Gospel Story Finder

BYU is a big place with many people moving in all directions. It sometimes may seem a difficult task to make a difference in the life of one of your fellow students, faculty, or staff members. I often enjoy looking for examples of good works here on campus and seeing acts of brotherly kindness. Two years ago, when I was appointed director of athletics, I was touched by the many helping hands extended to my associates and me by brothers and sisters across campus. Words of encouragement, free time spent assisting us with our plans, and other extra effort enabled us to lighten our load and ensure us a good start. As a result of their service to us, I feel a strong camaraderie and a greater desire to do more to further build up our campus.

Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Indian tribe was told by his father as a young man:
When I am gone, think of your country. You are the chief of these people. They look to you to guide them. Always remember that your father never sold his country. You must stop your ears whenever you are asked to sign a treaty selling your home. A few years more, and the white men will be all around you. They have their eyes on this land. My son, never forget my dying words. This country holds your father’s body. Never sell the bones of your father and your mother. [Alvin M. Josephy, Jr., Chief Joseph’s People and Their War, Yellowstone Library and Museum Association, 1964, p. 2]

Chief Joseph kept his commitment to his father. He would not sign the treaties that other chiefs signed consigning their people to reservations. Finally, a commission of five men was sent to speak with Chief Joseph and to make a final settlement.

Why, they asked him, did he refuse to give up the Wallowa? He answered by referring to the land as the Mother of the Indians, something that could not be sold or given away. “We love the land,” he said, “It is our home.”

But, they persisted, Lawyer had signed it away in 1863.

Joseph had a ready reply that embarrassed them. “I believe the old treaty has never been correctly reported,” he said. “If we ever owned the land we own it still, for we never sold it. In the treaty councils the commissioners have claimed that our country has been sold to the government. Suppose a white man should come to me and say, ‘Joseph, I like your horses, and I want to buy them.’ Then he goes to my neighbor, and says to him, ‘Joseph has some good horses. I want to buy them but he refuses to sell.’ My neighbor answers, ‘Pay me the money, and I will sell you Joseph’s horses.’ The white man returns to me and says, ‘Joseph, I have bought your horses and you must let me have them.’ If we sold our lands to the government, this is the way they were bought.” [Josephy, Chief Joseph’s People, pp. 3–4]

It was determined later that Chief Joseph and his people would be placed on the reservation by force. General Howard was assigned to the task. The Nez Perce made one of the greatest retreats and attack strategies in all of open war. And mind you, they had every squaw and child and infant in addition to the warriors, and they retreated. They went into the Salmon River country, crossing and recrossing the river. (I don’t know if you have floated the middle fork of the Salmon or the main Salmon, but that would not be an easy task.) Oftentimes General Howard’s soldiers could not get across and were delayed, but somehow the Indians crossed. They battled the army of men and won at every turn. They made a march and forced journey from Oregon into Washington, over into Idaho and the Salmon River country, all the way across the 1,300 miles to Wyoming, and then into Montana. Finally, they camped near the Bear Paw Mountains, some 17 miles from the Canadian border where they felt that after they’d crossed the border, they would be safe. Troops were sent. A siege took place that lasted several days. Finally, Joseph mounted his horse and, followed by several men, rode up the hill from the camp and across to the army lines where Generals Howard and Miles waited for him. He dismounted, handed Miles his rifle, adjusted his blanket to leave his right arm free, and, addressing Miles, began one of the most touching and beautiful surrenders ever made:

Tell General Howard I know his heart. What he told me before I have in my heart. I am tired of fighting. Our chiefs are killed. Looking Glass is dead. Toohoolhoolzote is dead. The old men are all dead. It is the young men who say yes or no. He who led the young men is dead. It is cold and we have no blankets. The little children are freezing to death. My people, some of them, have run away to the hills, and have no blankets, no food; no one knows where they are—perhaps freezing to death. I want to have time to look for my children and see how many I can find. Maybe I shall find them among the dead. Hear me, my chiefs. I am tired; my heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands, I will fight no more forever. [Josephy, Chief Joseph’s People p. 19]

One man recently wrote, "I was born in...Hawaii and remember going to different churches and learning about Jesus Christ as a child. When I was a teenager, my parents separated and I chose not to go to church anymore. Around this time, I got involved with drugs, gangs, criminal activities and eventually ended up in prison....My third time back in prison I realized my actions were affecting my family...I felt like I was letting my family down, especially my sister....I decided to change who I was. I quit all my old habits....But I still felt that I wasn't whole. It wasn't until March 2008 that I found what I was missing. My fiance asked me to attend a baptism for her mother at a church called The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At first I didn't want to go...but we got ready and went. Nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen. During the actual baptism ceremony, I know the Spirit was present as my mother-in-law was [immersed] in the water. I can't explain what happened to me at that moment, but I know now that I felt the Holy Spirit tell me this is what I needed to do. I've never had a feeling like that before in my entire life. Ever since that day I have felt the Holy Spirit touch my heart and open my eyes. It has been only a couple of months now since [my fiance] and I were baptized, but our lives have already changed so much. I strive to do what Heavenly Father wants me to do. The blessings are pouring down on my family."

Elder Alejandro Patanía, a former Area Seventy, relates the story of his younger brother Daniel, who sailed out to sea to go fishing with his crew. After a time, Daniel received an urgent warning that a major storm was rapidly approaching. Immediately, Daniel and his crew started for port.
As the storm intensified, the engine of a nearby fishing boat ceased to function. Daniel’s crew hooked a cable to the disabled boat and began towing it to safety. They radioed for help, knowing that, with the increasing storm, they needed immediate assistance.
As loved ones anxiously waited, representatives from the coast guard, the fishermen’s association, and the navy met to decide the best rescue strategy. Some wanted to leave right away but were told to wait for a plan. While those in the storm continued pleading for help, the representatives continued meeting, trying to agree on the proper protocol and a plan.
When a rescue group was finally organized, one last desperate call came. The raging storm had broken the cable between the two boats, and Daniel’s crew was going back to see if they could save their fellow fishermen. In the end, both ships sank, and their crews, including Elder Patanía’s brother Daniel, were lost.

When I was a young man serving my mission in the Southern Far East Mission, I was assigned to the Taiwan Zone. For over a year, I was the Branch President of the Hualien Branch on the East Coast of Taiwan. One day while riding through the rice paddies, I saw an old red brick traditional Chinese farmhouse set among some tall bamboo groves and with the mountains in the background. I said to myself, I've been here before. I thought and thought until it dawned on me that I had actually seen the exact same scenery in a dream when I was in elementary school. I didn't remember that dream, until I was actually seeing it first hand. I felt a tingling feeling within me and I knew that this was where the Lord wanted me to serve my mission. I learned the value of personal revelation.

In the country of Angola, opposition threatened to thwart the desire of faithful and obedient Saints to see the gospel take root in their land. The Lord had sent His servants to open the door to missionary work, but on the eve of their scheduled travel, visas still had not been granted. When Church representatives visited immigration officials about the delay, they were turned away.
With approval from the First Presidency to dedicate Angola for missionary work, Elder D. Todd Christofferson of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and others awaited word in Johannesburg, South Africa. At the same time, faithful member Paulina Lassalete da Cunha Gonçalves tried to open what seemed to be a closing door. She hoped to obtain letters of invitation that would grant permission for the Church party to enter Angola. Once there, they could then obtain necessary visas.
Within minutes of government offices closing in Angola, Elder Christofferson assembled with those waiting in the Africa Southeast Area offices. Then, kneeling in prayer, he asked Heavenly Father to intervene. In that same hour, immediately following his prayer of faith, the letters of invitation were signed. A loving Father in Heaven had prepared the way for the day of dedication. At the request of Elder Christofferson, a humble prayer of thanks was offered for the granted miracle.4

A Study Abroad Experience in Vienna
The BYU School of Music sponsors a study abroad program in Vienna, Austria, each spring term. I had never had a study abroad experience as a student or as a faculty member, and I had never been to Austria—or even to much of Europe. I really wanted this experience for myself and even more for my family.
In August 2015 I emailed the new director of the School of Music to let him know I would like to lead this program sometime.
He immediately replied, “How about this next spring term?”
Again I hesitated. That was only eight months away! I had no idea how to do anything in a study abroad program, but I knew that it would be a lot of work. And I did not speak German. What was I thinking?
But my husband, Steve, who was also anxious for this experience, said, “Reply yes!”
As I expected, it was a lot of work to ­prepare for the program. However, the ­experience was even more than I had hoped for. For a ­musician, Vienna—the home of Mozart, Schubert, Johann Strauss, and Beethoven, among others—is a paradise. We heard wonderful concerts and operas. We saw beautiful and historical places throughout Austria, Italy, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, and England. My teenage children not only experienced Europe but learned that they could face challenging and unknown situations and could learn to adapt—including adapting to haircuts from non–English-speaking Turks. They saw the Church as an international congregation in Vienna and as a branch of twenty in a village in England. All of the participants gained confidence and grew parts of their own testimonies. In addition, we added nineteen wonderful BYU students to our family circle. It was life changing.
I cringe to think that my hesitation might have robbed us of those experiences and of our individual opportunities for growth.

A story shared by our beloved associate, Elder Henry B. Eyring, illustrates this principle of commitment still further. This story is about his father, the great scientist Henry Eyring, who served on the Bonneville Stake high council. He was responsible for the welfare farm, which included a field of onions that needed to be weeded. At that time, he was nearly 80 and suffering from painful bone cancer. He assigned himself to do weeding even though the pain was so great that he pulled himself along on his stomach with his elbows. The pain was too great for him to kneel. Yet he smiled, laughed, and talked happily with the others who were there that day weeding that field of onions. I now quote what Elder Eyring said of this incident:

“After all the work was finished and the onions were all weeded, someone [said to] him, ‘Henry, good heavens! You didn’t pull those weeds, did you? Those weeds were sprayed two days ago, and they were going to die anyway.’

“Dad just roared. He thought that was the funniest thing. He thought it was a great joke on himself. He had worked through the day in the wrong weeds. They had been sprayed and would have died anyway.

“… I [asked] him, ‘Dad how could you make a joke out of that?’ …

“He said something to me that I will never forget. … He said, ‘Hal, I wasn’t there for the weeds.’”

He continued to work on the farm and later went to the University of Utah. During his years at college he played football, played piano for a dance band, and was elected president of his senior class. His professional plans were made as his graduation drew near, but shortly before receiving his diploma he received a letter from President Wilford Woodruff, calling him to serve a mission in Great Britain. It was a major decision—and he struggled with it, as must some young men today. His ultimate decision, however, was to set aside his plans and accept the call.

A few months ago word reached some of our missionaries in a remote South Pacific island that I would soon be visiting there for two or three days. When I arrived, the missionaries were waiting anxiously to share with me some anti-Mormon literature that was being circulated in their area. They were disturbed by the accusations and were eager to plan retaliation.
The elders sat on the edge of their chairs as I read the slander and false declarations issued by a minister who apparently felt threatened by their presence and successes. As I read the pamphlet containing the malicious and ridiculous statements, I actually smiled, much to the surprise of my young associates. When I finished, they asked, “What do we do now? How can we best counteract such lies?”
I answered, “To the author of these words, we do nothing. We have no time for contention. We only have time to be about our Father’s business. Contend with no man. Conduct yourselves as gentlemen with calmness and conviction and I promise you success.”

Mother sighed. “It’s a picture of my cousin Kenny and me. Kenny was my best friend too. We both loved the early spring, when buds began to form on brown branches, green grass peeked out from patches of melting snow, and the river roared through the farm with spring runoff. Kenny was deaf and couldn’t hear it, but he could feel the spring sun warm his back as he played with Bridget, his huge pet sheep who was about to have baby lambs.
“We were both five. We talked to each other with our own made-up sign language. I loved playing with his large collection of farm toys, and he was always willing to share them.
“On that beautiful spring afternoon, the snow had been totally replaced by a carpet of green grass, and the creek had calmed from a roar to a strong, pleasant chuckle. Our mothers decided to let us go fishing.
“I was eager to try out my new bamboo fishing pole. A real fishing pole. Always before I had used a thick stick, like the one Kenny was still using.
“We sat side by side on our little perch, not moving so that we wouldn’t scare the fish. I threw my line into the creek, just the way my mother had shown me, being careful not to get it tangled. Kenny just sat there with his stick-pole, a sad expression on his face. Oh no! I thought. He wants a new pole too.
“Soon he motioned to me in our own private language that he wanted to use my new fishing pole. I shrugged him away, pretending not to understand. He tried again, more insistent this time. I looked away, pointedly ignoring him. Frustrated, he tried to pull the pole out of my hands.
“I pried his fingers off my pole and pushed him away. I wanted to tell him, ‘Just let me use it first for a little while. I’ll let you try it if you’ll only wait until I’m ready.’ But I didn’t know how.
“He was hurt and turned away. I reached over to pinch him, angry because he wouldn’t let me enjoy my new pole even for a moment.
“I looked up to see my mother taking our picture. My face burned with shame. I felt small and little and mean. I didn’t feel like fishing anymore.
“Handing my precious new pole to Kenny, I left to go play with Bridget. I loved to put my fingers deep into her soft wool. I looked back to see that Kenny was offering me his thick stick and motioning for me to come back and sit by him, but I ignored him.
“We had a picnic that day on the vast green lawn, with fancy little sandwiches cut in the shape of hearts, pink lemonade, and Aunt Dorothy’s angel food cake. We laughed when Bridget tried to steal a nibble.
“That was the last time I ever got to play with Kenny. Our mothers had planned this special day for us because Kenny was going into the hospital to have surgery, which the doctors hoped would help his ears.
“But something went wrong. Kenny died. My mother said that Kenny went to live with Jesus. I didn’t understand why he couldn’t stay right here with us.
“I missed him terribly. His mother put away all his farm toys and never got them out again. I wanted to play with them because then I could pretend that he was playing with me.
“Mom’s pictures came back from being developed, and the pinch was in that picture! Mom had the picture made big and ordered several copies so that Grandma and all my aunts and uncles could have a picture of Kenny.
“I have always felt sad about that mean pinch. Every time I see that picture of Kenny and me fishing, it makes me feel bad.”

“Although I am far past the age of youth, the situation here so touched my heart that I felt duty-bound to reply. Fifteen years ago, when I was 18, I joined the Church. I was at that time and still am the only member of my immediate family who has ever joined.

“Through the years there have been many situations where the easy thing to do would have been to ‘honor my parents’ and do what they said, but I always felt I honored my parents more by strictly adhering to the gospel teachings.

“When I was 21, my husband-to-be, knowing of my family situation, asked where I wanted to be married. I replied that we had been taught to marry in the temple, and although it caused hard feelings at the time, we did just that. My family got over it, and now, 13 years later, when we are trying to teach our children correct principles, we tell them that we were married in the temple and that they should be married there also.

“Over the years we have insisted on being allowed to attend our Church meetings, to pay our tithes and offerings, to fast, and not to party on Sunday, and all of it has had a real effect. Not long ago my mother said to my husband, ‘I think that joining the Church was the best thing Diane ever did.’”

When Ann and I were newlyweds, President Ezra Taft Benson taught that we should not delay having children. Our first was born not long thereafter. When Ann became pregnant with our third child, we called her non-member parents to give them the news.

Her father was so upset that we were contributing to what he saw as the overpopulation of the earth that he hung up on us. Fortunately, my father and mother’s example and President Benson’s admonition overcame the thinking of the world. We went on to have five children. They are our greatest accomplishment and our most rewarding joy.

A few months before my baptism, I went to the baptism of two of my friends. Both of them sang a song during their baptism service. When we got home, my mom suggested I write down my feelings about being baptized, since I write a lot of songs. I went into my room and wrote down a few thoughts. My mom said what I had written was very special, and that we should have my grandma put my words to music. So we did. A few months later, at my own baptism I sang the song I had written. I was really nervous, but I felt the Spirit help me. I’m really glad to have my very own baptism song!

In a general conference address many years later, President McKay related the following childhood experience with prayer:
“I remember lying [in bed] one night, trembling with fear. As a child I was naturally, or unnaturally afraid of the darkness, and would frequently lie wondering about burglars, ‘bug-a-boos,’ and unseen influences. So I lay this night completely unnerved; but I had been taught that God would answer prayer. Summoning strength I arose from the bed, knelt down in the darkness, and prayed to God to remove that feeling of fear; and I heard as plainly as you hear my voice this afternoon, ‘Don’t be afraid; nothing will hurt you.’ Oh, yes, some may say—‘simply the imagination.’ Say what you will, I know that to my soul came the sweet peace of a child’s prayer answered.”4

A case in point: the dark days of 1838 when the Saints were driven from Missouri. The setting was as follows: A vast number of Mormon families had been burned out of their homes by mobs. Fathers were tied to trees and bullwhipped. Thirty-four people, including men and children, had been massacred at a settlement known as Haun’s Mill. Shortly thereafter, the Mormon settlement at Far West, Missouri, was besieged and sacked by the state militia. Soldiers raped some of the women so many times that they died from the torture. Joseph Smith had been betrayed by a friend and turned over to military mobsters to be killed. He was taken to a small dungeon called Liberty Jail. During the four months of imprisonment, Joseph and his companions were abused, fed human flesh, and left in filthy conditions.

Joseph Smith felt abandoned by God. In a prayer Joseph questioned from the depths of his soul:

O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?
How long shall thy hand be stayed, and thine eye, yea thy pure eye, behold from the eternal heavens the wrongs of thy people? [D&C 121:1–2]

In response to this prayer of the soul’s desperation, Joseph heard God:

My son, peace be unto thy soul; thine adversity and thine afflictions shall be but a small moment;
And then, if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high. . . .
. . . Know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.
The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he? [D&C 121:7–8; 122:7–8]

Confronted with what seemed to be overwhelming evil, Joseph found meaning in his suffering, maintained hope, trusted God, and kept the faith. And God spoke peace.

Elsewhere two families in a small rural ward began feuding years ago. Although the exact circumstances are difficult for anyone to remember, it had something to do with a remark made by one father to another. The original observation was innocent, but it was misunderstood, and within days several variations of the story had spread. Feelings were hurt, sides were taken, and for years bitter feelings have chased the Spirit from them at activities and gatherings. Local leaders have tried to provide counsel and encouragement. Often those actions have been misunderstood as well. Today members of an entire family, including children and grandchildren, refuse to attend church largely because a simple observation blew up into a fire of faultfinding and criticism.

After living for twenty years in the same ward, I married and moved to a distant city, where my husband continued his schooling. The people were friendly, but I was shy by nature and struggled to feel comfortable. One Sunday morning as I stood up from the bench at the back of the chapel and turned to go to Sunday School, a member of the bishopric greeted me with a smile and a handshake. Brother Goates was one of many who had extended themselves in becoming acquainted with us. As he shook my hand, he said, “Virginia, get off the back row and quit thinking about yourself!” All at once I saw with a new perspective. He was right, but I didn’t quite know how to quit thinking about myself. However, as the weeks moved on, the acceptance of a calling automatically moved me off the back row, demanding that I think about someone besides myself. My comfort and confidence grew proportionately. Callings and assignments are easy ways to become involved in the lives of others. Paradoxically, as we concentrate on the needs of others, our own needs become less controlling.

When he was fourteen, Joseph’s family moved to Manchester, New York, where they were soon caught up in the religious excitement of the period. Some of them joined the Presbyterian church, but Joseph could not decide which church was true.
One day he read James 1:5: “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him.” He decided to follow this advice.
It was a spring morning in 1820 when Joseph walked to a woods near his home to ask God which church was true. He later wrote about what happened, saying, “I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me.
“… When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!” (JS—H 1:16–17.)
When Joseph asked which church he should join, Jesus answered that he should join none of them.
Joseph’s family believed him when he told them what he had seen and heard, but others in the community began to persecute him because he would not deny that he had seen a vision.
Three years later, on the evening of September 21, 1823, the Angel Moroni appeared beside Joseph’s bed while the young man was praying. Moroni told Joseph, among other things, about a record written upon gold plates and hidden in a hillside. He said that Joseph was to translate it. The angel appeared to Joseph three times that night, each time repeating the same message. The next day Joseph went to the place he had seen in the vision, and there he found a stone box containing the plates.
Joseph was not allowed to take the plates and translate them until four years later. When word got out that Joseph had some gold plates, the persecutions against him increased and many people attempted to steal the plates. But Joseph always managed to keep them safely hidden.
On May 15, 1829, a part of the plates Joseph was translating was about baptism for the remission of sins. Curious, he and his scribe, Oliver Cowdery, prayed about it. John the Baptist appeared to them and conferred the Aaronic Priesthood upon them and told them to baptize each other. Joseph baptized Oliver, and then Oliver baptized Joseph. They then ordained each other to the Aaronic Priesthood. Later they received the Melchizedek Priesthood from Peter, James, and John, the ancient apostles.
On April 6, 1830, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was formally organized. Its membership grew rapidly. In 1831, Joseph and his wife Emma moved to Kirtland, Ohio, where many of the new members were gathering. While there, Joseph prepared for publication the revelations he had received so far. This Book of Commandments was later expanded and published as the Doctrine and Covenants.
On March 27, 1836, Joseph dedicated the Kirtland Temple. Only two years later he and other faithful followers were forced to flee to Far West, Missouri, because of persecutions.
When the Saints first arrived at Far West, they were accepted by the local citizens. But as their numbers and political influence grew, mobs persecuted the Saints and burned some of their homes. Governor Boggs sent thousands of troops to Far West with instructions to kill all of the Saints if necessary to restore peace. The Saints were forced to give up their guns, and mobs entered Far West and ransacked their homes. The Saints were then told to leave the state before the next spring or be killed.
Meanwhile Joseph and several other Church leaders had been taken prisoner. After spending about six months in various jails without being legally charged with any offense, the guards allowed them to escape. They fled to Quincy, Illinois, where many of the Saints had gone after being driven out of Far West.
In May 1839 Joseph directed the purchase of a large piece of swampland in Commerce, Illinois, and a great many Saints began to move into the area. Commerce was later renamed Nauvoo.
Nauvoo grew. The swampland was drained and cleared, and buildings were completed. Among other things, Joseph oversaw the building of a new temple, edited a newspaper, ran a store, and served as mayor of the city and head of the Nauvoo militia.
Once again the neighboring communities came to resent the Saints because of their strength, prosperity, and political influence. The Nauvoo Expositor, a local newspaper, added to the Saints’ trouble by printing lies about the Church leaders.
On June 10, 1844, a group of men under orders from the city council destroyed the newspaper’s press. Joseph and some of the other brethren were charged with inciting a riot, but were later found not guilty.
Governor Ford wanted Joseph to be tried again at Carthage, Illinois, Joseph felt that if he went there, he would probably be killed, so on June 23, 1844, he rowed across the Mississippi River to avoid arrest. In a letter, Emma pleaded with him to return and surrender. Joseph also learned that some of the Saints were calling him a coward for leaving. “If my life is of no value to my friends,” he said, “it is of none to myself.” He returned to Nauvoo, and on Monday, June 24, he and the others charged in the case went to Carthage to surrender.
When they got to Carthage, they were released on bail until a circuit court judge could hear the case. Joseph and Hyrum went to talk to Governor Ford. While there, they were rearrested on charges of treason.
Joseph and Hyrum were again jailed; John Taylor and Willard Richards went with them.
On June 27, 1844, shortly after 5:00 P.M., a mob rushed up the jail stairs to the room where the prisoners were being held. The culprits tried to break through the door, but were unable to. Shooting through the door, they hit Hyrum, who fell, saying, “I am a dead man.”
Joseph went to the window where he was shot twice from inside the building and twice more from outside. He fell out of the window to the ground and died. John Taylor was shot four times and lay under a bed, severely wounded. Willard Richards was not injured during the shooting.
After the martyrdom, John Taylor wrote, “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it. … He lived great, and he died great in the eyes of God and his people; and like most of the Lord’s anointed in ancient times, has sealed his mission and his works with his own blood …” (D&C 135:3).

Jenni Lynn was still worried about yesterday’s Primary lesson. Carefully shutting her bedroom door, she pulled her thinking chair out of the corner and sat down to give some thought to what she had learned in Primary. Jenni Lynn was seven years old, and Sister Hendley, her teacher, had told the children about baptism and confirmation. Sister Hendley said that every person who was confirmed a member of the Church received the gift of the Holy Ghost.
Jenni Lynn was afraid of ghosts. When her friends told ghost stories, she plugged her ears. When scary shows came on television, she ran into her bedroom and shut the door. Shawn, her big brother, and Lisa, her big sister, laughed at Jenni Lynn and called her a scaredy-cat. She didn’t like their teasing, but still she was afraid of ghosts.
She wanted to be baptized and to become a member of the Church. But I don’t want to have a ghost around, Jenni Lynn worried. In two more months I’ll be eight. What can I do?
At dinner Jenni Lynn watched Shawn and Lisa. She watched Mother and Daddy too. They had all been baptized and confirmed. They all had the gift of the Holy Ghost. But they didn’t act as though they were scared. She was the only one. Maybe I shouldn’t be afraid either, she reasoned.
The telephone rang, interrupting Jenni Lynn’s thoughts.
After Dad had answered the telephone, he said, “Grandma is coming a day early. I have to go to the airport after dinner and pick her up.”
“Oh, my,” said Mother. “I’m going to need some help getting everything ready.”
“We’ll help!” the children said, jumping up from the table.
Shawn helped clear the table. Lisa didn’t complain once as she did the dishes. Jenni Lynn helped Mother get Grandma’s room ready. She dusted the dresser and helped Mother put pretty flowered sheets on the bed.
“Grandma will need a blanket, too,” said Mother. “Jenni Lynn, will you please go get the comforter out of the cedar closet.”
Jenni Lynn ran into her parents’ bedroom. She started to open the cedar closet and stopped. Sister Hendley had said that another name for the Holy Ghost is the Comforter. What if a ghost were in the closet? She turned and ran back to her mother. Trying not to look frightened, she asked, “What’s a comforter?”
“It’s a soft, fluffy quilt,” Mother answered as she opened the dresser drawers to see if they were clean.
“Why is it called a comforter?” Jenni Lynn asked.
“Because it’s warm and soft. When you wrap it around you it makes you feel safe and good inside,” Mother explained.
Jenni Lynn sighed with relief. There wasn’t a ghost after all. She ran back to the bedroom, opened the door to the cedar closet, and lifted down a beautiful pink satin comforter. It was shiny and slippery to touch. Then she sat on the bed and pulled the comforter around her and over her head until there was only a hole big enough to peek through.
Mother was right, thought Jenni Lynn inside her comforter cave. I feel warm and safe in here. She sat still for a long time because it felt so good.
“Hurry, dear,” said Mother, coming into the room. When she saw her daughter, she asked, “What are you doing all wrapped up in that comforter?”
Jenni Lynn peeked out. “It feels good, Mother,” she said. “Just like when you hold me on your lap.”
“Does it, little one?” smiled Mother as she sat on the bed and cuddled Jenni Lynn close.
“Mother, why do they call the Holy Ghost the Comforter?” asked Jenni Lynn.
“Because He’s a special friend. He comforts you. That means He makes you feel warm and safe and helps you solve your problems,” answered Mother.
“Just like this comforter makes me feel warm and safe; right, Mother?” asked Jenni Lynn.
“Almost,” said Mother. “Except He’s a real person.”
Jenni Lynn snuggled closer to her mother and said, “But I thought that He was a scary ghost. I was afraid of Him.”
Mother laughed. “You and your ghosts! Well, He’s not that kind of ghost. The Holy Ghost is just a name that shows He is a spirit without a body. He loves us and Jesus sent Him to help us. Now why don’t you help me put that satin comforter on Grandma’s bed?”
Jenni Lynn jumped off the bed and helped Mother gather up the comforter in her arms. Just as they reached the door, she looked up at Mother and said, “Know what? I can hardly wait until I have the Holy Ghost for my friend.”