Gospel Story Finder

This is the world Mike Lee stepped into at age 16, when his father sent him out to learn about work.
Now, before you start picturing Mike’s father as some sort of hardhearted Captain Bligh, let’s set the record straight. His father’s act may have seemed at the time almost cruel, but in truth it was an act of love.
It was 1979. “I’d been having a lot of trouble in school, a lot of trouble in everything,” Mike explained. “I wasn’t a bad kid. I just didn’t know what I wanted to do.”
Mike’s father, W. Boyd Lee, was serving at the time as president of the Norfolk Virginia Stake. He loved his son and worried about him a lot. “Mike’s mother and I prayed constantly. I kept feeling that Mike should work on Spencers’ boat.”
Ira Spencer, Jr., a good friend of Brother Lee, was the branch president of the Manteo (North Carolina) Branch. Ira owned a fishing trawler that his son Duke piloted out of Wanchese, a little town near Kitty Hawk, where the Wright brothers first flew a plane. Ira and his wife Shirley also ran a seafood restaurant in Nags Head, and maybe Mike could help out in the kitchen when the ship was in port. Ira and Duke enjoyed having LDS crew members, because they had proven to be honest and dependable, and they didn’t use foul language or smoke on the ship.
“Still, he was only 16, and I didn’t want to impose on the Spencers,” Brother Lee explained. He talked the idea over with Ira.
“Mike seemed like a good boy,” Ira said. “Sometimes you’ve just got to give a boy incentive, and on his own he’ll move from where he is to where he should be.”
So Mike became a fisherman on the War Cry, a boat named after a line in the hymn “Hope of Israel”: “Sound the war cry, ‘Watch and pray!’” (Hymns, no. 64).
“It’s the hardest work I’ve ever done,” Mike said. “It’s not only skill that’s involved, but also a strong stomach and a desire to keep going. A lot of people can work hard for eight hours, but when you’re working almost twenty-four hours a day over a long period of time, you learn about endurance.”
At first Mike was in charge of small but important details. He had to make sure tools were always returned to the right place. He helped push trash fish overboard when the sorting was done. When the boat went after scallops, he learned how to cut the shells open and slice out the edible muscle.
“He was kind of timid at first, but pretty quick he showed us all what a good worker he was,” Duke said. “It got to where we’d trust him to run anything. He knew the gear and could do anything the rest of us could do.”
The basic crew included three returned missionaries, two others just getting ready to leave, a recent convert, captain Duke (who served a mission in Brazil), and an inactive prospective elder. “Working together, we developed quite a camaraderie,” Mike said. By the end of the summer the inactive member wasn’t inactive anymore, and Mike was ready for school again.
“Working on the boat gave me a chance to sort out my life,” Mike explained. “Even though you’re working, you’ve got plenty of time to think, and I thought a lot about the future. I thought about college, about a mission, about my family.”
He also said that being out at sea “made me love the ocean, made me respect its power. It helped me appreciate what God has created, the same way that getting out in nature helps you. It’s just a different kind of nature. The sea makes you appreciate the world that you’re a part of.”

I am a convert to the Church. I was baptized when I was a 23-year-old young single adult attending medical school in Arizona, USA. I know firsthand how Satan works on investigators to confuse them and discourage them when they are seeking truth.

All during my youth, I had watched the examples of Latter-day Saint friends. I was impressed with the way they conducted their lives. I made the decision to learn more about the Church, but I did not want to tell anyone I was studying Mormonism. To avoid pressure from my friends, I decided to make my search a private investigation.

This was many years before the internet, so I went to the public library. I found a copy of the Book of Mormon and a book called A Marvelous Work and a Wonder, by Elder LeGrand Richards (1886–1983) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. I began to read these books with great desire, and I found them inspiring.

While my spirit was yearning to learn more, Satan began to whisper in my ear. He told me that in order to be completely objective, I needed to read what was written by the critics of the Church also. I went back to the public library and began to look around. Sure enough, I found a book that discredited the Prophet Joseph.

Reading this anti-Mormon book confused me. I lost that sweet spirit and influence that had guided my investigation. I became frustrated and was about to abandon my search for truth. I was praying for an answer while reading anti-Mormon literature!

To my surprise, I received a phone call from a high school friend who was attending Brigham Young University. She invited me to come visit her in Utah, promising that I would love the scenic trip. She had no idea that I was secretly studying about her Church.

I accepted her invitation. My friend suggested that we go to Salt Lake City to visit Temple Square. She was surprised by my enthusiastic response. She had no idea how interested I was to learn the truth about Joseph Smith and the Restoration.

The sister missionaries on Temple Square were very helpful. Without knowing it, they answered many of my questions. Their testimonies influenced me to “doubt [my] doubts,”9 and my faith began to grow. The power of a heartfelt testimony cannot be overestimated.

My friend also shared her testimony with me and invited me to pray and ask God if the Church was true. On the long drive back to Arizona, I began to pray with faith—for the first time “with a sincere heart, with real intent” (Moroni 10:4). At some point on that trip, it seemed that my whole car lit up with light. I learned for myself that light can dispel darkness.

After I had decided to be baptized, the devil put up a final struggle. He worked on my family, who did everything in their power to discourage me, and they refused to attend my baptism.

I was baptized anyway, and gradually their hearts were softened. They began to help me research my family history. A few years later, I baptized my younger brother. The friend who invited me to visit her in Utah is now my wife.

In the first interview with each missionary, I liked to help them see their talents, build them up, and encourage them. Before new missionaries arrived, I read all the information on their applications to get to know them a little. I was a little concerned about one of the new elders. He was relatively new in the Church and came from difficult circumstances. I worried that he might lack the experience and background to be an effective missionary. As this young elder sat before me, I wanted to say something to encourage him, but I just couldn't think of anything I could tell him without giving him false hope. What could I say? Finally I said, "Elder, I have a feeling that you are going to be a great missionary. You are going to be such a blessing to our mission and a great blessing to the people here." He looked at me like, "What did you just say?" I thought to myself, "What did I say?" A few weeks later, I received a letter from him. He wrote, "President, I've been thinking a lot about what you said in my interview. I even wrote my mother about what you told me. We think you might be right."

Our mission was split soon after, and I never saw this elder again. Later, however, I met his new president at a training meeting. He asked me, "Do you remember Elder So-and-So?" I wanted to say, "Hey, I only had him for a while, so whatever he's done has nothing to do with me." He said, "Elder So-and-So is an amazing missionary; he has been such a blessing to our mission and to the people he has taught." As I thought about what I had told him in that first interview, I realized that the words I had spoken had not come from me. Those were the words of a loving Heavenly Father telling his son, "I love you. You can be great. You can do it."

When I was old enough, I was called to serve in Germany. I loved everything about my mission. It was a turning point for me. I came to love Heavenly Father, His Son, and the gospel as never before, and I loved to hear the word of God preached. I came to love the scriptures; I loved reading them and understanding them. I found that the General Authorities who came to see us in the mission field were men of God and had great power to change people’s lives. I saw people accept the gospel and repent and be baptized and be filled with joy.

When I came home from my mission, it was with the firm resolve that I would never be the same—and I never have been. And all that happened because a priests quorum adviser stayed close to the young men in his quorum, taught them the gospel, and helped them learn in a very simple way that they could go on missions and be touched by the Spirit of the Lord.

I believe my decision to go on a mission was an example of choosing the right. I learned to choose the right at my parents’ knees, and I will be forever grateful to them for that. Part of choosing the right is obeying the Lord’s commandment to “honour thy father and thy mother” (Ex. 20:12). We might say it this way: Honor, respect, and obey your father and your mother in righteousness. My life has been blessed because of obeying my parents, just as you will be blessed for choosing the right and obeying your own parents.

Two years ago last spring I was caught in the middle of a very heated controversy. A group of creative writing and art students at Brigham Young University, where I am one of the deans, published an issue of the school’s literary magazine which some members of the administration, faculty, and student body felt contained spots of questionable language and photography that should not be permitted to circulate. I was asked as Dean of the College of Humanities to withdraw the publication. Feelings were strong on both sides, and I was painfully squeezed between.
In the confrontations that followed, some teachers and students urged me to really clamp down on those students and their advisors who were responsible for the publication. It was suggested by some that I ought to exercise tighter controls in supervising students and their creative activities. Meanwhile, other teachers and students were pressing me even more strongly to stand up with vigor in defense of academic and creative freedom. Each side stressed the important “principles” involved.
The whole situation was intensely awkward for me because I felt that both sides were, to some extent, right. Surely morality, refinement, and good taste are standards to be defended and practiced, especially by members of the Church and in all Church publications. Equally, however, academic and creative freedom is also surely an ideal to be championed; and its opposite, censorship or suppression, inevitably contains elements that are not only inherently repugnant but also most difficult to control.1
This unpleasant incident of two years ago was particularly tense for a few weeks, but, rather than standing alone, it was merely one of many such incidents that have come to my door during the past twenty-five years in my responsibilities as a teacher and school administrator supervising creative writing classes, publications, and contests. The incident I have referred to happened at BYU, but it could have been in any high school or university. In fact, similar confrontations, often far more severe, have occurred and are occurring all over the world, wherever talented young people are writing, and that is everywhere. It is a problem that concerns all of us who are students and educators; and for those of us who are students and educators in the Church, it is a problem of special concern. The typical pattern is for some students and their teachers to press for increasing freedoms in writing and publishing while other students and educators press for tightening restrictions and controls.

I was with President Lee on one occasion in New York City, where he had an interview with George Cornell, the senior writer of religion for the Associated Press. As we sat there, George Cornell said to President Lee, “I’d like to talk to you about some of the controversial aspects of your Church.”

As he mentioned one or two of them, Brother Lee said, “George, your readers do not want to hear about that. What your readers want to hear about is the great welfare program of the Church and the outstanding education program of the Church.” Mr. Cornell began to take notes, and as a result an almost full-page story from the Associated Press described our educational effort and our welfare program. No mention whatsoever was made of the controversial subjects of that time. This was the persuasive ability of Harold B. Lee.

When Henry Marsh loses a race, it’s news. He made that kind of news twice last year, not at all in 1982, and once in 1981. One of the items of news he made last year simply involved getting overtaken at the finish line. That’s very very rare. The other news he made was even rarer. At the World Championship in Helsinki, Finland, he hit the barrier on the last water jump and went into the water, making not only news but a splash heard ’round the track world.

“Down” was a rather new dimension when Henry discovered it on the last water jump in Helsinki. He not only lost the race and his number one ranking, but came out of the water pit with painfully bruised ribs. There was no way he could run the following week in Berlin, Germany.

But he did. Although his ribs screamed at him to stop, he not only won the race in Berlin, but turned in an American and personal record of 8:12.37. But that’s not really news, is it?

I was in my fifth year of studying humanities when I received a lesson about the worth of an example. Every time our teacher entered the classroom, he found a picture of himself—drawn by some of my classmates—on the blackboard. And every time, the professor would ask us to wipe away the drawing. However, he never said anything else about it.
I was very impressed with our professor’s wise and humble way of being, and I became curious about which church he belonged to. I found out that he was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I decided to receive the missionary discussions, and I was baptized on September 10, 2000. The man who had shown me an example through his way of living turned out to be my branch president.

Tory swung her legs back and forth under her chair. Her stomach growled. She loved going to her new church, but sometimes she got a little hungry by the end.
“What can we do to follow Jesus?” Sister Jameson asked the class.
Tory put her feet on the floor. She sat up straight. I want to follow Jesus! she thought.
Erica raised her hand. “We can read the scriptures.”
“That’s a great idea. Our stake president just asked us to read the Book of Mormon every day,” Sister Jameson said. “Who will do that?”
Everyone raised their hands high. Everyone except Tory. She raised her hand only halfway.
Tory was a new member of the Church—and the only member in her family. She had first learned about the Church when her friend Erica invited her to Primary.
Tory still had a hard time reading the Book of Mormon on her own. It had lots of funny names in it, like Teancum and Anti-Nephi-Lehies.
“I’m not sure if I can,” Tory told Erica.
“I’ll help you!” Erica said. “You can come to my house before school. My family reads scriptures right after breakfast. Then we can walk to school together.”
“Thanks!” Tory said. She was glad that Erica lived so close.
Dad said it was OK, so every morning Tory went to Erica’s house before school. They read the Book of Mormon with Erica’s family. Tory even tried reading by herself on the weekends.
But then one day in soccer practice, Tory twisted her ankle. After a trip to the doctor, Mom helped Tory to the couch so she could rest. Then Tory called Erica with the bad news.
“I hurt my ankle at soccer today. I have to use crutches for two weeks! And my mom has to drive me to school.” Tory swallowed. Her eyes stung a little bit. “I can’t come over to read scriptures anymore.”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry,” Erica said.
“I wish I could keep reading the Book of Mormon with your family.” Tory frowned at her foot. It was wrapped in white, sticky tape and propped on a chair in front of her.
Erica was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I have an idea—a way we can keep reading together!”
“How?”
“Stay by the computer before school tomorrow. You’ll see!”
The next morning Tory got ready for school as fast as she could. But her ankle made it tricky. She got out her favorite green socks. But they wouldn’t even fit on her foot! Tory hobbled to the living room and plopped into the chair by the computer.
The computer made a beeping sound. It was a video call from Erica’s family! Tory answered, and a blurry screen came up. Erica’s face appeared.
“We’re ready!” Erica grinned. “Now you can still read with us every morning.”
Tory opened her scriptures. She followed along as they read 1 Nephi 3:7: “I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded.” She smiled. She was doing what the Lord had commanded too!

After she was no longer eligible for college competition, she decided to go on a national professional tour. Diane knew her gymnastics career was mostly over, but she just wanted to hold on to the thrill of the spotlight and the fun of the sport for as long as she could.

During training for the tour Diane was practicing a vault she’d done thousands of times. She ran toward the vault just like she had done every other time. She jumped on the springboard like all the other times and flew up and over the vault—just like all the other times. But this time was different. This time she turned her body just a little too far. This time when she landed, she broke her neck. The accident put her in the hospital for almost six months and in a wheelchair for the rest of her life.

That was on December 15, 1981. Diane spent that Christmas and the next five months in the hospital, trying to imagine her life without gymnastics. After so many years of loving the sport, it was difficult for Diane to adjust.

“I hated being in the hospital, and I felt like I was in prison,” says Diane. For one month of the five she was in the hospital, she was in traction and couldn’t move at all except when the nurses came in and turned her a few centimeters every two hours. Diane had no idea she’d be in the hospital for so long. “In fact, when I was first injured I thought for sure that in a month I’d be back on the tour. I thought, ‘If I have enough faith and believe in God and in myself, I’ll be okay.’ And I just knew it.”

Recovery wasn’t quite so easy though, and things seemed to get worse. “I was a horrible patient,” says Diane. “In the hospital I was really miserable because I was so restless. I was really impatient with people.” Finally Diane came to a turning point.

“One day I was in the depths of despair. I just felt like I couldn’t bear it anymore,” Diane says. She asked for a priesthood blessing. She knew the power to heal her was present, “but I only wanted that to happen if it was Heavenly Father’s will. I had this blessing and I felt the greatest sense of peace. It was like I knew that no matter what happened it would be okay. If I didn’t walk away from the hospital there would be a reason for it. I knew that I had always tried my best to live the gospel and do what I was supposed to do, so if anybody was worthy to have that blessing, I was. But from that point on I was a different person. I was totally comforted.”

Ironically, one of the biggest aids to her recovery was gymnastics. “I don’t know if I could’ve gotten up again if I hadn’t had that training in gymnastics,” she says. “I had a lot of serious injuries when I was a gymnast that I just had to deal with. It was always down, up, down, up in gymnastics and this was just one more down I had to get up from. Gymnastics taught me to get back up so I could be a champion again.”

On the day she finally realized she would never walk again, Diane made the decision to return to school to work for her degree. She was lying on her bed with all her scrapbooks filled with souvenirs and photos of her performances. Tears dripped down her face and splashed on the scrapbook pages. “I just realized right then that things weren’t going to get any better. As I lay there crying I thought, ‘I can either give up or get on with my life’ and that’s when I decided to go back to school and get my degree.”

Now Diane teaches a class full of seven-year-olds who are just the right height to look her in the eye. “The kids will do anything for her,” says Marie. “They just love her.”

Her students aren’t her only fans. Diane also gives fireside talks to teenagers who listen intently as she tells her story. And her message is one of hope and perseverance, without bitterness for what has happened.

Her personality hasn’t changed at all. Just listen to her speak and you’ll hear the exuberant, happy girl who used to charm arenas full of people. Now her charm is just aimed at another audience. Her voice seems to smile at every person in the room and her own laughter frequently interrupts her stories.

“I think telling my gymnastics stories and sharing my experiences opens up the communication between us. They soon forget that I’m in a wheelchair. When they do that, the youth can see that I’m just a regular person and we have a lot in common, even though, in a wheelchair, I look a lot different than they do,” Diane says.

Her main message is one for potential champions: don’t give up, no matter what happens. “When I was a young gymnast I met a girl, an athlete named Nancy Thies. Nancy was a member of the U.S. Olympic team and one of the finest gymnasts in the country. I have never forgotten some very important things that Nancy taught me. I remember the first thing she said was, ‘Don’t be afraid to lose.’ She said, ‘If you fall down and you stay down, you’re a quitter and a loser and you will never win. But if you get back up and you try one more time, it will be your turn to be the champion, so just don’t give up.’” Diane says she made a promise to herself that she would remember that advice and never give up, no matter how many times she fell.

Once she faced the hardest fall of her life, not giving up was difficult, especially because of her wheelchair. The entire time she was a gymnast, whether she was swinging high above the uneven parallel bars of just doing handstands for fun, her only fear was of being blind or paralyzed. “I had such uneasy feelings about wheelchairs that I would never talk to anybody in a wheelchair or go near a wheelchair. I would avoid people in wheelchairs. I was afraid that I’d end up in a wheelchair if I got too close to one. It was almost like having thought about it so much somehow prepared me for a wheelchair,” she says.

It was probably Diane’s unconquerable spirit that prepared her more than anything else. It’s a spirit that is evident in both her funny stories and her powerfully quiet testimony about the importance of an eternal perspective and God’s love for each of his children. It’s a spirit that Diane has always had. “I’ve never met anyone, except my father, who has a stronger testimony than she does,” says Marie. “There’s no doubt in her mind that what she’s doing is right and that the Church is true. She has always been a great example.”

The lights are turned down in the room as she finishes her message, and a slide show featuring Diane, the fun-lover and gymnast, lashes on the screen in time to some fast, contemporary music. When the presentation is over, young people surround her excitedly.

Diane says, “It makes me feel really good when people tell me they’re going to try harder after they’ve heard my talk. One girl came to me once and told me she’d heard me speak four different times. The first time, she decided not to commit suicide. The second time, she decided that she didn’t have to drop out of school. The third time, she made a goal to become one of the best students in her class, and the last time she was on her way to that goal.”

Diane just shrugs her shoulders and laughs a little when someone tells her she’s wonderful. She even looks a little embarrassed, which is rare for this experienced performer. “People always think, ‘You’re so amazing, you’re so incredible,’ but I’m not. People will say, ‘If that happened to me I could never handle the situation,’ and the thing I have to say is, ‘Either you handle the situation or you die.’ You have to take whatever life gives you and deal with it, even if you might not want to. You know, if somebody dies in your family, you have to live with it. If you break your neck you have to live with it, but you just learn and that’s what’s so great about time and the healing process. You don’t have to be miraculous.”

You just have to be as willing as Diane was to get up again, so that someday it will be your turn to be the champion. For Diane, the victory is especially sweet, because she has won back what she thought she’d lost.

She is a champion again.

And in the locker room, especially notorious for filthy talk and music, Brad says he likes to sing hymns.
A football player who sings hymns in the locker room? “Not only that, when Brad starts singing, other guys join in,” says Mitch.
Laughing, Brad recalls, “I remember once after practice I was singing, ‘How Great Thou Art.’ I guess other religions know it too, because all of a sudden even all the non-LDS guys started joining in. I was really surprised!”

Let’s start with the assignment to be a ministering sister. Whether you have that assignment as a 10-year-old daughter in a family where the father has died, or as a Relief Society president whose town was recently affected by fire, or when you are in a hospital recovering from surgery—you have a chance to fulfill your call from the Lord to be His ministering daughter.

A sister recovering in a hospital from surgery was prepared to minister to her fellow patients. She had spent a lifetime ministering for the Lord to every stranger as if he or she was a neighbor and a friend. When she felt in her heart the call to minister in the hospital, she served others so bravely and with such love that the other patients began to hope she wouldn’t recover too soon.

On November 10, 1882, a young woman named Sarah Jane Carter married Alma Porter, a widower of 10 years. Sarah Jane was almost 18 years of age, and Alma was almost 48. To Sarah Jane and Alma were born 10 children. Their last child and eighth daughter was my grandmother. My grandmother was just five months old when her father died, leaving Sarah Jane a widow at age 38. In addition to losing her husband, four of Sarah Jane’s daughters died at a young age.
Sarah Jane worked hard to provide for her family. Her only source of income was from what they produced on a small farm. From the cow’s milk she made butter to sell at the local butcher shop. With that money Sarah Jane could buy the items the family needed that they could not supply themselves. She also sold apples and raspberries for money to pay the taxes on the farm.
In my living room hangs a large oval frame with a picture of Sarah Jane. On days when I think my life is hard, I think of her. I think of her challenges. I believe it was Sarah Jane’s faith in the Lord and belief that He would strengthen her that helped her through what I imagine were very difficult and lonely days. My grandmother wrote this about Sarah Jane:
I can never remember sitting down for breakfast but what we knelt down and had a family prayer. It was a must at our home. You all know the slogan today, “the family that prays together stays together.” Mother knew she needed lots of help to keep her family close to her and our Heavenly Father was her best source of strength.

It brings President Shumway and myself great joy to visit our children and their families and find them having daily scripture study together as we did with them growing up. A few months ago our daughter, Heather, backed their van into a parked police car. She was pregnant with her 4th child, and her husband, Morgan, was under great pressure that week finishing his master's degree.

When Morgan came home that evening, Heather burst into uncontrollable sobbing as she related the trauma. Instantly, their rolly polly two-year old toddled over to the shelf, picked up a Book of Mormon and took it straight to his mother's lap, earnestly looking up at her face. Isn't it wonderful that even a baby can sense the power of the Book of Mormon to help solve problems in our lives.

Brothers and sisters, if I say anything worthwhile here this morning it will be because you exercise faith enough to induce the Lord to bless me on the spur of the moment. I had not prepared nor expected to speak here. I feel a little like the young man who, in the early days on his first lecture tour, came out here in the West. As he spoke he became nervous because he saw two cowboys fingering their revolvers and lariats. At the close of his speech, as they came up the aisle he really became excited. When they reached him, however, they said, “Don’t feel frightened, young man. We know you did the best you could. What we are looking for is the one who brought you here.”

While on a lecture tour some time ago, I noticed that one of the other lecturers had attended my discussion on adversity for three consecutive days. After the third lecture, she told me, “I’m concerned that I’ve never had a real trial or test in my life. It’s almost frightening to think about it.”

We talked for a while about the fact that we have no control over when trials come to us, only over how we respond to them. I said that we need not seek trials; over a lifetime, we will have our share of them. And although we have been assured that the Lord will not require more of us than we are capable of handling (see 1 Cor. 10:13), we need to prepare by gaining a good understanding of the Lord’s plan and develop a faith that can carry us through our crises.

Little did this good woman realize how soon she would be faced with a tremendous test. Only a few months later, she and her husband stood at the side of a small coffin containing the body of their only son. As her friends mourned the death of the infant, killed in an unexpected farm accident, this woman was the one who lifted their spirits. She and her husband sorrowed, but they did not blame God or others or react bitterly. Rather, they displayed a quiet strength born of the Spirit.

Illustration by Alyssa Gonzalez
When I was in high school, I was chosen to participate in a fashion show for an annual school event. I knew that the coordinator would choose dresses that were not modest, so I told her that I would not participate if the dress I had to wear was immodest. She said that would be all right.
When my friends and I went to check out our dresses, I was confused. Despite what the coordinator had told me, all the dresses were the opposite of the dress and appearance standards in the For the Strength of Youth booklet. Because it seemed like there was no solution, I tried on one of the immodest dresses. I wanted to look pretty, but when I wore that dress, I didn’t feel like myself. I wondered, “How would I feel in the Lord’s presence in this kind of dress?”
I thought about how I could get out of this situation. Finally, I found my older sister’s prom dress, which did meet the Lord’s standards. When I told my friends that I would use my own dress, I could tell from their facial expressions that they thought I would look better in the immodest dress. Fortunately, the coordinator said it was OK to wear the modest one.
I was relieved, and I felt confident. I didn’t care what my friends thought. I found a way to participate with a gorgeous and modest dress. I was grateful that I had the courage to keep my standards high, especially when it was not easy or popular.
Jessika S., Indonesia

The worth of a soul! President McKay felt that every living thing deserves our respect and thoughtful care. He felt this way even about animals and birds, and he liked to return often to his Huntsville farm to ride his horses and to visit. Once, someone broke into the farm and stole the President’s saddles. When the saddles were replaced with new ones, they were kept in the saddle house under lock and key. One day President McKay’s sisters stopped to check on things at the farm, and seeing one of the windows on the saddle house open, they closed it to avert a second theft. Hearing from his sisters what they had done, the President gently said, “I left that window open purposely because there is a bird’s nest inside, and that is the only entrance the parent birds have to carry food to their babies. I think I shall just have time to run over.” He went and opened the window and, returning, said in a gracious way, “It was just as I expected—one little bird was outside trying to get in, and the mother bird was inside attempting to get out.”

Years ago, I went with my daughter to the temple. She was the last to be baptized that day. A temple worker asked my daughter if she could stay longer to be baptized for everyone whose names were ready that day. She said yes.
I watched my daughter step into the baptismal font. The baptisms began. Water streamed down her face each time she came out of the water. She was asked again and again, “Can you do more?” Each time, she said yes in a determined voice. She stayed until the last person on the list had been baptized in the name of Jesus Christ.
I still remember the feeling of light and peace as we walked together from the temple. That is how temple service lifts and changes us.

Tammy and I have committed to follow the prophet and live debt free and within our means. We don’t have a mortgage or any other debt. We do make a car payment each month, but instead of paying a car dealership, we make a deposit into our own car savings account. A little while ago we took about four years of car savings and went shopping for a new car. We really liked a base model Toyota, and it fit our budget perfectly. We thought we were ready to buy, but then the salesman showed us the next model up. It was much nicer but was a little more than what we had saved. But then, and this was the temptation, we were led to a top-of-the-line model—a real dream machine.

Now, I have never been infatuated with cars, but driving that vehicle was a transcendent experience; it was so smooth and so powerful. I wanted it! I really wanted it, and Tammy wanted it too. We had just one problem: the car cost much more than what we had in our car savings. The sales person enthusiastically showed us that with our large down payment, our monthly car payment would be a pittance—very affordable! What would be wrong with a little debt if we could get what we wanted now? We wouldn’t be irresponsible. We were so tempted!

Fortunately Tammy and I don’t make a major financial decision on the spot. We talk about it, pray about it, sleep on it, and make the final decision when we’re fresh and hopefully more inspired. So we went home and tried to talk ourselves into this brief excursion into debt. But alas, we didn’t feel good about it, so we decided to wait.

When I told this story to my family finance class at BYU, one student asked, “Dr. Hill, why don’t you just buy a used version of the car you want? It’s better financially anyway.” He was right. It is more economical to buy a used, low-mileage car than to buy a new car.

I got excited. Right after class I searched Carfax.com and found a beautiful car with low miles in Rexburg, Idaho, that fit our budget. My dad lives in Rexburg, so I asked him to take a test drive. He called back and said it was the best car he had ever driven and that if I didn’t buy it, he would! I bought the car on the spot over the phone on the condition that my wife approved it—though I knew she would.

Our anniversary was coming up, so I decided to surprise Tammy. I asked her to give me twenty-four hours to celebrate with a little getaway. We packed our bags and headed north on I-15. Tammy kept guessing where we were headed, and it is impossible to get anything over on Tammy, but this time I did. I just kept saying, “You’ll just have to see where we’re going, dear.” She had no clue.

When we neared the car dealership, I said, “Let’s just stop here for a minute.” We walked into the showroom, and there was our gorgeous, new-looking used car draped in Happy Anniversary! balloons.

Tammy squealed in delight and nearly hyperventilated. A few seconds later she caught her breath and got concerned. She protested, “But, Jeff, we can’t afford this.” When she heard that we could pay cash for this used car, she hugged me, gave me a kiss, and said I was the smartest husband ever!

That is an experience I will always remember. I can honestly tell you that when you are true to a commitment to live debt free and within your means, you can live joyfully and claim blessings.