Gospel Story Finder

When my class was studying architecture this year in school, each student was assigned to prepare both a report and a three-dimensional model of a famous building or other structure. Since my parents were married in the Salt Lake Temple, it is very special to my family. My dad had the great idea of using sugar cubes to make my model of it. We thought that sugar cubes were perfect because their white color symbolized the purity of the temple. I realized that the shape of the cubes was also appropriate because the Salt Lake Temple was built using huge granite boulders that were cut by hand into blocks.
My five-year-old brother, Rollins, decided to make a temple, too. We thought his turned out to look a lot like the Manti Utah Temple.
Presenting the report let me tell my class a little about the Church and the importance of temples. My model was even put on display in the school media center for a few weeks! Everyone who saw it could read the label we made for it: The Salt Lake Temple of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
I look forward to my next chance to tell others about the Church.
Niles Wimber, age 8McDonough, Georgia

Recently, while traveling for a weekend assignment, I realized my carry-on bag wouldn’t fit in the overhead space. I needed that bag. It contained important, essential material. Almost before I had a chance to react, an attendant took my bag, wrapped a tag around its handle, handed me a luggage claim ticket, and whisked my precious possession away.
Throughout that flight, I had an anxious feeling. I hoped someone was taking care of the bag and its contents. I hoped it would not be forgotten, neglected, or lost. I clutched my claim ticket, hoping for a successful reunion.
My story had a happy ending; my bag and I were reunited. But the experience got me thinking.

Imagine the Prophet Joseph Smith’s reactions to some of his assignments. Can you imagine as a college-aged student being told by an angel from God that you will translate an ancient history from gold plates? Certainly Joseph has feelings of being unprepared and inadequate for such an undertaking. But just as certainly, the angel and our Heavenly Father know that Joseph can do the assignment with hard work and with help—help from heaven and help from people.

Joseph works so hard at fulfilling this assignment. For a while, Joseph, with the help of the Urim and Thummin, does the translating on his own, but he just isn’t making much progress. Emma begins to help as a scribe, but her daily activities prevent her from helping as much as she wants. The Lord tells Joseph that He will send another scribe if Joseph is patient. In the meantime, the Lord prepares and directs Oliver Cowdery to assist Joseph. Imagine the sense of gratitude Joseph feels when Oliver arrives and offers help with this daunting assignment.

Day after day, the two work on the translation. One day Joseph receives inspiration through the Urim and Thummin to send a letter to David Whitmer asking for David to take Joseph and Oliver from Harmony, Pennsylvania, back to David’s home to finish the translation in Fayette, New York, near Palmyra. David receives the letter, not knowing what to do because he is in the middle of a big job that needs to be finished before he can leave. David also has a difficult assignment he must complete. He needs two days of heavy work to finish harrowing and planting the rest of his wheat and then at least another day to spread the much-needed plaster of paris on his land. David has at least three days of work ahead of him before he can help Joseph. However, David feels he should leave sooner—a difficult assignment.

The next morning, David goes to the fields to begin his pressing assignment. At noon, when he stops for lunch, he discovers to his surprise that he is half finished with the work, and by evening he has finished the job that would normally take him two days to accomplish. The next morning when he goes to the plaster of paris heap to spread it on another field, the pile is gone. He asks his sister what has happened to the plaster, and she explains that the day before she and her children hade watched three men spread plaster in the fields faster than they have ever seen it done before. She assumes David has hired the men. Of course, he has not. David goes door-to-door trying to determine who has helped him, but no one knows. David begins to recognize that he has been receiving heavenly help with his duties at home so he can carry on his assignment to help Joseph.

David leaves immediately to help Joseph. After three days of making good time traveling, David meets Joseph and Oliver on the road outside Harmony. David is surprised to meet them, but Oliver explains that Joseph has known the exact time David left Fayette and even where David has stopped for lunch and watered his horses.

They return to Harmony for Joseph to say goodbye to Emma who will be following later. Joseph prays for guidance about what do to with the gold plates; he receives the answer that he should give them to an angel who will return them to Joseph when he arrives at the Whitmer farm. Joseph gives the plates to an angel before they leave for New York. On the way they see an aged man walking along the road with a knapsack that seems heavy on his back. Joseph tells David to stop and offer the man a ride in the wagon. The old man politely refuses and tells them that he is just going over to Cumorah. David turns to Joseph confused because he knows the area well and has never heard of Cumorah. Joseph explains that the man is a Nephite and in his knapsack are the gold plates. When David turns to look at the man, he is gone.

When they arrive at the Whitmer farm, the angel returns the plates, and Joseph and Oliver are able to finish the translation.[1] Both David and Joseph have received help from others and help from heaven in fulfilling their individual assignments.

Last night our home teachers came for a visit. They shook hands with all my family, even me.
After everyone sat down, Brother Sorensen blew up a red balloon and handed it to me.
He counted, “One, two, three,” and said, “let go!” The air rushed out of the balloon, and it flipped and flopped all over the room.
I laughed when it landed on my brother’s head.
“Some of us are like the red balloon,” Brother Sorensen said. “We get excited about something and just flip and flop around, not knowing where we will end up.”
Then he handed one end of a piece of string to my sister. He pulled the string tight and threaded his end through a straw.
Next he told Brother Brown to blow up his blue balloon. Then Brother Sorensen carefully put a piece of tape over the straw and fastened it to the balloon.
Brother Brown let go of the blue balloon. Swoosh! It went straight down the string to my sister’s hand.
“When we prepare and know where we want to go, we can be like the blue balloon and go straight to our goal,” Brother Sorensen said. Then he asked, “Do you have any goals?”
My brother said, “I want to go on a mission.” My sister said, “I want to earn my Gospel in Action award.” And I said, “I want to be baptized when I’m eight years old.” We all said that we would rather be like the blue balloon and prepare for our goals now.

I have a friend that I met in the seventh grade. His name is George Suvall. He has been a very successful basketball coach and trainer. He is also a homespun philosopher. Periodically I see him out walking near where we live. We stop to chat. George reported his family had come from Greece when he was very young. At first, because they didn’t speak English in the home, George did not know how to read or write English very well. He was able to keep most of it a secret. An insightful teacher, because she cared and noticed that he was always trying to do his best, rescued him. One day his father was attempting to explain the importance of doing the best you can to George and said, “Hey, George, if you gonna be anything, you be the best anything you can be.” His father knew that in America if you do the best you can, you will succeed.
Then his father said, “Georgie, there are two-a-things you cannot-a buy. It’s a your-a-name and your-a-health. Take-a-care of them both.” Those few words provided a personal philosophy George still follows.

First: Do the best you can.
Second: Protect your name.
Third: Guard your health.

"Oh no! How could I call her? I wondered. Sure, she’d been in my classes at church since Star Bs, but I didn’t know her very well. She was popular at school and seemed to have everything going for her. I didn’t dare call her.
Sometimes I feel really inadequate around people. They often seem so much better than I am, and I have a hard time talking to them. When I was asked to be the group leader for our tent at girls’ camp and was assigned to call all our girls and let them know what we were supposed to do, I had no problem calling the girls who were my close friends. But there was one I just didn’t have the nerve to call.
Finally I did it. While talking to her, I stumbled over my words and nothing seemed to make sense. This is so dumb of me, I thought. Why am I such a nervous wreck? After I finished talking, I hung up, embarrassed. “I don’t even want to go to camp,” I said to myself.
The first day of camp I found a quiet spot and opened my scriptures. I came across Doctrine and Covenants 60:2 [D&C 60:2], which read, “But with some I am not well pleased, for they will not open their mouths, but they hide the talent which I have given unto them, because of the fear of man.”
That’s it! I thought. Heavenly Father doesn’t want us to feel intimidated by other people. He loves each the same, and we are all his children. From then on I decided to be friendly and see what would happen.
As camp went on, we played games together and worked together. At night we sat in our tents talking and laughing together. It turned out to be one of the best years at camp I ever had.
The last night the girl I’d worried about bore her testimony and said that at first she hadn’t wanted to come to camp either because she felt that she wouldn’t have any friends to hang around with, but now she was glad she’d come. She’d made new friends. So had I. And we both learned so much."

One day at work, I felt heartbroken and alone. I believed I had failed my ancestors because of the many mistakes I had made. I pleaded with my Heavenly Father for strength.
A week or two later, a sister came up to me after church and asked if I was Jenny Casama. She introduced herself to me as Michelle (Mich) Bautista, one of our temple and family history consultants in the ward. She explained that she had a dream in which three women dressed in white and surnamed Casama had come to her for help. They pleaded with Sister Bautista, “Please help her.”
Sister Mich understood that these women were asking her to help their relative—me—to learn more about temple and family history work.
Sister Mich said to me, “Let’s see if we can find those women in your family tree.”
On the FamilySearch website, we discovered records for my grandmother Damasa Casama; her sister Emiliana Casama; and my great-grandmother Eugenia Casama. Without any doubt, we knew they were the women in the dream. A sweet feeling of peace passed over me, and I felt my ancestors’ love overflowing at that very moment. We wept because of the happiness we felt in our hearts. I felt that they cared much about me, and in return, I had a deep feeling of love for them.
I then realized my responsibility to help them and my other ancestors to receive the ordinances of the temple. Our ancestors have been waiting—some for a long time—for us on the earth to perform these sacred ordinances for them.
Later that year, I was baptized in the temple for these three ancestors. I testify of the beauty of family history work and of the power it brings into my life.

Several years ago I went on a backpacking trip in the Teton Mountains of Wyoming with a group of young women. It was a difficult hike, and on the second day we arrived at the most dangerous part of the hike.
We were going to hike along Hurricane Pass—aptly named because of the strong winds that almost always blow there. We were instructed by a ranger to stay in the center of the path, stay as low as possible on the exposed part of the trail, secure everything in our packs, and move quickly. This was no spot for photographs or for lingering. I was relieved once each of the young women had navigated the spot successfully. And do you know—not one of them asked how close to the edge she could get!
Sometimes as we walk life’s paths, we want to loiter in dangerous places, thinking that it is fun and thrilling and that we are in control. Sometimes we think we can live on the edge and still maintain our virtue. But that is a risky place to be. As the Prophet Joseph Smith told us, “Happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path that leads to it; and this path is virtue” (History of the Church, 5:134).
In the Doctrine and Covenants the Lord gives counsel to one of His precious daughters—Emma Smith—to be faithful and to “walk the paths of virtue before me” (D&C 25:2). The Lord’s advice to Emma Smith is also His advice to all His precious daughters. What are those paths, and what is virtue?
Virtue is a pattern of thought and behavior based on high moral standards. It encompasses chastity and moral purity. Virtue includes modesty—in thought, language, dress, and demeanor. Virtue provides an anchor on the path leading to our Heavenly Father’s presence. The paths of virtue lead to happiness in this life and in the life to come. The paths of virtue lead to strong families. The paths of virtue contain the foundation stones for the blessings of eternity. They lead to the temple. No wonder the Prophet Joseph Smith said, “If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things” (Articles of Faith 1:13).
In another revelation the Lord promises each of us that if we let virtue garnish our thoughts unceasingly, we will have confidence. He promises that our “confidence [will] wax strong” and the Holy Ghost will be our constant companion (see D&C 121:45–46). Living Church standards helps each of us stay on the paths of virtue. Whenever we are worthy of the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost, we can have the confidence that the daily decisions we make will be correct even when they are difficult.
All over the world young women are living lives of virtue and purity. It shows in your eyes and radiates in the light that shines forth from your countenances. But in a world that surrounds us with sights and sounds, music and messages that are less than virtuous, it can be difficult to hold onto virtue. What about those who have made mistakes along the way?
President Monson has said: “If any of you has slipped along the way, there are those who will help you to once again become clean and worthy. Your bishop or branch president is anxious and willing to help and will, with understanding and compassion, do all within his power to assist you in the repentance process that you may once again stand in righteousness before the Lord” (“Examples of Righteousness,” Liahona, May 2008, 65).
Never has there been a time in the history of the world when virtue is more needed. The blessings and promises of being virtuous will help you be free and happy and worthy to enter the Lord’s holy temples. For this reason we have added “virtue” to the Young Women values and theme. Each week when you repeat the theme, I hope you will be reminded of what it means to cherish virtue.

Jamie stood outside looking around. No one was playing. She could hear the tap, tap, tapping of Uncle Ed’s hammer. Maybe I’ll go over and see what he’s doing, she thought.
Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth lived across the street. They weren’t really her aunt and uncle, just very special people who loved the neighborhood kids. They didn’t have any children of their own, so all the kids called them Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth.
Jamie knocked on Uncle Ed’s workshop door.
“Come in,” he hollered. “Hi, Jamie. Have you come over to help me?”
“What are you making?” she asked.
“Oh, I made a birdhouse. I’m just about ready to paint it, and I sure could use a helper.”
“I’d love to help,” said Jamie. They painted the birdhouse red and green.
“We did a good job,” said Uncle Ed. “Now we need a reward. Let’s go in and see if Aunt Ruth has some spare cookies.”
Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth’s house was a wonderful place. Jamie’s favorite thing in it was the curio cabinet in the living room. Sitting on the shelves were dolls that Aunt Ruth had collected since she was a little girl. They were all beautiful and different. On the top shelf was her most prized possession, a doll dressed in a white sailor suit. He had a china head, and his face was hand painted. With a friendly smile, he seemed to watch you wherever you were in the room. His name was Buddy, and Aunt Ruth’s own aunt had given him to her when she was eight years old. He was the beginning of her collection. All the dolls were special to her, but the most special was Buddy.
“Come in and have a cookie. I just took them out of the oven,” Aunt Ruth said.
“Jamie and I finished the birdhouse. Where do you want us to hang it?” Uncle Ed asked.
“Well, let me see. How about the elm tree?”
“Sounds good to me. Jamie and I will hang it up as soon as the paint has had time to dry. OK, Jamie?”
“Yes,” Jamie answered, crunching her cookie. “Sounds good to me too. Guess what? My birthday is on Thursday, and I’m getting baptized in my church on Saturday. Will you come to the baptism? My grandparents can’t come, and I’d love you to be there. Please?”
“We’d love to, Jamie,” Uncle Ed said. “We don’t go to church much. We really don’t belong to any church. Do you think it will be all right?”
“Of course,” Jamie responded. “It’s my special day. Mom said I could invite anyone I wanted, and I want you.”
Aunt Ruth smiled. “We’re honored, and we’ll be there. I’ll talk to your mother.”
Later, Jamie and Uncle Ed hung the birdhouse high in the elm tree.
The morning of Jamie’s birthday the sun shone brightly. Jamie hurried and dressed and ran downstairs. Everyone was waiting for her. Mom and Dad, her brothers—Mike and Tommy—and her sister, Christine.
“Happy birthday!” they yelled.
When she opened her presents, there were some clothes, a necklace from Christine, and a game from the boys. Grandma and Grandpa Ellis had sent her a set of scriptures with her name on the front in gold. Inside, Grandma had written a note:
Dear Jamie,
We are sorry that we can’t be with you on your special birthday. We are very proud of you and know that you will be a wonderful member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Remember, the scriptures will be one of your most prized possessions. Read them often.
We love you,
Grandma and Grandpa
Jamie smiled when she read the note. That afternoon after school, Jamie put away her presents and thought about Saturday. It was going to be even more exciting than today. Her aunt and uncle and cousins would be there. Bishop Davis and her Primary teacher, Sister Naylor, would be there, too, with her CTR A class. And, of course, Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth were coming.
Jamie went downstairs where Christine was setting the table for her birthday dinner. The doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Mike hollered.
It was Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth. “We won’t stay long. We know it’s your dinnertime. We have a present for Jamie.” Aunt Ruth handed Jamie a large white box tied with a big pink bow.
“Ruthie’s been more excited about this than Jamie will be, I think,” Uncle Ed said.
Jamie untied the ribbon and carefully lifted off the lid.
“Hurry up!” Tommy squealed.
“I’m hurrying as fast as I can!” Jamie carefully took out several pieces of tissue paper. Nestled in the middle of the layers of tissue paper was Buddy, Aunt Ruth’s prized doll. “Oh, Aunt Ruth,” cried Jamie, “thank you, thank you!”
“You’re welcome, Jamie. I got Buddy when I was eight years old, and since there are no little girls in my family, I want you to have him. He’s my most prized possession—next to Uncle Ed,” Aunt Ruth said with a chuckle.
“Aunt Ruth, I promise I’ll take good care of him. Oh, this is the best birthday ever!”
Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth were invited to stay for dinner and for birthday cake, which made Jamie very happy. When they went home, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. She put Buddy on the shelf above her dresser, right next to her scriptures. My two prized possessions, she thought. As she lay in bed, the moonlight shone brightly through the window. She could see Buddy smiling at her. Then she noticed the light on her scriptures. The best idea popped into her head! She fell asleep wondering why she hadn’t thought of it before.
The next morning Jamie was up and dressed early. She ran downstairs with something in her hand. “I have to see Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth,” she told Mom. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Aunt Ruth was surprised to see Jamie so early in the morning.
“Aunt Ruth, last night you gave me one of your most prized possessions,” Jamie said. “This is one of mine.” Jamie handed Aunt Ruth the copy of the Book of Mormon she had received from Primary. “Please read it and then talk to my mom and dad about it. They can tell you how you can keep another one of your prized possessions—Uncle Ed—forever.” Jamie hurried down the walk, calling back, “See you at my baptism.”
Saturday afternoon Jamie and her parents waited anxiously at the church until they saw Uncle Ed and Aunt Ruth come through the door.
“Hello, Jamie,” they said, giving her a hug. “We read your book all day yesterday and most of the night, and we’d like to talk to you and your folks about it soon.”
“We’d be very happy to talk to you about it,” Jamie’s dad said as he welcomed them.
“Your little Jamie’s quite a missionary,” said Uncle Ed.
After the baptism, Dad confirmed Jamie a member of the Church and gave her the gift of the Holy Ghost. A warm feeling came over her, and she knew that she had just received the most prized possession of all.

Our living prophet, President Harold B. Lee, made a significant statement on this subject and clearly illustrated the correct philosophy of a servant of the Lord. He did so shortly after he was ordained to the office.
The new First Presidency held a news conference in the administration building with many members of the press in attendance. One reporter asked President Lee if he would mind explaining what his goals were. He asked:
“What do you expect to accomplish during your administration as president of the Church?”
President Lee answered in his most characteristic way, substantially as follows:
“Well,” he said, “I can only answer that question in the words of a great prophet when he was given an assignment by the Lord to secure an ancient record. He said:
“‘And I was led by the Spirit, not knowing beforehand the things which I should do.’” (1 Ne. 4:6.)
Being led by the Spirit is vitally important because this is the Lord’s church and he runs it. Those who are called to serve must let the Lord run his church. They must be led by his Spirit because man’s thoughts are not God’s thoughts and man’s ways are not God’s ways; therefore, for man to do God’s work he must have the Spirit of the Lord or he won’t know what to do or how to perform.
To continue with the revelation, now that the Lord has established the necessity for the Spirit, he proceeds to explain how to get the Spirit. The formula is apparently so simple:
“And the Spirit shall be given unto you by the prayer of faith; and if ye receive not the Spirit ye shall not teach.” (D&C 42:14.)
On the surface it appears that all that is necessary to receive the Spirit is to ask for it, but it is not quite so easy a question! What is the difference between just ordinary prayer and a “prayer of faith”?
As we consider that question, the difference is immediately apparent. The difference is faith, and what is faith? Of course, there are many definitions of faith, but one definition is “a strong belief plus action.” It is not perfect knowledge (as Alma explains in Alma 32), but real faith lets a man act as if he knows it is true when he really doesn’t.
Therefore, faith in a real sense is power—power to act and perform without actual knowledge. The Lord’s formula for receiving the Spirit, then, is to get on our knees and communicate with him. Tell him what we are going to do—make commitments with him—outline our program—and then get up off our knees and go and do precisely what we have told him we would do. In the doing, the Spirit comes.
From the record, it is obvious that most home teachers do not really enjoy home teaching. I have been a home teacher for 21 years. I don’t think I have missed a half dozen visits over the whole period. I cannot say that I love to home teach until I get to the first home, and then I do love it because I then get the spirit of a home teacher because I am acting like a home teacher—doing what a home teacher does.
In order for a bishop to get the spirit of a bishop, he must first be called, ordained, and set apart, and that is in accord with the revelation we have just read. Does that give him the spirit of a bishop? Wouldn’t it be grand if it did? But of course it doesn’t. In order to get the spirit of a bishop, he must get on his knees and communicate with the Lord and then get up off his knees and go and do precisely what he has told the Lord he would do. Then he gets the spirit of a bishop as he acts like a bishop, and he is able to act for the Lord and do what the Lord would do if the Lord was the bishop.
Suppose he gets up off his knees after telling the Lord he is going to conduct a priesthood executive committee meeting, and instead of conducting the committee meeting he goes fishing. Do you suppose he will get the spirit of a bishop? No, probably not, but rather he will likely get the spirit of a fisherman instead. And while the spirit of a fisherman is not altogether bad, it is not the spirit that he needs to conduct a priesthood executive committee meeting. If a man never acts like a bishop, even though he is called, ordained, and set apart so to be, he will never get the spirit of a bishop.
If a missionary never acts like a missionary, even though he is called and set apart so to be, he will never get the spirit of a missionary and thus will never really be a missionary, because without the Spirit he shall not teach, and a missionary that cannot teach is not a missionary. Likewise, a stake president who cannot teach is not a stake president. A home teacher who cannot teach is not a home teacher. An MIA president who cannot teach is not an MIA president.
Is it any wonder that the Lord commands:
“Wherefore, now let every man learn his duty, and to act in the office in which he is appointed, in all diligence.” (D&C 107:99.) Surely in the action, the Spirit comes as the Lord has promised.
There is one additional qualification that must be acquired in order to have success in the Lord’s work. We must love the people we are called to serve. Without this, all else is vain, because they will not accept our offering to them unless they know we love them.
In “The Vision of Sir Launfal,” an interesting story is told of a young knight who rode out into the world in search of the Holy Grail (the cup which the Master supposedly drank from at the Last Supper). He had dedicated his life to the quest. He was young, handsome, and strong, clothed in bright and shining armor, mounted on a gallant white charger. As he crossed the drawbridge riding out into the world, a beggar (who was a leper) put up his hand to him, begging alms. The young knight reached into his pouch, took out a gold coin and flung it to the beggar as he rode on, but he really did not give the beggar very much because no one would accept even a gold coin from a leper.
The young man searched for the cup; of course he didn’t find it, although he spent his life in the quest. He did, however, learn a lot, and at the close of his life he was returning to his castle, no longer young. He is now shrunken with age. His armor is no longer bright; his mount is no longer a charger but just a tired old gray horse. As he was about to cross the drawbridge into the castle, once again a beggar put up his hand begging for alms. This time Sir Launfal stopped, got down from his horse, reached into his knapsack and took out the only thing he had—a crust of bread. He then dipped his cup into the stream and gave the crust of bread and one cup of cold water to the beggar.
The wooden cup from which the beggar drank turned into the Holy Grail for which he had searched, and the beggar turned into a Christ and said a very interesting thing. He said:
“Not what we give, but what we share.
For the gift without the giver is bare;
Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,
Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.”
(“The Vision of Sir Launfal,” James R. Lowell.)
I long ago learned what all real missionaries must learn: “People do not really care how much you know until they know how much you care.” If you love them, they will listen to you; they will let you serve them.
Because the Lord Jesus Christ loved us, he died for us, and we accept his sacrifice in our behalf as the only way back to our Heavenly Father. May we be qualified to bear his name and may we have his spirit as we act in the office in which we are appointed in all diligence, but with love. I pray in the name of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer. Amen.

I grew up in the village of Fitiuta, Manu’a in American Samoa. Fitiuta is one of the 3 villages on the island of Ta’u, Manu’a. It is 70 miles east of the main island of Tutuila, American Samoa. In the 1960s, I lived in the village of Fitiuta with my family until I was 12 years old when we moved here to Hawaii. The only form of transportation between the main island of Tutuila and the Manu’a islands is a small steam ship that travels there once a week. There is no wharf so the ship would dock out in the blue ocean and the villagers would row a longboat out to meet the ship and pick up the supplies and the passengers. It is very dangerous and wet especially when the tide is high. I remembered one of those trips our family were told to wait for two missionaries that will be coming from Tutuila to Fitiuta. So, our family went to the shore to wait for the ship to arrive. I was watching from the shore as the men of the village rowed the longboat out to meet the ship, and for some reason my Dad wasn’t on the longboat. I saw two missionaries with white shirts standing on the edge of the ship getting ready to jump on to the longboat but they were stopped by some of the men indicating that they are not to board the longboat.

However, the men reached out for the missionaries’ suitcases. When they got the suitcases from the missionaries, they threw them in the blue ocean and I can see the suitcases floating away. My father saw what was happening to our palagi (Caucasian) missionaries so he waited until the longboat returned to shore. When they returned my Dad jumped in the longboat and told the men of the village that the two missionaries are ministers of his church and they are supposed to respect and honor them just like how they respect the minister of their LMS church. So, the men and along with my Dad went back to the ship and picked up our two missionaries. I’m not sure about their suitcases though. They were shocked and probably wished that they could go back to Tutuila on the steam ship right then and there but they stayed. It was this experience that was the beginning of the missionaries’ journey of finding their voice in the village of Fitiuta and find ways to continue to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Sarah said that her Church background has helped her grow in many ways. “When I was little, I was bashful and afraid to do anything. But as I grew up, I was given speaking assignments and committee responsibilities, and it forced me to learn to be more outgoing. Now I’ve got a little more pluck. I’m not afraid to speak in public.” Saturday morning before meeting the rest of the group at the temple, she had given a speech to the entire student body of her high school.

There is sometimes the danger that the true purpose of an endeavor can be lost in the compulsion to make the records look good. As an example of this, I cite an incident recently related to me by a young wife who had just gone through the trauma of losing a baby through premature birth. Throughout the month of semiconfinement that preceded this misfortune, members of the Relief Society in this sister’s ward made frequent calls on her to comfort her, to bring meals for the family, and to be of general assistance. Their caring concern and attention had been much appreciated.

Following her release from the hospital, this sister deeply felt the need to spend some private time with her scriptures and in prayerful quest for understanding. She reported that on a day close to the end of the month she was at home alone, particularly impressed and inspired by some part of the scriptures she had been reading. A sweet spirit of peace and consolation rested upon her, and she felt a closeness to the Lord and the reality of his love in a way she had never before experienced.

She was absorbed in this experience when the telephone rang. She reluctantly answered, only to find that it was one of the Relief Society sisters who had been in her home several times earlier in the month. On this occasion the call was to solicit a time during the day when an official visit could be made to present the visiting teaching lesson for the month. When the sister who related this incident to me asked to forego the lesson in view of the fact that the visiting teachers had already been in her home several times during the month, and more especially because she did not wish to have her restoring interlude with the scriptures interrupted, she was reminded that this was the last day of the month. On the earlier visits the official lesson for the month had not been presented. Therefore, the visits could not be counted.

Reluctantly, the ailing sister left her scriptures and cleaned her house in preparation for her visiting teachers. The spirit of the morning was lost and was replaced by a feeling of resentment and hurt. The visiting teachers’ perfect record remained intact—but at what cost?

The day after Mother’s Day, eight-year-old Eric and his mom went to the local pharmacy to buy some medicine. Eric walked around the pharmacy while his mother purchased the medication. When they got back in the car, Eric asked if he could talk to his mom for a minute.
“Sure,” Mom said, reaching to turn the car’s key.
Eric grabbed her hand and said, “Don’t go. Can we talk right here?” Mom shifted in her seat to listen.
Eric told her about a boy in his school class named Josh.* Josh’s mother had died of cancer during the previous Christmas holidays. Ever since then, Josh was often very sad at school. Sometimes his dad even had to come and take him home from school because he couldn’t stop crying.
Mother’s Day had been very hard for Josh. He had brought a stuffed bear to school the next day and had hugged it for comfort all the time. During recess, he had taken the bear to the playground. Some of the bigger kids took Josh’s bear away from him. They teased him by throwing it back and forth, and the bear ripped apart. Eric felt bad because he knew Josh’s family might not be able to buy him another bear. While in the pharmacy, Eric had seen a bear just like Josh’s. He wanted to spend his money to buy it for Josh.
Eric and his mom went back into the pharmacy and bought the bear. Eric took it to school in his backpack the next day. Mom told Eric not to give the bear to Josh until she had made sure it was OK with their teacher. The teacher told Eric’s mother she would be glad to arrange for Eric to give the bear to Josh.
That evening, Mom asked Eric how it went. He said their teacher had asked the two of them to stay in for a few minutes while the rest of the class went to recess. She asked Josh what had happened to his bear the day before. Josh’s first words were “Eric didn’t do it.”
She said that wasn’t the reason she’d had them stay in and then explained that Eric wanted to give him another bear. The bear went from backpack to backpack for safekeeping. Eric said Josh almost cried when he gave it to him. Eric said the best feeling of all was to see Josh smile. As Josh left for the day, he gave Eric a big high-five.

Recently, I visited the mother of a large family, whom I have known and admired for many years. I have watched her children grow and develop. Education, missions, temple marriages were all part of their program. I asked her what was the secret of her success. Modestly, she told me that success had not yet been achieved, that life was a continual series of tests and challenges. But she did indicate that keeping close family ties had been very important in their lives.

She said, “We have recognized that each family member needs to be treated with dignity and respect. Though the capabilities and talents of each are different, each needs to know he or she is a child of God, loved by Him. We hold regular family conferences (even after the children are married). We feel since the Church has general conference for the edification and instruction of the saints, we need to have family conferences for the same purpose. The have truly strengthened the love in our family.”

One who fulfilled in his life this admonition of the Savior was a missionary, Thomas Michael Wilson. He is the son of Willie and Julia Wilson, Route 2, Box 12, Lafayette, Alabama. Elder Wilson completed his earthly mission on January 13, 1990. When he was but a teenager, and he and his family were not yet members of the Church, he was stricken with cancer, followed by painful radiation therapy, and then blessed remission. This illness caused his family to realize that not only is life precious but that it can also be short. The family began to look to religion to help them through this time of tribulation. Subsequently they were introduced to the Church and baptized. After accepting the gospel, young Brother Wilson yearned for the opportunity of being a missionary. A mission call came for him to serve in the Utah Salt Lake City Mission. What a privilege to represent the family and the Lord as a missionary!
Elder Wilson’s missionary companions described his faith as like that of a child—unquestioning, undeviating, unyielding. He was an example to all. After eleven months, illness returned. Bone cancer now required the amputation of his arm and shoulder. Yet he persisted in his missionary labors.
Elder Wilson’s courage and consuming desire to remain on his mission so touched his nonmember father that he investigated the teachings of the Church and also became a member.
An anonymous caller brought to my attention Elder Wilson’s plight. She said she didn’t want to leave her name and indicated she’d never before called a General Authority. However, she said, “You don’t often meet someone of the caliber of Elder Wilson.”
I learned that an investigator whom Elder Wilson had taught was baptized at the baptistry on Temple Square but then wanted to be confirmed by Elder Wilson, whom she respected so much. She, with a few others, journeyed to Elder Wilson’s bedside in the hospital. There, with his remaining hand resting upon her head, Elder Wilson confirmed her a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
Elder Wilson continued month after month his precious but painful service as a missionary. Blessings were given; prayers were offered. The spirit of his fellow missionaries soared. Their hearts were full. They lived closer to God.
Elder Wilson’s physical condition deteriorated. The end drew near. He was to return home. He asked to serve but one additional month. What a month this was! Like a child trusting implicitly its parents, Elder Wilson put his trust in God. He whom Thomas Michael Wilson silently trusted opened the windows of heaven and abundantly blessed him. His parents, Willie and Julia Wilson, and his brother Tony came to Salt Lake City to help their son and brother home to Alabama. However, there was yet a prayed-for, a yearned-for, blessing to be bestowed. The family invited me to come with them to the Jordan River Temple, where those sacred ordinances which bind families for eternity, as well as for time, were performed.
I said good-bye to the Wilson family. I can see Elder Wilson yet as he thanked me for being with him and his loved ones. He said, “It doesn’t matter what happens to us in this life as long as we have the gospel of Jesus Christ and live it.” What courage. What confidence. What love. The Wilson family made the long trek home to Lafayette, where Elder Thomas Michael Wilson slipped from here to eternity.
President Kevin K. Meadows, Elder Wilson’s branch president, presided at the funeral services. The words of his subsequent letter to me I share with you today: “On the day of the funeral, I took the family aside and expressed to them, President Monson, the sentiments you sent to me. I reminded them of what Elder Wilson had told you that day in the temple, that it did not matter whether he taught the gospel on this or the other side of the veil, so long as he could teach the gospel. I gave to them the inspiration you provided from the writings of President Joseph F. Smith—that Elder Wilson had completed his earthly mission and that he, as all ‘faithful elders of this dispensation, when they depart from mortal life, continue their labors in the preaching of the gospel of repentance and redemption, through the sacrifice of the Only Begotten Son of God, among those who are in darkness and under the bondage of sin in the great world of the spirits of the dead’ [D&C 138:57]. The spirit bore record that this was the case. Elder Thomas Michael Wilson was buried with his missionary name tag in place.”
When Elder Wilson’s mother and his father visit that rural cemetery and place flowers of remembrance on the grave of their son, I feel certain they will remember the day he was born, the pride they felt, and the genuine joy that was theirs. This tiny child they will remember became the mighty man who later brought to them the opportunity to achieve celestial glory. Perhaps on these pilgrimages, when emotions are close to the surface and tears cannot be restrained, they will again thank God for their missionary son, who never lost the faith of a child, and then ponder deep within their hearts the Master’s words, “And a little child shall lead them” (Isa. 11:6).

When my wife and I arrived in Minnesota as new mission leaders, we had close to 270 missionaries and were focused on the young elders and sisters as well as our many responsibilities.
Early in our mission, one particular transfer presented a challenge for which I was little prepared. We had close to 30 missionaries departing and close to 30 arriving. In addition to interviewing all of the departing and arriving missionaries, I assigned missionaries to new companions in new areas.
As I began the day of interviews, I received a call from one of our elders serving in a small Wisconsin branch in the easternmost part of the mission. With a faltering voice, he shared with me that his entire family had left the Church. “President, what do I do?” he asked.
My heart broke for this devastated young man. I knew my wife and I should get in the car to go spend time with this elder, but if I did, I would miss the final opportunity I had to interview some of the departing missionaries.
As I was trying to determine how to accomplish these two important responsibilities, in walked a brand-new senior missionary couple, Elder and Sister Beck. I was surprised to see them because we were not expecting them until the next day. I immediately recognized their arrival as an answer to my desperate prayers. They had a special spirit about them, and to make matters better, they were going to be serving in Wisconsin.
I am not certain I even gave them the opportunity to sit down. I informed them that, unfortunately, I did not have time to meet with them. I had an urgent assignment for them. I explained the circumstances of this elder and asked them to travel to Wisconsin and spend some time counseling with and comforting the elder.
They immediately got back into their car and made their way to Wisconsin. Later that day, I received a call from Elder and Sister Beck. They asked me if they could take the elder and his companion to the temple in St. Paul. I thought it was a great idea, but I informed them that on that particular day the temple did not have any daytime sessions. They asked if it would be all right for them to go anyway and spend some time on the temple grounds. I encouraged them to go.
To this day, I do not know how the temple president found out about this elder’s challenges, but when the Becks and the elders arrived at the temple, President Smith was there to greet them. He opened the temple and provided this elder with counsel and guidance in the holiest place on earth.
A couple of days later, when Sister Forbes and I traveled to Wisconsin, the elder’s spirits were high, and he was actively engaged in missionary work. I recognized that it was no small blessing that weeks before Elder and Sister Beck arrived in the mission, the Lord had impressed me to assign them to this area in Wisconsin proximate to the elder’s area. Over the next couple of months, they continued to support and help him deal with this challenge. Despite the situation at home, he continued to work hard, took steps to strengthen his testimony, and later became one of our great mission leaders.
We were always interested and concerned about the missionaries’ plans after their missions. We were even more concerned about this particular missionary because of the challenge he faced at home. I was comforted to learn that he had been admitted to Brigham Young University–Idaho. At a BYU–Idaho orientation meeting, he met his future wife. Later they were sealed in the temple.

It was Thursday, and like hundreds of others in the Church, Jim and Alex anxiously waited for the mail to arrive. Their missionary recommendation papers had been turned in several weeks before, and today might be the day their calls would arrive.
Jim was working at the local supermarket, and Alex was working for a home builder. Both had made their mothers promise that if a large white envelope from Church headquarters arrived, they would not open it. Both had trouble concentrating on their work that day. Jim nearly bagged bath soap with the fresh vegetables, and Alex cut a couple of boards too short.
The large white envelopes did arrive. And both young men rushed home from work at the end of the day. With their families around them, they opened the long-awaited calls to serve. The anticipation was replaced by joy and tears of gratitude. Both young men felt the Lord had spoken, and they were ready to respond to His call.
As the initial excitement died down, the next phase of preparation began. Both families made detailed checklists: scheduling the last day of work, buying clothes and luggage, preparing for sacrament meeting, holding a family get-together, and—oh yes—going to the temple. Sadly, however, only one of the families revered the temple experience as the main event in the life of their son, giving it the emphasis it deserves.

by Elder Craig BarrOhio Columbus Mission
Every year there is a big celebration down in Elkins, West Virginia, called the Forest Festival. To take part in the festival missionaries in the past have set up a display about some aspect of the Church. This year we decided to really do a good job.
Our display consisted of a giant painting of the Washington D.C. Temple. In fact, it was 8-by-12 feet and was painted by an artist in the branch in Elkins. To go with the painting, we obtained a tent 20-by-40 feet from the Army Reserve Depot at Charleston, West Virginia. We set up the tent behind the painting and showed movies to festival visitors. We ran Man’s Search for Happiness, Meet the Mormons, and The New Landmark, a film on the Washington D.C. Temple. On each side of the entrance we placed a display board and pamphlets. These were centered on the family, the family home evening program, and temple work. Floodlights were also set up. There was a blue light in front of the painting to enhance the beauty of the temple and white lights on the side to offset the color and light the display boards. The title of our booth was Why Families and Why Temples?
For four days we had from two to four missionaries at the booth. The response that we received was tremendous. We were kept busy day and night. Many people stopped and commented on the painting, and many others asked for pamphlets and wanted to see the movies. Others requested to hear the missionary lessons or signed our guest register and asked us to come and see them after the festival was over.
The last day there was a parade, and the special guest was President Gerald R. Ford. He stopped and waved to us when he saw the painting of the temple.
We closed down the booth that same evening. When we reflected back over those hurried days, we could see what a great success the booth had been. We had received over 40 referrals and many other verbal referrals. We had come in contact with people who requested that the missionaries come to their homes. Now we are busy teaching and are very grateful for the response that we had. We are especially grateful to those who donated time and talents to help make the display a success.

We were all sitting around talking in the lobby of the meetinghouse when a girl walked in carrying a page torn from a magazine.
“Can you believe this?” said the girl, incredulously, holding the magazine ad so her friends could see. “Look at this picture. If anyone believes this, they’re crazy.”
The two nearest her took the page, looked at it briefly, and started snickering. Soon all the girls crowded around. This group of girls, between the ages of 18 and 20, had one thing in common. They were all employed as nannies in the Boston, Massachusetts, area. I had asked them to talk about their reasons for choosing to become nannies and what they had learned about the experience. Now I had to see what they were laughing at.
I looked over their shoulders at a full-page ad. The copy said something about the exciting opportunities awaiting girls who wanted to become nannies. The picture was of a pretty young girl in a frilly dress, seated on a couch with a poodle lying beside her on the cushion. A black baby grand piano was behind her. Seated at the girl’s feet were two perfectly groomed children smiling up at her as she read from a storybook.
“That isn’t how it is,” said Leslie Bentall, a former nanny. “You walk around in sweat pants with your hair pulled back while kids in dirty diapers pull you in all directions. The homes are often not as nice as they are made out to be. You’re asked to do child care, but then you’re made to wash walls and clean windows, do carpools, and baby-sit every night of the week.”