers and boxes after opening all their gifts on Christmas Eve. She had thrown most of the papers into the fireplace. As she crawled into bed, she worried about not having enough money to buy groceries. But she fell asleep knowing they had been given enough food for Christmas Day.
“Early the next morning, she noticed a red envelope on the floor.
“With tears in her eyes, she told me that when she opened it, there was money inside—and a note, which read: ‘Merry Christmas! You don’t know us. We don’t know you. We want you to have these gifts so you can celebrate with us the birth of our Savior.’”
The elderly man was so full of emotion that he could hardly finish his talk. “I guess we’ll never know who delivered those gifts on Christmas Eve, but they must be very special people who know what Christmas is all about.”

“What do you want to play next?” Tyler asked Jonathan. “I don’t know. What other toys do you have?” Even though they were best friends in the second grade, this was the first time Jonathan had come over to play at Tyler’s house.
“Let’s see,” Tyler said. “We already jumped on the trampoline. We played digging for dinosaurs. We put the space shuttle set together three times. Those are all my favorites.”
“Do you have any new games?” Jonathan asked.
“No, but I just had an idea. I have something to show you that I bet you’ve never seen.” Jonathan followed Tyler into the family room. Tyler got out an envelope and a big square board covered with fuzzy flannel.
“Look at this,” Tyler said. He turned the envelope upside down and a bunch of pictures fell out onto the floor. “I’ve been practicing my lesson for family home evening tonight. I’m going to tell the story of Joseph Smith just like the missionaries do. Want to hear it?”
“Hold on,” Jonathan said. “What’s family home evening, and who’s Joseph Smith?”
“Family home evening is when our family gets together every Monday night. We do lessons, play games, sing songs, and stuff like that. And we always have treats at the end. Anyway, it’s my turn to give the lesson. It’s all about Joseph Smith. Want to hear it?”
Jonathan shrugged. “OK.”
“Good. It starts off when Joseph was a teenager.” Tyler put a picture on the flannel board of a boy dressed in old-fashioned clothes. “He wanted to know which church was true. He was reading in the Bible where it says that if you have a question, you should ask God. Joseph Smith decided to pray and ask God which church he should join.”
“Is this a Bible story?” Jonathan asked.
“Well, not really.” Tyler took the boy’s picture off the flannel board and put on a picture of some trees. Then he got out another picture of the boy, only this time the boy was kneeling. “This is the good part. Joseph Smith went into the woods where he could be alone to pray. When he prayed, he asked God his question about which church was true.”
Tyler put another picture above the Joseph picture on the flannel board. This one showed Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ, all dressed in white. “God and Jesus came down and told Joseph Smith not to join any of the churches. They told him that the true church was not on the earth. Later, when Joseph Smith was older, he was able to help bring the true Church back to the earth. He was a true prophet.”
Tyler stopped and looked at Jonathan. Jonathan was staring at the pictures but not saying much. Finally Tyler asked, “What do you think?”
“Well, I don’t know,” Jonathan said. “The only prophets I’ve ever heard about are from Bible stories. Are you sure Joseph Smith was a prophet?”
“Sure, I’m sure.”
“But how do you know? I mean, if it’s not in the Bible, how do you know?”
Tyler hesitated. He knew that Joseph Smith was a prophet, but how could he explain it to Jonathan? “I just know,” he said.
Jonathan still had a frown on his face, and Tyler had a feeling that there was something else he should say. Then he knew what it was. “I know because I have a testimony.”
“Oh,” was all Jonathan said.
Tyler began putting the pictures back into the envelope.
Just then, Tyler’s mom poked her head around the corner. “How about a snack?” she said. “There are cookies in the kitchen.”
Tyler and Jonathan told each other jokes while they licked the frosting from the middle of their cookies. By the time they munched down the chocolate outside parts of the cookies, Jonathan’s mom had come to pick him up. He went outside to look for his shoes next to the trampoline. Tyler went with him.
While Jonathan was tying his shoes, he looked up at Tyler. “You know that story you told me? It was good. I mean, it’s good about your testimony and all.”
Before Tyler could answer, Jonathan had jumped up and was running through the gate out to the car. “See you tomorrow!” he called over his shoulder.
“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Tyler called back.

There was a point in my life when I was so emotionally hurt that it affected every other aspect of my life. I couldn’t focus on classes or homework, my relationship with my roommates was strained, and I was constantly on the verge of tears. More than anything, I was having a hard time forgiving the person who had caused me hurt in the first place—and even madder that I was having a hard time forgiving.
Finally, I decided I was done being sad and angry. I no longer wanted to carry that burden. I pleaded with Heavenly Father to help me forgive. Before I knew it, the pain was bearable. It wasn’t gone, but I could bear it. Through this experience I learned that the Savior’s Atonement does not just allow us to repent; it also helps us heal. When I approached Heavenly Father with my burdens, in humility and with a sincere heart, He helped me carry the hurt, pain, and heartache I held.
Dani Lauricella, California, USA

Amber Martin and Kortney Kline are closer to earning their Young Women Personal Progress Award after organizing all the youth in the Valley Forge Pennsylvania Stake to donate their reading books to an inner-city school in Philadelphia. A stake youth dance was held and the “admission fee” was to bring some books. Amber and Kortney managed to collect over 500 books. These two young women said it was an awesome experience to give youth in their stake an opportunity to donate books to students in need.

Throughout the years, I have known countless individuals who have been particularly faithful and obedient. I have been blessed and inspired by them. May I share with you an account of two such individuals.
Walter Krause was a steadfast member of the Church who, with his family, lived in what became known as East Germany following the Second World War. Despite the hardships he faced because of the lack of freedom in that area of the world at the time, Brother Krause was a man who loved and served the Lord. He faithfully and conscientiously fulfilled each assignment given to him.
The other man, Johann Denndorfer, a native of Hungary, was converted to the Church in Germany and was baptized there in 1911 at the age of 17. Not too long afterward he returned to Hungary. Following the Second World War, he found himself virtually a prisoner in his native land, in the city of Debrecen. Freedom had also been taken from the people of Hungary.
Brother Walter Krause, who did not know Brother Denndorfer, received the assignment to be his home teacher and to visit him on a regular basis. Brother Krause called his home teaching companion and said to him, “We have received an assignment to visit Brother Johann Denndorfer. Would you be available to go with me this week to see him and give him a gospel message?” And then he added, “Brother Denndorfer lives in Hungary.”
His startled companion asked, “When will we leave?”
“Tomorrow,” came the reply from Brother Krause.
“When will we return home?” asked the companion.
Brother Krause responded, “Oh, in about a week—if we get back.”
Away the two home teaching companions went to visit Brother Denndorfer, traveling by train and bus from the northeastern area of Germany to Debrecen, Hungary—a substantial journey. Brother Denndorfer had not had home teachers since before the war. Now, when he saw these servants of the Lord, he was overwhelmed with gratitude that they had come. At first he declined to shake hands with them. Rather, he went to his bedroom and took from a small cabinet a box containing his tithing that he had saved for years. He presented the tithing to his home teachers and said, “Now I am current with the Lord. Now I feel worthy to shake the hands of servants of the Lord!” Brother Krause told me later that he had been touched beyond words to think that this faithful brother, who had no contact with the Church for many years, had obediently and consistently taken from his meager earnings 10 percent with which to pay his tithing. He had saved it not knowing when or if he might have the privilege of paying it.
Brother Walter Krause passed away nine years ago at the age of 94. He served faithfully and obediently throughout his life and was an inspiration to me and to all who knew him. When asked to fulfill assignments, he never questioned, he never murmured, and he never made excuses.

One year the young women in my ward participated in an interesting experiment related to dressing modestly. Here’s an account of one young woman who learned about this gospel principle and applied it to her life.
Anna Larsen* was excited that her turn to shop for clothes had finally come. Sister Jensen, her Laurel adviser, had taken each girl in the class shopping to learn a modesty lesson. Anna wasn’t sure what to expect.
When they arrived at the store, Sister Jensen asked Anna to pick out three outfits. As they walked to the dressing room, Sister Jensen said, “After you’ve put on an outfit, come out. Be prepared to have your eyes opened.”
Intrigued by her leader’s directions, Anna put on the sleeveless button-down shirt and hip-hugging skirt. When she walked out, Sister Jensen motioned her to the mirrors. “Now we’re going to play a game.”
“I doubt the clerks would be happy with me playing in their clothes before I’ve bought them,” Anna said.
Sister Jensen laughed and shook her head. “We’re going to play ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes.’”
Anna looked skeptical.
“I’m serious,” Sister Jensen said. “Let’s start with your head.”
Anna put her hands on her head and saw her shirt pull up, baring her skin. “Oops,” she gasped, tugging it back down.
Sister Jensen put Anna’s hands back up. “That’s part of the game. You see how much your shirt lifts up? Now try shoulders,” Sister Jensen said.
When Anna dropped her hands to her shoulders she noticed even more showing inside the armholes. She also saw the shirt straining at the buttons.
“Now bend over and touch your knees and toes,” Sister Jensen advised.
Between her shirt and skirt was a two-inch gap. “Wow,” Anna said.
“I know,” Sister Jensen said. “Now, go try on the next outfit.”
After repeating the game twice more, Anna’s mood dimmed. None of her outfits had completely passed the “Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes” test.
“Don’t worry,” Sister Jensen said. “There’s hope. You just have to know how to put things together.” For the next hour Sister Jensen showed Anna how to layer different clothes to make them modest and stylish. She then challenged Anna to look through her closet and see if any changes needed to be made.
Later that night Anna looked at the mess on her bed. It had been overwhelming trying everything on to see what was modest or immodest. With a sigh she picked up one particular pile and carried it to her mom.
“Mom, I was wondering if I could donate these clothes.”
“Sure, honey. Why?” her mom replied.
Anna smiled. “Have you ever played ‘Head, Shoulders, Knees, and Toes’?”

A couple I know about married later in life; the wife had been married before, but it was the husband’s first marriage. After several months of marital bliss, a serious disagreement erupted that so hurt the husband emotionally that he could not function at his daily tasks.
As he reeled from the impact of this confrontation, he stopped to analyze the problem and realized that at least a part of the problem had been his. He went to his bride and stammered awkwardly several times, “I’m sorry, Honey.” The wife burst into tears, confessing that much of the problem was hers and asked forgiveness. As they held each other, she confessed that in her experience those words of apology had not been used before, and she now knew that any of their future problems could be solved. She felt secure because she knew they both could say, “I’m sorry;” “I forgive.”

Patrick’s older brother, Tom, returned from the California Ventura Mission in August 2009. He feels that Preach My Gospel is one of the best tools for missionary work. Although Tom appreciated what the book helped him do as a missionary, he notes that nearly all of the prophetic statements on missionary work appearing on pages 12–13 of Preach My Gospel talk about the role of members in sharing the gospel. He says that’s indicative of how much missionary work should be done by members and not just by full-time missionaries.
“As I was closing in on the end of my mission,” he recalls, “I was studying about the responsibilities of missionaries and why we—missionaries and members—are given this work to do. I read Moses 1:39 and thought about missionary work from Heavenly Father’s point of view. All He wants is for His children to return to Him. What we’ve been charged with doing, I realized, is helping our Father accomplish His work.
“Now as a member missionary, I know that with regular scripture study (including study of Preach My Gospel), prayer, and seeking the Spirit, we can succeed in any endeavor. And if we let the gospel be at the center of our lives and work to better our understanding of it, it will become easier to share and testify.”

Sissy was crying again. She didn’t want to cry, but the warm, wet tears kept sliding down her cheeks. Ever since Pa had died last winter, she found herself crying almost every time she was alone.
Today she had run home from the little pioneer church and climbed into the hayloft. It was the Sunday before Easter, and her Primary lesson had been about the Resurrection. Sister Nelson had reminded the class that when people we love die, we can be comforted knowing that they will live again and that we can be with them at some future time. Sissy knew that Sister Nelson was speaking especially to her and was trying to be kind, but her teacher just didn’t understand! What good is it to think about resurrection when I need Pa right now? she thought.
Sissy had been very close to her father. Pa had always said that she was special. He called her his “own little angel right from heaven.” The tears rolled down her cheeks, and she cried, “Oh, Pa, why did you have to die? How can I ever be happy again?”
Her thoughts were interrupted by her brother Joe’s husky voice calling her from the barn door. “Sissy! Sissy, are you in here?”
“I’m coming, Joe,” Sissy said slowly as she dried her tears and began to climb down.
Joe stood at the bottom of the ladder; he lifted her off the rungs, swung her around, and gently set her down. “What’s the matter, Sis?” he asked as he bent his tall frame over and looked into her reddened eyes. “Has it been raining in the hayloft again?”
Sissy gave him a little smile and held his hand as they left the barn. She loved Joe. He was kind and gentle, like Pa, and Sissy knew he understood her sorrow and loneliness. She wondered if he still missed Pa too. She hadn’t thought about that before. Joe always seemed so strong and sure of everything.
“Joe,” Sissy said, stopping suddenly, “what do you do when you feel sad and lonely without Pa around?”
Joe walked slowly over to the cottonwood tree and sat down. Sissy sat down beside him. He was quiet for a moment and seemed to be studying the daffodils that Pa and Sissy had planted last spring. Then he looked up into Sissy’s eyes and spoke softly. “Missing Pa is natural and will probably last all our lives, Sissy. But when I’m sad, I try to get busy doing something that I know would make Pa happy. You see, I know that someday I’m going to see Pa again, and I want to be the kind of man he always wanted me to grow up to be. Somehow that seems to take my mind off my sad thoughts and put it on the happy thoughts of how proud I can make Pa when I see him again.”
Sissy thought about Joe’s words as he got up and headed toward the woodpile. She knew that Pa would be sad to think that the only thing she did when she thought of him was cry. Maybe if she tried Joe’s plan, it would work for her too. She wrinkled her forehead as she tried to think of something to do that would make Pa happy and proud of her.
In a minute Sissy was on her feet, running to catch up with Joe. “Joe,” she asked, filling her arms with kindling, “do you think we could take some daffodils over to Sister Harding this afternoon? I noticed she wasn’t at church today, so maybe she would like a little visit. We could take over some of those good molasses cookies too!”
Joe gave her a quick smile and a gentle squeeze and nodded his head. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time,” he said.
Later, as Sissy gathered the flowers, she found herself thinking about Pa and smiling for the first time in a long while. She could almost see Pa smiling too!

Years ago, my wife and I drove to visit the Idaho Falls Idaho Temple. Our four young sons stayed home with a babysitter.
As we got ready to go home, one of the temple workers told us that the Teton Dam in eastern Idaho had collapsed! Much of our city was underwater.
My wife and I knelt and prayed to Heavenly Father for the safety of our children and the thousands of people affected by the flood. These words came clearly to my heart and mind: “Whatever the outcome, all will be well because of the temple.” We were grateful later to learn that our boys were safe.

Early in our married life, when Sister Nelson and I lived in Minneapolis, we decided to enjoy a free afternoon with our two-year-old daughter. We went to one of Minnesota’s many beautiful lakes and rented a small boat. After rowing far from shore, we stopped to relax and enjoy the tranquil scene. Suddenly our little toddler lifted one leg out of the boat and started to go overboard, exclaiming, “Time to get out, Daddy!”
Quickly we caught her and explained: “No, dear, it isn’t time to get out; we must stay in the boat until it brings us safely back to land.” We had a hard time convincing her that leaving the boat early would lead to disaster.

Also during a family home evening, Feleti thanked his dad and his cousin for putting up metal over the windows to protect them during a hurricane. At least once a year in Pangai, there are very strong winds. When this happens, the family prays together to be protected. In one hurricane, Feleti’s family’s fences were blown down and some banana trees were ruined, but no one in the family was harmed.

When the Salt Lake Tabernacle was refurbished, its rededication took place during the Saturday afternoon session of April 2007 general conference. During that session, I had an experience that helped me to understand, in a small way, the love our Father in Heaven has for His Son, Jesus Christ.
Satomi, our second daughter, was serving in the Salt Lake Temple Square Mission. I knew that the missionaries serving on Temple Square would be in the Tabernacle for the afternoon session, seated on the main floor. I had a seat in the balcony for that session, and I hoped to see my daughter.
Right before the session began, a door opened and a group of missionaries came inside. I saw that my daughter and her companion were in the group. They were guided to their seats. Then Satomi looked toward the balcony. She saw me and said something. I could see tears in her eyes. Her companion put her arm around Satomi’s shoulder and comforted her.
I could not hear what my daughter said, but I understood the word: “Father.” That word made me think of Satomi’s childhood and her school days. It reminded me of her desire to serve God, to do His will, to serve Him as a missionary. Soon, I was crying too. Here was my daughter, and I was well pleased with her.
At that same moment, I thought of our Father’s feelings for His Son as Jesus Christ suffered in Gethsemane. Heavenly Father might have been moved to tears when He heard His Son’s prayer: “Abba, Father, all things are possible unto thee; take away this cup from me: nevertheless not what I will, but what thou wilt” (Mark 14:36).

When the Twelve called and ordained patriarchs, we shared experiences. We learned the Lord has a special interest in the patriarch, who holds a unique position in the Church.
I recall a conference where the patriarch was very old. While his ordination would remain in force, it was time that he be excused from giving blessings.
The stake president recommended a man with much leadership experience. However, I did not get the feeling that he should be the patriarch.
I knew that the First Presidency had said to stake presidents: “Because a man has filled with credit a presiding office and has attained a good age is no reason why he should or should not make a good patriarch; … [He should be one who has] developed within [him] the spirit of the patriarchs; in fact, this should be [his] leading characteristic, … [a man] of wisdom, possessed of the gift and spirit of blessing as well.”
As the evening meeting was about to begin, an older man came partway down the aisle and, unable to find a seat, went to the back of the chapel. He was not quite as well dressed as most of the others and obviously had spent much time out-of-doors.
I whispered to the stake president, “Who is that man?”
Sensing what was on my mind, he said, “Oh, I don’t think he could be our patriarch. He lives at the far edge of an outlying ward and has never held any leadership in a bishopric or high council.”
He was invited to give the opening prayer, and he had said but a few words when that confirmation came, as it does by revelation, “This is the patriarch.”
As I recall, he had six sons and one daughter. The youngest was then serving a mission, as had his older brothers, who were married and scattered about the country, all serving faithfully in the Church.
“What about your daughter?” I asked.
“Oh,” he said, “you have met her. She is the wife of a counselor in the stake presidency.”
I thought, “A patriarch, this man is a patriarch indeed!”
Before the general session, I met the aging patriarch in the foyer and said, “We are going to give you some help today.”
He said, “Oh, thank you! I would appreciate that very, very much.”
I said, “Let me give you the name of the new patriarch; then you and I and the stake president will be the only ones who know.”
When I named the man, he was startled and said, “Isn’t that interesting! I saw him among the people, coming into the building, and said to myself, ‘Wouldn’t he make a wonderful patriarch?’” It was an inspiring confirmation from the old patriarch.

I assumed that was all I’d be needed for in giving blessings before my mission, but the next day came the most unexpected phone call of my life. It was my mom, who had been trimming some old tree branches at my grandma’s house. She’d fallen, twisted her knee, and now could not get up because of the pain. Instantly I sprinted from my uncle’s house to go help. When I got there, I helped my mom up and we slowly walked inside my grandma’s home so that Mom could sit down.
Then came the request I will never forget: my mom asked me for a blessing. I, being only an 18-year-old teenager, but also being a newly ordained elder, could accept that call to serve for the second time that week. The blessing finished with everyone in tears and my mom feeling much better.

Early in my life, my parents struggled in their marriage, and it affected our family. When my mother’s friend became aware of this, she said to my mother, “How about you come and learn about my church?” My mother said that she and my father were not ready for that. Her friend said, “Then why don’t you let me take your children with me?” I was five at the time. My sister was eight.
This good friend took me and my sister to church for several years. I remember experiencing the joy of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. As my testimony grew, I wished and prayed for my parents to eventually learn about the gospel. When my sister decided to be baptized, my parents felt that they needed to find out a little bit about the Church.
As my parents began to learn about the truthfulness of the gospel, I saw a change of heart in them. They were humbled, and they came to embrace the gospel. A year after they joined the Church, I turned eight and my father baptized me. Heavenly Father had heard and answered my prayers.
Three years later, the Mexico City Mexico Temple was dedicated. I had the chance to go there with my family. We knelt at a beautiful altar to be sealed together forever, and we rejoiced in the promises and hope that Jesus Christ and His gospel bring. Years later, my wife and I were sealed in the same house of the Lord.

Many of you have participated in treks to experience and appreciate the dramatic rescue of the Willie and Martin handcart companies. I first became aware of this rescue when I was a teenager. My mother gave me a book written by Orson F. Whitney, who would later be an Apostle. Elder Whitney’s book acquainted me with the heroic effort directed by Brigham Young to rescue the handcart companies. They had been overtaken by winter storms on the high plains of Wyoming. Some had died and many others were on the verge of death. Brigham Young became aware of their plight, and at the October 1856 general conference he instructed the Saints to drop everything and rescue those stranded on the plains.
The response was dramatic. Elder Whitney reported, “Brave men by their heroism—for it was at the peril of their own lives that they thus braved the wintry storms on the plains—immortalized themselves, and won the undying gratitude of hundreds who were undoubtedly saved by their timely action from perishing.”
One reason my mother had given me the book was Elder Whitney had made special mention of my great-grandfather David Patten Kimball, who had participated in the rescue when he was 17 years old. All the rescuers battled deep snow and freezing temperatures during much of the rescue of the handcart companies. At great personal sacrifice, David and his associates helped carry many of the pioneers across the freezing, ice-filled Sweetwater.
This true account greatly impressed me. I wanted to prove my devotion to the Lord through some dramatic act. However, in a visit with my grandfather, he explained that when President Brigham Young sent his father, David, and the other young men on their rescue mission, President Young instructed them to do everything they possibly could to save the handcart companies, even at the peril of their own lives. Their acts of bravery were specifically to “follow the prophet Brigham Young” and by so doing express their faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. My grandfather told me that consistent, faithful dedication to the counsel of a prophet is the real lesson I should learn from my great-grandfather’s service. As heroic as it was for David and his associates to help rescue the pioneers, it is also valiant today to follow the counsel of our prophet.
An often-told account from the Old Testament illustrates this principle. Naaman, a prominent leader in Syria, was afflicted with leprosy. He became aware that the prophet Elisha in Israel might be able to heal him. Elisha sent word by a messenger that Naaman should wash himself in the river Jordan seven times. Initially, Naaman was upset with this counsel. However, his servants said, “If the prophet had bid thee do some great thing, wouldest thou not have done it?” Then Naaman followed the counsel of the prophet Elisha, and he was made clean.
Like Naaman, you young priesthood holders might aspire to “do some great thing” or participate in something dramatic like the handcart rescue. However, your resolve should be to follow the counsel of the prophet. The First Presidency has reaffirmed its commitment to increasing the worthiness of young people who are recommended for missionary service. Keeping yourselves free from the sins of the world and meeting the high standards for missionary service should be one goal. Preparing yourselves to proclaim the gospel and rescue some of Heavenly Father’s children spiritually would be both significant and heroic. You can meet this challenge.