Gospel Story Finder

Tommy had noisy feet. When he came into the house from outside, his feet went clomp, clomp, clomp. Then baby sister woke up, opened her big blue eyes, and started to cry.
“Oh, Tommy,” sighed Mother, “now see what you’ve done. You woke up sister again. Why can’t you walk quietly?”
When Daddy was watching his favorite television program, he grumbled, “Tommy, can’t you walk quietly? I can’t hear a thing!”
When Tommy walked up the steps to the chapel door, his feet went clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp!
Then Mother would say, “Sh-h-h, Tommy. Sh-h-h!”
When he walked down the chapel aisle, Daddy would whisper, “Quietly, Tommy. Quietly.”
Tommy didn’t want to walk clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp.
He didn’t want to wake up his baby sister.
He didn’t want to make it hard for his father to hear his favorite television program.
He didn’t want to make a noise in Heavenly Father’s house.
Tommy didn’t want to disturb people with his clompy feet.
He really wanted to walk quietly. So one day after everyone had been saying, “Sh-h-h, Tommy! Sh-h-h!” Tommy said to himself, “I’m going to try very hard to walk quietly. I’m going to try to keep my feet from going clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp.”
And Tommy did try. He tried hard. He began to listen very carefully to his feet.
When Tommy came in from outside, his feet went clomp on the floor. Then Tommy said to himself, “I must walk quietly. I must not wake up baby sister.” And right then his feet did exactly what he told them to do.
When Tommy went into the chapel, his feet started up the steps with a big clomp. But then Tommy said to himself, “I must walk quietly when I enter Heavenly Father’s house.” And his feet did exactly what he told them to do.
Tommy kept trying to walk quietly. Instead of going clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp, his feet went clomp, clomp. Then they just went clomp. And one day they didn’t go clomp at all.
Tommy’s feet came in from outside so quietly that when Mother saw him standing by her in the kitchen, she said in surprise, “Tommy, I didn’t hear you come in. You must have pussycat feet!”
Daddy was watching his favorite television program that night when Tommy came in and sat down in his own small chair. Suddenly Daddy looked up and said, “Tommy, I didn’t hear you come in. You must have cushions on your shoes!”
One day Tommy’s Sunday School teacher said, “My, some of you children have noisy feet today. Your feet went clompety-clompety, clomp, clomp up the stairs and clomp, clomp, clomp down the hall and clomp into our classroom. We should all walk quietly in our Heavenly Father’s house.
“Tommy, you have very quiet feet. Would you please show the other boys and girls how to walk quietly?”
Tommy smiled a big happy smile, and as softly as a pussycat he showed the boys and girls how to walk quietly.
And after that Tommy never had any more trouble with noisy feet.

Some years ago in the Salt Lake Tabernacle, Elder Marion D. Hanks conducted a panel discussion. Included in that panel was an attractive and able young woman, divorced, the mother of seven children then ranging in ages from 7 to 16. She said that one evening she went across the street to deliver something to a neighbor. Listen to her words, as I recall them:
“As I turned around to walk back home, I could see my house lighted up. I could hear echoes of my children as I had walked out of the door a few minutes earlier. They were saying: ‘Mom, what are we going to have for dinner?’ ‘Can you take me to the library?’ ‘I have to get some poster paper tonight.’ Tired and weary, I looked at that house and saw the light on in each of the rooms. I thought of all of those children who were home waiting for me to come and meet their needs. My burdens felt heavier than I could bear.
“I remember looking through tears toward the sky, and I said, ‘Dear Father, I just can’t do it tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t face it. I can’t go home and take care of all those children alone. Could I just come to You and stay with You for just one night? I’ll come back in the morning.’
“I didn’t really hear the words of reply, but I heard them in my mind. The answer was: ‘No, little one, you can’t come to me now. You would never wish to come back. But I can come to you.’”
There are so very many like this young mother, who found herself in loneliness and desperation but was fortunate enough to have faith in the Lord, who could love her and help her.

HI! My name is Brittany Scott. I want to tell you about Richie Tanner, a special member of our Primary class. What makes Richie special? Well, he’s developmentally delayed, or what some people call mentally handicapped. He looks like most ten-year-old boys, but he acts younger—like maybe a five-year-old. He doesn’t speak very clearly yet, and it takes him longer to learn things.
Richie and I are in the Valiant B class in the Monument Park Ninth Ward, Salt Lake Monument Park Stake. There are five children in our class: Steven Jones, Marcus Foulger, Michael Knudson, Richie, and me. Our teacher is Janet Fawcett. She’s great! She always tells Richie what a good job he’s doing when he listens quietly to the lessons. Sister Fawcett calls on Richie to say prayers and to answer questions. She treats him like everyone else, and she tries to help Richie learn the gospel, just as she helps us.
Richie hasn’t always been able to sit through a lesson. So our Primary has tried different ways to help him. He used to have a special teacher, Sister Neva Clayton, just for him. She would sit with Richie in our class and take him out in the hall if he got noisy or disrupted the class in some other way. But now Richie can sit in class all by himself, just like everyone else!
I’ve seen Richie make good progress: he talks better, he pays attention longer, and he sings in Primary programs. I hope that someday Richie will be able to give a talk by himself.
Richie’s brothers, Michael and Russell, and his sister, Anne, help him come to Primary. He really likes Primary, and he likes to be with all the Primary children because they let him know that he belongs there. Richie adds a lot to our Primary, and he always listens to the other children when they give their talks. He sets a good example for all of us.
Sometimes I wish that I could be more like Richie, because he’s so gentle, friendly, honest, appreciative, and sincere. Richie shows his love in special ways. He’s my friend! I hope that Richie thinks of me as a true friend too. Richie is one of the neatest boys I know!

Recently a young ex-convict joined the Church after years of trouble and searching. His story is best told in his own words. Only the names have been changed. The following is taken from an address he taped while in prison. We publish it with his permission.
Brothers and sisters: I’m honored on this occasion to be able to speak to you about my life and to give some suggestions in regard to the gospel of Jesus Christ. The gospel has truly been restored in our time through Joseph Smith and all the other great souls who have been instruments in the hands of God and his Only Begotten Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
For those of you who don’t know who I am, it might be best for me to start by telling you a little bit about myself. My name is Bill, and I am twenty-one years old. Up until a few years ago, I was very unfortunate spiritually. Indeed, my present situation somewhat reflects this fact. I guess by now you know that I am housed in the prison system of this state.
I was born in a Baltimore suburb to a fine family consisting of my mother, father, two brothers, and two sisters. I was raised in the Roman Catholic Church and even attended a parochial grade school. I started out as a relatively good child and continued so up until around the fourth grade. Yes, as early as the fourth grade I was on my way to a long road of filth of every kind. I started by getting involved with others who had the habit of stealing anything and everything. By age eleven I found it quite amusing to obtain entry into private premises in order to steal and vandalize. Of course, eventually I was caught and brought before a judge. I was fortunate this time not to receive any punishment for my crimes.
Time passed, and soon I was involved in every kind of unlawful act a person my age could get into. Time and time again I was caught and punished accordingly.
Of course, this kind of behavior caused my parents and loved ones much sorrow. Even with all their efforts to help me, I just seemed to get worse. As time passed, I was introduced to many of the radical, subversive factions of our society and the things that went along with them. It seems I went from one extreme to another trying to find a purpose in life. I was, of course, eventually introduced to one of the strongest underminers of all that is good—drugs. I experimented and tried to find myself using all the inventions of man. However, as time passed, I sensed my degenerated position. I soon realized I must pull myself from this hell on earth; so with all the courage I could muster, I managed to get accepted in the United States Army.
Once in the army and away from my old surroundings, I was able to muster some faith in God, of which I always had a little portion. I remember reading in the Bible and pondering the true meaning of the many prophecies. I even tried to get reactivated in the Roman Catholic Church. That, however, soon subsided, and I was on my way seeking and looking. I remember pouring out my soul in prayer much more frequently during this period, but I would always manage to find myself reunited with one of my various vices. Eventually I was transferred to another area. There I found a small group of seekers after the truth who interpreted God in their own way. I remember it was there that I thanked God for my restoration of faith, but I still was not satisfied.
Finally I became discontented and discouraged with the army. I was due to be transferred to Vietnam, so I decided to go absent without leave. Leaving the army behind, I traveled from the west coast to the east. Eventually I ended up back at my home. My parents were disappointed in me, of course, but they sympathized with me and consented to let me stay at home.
Well, before too long I was back in trouble, and I was getting worse. One night I happened to come across a gun. This led to other things, and I soon talked myself into using it for gaining money. Leaving details aside, I did use it and was caught. I was detained in the county jail to await trial. While awaiting my trial, I had occasion to visit a library they had there. There were a number of books dealing with religion that I asked to see. One of these was entitled Religious Truths Defined, by Joseph Fielding Smith, Jr. To this day I don’t know how that book got there. But praise be to God for allowing a sinner like me to even read it.
I commenced reading the book, which compares the doctrine of many contemporary religious establishments to those of the church called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. To me it seemed that even a blind person could see the obvious truths the book professed. After all this I had found the true church. That night I prayed to God, and I told him I believed. I didn’t ask if it were true; I told him I knew it was true.
Brothers and sisters, there are no words I know that can describe the tremendous joy and will to do good continuously that I received from an enormously gigantic outpouring of the Holy Ghost the next morning. I was dazed. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Why God led me to that book and what he has planned for me, I don’t know. But I do know that I have found the true church and the true God. I know that God is real, that Jesus Christ is his Only Begotten. I know the Holy Ghost does exist and that he works on the hearts of men.
Well, I was eventually punished for my wrongs and crimes. I thought that God had let me down at first. However, I stayed in contact with his church continuously and was strengthened more and more. Eventually I quit smoking and drinking, and all my vices and bad habits have almost completely vanished. I have managed to get my high school equivalent and now I’m close to graduation from junior college with a degree in business administration. I have almost two years in seminary work completed and have managed to read the standard works a number of times. I have read many of the other books related to the Church and have followed the Church as closely as possible. To my regret, however, I did receive an undesirable discharge from the army, for which I am really sorry. I surely will try to make it up.
I recently started receiving the missionary discussions and anxiously await the opportunity to be baptized, to receive the gift of the Holy Ghost, and to get my patriarchal blessing. I believe in everything the Church says and does and can’t wait to be active in God’s work.
That is an extra-short version of my life’s story. Indeed, I could probably fill a couple of volumes with the complete version. But all in all, I have no doubts whatsoever concerning God’s church and work. How I look forward to the day I can be in it.
As for advice and suggestions, brothers and sisters, what can I tell you that hasn’t been told you by the prophets and authorities? I will say, Beware of the ways of the world. Be not concerned with societal standards or resulting sub-societies. “Fear God and keep his commandments, for that is the whole duty of man,” the Psalmist said. Please, trust God. Be pure. Don’t go through what I did, or even a minute portion of what I did. There’s no pleasure in it, only grief. So with that I will end my speaking. I give thanks to God above for bringing me this far, and for the change in my heart and the chance to tell someone my story so that maybe they can avoid what I went through. I also give thanks for all the great people I’ve met since my affiliation, for truly you are saints. May the Lord God of Israel be with you always and forever. Amen.

Vaha’i knelt by his bed to say his prayers. It was his first night at boarding school, and he shared a room with lots of other boys. None of them were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, like he was.
Dear Heavenly Father … Vaha’i started to pray in his heart. But it wasn’t easy. The other boys were talking and laughing loudly.
“Hey, look!” one of his roommates, Akau, shouted. “He’s praying!”
Vaha’i shifted uncomfortably. He knew Akau was making fun of him. But he pretended not to hear him. He just kept praying.
Now that Vaha’i was away at school, he was determined to do just that. So he kept praying. Even when the other boys made fun of him.
One night when Vaha’i knelt down, he heard something different.
“Hey, be quiet! Vaha’i is praying,” someone said.
Vaha’i finished his prayer and opened his eyes.
Akau was sitting on his bed. “It’s really important to you, isn’t it?”
Vaha’i nodded. “Yes, it is.”
After that, the other boys were quiet whenever Vaha’i prayed. Soon Akau started kneeling with him. Other boys joined too. Eventually, all the boys in the room knelt to pray with Vaha’i each night.
Vaha’i felt happy. He had never had family prayer at home. But now he could have family prayer with his schoolmates!
One day Vaha’i had an idea. A big Church meeting was coming up. He could invite his friends!
After prayer, Vaha’i told everyone about the meeting. “It’s called district conference,” he said. “People come to learn about Jesus. You can all come, if you want!”
Since they would have to leave the school to go to the meeting, each of the boys had to sign a paper to get permission. Vaha’i was amazed when he saw the paper. There were 77 names on the list!
Vaha’i’s heart felt warm as he sat with rows of his classmates and listened to the talks at the conference. Akau and some of the others must have felt warm inside too. By the end of the conference, seven of them wanted to be baptized!
That night after prayer with his friends, Vaha’i said a prayer of his own. Thank you for blessing me with good friends, he told Heavenly Father. And for helping me be a good example.

On the evening of 4 April, TV Successo in Mozambique aired a show that they had never run before. Instead of the usual lineup of evening television programs, the station aired uplifting musical items and inspiring messages from Church leaders around the globe. For the first time ever, this local TV station aired the Sunday morning session of general conference.
It was close to midnight on the same evening when President Russell M. Nelson addressed members of the Church to end the conference. It was then that he announced that several more temples would be built.
“We want to bring the house of the Lord even closer to our members, that they may have the sacred privilege of attending the temple as often as their circumstances allow,” said the prophet.1
“And then,” says Freeman Dickie, who is currently serving as the Beira Mozambique Stake president, “They announced that we were getting a temple in Beira!”
Despite the late hour, “messages were being sent around on the WhatsApp groups. People were awake and celebrating! First, we were able to watch general conference live on TV for the first time, and then the same night came the temple announcement! You can imagine how exciting it was.”
Sister Emilia Cristina Chaimane Paulino, a member of the Macuti Branch in the Beira Stake, says she felt “overwhelmed with happiness,” when she heard the news. “The moment I heard, I started crying with gratitude for this blessing. I don’t even know how to express what I felt.”
Her husband, Ernesto Paulino, was out of town for work and feeling ill the night the announcement was made. Sister Paulino woke him from a deep slumber by phoning him with the exciting news.
“Truly speaking, I suddenly recovered from my illness!” says Brother Paulino. “When I heard the news, I thought, ‘I’m feeling better now!’
“I felt that amazing grace of the Lord,” he says. “This is a day of celebration for us. It is something very special.”

I’ve moved a lot in my life. A few years ago, we moved to Dubai for a short time. When I unpacked my suitcase, the last thing at the bottom was my scriptures. I thought that I should read them. I did, which is kind of unusual because I’m not always great at following promptings. But I started from the very beginning, and I think I read five or six chapters.

Later, I was asked to give a talk in church. I was impressed to talk about the importance of scripture study. I wrote my talk and thought, “Wow, I should really read the scriptures more.” It also kind of became a competition between me and my dad. He was in Alma, and I wanted to catch up to him. I started reading my scriptures every day—sometimes 10 or 15 chapters!

I started to notice a lot more spiritual experiences. When you’re reading that much, it makes room for you to have personal revelation. I was really creating time for the Lord.

I started keeping a spiritual journal. In one entry, I wrote, “I was reading 3 Nephi about how Jesus Christ came down to the people and all the wonderful things He did. I felt so close to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ today.”

I was really surprised how many experiences I had, especially when I was looking for them. I was like, “Wow, God is really talking to me a lot.”

Studying the scriptures really helped me, especially with all the mental stress of moving so much. The scriptures are Christ’s words. He speaks to us through them. Through His words, I am able to draw closer to Him.

The aspiring college professor had been struggling through years of graduate school, hoping to obtain a doctorate from one of the nation’s leading universities. Preparations had been carefully made for his final oral examinations. He and his wife had fasted and prayed intently for several days, invoking the Spirit of the Lord to attend him in his pending exam and time of proving.

The night before his oral defense, this young man tossed and turned and could not sleep. Then, as he gradually began to relax, he saw in his mind’s eye the questions that would be asked the next morning. He began to mentally prepare the answers for each question as it arose in his mind.

The next morning he arrived at the examination at the appointed hour. To his pleasant surprise, the first question asked by his doctoral examination committee was the first question he had encountered in his thoughts the previous evening. Then, as the examination unfolded, question after question was raised in the same order in which it had occurred the night before. Needless to say, he passed the exams with an impressive performance. He has dedicated his life and profession to serving the Lord.

A few years later, I received a very special phone call at home. It was President Hinckley. He said, “Brother Richards, you are called to the Second Quorum of the Seventy. You are in for a wonderful experience. May the Lord bless you.”
After I hung up the telephone, I realized that President Hinckley had not asked me whether or not I would accept the call to serve. But he had not needed to ask me because I had already decided as a young boy that I would always follow the Lord’s prophet.

Several years ago, a couple who was about to marry came to me. They asked for my advice regarding children. I reminded them of the commandment they would receive when they were sealed, and I counseled them that they could keep this commandment in counsel with the Lord. I reminded them that it is a commandment like tithing, Sabbath observance, or other commandments. Once a covenant is made, the question is not whether to keep it but how to keep it in a way that is pleasing to and approved by the Lord.
I watched as they started their marriage. He had a year left of undergraduate studies, and she had another year in a master’s program. They felt directed to have their family immediately—despite the schooling and uncertainty over future jobs. It was not easy or convenient to have a child so soon. He had to search for a job, they had to move, and she had to finish her degree. They faced stress and sacrifice. He had to rush home each day and watch the baby while she completed her thesis and practical training. She studied and wrote between nursing and changing diapers.
The Lord has blessed and prospered them. While many others lost jobs in the economic turndown of 2008, he was retained and promoted. Because they lived frugally, they are out of debt except for a mortgage, and they have since been able to completely pay for a master’s program with no debt. All the while, they have continued to learn the valuable lessons that can come only with parenthood. Bearing children is neither easy nor convenient, but it is a commandment that helps us realize the real blessings of mortality.

Some years ago I worked in the Missionary Department of the Church. We were developing materials to help missionaries be better and do better. One of the General Authorities shared this experience about repentance:
“A little over a year ago, I had the privilege of interviewing a young man to go on a mission. Because he had committed a major transgression, it was necessary for him under then-existing policy to be interviewed by a General Authority. When the young man came in, I said, ‘Apparently there’s been a major transgression in your life, and that has necessitated this interview. Would you mind telling me what the problem was? What did you do?’
“He laughed and said, ‘Well, there isn’t anything I haven’t done.’ I said, ‘Well, let’s be more specific then. Have you … ?’ And then I began to probe with some very specific questions. The young man laughed again and said, ‘I told you; I’ve done everything.’
“I said, ‘How many times have you … ?’ He said very sarcastically, ‘Do you think I numbered them?’ I said, ‘I wish you could if you can’t.’ He said, again quite sarcastically, ‘Well, I can’t.’
“I said, ‘How about … ?’ And then I probed in another direction. He said, ‘I told you. I’ve done everything.’ I said, ‘Drugs?’ He said, ‘Yes,’ in a very haughty attitude. I said, ‘What makes you think you’re going on a mission then?’ He said, ‘I know I’m going. My patriarchal blessing says I’ll go on a mission, and I’ve repented. I haven’t done any of those things for this past year. I have repented, and I know I’m going on a mission.’
“I said, ‘My dear friend, I’m sorry, but you are not going on a mission. Do you think we could send you out with those clean, wholesome young men who have never violated the code? Do you think we could have you go out and boast and brag about your past? You haven’t repented; you have just stopped doing something.
“‘Sometime in your life you need to visit Gethsemane; and when you have been there, you’ll understand what repentance is. Only after you have suffered in some small degree as the Savior suffered in Gethsemane will you know what repentance is. The Savior has suffered in a way none of us understands for every transgression committed. How dare you laugh and jest and have a haughty attitude about your repentance? I’m sorry; you are not going on a mission.’
“He started to cry, and he cried for several minutes. I didn’t say a word. Finally, he said, ‘I guess that’s the first time I have cried since I was five years old.’ I said, ‘If you had cried like that the first time you were tempted to violate the moral code, you possibly would be going on a mission.’
“He left the office, and I think he felt I was really cruel. I explained to the bishop and the stake president that the boy could not go on a mission.”
About six months later the same General Authority returned to that city to speak in a lecture series held in the evening. When he finished, many young adults lined up to shake hands with him. As he shook hands one by one, he looked up and saw the young man that he had previously interviewed standing in the line about four back. The General Authority related the following:
“My mind quickly flashed back to our interview. I recalled his laughing and haughty attitude. I remembered how sarcastic he was. Pretty soon he was right in front of me. I was on the stand bending over, and as I reached down to shake his hand, I noticed a great change had taken place. He had tears in his eyes. He had almost a holy glow about his countenance. He took my hand in his and said, ‘I’ve been there; I’ve been to Gethsemane and back.’ I said, ‘I know. It shows in your face.’
“We can be forgiven for our transgressions, but we must understand that just to stop doing something is not repentance. If it had not been for the Savior and the miracle of forgiveness, this young man would have carried his transgressions throughout all eternity. We ought to love the Savior and serve Him for this reason and this reason alone” (adapted from Vaughn J. Featherstone, in Conference Report, Stockholm Sweden Area Conference 1974, 71–73).

Susan Noble Grant

Susan Noble Grant left for Zion when she was 15 years old. She loved sitting around the campfire and listening to the adults talk about their experiences with the Prophet Joseph Smith. She and the other teenagers often took turns bearing their own testimonies to keep spirits lifted.

“You do not know how happy we were, even during these severe days of hardest trials. As young as I was, I knew the gospel had been restored. More than once I had heard Joseph Smith declare that our Heavenly Father and His Son Jesus, the resurrected Savior, had come and talked with him. To this day this testimony has never left me.”4

The oldest of four children, I learned as a boy on a small farm near the town of Escalante, Utah, how to work. When I was about two years old, my father was called to serve a mission. When I was three, I helped my mother by carrying in wood and chips for the stove and by helping tend the animals. Later, I drove the cows to pasture in the morning and brought them back in the evening. I also helped harvest a large garden, fruit trees, and grain and alfalfa fields. My father had several thousand sheep, and I helped care for them as they grazed in the mountains or desert.

Extended family and the Church community can augment the support of the father. Kathleen H. Hughes, former counselor in the Relief Society general presidency, spoke about her experience with postpartum depression and the help she received from others:
“After the birth of our son … , I sank into a horrible depression. Many of the women in my family suffer from postpartum depression and, as you may know, in those days medical professionals did very little to help women with this condition. I was left to fight my way out of the darkness.
“But those hard times for me were often tempered and lightened by wonderful sisters in the ward who cared for my children and who cared for me physically, emotionally, and spiritually—helping me through that emotional battle.”4

Daniel Harbuck and Miguel Peña, both 18, interviewed Ferron Forsgren. They were impressed that he could once type 100 words a minute, wore racing goggles when he drove his first car, and had some good advice about impressing young women. Brother Forsgren also told them how he gained his testimony of the Church and how he has been active all his life. They found out that Brother Forsgren still plays tennis at the age of 87. Daniel says, “That’s the kind of guy I want to be when I’m older.”

On the way to my new job, I started to worry.
What if I’m not good enough? I thought as I rode the bus. What if they think I can’t do a good job?
Then I had a clear feeling: Try your best. Even if it doesn’t go well, there’s somebody who loves you.
I thought about my husband. I knew he would love me even if my job didn’t go well. And then I thought about Jesus Christ. I knew that He would always love me. I could feel it in my heart. I said a simple prayer asking Heavenly Father to help me.
When I got to work, I did my best. When I made a mistake, I just kept trying. I remembered that someone still loved me.

I came to an understanding and perhaps a vision of what it means to have the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ as our companion and as our guide as we sojourn here on the earth when I was assigned, prior to my assignment now in the presidency of the First Quorum of the Seventy, to supervise missionary work and the other Church work in the southeastern part of the United States. In that capacity I had the great opportunity to meet with missionaries in zone conferences. While sitting on the stand in a zone conference at one time in the Columbia, South Carolina, Mission I noticed a missionary and his companion come in, walk across the back of the hall, and down the aisle. Then I watched as the senior companion, with great empathy and love, gently arranged for the seating of his junior companion. As I watched, I turned to President Ronald Knighton and inquired, “Is that elder blind?” Upon learning that he was, I made a confession to President Knighton when I said, “I didn’t know that we sent totally blind young men or women on full-time missions.”

I had a great spiritual experience as I met that young man after the meeting. I don’t know whether he recalls or not, but I embraced him and told him how proud I was of him and how sure I was that the Lord was blessing him. This great young man sits on the stand with me at my invitation. He served a glorious mission surrounded by physical darkness, but filled to overflowing with the spirit of the gospel and the light of the Lord. He touched many, many lives. There was no missionary who served in the South Carolina Mission who brought more people into the Church than did this young man. He served as zone leader and finished his mission as the assistant to the president of the mission, despite his blindness.

I put my arm around him as we walked in this morning and asked him, “Do I have your permission to talk about you for a minute or two?” He embarrassedly gave me that permission. I want to read a statement from a letter I received from one of his companions. I took the time to ask all of this young man’s companions what they felt were some of the outstanding things in his life. I quote from one letter:

Elder Crabb always radiates the Spirit of the Lord because of his faithfulness to his testimony of the Lord’s Church. Because of this he keeps the commandments, lives the gospel, and loves his fellowmen. I honestly mean it when I say that I have never associated with one who carries the Spirit of the Lord like he does.

Another companion wrote to me:
To show how one who is blind can help those who have their sight to see spiritually, let me recount an experience. We were working in the poorer section of a town without much success. The last family on the street invited us into their home. It was a run-down house with a wooden porch that had a few boards missing from it, hard wooden floors, a pot-bellied stove for warmth, and two bedrooms where a father and mother and five children slept on homemade cots. In general it was a place I had only read about in such novels as Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. It was a hot, sultry afternoon, and it was time to head back to our apartment for dinner and then go on exchanges with ward members in the evening. I was thinking more about the coming evening’s activities than I was about this family. After all, we had been in dozens of such homes with no apparent success. At the conclusion of the discussion with the family, I was surprised that we were invited back for a visit a few nights later. As my companion and I were walking down the street after we finished our meeting, Elder Crabb indicated how strongly he felt about the family. He said, “Elder Schultz, I think we can baptize that family.” Those words stuck with me until our next meeting with the family when I made sure that I was more spiritually in tune than I had been at the first meeting. After one short month, the family was living the Word of Wisdom, paying their tithing, and they were then baptized by myself and confirmed by Elder Crabb.

While playing basketball at BYU back in the days of those really short shorts before you were born, one night before a game at the Marriott center, President Ezra Taft Benson, the living Prophet, came to visit us in a reception room. It was a very special 15 minutes. Just before we were headed out to play our coach asked the Prophet if he had any words of wisdom for us. In response, President Benson took about 60 seconds and, for me, taught one of the most important lessons in my life at that time when I was 23, and today in my fifties. Among other things about the Holy Ghost, he said, “The Spirit will be your greatest asset in life. If He is with you, you will achieve all your righteous desires. If He is not, you won’t!” To my best recollection, he went on to say that we can fool a lot of people, but not ourselves. We know if we have the Holy Ghost in our lives, and we know if we do not. He then invited us to do whatever was needed to have the Spirit in our lives.

Growing up, I was raised in a non-denominational Christian home, which I loved. I was, and always will be, incredibly grateful for my family and the things they taught me about God and Jesus Christ. But when I graduated high school, Southern Virginia University reached out to me to play lacrosse on a scholarship. I was hesitant because this school was affiliated with the “Mormon” Church, which I had always been told was crazy.
But for some reason, I knew this was the school I needed to attend.
The first thing I noticed about my classmates who were members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was that they had genuine intentions to do good. I knew from the Bible that I could assess others’ character by their fruits (see Matthew 7:15–20). And the only “fruit” I saw from these Church members was goodness.
Curious, I started asking questions, particularly to a classmate named Coleman, who talked with me for hours about the gospel. When he began preparing to serve a mission, I joined him in reading scriptures every morning. At first, I was cynical about The Book of Mormon. But I started pondering what we read, and I could see the light in the words. I knew I needed to seek the truth for myself.
That April, I watched general conference for the first time and heard President Russell M. Nelson give a talk on faith. He spoke about tiny mustard seeds, saying:
“The mustard seed represents a small but growing faith.
“The Lord does not require perfect faith for us to have access to His perfect power. But He does ask us to believe.”1
With my growing and curious faith in mind, I developed a desire to deepen the roots of my faith in the true gospel. So, I started going to church with my roommates. I fasted and prayed to really know if the Book of Mormon is true.
When I prayed, I felt the Spirit so strongly. It felt like the Savior and Heavenly Father were sitting with me, Their hands on my shoulders. I knew I had found the truth. And I believe They were comforting me because They knew I had a hard decision to make.
I called my mom and told her I had something important to tell her. She jokingly asked if I was joining the “Mormon cult.” When I told her I was indeed going to be baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we both cried. It was a difficult conversation, but I knew I couldn’t deny the truth I had received.
Coleman was able to baptize and confirm me. His family and all my friends from school came to support me. I felt so much love, especially from Heavenly Father.
But my decision to be baptized really strained my relationship with my family. My parents believe I worship a different God now and am bound to go to hell. My 12 siblings all have their own opinions about me joining another Church too. Sometimes it feels like I’m walking on eggshells in our relationships, so I continue to pray their hearts will be softened. I feel the support of the Holy Ghost, and while my family is still adjusting, we make sure we know that we love each other.
Coleman is serving a mission now, but he, his family, and my other ward friends still support me daily. I don’t think I could have made it through this past year without them. And I recently received my temple endowment. The temple has been so helpful to me when I need peace and guidance.
Though not having support from my family has been incredibly hard, God has blessed me beyond what I expected and has given me many mercies as I move forward with faith.
Like Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles described, “The Lord’s tender mercies are the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving-kindnesses, consolation, support, and spiritual gifts which we receive from and because of and through the Lord Jesus Christ.”2
It’s been a long journey, but through my struggles, I’ve turned to Jesus Christ and strengthened my foundation of faith in Him. If you are in a situation where your family doesn’t support your faith in the gospel, you can still have peace and hope in the Savior. I know that as we focus on the daily blessings and tender mercies of the Lord, we will continually become more confident in our testimonies and in His grace. He will always lead us to wonderful blessings like good friends and peace and joy in our hearts. Even in difficult trials, He will always provide us with goodness!

Dan’s thoughts turned to a story a favorite bishop had told him, something which had happened on another Christmas Eve many years ago. His bishop had been a soldier in basic training. It had looked as though there might be no Christmas leave—had looked as though Private Benjamin Clark would have to spend Christmas far from his friends and loved ones.
And then at the last minute had come the welcome orders: Seven days’ Christmas leave, effective immediately.
It had been too late for Ben to make plane reservations—too late to catch a bus out of Monterey. It had been too late to ride home with other Church members from the camp—too late to do anything but walk to the highway and try to get a ride from passing motorists.
A truckdriver named “Red” with a load of California produce had picked up Ben and carried him east into Nevada. He had joined his baritone voice with Red’s Irish tenor, and they had sung up all the Christmas songs either of them had known.
And then in Nevada he had stood in the cold for so long, waiting for a ride north and home. There never was much traffic on that stretch of road—and on a late Christmas Eve night, well …
But at last a car, headlights shining through the dark, had appeared, had slowed, had pulled to a stop, had picked him up. Thank goodness they had been going his way and said they could take him almost all the way to his home town.
Dan recalled how the bishop had described what came next: It was not until he and his army bag were in the back seat and the car had been moving that the young soldier realized the three young men in the front seat were drunk—and getting drunker. They had offered Ben a drink from their bottle and had been offended when he declined.
The young soldier in the back seat had become alarmed. The driver had been much too drunk; the car had been going much too fast; the car radio had been much too loud. A feeling of darkness, of foreboding had filled Ben’s mind as he considered his situation.
Finally, he had said it: “Please! Stop the car! I want to get out!”
The reply had been loud laughter from the front seat. “You hang on, soldier boy, because we’re not stopping for nobody and nothing.”
For several fearful kilometers Ben had listened to the sound of the tires on the highway, the loud music on the radio, the reckless talk and the loud laughter from the front seat. He had endured the strong smell of cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey all around him.
With each kilometer, he had feared more for his life. In his fear, he had turned to prayer. “Heavenly Father, I’m in bad trouble, and I don’t see how I can get out of it. Please help me. Please protect me and preserve my life. Heavenly Father, I’m afraid, and I really need thy help. …”
Dan could recall his bishop’s very words: “And then had come a very quiet, very peaceful prompting telling me to get down on the floor of the car and put my heavy army bag over me.”
He had done so immediately. In the narrow space between the front seat and the back, Ben had hunched down, had wedged himself in tightly, had pulled the weight of the bag over onto his back. Then he had put his forehead on the floor and his hands over his head.
A few minutes later seemed like the end of the world. There had been the sound of screaming tires, the wild swerving of the car out of control—and the jolting, jarring, impact of two high-speed vehicles coming together.
Much later, the young Latter-day Saint soldier had regained consciousness. He had found himself in a black world where he could move neither arms nor legs nor head. There had seemed to be no up nor down, no left nor right, nothing to help orient him. Nothing had stirred within the dead car—except for the smells of gasoline and of vomited whiskey—of sudden death in what had been a front seat.
Perhaps an hour had passed before a big truck had pulled to a stop at the remote accident site. Two truckers had radioed the police for help, surmised that no one in either car could have survived such total destruction.
But the police had discovered otherwise. Along with the dead couple in one car and the three dead teenage boys in the other, they had found and then rescued Private Benjamin Clark.
“Young man,” one trooper had said, “you aren’t too good at picking folks to ride with, but I suspect someone is looking over you and protecting you. I hope you do something good with your life, because you owe Him one. Only God could have brought you through this night with not one scratch on your body.”