Gospel Story Finder

By faith, Heber C. Kimball accepted a call to serve on a mission to England. On June 4, 1837, the Prophet Joseph Smith came to Heber C. Kimball who was seated in the temple in Kirkland, and whispering to him said, “Brother Heber, the Spirit of the Lord has whispered to me: Let my servant Heber go to England and proclaim my gospel, and open the door of salvation to that nation” (Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, 1945, p. 116). This would be the first time that the restored gospel would be preached overseas. It was a great undertaking. Heber C. Kimball’s response to the call was,

“O, Lord, I am a man of stammering tongue, and altogether unfit for such a work; how can I preach in that land, which is so famed throughout Christendom for learning, knowledge and piety; the nursery of religion; and to a people whose intelligence is proverbial…. The idea of such a mission was almost more than I could bear up under. I was almost ready to sink under the burden which was placed upon me.” (Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, 1945, p. 116)

And then Heber C. Kimball said this:

“However, all these considerations did not deter me from the path of duty; the moment I understood the will of my Heavenly Father, I felt a determination to go at all hazards, believing that He would support me by His almighty power, and endow me with every qualification that I needed; and although my family was dear to me, and I should have to leave them almost destitute, I felt that the cause of truth, the Gospel of Christ, outweighed every other consideration.” (Orson F. Whitney, Life of Heber C. Kimball, 1945, pp. 116-17)

Nine days later, Heber C. Kimball and those who were to accompany him departed to England. As a result of that mission, thousands of British converts joined the church and most of them crossed the ocean and settled in Nauvoo. Many of these converts became great church leaders and brought strength to the church. Faith in Christ caused Heber C. Kimball to act.

I would like to use my own family as an illustration of what I have in mind. Mother and I were filling a mission together over in Holland when we had a little girl born to us, and after we had been home a few years she passed away. When she was born, my wife has told me over and over again that she felt she saw an angel bring that spirit to her. And yet she is gone. Then I think of her four sisters. You voted here today to sustain one of them as a counselor in the general presidency of the Relief Society. Her other three sisters are just as noble and wonderful, although their talents may be just a little different.

When I think of this little one that we laid away when she was three-and-a-half years old, I thank God I have the faith to believe that God reigns in the heavens above and in the earth beneath and that this little one will ultimately enter into her glory and be equal to any of her four sisters who have tarried here upon this earth and raised their families. I thank God for the statement of the apostle Paul when he said that “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.” (1 Cor. 15:19.) In this brief period of mortality, it would not be possible for God to accomplish for all of his children all that he has in mind for them, the ones that are true and faithful.

I think of the statement of Moses as recorded in the Pearl of Great Price: “For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.” (Moses 1:39.) I wonder sometimes if we ever stop to analyze that statement. I think we can understand what “to bring to pass immortality” is, that we will never die after we come forth in the resurrection, as President Romney pointed out this morning. But what about eternal life? As I interpret this, I find in it the feeling that all that God has ultimately planned for his children who are faithful and true shall come to them in his own due time.

We read in the Book of Mormon that we are not all born at the same time (and that doesn’t matter) and that we don’t all die at the same time. (See Alma 40:8.) I think of the words of Abraham when he saw the placing of the spirits here upon this earth, that the Lord would prove them to see if they would do all things whatsoever he had commanded them. Then he adds: “And they who keep their first estate shall be added upon.” (Abr. 3:26.) That was in the spirit life before we came to mortality. “They who keep their second estate shall have glory added upon their heads for ever and ever.” (Abr. 3:26.) This little girl of ours kept her second estate as far as she could at her age.

Then I think of the statement of the Lord to the Prophet Joseph Smith when he said: “The works, and the designs, and the purposes of God cannot be frustrated, neither can they come to naught.” (D&C 3:1.) In other words, no one can stand in the way of God achieving what he has decreed for his children. Then a further statement in the Doctrine & Covenants where the Lord said: “His purposes fail not, neither are there any who can stay his hand. From eternity to eternity he is the same.” (D&C 76:3–4.)

Then there are the words of the Lord to the prophet Nephi when he said: “For my work is not yet finished; neither shall it be until the end of man, neither from that time henceforth and forever.” (2 Ne. 29:9.) Now that should enable us to comprehend and realize that there will never be a time when God will cease to do his work to bring to pass, as we read in the Pearl of Great Price, the glory that will be added upon their heads forever and ever.

Coming back to our family, we had four daughters before we got a boy and he grew into beautiful young manhood; we lost him in an accident down at the beach in California while I was the president of the stake there. He was just turning 16 and he stood as tall as his father, and to think now of his own brothers who are here: they have their families, and one of them has just been serving as one of the Regional Representatives of the Twelve. I can’t believe that boy will come out any less exalted in the eternities that are to come than his brothers who have lived here in mortality. When he died, the principal of the high school came to our home (and he was not a member of the Church) and told Sister Richards that our son was the best boy he had ever had in his school, and we felt that, too, as he grew into manhood.

Then I think of our little granddaughter who died at the same age; her father and mother are here today and her brothers and sisters. After just a few days of sickness, she passed away at the age of 16, a beautiful little woman. To think that God’s plan would not ultimately bring to her everything our other children received who tarried here in mortality would lessen my appreciation of my Father in heaven and the perfectness of his plan.

I think of the parable Jesus gave when he said:
“For which of you, intending to build a tower, sitteth not down first, and counteth the cost, whether he have sufficient to finish it?
“Lest haply, after he hath laid the foundation, and is not able to finish it, all that behold it begin to mock him.” (Luke 14:28–29.)
If God started to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man and did not provide an opportunity to complete the program, he would be like the builder who starts to build and then is not able to finish it.

Coming back, then, to the family, I think of my wife’s sister who died here a short time ago. She filled a mission for the Church; she worked in the auxiliaries and she was a noble character. But she never married, and I can’t believe that the Lord’s plan is imperfect, that she will not ultimately enjoy all that her sister (my wife) with our wonderful family has enjoyed. “His purposes fail not, neither are there any who can stay his hand.” (D&C 76:3.)

I remember the time so well as we were preparing for my very first invasion, sitting out in the Pacific on a troop ship with three thousand men aboard. This large group of soldiers represented the first seven waves in the invasion force. Prior to disembarking, one of the Protestant chaplains held a final church service. He had us all look around and get acquainted with each other and then he said: “Now, gentlemen, I don’t want to worry you, but do you realize by tomorrow morning at eight o’clock, many of you will be standing before your Maker? Are you ready?”
Well, how would you feel, young men, if that challenge were hurled at you? At that time I was almost nineteen. Shortly after the service I found a secluded spot on the ship and called time-out and talked to my Heavenly Father. I didn’t sleep that night nor did most of the men. The next morning as the seven waves of infantry went ashore, many not making it, I dug my first foxhole and took another time-out. I remember the event well. I called upon my Heavenly Father and said, “I really need to know if thou art there.” Heavenly Father spoke to my mind, and I haven’t been the same since.

I know a young woman who grew up in President Spencer W. Kimball’s ward. She had a fervent testimony of his calling, but while she was on her mission, President Kimball died. This young missionary worried about testifying of a prophet she didn’t know. One evening as she prayed for newly sustained President Ezra Taft Benson, she was immediately flooded with the warmth of the Spirit, and she gained a new testimony. “The Lord knew I needed to know,” she said, “and he knew I would share that witness in the conversion of others.” Sisters, this can happen for you!

Tristan S., 17, served on the planning committee and was excited about the whole conference. But even with all that energy, he still felt a little unsure about the actual teaching experience.
“I was nervous,” Tristan says. For one thing, part of the goal with each visit was to stay and talk for at least 15 minutes. In other words, no showing up, sharing a scripture or two, and leaving within a few minutes. Sometimes 15 minutes can feel pretty long.
Tristan went with a younger companion to the home of a single man in his 30s. “We shared scriptures from Matthew about how Jesus Christ brings peace in our life,” Tristan says.
The man they were visiting added to the conversation right away as he shared his own insights and experiences. They sailed right past the 15-minute mark without noticing. By the time they reached 45 minutes, the man told them, “There’s something different about you guys.”
Tristan and his companion gave the man a card directing him to mormon.org, which he accepted gladly.
“It was an amazing experience,” Tristan says. “It’s something I’ll never forget.”

A lovely woman came upon a little boy, hungry and shivering in the cold. Her motherly instincts prompted her to take the child in and warm and feed him. After the shivers had stopped and the boy had eaten, he looked up appreciatively at the woman and said, “Are you Heavenly Father’s wife?” The question penetrated her soul and rendered her nearly speechless, but then in inspiration a thought came and she answered, “No, I’m not his wife, but I am his daughter.”

A few weeks ago we had the opportunity of being in Suva, Fiji. I was surprised after registering at a motel to have the clerk look up and say, “Elder Ashton, could my husband and I and our children visit with you tonight?” I didn’t know that she knew who I was. Because we had meetings until ten o’clock in the evening, I told her the situation and she said, “We’ll come at ten o’clock in the evening.” And at ten o’clock in the evening this lady—and we will call her Jessie because that is her name (I would hate to try and pronounce her last name)—and her husband and six children crowded into our motel room.

After proper introductions and getting as comfortable as possible in almost impossible conditions, Jessie led off with this question. “Our son over here is nineteen years of age. The question we want to ask you, Elder Ashton, is, should we continue to save our money so that our son can go into the mission field, or should we continue to save our money so that some day all of us can go to the temple in New Zealand and be sealed to each other?”

My answer: “In the Church we do both.”

Another question. “Is it true that some missionaries can get money from other families for assistance when the missionary’s own family doesn’t have very much in the way of money?”

I said, “Yes, that is possible, but never deprive your family of the opportunity of taking part in some way to furnish money monthly to your son. Do not let that opportunity escape your family no matter how slight the contribution.” Brothers and sisters, money, like people, is only valuable when it is put to worthy purposes. In this case, money will be nothing more than a means to an end. It is not money, but a lack of it, that is making this family strong.

Just last Friday Sister Ashton and I had a letter from Suva, Fiji, indicating that the nineteen-year-old son was now in the mission field. I am pleased to add that to the remarks tonight.

The spirit of Sauniatu seems to affect everyone who goes there. Brother Isamaeli, who works on maintenance at the school, said that he didn’t want to come at first. “But,” he said, “after I had been at Sauniatu for a while, I felt the Spirit of the Lord upon my family. I knew it was a blessing to be here. When my family is sick, I administer to them and they get better. Before we came here, my wife and I quarreled many times, and sometimes I lost patience with her. But I’m glad to say that now we have a very happy family.
“It is nice to live in a place that is far away from town and other big villages. It is very quiet, and we are free from drunkards, robbers, and other people who cause trouble.”

I remember my first Mutual activity. I went as a guest or investigator a couple of days after my 12th birthday, before I was even a member.
To be honest, I really didn’t want to be there. My excuse was that I didn’t know anyone who claimed they went to this Church. At the time, I was attending a different Christian program that was just mainly fun. I really liked my friends there and the competitive games provided by the youth directors. So technically I was comparing the two church programs to see which one I liked best, and I was sure that I already knew which one I preferred and didn’t need to prove it by going to Mutual.
Or so I thought.
After my mom pleaded and begged, I found myself the following Wednesday night dragging up the concrete steps and opening the door for the first time.
I was instantly welcomed by many girls my age and even some older. “Strange,” I thought. “They don’t even know me and yet, they’re going out of their way to be extra nice.” There was this warm, sweet peace enfolding me as I timidly sat down in a chair in the room where the Beehives were meeting. I don’t really remember much from my real first encounter with the Church, but I do remember one thing—how I felt.
I do recall the Beehive activity was being read out of a cute periwinkle-colored book. I participated to the best of my ability and passed off my first value experience. I didn’t know at the time that this little Personal Progress book, and what it guided me to learn, would reach the depths of my heart and only four months later help me want to enter the waters of baptism.
Now, almost four years later, I have gained a humble testimony of my Savior through the teachings and powerful messages located right in that same cute little book I was introduced to years ago. This book helped me understand and live the gospel by studying and heeding the scriptures and words of modern prophets.
I am so grateful that I followed the counsel of Jesus Christ and came unto Him. I shudder to think of where I might have been drifting if I had stayed with what I thought was just a fun church program so long ago.

Illustration by Jennifer Tolman; sketches from Getty Images
I have always wanted to be a great contributor in science. During my undergraduate studies at Brigham Young University–Hawaii, Dr. Douglas Oba, a very supportive professor, introduced me to and trained me in the world of molecular biology and biotechnology. I even had the opportunity to work at the molecular laboratory at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, USA, for a summer internship.
When I went home to the Philippines, I landed a job at the DNA Analysis Laboratory at the University of the Philippines. The highlights of my career included working on various community projects, attending trainings and conferences, and being recognized by local and international science communities for my scientific publications. I also started my graduate program. I felt fulfilled in my new career.
After two years of working, I married my childhood friend in the temple. A little while later, we had our first baby and for the first time I found myself struggling. I didn’t know how to balance caring for the baby, spending time with my husband, keeping up with classes in my graduate program, juggling projects and papers at work, and fulfilling Church callings. I talked with my husband about my struggles, and he gently suggested that I consider stepping away from my career. I saw some wisdom in his advice, but I wasn’t ready to give up my professional life yet.
When I was pregnant with our second child, I had pre-term labor that required me to be on bed rest. I finally realized that I couldn’t do it all at once. I knew I had to make the choice that would be best for me and my family. After much pondering and prayer, I decided to leave my scientific work and instead devote my full time to my children.
I had planned for motherhood my whole life, but I never realized how much of a sacrifice this choice would be. I tried my best to keep a positive attitude, but I often felt sad that my career and graduate program had been cut short. I prayed to Heavenly Father for the spiritual strength to fulfill my role as a mother wholeheartedly. My husband patiently listened to my concerns. He encouraged me to write out my thoughts and feelings in my journal, which I had been unable to update for a while because of my busy schedule.
One day, while my kids were sleeping, I decided to look through my old journals. As I reviewed them, I was struck by how consistently I had written about my great desire to be a mom when I was a youth and young single adult. One statement in particular touched me: “I will strive to excel in my academic and spiritual learning so I can be an intelligent and noble mom to my kids.”
That enlightenment was what I needed the most! I felt the Spirit testify to me that I had made the right choice for my family. I realized that my education and work experience were not just for my benefit but for my children’s. It was a renewal of my testimony and eternal perspective of motherhood.
I was a stay-at-home mother for five years. Eventually, I completed my graduate program and went back to work when our children were a little older. I am continually learning to balance my limited time in performing my duties at work, home, and church, but I know it all works out with the Lord’s help. I continue to gain valuable experience in the “laboratory of life” and find joy and purpose in motherhood.

One of my children came in, said that Brother Newton Hall’s folks were out of bread. Had none that day. I put … our flour in sack to send up to Brother Hall’s. Just then Brother Hall came in. Says I, “Brother Hall, how are you out for flour.” “Brother Millett, we have none.” “Well, Brother Hall, there is some in that sack. I have divided and was going to send it to you. Your children told mine that you were out.” Brother Hall began to cry. Said he had tried others. Could not get any. Went to the cedars and prayed to the Lord and the Lord told him to go to Joseph Millett. “Well, Brother Hall, you needn’t bring this back if the Lord sent you for it. You don’t owe me for it.” You can’t tell how good it made me feel to know that the Lord knew that there was such a person as Joseph Millett.

In early 1991 I was involved in a car accident that left most of my body paralyzed. Since then, I have had a lot of time to compare my life before that incident with my life now. In some ways it is similar. Yet there are numerous differences.
Before my accident I had the attitude that I should try to perfect the four basic aspects of my life. Ranked in order of importance at that time, they were (1) physical ability, (2) mental ability, (3) spirituality, and (4) emotional stability.
Now the order of importance of these four vital cornerstones of my life has changed.
Before the accident, my perspective was that of an 18-year-old athlete who thought he knew everything. Although I grew up in a religious family and felt good about my beliefs, spirituality was not my top priority. Instead, physical strength, speed, and quickness were more important to me than either religion or school. I felt that going to school was a necessity simply to remain eligible for sports.
Although I did fairly well academically, I often found myself practicing for the football team or the baseball team rather than studying for a test or completing a class assignment. I had academic goals and important religious goals, but these came after my athletic aspirations. The experiences I’ve had as a result of the accident have helped me better understand what is really important.
Since 16 February 1991, the day I fell asleep driving my truck, I have had the opportunity to look at life from a completely different viewpoint. I have had a lot of time to think about and adjust my priorities. I still love athletics and believe they have the potential to build character. But they are not the most important thing in my life anymore. I recognize now that my religion, my family, and my friends are the foundation for my happiness, not winning at sports.
My mind is the most precious asset I have, and I realize that it must be exercised even as my legs or my lungs were exercised in athletics. I am grateful for the opportunity I have to attend college and gain knowledge. While I have slowed down physically, I have accelerated spiritually and mentally.
Realizing that obtaining knowledge and increasing spirituality are ongoing processes, I believe that my new priorities are helping me achieve those elusive goals.
Not many people have the chance to live life from two very different points of view. I am grateful I have had this opportunity. It has helped me place my spirituality, mental capacity, emotional stability, and physical ability in order of their importance.

Tillie could hardly contain her excitement. She crunched through the brightly colored autumn leaves with her bare toes, clutching Papa’s hand tightly. “Soon I’ll have some new shoes to jump in the leaves with,” Tillie thought happily.
Fall had come early this year, and the tanner, Brother Marshall, did not have any leather to make shoes. So when Papa heard that a man had come from Salt Lake City to sell shoes, he was determined to get Tillie and her little sister, Lucy, a new pair for the winter months.
Papa led Tillie and Lucy into the small tent where the man was selling the shoes. Tillie gasped when she looked at the beautiful leather shoes stacked side by side.
Little Lucy clapped her hands as the kind man slipped smooth brown shoes on her feet and tied the laces for her. They were soft on her toes and squeaked a little when she danced around in the tent.
Tillie looked hopefully at the shoe seller, but he shook his head sadly.
“I’m sorry, miss, but I’m afraid I don’t have any shoes in your size,” he said.
Papa paid the man for Lucy’s shoes and thanked him, then led Tillie and Lucy outside.
Tillie choked back tears as she held Papa’s hand, trying not to be envious as Lucy ran ahead, stirring up little clouds of dust with the heels of her new leather shoes. She was happy that Lucy had new shoes, but Tillie knew she needed shoes before winter. The days were already growing chilly, and it wouldn’t be long until snow came.
When they reached the house, Lucy ran to help Mama with the milking. Papa sat down in his favorite chair and began to untie his tall leather boots. Tillie gasped as Papa picked up a knife and began slicing leather off the tops of his boots. She knew that Papa’s boots protected his feet when he worked.
When he finished, Papa handed her the strips of leather.
“Now,” he said, smiling, “run over to Brother Marshall’s and ask him to make you a pair of shoes.”
Tillie threw her arms around Papa’s neck and hugged him tightly. Then she dashed out of the house. She reached Brother Marshall’s shop and handed him the leather.
“Could you please make me a new pair of shoes?” she asked.
Brother Marshall pulled a stool over for Tillie to sit on and carefully measured her feet.
“All right, Tillie, come back on Friday and your shoes will be ready,” he said.
Tillie thanked him and ran back home, scattering leaves happily along her way.
That Friday, Papa and Tillie went to Brother Marshall’s shop to get her shoes. She slipped them on, delighted at how warm her toes felt. They looked just like Lucy’s shoes, and they even squeaked a little when she walked.
As they thanked Brother Marshall and left the shop, Tillie held Papa’s hand and looked at her new shoes. Then she looked at Papa’s boots, tied together now so they wouldn’t fall down. Tillie felt warm inside. She knew Papa loved her very much.
When they got home, Tillie grabbed Lucy and led her outside. There was a big pile of crunchy leaves that was perfect for jumping into.

We sat in her living room—she in her nineties, I in my thirties. Her health and the snowy weather wouldn’t allow her to come to the bishop’s office for tithing settlement, so I had stopped by her home instead.
She handed me two pieces of paper. One was her own handwritten record of the contributions she had made to the Church during the year; the other was a computer printout listing the same information.
“As you can see,” she said, “my records perfectly match the ward clerk’s.” I couldn’t help thinking that if there had been a discrepancy, the error wouldn’t have been hers.
Then I asked the question bishops are supposed to ask in these situations: “Sister, is this a full tithing for the year?”
She looked at me with incredulity in her eyes. There was a brief pause. And then, with mock indignation, she chastised:
“Bishop, that’s the most ridiculous question I have ever heard!”
In her case, I couldn’t help but agree. We laughed together as I gave her a hug. I had known the answer before asking the question. But I also knew she was glad for the opportunity to give a verbal accounting of her faithfulness.

A few years ago I was drafted to serve in Taiwan’s naval forces. I served as a chief petty officer and squad leader on a harbor support craft, assisting all incoming and outgoing ships.
One morning in early spring my colleagues and I received the routine instruction to assist a ship approaching the harbor. Initially, the weather was clear. But after leaving the harbor, we ran into heavy fog. Visibility was less than three meters. Because we had never seen such a heavy spring fog, we were tense and disoriented. We were quickly lost. We did not know where we were or where we should go.
Because I was the most experienced hand on board and the most familiar with the area, the skipper ordered me to use the boat’s compass to find our bearing, lead everyone back to the mouth of the harbor, and suspend mission operations. Otherwise, we might at any moment enter an area of submerged reefs or sail too close to mainland China.
I had never experienced fog that required a compass, and I had neglected the work of periodic compass inspection, maintenance, and repair. So when we desperately needed the compass to find our direction, it did not work at all. With rebuke in his voice, the captain said, “You’ve put us in danger. We could run into a reef at any moment!”
I realized he was right. I sadly bowed my head and silently prayed, asking Heavenly Father to forgive my negligence and help me find a way to escape the fog and return to the pier. After my prayer, a sudden thought came into my mind. I recommended to the skipper that we turn in a certain direction, travel very slowly, and find the coast. He agreed, and not long after taking this action, we arrived at the granite cliffs south of the harbor mouth and slowly followed the cliff wall into the harbor. Soon we were safely home.
Because of this experience, I know that Heavenly Father listens to my prayers. I am grateful that in spite of my neglecting proper preventative measures, the compass of spiritual guidance started to work, and it led us home.

When I was 15, my mom was diagnosed with an advanced stage of cancer. In the blink of an eye, our family felt the weight of overwhelming new stresses, fears, and changes. That year, candle time was a profound refuge from the storms of sadness and uncertainty.
A few years later, after my mom passed away, we continued holding the tradition each Christmas. It took on new meaning as we remembered her voice, her touch, and her love.

7 Soon after Hyrum’s death, the family began making preparations to go west. With his father gone, Joseph F. assumed responsibility for helping his mother all he could. Not yet ten years of age, Joseph F. drove the oxen the entire distance from Winter Quarters to the Salt Lake Valley—over a thousand miles—in the summer of 1848.
8 This journey proved to be an extra hardship because the captain of their group was against Mary Fielding Smith and her family going on the arduous journey without a father to take care of their needs. He told Mary that she and her children would be a burden to the rest of the company. But Mary told the captain that she would ask no special favors, would make the trip without his help, and would even beat him to the valley! She kept her word, with much help from her young son, Joseph F., the future prophet.

We have three young children, ages five, three, and one. Initially our family home evenings were disasters. The children would disruptively keep the attention on themselves. My wife and I felt almost defeated.
Then one Monday night, my wife taught about Samuel the Lamanite using flannel-board pictures as visuals. We all took turns posting the pictures on the board to correspond with the characters in the account as they were mentioned. The children enjoyed the activity so much that we had our first peaceful and Spirit-filled family home evening in many months.
This lesson revolutionized our family home evenings. We began preparing more interactive lessons, and the children volunteered to do all sorts of things to make family home evening work. We also began devoting more time to planning our family home evenings. We made sure that no two home evenings had the same agenda. The variety of activities helped to keep our children’s interest.
It has taken deliberate efforts on our part to institute and sustain these elements in our family home evenings. But our children now anticipate family home evening and participate in more constructive ways.

In a message of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s Music and the Spoken Word, a story was told about an elderly man and woman who had been married for many decades. Because the wife was slowly losing her sight, she could no longer take care of herself the way she had done for so many years. Without being asked, the husband began to paint her fingernails for her.
Photo illustration by Jupiterimages/liquidlibrary/Thinkstock
“He knew that she could see her fingernails when she held them close to her eyes, at just the right angle, and they made her smile. He liked to see her happy, so he kept painting her nails for more than five years before she passed away.”3

As Bridger Pons began looking forward to helping bless the sacrament, there was something he was dreading too: reading and memorizing the sacrament prayers. Bridger has dyslexia, a learning disability where reading and spelling are hard to do.
“I’ve worked really hard to become a good reader, but I still get nervous when I have to read out loud in front of a group,” Bridger said. “When I’m nervous, I make mistakes, which makes me even more nervous.”
Bridger Pons
So Bridger and his mother printed a version of the sacrament prayers that was easier to read. It used a larger font and was separated into short phrases. After lots of practice, he was able to recite the prayers without any mistakes.
“Being able to overcome the challenge of reading in front of a large group may not be a big deal for a lot of people, but for me it was important,” Bridger said.
His extra effort ended up blessing others in unexpected ways. After the meeting, several ward members came to him and said that his slow, intentional speaking helped them focus on the Spirit during those sacred prayers. Additionally, while helping leaders understand his challenges, Bridger learned that other young men in the stake need similar help. A fear of reading was affecting their Church participation and their confidence in preparing for missionary service. Now the Pons family shares reading resources with others whenever possible.
Bridger said he hopes more people will realize that how well a person reads does not reflect their level of intelligence. He also shared these words of encouragement for those who have reading challenges like he does: “You’re not alone. And you are smart.”