Gospel Story Finder

After his mission, Ezra Taft returned to Whitney, purchased a farm with his brother Orval, and served on the Franklin Stake MIA board. By the time Flora returned from her mission to Hawaii, Ezra Taft had graduated from Brigham Young University and had received a scholarship to study agriculture at Iowa State College. On 10 September 1926, Flora Amussen and Ezra Taft Benson were married in the Salt Lake Temple and set off for Ames, Iowa, in a used Model-T pickup truck. There they lived on a meager income, enhancing their meals with vegetables gleaned from the college experimental garden.
Ezra Taft returned to Whitney with a master’s degree and an eagerness to help other farmers improve their crops. He was so helpful, in fact, that his neighbors drafted him as county agricultural extension agent.

Nellie Middleton, a fifty-five-year-old Latter-day Saint, lived in Cheltenham with her six-year-old daughter, Jennifer. To prepare her home against air strikes, she had used her modest wage as a dressmaker to furnish an area in her basement as a shelter, complete with food, water, oil lamps, and a small iron bed for Jennifer. Following instructions from the government, Nellie had also covered her windows with netting to catch flying shards of glass in the event of an attack.1

Now, all over Cheltenham, bombs were whistling through the air and crashing to the ground with a thunderous roar. The terrifying noise grew ever closer to Nellie’s home until a tremendous explosion on a nearby street rattled her walls, shattering the windows and filling the netting with razor-sharp glass.

In the morning, the city streets were filled with rubble. The bombs had killed twenty-three people and left more than six hundred homeless.2

Nellie and other Cheltenham Saints did their best to endure after the attack. When British Mission president Hugh B. Brown and other North American missionaries left the country nearly a year earlier, the small branch and others like it struggled to fill callings and run Church programs. Then the local men went away to war, leaving no priesthood holders to bless the sacrament or formally administer branch business. Before long, the branch was forced to disband.

An older man named Arthur Fletcher, who held the Melchizedek Priesthood, lived about twenty miles away, and he rode his rusty bicycle to visit the Cheltenham Saints whenever he could. But most of the time it was Nellie, the former Relief Society president in the Cheltenham Branch, who took responsibility for the spiritual and temporal welfare of the Saints in her area. With the branch closed, the Church members could no longer meet in the rented hall they used on Sundays, so Nellie’s living room became the place where the Relief Society prayed, sang, and studied.3

On a quiet November night in 1943, Nellie Middleton heard her doorbell ring. It was dark outside, but she knew enough not to have the lights on when she opened the door. Nearly three years had passed since German bombs had first fallen near her home, and Nellie continued to darken her windows at night to keep herself and her daughter safe from air raids.

With her lights out, Nellie opened the door. A young man was standing on her front step, his face in shadow. He extended his hand and quietly introduced himself as Brother Ray Hermansen. His accent was undeniably American.4

A lump came to Nellie’s throat. After their branch disbanded, she and other women in Cheltenham had longed to take the sacrament more regularly. The United States had recently sent troops to England to prepare for an Allied offensive against Nazi Germany. Once it had occurred to Nellie that some of the American soldiers stationed in her town might be Latter-day Saints who could bless the sacrament, she had asked her stepsister, Margaret, to paint a picture of the Salt Lake Temple and place it in town. Below the picture was a message: “If any soldier is interested in the above, he will find a warm welcome at 13 Saint Paul’s Road.”5

Had this American seen her poster? Did he have authority to bless the sacrament? Nellie shook his hand and welcomed him inside.

Ray was a twenty-year-old Latter-day Saint soldier from Utah and a priest in the Aaronic Priesthood. Although he was stationed ten miles away, he had heard about the Salt Lake Temple painting from another Church member and obtained leave to visit the address. He had walked to Nellie’s home on foot, which was why he had arrived after dark. When Nellie told him about her desire to take the sacrament, he asked her when he could come to administer the ordinance to her.

On November 21, Nellie, her daughter, and three other women welcomed Ray to their Sunday meeting. Nellie opened the meeting with prayer before the group sang “How Great the Wisdom and the Love.” Ray then blessed and passed the sacrament, and all four women bore testimony of the gospel.

Soon other Latter-day Saint soldiers heard about the meetings at Saint Paul’s Road. Some Sundays, Nellie’s living room was so full that people had to sit on the staircase.6

Another hurdle the Committee Coordinators faced was regarding the chairs for the dedication.
“Where are we going to rent nice chairs?” Elder Gregorio Karganilla said. “But then in February, the Tabernacle Choir came to the country.”
The choir’s visit to the Philippines two months before the dedication was a miracle. The chairs they used were brought in for the dedication.
Truly, the Lord works in mysterious ways.

Amanda Smith grabbed her two daughters and escaped across the millpond on a walkway. When the mob finally entered the blacksmith shop, seven-year-old Alma Smith saw them murder his father and brother. He himself was severely shot in the hip. His mother later found him, and through prayer and by following the instructions of the Spirit, he was healed. At least seventeen people were killed at Haun’s Mill and thirteen others were wounded.

President Kimball was a loving parent. His son Edward said: “My father was always very affectionate. I knew he loved me.” Edward remembered an occasion when both he and his father were in attendance at a solemn assembly in the Salt Lake Temple: “There were thousands of men there. As the meeting ended, [my father] spotted me where I was singing in a chorus. On his way out, he came over, embraced and kissed me.”24

Twelve-year-old David gripped his video game controller. He was going to do it! He was finally going to beat this level!
And then it all came crashing down. He missed the last tricky turn on the racetrack. His car fell behind. He lost. Again.
"Nooo!" he said. The opening screen of the video game flashed in front of him. He’d been so close! And all his friends said the next level was the coolest in the whole game too.
I bet I could do it. Just a few more tries. He reached for the start button on his controller.
Then he glanced out the window. Did he really want to spend his whole Saturday morning playing video games?
Not really. But he just knew he could beat the level.
He reached again for the controller. And then David remembered the pile of boards waiting in the backyard. He glanced back at the sun shining through the window. Today would be the perfect day to start on the tree fort he and his friends had planned.
He turned off the game and walked outside. A soft breeze blew through his hair. Sunlight warmed his face.
He filled the red wagon with spare boards Dad had given him. He told Mom where he was going and then tossed a hammer and nails into the wagon before heading to Sam’s house.
"What’s up?" Sam said, opening the door. He noticed the wagon and tools. "Great idea!"
Sam and David stopped by Ty’s house. Soon the three of them were taking turns hauling the wagon up the steep hill in the woods behind their neighborhood.
"This is heavy!" Sam said.
"And it’s hot today," Ty said.
David nodded. Pulling those boards up the dirt trail wasn’t easy. Every so often the wagon wheels caught on a big rock or fell into a crack.
"But it’s gonna be awesome," Sam said as he yanked the wagon out of a deep crack.
David pushed from behind. "Yup. Our very own tree fort."
"With a rope swing," Ty added. "And a lookout tower!"
Talking about their plans got them excited again. Before long they finished the steep climb to the tree they’d already chosen. It had the perfect tangle of big limbs and smaller branches.
"First we need to build the ladder," Ty said. David and Sam nodded. They had already drawn plans. They would nail some short two-by-four pieces of wood sideways onto the tree for the ladder.
The only problem was, building a ladder was harder than they’d thought. The nails kept bending. One board split in half. Their arms got tired.
After they had nailed only three steps in place, David checked his watch. They’d been there over two hours! It was already time to go home and help pull weeds in the garden.
They looked at the big pile of boards remaining.
"This is going to take a long time," Ty said.
David thought about how long it might take. But he wasn’t worried. And then he realized he hadn’t thought about his video game at all while they’d worked. He hadn’t even missed it! This fort might be a lot of work, but those ladder steps were going to last forever.
"Yeah," David agreed. "But I’ll bet we’ll be able to see all the way to the river once we finish the lookout tower."
The three friends headed home. They talked about how great their fort would be and decided to get an earlier start next Saturday.
The video games could wait.

Thirteen years ago it was my privilege to provide a blessing to a beautiful 12-year-old young lady, Jami Palmer. She had just been diagnosed with cancer and was frightened and bewildered. She subsequently underwent surgery and painful chemotherapy. Today she is cancer-free and is a bright, beautiful 26-year-old who has accomplished much in her life. Some time ago, I learned that in her darkest hour, when any future appeared somewhat grim, she learned that her leg where the cancer was situated would require multiple surgeries. A long-planned hike with her Young Women class up a rugged trail to Timpanogos Cave—located in the Wasatch Mountains about 40 miles south of Salt Lake City, Utah—was out of the question, she thought. Jami told her friends they would have to undertake the hike without her. I’m confident there was a catch in her voice and disappointment in her heart. But then the other young women responded emphatically, “No, Jami, you are going with us!”
“But I can’t walk,” came the anguished reply.
“Then, Jami, we’ll carry you to the top!” And they did.
Today, the hike is a memory, but in reality it is much more. James Barrie, the Scottish poet, declared, “God gave us memories, that we might have June roses in the December of our lives” (paraphrasing James Barrie, in Laurence J. Peter, comp., Peter’s Quotations: Ideas for Our Time [1977], 335). None of those precious young women will ever forget that memorable day when a loving Heavenly Father looked down with a smile of approval and was well pleased.

He’s a rather handsome young man, with blue eyes and a quick smile. Seated behind his keyboard, Ryan Moody fiddles for a moment with a few adjustments, then easily slides into the introduction of a song. The music sounds as good as anything you hear on the radio, but it’s new. He says, “This is a song I wrote.” Then he begins to sing. Just listening, the song takes you out of yourself. The sound is rich and full, but personal as well. After a moment you can’t resist taking a hard look at Ryan. The music introduces another part of Ryan. It seems to free his spirit from the chair his body must stay in. The music reveals something about him that your eye doesn’t always see.

Born with spina bifida, or a hole in his spine, Ryan has spent nearly his entire 18 years in a wheelchair. At first, doctors feared he might be mentally retarded, but Ryan was a sweet, lively child who has grown into an intelligent, talented young man, a young man with some special talents for music and for people.

Ryan doesn’t regard his chair as an impediment but as a help. “I get around a lot quicker this way.” He gives credit to his friends for helping him not feel any different. “My friends don’t let me think about it at all. They always forget that I’m in a wheelchair because they’ll go over tons of grass or something that is hard for me to get over, and they’ll say, ‘Come on, Ryan. Whoops, we forgot!’”

Ryan is a priest in the Tigard Oregon Second Ward. He serves as first assistant in his priests quorum and as a home teacher. He enjoys helping the bishop with the less-active members of the priests quorum and plays the organ for church. The bishop says, “Ryan seems to know how to bridge the gap between the groups in our ward.”

Ryan recently received his patriarchal blessing, which promised him in part that he would be able to influence the lives of youth wherever they may be and convince them of the blessings the Lord has in store for them and the opportunities that are theirs. Ryan’s greatest wish is to serve a mission, although his condition will not allow it. “I can’t believe that others with the opportunity to serve a mission will not go,” said Ryan. “It’s the thing I would like to do more than anything.”

Ryan started learning about music when he was two years old. His parents put a set of stereo headphones on him and, instead of yanking them off, he was fascinated. He started piano lessons at seven and had to be pushed into practicing like most people. As he learned to play, he and his mother discovered his talent. “I never did like the endings of pieces in books. I would just start making up new endings.” Several years later they discovered that Ryan had perfect pitch. Then he started writing music and performing on a variety of keyboard instruments. He has won numerous awards for his musical talent—composing, performing, and singing. He was voted the most talented in his ninth-grade class.

Once when Ryan was giving a talk at a grade school, one student asked him how it feels to be handicapped. Ryan answered by asking, “Well, how does it feel to be human?” What Ryan couldn’t say in that particular situation was that the Church has really helped him. “I think a lot of disabled people get caught up thinking, ‘I can’t do this, and my life is just going to be a waste.’ Isn’t it 1 Samuel 16:7 that says the Lord looks not on the outer appearance, but on the heart? [1 Sam. 16:7] That’s kind of important to me.”

Music has helped Ryan reach out to others and set a good example. He teaches keyboard and composition classes in a special summer school program. One friend was very discouraged and turned to Ryan for advice. He told her to go home and turn the radio to a classical station instead of the usual hard rock she was accustomed to listening to. “She followed my advice,” Ryan said. “The next day she thanked me and said she didn’t feel one bit discouraged.”

As Ryan was participating in a school quartet, he found that the song selected for the group to sing had lyrics he objected to. Ryan talked to the teacher about changing the words, but the teacher became angry. Ryan was hurt by the teacher’s reaction. After school, the teacher asked to speak to him and apologized for getting upset. “She said that what I had done took courage,” said Ryan. “She said she admired me for standing up for what I believed in and that she was willing to work with me because she really wanted me in the quartet.”

Just like most teenage boys, Ryan likes girls. And girls like him. His dad teases him about how much time he spends on the phone talking to young ladies, and his mother says that when he goes to stake dances, he dances every dance. He’s become quite creative at moving his chair in time to the music. “I’m still working on the slow dances,” he says.

About dating, Ryan says, “Sometimes it’s kind of tricky because girls seem to like me, but dating is a different situation. They don’t want to shy away, but they do because they don’t always know how to act. When we do go out, it is really neat because they just help me get in the van and we go.” Ryan as some advice for girls when a guy in a wheelchair asks for a date. “Ask yourself, ‘Is he a nice person?’ and then go from there. If he is and you really like him, then just forget about everything else.”

Some years ago I was invited to participate in a fireside in which I outlined ways for people to overcome discouragement. At the beginning of the presentation, I invited those who were in attendance to write on a card a major challenge they were facing, one they would feel comfortable in having me share anonymously with other members of the group. When the problems came forward, I was overcome by the significant issues faced by members who looked in control of their lives. Here are some they listed:
My farm is not making any money.
My son has a terminal illness.
Friction with a teenage child.
My oldest son is nearly blind.
Learning to accept the death of my son.
My husband sees the flaws but doesn’t see the lovely things as much.
Many of us face significant challenges. Even the great prophet Enoch experienced sadness when he viewed the wickedness of the world: “And as Enoch saw this, he had bitterness of soul, and wept over his brethren, and said unto the heavens: I will refuse to be comforted; but the Lord said unto Enoch: Lift up your heart, and be glad; and look” (Moses 7:44).
There are at least three steps to take when striving to overcome discouragement:
You can work on changing your attitude toward the problem. Even though you can’t change the circumstances in which you work or live, you can always change your attitude.
You can receive help from those who are close to you—your family, friends, and ward members, those who love you the most.
You can develop a more powerful and complete trust in the Lord Jesus Christ.
Change your attitude. By looking at a problem in a different way, it may be possible to reduce discouragement. I have been impressed with the pioneer story told about Zina Young. After experiencing the death of parents, crop failure, and sickness, she was encouraged with a spiritual experience that changed her attitude. While attempting to seek divine help, she heard her mother’s voice: “Zina, any sailor can steer on a smooth sea, when rocks appear, sail around them.” A prayer came quickly: “O Father in heaven, help me to be a good sailor, that my heart shall not break on the rocks of grief” (“Mother,” Young Woman’s Journal, Jan. 1911, 45). It is often difficult to change circumstances, but a positive attitude can help lift discouragement.
Accept help from others. The next important point is to be willing to ask for help from those around you. Sometimes help comes from unexpected sources. A few years ago I stood in line in Chicago waiting to put my baggage on a plane. Behind me was an older man. After a few minutes he said to me, “Where are you going?” I said that I was heading for Salt Lake City. He said, “I’m going there too. Are you a Mormon?” I responded by saying I was. He said that he had been a Latter-day Saint all his life and had prepared himself finally to go to the temple. While waiting for the plane, he opened his suitcase to show me all the missionary pictures that he had collected through the years. After some minutes, we were on our way and had a wonderful talk as we flew toward Utah. Upon arrival, we left the plane quickly. I made sure he knew where he was going and said good-bye.
Some weeks later I received this card in the mail: “Dear Brother Christensen, I lost your address and then found it. So I’m writing you a card. When I met you in Chicago, it was a prayer answered. I never travel anywhere. I wanted to be with someone. I have thought of you many times. I really enjoyed myself in Salt Lake City at the temple. Hope to see you someday. Thanks many times for the help you were to me.” I wasn’t planning to be useful that day, but I’m grateful for this brother who sought for extra help and I was nearby to assist.
Develop trust in the Lord. I’ve talked about changing attitudes and receiving help from others. Now, let me mention the need to put more trust and faith in the Lord. I once talked to a woman who received help with her discouragement. While waiting for a temple session to begin, she picked up a Book of Mormon to read a verse. Her eyes fixed upon Alma 34:3: “And as ye have desired of my beloved brother that he should make known unto you what ye should do, because of your afflictions; and he hath spoken somewhat unto you to prepare your minds; yea, and he hath exhorted you unto faith and to patience.” The scripture in Alma was an answer to her prayer. The message was simple: the problem she faced was going to take a long time to solve. If we place a little more patience in the process and a greater amount of faith in the Lord, our challenges will find their way toward successful conclusions.
In the Doctrine and Covenants we read this: “If thou art sorrowful, call on the Lord thy God with supplication, that your souls may be joyful” (D&C 136:29).
I pray all of us may appreciate the challenges we have and try to improve our attitudes, even though our problems remain the same. Ask help from friends and family. I also testify that Jesus Christ lives and that He will help us through our discouragements if we will humbly ask for His love. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Anne and Kara were both new in their ward when Anne was assigned to minister to Kara and her young family. A friendship quickly developed between the two of them. Anne, a newlywed, enjoyed helping Kara with her four young daughters, who ranged in age from newborn to seven years old. One day, Kara’s baby sustained a skull fracture that required surgery.
Anne jumped in and watched the other children until their grandmother could arrive to take care of them. Once their grandmother arrived, Anne checked with her to see what help she might need, then brought dinner to the family that night. She also arranged for neighbors to bring meals for a few days.
The next day when she checked in on Kara’s family, Anne noticed that one of Kara’s daughters was worried about her baby sister, so Anne invited her to come make cookies to give her some personal attention. Anne also texted the ward council to let them know what had happened and told them she would keep them updated about the situation. During the next week, while the baby received treatment, Anne kept the ward council up to date and saw to the family’s needs. Anne’s help allowed Kara time and peace of mind as a parent in a difficult, scary situation.

In the distance we can hear voices descending through the mountain trees. Looking up the rocky slope, we see three Italian girls, arm in arm, singing and walking toward us. Gradually we recognize the song—a favorite among LDS young women—“I Walk by Faith.” As Iris Cartia, Annalisa Brandonisio, and Stefania Ferrazzano come closer, they all begin talking at once—part in English, part in Italian, and part in French, with a lot of hand gestures. Then Stefania starts to sing a popular Italian song for us, accompanied with dancing and good-natured laughter. Soon, the girls get serious again and sing several LDS hymns. These girls, who range in age from fifteen to seventeen, come from widely different areas and backgrounds in Italy, but it is obvious that they enjoy each other.
Three short whistle blasts—the call to supper. The three girls hesitate for a moment, but supper can wait while they finish sharing expressions of testimony and friendship. After a few more songs from these unpretentious girls, we all reluctantly and slowly return to camp.

On another occasion I met with a less-active woman. I recall entering her home for the first time along with the missionaries and knowing that she had a testimony; she just needed a little bit of “kindling” to help it burn brighter. As we sat in her living room and listened to her, the Spirit was strong and prompted us to bear testimony of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.
In the following months she came to church sporadically. But I was continually led by the Spirit and bore my testimony to her. Today she is active and serving in the branch.

“So it has been all through my life. If I have undertaken to do anything, and the Lord has wanted me to do something else, He has had to tell me. When we were sent to England, we were sent by revelation. I went into the Staffordshire potteries with Brother Alfred Cordon. We were doing a splendid work, baptizing almost every night, and I thought it was the finest mission I ever was on. I went into the town of Hanley one night, and attended meeting in a large hall, which was filled to overflowing. The Spirit of the Lord came upon me and said that that was the last meeting I should hold with that people for many days. I told the people that that was the last meeting I should be with them. After the meeting, they asked me where I was going. I told them I did not know. In the morning I asked the Lord what He wanted of me. He merely said, ‘Go to the south.’ I got into the stage and rode eighty miles. The first man’s house I stopped at was John Benbow’s in Herefordshire. In half an hour after I entered the house I knew exactly why the Lord had sent me. There was a people there who had been praying for the ancient order of things. They were waiting for the Gospel as it was taught by Christ and His Apostles. The consequence was, the first thirty days after I got there I baptized six hundred of those people. In eight month’s labor in that country I brought eighteen hundred into the Church. Why? Because there was a people prepared for the Gospel, and the Lord sent me there to do that work. I have always had to give God the glory for everything good that has happened to me; for I have realized by what power it came.” (Deseret Weekly, 7 Nov. 1896, p. 643.)

On the opposite end of the continent, in the world’s southernmost city of Ushuaia, Argentina, the promise of eternal families caught the attention of Amanda Robledo and her husband, Ricardo. Following the death of her mother, Amanda visited different denominations, hoping the teachings of Jesus Christ could heal her heart. When missionaries later found the couple and taught them that families could be sealed together, Ricardo felt the Holy Spirit and sought baptism. Amanda was similarly touched but remained uncertain due to rumors she had heard. Eventually, her love for her family and desire to be with them forever convinced her to join the Church and be bonded to them through temple ordinances.

“I was born and grew up in the community of Tooele, Utah, where my father managed a newspaper. As a youth, I worked at the newspaper office and also helped take care of the family cows. My brother, Joel, and I had the responsibility of not only taking care of our cows but, during the summer, also gathering our neighbor’s cows and taking them to the fields on the edge of town to graze on the grass. This is how I made my first money. Later, my brother and I worked on a eight-hectare farm on the edge of town which the family owned. We were teenagers and my father wanted to keep us busy.
“One day a neighbor came to Father carrying a list of things we were doing wrong on the farm. After the neighbor finished reading the list aloud, Father sat back in his chair, looked at him, and said, ‘Well, Jim, you don’t understand. I’m raising boys and not cows.’”

My name is Matilda, and I am from Chile. Ever since moving to another country, other kids have made me notice that I am different from them. They have laughed at my curly hair, the color of my eyes, my eyebrows, and even the color of my skin. They have called me ugly and weird and even told me that I am poor because I look different than everyone else.
My mom has taught me to respond to bullying with a smile. She says many times that people who bully are sad or are living with something that hurts them. She has also taught me that it’s not my fault, and being different is something good and wonderful. God created different kinds of things in the world like different plants, places, and people. It doesn’t matter how we look as long as we have a good heart.
Since my mom taught me that, every time I get bullied, I think about it and talk to the person who is saying bad things. I try to stop the situation. Once I told a classmate that saying bad things about others can hurt a lot. I said that he doesn’t know what happens to others in their hearts when they hear bad things about themselves for being different. Since that day, that classmate hasn’t made fun of me anymore, and now we are friends.
I think the way my mom taught me to fight bullying is the best way. She taught me to fight bullying with love, as God would do it. I try to always ask myself, “What would Jesus Christ do in this situation?” This has helped me come closer to our Heavenly Father.

This concern explains why, when I was about 10 years old and attending primary school, my parents made a decision. In Germany you start a higher-education path at a young age. My parents decided not to allow me to go into higher education because they had seen many young people leave the Church while attending these schools at that time. They said, “You can go anywhere, but not to the Gymnasium [university-track school], because we don’t want to lose you to the world!”
That decision meant that I received a basic education and later a vocational education; for me, that meant a degree in business. This limited many of my professional possibilities. I completed my training when I was 18 years old and was called to serve as a missionary in Munich, Germany. I loved being a missionary.
When I finished my mission, I found myself without a lot of career options. I had finished my education. Two years after my mission, I married my wife, Christiane, and there was no chance for me to gain a university education. There was a moment when I felt sad about my parents’ decision because I felt so limited.
Then a thought came to me: “Whatever my parents did, they did to protect me. They did it out of love, and it will not be a disadvantage for me.” Even though at times it seemed to be a disadvantage in a worldly sense, I could now understand that it would never be a real disadvantage. I decided to make a career in the insurance business, and I later became an executive in the company where I worked.
One challenge for me was that I had always wanted to be a teacher, and you cannot be a teacher in Germany without a university education. However, I eventually did become a teacher—a religion teacher. I became a teacher for the Church Educational System. And in a manner of speaking, that is what I am now—a teacher. So I gained a testimony that it is worthwhile to listen to your parents, to follow their counsel, and to trust that they love you, pray for you, and know what is best for you. The desire to stay active in the Church was so strong on my part and the desire to protect me was so strong on my parents’ part that everything did come together for my good.

Eldon was the first of eight children born to Nathan William Tanner and Sara Edna Brown Tanner, and growing up on a pioneer dry farm, he grew up fast. He learned to ride almost before he could walk, and by the age of 12 he was driving a four-horse team 7 1/2 miles to the grain elevators. There was no plumbing, electricity, or telephone. The work was hard and the winters harsh, but young Eldon thrived on it. He decided on his own that his father would never have to wake him up in the morning, even on the days when they were to start working at three or four A.M. Once in his early teens the whole family was stricken with smallpox, and he nursed them, going without sleep for three days and two nights. His father was impressed by the young man’s steadfastness and told him privately that one day he would be an Apostle. Eldon never repeated this to anyone until it had become a fact, but it filled him with joy that the best man he knew thought him worthy of that great calling.

Throughout his life, the Prophet Joseph Smith provided countless examples of courage. One of the most dramatic occurred as he and other brethren were chained together—imagine, chained together—and held in an unfinished cabin next to the courthouse in Richmond, Missouri. Parley P. Pratt, who was among those held captive, wrote of one particular night: “We had lain as if in sleep till the hour of midnight had passed, and our ears and hearts had been pained, while we had listened for hours to the obscene jests, the horrid oaths, the dreadful blasphemies and filthy language of our guards.”

Continued Elder Pratt:

“I had listened till I became so disgusted, shocked, horrified, and so filled with the spirit of indignant justice that I could scarcely refrain from rising upon my feet and rebuking the guards; but [I] had said nothing to Joseph, or any one else, although I lay next to him and knew he was awake. On a sudden he arose to his feet, and spoke in a voice of thunder, or as the roaring lion, uttering, as near as I can recollect, the following words:

“‘SILENCE. … In the name of Jesus Christ I rebuke you, and command you to be still; I will not live another minute and hear such language. Cease such talk, or you or I die THIS INSTANT!’”

Joseph “stood erect in terrible majesty,” as described by Elder Pratt. He was chained, without a weapon, and yet he was calm and dignified. He looked down upon the quailing guards, who were shrinking into a corner or crouching at his feet. These seemingly incorrigible men begged his pardon and remained quiet.

Transfusion number two is entitled “Integrity.” Its donor is the little Indian patriot Mohandas Gandhi, who won the independence of India from England. When Gandhi was very young, he took a pledge to his mother that he would remain a vegetarian throughout his life. Many years after Gandhi’s mother had died, Gandhi became very ill, and the doctors tried to persuade him that if he would drink a little beef broth it might save his life. But Gandhi said, “Even for life itself, we may not do certain things. There is only one course open to me, to die, but never to break my pledge.” Now just think for a minute what kind of a world this would be if each one of us could manifest that kind of integrity before his family and among his friends and before the world generally.