Gospel Story Finder

When I was young, I worked in my father’s factory during vacations. The first question my father always asked after I received my salary was “What are you going to do with your money?”

I knew the answer and responded, “Pay my tithing and save for my mission.”

After working with him for about eight years and constantly answering his same question, my father figured he had taught me about paying my tithing. What he didn’t realize was that I had learned this important principle in just one weekend. Let me tell you how I learned that principle.

After some events related to a civil war in Central America, my father’s business went bankrupt. He went from about 200 full-time employees to fewer than five sewing operators who worked as needed in the garage of our home. One day during those difficult times, I heard my parents discussing whether they should pay tithing or buy food for the children.

On Sunday, I followed my father to see what he was going to do. After our Church meetings, I saw him take an envelope and put his tithing in it. That was only part of the lesson. The question that remained for me was what we were going to eat.

Early Monday morning, some people knocked on our door. When I opened it, they asked for my father. I called for him, and when he arrived, the visitors told him about an urgent sewing order they needed as quickly as possible. They told him that the order was so urgent that they would pay for it in advance. That day I learned the principles of paying tithing and the blessings that follow.

When I last spoke on this campus, in the fall of 2002, I briefly reviewed the circumstances which brought my father to these islands nearly 65 years ago. Today, I wish to speak of my patriarchal grandparents. My family is certainly no better than yours. I simply know our story and want to tell you of the heritage my grandparents provided their posterity.

They lived in small towns in Idaho and then in Salt Lake City and had two children, a son (my father) and a daughter. After my father established his family in Hawaii, my aunt, who lived in Salt Lake City, married and, in time, was expecting a child. It turned out she had twins; but tragically, she and the twins all died in childbirth in 1951.

As their only descendants lived in Hawaii, my grandparents moved to Oahu when my grandfather professionally retired in 1956. My grandparents were very devoted to one another; especially, my grandfather was particularly solicitous to the needs of my grandmother. He used to often comment that he never wanted to be away from her. He even said he hoped he would die first, and then he would find a way to bring his companion soon thereafter.

They were true Latter-day Saints, completely devoted to the Lord and His Church. They enjoyed decades of service as ordinance workers in the temple of this community. Both of them were physically strong into their mid-80s. Then they began to have health problems; first one and then the other. There came a point where their health would not allow them to travel to their beloved temple in Laie. Even so, they maintained current temple recommends as a symbol of their desire to be true to their covenants.

After a time, my grandmother went into a coma. My grandfather seemed to rebound for awhile, and then one Friday night he suffered a heart attack and died. After caring for the immediate needs of my grandfather, my father went to the bedside of my grandmother, still in her coma condition, with no apparent ability to communicate. He told her that her husband had gone. Immediately, her vital signs began to diminish, and within hours she was gone. After 65 years of marriage, they were blessed to never be apart.

I was serving as my grandparent's bishop at the time. It was my privilege to conduct their double funeral. Each of the participants in the service were their grandchildren. It was not a time of sorrow, but one of profound gratitude for righteous ancestors who left their posterity an example of faith and devotion to those things that are eternal.

Where I live, my family and I are the only members of the Church. I am the only member at my school. I have had to stand up for my belief in Jesus Christ with my friends many times. It is not easy, but I know I need to choose the right. One way I choose the right is by passing the sacrament.
I was nervous to pass the sacrament for the first time. I didn’t want to trip and fall. My friend taught me what to do. He helped me out on my first Sunday. It was also fast Sunday, so I fasted and prayed that I would not make a mistake. I felt happy after I passed the sacrament, and I knew that I did the right thing. I felt at peace.

It was hard being the only Latter-day Saint at my school. It was hard to make friends—and harder still to make friends with the same high standards. So I prayed, and the Lord blessed me with a good friend.
Will became that friend. Once we started hanging out and having a great time, other people began to join us. And we soon found ourselves surrounded by friends.
Will got his driver’s license first in the group, and the rest of us always used to joke that where there’s a Will there’s a way. Will and I and all our other friends went everywhere and did everything together. My teenage years were awesome because of my friendships.
Will wasn’t a Latter-day Saint, but he respected me for my standards. On the rare occasions that a bad word came out of his mouth, he would apologize. If we were with other friends and one of them cursed, he would say, “Hey, we don’t cuss around Jacob.” It felt good to know that I didn’t have to stick up for my standards all by myself. It was good to know Will would stick up for me.

Worthy music also has the power to persuade. We learn this lesson from the writings of John Jaques. He was born in England in 1827, a son of Wesleyan Methodist parents. In his youth John earnestly sought the true religion. He studied intensively with Latter-day Saint missionaries and, at the age of 18, became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
John’s austere father, upset upon hearing this news, wrote: “I wished you . . . to attend the Wesleyan Chapel. They [the Mormons] do not teach you . . . [to] honor and obey your parents. I . . . hope you will give up the idea of belonging to such a party. . . . It is fiction.”
John’s reply, written March 14, 1847, when he was but twenty years of age, included these words: “Dear Father: I would pray . . . that I may understand the things of the Kingdom of God and carry my ideas to you. . . . Since I [joined the Church] my eyes have been opened, and I have been able to understand the truth. I can bear testimony to the truth . . . of the doctrines . . . in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Three years later, at age 23, John Jaques wrote the words to this hymn that we know and love:
Oh say, what is truth? ’Tis the fairest gem
That the riches of worlds can produce,
And priceless the value of truth will be when
The proud monarch’s costliest diadem
Is counted but dross and refuse.
Yes, say, what is truth? ’Tis the brightest prize
To which mortals or Gods can aspire.
Go search in the depths where it glittering lies,
Or ascend in pursuit to the loftiest skies:
’Tis an aim for the noblest desire.
The sceptre may fall from the despot’s grasp
When with winds of stern justice he copes.
But the pillar of truth will endure to the last,
And its firm-rooted bulwarks outstand the rude blast
And the wreck of the fell tyrant’s hopes.
Then say, what is truth? ’Tis the last and the first,
For the limits of time it steps o’er.
Tho the heavens depart and the earth’s fountains burst,
Truth, the sum of existence, will weather the worst,
Eternal, unchanged, evermore.
John stood firm in his conviction of the truth. He remained true and faithful and ultimately served as assistant to the Church historian from 1889 until his death on June 1, 1900.

While this is a lesson that the Lord is constantly teaching me, I learned it most profoundly during what was probably the biggest storm of my life. After a beautiful and relatively easy pregnancy, complications from the delivery brought me to the edge of life. I lay in the hospital for a month, only partially aware of what was going on and closer to death than I actually then realized. I literally could do nothing on my own. I remember the day that I first felt lucid enough to get perspective on it all and I wrote myself a list so I wouldn’t forget the moment of pure inspiration. Do you think my list had groceries on it or work deadlines? Nope. It said, “Everyone has been amazing. Love them and remember that. Remember that you thought you were going to die. Life is good…live it, be grateful for it. Listen. Simplicity. Slow down, relax, be less worried. Be authentic. Miracles have happened.” But some of my favorites that relate specifically to what we are talking about today are: “Guess what, the world didn’t stop without you!” (Meaning, I realized that I didn’t have to do everything I had thought was so essential before). Another was, “sometimes you just have to say, ‘oh well’”! (Which was very uncharacteristic of me at the time). And finally, “The Lord and Heavenly Father know…follow them.” In the center of it all, in the eye of that storm, the Lord healed me, and not just physically. He taught me the things that mattered most. My family who made extraordinary sacrifices, my health, my job, the priesthood, angels and prayers. I saw that I had been “careful and troubled about many things” but not all of them were needful.

Elder Jack H. Goaslind, who was named after his father, feels that it is an honor to carry his father’s name and declares that “he was a great man.” His father was his bishop for many years.
“Dad was a hardworking individual,” Elder Goaslind said, “and he taught me great lessons in life. He wasn’t wealthy, by any means, but he was a very good manager of money. I don’t remember his going into debt for anything other than our house. At a very young age I became a newspaper delivery boy and continued my route for six years. My father encouraged me to save the money that I earned and to spend it wisely. He was always teaching us by his example.
“Dad was always concerned with others. When he served as bishop and people came to meetings, he rarely gave them just a handshake. He always put his arm around them or gave them a pat on the back. He was extremely friendly and warm. If there is anything that I learned from him, it was that he gave his life to others. He never said no to any opportunity to help others. He served as bishop for a long time; he was the bishop who called me to serve a mission.
“Mother carried a heavy responsibility because of Dad’s involvement in his business and the Church. She was a good cook, and she enjoyed working in the home. Sometimes we would come home from school and read on the kitchen blackboard, ‘I’m home; find me.’ She wrote that to assure us that she was there, and we would play some funny games trying to find her. Mother is a very loving person with a fun sense of humor.
“Another thing that I remember about my mother was her neatness. Our home was always tidy, and she insisted that we always be well dressed and that our clothes be clean and neat.
“I also learned about service from my mother. She served as a Primary worker for most of twenty-seven years. She was devoted to my father, and their companionship provided a good example for the foundation of my own marriage. They were a very loving and understanding couple. If I were to pay a tribute to my mother, it would be for her loving kindness and for the affection she had for us children and for my father.”
The oldest of three boys, Elder Goaslind recalls, “We did a lot of things together as a family. I have some home movies of my dad and me playing football in the backyard. Dad provided many opportunities for us to do things together.”
Elder Goaslind enjoyed all sports but became most proficient in snow skiing. “I started skiing at the age of five and recall going up the mountain by holding on to a rope tow. The friends I skied with were neighbors, and I was glad for their patience with me as I learned. I loved the sport, and as a young man,” he related, “I was a possible candidate for the 1948 United States Olympic ski team. In those days, if you were chosen for that team, you made a four-year commitment with them. However, I would become of age to go on a mission in 1949, so it was a very hard decision for me. I remember my father encouraging me to fast and pray about it. After praying, I decided to go on a mission rather than to compete for a place on the ski team. I believe that if there is any decision that I have made with wisdom in my life, it was that one.
“Several years ago I went up to Canada, where I had served my mission, and saw my mission president for the first time in thirty years. We greeted each other with a warm embrace. And after visiting with him, I thought of how much I owed him. The influence of a mission and a good mission president is invaluable.”
Remembering his youth, Elder Goaslind said, “There were others who had a great influence on me. Lou Love was probably one of the greatest Scoutmasters that there ever was. He did everything that he could to see that we boys achieved in Scouting, advanced in the Aaronic Priesthood, and grew up with a testimony of the gospel. If we forgot a Scout meeting, Brother Love would come and pick us up in his truck for the next one. He was a man who truly cared, and it was easy to love him because we knew that he loved us.”
When Elder Goaslind was a young boy, he fell and hit his head while skiing. “That morning when I came home,” he recalled, “my eyes were very dark. The next morning when I tried to get up, I could hardly move, so my parents called the doctor and took me to the hospital. It was determined that I had a concussion. I still remember the blessing that my father gave me, and shortly after the blessing I regained complete mobility. That priesthood blessing had a real effect on my life, not only because I was healed but also because I learned firsthand that the Lord answers prayers.
“I encourage you children to get close to your Heavenly Father, and one of the finest ways to do that is to really talk to Him. He will hear and answer your prayers in His own way and in His own time. I would encourage you not to be discouraged but to put your trust in the Lord, especially when you have important decisions to make.”

Nathan and his mother were driving home from the store when something scary happened. They had been waiting at a red light, and when it turned green, they started into the intersection. Nathan looked past his mother and saw a car speeding toward them from the left. There was nothing they could do. The other car crashed into them with the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass.
Suddenly everything was quiet. He looked at his mother and saw that her arm was hurt. “Don’t worry, Nathan,” she said, “I’m OK. Are you all right?”
“I think so.”
They watched as the man from the other car angrily walked around the car and opened Nathan’s door. “Lady, you ran that red light! Look what you’ve done to my car! I’m going to sue you.” Just then a police car arrived, and the man went to talk to the policeman.
Some people who had been watching came over and helped Nathan and his mother out of the car. Nathan’s mother looked around at the group. “Did any of you see what happened?”
One lady stepped forward and said, “I saw you waiting at the red light. You didn’t go until it had turned green. That was when he hit you.”
Other people said that they had seen the accident, and Mother asked, “Would you testify in court about what you saw?” When several of them said that they would, she asked them to write their names and addresses and phone numbers down and give them to the policeman.
Two other police cars and an ambulance had pulled up, and one of the officers started talking to Mother. He noticed her hurt arm and had her and Nathan taken to the hospital.
Later that evening, as Nathan nestled into his comfortable bed, his parents came in to kiss him good night. Mother’s arm was in a white cast and was supported by a sling around her neck. Father swept Nathan up into his arms and said, “I’m so thankful to Heavenly Father that neither of you was seriously injured.”
Nathan gave Father a hug. “I’m scared, Dad. That man said the accident was our fault.”
Mother reached out and took Nathan’s hand. “Don’t be afraid. There were several witnesses who will testify, or bear testimony, that we waited for the light to turn green. The judge will decide who was at fault.”
Nathan’s parents knelt in prayer with him, then tucked him in bed again, and he soon drifted off to sleep.
A few weeks later they drove to the courthouse for the trial. Nathan was nervous. How would the judge know the truth when he hadn’t seen the accident? As they walked into the courtroom, Nathan recognized the man who had hit them. The first policeman and some of the witnesses were already seated.
The judge asked the policeman to come to the witness stand. The policeman showed a big board with a diagram of two streets crossing each other. First he used drawings to show how the cars had collided. Next he showed the judge some photographs that had been taken of the accident.
After he had gone back to his seat, the judge asked the man who had hit them to come to the stand and tell about the accident. The man said, “I was driving along Thirty-fourth Street, the light was green, and suddenly her car drove right in front of my car. There was nothing I could do. I tried to stop, but there wasn’t time.”
The judge told him that he could sit down. Then the judge asked Mother to come to the stand. After she explained what had happened, he said, “We have conflicting stories here. Are there any witnesses to this accident?”
The policeman gave the judge a list of people’s names, and he called each of them to the stand to give their testimony. Every one of them said that the man had been going very fast and had gone through a red light and hit Mother’s car.
The judge looked through some papers, then made his decision. He looked first at the man. “You are guilty of speeding and running a red light. You are the cause of this accident. You will have to pay the woman’s medical fees and the cost of having her car fixed. You will also have to pay a fine of seven hundred dollars in court costs.
Nathan was relieved. The judge knew the truth because of the witnesses’ testimonies.
The next Sunday morning, at testimony meeting, Nathan realized how important testimonies are. Each person who stood up told how he or she knew that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ live.
Nathan had a warm feeling about his testimony. He wanted to bear it often so that others would know the truth of the gospel, just as the judge had known the truth about the accident.

When gold was discovered in California in January of 1848, men of the Mormon Battalion were there and participated in the discovery. Completing their contract, they came to the Salt Lake Valley to join their families. Some of them brought with them gold; and in the hard and desperate days that followed, particularly in the bitter winter of 1848–49, many wanted to go to California where life was easier and gold was to be picked from the riverbeds. In that time of gloom, Brigham Young stood before the people in the old Bowery on Temple Square and said:

Some have asked me about going. I have told them that God has appointed this place for the gathering of his Saints, and you will do better right here than you will by going to the gold mines. . . .

We have been kicked out of the frying pan into the fire, out of the fire into the middle of the floor, and here we are and here we will stay. God has shown me that this is the spot to locate his people, and here is where they will prosper. . . .

. . . We shall build a city and a temple to the Most High God in this place. We will extend our settlements to the east and west, to the north and to the south, and we will build towns and cities by the hundreds, and thousands of the Saints will gather in from the nations of the earth. This will become the great highway of the nations. Kings and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth will visit us here, while the wicked and ungodly will envy us our comfortable homes and possessions. [Autobiography of James S. Brown (Life of a Pioneer), pp. 119–23, cited by Preston Nibley, Brigham Young: The Man and His Work (Salt Lake City: Deseret News Press, 1936), pp. 127–28]

What a remarkable statement under such circumstances! My heart goes out to those who were cold and hungry that winter of 1849. I am confident there was much of grumbling and criticism, and understandably so. But how marvelous when a man looked beyond the winter and spoke as a prophet, under the power of the Holy Spirit, of better days to come. Those days have come. This has become one of the great highways of the nations. Millions come to Temple Square. There are hundreds of flights daily in and out of here. Kings and emperors and the noble and wise of the earth visit us here. There’s scarcely a week when we do not have some prominent world figure call on us.

Two years ago, the Lord touched my dear mother’s heart, which helped her decide to receive the ordinance of baptism. I had waited for that day to take place for almost 35 years. In order for her to make that decision, many members of the Church truly ministered to her as Christ would. One Sunday, she felt she should go to church. She followed the prompting. While she sat on the front row and waited for the sacrament service to begin, a four-year-old boy stood in front of her and looked at her. She greeted him with a smile. The little boy left her presence abruptly and walked back to his own seat, which was on the other side of the row where my mother was seated. This little boy picked up something from his seat and came back and handed my mother a hymnbook and walked back to his seat. My mother noticed a hymnbook was placed on every other chair in the chapel. She could have easily picked one up from the chair next to her. However, she was very impressed with the boy’s innocent act of kindness, which he had learned in his home and at church. It was a tender moment for her. She had a strong impression that God was inviting her to come and follow the Savior. She felt she should be baptized. This little boy did not seek recognition for what he did, but he simply did his best to live the word of God and to love his neighbor. His kindness created an important change of heart in my mother.

“Here I am, Grandfather!” shouted Barbie as she jumped out of the parked car in front of her Grandfather’s farm. “What’s the big job you want me to do?”
When Grandfather had called last night, he said the sap was flowing, it was sugar time, and he needed Father’s help. But he told Barbie he had a special and very important job for her too.
“You’re just in time,” Grandfather said as he picked Barbie up and whirled her around.
“What do you want me to do?” Barbie asked eagerly.
“You’ll see,” answered Grandfather.
He hurried toward the barn. Soon he came out leading two large powerful horses. The horses pulled a sleigh with a big tank on it that Grandfather called a gathering rig.
“You’re going to ride on the rig,” Grandfather said as he gave Barbie a boost up behind the horses.
This is my job, thought Barbie. Grandfather needs me to drive the gathering rig.
Swinging tin pails, Grandfather and Father started walking down the narrow snow-covered road.
Before Barbie could say giddap, the horses tugged at their harnesses and the creaky sleigh slowly slid along the road. Down one hill and up another went the horses, their warm breath turning misty in the chilled air.
Soon they came to a grove of maple trees. Sunlight flickered through the bare branches down to shiny buckets hanging on the trees.
“Whoa!” commanded Barbie, but the horses kept moving.
Grandfather and Father stopped at a tree where two buckets were hanging. They emptied the buckets into their big pails and then went on to other trees to empty more buckets. When their gathering pails were full, they stood by the road and waited for the sleigh so they could pour the sap into the tank.
Barbie jumped down into the snow. “I thought my job was to steer the horses,” she said. “But they don’t pay any attention to me. They already know what to do.”
“Smart horses,” commented Grandfather with a smile.
“Then what is my special job?” asked Barbie.
“You’ll see,” Grandfather promised.
Barbie tagged along to the maple trees. She spotted a small tree with a small bucket. This must be what Grandfather meant, she thought. This bucket is just my size.
Barbie tried to lift the bucket, but it wouldn’t budge. She tried again, but it was too full and too heavy. So she sat down on a tree stump and listened to the sap drip-drop into the buckets while Grandfather and Father poured more sap into the gathering rig. I’mnot big enough to help them, Barbie thought.
“It’s full!” announced Grandfather. “Come, Barbie. We’re going to the sugar house.”
They all climbed on the sleigh. Without being told, the horses began to move down the slope to the sugar house.
“Hello, Ben,” Grandfather said to the man who was waiting for them there. “This is Barbie. She’s going to do that special job for us.”
Barbie was tingling with excitement as she watched Ben attach a hose to the tank to drain the sap into a huge wooden vat.
Holding her hand, Grandfather took Barbie into the sugar house. They entered a room filled with a cloud of steam and the odor of burning pine logs mingled with the smell of something sweet. Barbie could see long trays of sap bubbling and popping over the stoves.
“Here is Barbie, Henry,” said Grandfather to a thin man who was stirring the boiling sap. “Are you ready for her to do her job?”
“Almost,” answered Henry. He scooped a dipper full of hot liquid and lifted it. Tilting the dipper, he watched the ribbon of syrup return to the pan.
“Now!” he said.
“Now?” asked Barbie in surprise. “But where is Grandfather?”
“Out here, Barbie,” Grandfather called.
Barbie ran through the door and stopped. Grandfather was standing beside a tub heaped with snow. Father and Ben were there too. Henry brought a newly filled dipper to Grandfather, who poured it on the snow. The cooled syrup changed to thick candy.
Grandfather handed a tiny wooden paddle to Barbie.
“Your job,” said Grandfather, “is to be the official taster.”
Barbie carefully scooped up the maple sugar candy and slowly tasted it. Then in her most expert voice she announced, “It’s delicious!”
Grandfather nodded his head in approval.
“M-m-m-m,” Barbie said as she took another taste of the sweet surprise. Then she looked at Grandfather. “I’ll be glad to do this job for you every year,” she promised.

A few years ago I was visiting in Brazil, where a new mission president had just arrived. He was excited about returning to his old field of labor in the mission field, the same area in which he had served as a nineteen-year-old missionary. He told us he would never forget his first day in the mission field, for it taught him a great lesson about using his talents to teach the gospel.

He and his senior companion were assigned to open a new city some distance from the mission headquarters. As they arrived in this new city and walked down the street, they passed a church with a minister standing at the front door. As they walked by the church, the minister went in and called to his whole congregation to follow him out into the street. There they followed the missionaries and started calling them names; then they became more violent and started to throw rocks at them.

The young elder was excited about this experience—his first day in the mission field and already he was being stoned, he thought. Then, a big rock suddenly hit him squarely in the middle of the back, and his feeling changed to anger. Before entering the mission field he had been quite a baseball pitcher; and in the flush of anger he wheeled around, grabbed the first rock he could find on the ground, reared back in his famous pitching pose, and just ready to let the rock fly at the crowd when suddenly he realized why he was there. He had not been sent all the way to Brazil to throw rocks at people; he was there to teach them the gospel. But what was he to do with the rock in his hand? If he dropped it to the ground, they would think it a sign of weakness and probably continue to throw rocks at them. Yet he could not throw it at the crowd. Then he saw a telephone post some distance away. That was the way to save face! He reared back and let the rock fly directly at the telephone post, hitting it squarely in the middle.

The people in the crowd took a couple of steps back. They suddenly realized that that rock probably could have hit any one of them right between the eyes. Their mood changed; instead of throwing rocks at the missionaries, they began to throw them at the telephone post. After this incident, every time the elder went down that street he was challenged to a rock-throwing contest. The rock-throwing contests led to discussions of the gospel, which led to conversions, which led to the establishment of a branch of the Church in that community. Do you see the talents that we have but we never consider using to help build the Kingdom? I think we ought to use the talents our Father in Heaven has given to us to help this great work grow.

Marcelino Tossen believed in God, read the Bible, and enjoyed talking about religion, so when the full-time missionaries knocked on his apartment door one warm January day in 1992, he invited them in. That decision changed his life.
“Elder Zanni and Elder Halls worked under the impressions of the Spirit,” recalls Marcelino. Before that first discussion had even ended, the elders told him that he would be baptized into the Church, even telling him the exact day he would be baptized.
“I’m not going to get baptized,” Marcelino countered. “I want only to talk to you.”
The missionaries gave him a Book of Mormon and asked him to read several verses and pray that night about their message. He did so but felt nothing.
During a subsequent discussion, however, Elder Zanni asked him, “Would it be all right if we prayed so you can ask Heavenly Father if what we have been teaching you is true?”
As he prayed, Marcelino says, “my heart began to burn fervently within me. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before. I couldn’t even finish my prayer, and I arose from my knees.”
Elder Zanni asked Marcelino if he had felt anything during his prayer. When Marcelino told him no, the missionary said, “I felt the Spirit very strong. It’s strange that you didn’t feel anything.”
When he admitted what he had felt, Marcelino says, “the elders read from the Doctrine and Covenants, telling me that when the Lord wants us to know if something is right, He will send His peace or make our heart burn within us [see D&C 6:23; 9:8]. That day was a turning point for me.”
From then on, the Spirit labored with him and testified of the truth through numerous spiritual experiences. “I’d feel the burning again while I was alone in my apartment,” Marcelino says. “When I would open the window, I’d see the elders nearby on a corner teaching people about the Church. I could feel when they were close, and I began to take seriously what they were teaching me.”
Marcelino received a warm welcome when he began attending church. He was baptized a short while later on April 22—the exact day the missionaries had named three months earlier. Today, after serving nine years as president of the Ushuaia district, he serves as the second counselor in the presidency of the Buenos Aires north mission.
“When we read that the Lord will ‘send forth [His] word unto the ends of the earth’ [D&C 112:4], that’s Ushuaia,” says President Tossen. “Ushuaia is the end of the earth. But for those like me who found the gospel here, it’s the beginning of everything. Here you’ll find the lighthouse at the end of the world. But here is where I found faith and the lighthouse of the Lord.”

A single friend of ours who lives alone broke her shoulder and needed help. Word soon spread throughout her ward, and ward members brought dinners by the dozen so that she had to tell them to stop because her refrigerator was overflowing. One of them was a nearly blind sister who crossed a busy street with a hot dinner on a tray. Another sister volunteered to help clean her apartment. Seeing our friend’s reluctance, she countered, “How else can I show you that I love you?” Another sister who helped with grocery shopping saw the bright side of our friend’s accident as she pointed out, “This opportunity has brought us close to each other again!” These sisters all had the vision of the work the Savior had in mind for them to do.

After I was baptized, the Church became my world. I loved being at church with the other members. I remember many times being there on Saturdays with the deacons, cleaning the chapel and preparing it for Sunday. I also participated in Mutual activities. From seeing the missionaries in Primary and at home, I decided early in my life to go on a mission. When I served my mission, I was very happy. I served two years in the west of Mexico.

Children, obey the Lord’s commandments. Decide now to go on a mission and to marry in the temple. If you decide in your minds and hearts now, while you are young, to do these things, you will be good missionaries, good spouses, and good parents. I believe that what the world needs most is good mothers and good fathers guiding their families.

Children, keep away from those things that would separate you from Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ—things like lying, stealing, using drugs, violating the Word of Wisdom, doing whatever the prophets have taught us are wrong.

Be careful in choosing your friends. Good friends help us to do good things; bad friends influence us to do bad things.

Prepare now for a mission. Keep yourself morally clean. If you keep yourself clean and worthy in every way, if you take the sacrament worthily every Sunday, you will be very powerful missionaries and later you will be leaders in the Church.

I love the children of the earth. With the power and authority that I have as a General Authority, I bless you that you can gain all the blessings that your parents want for you. Where you live is not important, nor the color of your skin or your eyes or your hair. Everyone on earth is a son or daughter of God, and He wants us to return to Him as clean and innocent and worthy as we were when we were born.

“My father was a great, honorable, and good man. I have much admiration for him. He died very suddenly when I was fifteen. All of my growing-up years he was in the bishopric. Ten years after he was in the bishopric of the old Adams Ward, I served in the bishopric of that same ward.”
Elder Osborn’s father’s death was the hardest thing he had to face during his boyhood. His brother William said, “After Father died, Mother, Spencer, and another brother moved to a new neighborhood away from the home and friends they had known for many years. It was a lonesome time for Spencer. I lived about two miles away and built a basketball standard for Spencer in my driveway. He would walk over to my house and play basketball by himself. But even during this difficult time, Spencer was always interested in the Church; he was a solid kid all through his life.”

The line of 31 horsemen snaked along the steep, rocky ridge that cupped a narrow beach on the northern shore of the Great Salt Lake in Utah. Below them, on the margin of sand, a sheepherder and his dogs moved their sheep from Squaw Springs.
The horsemen dismounted, and slipping and sliding down the hillside, led their horses to a large cave overlooking the water. After a 10-mile ride across the Promontory Mountains to the east, they’d arrived at their destination, a former Indian wintering ground.
The Explorers and Venturers of the Corinne Second Ward tethered their horses and prepared to eat lunch. With them were their advisers, Bill and Bob Smoot; several fathers and young brothers; Bishop Royal Norman and a counselor; the service and activities committee chairman; and their guide, veteran horseman Jesse Nicholas.
Because Corinne is a close-knit, rural ward, the young men sometimes enjoy sharing a variety of super activities with others in the ward. “We invite the young brothers along so they can get a taste of Exploring and look forward to it,” adviser Bill Smoot said.
This particular trek to the pair of caves formerly used by the Shoshone Indians took place during the Christmas holidays. A mild winter had left the area bare of snow, and the unseasonably high temperatures, ranging in the 40s, made horseback riding a pleasure.
This journey began one Wednesday morning when the youth met at the Smoot dairy farm to help load the stock into trucks and horse trailers. Bishop Norman, driving another truck filled with 10 horses, met them at the farm. They assembled for prayer and advice from the bishop. “Please no bullets in your pistols or rifles. We don’t want any shooting accidents, and you can load your guns when we get to a suitable place. Let’s remember to treat the property with respect so we’ll be welcomed back.”
After prayer they went by caravan the 50 miles to the Nick Chournos sheep corrals in Booze Valley near Promontory. The horses were unloaded, saddled and bridled, and everyone rode up Whittaker Pass, led by Brother Nicholas. Three of the horses carried double, including the bishop’s. The bishop explained that super activities such as this one have kept the Explorer program going well in the ward for the past 19 years, the length of service of the adviser. He noted that about 85 percent of the young men eventually go on missions. “During one five-year period, every one of them went on missions. I feel activities such as this help keep them interested in the Church.”
The Venturer adviser observed that the activities of the two groups have helped to cement father-and-son relationships. He said several dads have been encouraged into activity as a result.
Six mule deer sprang from under the cedars halfway up Whittaker Pass and bounded up the slope opposite the gully. The riders paused to watch. Some of the less conditioned—riders and horses—rested before moving on.
Bill Smoot, Explorer adviser, said that every other year they spend a week on a pack trip in the Uinta Mountains east of Corinne. “That way every Explorer gets at least one pack trip,” he said.
Super activities are not only events for the Explorers and Venturers, the adviser emphasized. During the spring the young men painted three houses belonging to widows in the ward and participated in other projects.
During the descent through South Canyon on the other side of Whittaker Pass, the horsemen broke into groups, with the slower horses bringing up the rear. Occasionally they stopped to admire the rugged winter beauty of the mountains.
One of the riders said another super event planned for the year will be a Tin Lizzie Derby involving all the posts in the stake. Each post will buy a car, an old clunker, for a nominal sum, get it into running condition if necessary, and compete in various skill tests.
“After that,” the Venturer adviser said, “they will sell the car and return the money to the respective posts. The goal is to see which unit can get the most money. They may advertise the car in the paper, sell it to a dealer, or break it down for parts,” he said.
Past activities have included visits to the Utah State Prison near Salt Lake City, to nearby military installations, and to the air traffic control facility at Salt Lake International Airport. They have boated on lakes, visited caverns, and attended rodeos.
These activities have served as confidence builders for some and have helped others better understand one another. This has resulted in a closer unity among the post members. In addition to opportunities for spiritual growth, the activities have kept them physically fit. Some of this unity and activity is demonstrated in the wrestling prowess of a half-dozen young men in the ward. Corinne Second Ward’s Aaronic Priesthood holders represent 50 percent of the local high school wrestling team. Some have won recognition in AAU-sanctioned wrestling events.
Because they come from a rural ward, they plan well in advance so their farm and stock work is taken care of in their absence. During the summer they have to plan around irrigation turns. Fortunately, there are often enough family members to take up the slack while they’re gone.
They rode several miles down the canyon through pasture country, then over the ridge surrounding Squaw Springs where the two caves were located. Brother Nicholas said artifacts found in the Indian caves have been removed for further study by a university. Thus visits to the caves don’t damage archaeological investigations. Brother Nicholas noted the caves were used during the winters by Shoshone Indians.
“One of them told my grandfather about the caves, but he never could find them. Tom Whittaker did, though, and that’s how I know of them.” He continued, “That Indian said that when he was a youngster, the entire band was trapped inside the upper cave by an enemy tribe. They got mighty dry before they were able to get out.”
The riders dismounted at the upper cave, and the lunches were unpacked from the saddlebags. There were several smashed sandwiches and flattened dessert packages, but all was eaten with good humor. A number of items were shared with others, and there was food left over.
After exploring the cave they carefully packed any litter into their saddlebags. The young men mounted again and rode down the hill where they investigated the lower cave before turning home.
Halfway back up South Canyon they met the property owner who was conferring with one of his herders. They exchanged greetings and rode around the grazing sheep. Because sheep scatter easily, owners don’t like visitors in the area. The Explorers had asked permission to travel through, so there was no problem.
Back at the sheep corrals the young men engaged in an impromptu target match, utilizing the soft drink cans retrieved from the cave. As they practiced with .22 caliber pistols and rifles, Bishop Norman said, “Had there not been sheep around we could have stopped along the way and practiced.”
After the horses were led into the trucks and the last round was fired, the Explorers and their guests loaded up for the return trip home.
Bill Smoot summed up the value of this trip and other super activities. “They help us grow closer together, boys and leaders. Every young man in our ward is active in the Church, and every leader knows each of the boys well. Part of the reason for that is because we plan regular super activities.”

Recently my husband, Mel, and I met a volunteer tour guide named Mollie Lenthal as we visited a museum in Australia. We found out that Mollie, a lovely woman in her 70s, has no children and has never married. She is an only child, and her parents have been deceased for many years. Her closest relatives are two cousins who live on another continent. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed with the Spirit testifying to me, almost as if Heavenly Father were speaking: “Mollie is not alone! Mollie is my daughter! I am her Father! She is a very important daughter in my family, and she is never alone!”
Just as the Lord has testified to me that He has not forgotten His precious daughter Mollie Lenthal, I testify that He has not forgotten you! Whatever sin or weakness or pain or struggle or trial you are going through, He knows and understands those very moments. He loves you! And He will carry you through those moments, just as He did Mary and Martha. He has paid the price that He might know how to succor you. Cast your burdens upon Him. Tell your Heavenly Father how you feel. Tell Him about your pain and afflictions and then give them to Him. Search the scriptures daily. There you will also find great solace and help.

I asked, "Alex, do you have any idea how much impact you and your book have had on the people of the world?"

He answered, "I think so."

I said, "I haven't been involved in Family History Administration too many years, but it seems to me there is an invisible hand guiding this work, bringing people like you and scientific developments and special events together toward a pre-determined course."

He slammed his fist on his knee and said, "That's right! I felt the guiding hand of the Lord."

How appropriate that one year after the broadcast of Roots, in June 1978, the historic revelation was announced that all the children of God could enjoy the full blessings of the Priesthood.

One other incredible example of the "invisible hand" operating upon the hearts and minds of people: We cultivated relationships with the USSR for about 30 years in an effort to microfilm vital records. In 1989 one of the employees of the Family History Department, Kahlile Mehr, was in conversation with Dr. Patricia Grimsted of Harvard University, recognized as the top scholar on Russian Archival records. Brother Mehr expressed strong interest in the church being able to microfilm public and church records in the Soviet Union. She told Kahlile that in her opinion this church would never have access to Russian archival records. The Lord thought differently.

As President of the Genealogical Society of Utah, accompanied by Sister Clarke and our European acquisition Manager, Lynn Carson, we traveled to Moscow, Russia in April 1992. Sitting around a table in the offices of the former Central Committee of the Communist Party located at the Kremlin, I signed a contract with Dr. Rudolph Pikhoia, Chairman of the Committee of Archival Affairs for the Republic of Russia. This contract authorized the Genealogical Society of Utah to microfilm vital records in 200 regional archives throughout Russia. What in 1989 was said to be impossible was now reality. "Is anything too hard for the Lord?"

An example from Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables, though fictional, has always touched and inspired me. Near the beginning of the story, Bishop Bienvenu gives food and overnight shelter to the homeless Jean Valjean, who has just been released from 19 years in prison for having stolen a loaf of bread to feed his sister’s starving children. Hardened and embittered, Valjean rewards Bishop Bienvenu’s kindness by stealing his silver goods. Later detained by suspicious gendarmes, Valjean falsely claims the silver was a gift to him. When the gendarmes drag him back to the bishop’s house, to Valjean’s great surprise, Bishop Bienvenu confirms his story and for good effect says, “‘But! I gave you the candlesticks also, which are silver like the rest, and would bring two hundred francs. Why did you not take them along with your plates?’ …
“The bishop approached him, and said, in a low voice:
“‘Forget not, never forget that you have promised me to use this silver to become an honest man.’
“Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of this promise, stood confounded. The bishop … continued, solemnly:
“‘Jean Valjean, my brother: you belong no longer to evil, but to good. It is your soul that I am buying for you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God!’”
Jean Valjean indeed became a new man, an honest man and a benefactor to many. Throughout his life he kept the two silver candlesticks to remind him that his life had been redeemed for God.6