Gospel Story Finder

Recently I was privileged to meet a modern-day pioneer, a beloved daughter of God and recent convert to the Church in Chile. She is a single mother with two young sons. Through the power of the Atonement, she has been enabled to put her past behind her and is now earnestly striving to become a true disciple of Jesus Christ. As I think of her, a principle taught by Elder David A. Bednar comes to mind: “It is one thing to know that Jesus Christ came to earth to die for us—that is fundamental and foundational to the doctrine of Christ. But we also need to appreciate that the Lord desires, through His Atonement and by the power of the Holy Ghost, to live in us—not only to direct us but also to empower us.”
As this Chilean sister and I discussed how to stay on the path leading to eternal life, she enthusiastically assured me that she was determined to continue on the path. She had been off the path most of her life, and she declared that there was nothing “out there” off the path that she wanted to have back in her life again. The enabling power of the Atonement is living inside of her. It is being written in her heart.

It calls to mind an incident I read that tells of the naturalist, William Beebe, who made a visit to another naturalist whose name was Theodore Roosevelt. In describing the visit, William Beebe said that each evening, after a talk in Roosevelt’s home at Sagamore Hill, the two men would go out on the lawn and gaze up at the sky to see who could first detect that faint spot of light-mist beyond the lower left-hand corner of the Great Square of Pegasus. Then one or the other would recite: “That is the Spiral Galaxy of Andromeda. It is as large as our Milky Way. It is one of a hundred million galaxies. It is 750,000 light-years away. It consists of one hundred billion suns, each larger than our sun.” After an interval Beebe reported that Mr. Roosevelt would grin at him and say, “Now I think we are small enough. Let’s go to bed.”

Ryan Hughes (10) has a friend who lives in his front yard. He’s not an ordinary friend, of course. He has four legs, a long tail, and he moves so fast that Ryan hasn’t been able to catch him … yet.
He and his family—Dad, Robert; Mom, Leah; Tanya (16); Joshua (14); and Kayla (8)—used to live in Texas, and that’s where Ryan came to know lizards. His favorite spot there was a field where there were scores of them. When the family moved, Ryan was glad to find out that Georgia has a fair amount of lizards also. On a recent TV news program, Ryan learned of a boy who has trained a lizard to jump through hoops. Ryan has big plans for the reptile in his front yard!

On a recent trip to Illinois I took along the September New Era. It proved to be a good companion while I was waiting for planes. But it was on the return trip that it showed its true worth.
I met a woman from Missouri who had heard of our church from some missionaries but had told them she was satisfied with her religion. After talking for an hour I showed her the New Era and explained a little about our youth programs. She asked to read it, and she turned right to the story of Gary Sheide’s conversion. She read it, asking questions all the while. I prayed that in some way she would be touched by what she read. Three and a half hours later I said goodbye to her as we landed in Salt Lake City. I left the plane with a four-dollar check for a subscription to the New Era, her address, and high hopes. She is interested now, and I’d just like to say thanks to Gary Sheide, Elaine McKay, and the New Era for helping me talk about the gospel. It was a beautiful and new experience.
Laurie A. McCauslandPleasant Grove, Utah

As a young couple, my husband and I were called by our bishop to visit and minister to a family who hadn’t been to church in many years. We willingly accepted the assignment and went to their home a few days later. It was immediately clear to us that they did not want visitors from the Church.
So on our next visit, we approached them with a plate of cookies, confident that chocolate chips would melt their hearts. They didn’t. The couple spoke to us through the screen door, making it even clearer that we weren’t welcome. But as we drove home, we were fairly certain success might have been achieved had we only offered them Rice Krispies Treats instead.
Our lack of spiritual vision made additional failed attempts frustrating. Rejection is never comfortable. Over time we began to ask ourselves, “Why are we doing this? What is our purpose?”
Elder Carl B. Cook made this observation: “Serving in the Church … can be challenging if we are asked to do something that frightens us, if we grow weary of serving, or if we are called to do something that we do not initially find appealing.”1 We were experiencing the truth of Elder Cook’s words when we decided we had to seek direction from Someone with a greater perspective than our own.
So, after much sincere prayer and study, we received the answer to the why of our service. We had a change in our understanding, a change of heart, actually a revelatory experience.2 As we sought direction from the scriptures, the Lord taught us how to make the process of serving others easier and more meaningful. Here is the verse we read that changed both our hearts and our approach: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy might, mind, and strength; and in the name of Jesus Christ thou shalt serve him.”3 Though this verse was so familiar, it seemed to speak to us in a new and important way.
We realized that we were sincerely striving to serve this family and to serve our bishop, but we had to ask ourselves if we were really serving out of love for the Lord. King Benjamin made clear this distinction when he stated, “Behold, I say unto you that because I said unto you that I had spent my days in your service, I do not desire to boast, for I have only been in the service of God.”4
As our focus gradually changed, so did our prayers. We began looking forward to our visits with this dear family because of our love for the Lord.5 We were doing it for Him. He made the struggle no longer a struggle. After many months of our standing on the doorstep, the family began letting us in. Eventually, we had regular prayer and tender gospel discussions together. A long-lasting friendship developed. We were worshipping and loving Him by loving His children.
Maybe our bishop knew that was the lesson my husband and I would learn from those early and well-intentioned, yet not perfect, efforts to minister to God’s beloved sons and daughters. I bear my personal and sure witness of the goodness and love He shares with us even as we strive to serve for Him. In the sacred name of Jesus Christ, amen.

When it comes to community service projects, the young men and women from the Reno Nevada North Stake are always willing to pitch in. They recently helped on two separate projects and are making quite a name for LDS youth among local community leaders.
One project involved participation in Reno’s annual “Adopt a Park Day.” The LDS youth selected Idlewild Park, the city’s largest, and spent the day painting picnic tables, varnishing bleachers, weeding, picking up trash, sweeping parking lots, and spreading sand on the playground.
The other project involved the stake Young Women. They spent a day helping the Committee to Aid Abused Women, and the children of those women. They made toys for the children and provided a party for them. They also collected items needed by the mothers, such as blankets, dishes, and clothing.

The eruption of Tambora affected weather in North America through the following year. Spring gave way to snowfall and killing frosts, and 1816 passed into memory as the year without a summer.6 In Vermont, in the northeast corner of the United States, rocky hills had frustrated a farmer named Joseph Smith Sr. for years. But that season, as he and his wife, Lucy Mack Smith, watched their crops shrivel under the relentless frosts, they knew they faced financial ruin and an uncertain future if they stayed where they were.
At 45, Joseph Sr. was no longer a young man, and the prospect of starting over on new land was daunting. He knew his oldest sons, 18-year-old Alvin and 16-year-old Hyrum, could help him clear the land, build a house, and plant and harvest crops. His 13-year-old daughter, Sophronia, was old enough to help Lucy with her work in the house and around the farm. His younger sons, 8-year-old Samuel and 5-year-old William, were becoming more helpful, and 3-year-old Katharine and newborn Don Carlos would one day be old enough to contribute.
But his middle son, 10-year-old Joseph Jr., was a different matter. Four years earlier, Joseph Jr. had undergone an operation to remove an infection in his leg. Since then he had walked with a crutch. Although his leg was starting to feel sturdy again, Joseph Jr. had a painful limp, and Joseph Sr. did not know if he would grow up to be as strong as Alvin and Hyrum.7
Certain they could rely on each other, the Smiths resolved to abandon their home in Vermont for better land.8 Like others in the area, Joseph Sr. decided to travel to the state of New York, where he hoped to find a good farm they could buy on credit. He would then send for Lucy and the children, and the family could start over.
As Joseph Sr. set out for New York, Alvin and Hyrum walked him down the road before saying goodbye. Joseph Sr. loved his wife and children dearly, but he had not been able to provide them much stability in life. Bad luck and unsuccessful investments had kept the family poor and rootless. Maybe New York would be different.9
The following winter, Joseph Jr. hobbled through the snow with his mother, brothers, and sisters. They were on their way west to a New York village named Palmyra, near where Joseph Sr. had found good land and was waiting for his family.
Since her husband could not help with the move, Lucy had hired a man named Mr. Howard to drive their wagon. On the road, Mr. Howard handled their belongings roughly and gambled and drank away the money they paid him. And after they joined up with another family traveling west, Mr. Howard kicked Joseph out of the wagon so the other family’s daughters could sit with him as he drove the team.
Knowing how much it hurt Joseph to walk, Alvin and Hyrum tried to stand up to Mr. Howard a few times. But each time he knocked them down with the butt of his whip.10
If he had been bigger, Joseph probably would have tried to stand up to Mr. Howard himself. His hurt leg had kept him from work and play, but his strong will made up for his weak body. Before the doctors had cut into his leg and chipped away infected pieces of bone, they had wanted to tie him down or give him brandy to dull the pain. But Joseph had asked only that his father hold him.
He had stayed awake and alert the whole time, his face pale and dripping with sweat. His mother, who was usually so strong, had nearly fallen apart when she heard his screams. After that, she probably felt that she could bear anything.11
As Joseph limped along beside the wagon, he could see his mother was certainly bearing with Mr. Howard. They had already traveled two hundred miles (322 km), and so far she had been more than patient with the driver’s bad behavior.
About a hundred miles from Palmyra, Lucy was preparing for another day on the road when she saw Alvin running toward her. Mr. Howard had thrown their goods and luggage onto the street and was about to leave with their horses and wagon.
Lucy found the man in a bar. “As there is a God in heaven,” she declared, “that wagon and those horses as well as the goods accompanying them are mine.”
She looked around the bar. It was filled with men and women, most of them travelers like her. “This man,” she said, meeting their gaze, “is determined to take away from me every means of proceeding on my journey, leaving me with eight little children utterly destitute.”
Mr. Howard said that he had already spent the money she paid him to drive the wagon, and he could go no farther.
“I have no use for you,” Lucy said. “I shall take charge of the team myself.”
She left Mr. Howard in the bar and vowed to reunite her children with their father, come what may.12
The road ahead was muddy and cold, but Lucy led her family safely to Palmyra. As she watched the children cling to their father and kiss his face, she felt rewarded for all they had suffered to get there.
The family soon rented a small house in town and discussed how to get their own farm.13 The best plan, they decided, was to work until they had enough money for a down payment on land in the nearby woods. Joseph Sr. and the older sons dug wells, split fence rails, and harvested hay for cash, while Lucy and the daughters made and sold pies, root beer, and decorative cloths to provide food for the family.14
As Joseph Jr. got older, his leg grew stronger and he could easily walk through Palmyra. In town, he came in contact with people from all over the region, and many of them were turning to religion to satisfy spiritual yearnings and explain the hardships of life. Joseph and his family did not belong to a church, but many of their neighbors worshipped in one of the tall Presbyterian chapels, the Baptists’ meetinghouse, the Quaker hall, or the campground where traveling Methodist preachers held revival meetings from time to time.15
When Joseph was 12, religious debates swept Palmyra. Although he read little, he liked to think deeply about ideas. He listened to preachers, hoping to learn more about his immortal soul, but their sermons often left him unsettled. They told him he was a sinner in a sinful world, helpless without the saving grace of Jesus Christ. And while Joseph believed the message and felt bad about his sins, he was not sure how to find forgiveness.16
He thought going to church could help him, but he could not settle on a place to worship. The different churches argued endlessly about how people could be free of sin. After listening to these arguments for a while, Joseph was distressed to see people reading the same Bible but coming to different conclusions about its meaning. He believed God’s truth was out there—somewhere—but he did not know how to find it.17
His parents were not sure either. Lucy and Joseph Sr. both came from Christian families and believed in the Bible and Jesus Christ. Lucy attended church meetings and often brought her children with her. She had been seeking the true church of Jesus Christ since the death of her sister many years earlier.
Once, after falling gravely ill sometime before Joseph’s birth, she had feared that she would die before finding the truth. She sensed a dark and lonely chasm between her and the Savior, and she knew she was unprepared for the next life.
Lying awake all night, she prayed to God, promising Him that if He let her live, she would find the Church of Jesus Christ. As she prayed, the voice of the Lord spoke to her, assuring her that if she would seek, she would find. She had visited more churches since then, but she had still not found the right one. Yet even when it felt like the Savior’s Church was no longer on the earth, she kept searching, trusting that going to church was better than not.18
Like his wife, Joseph Sr. hungered for the truth. But he felt that attending no church at all was preferable to the wrong one. Following the counsel of his father, Joseph Sr. searched the scriptures, prayed earnestly, and believed that Jesus Christ had come to save the world.19 Yet he could not reconcile what he felt to be true with the confusion and discord he saw in the churches around him. One night he had dreamed that contending preachers were like cattle, bellowing as they dug at the earth with their horns, which deepened his concern that they knew little about God’s kingdom.20
Seeing his parents’ dissatisfaction with local churches only confused Joseph Jr. more.21 His soul was at stake, but no one could give him satisfying answers.
After saving their money for more than a year, the Smiths had enough to make a payment on a hundred acres of forest in Manchester, just south of Palmyra. There, between jobs as hired hands, they tapped maple trees for their sugary sap, planted an orchard, and cleared fields to grow crops.22
As he worked the land, young Joseph continued to worry about his sins and the welfare of his soul. The religious revival in Palmyra had quieted down, but preachers continued to compete for converts there and throughout the region.23 Day and night, Joseph watched the sun, moon, and stars roll through the heavens in order and majesty and admired the beauty of the earth teeming with life. He also looked at the people around him and marveled at their strength and intelligence. Everything seemed to testify that God existed and had created humankind in His own image. But how could Joseph reach Him?24
In the summer of 1819, when Joseph was 13, Methodist preachers gathered for a conference a few miles from the Smith farm and spread out across the countryside to spur families like Joseph’s toward conversion. The success of these preachers worried other ministers in the area, and soon competition for converts was intense.
Joseph attended meetings, listened to soul-stirring preaching, and witnessed converts shout for joy. He wanted to shout with them, but he often felt like he was in the middle of a war of words and opinions. “Who of all these parties are right; or, are they all wrong together?” he asked himself. “If any one of them be right, which is it, and how shall I know it?” He knew he needed Christ’s grace and mercy, but with so many people and churches clashing over religion, he did not know where to find it.25
Hope that he could find answers—and peace for his soul—seemed to slip away from him. He wondered how anyone could find truth amid so much noise.26
While attending a sermon, Joseph heard a minister quote from the first chapter of James in the New Testament. “If any of you lack wisdom,” he said, “let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not.”27
Joseph went home and read the verse in the Bible. “Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine,” he later remembered. “It seemed to enter with great force into every feeling of my heart. I reflected on it again and again, knowing that if any person needed wisdom from God, I did.” He had searched the Bible before as if it held all the answers. But now the Bible was telling him he could go directly to God for personal answers to his questions.
After Much Contemplation, by Al Rounds
Joseph decided to pray. He had never prayed out loud before, but he trusted the Bible’s promise. “Ask in faith, nothing wavering,” it taught.28 God would hear his questions—even if they came out awkwardly.

Way back in 1969, I was in South America. I flew from Argentina to Santiago, Chile. The Andes mountains were dry. There was no snow. The grass was burned. Chile was in the midst of a devastating drought.
The people pleaded for help in bringing moisture.
We dedicated two new buildings on that visit. In each of those dedicatory services we pleaded with the Lord for rain upon the land. I have the testimony of many who were in those meetings that the heavens were opened and the rains fell with such abundance that the people asked the Lord to shut them off.

In May 1977 the sun had finally come out in Sweden and my companion and I had an appointment one morning in a suburb on the south side of Stockholm. We arrived at the apartment complex 20 minutes early. Not much time to accomplish anything and we could conceivably have sat on a bench and enjoyed the sunshine after the long winter. However we discussed it and my companion suggested that we knock on some doors and see if we could talk to someone for a few minutes. Neither of us felt any special prompting to do so. We concluded that we were missionaries and that is what missionaries should be doing. After a few minutes we knocked on a door and a woman came to the door. We introduced ourselves and explained that we had a short message and asked to come in. She said that it was not her apartment. She was just visiting a friend who had stepped out for a moment. We asked her where she lived. She said she lived on the North side of Stockholm. We said that while that was not I our area we had missionaries all over the city. We asked if we could have her address and have some of our colleagues visit her. She agreed. She gave us her address and we gave her a pamphlet about Joseph Smith. I thought no more about the encounter until February 1978. In the intervening months I had served at different places in the mission and in February received a transfer to the Stockholm north zone. At church one Sunday not long after my arrival I was approached by a sister who asked "Elder Bates, do you remember me?" I said "no I'm sorry." She said "last May you and your companion knocked on a door in Jordbro. I was visiting a friend. I gave you my address and you gave me a pamphlet. I was baptized in September." When we do what we are supposed to do, what we are called to do, the Lord will use us to bless the lives of others. Whether it is through missionary work, visiting, home teaching, primary, young women's or young men's if we walk uprightly we will be blessed and we will and bless others.

As years passed and my life experiences piled up, I began to see evidence of God’s love for everyone around me, but I did not always expect or recognize His love for myself. I questioned my worth as an individual.
In July of 2008, I felt strongly impressed to leave a job that was no longer good for me. I didn’t have another job, but it was early in my career and options seemed limitless. Also, because of my prompting, I was confident that Heavenly Father would help me find the right opportunity.
Weeks later, the world entered a financial crisis and unemployment rates soared. As weeks and then months passed, I began to panic. I heard heartbreaking stories of fathers and mothers losing their jobs. I was single and had no one depending on me, so I wondered if others needed and deserved employment more than me.
One night, I took my concerns to the Lord. I told Him I needed a job to take care of myself but that I could see there were families in greater need. It was as if I were imagining everyone getting in line to receive the blessings of the Lord, and because I was single, I was expected to allow families to cut in front of me.
As I prayed, the Spirit taught me that this was not what was expected of me. There is no line to get to our Heavenly Father. He invites all of His children to come to Him because “all are alike unto [Him]” (2 Nephi 26:33). The thought came very clearly to my mind that Heavenly Father is not limited by any circumstance of our world and that He will help every individual who comes to Him and Jesus Christ.
In that moment, I was reminded that there is no class system among Heavenly Father’s children. He blesses us as we choose to make and keep covenants with Him and Jesus Christ. We are all loved and important to Him, regardless of where we are on the covenant path.
Shortly after that, I was offered a job that put my career on the path it is on now.

Thank you for such a beautiful and inspirational October edition: “From First Date to Eternal Mate.” When I came home from school, the first thing I saw was the New Era. My mum had placed it on the table so I would not miss it. That day at school all 32 class members bombarded me with questions about my beliefs on dating and marriage. I explained why I’m not going to be dating until I turn 16, and why I don’t watch TV programs or movies or listen to music that is suggestive. On my way home I wondered what I could do on a date and how I should go about dating. In answer to my silent prayer, I opened the door and saw the New Era! I read it from cover to cover and deeply felt the Spirit, knowing that the things I had shared in class were true.Rachel Gordon, Oxford Ward, Reading England Stake

Our daughter Mary had an experience that taught her about making good choices. Mary was an excellent soccer player. She was in a league that played its games on Saturdays. But one year when she was in her early teens, her team kept winning and made it to the championship game, which was to be played on a Sunday. Mary knew that the Sabbath was a special day for going to church and learning about the gospel, not a day for recreation. But because she was a key player on the team, and it was the team’s first time in a championship game, Mary received a lot of pressure from her teammates, coaches, and even from other parents.
Mary was unhappy about the situation and asked us what she should do. After thinking and praying about it, my wife and I knew that our daughter was ready to take the responsibility for her own decision. We encouraged her to think about it and pray about it, and told her that we believed she should make this decision on her own.
After a few days of pressure from her friends, Mary made the decision that she would play in the championship game. But when the game ended, Mary slowly walked off the field. “Oh, Mom,” she said, “that felt awful. I never want to feel that way again! I’m never playing another game on the Sabbath day.” And she never did.
She continued to play sports in her school and her community, but she never again let pressure from these teams move her from the path she knew was right. She had learned for herself how important it was to her Heavenly Father to keep this commandment, and she never forgot this lesson.

Let me now describe the personal experience that brought the hope of the gospel into my life. I was 21 years old, and I had just finished my undergraduate degree at Cornell University. Just a week or two after graduation, I headed up to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to start graduate school at MIT. I knew no one in the Boston area. I didn’t know what to expect. I’m sure a lot of you had similar experiences as you have left your familiar surroundings and ventured out into the unknown. Those first two weekends in Cambridge were rainy and cold. I had planned on exploring the Boston area, but I was confined to my graduate dormitory room, all alone.

I had started to read some works by C.S. Lewis and his book Mere Christianity had a real impact on me. I started to ponder if I could live a true Christian life. Two desires started to form in my heart: I wanted to find a decent group of friends, and I wanted to find the truth. I didn’t know how to formally pray, but I found myself repeating a simple phrase, asking the Lord to show me the light.

It was soon after those two rainy weekends and my request for light from above that I met two missionaries, Elder Dewey Garner and Elder Bruce Meek. They were street contacting on the edge of the MIT campus. One of the missionaries asked me the inspired question, “Do you want to learn more about Jesus Christ?” Yes, I did. That was one of the desires of my heart.

I agreed to receive the missionary discussions. I started attending a student ward and found the decent group of friends that I was looking for. The plan of salvation made so much sense to me and it answered the questions I had about the purpose of life. When I learned about the First Vision, I had no doubts that it was true. I had a very special experience as I started reading the Book of Mormon and gained a testimony of its truthfulness.

Most important of all, I came to know Jesus Christ in a way that I had never known Him. His Atonement became very real to me as I repented. As a result, my heart changed. My thinking changed. I became a new person, a better person. The student ID on the left shows what I looked like when the missionaries met me. I admire the courage they had to stop and talk to me. The photo on the right was taken 18 months later in the MTC. My appearance, countenance, and circumstances were all vastly different. This is how hope and happiness came into my life. The great changes that occurred in my life are part of the sure evidence that I have that the gospel of Jesus Christ is true and that this is His Church upon the earth.

In last week’s devotional, Brother Jan E. Newman talked about the special places in our lives. Cambridge is such a special place to me because it was there that I came to know my Redeemer. I also had special friends added to my life, especially the two missionaries who shared the gospel with me. I have treasured their friendship over the years and I’m thankful to have Dewey Garner and his wife, Denise, here on the stand today.

Caleb slid out of his bed to greet another golden autumn morning. His big brother, James, was already outside working, probably helping Pa mend fences. When he heard his mother fixing breakfast in the room below, Caleb hurried to dress. But where was his favorite brown wool shirt?
He dug through the blankets, then searched under the bed. No shirt. So he just pulled on his pants and shoes and climbed down the ladder from the loft.
“I can’t find my brown shirt,” Caleb told his mother.
Ma looked up and smiled. “That shirt was getting so worn out that I made you a new one. Here, try it on.”
Caleb took the shirt from his mother and examined it closely. It didn’t have as many thin places as his old one, and no buttons were missing. But something was familiar about it. Quickly Caleb slipped on the shirt, buttoned it up to his chin, then huddled close to the stone fireplace to warm himself. He didn’t say anything to Ma, but he knew that James used to wear this shirt. Ma had cut it up and made the shirt smaller. Caleb couldn’t remember, but he suspected that Pa had worn the shirt before that, just as he had the old brown one.
After breakfast, Caleb kept so busy with his chores that he forgot all about his comfortable old brown shirt. At the end of the day, while Caleb’s sister, Dorcas, washed the supper dishes, Ma brought out her scrap bag. One by one she pulled colorful pieces of cloth from it. They fluttered down noiselessly, covering the wooden floor like a rainbow. Caleb watched with wonder.
Because women in the frontier settlement traded fabric swatches, some of the bright pieces in Ma’s scrap bag had once belonged to the neighbors. Caleb recognized nearly every scrap. One strip was from a petticoat that Dorcas had outgrown. Another piece came from James’s old black Sunday trousers. Caleb spotted parts from Grandpa’s winter coat and a few inches of his friend Willy’s knit cap. On top of the pile lay Caleb’s favorite brown wool shirt.
Ma announced, “I’m going to make a quilt.”
Caleb had already figured that out. Often when Ma sorted through her scrap bag, she had a patchwork quilt in mind. So he wasn’t surprised to see her cut his old brown shirt into several pieces. In fact, Caleb expected the shirt he was wearing to be cut up for a quilt when it was worn out and too small for him.
Night after night, when the day’s farm work was done, Ma and Dorcas sat by the fire, sewing the cloth pieces together. Moving smoothly, Ma’s practiced hand worked the needle in and out in tiny, even stitches. Every scrap was precious.
“Isn’t this one too small, Ma?” Caleb asked, picking up a little square of flowered cotton.
“No piece is too small, Caleb,” Ma assured him. “We’ll need every one.”
One afternoon Caleb came in from feeding the chickens to find Ma in her rocking chair with the patchwork pieces.
“This gives me a chance to sit down,” she told him, “while still keeping my hands busy.”
Caleb gently fingered an odd-shaped piece of Grandpa’s green winter coat. In his imagination, it still smelled of smoke from the campfires Grandpa used to build on his hunting trips. Last fall, when Caleb turned seven, he was allowed to go with Grandpa and Pa and James to hunt for food for the winter. Rubbing the green wool against his cheek now reminded Caleb of Grandpa and his stories around the campfire. He was glad that his mother had saved the old coat. Caleb watched her fit a piece of it into the patchwork quilt top.
“Who are you making the quilt for, Ma?” Caleb asked.
“Someone special.”
As soon as the quilt top was finished, Pa and James set up the heavy wooden frames. Dorcas helped Ma tack the backing of the quilt to the frames. It was a piece of coarse homespun cloth Aunt Polly had made—a bright strawberry red that made Caleb think of summer. Ma and Dorcas pinned the thick wool batting to the cloth. Finally they spread out the patchwork top and stretched it over the batting.
Caleb stood back and gazed at the quilt top. It was a wonderful kaleidoscope of patches, all sizes and shapes, fitted together with neat little stitches. In the center, Ma had sewn a square of brown wool cut from Caleb’s shirt. He knew what came next: a quilting bee!
Aunt Polly and several ladies from neighboring homesteads gathered to help Ma sew the three layers of the quilt together. Sitting around the frame, the ladies chatted as they worked their needles up and down through the layers of fabric. Caleb and his friend Willy crawled under the quilt and watched the thread make a fine white trail all across the red backing.
Every time a needle ran out, the boys rushed to thread it. By the end of the day, when the sewing was done, Caleb and Willy had each earned a shiny penny for keeping the ladies’ needles threaded.
It was almost dark when Willy and his mother and the other women rode off for home. Then, with Pa’s help, Ma carefully removed the quilt from the frames. “Tomorrow I’ll bind the edges,” she said.
When Caleb scurried down from the loft the next morning, Ma was already sitting in her rocking chair, with the quilt overflowing her lap. Caleb settled on the floor next to Dorcas, who, like Ma, was folding under the edges of the backing and the top and stitching them neatly together.
“Can I help?” Caleb asked.
Ma smiled at him as she patiently worked her fine little stitches. “How about your chores, Caleb?”
Caleb went outside to help James stack the wood Pa had cut. As he worked, the boy thought about the quilt. Its large and small patches of red, blue, and green, some plain, some fancy, reminded him of Grandpa, Ma and Pa, James and Dorcas, Aunt Polly, and all the neighbors. He thought of his own brown wool square in the center. “We will need every patch,” Ma had told him.
That night when Caleb climbed up to his bedroom loft, Ma was waiting to tuck him in bed under the new quilt. “I told you I was making this quilt for someone special,” she said, kissing him good night.
Caleb wrapped himself in the quilt with its comfortable old patches and smiled.

Sid told me of an experience he had on his mission. It was evening, and he and his companion were just about to return to their apartment. They decided to visit one more family. The father let them in. Elder Going and his companion testified of the Savior. The family accepted a Book of Mormon. The father read all night. In the next week and a half he read the entire Book of Mormon, the Doctrine and Covenants, and the Pearl of Great Price. A few weeks later the family was baptized.

A few months later, I felt encouraged when I opened a Church magazine and found a Mormon Message: “No matter what your past has been, you have a spotless future” (Tambuli, September 1989, 47). But still I was so depressed and full of anger that one day I decided to try to be happy by living my life the world’s way. That very day I had an experience that changed my life. I felt as if something or somebody touched me on the shoulder. I looked back, and nobody was there. I felt a little bit afraid. A little while later, I felt the same thing again, but this time the force on my shoulder was so powerful that I fell to my knees. I began to cry. For the first time in years, I prayed. I don’t know how much time I spent on my knees, but I eventually fell asleep. When I woke up, my mother asked what had happened. I told her I felt as though I had been asleep all my life and had only now opened my eyes.
I found the Book of Mormon and began to read. When I finished reading, I prayed with all my heart. I felt a warmth in my heart and a burning in my chest.
My life turned around. I began to pray, fast, bear my testimony, preach the gospel to my coworkers, pay tithing, and read and study the holy scriptures. I felt happy and close to my Heavenly Father. One day I talked to my branch president about serving a mission, and he eventually sent in my mission papers.
The members of my district were happy when they learned I had received a call to the México Chihuahua Mission. Some people were amazed.
The last Sunday before leaving on my mission, I bore my testimony. I said that everybody can change. Alma the Younger changed; the sons of King Mosiah changed; Zeezrom changed; Paul changed; and I changed.
While serving my full-time mission I witnessed the power of love and had the privilege of bringing souls to our Heavenly Father.
After returning, I married Erika Mendoza in the Dallas Texas Temple. We are both busily involved in callings in Sunday School and Young Women.
Whenever I see a picture of Peter walking over the water to reach Jesus but falling into the deep sea, I put myself in Peter’s place (see Matt. 14:22–33). Sometimes I feel myself faltering, and I pray that—just as he did for Peter—the Lord will reach out his hand to catch me so that I can keep walking toward him.
I will never forget what the Lord has done for me in healing my soul. I know he loves all of his children, and I’m grateful knowing that no matter what our pasts have been, our futures are spotless.

Adopt a horse? That’s what 16-year-old Rob Wickham of the Medford First Ward, Medford Oregon Stake, did. Rob heard a television newscast from the Bureau of Land Management about adopting wild horses, and with his parents’ approval, he applied for a horse. A year later, he was told that a horse he might like was available. Though he didn’t have to pay for the horse (since it was wild, and the BLM program was created to find a humane way to alleviate overpopulation of wild horses on public lands), Rob is solely responsible for the feeding and upkeep of the horse. This summer he’s found a job on a ranch not far from his home, and he’ll be staying at the ranch—along with his horse Blackie, a spirited friend who loves to run, follow Rob around, and who now comes when Rob whistles for him.

A little while ago, my bishop invited our ward to think of some weakness or sin that we could figuratively leave at the sacrament table for Jesus Christ to take away. There are sins I’ve carried with me throughout my young adult life that I’ve tried to conquer but haven’t been able to overcome through prayer or my own willpower. Despite my growth throughout the years, I knew I needed to overcome them to continue progressing.
The Sunday after the bishop’s challenge, I decided that I would leave just one of my sins on the sacrament table, a physical representation of the Savior and His atoning sacrifice. As I prepared to take the sacrament, I remembered that the cloth covering it represented His burial cloth, and the bread and water represented His body and blood.
With sincerity and full purpose of heart, I renewed my baptismal covenants and said a prayer in my heart, asking Heavenly Father for help and making a commitment to leave this sin behind. Then something happened I never expected: my desire to sin completely left. I tried this a few more times, and the same thing happened with other sins. Was it too good to be true?
The next week, I knew what sin I wanted to leave at the sacrament table, but I didn’t feel ready to give it up. Looking back, I realize that my heart wasn’t in the place it needed to be. I wasn’t being sincere enough to commit to change. But I realized how much the sin hurt Heavenly Father. I knew I needed to align my will with His and center my life around Him to become free. So I did my best to make that a reality.
I avoided any temptation that could lead to this sin. I changed the way I read my scriptures every day and truly pondered them and applied them to my life. I focused on being sincere in my commitment to change, and I sought every day to seek the Lord’s will over mine. I put Him first, because I knew I couldn’t leave this sin behind without the power of the Savior’s Atonement. By continuing to put Him first, I was able to surrender this sin at the sacrament table. I was finally free from something that had held me back for so many years.
Through this process, I grew closer to my Heavenly Father and my Savior. I imagined Them looking down on me for all of these years with patience and love—knowing, eventually, I would give up the sins that spiritually hampered my progress. And when I was ready to give them up, Jesus Christ would be there to lift me—to take me by the hand and grant me forgiveness and strength. He already provided a way for me to become free from my sins through His Atonement. He paid the price for my weaknesses, mistakes, and sins. I just needed to trust Him.
During this time, I read some words from Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles that gave me the little push I needed: “If your life is in disarray and you feel uncomfortable and unworthy … , don’t worry. He already knows about all of that. He is waiting for you to kneel in humility and take the first few steps. Pray for strength. . . . Pray that the love of the Savior will pour into your heart.”1
When we sang “I Stand All Amazed” (my favorite hymn) the next week, each word rang true; I really was amazed—in awe that the things I had struggled with for more than a decade were taken from me. In awe that through the power of the Savior’s Atonement, I could move forward. That He can heal all sins and wounds and leave no trace of them behind. That I didn’t need to be held back by my past.
I still have so much to learn and overcome, but my life is on an upward course. I’m feeling more joy and peace. I’m expressing more gratitude. I’m coming closer to and strengthening my testimony of Heavenly Father and the Savior. Every day that I choose to try again, I come one step closer to Them and the person They know I can be.

Soon after leaving Ceylon the Retribution struck an uncharted coral reef that splintered the bottom of the ship. To block the dangerous leak, “we stretched a large tarpaulin under the ship and over the hole,” then they steamed full speed for port. But while the vessel was in British dry dock at Bombay for repairs for three months, the crew caught cholera. “I was taken with it,” William noted, “and taken to the hospital ship. I prayed to the Lord to spare me.” He recovered and then helped nurse others among the stricken crew.

I once read a story about a place called the Cave of Truth. A group of students heard about it. The name intrigued them because they yearned for truth. They inquired about its location, obtained a map, and then set out in search of the cave. After a long and difficult journey they arrived at a deep cavern near the top of a high mountain.
At the entrance sat an old man guarding the way. They approached him and asked if this was the place they had heard about--if it really was the Cave of Truth. He assured them that it was. They asked if they could go in. "Of course," he said, "But first I need to know how deeply into the cave you want to go?" At this question they withdrew and had a discussion among themselves. Then they returned and said, "Well, we would like to enter and go in at least far enough that we can say we have been here."
So it was with Naaman. He heard of a prophet in Israel who could heal. After a long and difficult journey from Syria to Samaria he came and stood at Elisha's door. He was prepared to pay ten talents of silver and six thousand pieces of gold to be healed (or for truth as it were). But when the prophet sent a servant to instruct him what to do he became angry and "turned and went away."[1]
Similarly, Moses invited the children of Israel to know God. But they hardened their hearts and chose to not accept the higher law and the truth associated with it.[2]
Jesus asked the multitude mourning the death of the daughter of Jairus to believe. "They laughed him to scorn." So he put them all out and only Peter, James and John, and the girl's believing parents were privileged to see her raised from the dead. Those outside were unaware of what occurred within.[3]
And once the prophet Joseph called Sidney Rigdon and Parley P. Pratt to help him recruit "the young and the middle aged" to be part of the Zion Camp march. After the recruiting was over, Parley joined Joseph in the march to Missouri. Sidney didn't. He chose not to go. He missed out on the truth and testimony that he could have had and his decision would haunt him forever.[4]
And so it is with you. There is so much accumulated wisdom at this university. It is a great repository of truth. You are in constant contact with wonderful teachers who know the gospel well. You are so surrounded by excellence and knowledge that you probably take them for granted. But how far into the cave do you want to go?