Gospel Story Finder

Such an example is the story of Mervyn Sharp Bennion; I would like to take just a few moments to tell you about it.

Mervyn Sharp Bennion, who became one of the renowned heroes of World War II, was born in the small village of Vernon near Tooele, Utah. He grew up in a faithful Latter-day Saint home and was taught by his parents and according to the scriptures the principles of faith, reverence, respect and regard for others, confidence in himself, a strong sense of right and wrong, and an understanding of the full measure of his purpose of life. Because of his excellent reading ability as a result of studying the Bible as a small boy, he became an outstanding student. He attended school in a one-room log schoolhouse in Vernon; there were usually thirty or more pupils in all grades from the first to the eighth, ages six to twenty-five, with one teacher in the one-room schoolhouse. There was little time for instruction, but they were taught the attributes of a good character and wholesome habits, and they developed their personalities in this one-room schoolhouse with plays and programs in which everyone participated.

Near the close of his high schooling, Mervyn Bennion took a competitive examination and was admitted to the Annapolis Naval Academy. There he continued his character and personality development, resulting in his being number one in his class for the first three years; however, in his fourth year, he dropped back to third in his class because he was tutoring as free service some of the other midshipmen who were having difficulties. He was a sought-out companion and developed all the wonderful attributes of an outstanding young man, this product of a humble Mormon home and a one-room schoolhouse. Upon graduation from Annapolis he was awarded the sword offered every year by the Daughters of the American Revolution for excellence.

Mervyn Bennion continued through the usual duty assignments of a young naval officer, growing in stature and ability and always living close to the Lord. He married Louise Clark, the eldest daughter of President J. Reuben Clark. They had one child, Mervyn, Junior. In his various naval assignments he was called to be Chief of the Bureau of Ordnance in Washington, D.C., a distinguished position. This was after he had commanded a number of ships.

Even though he would be on duty assignment for only a brief period, he was always active in the Church and would always seek out a little branch of the Church somewhere in the world and attend the meetings. But while living in Washington he became a counselor in the branch presidency and later in the first bishopric of the Chevy Chase Ward. They needed priesthood leaders in those early days; they were particularly short of priesthood home teachers, and even though Mervyn was heavily involved at the Navy headquarters, he was completely devoted to his Church calling with all of the time available. As an example, he had thirty home teaching families to visit and made it a point to visit each one every month. Everyone who came in contact with Mervyn Bennion in the Church or in the Navy felt of his great spirit and devotion, because he knew so well his purpose in life and his responsibility.

His last assignment was as the commanding officer of one of the Navy’s largest battleships stationed in Hawaii, the U.S.S. West Virginia. Our country was then at peace. Commanding officers of large ships usually had free time for social life and personal affairs; however, Captain Bennion, because of his dedication and love of his country and his built-in desire to serve well and faithfully, was careful with the use of his time. As an example, on December 6, 1941, a Saturday, Captain Bennion was invited to have dinner in the Honolulu home of President and Sister Ralph Woolley, then president of the Oahu Stake. After a pleasant evening, the Woolleys suggested that Captain Bennion stay overnight and go to Sunday School with them the next morning. But he said that his place was on his ship.

The following morning, Sunday, December 7, 1941, at a few minutes before eight o’clock, Captain Bennion was in his cabin shaving, preparing to leave the ship to go to Sunday School and fast meeting in Honolulu, when a sailor on watch from the bridge dashed in to report a Japanese air attack approaching. Captain Bennion instantly gave the command, “Air attack! To your battle stations!” Then he ran to his own, the conning tower on the flag bridge.

In a few minutes torpedo planes flew in close, letting go torpedoes that struck the U.S.S. West Virginia in rapid succession. Almost immediately bombers flew overhead and hit the U.S.S. West Virginia. Captain Bennion, anxious to see what had happened to his ship, stepped out the door of the conning tower; he had scarcely taken two steps when he was hit by a splinter from a bomb. This splinter tore into his body, and a fragment hit his spine and his left hip. He fell to the floor. Instantly his plight was observed and the pharmacist’s mate came to place a bandage over his abdomen and to try to ease the pain, but it was clear to him and undoubtedly to Captain Bennion that the wound was beyond any hope of mending, though the captain did not say a word to indicate that he knew of this serious condition.

As soon as the wound was given the simplest of dressing, Captain Bennion sent the man below to work with the wounded and refused to be attended further while there was work to be done for others. As men and officers came to him, he briefly asked what was transpiring and gave orders and instructions to meet the conditions as they arose. Only two lives were lost from that ship’s complement that morning: Captain Bennion and one seaman. The wounded were attended to promptly and evacuated from the ship with dispatch.

Captain Bennion was courageous and cheerful. His spirit was reflected in the conduct of his crew. He resisted all efforts to remove him from the bridge with a firmness and vigor that astonished his officers. He talked only of the ship and the men, how the fight was going, what guns were out of action, how to get them in operation again, who was wounded, what care the wounded were receiving, and how to evacuate them from the ship.

At about nine-thirty a.m. fire broke out, cutting off the escape of Captain Bennion and two others. The officers tied him onto a ladder and tried to lift him out, and with some great difficulty and with the ship on fire they carried him up to a navigation bridge to a corner at the rear that seemed to be free from smoke. But Captain Bennion told them to leave him and to save themselves if it were possible. They made him as comfortable as they could.

On the battleship alongside, most of Captain Bennion’s men watched the lone, whiteclad figure lying on the navigation bridge of the ship. A young ensign, Delano, deeply touched by Captain Bennion and deeply attached to him, watched for hours. He said that twice in the first half-hour after Captain Bennion was left alone he saw him stir, rise up on his elbows, look about, and then drop back. The grandeur of this heroic death scene as it unfolded profoundly moved the men of the stricken fleet, and the executive officer of the ship wrote,

“Be assured, Mrs. Bennion, that every person in the West Virginia shares your grief. We are all proud to have served under Captain Bennion and his kindness, cheerfulness and courage will always be remembered by all of us who had the privilege and pleasure of being under his command.” . . .

Thus closed in glorious death a naval career without fault or blemish. [Howard S. Bennion, Mervyn Sharp Bennion: One of the Lord’s Noblemen, p. 19; hereinafter cited as Bennion]

The following morning, when the superstructure had cooled off sufficiently to permit, Captain Bennion’s body was removed from the ship. The spot where he lay had been untouched by fire. Some remarked that he was protected from the fire because he wore a special type of underwear.

The president of the United States, Franklin D. Roosevelt, at that time posthumously awarded Captain Bennion the Congressional Medal of Honor. A camp in the Farragut Naval Training Station in northern Idaho was named Camp Bennion. On July 4, 1943, a destroyer launched at the Boston Navy Yard was christened the U.S.S. Bennion by Louise Clark Bennion. Admiral David Sellers wrote to Sister Bennion, “His complete unforgetfulness of self and devotion to duty to the last has set an example that will serve as an inspiration in years to come to the officers and men of the United States Navy” (quoted in Bennion, p. 20). His dying conduct is now cited in naval training classes as one of the outstanding examples to be found in all United States naval history.

“The most important of all his characteristics was his constant and sincere desire to keep the commandments of God,” wrote his bishop. “He did not think of himself overly righteous, but his sincerity and his ever present desire to live in accordance with God’s laws and to perform the full duty required of him, impressed all who knew him” (quoted in Bennion, p. 20). His characteristics, his purpose, his desire, his faith, his conduct were steadfastly the same. Of course, he had grown in stature and in influence, but inherently he was unchanged. He was started out on the right path by his parents in a little Mormon town, and he kept going straight ahead, his purpose clearly identified. He influenced many, many lives for good. He was a great and devoted member of this Church. We honor his name, his family, and his good works.

My wife, Nancy, is also a convert to the Church. She has mentioned to me many times over the years the joy she has felt in her life since finding, accepting, and living the gospel of Jesus Christ. What follows is a reflection from Sister Maynes on her experience:
“As a young adult in my early 20s, I was at a point in my life when I knew I needed to change something in order to be a happier person. I felt like I was adrift with no real purpose and direction, and I didn’t know where to go to find it. I had always known that Heavenly Father existed and occasionally throughout my life had said prayers, feeling that He listened.
“As I began my search, I attended several different churches but would always fall back into the same feelings and discouragement. I feel very blessed because my prayer for direction and purpose in life was ultimately answered, and the fulness of the gospel of Jesus Christ was brought into my life. For the first time I felt like I had a purpose, and the plan of happiness brought real joy into my life.”

It was Easter Sunday here in Southern Australia, and I was staying at a friend’s house while my mum was away for the weekend. As it turned out, the people that usually provided the music at church had gone away too.
I am only a beginner at the piano, but when asked to play, I reluctantly accepted as there was no one else. That Sunday I realized what an important part the sacrament hymns play in our meetings. Even though I only played with my right hand and missed many notes, the congregation sounded like angels.
I am grateful for the Saints that provide the music for us in sacrament meeting, and even though I was terrified, I am truly grateful for that Sunday because it helped me develop my talents.

For some, the suffering is extraordinary.
Stillman Pond was a member of the Second Quorum of Seventy in Nauvoo. He was an early convert to the Church, having come from Hubbardston, Massachusetts. Like others, he and his wife, Maria, and their children were harassed and driven out of Nauvoo. In September 1846, they became part of the great western migration. The early winter that year brought extreme hardships, including malaria, cholera, and consumption. The family was visited by all three of these diseases.
Maria contracted consumption, and all of the children were stricken with malaria. Three of the children died while moving through the early snows. Stillman buried them on the plains. Maria’s condition worsened because of the grief, pain, and the fever of malaria. She could no longer walk. Weakened and sickly, she gave birth to twins. They were named Joseph and Hyrum, and both died within a few days.
The Stillman Pond family arrived at Winter Quarters and, like many other families, they suffered bitterly while living in a tent. The death of the five children coming across the plains to Winter Quarters was but a beginning.
The journal of Horace K. and Helen Mar Whitney verifies the following regarding four more of the children of Stillman Pond who perished:
“On Wednesday, the 2nd of December 1846, Laura Jane Pond, age 14 years, … died of chills and fever.” Two days later on “Friday, the 4th of December 1846, Harriet M. Pond, age 11 years, … died with chills.” Three days later, “Monday, the 7th of December, 1846, Abigail A. Pond, age 18 years, … died with chills.” Just five weeks later, “Friday, the 15th of January, 1847, Lyman Pond, age 6 years, … died with chills and fever. Four months later, on the 17th of May, 1847, his wife Maria Davis Pond also died. Crossing the plains, Stillman Pond lost nine children and a wife. He became an outstanding colonizer in Utah, and became the senior president of the thirty-fifth Quorum of Seventy. (See Leon Y. and H. Ray Pond, comps., “Stillman Pond, a Biographical Sketch,” in Sterling Forsyth Histories, typescript, Church Historical Dept. Archives, pp. 4–5.)
Having lost these nine children and his wife in crossing the plains, Stillman Pond did not lose his faith. He did not quit. He went forward. He paid a price, as have many others before and since, to become acquainted with God.

President Archie Brugger of the San Antonio East Stake in Texas shared an experience worthy of your interest. While he served in the military (in Germany, I believe), a young officer came to him one day and said, “Colonel Brugger, do you know there are only eight straight arrows in our entire company?” A straight-arrow is a soldier who does not have an illicit affair with a woman. He said, “I know you are a straight-arrow and so am I.” A few weeks later this young officer returned again and said, “Colonel Brugger, now there are only four.” It was only a matter of a few more weeks and he returned a third time and said, “Colonel Brugger, there are only two, you and me.” President Brugger said to this young man: “I intend to remain clean. I am a Mormon and I have a wife back in the United States who is keeping herself clean also while I am away. I trust her and she trusts me, and we both honor the teachings of the Church.” The young man said: “You are leaving in six weeks to go back to the United States and I will remain here. I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.” President Brugger said, “My young friend, if I can do it you can do it. The Lord will help you.”

I had the privilege to serve as the secretary of my deacons quorum. I recall the many assignments we members of that quorum had the opportunity to fill. Passing the sacred sacrament, collecting the monthly fast offerings, and looking after one another come readily to mind. The most frightening one, however, happened at the leadership session of our ward conference. The member of our stake presidency who was presiding called on a number of the ward officers to speak. They did so. Then, without the slightest warning, he stood and said, “We will now call on one of our younger ward officers, Thomas S. Monson, secretary of the deacons quorum, to give us an accounting of his service and to bear his testimony.” I don’t remember a single thing I said, but I have never forgotten the experience or the lesson that it taught me. It was the Apostle Peter who said, “Be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you.”5
In an earlier generation, the Lord gave this promise to holders of the priesthood: “I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up.”6
This is not a time for fear, brethren, but rather a time for faith—a time for each of us who holds the priesthood to be his best self.

I was raised in an active Latter-day Saint family. I went to church every Sunday, read my scriptures every night, prayed every day, and went to seminary and Young Women activities. I even wrote in my journal every day. I thought I knew what the Church was all about, and I believed it was true.
Then one Sunday during an interview, one of the counselors in my bishopric asked me, “Do you have a testimony of this Church?”
“Of course I do,” I replied. Didn’t he know that my parents served actively in their callings, that my brother had just come home from his mission, and that my sister was engaged to be married in the temple? With a family like that, how could I not believe?
He responded, “That is good to know, because I didn’t have a testimony until after I graduated from high school. I always thought I had one, but then I realized that I was leaning on my parents’ testimonies. You need to promise that you will continue to strengthen and nourish your testimony.” I promised him that I would strive harder to make my testimony grow.
On the way home from church, I began to ask myself if I really had a testimony or if I was leaning on my parents’ testimonies.
I recalled a time a few months earlier when I had felt the Spirit so strong. That day I was sure the Church is true. Why had I begun to doubt again? I remembered my seminary teacher telling us that if we ever doubted, to just ask God with real intent, faith in Christ, and a pure heart and we would receive an answer (see Moroni 10:3–5).
That night I went home and prayed and read my scriptures over and over again. “Why am I not getting an answer?” I wondered. My seminary teacher promised I would get an answer. I could feel something, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted more proof to know that the Church is true. It couldn’t just be a feeling; I wanted to know for sure.
My answer didn’t come for a while, but it finally came. One night I was reading in the Doctrine and Covenants, and that is when it all came together for me:
“Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.
“Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater witness can you have than from God?” (D&C 6:22–23).
So many times I had felt the Spirit. So many times I had believed. So many times I had had an overwhelming love for the Church and the Savior. That was the answer. I already knew, so why keep asking? Why did I not nourish the testimony I had?
I realized I couldn’t just expect the answer to come to me. I couldn’t just read my scriptures; I needed to search them. I couldn’t just pray to Heavenly Father; I needed to listen to His answers.
A few weeks later I found counsel by President Harold B. Lee (1899–1973) that described what I needed to do. He said:
“Your testimony is something that you have today but you may not have it always.
“Testimony is as elusive as a moonbeam; it’s as fragile as an orchid; you have to recapture it every morning of your life. You have to hold on by study, by faith, and by prayer. …
“That which you possess today in testimony will not be yours tomorrow unless you do something about it. …
“… Testimony is either going to grow and grow to the brightness of certainty, or it is going to diminish to nothingness, depending upon what we do about it” (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Harold B. Lee [2000], 43).
I know that if I keep listening to Heavenly Father’s answers and searching the scriptures every day, my testimony will be as bright as the sun.

Paulina M., age 18, Podlasie, Poland
Likes to play the violin, play the piano, and read novels.
In middle school I struggled a lot with self-image and trying to fit in. I would try to exercise to look a certain way, but I just didn’t feel happy with the image in the mirror.
Then my older sister got her patriarchal blessing, and I started thinking about getting mine. I was 12 years old, and at first I thought I might be too young. But I prayed and talked to my bishop, and it felt right.
My patriarchal blessing reminded me that Heavenly Father is aware of me and that He knows the struggles I go through. He knows my name personally. He is there to help me if I’m just willing to ask for His help.
Sometimes you might look at yourself and think you’re not pretty enough by the world’s standards. But I learned for myself that God’s view of me is more important than anyone else’s. And if I know that God sees me as His daughter, then that’s all I need.

Keeping a personal history is a fun and easy way to do genealogy work. Young Women in the Castro Valley Second Ward, San Leandro California Stake, found a fun and creative way to get started. Each Young Woman created a time capsule by decorating a new paint can. Then she filled the can with important information and items like newspaper clippings and other memorabilia. Then the cans were sealed.
The Young Women will meet again during Christmas of the year 2001 to open their time capsules and share their memories with each other.
It’s history in the making.

In 1936, 68 years ago, one of the secretaries to the Quorum of the Twelve told me what a member of the Twelve had told her. She said that in the coming general conference there would be announced a program which would come to be recognized as even more noteworthy than the coming of our people to these valleys as pioneers.
Now, parenthetically, you should not tell your secretary what you should keep confidential, and she should not tell anyone else when she is given confidential information.
But that was what happened back then. It never happens today. Oh no! I should add that my able secretaries are never guilty of such a breach of confidentiality.
As you who are acquainted with the history know, there was announced at that time the Church security plan, the name of which was subsequently changed to the Church welfare program.
I wondered back in those days how anything the Church did could eclipse in anyone’s judgment the historic gathering of our people to these western valleys of the United States. That was a movement of such epic proportions that I felt nothing could ever be so noteworthy. But I have discovered something of interest in the last short while.
We receive many prominent visitors in the office of the First Presidency. They include heads of state and ambassadors of nations. A few weeks ago we entertained the mayor of one of the great cities of the world. We have likewise recently entertained the vice president and the ambassador of Ecuador, the ambassador from Lithuania, the ambassador from Belarus, and others. In our conversations, not one of these visitors mentioned the great pioneer journey of our forebears. But each of them, independently, spoke in high praise of our welfare program and our humanitarian efforts.
And so as I speak in this great priesthood meeting, I wish to say a few words concerning our efforts in behalf of those in need, be they members of the Church or otherwise, in various parts of the world.
When the modern welfare program was put in motion, it was designed to take care of the needs of our own people. In the years that have followed, thousands upon thousands have been served. Bishops and Relief Society presidents have had available to them food and clothing and other supplies for those in need. Numberless members of the Church have worked in volunteer capacities in producing that which was required. We now operate 113 storehouses, 63 farms, 105 canneries and home storage centers, 18 food processing and distribution plants, as well as many other facilities.
Not only have the needs of Church members been met, but aid has been extended to countless others. Right here in this Salt Lake City community, many of the hungry are fed daily by non-LDS agencies utilizing LDS welfare supplies.
Here, in this city, and in a number of other places, we operate beautiful stores where there is no cash register, where no money changes hands, where food, clothing, and other necessities are provided to those in distress. I believe that no better milk, no better meat, and no better flour is found on any grocery shelf than that which is distributed from the bishops’ storehouses.
The principles on which these establishments operate are essentially what they were at the beginning.
Those in need are expected to do all they can to provide for themselves. Then families are expected to assist in taking care of their less-fortunate members. And then the resources of the Church are made available.
We believe in and take very seriously the words of our Lord:
“Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:
“For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
“Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me” (Matthew 25:34–36).
This is the Lord’s way of caring for those in need which, He declared, “ye have … always with you” (see Matthew 26:11).
Those who are able voluntarily work to provide for those who are not able. Last year there were 563,000 days of donated labor in welfare facilities. That is the equivalent of a man working eight hours a day for 1,542 years.
A recent issue of the Church News carried the story of a group of farmers in a small Idaho community. May I read briefly from that account?
“It is 6 a.m. in late October, and frost already hangs in the air over the sugar beet fields of Rupert, Idaho.
“The long arms of the ‘beeters’ stretch out over twelve rows, slicing the tops off sugar beets. Behind them, the harvesters thrust their steel fingers into the soil and scoop up the beets, pulling them up toward a belt and into a waiting truck.
“… This is the Rupert Idaho Welfare Farm, and those who are working here today are volunteers. … At times more than 60 machines [are] working in harmony together— … all owned by local farmers.”
The work goes on throughout the day.
“[At] 7 p.m. … the sun has set, leaving the land dark and cold once again. The farmers head home, exhausted and happy.
“They have finished well another day.
“They have harvested the Lord’s sugar beets” (Neil K. Newell, “A Harvest in Idaho,” Church News, Mar. 20, 2004, 16).
Such remarkable volunteer service goes on constantly to assure supplies for the storehouses of the Lord.
Since the early beginnings, the program has moved beyond caring for the needy to the encouragement of preparedness on the part of families of the Church. No one knows when catastrophe might strike—or sickness, or unemployment, or a disabling accident.
Last year the program helped families store 18 million pounds of basic foods against a possible time of need. Hopefully that time will never come. But the good, wholesome, basic food so stored brings peace of mind and also the satisfaction of obedience to counsel.
Now there has been added another element. It began some years ago when drought in Africa brought hunger and death to uncounted numbers. Members of the Church were invited to contribute to a great humanitarian effort to meet the needs of those terribly impoverished people. Your contributions were numerous and generous. The work has continued because there are other serious needs in many places. The outreach of this aid has become a miracle. Millions of pounds of food, medical supplies, blankets, tents, clothing, and other materials have staved off famine and desolation in various parts of the world. Wells have been dug; crops have been planted; lives have been saved. Let me give you an example.
Neil Darlington is a chemical engineer who worked for a large industrial company in Ghana. Eventually he retired.
He and his wife were then called as a missionary couple. They were sent to Ghana. Brother Darlington says, “In areas of famine, disease, and social unrest, we were there as representatives of the Church, extending a helping hand to the destitute, the hungry, the distressed.”
In small villages they drilled new wells and repaired old ones. Those of us who have fresh, clean water in abundance can scarcely appreciate the circumstances of those who are without.
Can you picture this couple, devoted Latter-day Saint missionaries? They drill into the dry earth. Their drill reaches the water table below, and the miracle liquid comes to the surface and spills over the dry and thirsty soil. There is rejoicing. There are tears. There is now water to drink, water with which to wash, water to grow crops. There is nothing more treasured in a dry land than water. How absolutely beautiful is water pouring from a new well.
On one occasion, when the tribal chiefs and the elders of the village gathered to thank them, Brother Darlington asked the chief if he and Sister Darlington could sing a song for them. They looked into the eyes of the dark-skinned men and women before them and sang “I Am a Child of God” as an expression of their common brotherhood.
This one couple, through their efforts, have provided water for an estimated 190,000 people in remote villages and refugee camps. Contemplate, if you will, the miracle of this accomplishment.
And now, literally thousands of their kind—married couples, couples who otherwise might simply have lived out their lives in largely idle pursuits—have served and are serving in scores of ways and in scores of places. They have worked and continue to work in the impoverished areas of America. They have worked, and still do so, in India and Indonesia, in Thailand and Cambodia, in Russia and the Baltic nations. And so the work expands.
Joining with others, the Church has recently provided wheelchairs for some 42,000 disabled persons. Think of what this means to people who literally have had to crawl to get about. With the aid of selfless doctors and nurses, neonatal resuscitation training was provided to nearly 19,000 professionals in the year 2003 alone. The lives of thousands of babies will be spared as a consequence.
Last year some 2,700 individuals were treated for eye problems, and 300 local practitioners were trained in sight-saving procedures. The blind have literally been made to see.
Where devastating floods have come, where earthquakes have created disaster, where hunger has stalked the land, wherever want has been created by whatever cause, representatives of the Church have been there. Some 98 million dollars in cash and in-kind assistance have been distributed in the past year, bringing such aid to a total of 643 million dollars in just 18 years.
I have been a firsthand witness to the effectiveness of our humanitarian efforts. In traveling the world, I have seen the recipients of your generosity. In 1998 I visited the areas of Central America, which had been ravaged by Hurricane Mitch. Here the distribution of food and clothing was quickly organized, and the cleaning and rebuilding of devastated homes and shattered lives was a miracle to behold.
There is not time to go on recounting the reach of these great and significant programs. In extending help we have not asked whether those affected belong to the Church, for we know that each of earth’s children is a child of God worthy of help in time of need. We have done what we have done largely with the left hand not knowing what the right hand is doing. We seek no commendation or thank-yous. It is compensation enough that when we help one of the least of these our Father’s children, we have done it unto Him and His Beloved Son (see Matthew 25:40).
We shall go on in this work. There will always be a need. Hunger and want and catastrophes will ever be with us. And there will always be those whose hearts have been touched by the light of the gospel who will be willing to serve and work and lift the needy of the earth.
As a correlated effort we have established the Perpetual Education Fund. It has come about through your generous contributions. It is now operating in 23 countries. Loans are extended to worthy young men and women for education. Otherwise they would be trapped in the stagnated poverty their parents and forebears have known for generations. Some 10,000 and more are now being assisted, and experience to this date indicates that with such training they are now earning three to four times what was previously possible.
The Spirit of the Lord guides this work. This welfare activity is secular activity, expressing itself in terms of rice and beans, of blankets and tents, of clothing and medicine, of employment and education for better employment. But this so-called secular work is but an outward expression of an inward spirit—the Spirit of the Lord, of whom it was said, He “went about doing good” (Acts 10:38).
May heaven prosper this great program, and may heaven’s blessing rest upon all who serve therein, I humbly pray, in the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

For example, when I had three young children, I was dealing with fibromyalgia while trying to keep a toe in my career by telecommuting five to ten hours per week. I remember the craziness of one general conference weekend. As I was trying to listen, the Spirit spoke three words to me clearly: “Play more music.” While it may seem like that had nothing to do with my situation, the Lord knew that music was exactly the kind of sand my family and I needed at that time.

SISTER BENNETT: When I was your age, I knew I was a beloved daughter of God, and my desires came from wanting to be true to that identity. I was attracted to my future husband because I could see that he was clearly guided by his identity as a son of God.
Yes, we each have difficult circumstances and challenges, but we are not our circumstances—or our challenges.[6] We are beloved sons and daughters of our Heavenly Father.
After my father passed away, I decided I wanted to serve a mission and become a nurse. I was preparing to serve a mission while enrolled in nursing school and decided one evening to attend an institute "ice cream social." While there, I noticed a seemingly shy returned missionary who had been home for only 24 hours. I felt compassion for him, filled a bowl with ice cream, approached him, and said, "Hi, I'm Shelley. Would you like some ice cream?"
ELDER BENNETT: When Shelley offered me that bowl of ice cream, I immediately fell in love—with the ice cream! I was, however, curious about this wonderfully confident, assertive, courageous, and beautiful young woman. Over the course of a few months, we became friends; in fact, we became best friends. I learned that Shelley knew who she really was, and her greatest desire was to return to live with her Heavenly Father.
As I studied the scriptures, pondered, and prayed, I realized that my best friend would make the very best eternal companion for me. After fasting, I knew that God approved of our being together forever. So I summoned the courage and asked Shelley to marry me. She smiled and then said, "NO—I promised God I would serve a mission."
I was crushed! How could I negotiate with that answer? Disappointed but not discouraged, I continued studying, praying, and fasting. Several weeks later, I again asked for her hand in marriage. This time she looked very touched, smiled, and after a long pause said, no—again. But I knew what I felt from the Spirit, and so after a few more weeks, I asked again. This time her answer was absolutely not!
SISTER BENNETT: Now, at no time was he overbearing or claiming to have received revelation for me. He was simply an undaunted returned missionary, and he knew I had to receive my own answer. So he actually did ask a fourth time, but this time he shared a general conference talk with me.
I smile today as I remember him showing me that talk, with the appropriate paragraph well highlighted! The message to me was that a young woman could choose to marry in the temple without feeling guilty about not serving a mission.
He also received a prompting I know was from the Holy Ghost and he followed it. He promised that if I would marry him, we would serve missions together after raising our family. With that promise, I said, "I'll think about it!"
As I read my scriptures and that talk, pondered, prayed, and fasted, I felt a sweet calm about accepting his proposal. I still had fears as our futures were very uncertain. I wasn't finished with university, and he had no education. He also had no job, no car, no home, and no money, and my mother thought he had no future! But faith ultimately overcame fear, and several days after his fourth proposal, I said yes.
I still felt determined to serve a mission, but marrying in the temple was a better decision—the best decision for me—and I trusted that we would eventually serve missions together. He has, by the way, kept that promise!

When I read the article “Darrell, His Mission, and Me” (May 1993), it made me do a lot of thinking. My brother left to go on his mission to North Carolina on July 28. I’ve never really gotten along with him because we’re five years apart. But I started writing him letters, and I feel a lot better about our relationship because he knows a lot more about my feelings. I’m really grateful for the article.
Becky BeldenColumbia, Tennessee

I think one of the beautiful pictures that I remember back in the early days of the program was when we looked up and saw a beautiful field, white with cotton bolls, and then saw the Relief Society sisters, the Primary children, the men and women and children in the rows of cotton with their long bags trailing behind them. They were learning to pick cotton. When they went to weigh, they always were disappointed. They thought they had 150 pounds dragging behind them, and it turned out to be only eight or ten. I remember they were happy; they were doing something that was constructive. They were helping others. I remember sometimes in their happiness they would sing songs like “Way Down Upon the Swanee River.”
I have seen them picking fruit, cherries, apples and peaches, and it seems to me there was a new dimension that had been added when they felt they were doing something constructive, something they did not have to do, something they wanted to do for their own people.

When Samuel Owusu Amako left his native Ghana to go to The Gambia in the hope of having the opportunity to obtain a travel visa, he never imagined that he would spend the rest of his life there helping establish The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in that country. And he could have never imagined that the tender mercies of the Lord would bring him full circle on his journey along the covenant path.
Samuel grew up in Cape Coast, Ghana, as a devoted Seventh-day Adventist. He knew of the Church through his friend Alexander Asare Duodu, a friend from his teenage years who would invite him to services and activities. The lifestyle and conduct of Alexander and others, such as Charles Amoah, Ernest Arko, Stephen Amoah, impressed him greatly, and he began to live his life in accord with those attributes. But whenever he was asked if he’d like to join the Church, which happened to him regularly, he always declined. He admits that part of the reason was fear of telling his mother, who was staunch in her beliefs. And he just wasn’t ready to make the commitment.
One day, after getting another invitation to be baptised, he decided to accept just so that he could be free of the constant invitations. His plan, however, was to just not show up on the day of the baptism. But when the day came, as he explained, he “failed to flee.” He was baptised by Elder Anthony M. Kaku and confirmed by Elder John K. Buah on December 13, 1986.
One year and one month after his baptism, Samuel Owusu Amako was called to serve as a full-time missionary in the Ghana Accra Mission. He began his service in January 1988, and midway during his service, in June 1989, the government of Ghana suspended all Church activities and public meetings. With his missionary service being interrupted for a while, Samuel went to teach in a private elementary school in Cape Coast.
When “the freeze,” as the restrictions were called, was lifted in 1991, he resumed his missionary service. During his mission he encountered people from different parts of the world, and tales of their countries intrigued him. So, after returning home from his mission in December 1991, he made plans with some of his friends from his early days in the Church, who had also completed their missions, to get travel visas and to see the world. Obtaining travel visas in Ghana to certain countries that were of interest to him and his friends proved to be difficult during that time, so in November 1993, he and some of his friends, including his high school classmate Albert Frederick Alexander, who had also joined the Church and had become a returned missionary, left Ghana. They arrived in The Gambia in December 1993 where they had heard it was easier to get travel visas. His friend Charles Amoah was the first among them to travel to The Gambia.
What is interesting is that when Samuel and his friends joined their friend and brother, Charles Amoah, in The Gambia, Samuel’s interest in pursuing his goal of travelling abroad waned considerably for reasons he admits he doesn’t know and he never bothered about. Samuel eventually abandoned his desire to travel abroad from The Gambia. He had somehow found The Gambia as a home, which he now strongly feels that God knows something about that.
In The Gambia, Samuel and his friends met often in the home of his friend Charles Amoah to partake of the sacrament and teach one another. This was in 1994. Sometime during the latter part of 1994, they met the Endecotts. Michael Endecott was a member of the Church from the United States and was living in The Gambia with his family. The friends met in the home of the Endecotts on a couple of occasions till the Endecotts travelled back home to America. During that time, two of the Endecotts’ sons were baptized in The Gambia.
Later all the friends, except Albert Frederick Alexander, left The Gambia. Some travelled back home to Ghana whilst some travelled abroad. Charles Amoah travelled back to Ghana and is currently serving as a counsellor in a mission presidency in Cape Coast; Stephen Amoah travelled to the United States and lives in Utah with his family. Ernest Arko sadly passed away in Cape Coast after a brief illness during one of his visits to Ghana. Samuel Amoah lives in Ghana.
Samuel, however, stayed behind and found employment in The Gambia, hoping to still, at some point, realize his dream. During the early days of his employment, he noticed a beautiful young woman working in another department. As he describes it, “My antenna was switched on,” and he enquired after her, wishing to know if she were married. He was told definitively that she was not, so he approached her to ask for a date. She rebutted him, telling him she was married already. Recounting her response, Samuel laughed and said, “She lied!”
Persistence paid off and eventually his requests for a date proved fruitful. After a period of courtship, Samuel and Fatou Badjan were married. There was no Church presence in The Gambia at that time, and Fatou was Muslim, so they were married civilly and began to raise their family there. But Samuel’s faith and dedication to the Lord never wavered—he knew that the covenant path leads to a temple sealing. Without any formal Church presence in The Gambia, Samuel and his friend Albert F. Alexander met every Sunday with their families to partake of the sacrament. Samuel and his friend sometimes invite friends to join them.
When some members moved into the area, and his missionary efforts continued. The little congregation grew, and for the next 25 years, he welcomed Church members and friends into his home for Church services. These efforts were unofficial as the Church did not have legal status in The Gambia, and the country had not been dedicated for the work of the Lord.
In June 1988, Elder Terrence Vinson, then-President of the Africa West Area Presidency, accompanied by his counsellor, Elder Marcus Nash, visited The Gambia. They met with Samuel, his wife, Fatou, their children Sampson, Daniel, Princess Amelia, Hannah, his sister Juliana Sandra and Albert Frederick Alexander, his longtime good friend, fellow Church member and fellow returned missionary.
Elder Vinson and Elder Nash authorised them to meet as a group and hold sacrament meetings. It was an exciting moment. The two sons of Samuel, namely Sampson and Daniel, were later baptized by Samuel after the visit by the General Authorities.
The year 2022 turned out to be what Samuel describes as the most momentous year in the history of the Church in The Gambia.
In January 2022, President Hugo Martinez, President of the Africa West Area Presidency and his First Counsellor, Elder Larry S. Kacher, also visited The Gambia. They met with Samuel and his family and the group in The Gambia.
In February 2022, Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles came to The Gambia to dedicate the country and to meet with government officials to pave the way for the Church’s legal status.
Fatou Badjan Amako, Samuel’s wife, finally joined the Church and was baptised in February 2022, shortly after Elder Christofferson’s visit.
Finally, on June 10, 2022, the Banjul Branch of The Gambia was formally organized, and Samuel Owusu Amako was made its first branch president. In September of that year, Daniel Nana Kofi Owusu Amako, Samuel’s second son, was called as the first missionary of the Church from The Gambia to serve a full-time mission. He served in the Congo Brazzaville Mission.
Princess Amelia Nana Ama Ahima Amako, Samuel and Fatou’s eldest daughter, joined the Church in October 2022.
In August of 2024, Samuel and members of his branch made the journey from The Gambia to Accra, Ghana. He was returning to the place where he began his missionary service so many years before, and where there is now a temple, so that he and his family could be sealed in the house of the Lord. They met their son Daniel there, who was returning home from his mission just in time for the sealing.
Besides the unspeakable joy of becoming an eternal family, Samuel experienced the additional sweetness and tender mercies of the Lord in a most special way. The president of the Accra Ghana Temple, who sealed Samuel and his wife and children, was John K. Buah, the very same missionary who had confirmed Samuel a member of the Church. And the incoming temple president, who will replace President Buah, is President Anthony M. Kaku, who baptized Samuel. According to Samuel, “God is the unfailing compass of our lives.”
A pioneer in establishing the Church in Gambia, Samuel Owusu Amako reflects on his reasons for going to the Gambia in the first place: to get a travel visa and see the world, something which has never happened. “How did I miss that?” he asked rhetorically with a big smile just before returning to his home with his family. He knows that he was led to The Gambia for a higher purpose, a mission that began on that harmattan-cold December morning in 1986 when he “failed to flee”.

Some months ago I visited a sacrament meeting in another ward. It was a missionary farewell for a friend of mine. After a few words of greeting and the opening song and prayer, the bishop attended to some ward business. Then, looking out across the audience as though there was only one of his flock he cared for at that moment, he asked, “Chad, are you here?”
Immediately the sound of a folding chair knocking noisily against another could be heard. A young boy a few rows ahead of me made his way awkwardly into the aisle. As he turned to maneuver past the chairs, I observed that his facial features showed some abnormality. It appeared that he may not have the same mental abilities as other young people his age. He was facing life with obvious handicaps, or so it seemed.
I watched with others as this young man, with great enthusiasm, literally ran in his awkward way, making his short legs move as fast as possible from the back where he was sitting, up the full length of the chapel.
As the bishop put his protective arm around Chad and drew him close for only a moment, the two looked at each other as though it were a private exchange only they understood. With Chad nestled securely in the fold of his arm, the bishop announced with pride to the audience, “Chad has earned his Duty to God Award. He has qualified in every way.” Then, glancing down at the young man, he said with deep feeling, “We’re all proud of you, Chad.”
Following the presentation there was the usual handshake and an additional warm and sustained embrace. As Chad turned to leave, he broke with tradition and raised his hand high in the air. The bishop understood the signal and responded to Chad’s invitation by raising his hand to meet Chad’s, giving a resounding clap in the air. Outside the meeting he would likely have added the words, “Give ’em five.”
Chad then turned from the bishop, but before leaving the stand moved enthusiastically toward the chorister, who stood and wrapped him in his arms. I learned later that the man was his father.
The young boy then left the podium, making his way down the aisle wearing a broad smile with his arm raised high in the air as if to “give “’em five” to every ward member who had helped him along and now shared in his victory.
It has been months since that memorable Sunday, but in my mind I keep replaying that scene over and over again. What struggles and challenges preceded that day for Chad? Were there times when he might have wanted to give up? Certainly some of the requirements must have been harder for him than they were for others his age. Were there times of discouragement and maybe disappointment? He was smiling when the bishop called him forward to receive his Duty to God Award, but there must have been many times when even duty to God was difficult. I wonder if there were times when Chad, in the privacy of his own heart, asked the Father why—why does it have to be so hard; it doesn’t seem fair. And while he waited for the answer, he kept going.

The following season there arose a great persecution; the Saints were able to escape in the best manner they could. Joseph was carried away in a box nailed on an ox sled to save his life. Old father Joseph was taken out of a window in the night and sent away on horseback.
These are the words of Zera Pulsipher, a third-great-grandfather of mine and probably a number of you—he had a large posterity. He continues:
After most of the saints were gone to Missouri I remained in Kirtland with about four of the First Presidents of Seventies. We continued to hold our meetings in the Temple. Accordingly while we were at a meeting one Sunday, we took a notion to put our property together and remove in that way and when we had made that calculation we felt a great flow of the spirit of God, not withstanding the great inconvenience we labored under for want of means. We lacked means to move ourselves and many poor that were yet remaining had neither clothing nor teams to go with. But when they heard that we were going together and would help one another they wanted to join us and get out of that Hell of persecution. Therefore, we could not neglect them, for all there was against them was that they were poor and could not help themselves. We continued to receive them till we got between five and six hundred on our hands. We counciled together from time to time on the subject and came to the conclusion that we could not effect the purpose short of the marvelous power of God by the power of the Priesthood. Therefore, we concluded to best go into the Temple in the attic story and pray that our Father would open the way and give us means to gather with the saints in Missouri which was near a thousand miles away. Accordingly, one day while we were on our knees in prayer I saw a messenger apparently like an old man with white hair down to his shoulders. He was a very large man near seven feet high, dressed in a white robe down to his ankles. He looked on me then turned his eyes on the others and then to me again and spoke and said, “Be one and you shall have enough.” This gave us great joy; we immediately advised the brothers to scatter and work for anything that they could get that would be useful in moving to a new country. . . . A methodist meeting house stood a few rods from the Temple which took fire one night. . . . Most of the people being very hostile, the mob laid the charge of burning the house to the Council of Seventies . . . but we knew we were innocent and trusted in God. We continued our course steadily along and paid no attention to them. There was a universal determination that we should never leave that place in a company and they knew as well as we that the poor could not go out alone; therefore, they had a deep plot laid for our destruction. . . . But the Lord dictated to the great leader of that mob who had once been a Mormon and well calculated to carry out his devilish designs. . . . He had a vision and saw those that fired the house and seemed to be greatly astonished for a while and then met with the mob and informed them that it was not the Council that burned the house and he knew who it was but dared not tell on account of the law because he could prove only by vision, which they would not believe . . . But he swore by all the Gods that lived that he would have revenge on them if they lost a hair of our heads. He had a large store of goods and could swear and get drunk. He had some influence with them so that we were preserved by the hand of God. We obtained money and clothing for the company and the 4th day of July this man that had led the mob invited me to take all our teams and company and camp in a clover field which was about one feet high. I thanked him and embraced the offer. The next day we all went out all in order as we said we should in the beginning with about 65 teams and seventy cows.

I was born in the Dominican Republic. But at age 15, when my parents divorced, I moved to Spain to live with my mom. I love Spain because of the fun places and good food—especially churros.
My mom joined the Church before I moved in with her. She always had a Book of Mormon in our house. So one day I started reading, and I really identified with Nephi. I attended church, and I could feel the Spirit there. I knew the Church was true, and I was so happy to be baptized at age 16.
I can see the impact being baptized and having the gift of the Holy Ghost have had on my life. My bishop is helping me prepare to serve a mission, and I just received my temple recommend.

Illustrations by Scott Peck
Andrew opens his last birthday present …
It’s a model rocket!
This is the coolest present ever!
Sweet! Let’s put it together.
Dad said I have to wait for him to help.
Whatever. We can do it by ourselves.
That doesn’t really feel right. … But I REALLY want to see it take off.
OK, it’s pretty easy. I mean, I’m 10 now. And 10-year-olds can do basically anything.
Three, two, one … BLAST OFF!
But then …
OH NO! That’s Mr. Warner’s car! We have to tell him!
No way! He’ll be so mad when he sees this!
I’m outta here!
I wish I could run away too. But I know that’s not right.
Andrew runs inside to tell Mom what happened. She calls the fire department.
Now to tell Mr. Warner …
Yes?
Mr. Warner! Your car’s on fire!
That warning feeling I had must have been the Holy Ghost. I should’ve listened!
The seats are burned pretty bad. But it looks like the rest of the car is OK.
I’m so sorry, I’ll pay to fix your car.
Thanks for being honest and for sticking around. I know it wasn’t easy to tell me.
A few days later …
What’s that?
The bill to fix Mr. Warner’s car. It’s going to cost a lot.
I probably don’t have enough.
We can pay right now, and you can work to pay us back.
OK. Thanks for helping me. I’ll work hard and pay it back.
I made a mistake, and I want to fix it. I mean, I’m 10 now. And I can do hard things. Especially when I listen to the Holy Ghost!

As members of the Church enter the London Temple, immediately ahead of them is a reception desk. To the right of this desk, a painting shows a row of buildings in the distance with a bridge in the foreground. The stone bridge crosses the river Monnow and is the way into the little castle town of Skenfrith near Abergavenny.
The river is quite deep in places, and the right-hand side looking from the Bell Inn has steps leading down to the river.
This is the place where the first recorded convert baptism in South Wales, of James W. Palmer, took place on 13 April 1840. The baptism was performed by Wilford Woodruff, one of the Quorum of the Twelve, then serving as a missionary in the British Isles.
James W. Palmer kept a journal while serving as a missionary after his baptism. It includes the following entry in November 1840: “I preached at Skenfrith.” A later journal entry reads, “We now visited Skenfrith again… On Monday I baptised John Preece and William Williams in the river Monnow”.
Thus the story comes full circle, as the first convert to be baptised into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Skenfrith is subsequently instrumental in the conversion and baptism of further converts, there in the river Monnow.