Gospel Story Finder

When he served in the Tampa Florida Mission, he shared the Book of Mormon with everyone he taught. Missionary work also taught Elder Alvarado key lessons of obedience that serve him well to this day.
He knew little English growing up, so it was thrilling to receive an English-speaking missionary assignment. But just weeks after arriving in Florida, mission president G. Vern Albright told him he was assigning him to a Spanish-speaking area. It was frustrating news.
“But President Albright told me, ‘Elder, I’ll make you a promise: if you work in Spanish [areas], you will have opportunities to use English—and you will always be successful in your jobs and in the Church’.”
The new missionary chose to trust his priesthood leader. “And following my mission, all of my work and Church callings have been in English. It’s been a great blessing.”

A woman I know was struggling with anger toward someone who had hurt her and her family. Though she told her children not to become embittered and resentful, she fought those feelings herself. After weeks of entreating her Father in Heaven, she finally felt a change. She related: “One day, in the midst of my nearly constant prayers, the healing came. I felt a physical sensation spread through my body. After, I felt a sense of security and peace. I knew that regardless of what happened, my family and I would be all right. The anger left me and so did my desire for retaliation.”
The living water is the gospel of Jesus Christ; its communicator is the Holy Ghost. My friend knew what was right. She had said the appropriate words to her family. But only when she humbled herself enough to drink of the water—to feel the Holy Spirit—could she begin to heal.

Early in our marriage, we lived in Oklahoma where I was called to be the Elder's Quorum president. It was a ward spread over a large area and included many of the Lord’s sheep that needed rescued.

My counselor and I went out one evening to find the Davis family, a family unknown to anyone in the ward. We drove to the address listed in the Church records and knocked on the door. The man who answered the door said he had lived in that house for many years and that he did not know Lamar Davis. As we drove away from the house and rounded the bend on the street, the thought came to me that it was possible that some of the numbers in the address had been reversed. I mentioned this to my counselor. There were four numbers in the address, and we switched the middle two. When we looked up, the house we were sitting in front of was that house number. We looked at each other and knew we had to knock on that door. We did so, and this time, Lamar Davis answered the door. He invited us in, and over the next few months, the Davis family was taught the gospel, and Brother Davis was able to baptize his two children. The Lord's hand had reached out to one of His lost sheep.

But the story doesn't end there. The Davises became good friends and often would babysit our young son Skyler. Linda was nearing the delivery date of our second son, and it was our wedding anniversary. Our anniversary dinner was cut short when we had to rush to the hospital for our second son’s birth. The Davises lived close by, so on our way to the hospital, we dropped Skyler off at their home. They kept Skyler through the night, and we never worried about him for a minute. Now their hands had become the Lord's hands in our time of need, and they had reached out and served us.

Earlier in the week, we had been together in Kinshasa for an amazing young adult meeting, which filled every room in the stake center and overflowed into a large outdoor seating area. The questions were excellent and the teaching so inspired. I was sitting off to one side when—during the second hour of the meeting—Elder Bednar came over and quietly whispered for me to go into one of the other rooms where young adults were watching by broadcast, and ask if anyone had a question they would like to ask Elder Bednar. I entered one of the rooms where they were reverently watching, and as I began to ask if anyone had a question, they pointed to a bishop who was walking up to me and who then handed me half a dozen pages of questions he had already collected from all the rooms. I was astonished and asked why he did that (knowing no one had told him to do so). He simply said he knew we would be coming and felt it was the right thing to do. The Lord is in charge and through His Spirit clearly orchestrated all aspects of that extraordinary experience with thousands of excited young adults so anxious to see and learn from an Apostle of the Lord.

Thomas hoed a stubborn weed out of the corn as the sun beat down on his back. Wiping the sweat from his face, he lifted his eyes longingly to the cool mountains. How he wished he was in the whispery shade of the trees there!
He loved the rustle of the white pines and the cool breezes that created soothing music among their branches. He loved the smell of the fresh wind filtering through the pines. Those ancient trees standing straight and tall seemed to him like soldiers on guard.
How he loved it when it was time to head for the hills! Every fall they took their team up to the mountains to cut firewood. He knew that they needed the wood to keep their family warm, yet every time one of those giant pines fell, he hurt inside. He felt a reverence for them. They had lived so long. They were so tall and straight.
When they brought the wood down to their farm, they sawed and chopped the logs into firewood. Thomas had a natural love for good wood and saved any exceptionally nice pieces. Then, during cold, snowy, winter days, he carefully sawed, carved, and fitted wood pieces together to make fine furniture. He loved the feel of this good wood in his hands.
Thomas remembered Grandfather Heiler. He, too, had a feel for wood. Before he had left Germany, Grandfather was a master cabinetmaker. He had planned to teach Thomas his craft but died in Winter Quarters before he could teach the boy much. Crossing the prairies was not a good place to learn woodworking. Still, it made Thomas feel good to turn this beautiful white pine wood into pieces of furniture that his grateful mother lovingly polished.
Returning to his hoeing, he stopped dreaming of cool pine forests. It wasn’t likely that he’d get up to the mountains for weeks. There was too much to do here. Even craftsmen had to delay their work to grow crops. There were no stores to buy food at in this pioneer land. His family must grow what they ate, and they worked hard to get it.
As he hoed, he spotted a carriage pulling up to their home. He watched as their neighbor, Brother Erickson, got out. Ether, Thomas’s little brother, ran to the fields to fetch his father. What was happening? What would bring a neighbor out during farming season on a Tuesday morning?
Thomas kept one eye on his hoeing and one eye on the house. When his father came in from the field and greeted Brother Erickson, Thomas worked his way closer to hear their conversation.
“The word is out that Brother Brigham [President Brigham Young] is looking for some fine wood to help build an organ for the new tabernacle,” Brother Erickson told Father. “I thought you’d like to know that.”
“Yes,” Father said slowly. “That’s interesting. But what has it to do with me?”
Brother Erickson pointed to their cabin. “Just look at those logs. The finest logs I’ve seen anywhere. They’re long and smooth, and there is not a knothole in the whole of it!”
“That’s true,” Father said. “Those logs made a snug cabin for us. Are you thinking we should let Brother Brigham know about the pine we have around here? It’s over three hundred miles to Salt Lake City! Couldn’t they find some closer?”
“Brother Robert Gardner and his son William have been traveling all over the territory, searching out good wood. Brother Brigham charged them with that responsibility. I don’t think the distance would be a problem if the wood was good.”
Father nodded. “Pine Valley would be proud to help with the furnishing of that great building. Let’s do it! Let’s send a piece of one of our very best logs.”
Over the next weeks, several men from the valley gathered at their cabin to help select and cut just the right wood to send to Salt Lake City.
Thomas wished that he could be the one to take the wood there. He ran his hand over the smooth surface of the pine chest he was making. He knew that when the Gardners saw this wood, they would want it.
“We’ll send it with one of the missionaries heading that way,” Bishop Johansen told the men. “There’s no need for a special trip.”
Hanging his head, Thomas went back to work. He longed to travel to Salt Lake City and see how the work on the organ and the tabernacle was getting along. But he knew that his family still needed every spare moment they had to provide a living for themselves. There just was no time for trips anywhere.
Over the next months, Thomas waited to hear if their beautiful white pine had been chosen for the organ. No word came. Then in the spring, men came with ox teams to haul the superb logs to Salt Lake City.
“Dad,” Thomas exclaimed happily when he saw the teams snaking up the mountain, “they’re going to use our wood!”
His father smiled at him. “It was the best they found in the territory. They’ll use our wood for some of the pipes. The metal pipes are being made back East by the Simmons company. But the largest of the wood pipes are of our wood. And they’re encasing some pipes in pine that comes from a canyon close to Salt Lake City. They’ll paint that wood to look like oak.”
Thomas grinned from ear to ear. “I sure would like to hear that organ when it’s completed.”
His father put his hand on his shoulder. “I think we could manage a trip, even one that far, to attend general conference one of these years.”
It was a promise he kept, but Thomas had to wait two whole years for the organ and the Salt Lake Tabernacle to be ready for a conference. However, in September 1867, after the crops were safely in their bins, Thomas’s family began the slow wagon ride to Salt Lake City. They arrived in plenty of time for the conference on October 6.
That morning, Thomas slid into his seat. He listened in awe to the partially finished organ. He knew that it would take Brother Ridges several more years to finish it, but he loved the sound.
Here in the wilds of Deseret, beautiful music was forming. The organ would someday be world famous. Thomas knew that as it was completed, it would only become better. For now, he was happy just to listen to its beautiful strains.
Later that day, his father introduced him to Joseph Ridges. When he found that Thomas was interested in the instrument, he showed him what they were doing. Then he introduced him to Niels Johnson, Shure Olsen, David Anderson, William Pinney, and John Sandberg, men he had been training to work on the organ, too. They were all there that day to hear its beautiful tones.
The following Wednesday, as his family traveled home, Thomas was still marveling at what he’d seen and heard. Here in the wilds of Deseret, the Lord had helped his servants use what materials they had, and what skill they had, to begin building one of the greatest organs in the world. He had felt the Spirit very strongly as its music flowed through that great building. He thrilled at the messages of the prophets. He loved the music the choir sang, accompanied by the organ. How proud he was that some of the wood inside it came from his valley.

Let me cite an instance: A young [man] was invited to a wedding in a foreign country, at which two of his acquaintances were joined together in the bonds of matrimony, the ceremony being performed by a minister of another church. This young man was the only Latter-day Saint present among the 100 or more guests at the table in the hotel. By each plate was a wine cup, filled to the brim, and also a glass of water.
After the ceremony, as the guests were all in their places, the minister arose and said, “Now I propose that the company drink the health of the newly married couple.” They all arose. Politeness suggested that he take the wine cup. He was a missionary; he belonged to the Church that preaches the Word of Wisdom, revealed directly from God to the Prophet Joseph. Science since then has proved it to be indeed a word of wisdom. He was preaching that, and he was living it. Yet here was a time when he could indulge, no one would know. But he resisted. Now was the time to defend his Church, and that is what he did.
He took the glass of water, and some of his friends by him, dropping their wine cups, followed his example, and at least half a dozen wine glasses remained untouched. Others saw it, and the circumstance gave an excellent opportunity to talk with these guests about the Word of Wisdom.
Was he humiliated? No, he was strengthened. Were the guests embarrassed? No. Did they feel to condemn him? No. Condemnation was replaced by admiration, as it always is in the hearts of intelligent and God-fearing men and women. …

Samnang Sea from Cambodia went to BYU–Hawaii from 2002-2006 and graduated in Mathematics. He had planned to go to BYU Provo for his master’s degree, but during his last year, he met his wife who then just starting as a freshman. They were married in Hawaii in 2006.

He went on to pursue both a master’s and Ph.D. degree and had a well-paid teaching job in a school which sponsored his work visa and later obtained permanent residency in the United States. Life was very comfortable, but because of the promptings of the Holy Ghost, he returned home in 2013 with his wife and three sons. That’s when he met his in-laws for the first time. He was offered a wonderful teaching position in Siem Reap but declined it as he felt that the Lord had a different direction for him. He is now a Bishop and works for the Church as the Service Center Manager for the Cambodia office. Their sons are now 11, 8 and 6 years old. Their youngest, a girl, now 2 years old, was born in Phnom Penh.

Like Andrew Mello, Andrew Hovey, age 19, received a copy of Preach My Gospel during his high school years, but it wasn’t until he was a university freshman that he came to appreciate it. Through the influence of a returned-missionary roommate and a mission-preparation class, Andrew began to prepare for his mission more actively than he ever had before. His prayers became more intimate and meaningful, his scripture study became more directed, and his plans for his mission became more real, he says. Moreover, he started using Preach My Gospel to direct his efforts.
Since then, Andrew has developed a system for marking and color coding his scriptures to coincide with principles he has studied in Preach My Gospel as well as for recording thoughts and impressions he receives during his study. But he’s quick to acknowledge that the point is not to have a prescriptive way of marking or color coding or note taking. Rather, “you can personalize your study method in a way that fits you best,” he says. “That’s what’s great about the gospel. We’re all different, but the gospel fits all of us.
“It’s the same with Preach My Gospel. It teaches basic doctrines in broad ways so that you can use it as a guide. We can use it the way we need to for our own learning or to reach someone else.”

Reflecting on this spiritual teaching pattern in my life, I would like to share with you some of my memories as a convert to the Church. This might help someone—young or older—learn how to “stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places” (Mosiah 18:9) under any circumstances.
It all started on the day of my baptism. I was twenty-two years old and a college student. I was part of a small group that assembled at a swimming pool in Brussels, Belgium. We didn’t have a chapel at that time. There was no baptismal font, no bishop—just two missionaries and a few branch members to support us. I had no family members with me. It was a first step in the known and the unknown. The known was a sure testimony of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer; of Joseph Smith, a prophet; of the Book of Mormon; and of the Church, the only true one. The unknown was yet to be discovered and experienced. It started to be unveiled by receiving the priesthood after baptism. According to the procedures followed at that time, a convert almost had to stand at the bar of judgment to receive the priesthood. Three months passed before I was interviewed and ordained a deacon. Then on that Sunday morning I stood in front of the sacrament table to distribute the emblems of the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. I still remember the surroundings, which were quite different from the ornate decorations of the church where I had previously worshiped. The dining room of a home had been transformed into a meeting hall for sacrament meetings that were attended by a few members. It was my first experience to magnify my priesthood calling. Nine months later I was ordained a teacher and learned how to teach and to watch over the few members of the branch during their contentions and ups and downs.
These were also interesting days, when attending priesthood meeting meant sitting in a circle with two missionaries and two other brothers, and reading from one mimeographed sheet of paper that was the lesson. There was no priesthood manual, and only twenty sections of the Doctrine and Covenants had been translated into French. There was no Pearl of Great Price, but most importantly we did have the complete Book of Mormon. We passed this great book from hand to hand and learned about the covenants and teachings of the Lord and his doctrine. Precept upon precept, stone upon stone, I was building my spiritual memory bank and enjoying spiritual happiness.
Another four months passed, and I was ordained a priest. Now I stood on the other side of the sacrament table. The decor was the same, but I felt different. It impressed me that now I was blessing the emblems of the Atonement and memorizing “that they may eat in remembrance of the body of thy Son, and witness unto thee, … and always remember him and keep his commandments … that they may always have his Spirit to be with them” (D&C 20:77). It was an unforgettable experience, and I still visualize it today when I bless the sacrament as a General Authority.
Two years passed after my baptism, and the day arrived for me to receive the Melchizedek Priesthood and to be ordained an elder. The mission president once again laid his hands upon my head. The authority and power to act in the name of the Lord were given. It was received by mutual agreement by an oath and covenant. The oath represented the assurance that the promises of the agreement would be kept by both participants; the covenant, that the conditions of the agreement would be kept.
As I recall that priesthood preparation in the service of the Lord, I can see how remembering my covenants helped me to honor and magnify my priesthood calling, to keep the commandments, and to bring spiritual happiness into my life in preparation for eternal life. During those trial years, many of my young friends in the Church forgot their covenants and one by one returned to the world. The world always stands between man and God, representing two alternatives but only one true choice.
How can we be strengthened in making the choice to serve the Lord? By simply focusing on the doctrine of Jesus Christ that will ensure the salvation of those who remember it, accept it, and act upon it. How did the process work for me?
As a young man I considered and learned the doctrine of eternal marriage and family. This was of great interest to me and a determining factor in my conversion. I had witnessed the breakup of my parents’ marriage; I had seen sorrow caused by death without spiritual knowledge and friends marrying without temple ordinances. I wanted to avoid these tragedies.
What is this doctrine? In the Bible, it states that Adam was created, but he was alone. We read, “But for Adam there was not found an help meet for him” (Gen. 2:20). Thus, the Lord created woman—not another man—and commanded that they should be united in the sacred bonds of marriage. The first divine, righteous, ordained union between a man and a woman was sealed by these words: “A man … shall cleave unto his wife” (Gen. 2:24). This is the established doctrine, and it will never change. It is repeated in modern revelation: “Thou shalt love thy wife with all thy heart, and shalt cleave unto her and none else” (D&C 42:22).
This union is solemnized by the authority of the everlasting priesthood in a holy and sacred ordinance, the temple sealing. It is also called the new and everlasting covenant of marriage, and its purpose is to bind couples together on earth and bring them to a fulness of exaltation in the kingdom of God in the hereafter. Then Adam and Eve were also commanded to multiply and replenish the earth. “And Adam called his wife’s name Eve; because she was the mother of all living” (Gen. 3:20).
The true concept of marriage and family, the unit composed of a husband, wife, and children sealed together, was instituted at the beginning by God to create eternal families. That foundation principle became my vision and my goal and also reality as my companion and I were sealed in the temple in Zollikofen, Switzerland. As a husband and father and later as a grandfather, I was and still am responsible for the development, temporal support, protection, and salvation of my family.
Another determining factor in my conversion was the Church as a divine institution led by the authority of the priesthood. It provided the framework that I needed for support as a member of that covenant group. I could not save my family by myself.
Elder John A. Widtsoe wrote: “The Church, the community of persons with the same intelligent faith and desire and practice, is the organized agency through which God deals with His children and presents His will. Moreover, the authority to act for God must be vested on earth in some one organization and not independently in every man. The Church through the Priesthood holds this authority for the use of man” (Priesthood and Church Government [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1939], p. 180).
The Church provides a unique support for individuals and families to do things that they cannot do by themselves, such as receiving the essential ordinances of salvation. It brings temporal relief in times of hardship. It is also a laboratory outside of the home where we can serve, learn, and practice charity, the pure love of Christ.
I also found in this church that the priesthood has a patriarchal order and that God is a God of order. He is at the head, and following this pattern, the priesthood is conferred upon worthy men so they can preside in their homes and families. The husband and father, a patriarch, is to preside in righteousness and exercise the power of his priesthood to bless his wife and family. The husband and wife serve as partners in governing their family, and both act in joint leadership and depend on each other. They are united in the vision of their eternal salvation, one holding the priesthood, the other honoring and enjoying the blessings of it. One is not superior or inferior to the other. Each one carries his or her respective responsibilities and acts in his or her respective role.
Much more could be said about the priesthood and its uniqueness, the divine commission given to man through which he acts in the plan of salvation. In essence, therein is the true doctrine of the Father, the irreversible correct principles to govern ourselves, and the know-how to act upon the law and commandments that we were given.
In this age of increased individualism and selfishness, opinions now matter more than facts or doctrine; attitudes glorify personal choice above other values and principles; and language is typified by “I don’t need anyone to tell me how to be saved; I don’t need prophets, seers, or revelators to tell me what God expects of me; I don’t need to attend church meetings, to hear talks, or to be challenged.”
Today the concept of priesthood and Church authority is on trial by the world and even by some members who think that the Latin expression vox populi, vox Dei can be literally interpreted in the Church as “the voice of the people is the voice of God.” The commercial slogan “Have it your way” certainly does not apply in God’s plan for the salvation of his children when we read that the very cause of apostasy is when “every man walketh in his own way, and after the image of his own god” (D&C 1:16). How do you overcome the temptation to have it your own way, to satisfy your own appetites, and to follow the world’s trends?
One of my simple answers tonight is to constantly remember your covenants, to act on them, and to commit to them. This sequence, as repeatedly stated in the scriptures, is a classic, spiritual teaching pattern to prepare us for eternal life. It is centered upon Christ and his doctrine and teachings. I will remember them forever.
I testify that Jesus lives, that this is the only true church, that the priesthood of the Son of God is vested herein, and that prophets, seers, and revelators who preside over this church are appointed to preserve the pure doctrine of Jesus Christ and the authority of his priesthood for the salvation of his people. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

How well I remember my father, the bishop of our ward, filling my small red wagon with food and clothing and then directing me—as a deacon in the Church—to pull the wagon behind me and visit the homes of the needy in our ward.

Often, when fast-offering funds were depleted, my father would take money from his own pocket to supply the needy in his flock with food that would keep them from going hungry. Those were the days of the Great Depression, and many families were suffering.

I remember visiting one family in particular: a sickly mother, an unemployed and discouraged father, and five children with pallid faces, all disheartened and hungry. I remember the gratitude that beamed in their faces when I walked up to their door with my wagon nearly spilling over with needed supplies. I remember how the children smiled. I remember how the mother wept. And I remember how the father stood, head bowed, unable to speak.

These impressions and many others forged within me a love for the poor, a love for my father who served as a shepherd to his flock, and a love for the faithful and generous members of the Church who sacrificed so much to help relieve the suffering of others.

Mark helped his sister, Mattie, across the dirt and rubble in the street. The snow that had been white and sparkling earlier that morning on their way to school was now gray with the city’s soot.
As they walked home, Mark thought about his first day of school after the Christmas holiday. The teacher and children had taken down all the Christmas decorations, and the classroom had a clean new look that matched the clean new morning snow.
Maybe, Mark thought, when we get home, Mattie and I can work together and clean our house too.
He was about to tell Mattie his idea when almost at the same moment they saw a green tree limb sticking out of a pile of dirty snow.
They bent down to pick it up, but the limb was crusted over with ice. Twisting and turning together, they were finally able to loosen the ice and snow and pull out a Christmas tree that had been thrown away. Pieces of tinsel and ribbon clung to the brittle green needles, and here and there were small bits of bright paper.
“Do you think we could take it home?” Mattie asked.
“Sure!” answered Mark. “No one else would want it. And now we can have a Christmas tree—even if it is after Christmas!”
Together they dragged the tree to the corner of the street. They struggled up the three flights of stairs of the apartment building and into their living room.
Mark quickly cleared a space by the window and set the tree carefully on a small piece of rug. Then they both sat down in front of the tree and looked at it.
Father lay on the couch as usual. He lifted the paper he was reading to watch them. Mother came from the kitchen and stood in the doorway silently. Neither of them said anything.
Each afternoon Mattie and Mark hurried home from school to see their tree. Mattie cut her favorite bright red ribbon and tied small bows on the tree. Mark went through his box of treasures and found a few things that almost looked like Christmas ornaments. Both of them watched for bits of tinfoil and pieces of bright yarn or string to make their tree more beautiful.
In the long evenings as they sat before the tree, they softly sang carols they had learned in school. Neither Father nor Mother seemed to pay much attention. The children felt as if they were living in a different world, so they were surprised when one night Father started humming the songs with them.
That same night Mother came to the kitchen door and said, “Don’t make so much of that tree. After all, it was the Child who made Christmas, not just a tree.”
“Tell us about the Baby,” Mark and Mattie pleaded.
Mother took the old Bible from the round table, dusted it, and read to them. Night after night they asked for the story. And over and over again Mother read about the small Child in the manger and Mary and Joseph who were so careful and protecting.
“That star was something too,” Father said one night.
“Tell us again about the star,” Mark asked, and no one seemed to think it strange when Father began talking about the star that led the wisemen.
Once when Mother put the book back, she dusted and straightened the round table and swept the floor around the tree. The next night when she read, Mother had on a pretty pink apron.
When the snow began to melt, Mark and Mattie found many shiny bits for the tree, until its branches were filled with color and sparkle. Even though many of the needles on the tree had fallen off, the children noticed that Mother still kept the floor swept clean.
In honor of the tree, they thought.
Mark and Mattie just laughed when the children of the neighborhood called them scavengers. Nothing was too good for their tree!
They were so happy with this bit of beauty in their lives that at first they didn’t even notice their father no longer lay on the couch most of the time.
Then one warm afternoon in March, they came home to noise and confusion. Many people were gathered around their apartment. They heard an officer say to their mother, “I’ve been told that there is still a Christmas tree in your house. I’m afraid it’s dry as tinder and a real fire hazard. The tree must go!”
“But it’s so pretty,” said Mattie.
“Please, can’t we keep it?” Mark pleaded.
The officer sent the curious crowd away. Father came running in, looking excited. The officer closed the door to the apartment and sat down in front of the tree with Mark, Mattie, Father, and Mother.
“Why did you keep it so long after Christmas?” he asked.
Mark explained how they hadn’t had a real Christmas. But when he and Mattie found the tree and brought it home and decorated it, Christmas came at last. Mother told them the story of Christ’s birth, and Father sang songs with them.
Mattie looked as if she was about to cry.
“And now it will all be over,” Mark said, and there was an odd little catch in his voice.
“No,” said Mother quietly. “It’s just the beginning. The tree has been a miracle for us. Because of it, we have changed our ways. Now we can have beauty and happiness in our home without the tree.”
“And next Christmas,” said Father, “we’ll have a tree of our own. I got a job today.”
“You have more than a tree now,” said the officer. “And just so you can keep all you have, we’ll remove the fire hazard.”
After the tree was gone, Mark and Mattie looked at Father and Mother. There was something different about them.
Then they smiled at each other, for suddenly they understood that after all they didn’t really need the Christmas tree to be happy!

Clown Post 207 was born when the ward youth planned a visit to the Shriners Hospital. The explorers decided to present a clown skit as their part on the program. Their adviser, Ron Buchanan, enlisted the help of his neighbor Howard Pressy, who just happened to be a well-known professional clown. With Howard’s help the post prepared an act and presented it at the hospital. Brother Buchanan (alias Classy Clown) recalls, “It gave us all a new perspective. Those young patients weren’t worried about the dance next Saturday. They were worried about whether they were ever going to be able to walk! You can’t be the same after that experience. You come out of there changed.
“We talked afterward about the words of King Benjamin, ‘when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God’ (Mosiah 2:17). We decided to keep right on clowning. We would serve through laughter.”

Recently some friends shared an interesting account that transpired years ago at the Air Force Academy. William “Bill” Crawford, known to the cadets in the squadron he served as Mr. Crawford the janitor, was barely recognized or acknowledged, and he did nothing to draw attention to himself or to promote himself with the students. He did his job exceedingly well, and apparently no one paid much attention to him or to his service to the academy and to future Air Force officers.

Mr. Crawford’s personal appearance was not particularly impressive, and he demonstrated with his gray hair, his wrinkled face, and his slightly shuffling gait nothing of greatness that was readily apparent to the students. He was polite but apparently shy. He typically did not speak to the young cadets unless they spoke first, which they rarely did. He just seemed, as reported by one of the cadets, to “[blend] into the woodwork.”

All of that changed in the fall of 1976 when one of the students was reading a book about World War II and the infantry campaign in Italy. Let me turn to the words of then student and later Air Force Colonel James Moschgat:
On Sept. 13, 1943, a Private William Crawford from Colorado, assigned to the 36th Infantry Division, had been involved in some bloody fighting on Hill 424 near Altavilla, Italy. . . .

. . . “In the face of intense and overwhelming hostile fire . . . with no regard for personal safety . . . on his own initiative, Private Crawford single-handedly attacked fortified enemy positions.” It continued, “For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty, the President of the United States . . .”

Cadet Moschgat said to his roommate, “You’re not going to believe this, but I think our janitor is a Medal of Honor winner.”

The following Monday morning, the cadets couldn’t wait to ask Bill, the janitor, about the story. As they met him, they showed him the page in question. He looked at it quietly for a time and then said, “Yep, that’s me.”

They then asked him why he had not ever told them about his experiences and his medal. He just humbly responded, “That was one day in my life and it happened a long time ago.”

The students had to leave for class, but, for them and for Mr. Crawford, things were never the same again. Quickly the word spread throughout the academy that they had a hero among them and that their janitor had won the Congressional Medal of Honor.

Let me return to Colonel Moschgat’s account:
Cadets who had once passed by Bill with hardly a glance, now greeted him with a smile and a respectful, “Good morning, Mr. Crawford.” Those who had before left a mess for the “janitor” to clean up started taking it upon themselves to put things in order. Most cadets routinely stopped to talk to Bill throughout the day, and we even began inviting him to our formal squadron functions. He’d show up dressed in a conservative dark suit and quietly talk to those who approached him, the only sign of his heroics being a simple blue, star-spangled lapel pin. Almost overnight, Bill went from being a simple fixture in our squadron to one of our teammates.

“I was telling a friend of mine that I come from a big family,” Cay said. “I told her about standing in line at the airport when my dad came back from a business trip, how people’s chins dropped when they saw five kids waiting for the same dad. My friend laughed and said, ‘They must have thought y’all were Mormons.’
“I turned to my other friend and said, ‘Should I tell her? Should I tell her?’
“And the first friend said, ‘Tell me what?’
“Then I said, ‘I am Mormon.’ I think she was bright red with embarrassment for the rest of the day.”

For years, Aarika’s grandparents Raymond and Marilyn Perez supported Aarika and her brother, Aaron, as they went to church. But becoming members themselves wasn’t in the Perez’s plans. “I’m not going to become a Mormon,” Marilyn would tell her granddaughter. And the granddaughter would just smile because she had other ideas.
When Aaron left as a missionary to the Chile Santiago South Mission, Aarika began inviting her grandparents to church, and the Perezes accepted the invitations. Meanwhile Aaron wrote them letters from the mission field.
“And when Aaron got home from his mission, things got more and more serious about the Church,” Aarika recalls. Not long after that, what they said wouldn’t happen did. Raymond and Marilyn were baptized in December 1999.

President George Albert Smith toured our mission in New Zealand when I was serving there as a young man. Soon after his return home, a personal letter came addressed to me from President George Albert Smith. He was asking my forgiveness as he had failed to extend a special greeting to me from my cousin who worked in the Church Office Building. His letter was so kind, so thoughtful, so gracious, and so typical of the seven modern-day prophets that I have had the privilege of meeting and being with. Each has demonstrated that great common denominator of Christ-like love, courtesy, and consideration for all.

Let me give you some examples from my college years at BYU, which is when I made a commitment to follow this pattern in my life. During my first two years at BYU, I worked for Custodial Services every day from 4 a.m. until 7 a.m. My first class was English at 7 a.m. It seemed logical to schedule my classes early because I would already be on campus. However, as you can guess, it wasn't always worth that convenience. The temptation many days after work was to find an empty recliner or cot in one of the women's restrooms on campus and skip that first class. If I did, and fell asleep, I could easily miss the whole morning of classes. (In those days we didn't have cell phone alarms.) I had to resist that temptation and walk sleepily to class repeating to myself, "Be where you are supposed to be when you are supposed to be there."
Following the pattern was great because it got me to class! But on those days when I had prepared by getting plenty of sleep the night before, I was much happier to leave work and go to class, and my participation in class was much more meaningful!

As a 21-year-old college student, I was looking for the truth and ecstatic to hear the gospel message from the missionaries. I accepted the message slowly but wholeheartedly. I joined the Church, but I was the only member of my family to do so.
After being a member of the Church for about one year, I realized my testimony was growing stronger every day, but something was missing. I didn’t know that I was a child of God.
It was true that I had accepted God as the Father of all. I had not, however, realized how intimately He knows each of His creations. “With all that there is in this world,” I asked myself, “how could He possibly know me personally? How could He consider me His daughter? How could He love me as His child?”
It was with these questions in mind that I turned to Heavenly Father in prayer. Shortly after, during scripture study, I stumbled across 1 Chronicles 28:9. King David told his son, “Thou, Solomon my son, know thou the God of thy father, and serve him with a perfect heart and with a willing mind: for the Lord searcheth all hearts, and understandeth all the imaginations of the thoughts: if thou seek him, he will be found of thee; but if thou forsake him, he will cast thee off for ever.”
No other verse of scripture has brought me closer to my Father in Heaven than this one. It testified to me not only that I am a daughter of God but that if I seek Him, I can find Him. It testified to me of my divine nature. I had not, in my heart, been fully converted to the idea that I was a child of God. I had hoped that these things were true but couldn’t grasp the knowledge of such a loving Father in Heaven. I couldn’t fathom a Being who could know my innermost thoughts and aspirations. I couldn’t accept His love, knowing my shortcomings and the many mistakes I had made.
The scripture taught me many things. First, David, who had made many mistakes of his own, counsels his son Solomon to seek the Lord and serve Him with full purpose. By this Solomon can find the Lord. Reading these words awakened in me a strong desire to develop a personal relationship with my Father in Heaven. I was learning more about Heavenly Father’s loving ways. I knew that, like David and Solomon, I could be found of Him. Our relationship was growing. This scripture gave me a formula to live by, and I found it to be true.
I discovered that Heavenly Father knows me personally. I continued to study this scripture until the phrase “the Lord searcheth all hearts” was embedded in my mind. Each time I read it, the Holy Ghost whispered to my heart that Heavenly Father knows everything, even “all the imaginations of the thoughts.” I knew that He was not just my Creator but that He was my loving Father and I was His beloved child. I had finally come to accept that He knows me. He knows my private thoughts, aspirations, dreams, desires, fears, intents, and, of greatest importance to me, my imaginations. He knows me as my parents here on earth know me but even more so. It was with these insights that I gained a testimony that I am a child of God.

When they returned for our second meeting, the two missionaries spoke to me of many new things that I did not know but felt were true. When they told me about the Word of Wisdom, I felt my heart sink, and I said “Tell me how I, of all persons, can give up alcohol, since I have tried every way I know how, and have had no success.” They asked me if I believed in God and in the things they had taught me and if I felt that I had faith in the Lord. I replied that I did.
“Good,” they said. “If you will listen to us, we’ll help you and the Lord will give you the power to overcome your problem.” “I’ll be infinitely grateful,” I answered. Their exhortations filled me with joy, with hope, and with faith, and I really desired in my heart to follow their guidance. When I prayed I felt more and more self-confidence, and from that morning, with my newborn courage, I imposed the rule that I would never drink cognac again. And I was able to maintain that rule though I suffered greatly. With the help of the elders, and with humility, I was able to gradually reduce the doses of other alcoholic beverages and of cigarettes. It was not easy, but I felt the Lord near to me, helping me. I felt that I had to do my part and that I would not be alone in this trial.
After a month and a half I was able to overcome my vices. Finally free, I felt ready to be baptized, with my wife, on December 28, 1977. I came up out of the baptismal waters renovated in body and spirit, sure that the Lord forgets our sins if we are truly repentant. I can’t explain what a joy it was to abandon the old me and see myself reborn full of trust in myself and love for my fellowman. I had an immense desire to recover all the lost time showing gratitude to the Lord with a commitment to do everything that he commanded me.

I took the opportunity to hike two amazing hikes with my daughter this year. One of those hikes was Table Rock.

I had always heard of this place, but this was my first attempt at this hike. I never hurt so badly at a physical event in my life. My muscles started cramping about four miles in, with three miles left to go. I found out I don't like straight-off edges and slippery, rocky slopes. I found myself at times clinging to rocks, not able to move from the fear that was setting in. I thought to myself, "This is beautiful right here. I bet the top isn't that much grander." I asked a couple of people coming back down how it was, and their comment was they wanted to quit. But they were so glad they didn't, because it was amazing.

Then something inside starting saying, "What if this is symbolic of your journey to the celestial kingdom?" Am I willing to settle for something less? I kept praying for divine help to work through the pain and the crippling fear I was experiencing, and then came this life lesson. I had made the decision to do this hike. I did not want to fail. If I did not look ahead or behind and I only focused on what was in front of me at that very moment, keeping a prayer in my heart, I was able to move forward one step at a time until I pulled myself over the top of that rock.

The view was breathtaking, literally, and I could not hold back the tears of accomplishment. I could do hard things and was all the better for it.