Gospel Story Finder

A friend told me of an experience she had many years ago when she was a teenager. In her ward was a young woman named Sandra who had suffered an injury at birth, resulting in her being somewhat mentally handicapped. Sandra longed to be included with the other girls, but she looked handicapped. She acted handicapped. Her clothing was always ill fitting. She sometimes made inappropriate comments. Although Sandra attended their Mutual activities, it was always the responsibility of the teacher to keep her company and to try to make her feel welcome and valued, since the girls did not.

Then something happened: a new girl of the same age moved into the ward. Nancy was a cute, redheaded, self-confident, popular girl who fit in easily. All the girls wanted to be her friend, but Nancy didn’t limit her friendships. In fact, she went out of her way to befriend Sandra and to make certain she always felt included in everything. Nancy seemed to genuinely like Sandra.

Of course the other girls took note and began wondering why they hadn’t ever befriended Sandra. It now seemed not only acceptable but desirable. Eventually they began to realize what Nancy, by her example, was teaching them: that Sandra was a valuable daughter of our Heavenly Father, that she had a contribution to make, and that she deserved to be treated with love and kindness and positive attention.

By the time Nancy and her family moved from the neighborhood a year or so later, Sandra was a permanent part of the group of young women. My friend said that from then on she and the other girls made certain no one was ever left out, regardless of what might make her different. A valuable, eternal lesson had been learned.

In the summer of 2001, Sister Oaks and I were in Manaus, Brazil. I spoke to about 100 missionaries in that great city on the Amazon. As I stood to speak, I was prompted to put aside some notes I usually use on such occasions and substitute some thoughts on the importance of timing—some of the scriptures and principles I have been discussing here.
I reminded the missionaries that some of our most important plans cannot be brought to pass without the agency and actions of others. A missionary cannot baptize five persons this month without the agency and action of five other persons. A missionary can plan and work and do all within his or her power, but the desired result will depend upon the additional agency and action of others.
Consequently, a missionary’s goals ought to be based upon the missionary’s personal agency and action, not upon the agency or action of others. But this is not the time to elaborate on what I told the missionaries about goals. Instead I will share some other applications of the principle of timing, giving illustrations from our personal lives.
Because of things over which we have no control, we cannot plan and bring to pass everything we desire in our lives. Many important things will occur in our lives that we have not planned, and not all of them will be welcome. Even our most righteous desires may elude us or come in different ways or at different times than we have sought to plan.
For example, we cannot be sure that we will marry as soon as we desire. A marriage that is timely in our view may be our blessing or it may not. My wife Kristen is an example. She did not marry until many years after her mission and her graduation.
The timing of marriage is perhaps the best example of an extremely important event in our lives that is almost impossible to plan. Like other important mortal events that depend on the agency of others or the will and timing of the Lord, marriage cannot be anticipated or planned with certainty. We can and should work for and pray for our righteous desires, but despite this, many will remain single well beyond their desired time for marriage.
So what should be done in the meantime? Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ prepares us for whatever life brings. This kind of faith prepares us to deal with life’s opportunities—to take advantage of those that are received and to persist through the disappointments of those that are lost. In the exercise of that faith, we should commit ourselves to the priorities and standards we will follow on matters we do not control and persist faithfully in those commitments, whatever happens to us because of the agency of others or the timing of the Lord. When we do this, we will have a constancy in our lives that will give us direction and peace. Whatever the circumstances beyond our control, our commitments and standards can be constant.
The commitments and service of adult singles can anchor them through the difficult years of waiting for the right time and the right person. Their commitments and service can also inspire and strengthen others. Wise are those who make this commitment: I will put the Lord first in my life, and I will keep His commandments. The performance of that commitment is within everyone’s control. We can fulfill that commitment without regard to what others decide to do, and that commitment will anchor us no matter what timing the Lord directs for the most important events in our lives.
Do you see the difference between committing to what you will do, in contrast with trying to plan that you will be married by the time you graduate or that you will earn at least X amount of dollars on your first job?
If we have faith in God and if we are committed to the fundamentals of keeping His commandments and putting Him first in our lives, we do not need to plan every single event—even every important event—and we should not feel rejected or depressed if some things—even some very important things—do not happen at the time we had planned or hoped or prayed.
Commit yourself to put the Lord first in your life, keep His commandments, and do what the Lord’s servants ask you to do. Then your feet are on the pathway to eternal life. Then it does not matter whether you are called to be a bishop or a Relief Society president, whether you are married or single, or whether you die tomorrow. You do not know what will happen. Do your best on what is fundamental and personal and then trust in the Lord and His timing.
Life has some strange turns. I will share some personal experiences that illustrate this.
When I was a young man I thought I would serve a mission. I graduated from high school in June 1950. Thousands of miles away, one week after that high school graduation, a North Korean army crossed the 38th parallel, and our country was at war. I was 17 years old, but as a member of the Utah National Guard, I was soon under orders to prepare for mobilization and active service. Suddenly, for me and for many other young men of my generation, the full-time mission we had planned or hoped for was not to be.
Another example: After I served as president of Brigham Young University for nine years, I was released. A few months later the governor of the state of Utah appointed me to a 10-year term on the supreme court of the state. I was then 48 years old. My wife June and I tried to plan the rest of our lives. We wanted to serve the full-time mission neither of us had been privileged to serve. We planned that I would serve 20 years on the state supreme court. Then, at the end of two 10-year terms, when I would be nearly 69 years old, I would retire from the supreme court and we would submit our missionary papers and serve a mission as a couple.
I had my 69th birthday two years ago and was vividly reminded of that important plan. If things had gone as we planned, I would have submitted papers to serve a mission with my wife June.
Four years after we made that plan I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles—something we never dreamed would happen. Realizing then that the Lord had different plans and different timing than we had assumed, I resigned as a justice of the supreme court. But this was not the end of the important differences. When I was 66, my wife June died of cancer. Two years later I married Kristen McMain, the eternal companion who now stands at my side.
How fundamentally different my life is than I had sought to plan! My professional life has changed. My personal life has changed. But the commitment I made to the Lord—to put Him first in my life and to be ready for whatever He would have me do—has carried me through these changes of eternal importance.
Faith and trust in the Lord give us the strength to accept and persist, whatever happens in our lives. I did not know why I received a “no” answer to my prayers for the recovery of my wife of many years, but the Lord gave me a witness that this was His will, and He gave me the strength to accept it. Two years after her death, I met the wonderful woman who is now my wife for eternity. And I know that this also was the will of the Lord.
I return to the subject with which I began. Do not rely on planning every event of your life—even every important event. Stand ready to accept the Lord’s planning and the agency of others in matters that inevitably affect you. Plan, of course, but fix your planning on personal commitments that will carry you through no matter what happens. Anchor your life to eternal principles, and act upon those principles whatever the circumstances and whatever the actions of others. Then you can await the Lord’s timing and be sure of the outcome in eternity.
The most important principle of timing is to take the long view. Mortality is just a small slice of eternity, but how we conduct ourselves here—what we become by our actions and desires, confirmed by our covenants and the ordinances administered to us by proper authority—will shape our destiny for all eternity. As the prophet Amulek taught, “This life is the time for men to prepare to meet God” (Alma 34:32). That reality should help us take the long view—the timing of eternity.
I pray that each of us will hear and heed the word of the Lord on how to conduct ourselves in mortality and set our standards and make our commitments so that we can be in harmony and in tune with the timing of our Father in Heaven.

I used to be one of those people you describe. The things I said about the Church were not good. I had some friends who were LDS—good, faithful people, and the things I said hurt them. But I didn’t know that what I was doing was wrong.
In that group of friends the Lord gave me a special blessing. They saw beyond my words to my heart and loved the person even though the words hurt. I will be forever grateful for that mature, Christlike love that looked on the “inward man.” Because of that love I read the Book of Mormon and listened to the missionaries. I could never take back the wrongs I had done, but I could set the record straight. I joined the Church and served a full-time mission.
There is no “secret formula,” no way to “prove” what you believe to be true. Only the love of the Master will change people. Since you are his disciple, I ask you to love those kids at school the same way I was loved. Their lives will change, and so will yours.
D. Layne Bell, 23Boise, Idaho

When it comes to challenges in the gospel, I don’t usually have the support of my family. I’m the only active Church member in my family, besides my sister who is away at college. This sometimes feels like an enormous burden on my shoulders. I know that my family is watching me closely, and my mistakes could hurt more than just me.
Sometimes I become frustrated watching bad things happen in my family when I know that the gospel could help. I used to try to force the gospel on my family. I would ask my mom, “If you really loved me, wouldn’t you want to be sealed to me forever?”
Although life with my family has been challenging it has also been rewarding. I’m gaining a stronger testimony of the blessings and happiness that come from the gospel. I’ve stopped trying to force or scare my family into going to church, and I’m trying to lead with love rather than with fear. Whenever my little sister comes to church, it fills my soul with joy. I know a seed of faith has been planted, and being a good example to her has become my greatest blessing.

I ran the soup kitchen at the Food and Care Coalition in Provo, Utah, for 11 years. We encouraged our patrons to help us when they could. One man, Mike (name has been changed), had been living in his car for about four years. He always volunteered to help, and I appreciated everything he did for me.
It was the Christmas season, and I wanted to show my appreciation, so I gave him a Christmas card with a short message expressing my thanks and a book of tickets to the dollar-movie theater that was close by. Mike was overwhelmed. He thanked me several times and said he couldn’t remember the last time he had received a present from anyone.
This happened at about noon on Christmas Eve. After dinner that evening, Mike came to me and apologized for having given away two of the movie tickets. I told him they were his, and he could do whatever he wanted with them. He said, “Well, this lady was sitting across from me at dinner. I’d never seen her before, but she told me it was her birthday and she hadn’t received any presents. So I gave her one of the tickets.”
“Then, there was a man sitting by me,” Mike continued. “We got to talking. I found out he was leaving on the bus tonight, but it didn’t leave until 11:00 p.m., and he had nowhere to wait until it came. I gave him one of the tickets so he could go in where it was warm and watch a movie.”
I was so teary eyed and choked up that I could hardly tell him what a generous and Christlike thing he had done.

I just finished reading “When a Friend Dies” in the April 1987 issue, and I really feel strongly to write and thank you for this article. Two weeks ago four of my friends died in an accident. When I heard what had happened, I was totally shocked. Then it sank in and pain and emptiness just overwhelmed me. That day when I went to school everyone was upset and felt the same sense of loss that I felt.
But the understanding of the gospel, my prayers, and the scriptures have helped me to understand and go on with my life.
The pain of losing such good friends is still there, and I will never forget them. But now when I have that giant question “Why?” I can go back to this article and it will definitely help me out.
Thank you so much for your perfect timing, your wonderful magazine, and the best article in the world.

The name Rudger Clawson will, unfortunately, be unfamiliar to many of you. For forty-five years Brother Clawson was a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and for twenty-two of those years served as the president of that quorum. But long before any of those responsibilities came to him, he had a chance to prove his faithfulness and demonstrate in his youth just how willing he was to defend his beliefs, even at the peril of his life.

As a young man Brother Clawson had been called on a mission to the Southern States. At that time in America’s history, well over one hundred years ago, malicious mobs were still in existence, outlaws who threatened the safety of members of the Church and others. Elder Clawson and his missionary companion, Elder Joseph Standing, were traveling on foot to a missionary conference when, nearing their destination, they were suddenly confronted by twelve armed and angry men on horseback.

With cocked rifles and revolvers shoved in their faces, the two elders were repeatedly struck and occasionally knocked to the ground as they were led away from their prescribed path and forced to walk deep into the nearby woods. Elder Joseph Standing, knowing what might lie in store for them, made a bold move and seized a pistol within his reach. Instantly one of the assailants turned his gun on young Standing and fired. Another mobber, pointing to Elder Clawson, said, “Shoot that man.” In response every weapon in the circle was turned on him.

It seemed to this young elder that his fate was to be the same as that of his fallen brother. He said: “I … at once realized there was no avenue of escape. My time had come. … My turn to follow Joseph Standing was at hand.” He folded his arms, looked his assailants in the face, and said, “Shoot.”

Whether stunned by this young elder’s courage or now fearfully aware of what they had already done to his companion, we cannot know, but someone in that fateful moment shouted, “Don’t shoot,” and one by one the guns were lowered. Terribly shaken but driven by loyalty to his missionary companion, Elder Clawson continued to defy the mob. Never certain that he might not yet be shot, young Rudger, often working and walking with his back to the mob, was able to carry the body of his slain companion to a safe haven where he performed the last act of kindness for his fallen friend. There he gently washed the bloody stains from the missionary’s body and prepared it for the long train ride home (in David S. Hoopes and Roy Hoopes, The Making of a Mormon Apostle: The Story of Rudger Clawson [New York: Madison Books, 1990], pp. 23–31).

I tell that story with some concern, hoping no one will dwell on the death of a young missionary or think gospel living brought only trials or tragedies in those early years. But I do share it for an ever younger and ever newer generation in the Church who may not know the gifts that earlier men and women—including young men and women—have given us in what our new film states simply in another single word—Legacy.

The bell rang. Molly put her books in her bag. School was over, and she couldn’t wait for the weekend!
“Remember to be ready for your history reports on Monday,” said Mr. Miller. “Have a good weekend, class.”
Molly looked over at Anisha. Her head was down, and she looked worried.
“Hey, Anisha,” said Molly. “Are you OK?”
Anisha sighed. “I’m scared to give my report on Monday. I’ve worked hard on my English since we moved here. But the words in our history book are hard for me to say.”
Molly thought about that. It would be so hard to move to a different country and learn a new language.
“Would it help if we practiced together?” asked Molly.
Anisha nodded. “I would like that. Maybe we can study our vocabulary words too.”
“Sure,” said Molly. “That would help both of us!”
On Monday morning, Mr. Miller stood in front of the class. “We will start class today with our reports.”
Molly turned and gave Anisha a smile. Anisha smiled back, but Molly could see worry in her eyes.
A few other people gave their reports. Then it was Anisha’s turn. People giggled as she walked to the front of the class. Some of them pointed at her and whispered.
Anisha took a big breath. The paper she was holding shook a little.
Molly said a silent prayer. Heavenly Father, please help Anisha do well on her report. And please help me know how I can help her.
The teacher asked the students to listen quietly. But Molly still heard whispering. When Anisha tried to say the hard words, a few people laughed. Molly wished she could make the kids stop giggling and whispering. She made sure to smile whenever Anisha looked at her.
When Anisha finished, she walked back to her desk. Molly saw tears in Anisha’s eyes. Anisha put her head down on her desk.
Then it was Molly’s turn. She walked to the front of the room. “Before I start, I want to say that Anisha did a great job on her report.”
Anisha looked up.
“She has only lived here for a few months, and she’s already so good at English. She works hard and doesn’t give up. I hope I can be brave like she is.”
After class Molly grabbed her books. She wanted to talk to Anisha. But lots of other students were already gathered around Anisha. They were saying nice things to her.
“Good job on your report, Anisha!” one boy said.
“Some of the names of people and places were very hard to say!” said another girl.
Molly smiled and said another silent prayer. She thanked Heavenly Father for helping her be brave like Anisha.

It was just an old board Kristen and I had found—maybe 10 feet long and just wide enough to sit on. The desert sun had already started to turn the board gray. But, even faded, it was the perfect addition to our makeshift playground. In fact, other than a lot of sand and a few toy trucks, it was the only thing in our playground. Laid across a big rock sticking up in the backyard, that old board became a teeter-totter, kind of like the one at the park by Grandma’s house. Of course, our teeter-totter didn’t go as high as the one at the park. But it was ours.
One day we were teetering and tottering when a couple of men came to visit. I didn’t know what they wanted, but they talked to Mom in the kitchen for a while. Kristen, who was a year older than I was, said they were from church—the new one we had just started going to. One of them was young, and the other had white hair and a white beard. He was the oldest man I’d ever seen. As they were leaving, the old man walked over to us and watched as we went up and down on the teeter-totter.
“That’s a nice looking board you have there,” he said. “Would you mind if I took it with me for a while? I could sure use a board like that.”
We both looked at Mom, who was standing by the kitchen door. She told us to give the man the board. So Kristen and I got off our teeter-totter, and the man put the board in his truck. He and the man with him said good-bye and drove away.
“Mom, what were those men doing here?” I grumbled.
“They’re our home teachers; the church we went to on Sunday sent them to make sure we’re okay.”
“I’m okay, but I was better when I had my teeter-totter.”
Mom ran her fingers through my hair. “I know, honey. It’s almost dinnertime. Go inside and wash up.”
Most kids would have probably put up a fuss when someone took their favorite toy, but we knew if Mom said it, we should do it.
That night, Morn said the old man’s name was Brother Andelin. My four-year-old mouth had to work to get his name right. Mom said Brother Andelin lived on the other side of town but would come and visit again.
A few days later, I was on the porch when Brother Andelin’s truck came rattling up the drive.
“Hello, Bobby. Would you like to see what I built out of that board you gave me?” he said, getting out of his truck.
I ran behind him to the back of his truck. He pulled out the board, now painted green with a seat and handle at each end. In the middle, on either side, were some steel rings. Also in the truck was a big, wooden, pyramid-shaped box, painted the same color as the board.
“Is your sister here?” Brother Andelin asked. “Run and get her while I set this up in the yard.”
I ran into the kitchen and down the hall. “Kristen,” I yelled, gasping for air. “Brother Andelin brought our board. But he, he—come see.”
Mom followed as Kristen and I ran outside. Brother Andelin had fastened the board on top of the box.
“It’s a real teeter-totter,” Kristen whispered to me. “Is it for us?”
“I don’t know. Ask him.”
“You ask him.”
“Brother Andelin,” I said, stepping closer, “is this for us? For keeps?”
“It’s your board, isn’t it?” he said. “Besides, what am I gonna do with a seesaw? My kids have all grown up.”
Kristen and I climbed on the new teeter-totter. It wasn’t like before. When we went up, we went off the ground way up in the air. Brother Andelin laughed as we played, his teeth smiling from behind his long, white beard.
After that, when Brother Andelin visited, Kristen and I didn’t keep playing. We would go inside to listen to his stories about growing up in Utah, about his pioneer grandpa, and about this new church we were going to.

Annie was so excited. Mom was going to pick wild mushrooms with her friend, Miss Maria. And she said Annie could come too! So could three of her siblings who were old enough.
“OK,” Mom said before they left. “I’m letting you come because I know you can be really good listeners. That’s super important while we look for mushrooms. Some wild mushrooms are delicious. But some mushrooms are poisonous. They will make you sick. So can you all promise to do exactly what Miss Maria says?”
“Yes!” Annie and her siblings shouted. Annie, Autumn, Gideon, and Adelaide grabbed their baskets and walked to the forest to meet Miss Maria.
Miss Maria was a mushroom expert. She had been taught how to find safe mushrooms to eat in the Bavarian Forest in Germany.
“Hey, kids!” Miss Maria said. “Who’s ready to find some mushrooms?”
Annie and her siblings cheered. “Me! Me!”
“Great!” Miss Maria said. “Now remember, you can only touch or pick the mushrooms that I say are safe.”
Annie and the others promised again to be good listeners. Then they followed Miss Maria into the forest.
The sun was bright as they walked across the moss-covered ground. There were mushrooms all over! There were orange, white, red, and brown mushrooms. Some were big. Some were little.
Annie’s favorites were the red mushrooms with white polka dots. They reminded her of fairy tales. But she listened when Miss Maria told her not to touch them. Those mushrooms were beautiful but very poisonous!
Miss Maria guided them carefully. Annie and her siblings were good listeners, just like they promised.
They also got to help in other ways. Autumn took pictures of the mushrooms. When Miss Maria found mushrooms that were safe to eat, Gideon carefully cut the stems. Then Annie and Adelaide carried them in the baskets.
Finally it was time to go home. Miss Maria reminded them to wash their hands with soap and water as soon as they got back.
“Thank you for showing us the forest and helping us with the mushrooms,” Annie said.
Miss Maria smiled. “Thank you for being good listeners!”
For dinner that night, Dad cooked potatoes, sausage, and eggs with an extra-special ingredient. Mushrooms!
“Yum,” Annie said as she took another bite. “These taste so good!”
“It’s a good thing Miss Maria knew which mushrooms were safe to eat,” Mom said.
“And it’s a good thing we listened to what Miss Maria said!” said Autumn.
Annie thought for a moment. “Is that kind of like how we need to listen to the Holy Ghost?” Annie was getting ready to be baptized and confirmed. She was learning about what it meant to have the gift of the Holy Ghost.
Mom nodded. “Yes! The Holy Ghost can help us know what’s right and good. Kind of like how Miss Maria helped us know which mushrooms were good to eat.”
“So it’s important to listen carefully to the Holy Ghost,” said Dad.
“Exactly,” Mom said.
“I’m glad the Holy Ghost can help keep us safe,” Annie said. And with that, she smiled and took another big bite of delicious mushrooms.

Later I remarried and moved to a new ward, where I was called as the Relief Society president. One day while I was cleaning my house, I had the distinct impression to visit a less-active sister who had recently lost her husband. I brushed away the thought, thinking that I needed to do other things that day. I’m embarrassed to say I received the same impression two more times before I finally acted on it.
When I arrived at the sister’s house that evening, it was dark. I rang the doorbell and waited. I knocked loudly and waited some more.
As I turned to leave, the porch light came on, and the door slowly opened. The sister hesitantly poked her head through the opening. I will never forget what she asked: “How did you know to come?” She told me she had spent the whole day crying and felt that she couldn’t go on without her husband.
We talked for a couple of hours that night. I don’t remember much of what we said, but I do remember telling her, “I truly know what you are going through.” I assured her that time was her friend and that the Lord would watch over her. As we talked, I noticed that the grief-stricken look on her face had been replaced with an expression of peace.
At the end of our conversation, I gave her a heartfelt hug. I felt so thankful that I had been prompted to visit her. I knew that our loving Heavenly Father had allowed me to help Him help this sweet sister in her time of need.

In the fall of 1920, 21-year-old Ezra Taft Benson traveled from his family’s farm in Whitney, Idaho, USA, to Logan, Utah, where he enrolled at the Utah Agricultural College (now Utah State University). One day when he was with some friends on the school’s campus, a young woman stole his attention. He later recalled:
“We were out by the dairy barns when a young woman—very attractive and beautiful—drove by in her little car on her way to the dairy to get some milk. As the boys waved at her, she waved back. I said, ‘Who is that girl?’ They said ‘That’s Flora Amussen.’
“I told them, ‘You know, I’ve just had the impression I’m going to marry her.’”
Ezra’s friends were amused by this announcement. They said, “She’s too popular for a farm boy.” His response? “That makes it all the more interesting.”3
Ezra’s friends couldn’t have been more wrong in their judgment of Flora Amussen. Since her teenage years, she had seen something special in men who worked the land. One day when her mother, Barbara, told her “that she could not attain the highest degree of glory without celestial marriage, Flora replied, perhaps naively but with some insight, ‘Then I want to marry a poor man materially, but rich spiritually, so we can get what we get together.’ After a pause she added, ‘I’d like to marry a farmer.’”4
Flora and Ezra met later in 1920, and their friendship soon became courtship. In Ezra Taft Benson, Flora found a young man who had begun to accumulate the spiritual riches she valued so much. And as she must have expected, the roots of his spiritual strength went deep into the soil of his family’s farm.
To read about how farm life shaped Ezra Taft Benson’s character, see Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Ezra Taft Benson, pages 2–5.
Just when Flora and Ezra were beginning to grow closer to each other, they learned that they would be separated for two years. Ezra received a call to serve in the British Mission. He and Flora were excited about his opportunity to serve, and they “talked about their relationship. They wanted their friendship to continue, but they also recognized the need for Ezra to be a devoted missionary. ‘Before I left, Flora and I had decided to write [letters] only once a month,’ he said. ‘We also decided that our letters would be of encouragement, confidence and news. We did just that.’”5
In approaching the mission call this way, they exemplified a truth Ezra would teach the Saints many years later: “When we put God first, all other things fall into their proper place or drop out of our lives. Our love of the Lord will govern the claims for our affection, the demands on our time, the interests we pursue, and the order of our priorities.”6
As Ezra approached the end of his mission, he and Flora looked forward to seeing each other. But Flora “did more than anticipate the immediate prospect of spending time with him. She truly looked forward—to his future and his potential. … She was happy with Ezra’s apparent desire to settle on the family farm in Whitney, Idaho. However, she felt that he needed to finish his education first.”7 In her effort to help him do so, she joined him in putting God first. Less than a year after he returned from his mission, she surprised him by telling him that she was going to serve a mission herself. To learn more about her decision, see pages 10–11.
To read accounts of Ezra Taft Benson’s service as a full-time missionary, see pages 9–10 and 103–4 in the manual. To read about his service in post–World War II Europe during his apostleship, see pages 17–21, 54–55, 69–70, 264, and 268.
Flora and Ezra were sealed in the Salt Lake Temple on September 10, 1926. Despite Ezra’s innate goodness and his success in school, “some people continued to question Flora’s judgment. They did not understand why someone so accomplished, wealthy, and popular would settle for a farm boy. But she continued to say that she had ‘always wanted to marry a farmer.’ Ezra ‘was practical, sensible and solid,’ she said. And, she observed, ‘He was sweet to his parents, and I knew if he respected them, he’d respect me.’ She recognized that he was ‘a diamond in the rough,’ and she said, ‘I am going to do all within my power to help him be known and felt for good, not only in this little community but for the entire world to know him.’”8
With this vision of her husband’s potential, Flora happily went wherever they needed to go to provide for their children and serve the Church, their community, and their nation. This sometimes required her to live a simpler life than she had been accustomed to, but she embraced the challenge.
For example, on their wedding day, “the only festivity … was a breakfast for family and friends. After the breakfast, the new couple left immediately in their Model T Ford pickup truck for Ames, Iowa,” where Ezra would pursue a master’s degree in agricultural economics. “Along the way, they spent eight nights in a leaky tent. When they arrived in Ames, they rented an apartment one block from the college campus. The apartment was small, and the Bensons shared the space with a large family of cockroaches, but Ezra said that ‘it soon looked like the coziest little cottage one could ever imagine.’”9
As Ezra became more “diamond” and less “rough,” he became increasingly more involved in service outside the home. This led to a refining process for Flora as well. When he was away she sometimes struggled with loneliness and discouragement. But she loved being a wife and mother, and she expressed gratitude for her husband’s goodness and for his devotion to the family. To learn more about Flora and Ezra’s early marriage and parenthood, see pages 12–15.
Flora and Ezra enjoying a day with their six children.
On July 27, 1943, Flora received a phone call from her husband. He was in Salt Lake City, Utah, preparing to return from a business trip with their son Reed. She was at their home near Washington, D.C., about 2,000 miles (3,200 km) away. After a sleepless night full of prayer and tears, he telephoned to let her know that the previous day he had been called to serve as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
The news did not surprise Flora. She “had had a strong impression that something of magnitude would happen on [her husband’s] trip.”10 She expressed confidence in Ezra, and her words had a calming effect on him. He later recalled: “It was reassuring to talk to her. She has always shown more faith in me than I have myself.”11
Even though Flora had confidence in her husband, she knew he could not fulfill his calling alone—he needed support from his family and strength from heaven. At one general conference, a whispered message demonstrated Flora’s love for her husband and her understanding of his reliance on the Lord (see pages 48–49).
Flora received another life-changing phone call from her husband on November 24, 1952. This time he was visiting the Washington, D.C., area, and she was at their home in Salt Lake City. Dwight D. Eisenhower, who would soon begin his service as president of the United States, had just asked Elder Benson to serve as his secretary of agriculture, a high-ranking position that would require great sacrifice and dedication. Elder Benson accepted the position, having been counseled to do so by the President of the Church, David O. McKay (1873–1970).
When Elder Benson told Flora that President-Elect Eisenhower had offered him a position and that he had accepted, she replied, “I knew he would. And I knew you would accept.” She acknowledged that it would be difficult for the family but added, “It seems to be God’s will.”12
Elder Benson served as secretary of agriculture for eight years. During that time, the family endured periods of separation, and Elder Benson had to deal with the criticism and adulation that often accompany public service. The Bensons received great opportunities. For example, Elder Benson once took Flora and their daughters Beverly and Bonnie on a four-week trip in which he worked to establish trade relations with 12 different countries (see pages 181–82). An invitation from a news reporter led to a unique missionary experience for the family (see page 24).
Elder Ezra Taft Benson served as United States secretary of agriculture for eight years while he was also serving as an Apostle. To read how he fulfilled these responsibilities, see pages 21–25 and 47–48.
Like all Presidents of the Church, Ezra Taft Benson was foreordained for his calling. But on his own he could not have fulfilled that foreordination or served with such strength. Certainly no other person influenced him as much as Flora did. In the Church and in their family, they worked side by side as powerful instruments in the Lord’s hands.
Just as President and Sister Benson kneeled together when they learned that he would preside over the Church, they worked together to “move the work forward in the earth.”13 As she had hoped when she was a teenager, they got what they wanted—together.14
From the pulpit, President Benson exhorted Latter-day Saints to flood the earth and their lives with the Book of Mormon (see chapters 9–10). At home, Flora read the Book of Mormon to him every day, and then they discussed what they had read.15 From the pulpit, President Benson urged the Saints to regularly serve and worship in the temple (see chapter 13). Privately, Flora and Ezra Benson attended the temple every Friday morning when they were able to do so.16 From the pulpit, President Benson warned of the sin of pride and the “applause of the world.”17 But even though Flora had succeeded in helping “the entire world to know him,”18 they were content, together, with the quiet “applause of heaven.”19
President Ezra Taft Benson delivered hundreds of sermons as an Apostle and President of the Church. It is difficult to imagine any of those sermons without the influence of that three-word sermon he delivered on November 11, 1985: “Flora and I.”

“I had been taught to obey the Word of Wisdom, and I earnestly tried to obey it all my life. When I was married and a young bishop and the father of three children, my brother and I were involved in a serious car accident. I walked to get help for the other people in the accident, who were unconscious. By the time I got to the hospital myself, I’d lost a great deal of blood, and the doctors thought that I wouldn’t live. I asked the Lord to let me live to fulfill my responsibilities as husband, father, and bishop, and I heard a voice speaking, just as clearly as I might speak to you, say that because I had lived the Word of Wisdom all my life, I would ‘run and not be weary, and … walk and not faint’ [D&C 89:20] and that I would receive even more blessings. When my wife arrived at the hospital, someone suggested that she not go into my room because I looked so terrible. She asked, ‘Is he breathing?’ and went in anyway. She also received the same witness that I would live.”

For instance, consider my friend Bob and his watchcare over an elder who smoked. Nearly every morning, Bob would see a fellow member of his quorum and pray with him to help him overcome smoking and then give him a pack of Lifesavers or package of gum to help him during the day. Later, Bob would see him and his wife with hands linked across the temple altar, sealed for eternity. What was it that changed and helped to bring this all about? The gospel and “the heart and a willing mind.”

This is the story of Patrick and Elizabeth Appianti:
Sister Appianti: “One Saturday afternoon, I met missionaries teaching my mum as I visited her. They invited me to join the lesson, but I declined. I met them many times as I kept visiting my mum, but I always turned down the invitation to join the discussion. One Sunday as I was going to the usual church I had been attending, I got a prompting when the vehicle got to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I alighted and entered the premises. The warmth of the members and the missionaries as they welcomed me informed my decision to start meeting with the missionaries. They introduced the Book of Mormon and taught of the Restoration. After studying the testimonies of the Three and the Eight Witnesses, I was touched as it reminded me of the Lord’s mercies, and I made a decision to be baptized.”

—A pot-holdered-hand pulled a door down, an oven light went on, and a wonderful, sweet smell filled the room. Another concoction was complete to add to the menu of a tea the young women of the Ashington Branch, Sunderland England Stake, were preparing for senior citizens in their community.
Not only did the young women share food, but they also shared a program of songs, thoughts, and prayers. “We wanted to show them how much they are appreciated for all their hard work,” says Rachel Woodward.

They started to raise their family from a very humble single attic-room apartment in the heart of Amsterdam. After several years of washing their clothes by hand, they had finally saved up enough money to purchase a washing machine. Just before they would make the purchase, the bishop visited them, asking for a contribution to build the meetinghouse in Amsterdam. They decided to give all they had saved for the washing machine and continued to do the laundry by hand. As a family we went through some hardships, just like any other family. These have only made us stronger and have deepened our faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, just like when Alma was sharing his story with his son Helaman, where he told him that he had been “supported under trials and troubles of every kind” because he had put his trust in the Lord Jesus Christ. How did two people who experienced so many trials in their younger years become the very best parents I could ever wish for? The answer is simple: they fully embraced the gospel and live by their covenants to this very day! After more than 65 years of marriage, my mother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, passed away in February. My father, at the age of 92 and still living at home, visited her as often as he could until she passed away. Some time ago he mentioned to my younger siblings that the dreadful experiences in the camp in Indonesia during World War II had prepared him to patiently care for his wife for so many years as she fell ill and deteriorated from this horrible disease and also for the fateful day he had to entrust her primary care to others and could not be by her side anymore. Their motto has been and still is to “Just carry on,” having a perfect hope in Christ to be raised up at the last day and to dwell with Him in glory forever.

It was just a few days before Christmas, and we were newlyweds traveling home for the holidays. It was a 42-hour drive by car, but that didn’t discourage us at all because we were so excited to be home with our families again! We had been on the road all day and most of the night when we came upon a terrible snowstorm. We found ourselves in a blinding blizzard, and the snow was growing deeper on the highway with each passing moment. The night was pure black. We couldn’t see where we were going, and because of the deep snow we couldn’t see the lines on the road. This was a frightening situation!
Suddenly in front of us we began to see a huge semitruck going slowly and steadily ahead. We could barely make out his taillights, but seeing them gave us hope. My husband, who was driving, fixed his eyes on the lights from the truck, and we drove along in the tracks it made through the deepening snow. Our panic subsided somewhat with that guide up ahead, because he knew the route, he sat up higher than we and could have a better view, and surely he had communication equipment if it was needed.
With prayers on our lips and white-knuckled hands holding on, we followed that light through the storm. We passed many cars off both sides of the road before we sensed that the truck was slowing down and pulling off the highway. In an act of faith, we followed him and soon found ourselves, to our great relief, in a place of safety, a place of refuge. We were so very thankful! We could hardly wait to tell the driver of the truck how grateful we were for his help—for leading the way.

As a young BYU student I learned a little something about staying on course when heading home. One Christmas Eve my brother and I left to drive home to Kansas. But early in our journey we learned that a huge snowstorm was heading our way, so we pulled out a map, identified a detour that would skirt the edge of the storm, and headed into parts unknown. Our creative navigating proved dangerous. Our new route was unfamiliar, and we still ran right into the blizzard. To make matters worse, late that night as we were creeping along in blinding snow on an obscure highway, our old Ford quit. We were stranded. And we had absolutely no idea where we were.

Eventually we caught a ride to the nearest town, where we found that we were still hours from home and marooned in Last Chance, Colorado. At that point there was only one thing to do. We called home for help. In the middle of the night our father left to come and rescue us. By the next afternoon we were all safely home.

I’ll never forget Christmas Eve in Last Chance, where we were immobilized by a problem largely of our own making and one we were unequipped to solve. That day our father did for us what we could not do for ourselves. Now, each one of us is on the path towards our eternal home. And for various reasons we all need rescue—rescue from loneliness and heartache, from despair and disillusionment, from the consequences of innocent mistakes and blatant sin.

“We won’t have any openings for months, and if you work here, you would have to work on Sundays.” The manager of the first store to which I applied for a job sent me on my way.
It was the summer before my senior year in high school, and I had been driving all over town filling out applications. My plan was to save up enough money to be able to attend college when I graduated. On each application, I indicated I could not work on Sundays. I was firm in my commitment to keep the Sabbath day holy.
A few days later, I handed a completed application to the manager of another store. He quickly scanned the paper and in disbelief asked, “You can’t work on Sundays?”
Without hesitation, I answered, “No.”
He laughed derisively and replied, “You’ll never get a job in this town!”
Feeling deflated, I left the store and climbed into my car. I said a quick prayer out loud, “Heavenly Father, what am I going to do?”
The unmistakable feeling from the Spirit came, and I knew everything would be all right. The prompting was so strong that I responded out loud, “OK.”
About one week later, I received a telephone call. It was the manager from the first store. He said that some of their young cashiers had been stealing money from the registers and that he had fired them. He asked me if I would like to come work for him, adding that I would only have to work on Sundays if there was an emergency. I worked at that store for about one year and only worked one Sunday.
When I began my job search, I decided I would simply have to find a position that did not require Sunday work. I know now that the Lord had a hand in helping me find that job. I have a sure testimony, just as Nephi, that “the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them” (1 Nephi 3:7).