Gospel Story Finder

Maria had been less active for more than 20 years. A few months ago, we spent a couple of hours with her in our home, exploring her family through census and other records. At one point she burst into tears exclaiming, “I’ve learned more about my family in two hours than I’ve known in my whole life!”
At the end of our time together, we introduced to her the Relatives Around Me feature of the FamilyTree app. It turned out that my husband and I both are distantly related to Maria. She burst into tears again, saying she had thought she was alone. She never knew she had family in the area. A few weeks later Maria met with our bishop. She is now working on preparing for the temple, and she has met many “new” cousins in our ward!
Carol Riner Everett, North Carolina, USA

Have you ever been stuck, wondering whether you should move forward with your life or wait for the Lord to put things in place for you? If so, welcome to my world. But one experience helped me get unstuck as I trusted in the Lord.
During my first year of college, my professor mentioned a job opportunity for a copyediting position at the school. Having recently discovered my passion for editing, I wanted this job—badly. But I decided to wait and apply when I wasn’t taking classes.
When I went to apply that winter, I was disappointed to find that the team was no longer hiring for the position. I figured I had waited too long and missed my chance. Yet I still had this nagging feeling that I was supposed to have that job. I wondered why things hadn’t worked out when Heavenly Father seemed to be encouraging me toward it. Had I not acted soon enough?
As I pondered the ways Heavenly Father helps me receive revelation, I realized that not receiving this job could have been a blessing to allow me to become more than I was before. Perhaps I needed to learn more before I was ready.
I decided to work on developing my skills, and although I was worried about postponing my application for the next few semesters, the Spirit assured me it was the right decision.
As I waited for the job to open again, I learned more about what editors do and strengthened my understanding of the English language. I gained confidence in my editing abilities and even picked up some other skills. Turns out, I needed all these skills before I would be seriously considered for the job.
Looking back, I know the Lord directed me during this time to help me develop the skills I needed to become a better editor. If I hadn’t felt prompted to seek the job in the first place, I might not have put so much effort into becoming a better editor.
The Lord has multiplied me. When I applied for the job again, I presented an updated résumé noting all the new skills I had gained and was hired within the week. In the end, the Lord knew more than I did about when I would be ready for this job.
The Lord needed me to be in the right place at the right time with the right combination of skills and knowledge to bless me with what I desired. Elder J. Devn Cornish, an emeritus General Authority Seventy, taught: “He knows each of us individually, and He loves us, every one. He wants to bless us.”1
If I had known when I didn’t get the job in the first place that I just needed to “rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for him” (Psalm 37:7), I might have noticed sooner that the Lord was helping me shape myself into a more competent editor.
Eventually the timing was right. And when I got the job, I absolutely loved it. I found new friends in my team members, and we grew to trust one another’s judgment and help one another both at work and in life in general. I was so grateful for the growth Heavenly Father encouraged me to experience beforehand. Without it, I wouldn’t have been ready for this job!

A young college student found herself almost overwhelmed by personal and family difficulties. “It was a time of grief and loneliness,” she recalls. “Then, Lila, a young woman who served with me in a ward calling, began stopping by my apartment to visit with me. Again and again her visits came at the very moments when I felt nearest despair. Her friendship gave me the courage to go on—not only because it lifted me—but because it showed me that my Heavenly Father knew my need.”

Annie and Gerard have always tried to teach their children the gospel in ways that would make an impression. A year after their baptism, when their two children were ages two and three, they prepared to go to the temple to be sealed as a family. In a family home evening, the parents illustrated what it means to be sealed in the temple. Holding four match sticks, representing each member of the family, they dropped them onto a table. Of course, the matches scattered. They explained that the family could be like that if death separated them. Then the matches were bound with thread and dropped again. This time they stayed together. The children were told that their sealing would be like that—nothing in the world, not even death, could ever separate them if they obeyed the commandments and worked together.
Three-year-old Christophe was very impressed with the lesson and waited impatiently for the day they would go to the temple. When the day finally arrived, two serious little children entered the sealing room with their parents. The ceremony was beautiful. But as the family was leaving the temple, a perplexed little boy, almost in tears, asked, “But Mama, when are they going to tie us together?” Another lesson on temple sealings quickly followed!

Six-year-old Taylor loved stickers—big ones with lots of colors, and little ones that you could barely see. Sometimes he put them on papers or notebooks. And sometimes he put them on himself. Once he put an orange sticker on his arm, and a blue one on his chin. Another day he put a dog sticker on the toe of each tennis shoe. Today Taylor had a new sticker. He put it on his shirt, right in the middle of his chest.
Megan, his older sister, noticed the new sticker. “Where did you get that one?”
“Off the new socks Mom bought me yesterday,” Taylor said. “Isn’t it great?”
Megan leaned close enough to read the sticker on her brother’s shirt and began to chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Taylor asked defensively.
“It’s your sticker. It’s so—”
Taylor covered the sticker with his hand. “What’s the matter with it?”
Mom heard the discussion and came into the room. “What’s going on here?”
“Megan’s making fun of my sticker.”
“No, I wasn’t,” Megan responded. “I promise. It’s just so cute! Look at what it says, Mom.”
Mom lifted Taylor’s hand from the sticker and read aloud, “Stain-resistant sole.”
“What does it mean?” Taylor asked.
Mom answered with a smile, “It means that some kind of protection was put on the bottom of your socks so that they won’t get dirty as easily.”
“Don’t you get it, Mom? Taylor has a stain-resistant soul! S-o-u-l!” Megan chuckled again.
“I don’t want people laughing at me,” Taylor said, starting to rip the sticker off.
Mom reached out to him. “We’re not, Taylor. You see, soul can be spelled two ways. One way, s-o-l-e, means the bottom of your foot—that’s what the sock that this sticker was on protects. The other spelling, s-o-u-l, means you—your body and spirit together. So when Megan said that you have a stain-resistant soul, that’s good. It means that you are trying your best to do what is right and keep your soul—your body and spirit—clean.”
Taylor smiled at Megan and decided to leave the sticker on. “May I go outside to play now?”
“Sure, but come right home for dinner when I call you.”
Taylor ran out the back door and saw his brother’s skateboard. His brother didn’t like other people riding it without his permission, but he was away for the weekend. Great! Taylor thought. He put one foot on the skateboard, then thought of his sticker and took his foot off the board. He wanted to stay a stain-resistant soul.
He looked up and saw his best friend, Colby, running out of his garage. “Colby—wait up!”
“You’re just in time,” Colby said excitedly. “I’m going to light some firecrackers.”
Taylor stopped. “My mom says I’m not supposed to light matches unless a grown-up’s with me.”
“She won’t know. Come on—it’ll be fun!”
Taylor started to follow his friend. Then he thought of his sticker. Would lighting firecrackers keep my soul stain-resistant? No. Maybe there’s something else we can do. He said, “I don’t want to do that, Colby. Let’s play on the trampoline.”
Colby liked Taylor’s idea, so the two boys jumped on the trampoline until Taylor’s mom called him. Taylor hurried home.
“Wash your hands,” Mom reminded him as he rushed into the kitchen. He went into the bathroom and turned on the water. He saw Taffy, their cat. She hated water, and Taylor loved to tease her by splashing water at her. But just as he aimed his wet hands at her, he remembered his sticker. He couldn’t tease the cat and stay a stain-resistant soul, so he dried his hands, and ran to the kitchen.
His dad was just coming in from the other direction. “How’s my big boy?” Dad gave Taylor a hug. “Hey, what’s this on your shirt? Another sticker?”
“Oh, that’s a special sticker,” Mom said.
“He got it off his new socks,” Megan added.
“Stain-resistant sole?” Dad asked. “Why is that so special?”
“Don’t you get it, Dad?” Taylor blurted out. He thought about how he had resisted riding on his brother’s skateboard without permission, how he had resisted playing with fire at Colby’s house, and how he had even resisted teasing Taffy. “I’m a stain-resistant s-o-u-l!”

During the summer of 2001, 17-year-old Tricia Hale had an idea, or a dream as she calls it, to put on a spiritual Christmas dance program that would portray the life of Christ.
She enlisted the help of three friends and fellow dancers (Anna Woolf, 17; Jill Hendrickson, 16; and Donelle Crandell, 16) at her high school in Mesa, Arizona, to turn the dream into reality.
The dancers were on the school’s dance team but had taken issue in the past with music and costumes they felt were inappropriate or not in keeping with Church standards. They wanted to use their talents to present their testimonies of Christ by dancing to sacred music and wearing modest outfits.
The program that resulted would be an experience that strengthened their testimonies and was well-received by family, friends, and the community. Other young women took over after these girls graduated, making the spiritual experience an annual program.
Other dancers are invited to join them in planning, practicing, and performing. Although some of the dancers are not members of the Church, prayer, devotionals, and sharing testimonies are part of rehearsal time.
The free program, entitled “Let There Be Praise,” portrays the life of Christ from birth to resurrection through scriptures, narration, slides, and lyrical dance to hymns and other spiritual music. It drew more than 500 people the first year, and the audience has since grown.
Clint W. Smith, president of the Mesa Kimball Stake, enjoys the performance.
“Dressed in white, these girls are so modest and pure and are able to share their talents and gifts in a way that is very powerful and appropriate,” he says. “It is a wonderful experience for those who are in it and for those who see it.”
McKenzi Fackrell, one of the group’s past presidents, admits it was a lot of work to organize and head up the program. “But it was so worth it,” she says. “It is such a testimony builder.”
After McKenzie graduated, Kelly Allen took over as co-president and chose a younger co-president, Brianna Barba, to work with her.
“I just love it,” says Kelly, who has danced since she was nine years old.
Even though Kelly keeps busy with the school’s dance group and making straight A’s, she’s able to keep her life organized.
“Being involved in this is a big blessing,” she says. “Somehow there is time for everything.”
Brianna has danced in the program since she was in eighth grade. “It has strengthened my testimony so much,” says the honor student, who is also involved in the school’s dance group and competition cheer squad.
In a devotional she told the dancers, “Christ can turn our shabby gifts into a beautiful miracle and a shining star.”
Brianna has been able to use the program for missionary experiences, inviting a friend to dance as Mary and another to perform a vocal solo for one of the dances.
“I knew they would be able to feel the Spirit and also bring their families so they would be able to share in this, too,” she says.
Brianna’s younger sister, Brittney, who performed for the first time as a sophomore, is one of many dancers who uses the experience as a Personal Progress project.
“I chose Individual Worth, because being in this has helped me learn so much about myself,” she says. “When you learn about Christ, you learn more about being a daughter of Heavenly Father and how much He loves you. My testimony has grown so much.”
The program ends with the song “How Great Thou Art,” and the dancers raise their arms in praise.
“The group has never done a curtain call because we want that to be the last thing the audience sees,” says Tricia Hale Campbell, who is now a dance teacher at her own studio and has continued to help the high school students with the program. “This isn’t about the dancers. We feel grateful to use our talents in a spiritual way to focus on the Savior and we give that glory to the Lord.”
Sisters Kelsey, Kali, and Karissa Jarvis say that there are a lot of opportunities to sing or speak your testimony, but not a lot of places to dance your testimony.
“It lets others know that I do have a testimony,” says Kelsey.
Older sister Kali agrees. “You know how you feel bearing your testimony or having a great spiritual experience with someone? It’s the same great feeling, but you get to share it with all these people in dance.”
Kim Hathcock has returned to perform after graduating. “It’s one thing that makes Christmas meaningful for me,” she says.
During high school she performed as Mary. “It really made my testimony grow,” she says. “I also feel like we’re doing service, because so many people who see it comment that this is what gets them into the real Christmas spirit.”
Christy Quintero is a member of a local Christian church. “I thought it would be a good experience to dance to Christian music,” she says. “I really like being with everybody; they are good examples to be around.”
Don Johnson, whose daughter, Aimee, has performed for several years, says he enjoys the “spirit-filled” program.
“These girls are so busy themselves, but they sacrifice to put this on so we can feel the Spirit,” he says. “That’s very Christlike.”
Drama teacher Sandy Stones of the Mesa Kimball Stake is the faculty sponsor for the club and is on hand when the girls practice.
“It’s an honor and privilege for me to sponsor the group,” she says. “They are a light to the school and community.”

In third or fourth grade a friend and I were riding our bicycles home from school. Some older children saw us riding by and started chasing us. I was terrified! We rode as fast as we could, with the bullies on their bikes just behind. When we made it safely to my friend’s house, I promised myself that I would never be a bully. Of course, I wasn’t always perfect. But I did try to look out for classmates whom others did not treat kindly. When I stood up for these friends, I felt the Savior’s love for them and for me.

Sometime later, touched with the remembrance of that moving Sabbath morning, I told the story to a group of people in another city. Before I left that small community the next day I had a visit from a man who had heard the message and understood it. Later a letter came from him. He had gone home that night and prayed and prepared himself and had then made a visit to the place of a man in his community who had years before imposed upon the sanctity of his home. There had been animosity and revenge in his heart and threats made. That evening when it was made known that he was at the door, his frightened neighbor appeared with a weapon in his hand. The man quickly explained the reasons for his visit, that he had come to say that he was sorry, that he did not want hatred to continue to consume his life. He offered forgiveness and sought forgiveness and went his way in tears, a free man for the first time in years. He left a former adversary also in tears, shaken and repentant.
The next day the same man went to the home of a relative in the town. He said, “I came to ask your forgiveness. I don’t even remember why we have been so long angry, but I have come to tell you that I am sorry and to beg your pardon and to say that I have learned how foolish I have been.” He was invited in to join the family at their table, and was reunited with his kin.
When I heard his story I knew again the importance of qualifying ourselves for the forgiveness of Christ by forgiving.

So do the Willeys lug their violins, violas, and basses from door to door playing inspirational music for people? Not exactly. If you’ve ever seen a Church music broadcast or attended one on Temple Square, you’ve probably seen how Anthony, Elizabeth, and Kristina share the gospel through music. They are some of the youngest members of the Orchestra at Temple Square.
Being so young compared to the other members of the orchestra doesn’t bother these teens a bit. They actually love it. Elizabeth says, “Even though there are only a few members under 20 in the orchestra, I feel like I fit in. I think it’s great because there isn’t any goofing off. Everyone had to work so hard to get here.”
How did they get to be in such a prestigious orchestra at such a young age? “Lots and lots of practice,” Anthony says.
To be in the Orchestra at Temple Square you have to be one of the top musicians in the Church, able to play whatever difficult piece might be put in front of you. And it’s a huge time commitment.
Kristina says, “Being a part of the Orchestra at Temple Square is my favorite thing I’ve ever done, but it’s been a sacrifice. It’s hard to find time for homework and friends because we have to practice every day and rehearse several times a week.”
But Anthony, Elizabeth, and Kristina all say the hard work is worth it.
“It’s neat to be able to see the audience’s reaction when we perform,” Elizabeth says. “The Spirit is always there. It makes me feel like all my hard work has paid off.”
The teens’ mom and dad go to their concerts and sit up in the balcony where they can see all their children. Their mother, Denise, says, “When the music gets going, the Spirit sweeps over me and over the whole audience.”
The beautiful music the orchestra plays on Temple Square helps many people feel the Spirit. After the concerts are over, members of the audience can learn more about the Church from the full-time and Church service missionaries standing at the doors.
Anthony loves the missionary opportunities that being a member of the Orchestra at Temple Square has given him. “Being a member of the orchestra has made me want to be a better person,” he says, “and it has prepared me to be a better full-time missionary.”

“I came home from a school concert and my house was on fire,” said a Laurel from Dingle, Idaho.
“The dogs barking woke us, and the house was full of smoke,” said another Dingle resident.
And still another, “When I went into the kitchen, flames were shooting out of the wall plug.”
The sight of flames devouring the homes of their neighbors became an all-too-familiar sight to the 200 residents of this southeastern Idaho community last winter. Despite the efforts of the volunteer fire department from the nearby town of Montpelier, three homes in Dingle burned to the ground within a few months.
The town members of Dingle were there with clothing, blankets, and food to help the victims, and right in the middle were the Young Women from the Dingle Ward, Montpelier Idaho Stake. Under the leadership of the Laurels, the girls tied a quilt for one family, held a surprise kitchen shower for another family, and gave the proceeds from a baked food sale to the third family. They also raised money to send to a former Dingle resident whose home burned in Utah.
In addition, they were always ready to help with any cleaning up and clearing out they were asked to do.
“You realize how much you need one another at a time like this,” softly spoke one of the fire victims. “Everybody’s been so good to us; I’ve decided that from now on I’m going to sacrifice more of my time and do more things for other people.”
The Young Women in Dingle have discovered the feelings of fulfillment that can come from doing just that. And while they hope they won’t have occasion to help in the same way again, they’ll be there if needed.

Lying flat on my back, staring at the mechanical paraphernalia of an X-ray machine, was not what I had expected as part of my experience in the Language Training Mission. But there I was, my right ankle all puffed and swollen; another casualty of physical activity time.
Fifteen minutes before, I had been in the middle of a very exciting soccer game. My district was ahead with only one minute left. Suddenly, our defense weakened and the ball shot toward the goal. I ran forward as Elder Duran, my best friend on the other team, fell to the ground to block my kick. Snap! A sound like the cracking of a branch wrapped in a towel made everyone cringe. I crumpled to the ground, holding my right leg, and screamed for a doctor.
I tried to get up, but the pain in my leg convinced me to just lie there and grit my teeth. The ambulance came, and soon I was lying on the X-ray table, hoping my injury would be a mere sprain or dislocation. However, my hope for a miracle was destroyed when through the partially closed door, I overheard a nurse say, “That’s the worst break I’ve ever seen.”
No one would touch me for 45 minutes. Then a specialist arrived and confirmed the nurse’s comment about my ankle. By 11:00 P.M. I was semiconscious in a hospital bed, still groggy from an operation to insert a screw into my ankle. My only thought at the time was that I would be left behind when the 21 elders in my group left for the Guatemala-El Salvador Mission two weeks later.
After four days in the hospital, I hobbled back to the LTM (Language Training Mission) on crutches. I don’t know if words can describe what it was like to be in the LTM for five weeks after I had learned all the lessons. I could say them backwards and forwards, in my sleep, in the shower, upside down, and in-between.
A group of missionaries were scheduled to leave for Guatemala four days after my cast was removed, but I still had two weeks of therapy ahead of me. By the power of fervent persuasion that only a missionary has, however, my doctor was convinced I could go as long as I didn’t do any excessive walking for the first few weeks.
Finally! The excitement in my body must have been the healing factor in my bones. By the time I got to the airport, I was hyperactive. To prove my ankle was as good as new, I hopped on one foot, danced around, and showed everybody the 20 centimeters long scar on my right ankle. I can’t remember all I did, but my antics were enough to bring gasps and concerned looks from my mother and comments like, “He hasn’t changed a bit,” from my friends.

There is a big bush in his corner, and a few smaller bushes.
Some weeds grow there too. Ben’s corner is shady and cool, even when the sun is very warm.
When Daddy gave him the corner, he said, “Ben, you can do anything you want to in your corner of the yard. You can dig a hole big enough to jump into, or plant a garden, or make roads for your trucks. You can do whatever you want to there.”
“Thank you,” Ben said. He sat in his corner of the yard and thought and thought about what he wanted to do with it. Digging a big hole might be fun.
Planting a garden might be fun. He liked watching things grow.
Making roads for his trucks might be a lot of fun.
But any of those things would certainly change his corner of the yard.
He thought some more.
“What did you do in your corner today, Ben?” His father asked when he came home from work.
“Nothing yet,” said Ben. “I’m thinking about it.”
The next day when he went out to his corner, he saw a little bird building a nest in the very top of the big bush. He was careful to walk quietly so that he wouldn’t frighten the bird. Maybe she thought his corner was her corner too.
He saw a hole under one of the small bushes.
Was it a snake hole? He thought it was too big for a snake.
Was it a mouse hole? He didn’t think so. It looked way too big for a mouse.
He sat cross-legged in his corner, as still as a mouse himself, and waited.
The little bird continued to build her nest. She sang a song as she worked.
Ben was very good at waiting. He watched the busy little bird. He waited … and waited some more. Then he heard a little noise.
He didn’t move, but his eyes got big and round as a little rabbit nose poked out of the hole. Fuzzy gray ears came next. Soon a whole rabbit hopped out of the hole. Maybe Ben’s corner was the rabbit’s corner too.
It was hard to sit so still, but Ben didn’t move. The rabbit’s nose wiggled this way and that way, smelling Ben’s corner. And smelling Ben.
Ben sat very, very still.
The rabbit hopped right over to his tennis shoe and sniffed it all over. He wished that he could touch the rabbit, but he knew that that would scare it away.
He sat very quietly until the rabbit finished smelling his shoe and hopped away under the hedge at the back of the yard.
Then Ben smiled. He knew what he was going to do with his corner of the yard.
Nothing.
Nothing at all.

One day I went to my neighbor’s house to play with my friends. When one of them came out, I noticed that she had two piercings in each ear. I got kind of jealous. Then her sister came out, and she also had two piercings in each ear. I got even more jealous, and I almost said I wished I could get more piercings too. Then I remembered that Heavenly Father and Jesus want us to follow the prophet. Even though I already have a piercing in each ear, I won’t get any more. I will always try to be like Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.

In the parable of the lost coin, the coin was lost because of the neglect of the owner, and it is almost the total responsibility of the owner when he recognizes what he has done to “light a candle” (go right away) and search diligently until he finds that which was lost. I know of an instance where a young Latter-day Saint father, after the birth of his first child, bought a box of cigars to announce the happy event. Surely he was following the traditions of the world. Naively and with some innocence he offered a cigar to the bishop. The bishop accepted the cigar, and then realizing what it was, crumbled it up and threw it into the trash in front of the once happy father. This thoughtless act so offended the new father that he never came back to church. In fact, he has raised his entire family of children and grandchildren outside the Church.

In my opinion the bishop was partially responsible for the loss of this soul and had the responsibility to search until he had found this “coin” and returned it. It probably would not have been difficult if the bishop had done it right away. If he had “lighted a candle” (went immediately) and apologized for his thoughtless act, explaining what his feelings were when handed a cigar by a member of the Church, the new father probably would have returned and could have even been made stronger than before. From this parable we get the message that those who offend have the responsibility to make it right or search until they find that which was lost.

There have been times in my life when I felt as if there was no hope for me to be happy or to return to our Father in Heaven. Several years ago I was disfellowshipped from the Church. I had lived a life of pride and sin and had suffered greatly because of my actions. My engagement to the woman I loved didn’t work out, my relationships with others were suffering, and I wasn’t happy.
Although I wished I had chosen to be humble long before then, I was compelled to be humble and to seek to do the will of the Lord. I started to read the scriptures more frequently, to pray more often, and to seek to serve others. I tried to repair the relationships I had neglected for so long, including my relationship with Heavenly Father. I truly desired a change of heart.
It was early morning as I drove to school one day, and the sun was not yet up. The eastern horizon glowed, and the western horizon was dark, with a full moon descending behind it. I had developed the habit of conversing with my Heavenly Father while driving. As I prayed during this car ride, my mind was enlightened, and a new hope was placed within my heart.
I realized that my life was glowing and getting increasingly brighter, just like the eastern horizon. The darkness was dissipating, and my sins, which were as great as that full moon, were descending. They were not yet gone, but I knew that they soon would be if I continued my sincere repentance. I had hope that someday my life would be as bright as noonday.
With time and as I prayed for love for my Heavenly Father and others, I became more humble. Increased humility led me to serve God and others more selflessly, and my hope for eternal life and a better future was renewed and replenished. As that hope grew, so did my faith that my Savior, Jesus Christ, is mighty to save and to cleanse me from all unrighteousness. I know the words of Mormon are true: “Ye shall have hope through the atonement of Christ and the power of his resurrection, to be raised unto life eternal” (Moroni 7:41).

Most musicians don’t take up a new instrument and play a concert tour nine months later—especially if they’re 12 years old. John Mitton, a Salem, Oregon, deacon, started on the piano at five and added violin study at six. It wasn’t until September 1974 that he went to work on the organ, but he proved so adept that he spent last summer touring Europe, giving more than 50 concerts.
John, accompanied by his teacher, William Fawk, traveled throughout Germany, Austria, Italy, Switzerland, France, and Denmark playing the works of Bach, Purcell, Lubeck, and others.
In Austria, John played at the 10th century Abbey of Seckau near Vienna, and his concert was broadcast throughout the country. He was also a guest of the Vienna Boys’ Choir and attended music classes where they were studying a Beethoven mass. John was invited to return and play a concert with the Choir this summer at the Imperial Chapel. In Palermo, Italy, one of the cathedral directors took away the wine glass customarily given organists, noting that a “Mormon organist,” as John was referred to throughout his tour, wouldn’t need it.
John and his teacher were honored at a dinner given by the U.S. Consul General of Italy before a concert at the six-manual organ at the Monreal Basilica. Throughout his tour John received invitations from music professors as well as the public to return for additional concerts.
Prior to his tour John got some good experience playing before an audience as the Salem Fourth Ward Primary organist. He also played at many Church meetings and community programs. John also plays the violin in his school orchestra and keeps up his piano study.
But music doesn’t occupy all of John’s time. He’s studying Spanish. He’s a ham radio buff and substitutes frequently on a paper route. Last summer John and other Salem Scouts did a 50-miler, camping five days near the beach and hiking out every day. Of course, music was one of John’s first merit badges.
John’s interest in music is part of a family tradition. His great grandfather, Samuel Bailey Mitton, was a tabernacle organist, and one of his compositions, “Awake! O Ye People, the Savior Is Coming” is in our hymnbook. His mother, the former Ewan Harbrecht, was a soloist with the Tabernacle Choir and toured Europe 20 years ahead of John. Sister Elizabeth, 17, is a violist; brother David, 15, is a cellist and bass guitarist; and Esther, 6, is following John on the piano and organ.
John is planning on serving a mission for the Church. He also would like to study organ on the college level and perhaps teach someday. Motivation is no problem for him. “Playing the organ is a challenge; it’s also a rewarding experience. My parents and teacher never have to make me practice. I do it because I know I’ll get better. Having the opportunity to tour Europe is a real incentive in itself.”
Last summer John and his family visited Salt Lake City and met Tabernacle organists Alexander Schreiner and Roy M. Darley and former director of the Tabernacle Choir J. Spencer Cornwall. Brother Cornwall told John that he was endowed with a great gift and must be humble and grateful because it is a gift from the Lord.
At home in Salem, John is practicing baroque pieces two hours a day on his stake center’s organ in preparation for this summer’s concert tour. He’s looking forward to playing some of the world’s most magnificent organs as well as enjoying some of his favorite foods—bratwurst, Wiener schnitzel, and pommefrites, the German version of an American favorite, French fries.

Many other leaders helped me throughout my life. One of my Primary teachers gave me extra help to finish my requirements to graduate from Primary. She also taught my class the Articles of Faith, and she taught us about the lives of the members of the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Little did my teacher know that one day she would be my mother-in-law—I married her youngest daughter!

The words don’t do it raced through Joe’s mind, but Ethan’s words were louder.
“Write your name,” Ethan said.
So Joe did. In big black letters he wrote “JOE” on the garbage can in Mrs. Burhopp’s driveway.
When Ethan’s grandmother called him in for dinner, Joe ran into his house, grabbed a wet rag off the counter, and ran back outside. He scrubbed hard to remove his name from the garbage can, but he couldn’t do it. As he scrubbed, Joe felt like he should tell his parents.
Joe ran back to his house and began to cry. He knew he had made a bad choice when he wrote on the garbage can. When he walked into the house, Mom was waiting for him.
“Mrs. Burhopp called me,” Mom said. “She said you made a big mess of her garbage can.”
“I tried to wash my name off, but I couldn’t,” Joe said.
Mom was very quiet for what seemed like a long time.
“My mind told me not to do it,” Joe said, “but Ethan told me I should.”
“Joe, when you heard that first voice in your mind, why didn’t you listen to it?” Mom asked.
“I’m not sure why,” Joe said. “Ethan’s voice was louder.”
“The voice in your mind telling you not to do it was the Holy Ghost,” Mom said. “Listening to the Holy Ghost can help us choose the right.”
Mom gave Joe a new cloth and soap and sent him back to finish cleaning the garbage can. Joe went to Mrs. Burhopp and apologized, and then worked hard to clean the can.
Mrs. Burhopp came out to see Joe’s progress. When there was only a light “JOE” on the can, she said he could go home and come back the next day to finish the job.
When Joe woke up the next morning, he looked out his window and noticed Mrs. Burhopp’s trash can wasn’t in the driveway. As he walked downstairs, Joe thought maybe he had done enough scrubbing to satisfy Mrs. Burhopp. But when Mom pulled out a small bucket of paint and a paintbrush, Joe knew he would need to repaint the garbage can.
As Joe painted, he thought about his bad choice. But he knew that he would do better next time by listening to the Holy Ghost when he had a choice to make.

A recently returned missionary, Meg, was walking toward the doors of the Kona Hawaii Temple when she noticed a young woman sitting alone on a bench outside. Meg felt that she should speak to the young woman, but she wasn’t sure what to say. So she asked about the meaning of a tattoo on the young woman’s ankle. That began a conversation that allowed the young woman, Lani, to share her story.
Lani told Meg about her struggle to return to full participation in the Church, the nice members who were helping her, and her hope to someday be sealed to her baby daughter.
Meg invited Lani to come sit in the temple waiting room with her. They would not be able to go further into the temple yet, but they would be able to cross the threshold. Lani agreed, and they went together through the main doors. A temple worker showed them to a bench beneath a painting of the Savior.
As they sat together, Lani whispered, “I really wanted to come into the temple today, but I was nervous.” Because Meg followed the Spirit, she helped answer Lani’s silent prayer.

I am confident you have heard this story of President Spencer W. Kimball, but I take the liberty of repeating it. He had undergone surgery in the hospital. A young male nurse had placed him on a gurney and was transporting him. When getting on the elevator, the nurse bumped the gurney and let out an oath using the name of the Lord.

President Kimball, only half conscious, said, “Please, Please! That is my Lord whose name you revile.”

There was a deathly silence; then the young man whispered with a subdued voice, “I am sorry.” (See The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball [1982], 198.)