Gospel Story Finder

Wayne still lives in the neighborhood in which he grew up. But his favorite spots have taken on a new meaning. He and his buddies used to fish and build tree houses along a small section of Burch Creek. “I often go back to the spot where we played,” said Wayne. “I go when I have something to think over. It used to be a place where I would go to have fun with my friends, but now it’s a place to go and think.”

Have you memorized your monthly New Era? Kenneth Higbee did, in just a few hours.

Dr. Higbee, a psychologist at BYU, gives firesides in the Provo area explaining the “link system” of memory training.

With the “link system” a person associates easily remembered items together with mental pictures. For example, a shopping list of milk, bananas, and a can opener could easily be remembered by forming a mental picture of a banana opening a carton of milk. Before one such demonstration the youth of the Provo Utah Sharon East Stake were puzzled when asked to bring copies of the June New Era to a stake fireside.

After showing how the link system can be used to memorize lists rapidly and accurately, Dr. Higbee asked the young people to open their magazines and ask him any question about the contents. Although he couldn’t repeat the stories and articles word for word, he knew all the titles, authors, subjects, and even the page numbers of the articles.

After the New Era demonstration, the young people were asked to try and memorize a list of 20 words. Only three could do it. But after practicing the link system, over 80 percent of the group could memorize the complete 20-word list.

With a little practice you might be able to memorize the New Era too. And when you’ve got it down, pass the magazine on to a friend who “forgot” to subscribe. Or better still, subscribe for that friend!

As a boy, President Thomas S. Monson was celebrating Christmas when his friend asked a startling question, “What does turkey taste like?” He responded that it tasted like chicken, but then he realized that his unfortunate friend had never tasted either. Not only that, but there was nothing in his friend’s house with which to prepare a Christmas dinner. “I pondered a solution,” said President Monson. “I had no turkeys, no chickens, no money. Then I remembered I did have two pet rabbits. Immediately I took my friend by the hand and rushed to the rabbit hutch, placed the rabbits in a box, and handed the box to him with the comment, ‘Here, take these two rabbits. They’re good to eat—just like chicken.’ … Tears came easily to me as I closed the door to the empty rabbit hutch. But I was not sad. A warmth, a feeling of indescribable joy, filled my heart. It was a memorable Christmas.”2

When I was about six, my father bought the only small store in town. He also kept the farm. We were very poor, and Dad worked hard so that he could pay the bills. While Dad worked on the farm, my sister and I worked almost every day in the store. We had two gas pumps out front, and even as a youngster I learned how to pump gas into cars. I also learned how to write up sales. Sometimes I took care of the store all alone, even though I was quite young.
Mother spent most of her time in bed because she was sick, so I learned early to do chores and be responsible. I did the family wash and ironed my own clothes. From her bed, Mother taught me how to make bread, and that became my weekly chore. Of course, few children like to clean their rooms, and I was normal. I could put that off because it was upstairs and Mother didn’t get up there often! But I did all my other jobs as best I could.
Dad was in the bishopric for seventeen years, practically the whole time I was growing up. My sister and I would walk the three-quarters of a mile to church and sit in the congregation and watch Dad up on the stand. Then we’d walk home and tell Mother about what we’d learned. Mother’s health gradually improved, and from the time I finished high school, she lived a normal, active life.
Seeing Dad up on the stand is a fond memory because I knew that Dad was doing what Heavenly Father wanted him to do. As long as he was trying to do what was right and serving Heavenly Father, everything was OK. Nothing was lacking in our lives. I knew that Dad was doing his best. I knew that Heavenly Father was taking care of Mother. And I knew that all I had to do was do my best, and Heavenly Father would help us.
We all must have faith in Jesus Christ. When we have faith in Jesus Christ and hard things happen in our lives, we can be strong. We can know that Heavenly Father loves us, He is aware of us, and He is there for us.

I am an inmate at the Utah State Prison. Last year I got a card from my mom and dad that said they were giving me a year’s subscription to the New Era. I told them that it was a waste of money, considering where I was. But I soon changed my mind when I received my first copy and learned what it was all about. I love the New Era. It makes me feel good inside when I read it. It helps me come closer to God, and it gives me a better attitude about life. I want to say to all the youth of the Church that it is for you that your parents tell you to be home by 10:00. All the things they tell you will help you. If I had done all that my mom and dad told me, I would not be here in prison. I pray that you will all listen to your parents and stay close to your Father in heaven.
Name Withheld

To give you an example of how this works, let me share with you an experience of President Heber J. Grant. While he was a member of the Council of the Twelve, when asked by the President of the Church to submit names, he repeatedly submitted that of a very good friend of his for consideration to fill existing vacancies among the Twelve.
The man was never chosen, and President Grant is reported to have said at one time that if he ever became President of the Church, and there was a vacancy to fill, he would call that man, because he was so well qualified.
After he became President and it was necessary to fill a vacancy, he told the Lord that he knew whom he wanted, but that he wanted to select the man that the Lord wanted. The name of Melvin J. Ballard, whom President Grant knew slightly, but not too well, came into his mind and kept recurring to let him know that he was the man who should be called. He was nominated by President Grant and approved by the Twelve. He was ordained and set apart by the First Presidency and Council of the Twelve and at the following general conference was presented to those in attendance for their sustaining vote.

Though all of us have to do things we do not like, it is important that you ultimately enjoy your work. If you can’t stand to be indoors, maybe you had better try to find something that you would like to do outside. One high school senior loved to fish and camp, and consequently he became very knowledgeable about nature. He got in touch with two prominent naturalists and they hired him. His job? To help study the habits and life of the grizzly bear in Yellowstone National Park.

On Easter Sunday some years ago, my four-year-old son Ben came down the hallway of our meetinghouse after Primary, happily waving the paper he had colored. He called out with pure excitement, “Mom, Mom, have you heard about the Resurrection?” He wanted to make sure I had heard the good news. Something his Primary teacher had said really touched Ben’s heart so that he joyfully began to understand the Resurrection. How nice it would be for all of us to feel that same joy every Easter!

It’s a long drive from Magrath, Alberta, Canada, to Calgary, and the torrents of rain pelting the highway didn’t make the trip seem any shorter. Most of us were tired, so we stretched out on the seats and mattress in the back of the family van while mom and Grandma Briggs sat up front and talked. I remember thinking we were in the middle of a real cloudburst and then drifting off to sleep.
When I regained consciousness, I ached all over. No wonder. The impact of a violent crash had stuffed me into a small space near the side door. My legs were scraped and bleeding; my breath came convulsively. I seemed to be alone except I could see grandma lying in the wreckage, and I heard moans. Soon strangers pulled me from my painful trap, and I approached grandma, who whispered, “Everything is going to be all right.”
Briggs, my 13-year-old brother, had been thrown out the rear door of the van. He said that when he found me I was hysterical. He shook me by the arm to help me get control of myself and told me to quit screaming and pray. I calmed down. And I did pray. He stumbled back to the highway and flagged down a car, even though his arm and collar bone were broken and his head was cut.
Evidently my mother had lost control of the van when it hydroplaned through a large puddle. We had crossed the road, skidded down an embankment, and then continued forward until the wheels hit a culvert and we became airborne. We crashed into the dirt and rolled several times, then came to rest upright near a dirt road that led to a farmhouse. Mother was seriously injured, with a crushed chest and a lacerated forehead; she was trapped in the wreckage and couldn’t be moved without help.
It was hard not to panic. We were far from home on vacation, and though we had been on our our aunt’s new home, we didn’t know anyone in the immediate area. (We were later to find out that we were close to Vulcan, a small town about 35 miles from Calgary.) And we weren’t where we could be easily seen from the road. But my brother’s words stuck in my mind, that I should be quiet and pray. Whenever I did start to get upset and worried, I prayed and felt calm again.
There were two girls in the car Briggs flagged down. They in turn stopped a car with a CB radio, an ambulance was at the scene in two and a half minutes. We were lucky. There was a small emergency hospital in Vulcan, and we received care quickly.
There was only one phone for patients to use. My mother asked to be wheeled to it. She called my father back in Salt Lake City; then she called my uncle in Calgary, and he came immediately. When he arrived, the first thing room asked him was if he could find the elders. Approaching the hospital desk to inquire, he was met by two men in their 50s or 60s.
“Has anyone here been asking for elders from the Mormon church?” they asked. “Yes!” he said, and led them to our rooms. They said they had been driving down the road, had seen the Utah license plates on the smashed van, and felt inspired to check at the hospital. They said they were both high priests. Before leaving, they gave a blessing to my brother, my cousin, my mother, and me. We never did find out their names or where they were from, but later we sent a letter to the editor of the local paper in an effort to thank them.
It was in the hospital that we also learned that Grandma Briggs had died at the scene of the accident. But her words of assurance had helped me to understand that she was ready to rejoin grandpa in the spirit world and that she had felt peace in her heart as she passed to the other side.
I learned another important lesson, too. And that is that the Lord does hear and answer prayers, and that he can direct worthy priesthood holders to be in places where they can help others. Though we all suffered serious injuries, we recovered. And the priesthood blessings at a time of need were a great comfort to us. I will always be grateful to those two men who took time to obey a prompting of the Spirit that led them to the hospital, and thankful for the peace that came to my heart when I prayed, telling me everything would be all right.

“And speaking of courting, I remember a night when my sister Jane had a date with a boy who had grown a fine beard (fine enough to win a recent beard contest). However, the boy was very nervous about coming to our home, and he didn’t know if Dad would approve of his beard. He finally became so concerned that he shaved it off and appeared at our front door that evening clean-shaven. You know, my father was very touched by that.”

I‘m a full-time mum of five children aged 13 and under in the Aberdeen Scotland Stake. Two years ago, I began writing heaps of music and I realised that I absolutely loved to write—and that I was better than I thought.
Last year, a friend recommended I get in contact with a member of the Staines England Stake, a professional musician and composer named Sam Petchey, for some help with recording some songs. We soon discovered we made a great musical team.
In 2023, we wrote and performed an Easter cantata called Women of Jesus for a pop-up women‘s choir in Staines and Hyde Park. In the Summer we released an EP to streaming services called All the Good Songs Have Been Written. In October we ran a recording afternoon with some of my singing friends from Aberdeen Chorus of Sweet Adelines. We sang my original carol, ‘The Lamb’, which Sam had arranged for four parts. Later that evening, we held the first concert of me singing solo with Sam accompanying my original songs, while launching pre-orders for our Christmas album.
In December last year, we found out that our choral arrangements of ‘The Lamb’ had been shortlisted in the Sir David Willcocks Carol Competition, reached the semifinal of the UK Songwriting Contest and, most exciting, was one of five winners in the Making Music Classic FM Carol Competition. It was played on national radio on Classic FM on Friday 22 December 2023.
It is all utterly amazing to me. I see the hand of Heavenly Father in my life so much as I write music and feel the Holy Spirit with me as I am writing. Sometimes it feels like I am just catching it in my hands and trying to get it all down quickly enough.
Most days, though, I‘m covered in Lego, teddies, leftover food and kisses from my kids.

Correction, hopefully gentle, can come from one’s spouse. Elder Richard G. Scott, who just addressed us, remembers a time early in his marriage when his wife, Jeanene, counseled him to look directly at people when he spoke to them. “You look at the floor, the ceiling, the window, anywhere but in their eyes,” she said. He took that gentle rebuke to heart, and it made him much more effective in counseling and working with people. As one who served as a full-time missionary under then President Scott’s direction, I can attest that he does look one squarely in the eye in his conversations. I can also add that when one needs correction, that look can be very penetrating.

The group pushed on to another of George Washington’s famous camps on the banks of the Delaware River. Instead of tramping through deep snow with cold feet like the Revolutionary soldiers, this modern group welcomed the cool water of the river. Each teen was armed with an inflated tube, and they settled down to float the river.
“Tubing was fun,” said Jan Taylor of the Doylestown Pennsylvania Ward, “because you didn’t have to do anything in particular and you could talk to people. Everyone was together, and we were going so slow there was nothing else to do besides talk.”
The floaters were a little deceived about the speed of the river. They thought that it would be an easy matter to just paddle over to the bank. But when the floaters reached the point where they were supposed to get out, some people found they were caught in the current and being swept down river. They were in no real danger, but they were passing by the easiest places to get up the bank.
At this point, Tim Bothell, 19, a chaperon from the Smerna Branch of the Wilmington Delaware Stake, went to the rescue. He swam out into the current and caught errant floaters who were not strong enough to get themselves out of the river. Again and again he reached out and helped someone get into the shallow water where they could wade out.
Another group of boys brought up the rear in the river to keep an eye out for trouble. They made sure that everyone had made it down safely. Both Tim and the rear guard did these things without being asked. They were watching out for each other. They were helping each other have a good time. For these three days, strangers were closing the distance and becoming friends.

Brother Saw Polo was 58 years old when he was introduced to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. When I met him, he had been serving as a branch president for several years, but I learned that he had never read the Book of Mormon because it was not yet available in his native Burmese. When I asked him how he knew that the book was true without having read it, he replied that he had studied the Book of Mormon Stories picture book every day by looking at the illustrations, using a dictionary to translate the English words, and taking careful notes of what he learned. He explained, “Every time I studied, I would pray about what I learned, and I would feel peace and joy, my mind would be clear, and my heart would be soft. I felt the Holy Ghost testifying to me that it was true. I know that the Book of Mormon is the word of God.”

Elder Alejandro Patanía, a former Area Seventy, relates the story of his younger brother Daniel, who sailed out to sea to go fishing with his crew. After a time, Daniel received an urgent warning that a major storm was rapidly approaching. Immediately, Daniel and his crew started for port.

As the storm intensified, the engine of a nearby fishing boat ceased to function. Daniel’s crew hooked a cable to the disabled boat and began towing it to safety. They radioed for help, knowing that, with the increasing storm, they needed immediate assistance.

As loved ones anxiously waited, representatives from the coast guard, the fishermen’s association, and the navy met to decide the best rescue strategy. Some wanted to leave right away but were told to wait for a plan. While those in the storm continued pleading for help, the representatives continued meeting, trying to agree on the proper protocol and a plan.

When a rescue group was finally organized, one last desperate call came. The raging storm had broken the cable between the two boats, and Daniel’s crew was going back to see if they could save their fellow fishermen. In the end, both ships sank, and their crews, including Elder Patanía’s brother Daniel, were lost.

Elder Patanía compared this tragedy to the Lord’s admonition when He said, “Ye [have] not strengthened, … [or] brought again that which was driven away, … [or] sought that which was lost; … and I will require my flock at [your] hand.”

Elder Patanía explained that, while we must be organized in our councils, quorums, auxiliaries, and even as individuals, we must not delay going to the rescue. Sometimes many weeks pass as we talk about how to help families or individuals who are in special need. We deliberate about who will visit them and the approach to take. Meanwhile, our lost brothers and sisters continue needing and sometimes even calling and pleading for help. We must not delay.

I chose to arrange the next two family home evenings, focusing on faith. I started off by preparing the lessons and trying to learn the chords on the guitar for the songs we would sing.
The first lesson was on faith. I asked what we as a family could change to grow our faith. They replied, “Praying, studying scriptures, fasting, going to church,” and so on. We agreed that there are many things you can do to grow your faith, but the most important thing is to actually do them. It’s important that you act in order to strengthen your faith.
The second lesson was on spiritual gifts. We talked about what faith and spiritual gifts had to do with each other.
Our faith-themed family home evenings went really well. We improved some things in our family; we had fun and tried not to just get it over with. We felt the Spirit together as a family.
Riza S., 16, Roskilde, Denmark

“L?ook!” Sasha whispered. “Another squirrel.” He was having fun exploring the Sochi Arboretum. The giant park had all kinds of beautiful flowers and trees. Back home, in central Russia, it was still snowy and freezing cold. But here in Sochi, the sun was shining, and the air smelled like spring.
Sasha watched the squirrel nibble on a nut. It still had its thick winter coat, but Sasha guessed it was as excited for spring as he was. He grinned as the squirrel scurried up a tree.
Just then Mama’s phone rang. “Hello?” Mama said. She paused. “But I thought our tickets were for tomorrow! It’s today?” Soon she hung up the phone.
“Sasha! We have to go now. Our tour of the Skypark is this morning, and the bus is leaving in 15 minutes!”
“Can we get to the bus stop that soon?” Sasha asked.
“I hope so. Let’s pray in our hearts and do our best.” Mama took his hand, and they started to run.
The Sochi Arboretum was big. Sasha wasn’t sure they could find the way out! But he said a prayer in his heart. Please help us get to the bus stop in time. We’d really like to go to the Skypark.
The Skypark was an adventure park high up in the mountains. It had giant swings, climbing walls, ziplines, and a ropes course. It also had the Skybridge—a super-long bridge hanging high up in the sky. Sasha hoped they would get there in time.
Finally they found the main road and looked for a taxi. They saw one right away! They hopped in and Mama told the driver the name of the bus stop.
“You’re lucky!” the driver said. “I know a shortcut.”
Sasha stared out the window as they sped past the trees.
“Do you think we’ll make it?” Sasha asked Mama.
Mama looked at her watch. “I don’t know. But we prayed. And even if we don’t make it, that’s OK. We’re on an adventure!”
Soon they were at the bus stop. The bus wasn’t even there yet! It was late.
Mama and Sasha were still breathing hard, but Sasha smiled. “That driver was right! We are lucky.”
“I don’t think it was just luck, dear,” Mama said. “Sometimes we have little miracles that remind us how much Heavenly Father loves us.”
Just then, the bus pulled up. Mama and Sasha climbed on and headed off to the Skypark. Sasha was grateful tor this little miracle!
This story took place in Russia.

When Ruby and I knelt at the Salt Lake Temple at the altar on September the fourth, 1930, holding hands and looking at one another, little did we ever realize what would lie ahead for us. We were two young people. I had come out of the country in southern Idaho, and Ruby had come out of Sanpete County, Utah. Our fathers were dead, but we had two wonderful widowed mothers, and they were with us in the temple. As we knelt and made covenants and promises, I knew that that was for real.

Now, after we have been married 70 years, I can say to all of you that it gets better, that it gets better year after year, with the preciousness and the tenderness and the realization of some of the eternal blessings that lie ahead for us. And so to all of you I would say, and Ruby would join with me if she could be standing here, that life can be wonderful and so meaningful, but we have to live it in a simple way. We must live the principles of the gospel. For it is the gospel in our lives that makes the difference as we wend our way through life.

In 1936, 68 years ago, one of the secretaries to the Quorum of the Twelve told me what a member of the Twelve had told her. She said that in the coming general conference there would be announced a program which would come to be recognized as even more noteworthy than the coming of our people to these valleys as pioneers.
Now, parenthetically, you should not tell your secretary what you should keep confidential, and she should not tell anyone else when she is given confidential information.
But that was what happened back then. It never happens today. Oh no! I should add that my able secretaries are never guilty of such a breach of confidentiality.
As you who are acquainted with the history know, there was announced at that time the Church security plan, the name of which was subsequently changed to the Church welfare program.
I wondered back in those days how anything the Church did could eclipse in anyone’s judgment the historic gathering of our people to these western valleys of the United States. That was a movement of such epic proportions that I felt nothing could ever be so noteworthy. But I have discovered something of interest in the last short while.
We receive many prominent visitors in the office of the First Presidency. They include heads of state and ambassadors of nations. A few weeks ago we entertained the mayor of one of the great cities of the world. We have likewise recently entertained the vice president and the ambassador of Ecuador, the ambassador from Lithuania, the ambassador from Belarus, and others. In our conversations, not one of these visitors mentioned the great pioneer journey of our forebears. But each of them, independently, spoke in high praise of our welfare program and our humanitarian efforts.
And so as I speak in this great priesthood meeting, I wish to say a few words concerning our efforts in behalf of those in need, be they members of the Church or otherwise, in various parts of the world.
When the modern welfare program was put in motion, it was designed to take care of the needs of our own people. In the years that have followed, thousands upon thousands have been served. Bishops and Relief Society presidents have had available to them food and clothing and other supplies for those in need. Numberless members of the Church have worked in volunteer capacities in producing that which was required. We now operate 113 storehouses, 63 farms, 105 canneries and home storage centers, 18 food processing and distribution plants, as well as many other facilities.
Not only have the needs of Church members been met, but aid has been extended to countless others. Right here in this Salt Lake City community, many of the hungry are fed daily by non-LDS agencies utilizing LDS welfare supplies.
Here, in this city, and in a number of other places, we operate beautiful stores where there is no cash register, where no money changes hands, where food, clothing, and other necessities are provided to those in distress. I believe that no better milk, no better meat, and no better flour is found on any grocery shelf than that which is distributed from the bishops’ storehouses.
The principles on which these establishments operate are essentially what they were at the beginning.
Those in need are expected to do all they can to provide for themselves. Then families are expected to assist in taking care of their less-fortunate members. And then the resources of the Church are made available.
We believe in and take very seriously the words of our Lord:
“Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
“For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
“Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me” (Matthew 25:34–36).
This is the Lord’s way of caring for those in need which, He declared, “ye have … always with you” (see Matthew 26:11).
Those who are able voluntarily work to provide for those who are not able. Last year there were 563,000 days of donated labor in welfare facilities. That is the equivalent of a man working eight hours a day for 1,542 years.
A recent issue of the Church News carried the story of a group of farmers in a small Idaho community. May I read briefly from that account?
“It is 6 a.m. in late October, and frost already hangs in the air over the sugar beet fields of Rupert, Idaho.
“The long arms of the ‘beeters’ stretch out over twelve rows, slicing the tops off sugar beets. Behind them, the harvesters thrust their steel fingers into the soil and scoop up the beets, pulling them up toward a belt and into a waiting truck.
“… This is the Rupert Idaho Welfare Farm, and those who are working here today are volunteers. … At times more than 60 machines [are] working in harmony together— … all owned by local farmers.”
The work goes on throughout the day.
“[At] 7 p.m. … the sun has set, leaving the land dark and cold once again. The farmers head home, exhausted and happy.
“They have finished well another day.
“They have harvested the Lord’s sugar beets” (Neil K. Newell, “A Harvest in Idaho,” Church News, Mar. 20, 2004, 16).
Such remarkable volunteer service goes on constantly to assure supplies for the storehouses of the Lord.
Since the early beginnings, the program has moved beyond caring for the needy to the encouragement of preparedness on the part of families of the Church. No one knows when catastrophe might strike—or sickness, or unemployment, or a disabling accident.
Last year the program helped families store 18 million pounds of basic foods against a possible time of need. Hopefully that time will never come. But the good, wholesome, basic food so stored brings peace of mind and also the satisfaction of obedience to counsel.
Now there has been added another element. It began some years ago when drought in Africa brought hunger and death to uncounted numbers. Members of the Church were invited to contribute to a great humanitarian effort to meet the needs of those terribly impoverished people. Your contributions were numerous and generous. The work has continued because there are other serious needs in many places. The outreach of this aid has become a miracle. Millions of pounds of food, medical supplies, blankets, tents, clothing, and other materials have staved off famine and desolation in various parts of the world. Wells have been dug; crops have been planted; lives have been saved. Let me give you an example.
Neil Darlington is a chemical engineer who worked for a large industrial company in Ghana. Eventually he retired.
He and his wife were then called as a missionary couple. They were sent to Ghana. Brother Darlington says, “In areas of famine, disease, and social unrest, we were there as representatives of the Church, extending a helping hand to the destitute, the hungry, the distressed.”
In small villages they drilled new wells and repaired old ones. Those of us who have fresh, clean water in abundance can scarcely appreciate the circumstances of those who are without.
Can you picture this couple, devoted Latter-day Saint missionaries? They drill into the dry earth. Their drill reaches the water table below, and the miracle liquid comes to the surface and spills over the dry and thirsty soil. There is rejoicing. There are tears. There is now water to drink, water with which to wash, water to grow crops. There is nothing more treasured in a dry land than water. How absolutely beautiful is water pouring from a new well.
On one occasion, when the tribal chiefs and the elders of the village gathered to thank them, Brother Darlington asked the chief if he and Sister Darlington could sing a song for them. They looked into the eyes of the dark-skinned men and women before them and sang “I Am a Child of God” as an expression of their common brotherhood.
This one couple, through their efforts, have provided water for an estimated 190,000 people in remote villages and refugee camps. Contemplate, if you will, the miracle of this accomplishment.
And now, literally thousands of their kind—married couples, couples who otherwise might simply have lived out their lives in largely idle pursuits—have served and are serving in scores of ways and in scores of places. They have worked and continue to work in the impoverished areas of America. They have worked, and still do so, in India and Indonesia, in Thailand and Cambodia, in Russia and the Baltic nations. And so the work expands.
Joining with others, the Church has recently provided wheelchairs for some 42,000 disabled persons. Think of what this means to people who literally have had to crawl to get about. With the aid of selfless doctors and nurses, neonatal resuscitation training was provided to nearly 19,000 professionals in the year 2003 alone. The lives of thousands of babies will be spared as a consequence.
Last year some 2,700 individuals were treated for eye problems, and 300 local practitioners were trained in sight-saving procedures. The blind have literally been made to see.
Where devastating floods have come, where earthquakes have created disaster, where hunger has stalked the land, wherever want has been created by whatever cause, representatives of the Church have been there. Some 98 million dollars in cash and in-kind assistance have been distributed in the past year, bringing such aid to a total of 643 million dollars in just 18 years.
I have been a firsthand witness to the effectiveness of our humanitarian efforts. In traveling the world, I have seen the recipients of your generosity. In 1998 I visited the areas of Central America, which had been ravaged by Hurricane Mitch. Here the distribution of food and clothing was quickly organized, and the cleaning and rebuilding of devastated homes and shattered lives was a miracle to behold.
There is not time to go on recounting the reach of these great and significant programs. In extending help we have not asked whether those affected belong to the Church, for we know that each of earth’s children is a child of God worthy of help in time of need. We have done what we have done largely with the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing. We seek no commendation or thank-yous. It is compensation enough that when we help one of the least of these our Father’s children, we have done it unto Him and His Beloved Son (see Matthew 25:40).
We shall go on in this work. There will always be a need. Hunger and want and catastrophes will ever be with us. And there will always be those whose hearts have been touched by the light of the gospel who will be willing to serve and work and lift the needy of the earth.
As a correlated effort we have established the Perpetual Education Fund. It has come about through your generous contributions. It is now operating in 23 countries. Loans are extended to worthy young men and women for education. Otherwise they would be trapped in the stagnated poverty their parents and forebears have known for generations. Some 10,000 and more are now being assisted, and experience to this date indicates that with such training they are now earning three to four times what was previously possible.
The Spirit of the Lord guides this work. This welfare activity is secular activity, expressing itself in terms of rice and beans, of blankets and tents, of clothing and medicine, of employment and education for better employment. But this so-called secular work is but an outward expression of an inward spirit—the Spirit of the Lord, of whom it was said, He “went about doing good” (Acts 10:38).
May heaven prosper this great program, and may heaven’s blessing rest upon all who serve therein, I humbly pray, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

I didn’t fully appreciate how great Tanya was and how much I depended on her until she was gone. But we had knelt at an altar in a holy temple, and someone having the sealing power had pronounced blessings upon us. I have clung to the promise of those blessings. I trust in those promised blessings.
Tanya’s death was a crisis of faith for me. I had to decide, “Do I really believe?” Faith is called a gift of God, but it’s also a choice we make—a choice to believe. I chose to believe, and I found out that Moroni was correct when he wrote that we receive no witness until after the trial of our faith (see Ether 12:6). After the trial, the witness did come. My faith was rewarded with a confirming peace of mind. That’s what has enabled me to go forward.
As my second wife, Becky, says: “We need faith the most when we face a crisis. Going to the Lord really is the only answer. It is the way to cope and hope.”