Gospel Story Finder

The next series is long, but I have included it for two good reasons: first, we can learn much about life from someone who has faced death, and second, we can learn about writing journal entries from someone who does it so well. Because Bonnie has given us both event and feeling in her journal, we respond.
“October 12, 1974. Although I didn’t talk directly to them [her parents], the news I heard shocked me. … They were at Sunshine Terrace with my grandpa who had suffered a stroke. … He was in a coma and was partially paralyzed. I really didn’t think about death then, because Gramps had suffered from two strokes before, and I thought he would come out of it.
“Just the same, I think I felt the pain of death. For a split second I pictured a funeral, the viewing, the lines, the people, and a coffin. I quickly erased the thought from my mind, wiped the tears from my eyes, and tried to think of better things.”
“October 16, 1974. Chris [a sister who lives next door to her at school] and I called home today. We couldn’t wait any longer. Mom had just gotten back from Sunshine Terrace when the phone rang. Grandpa was getting steadily worse, and they didn’t see how he made it through the day. He was gasping for each breath, and his hands were turning blue. … The family had gathered that afternoon and had a prayer.”
“October 17, 1974. My Grandpa died last night. It seems strange to write those words, because the full impact hasn’t hit me yet. It was his birthday the day before—77 years old. … The viewing is tomorrow night, and we are planning on leaving right after classes. … I don’t think I see my grandfather gone yet, but when the time comes to seal the coffin and tell him goodbye, I will know. I am so afraid.”
“October 19, 1974. People kept pouring in, most of them elderly. Some had to be assisted in, and others hobbled in on their own. My Grandpa’s brother seemed to be taking it the hardest. He walked over to the coffin and laid his hand on Grandpa’s chest. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he bade farewell to his last living brother. He reminded me so much of Grandpa, it nearly killed me to look at him. His stiff, assured walk and the way he carried himself—the resemblance spoke for itself. …
“It was almost over. Tears fell freely, and as the mortician sealed the casket, I realized that I would not see him in the years ahead. I didn’t want to believe it. As they wheeled the casket into the chapel, I wanted to scream, ‘Bring him back,’ but the lump in my throat allowed barely enough room to breathe. …”
“October 20, 1974. Along the way back to school was the Lewiston Cemetery, so we decided to stop one more time. … We parked the car and hurriedly headed toward the grave. Leaves crackled under our feet and a slight breeze tossed others around. … As I walked around the grave my eyes spotted the temporary marker. ‘Hyrum Sidney Karren, Born October 16, 1897; Died October 17, 1974. …’ I’m beginning to understand a little better now about life and death. …”
“October 23, 1974. I’m getting over the shock of Grandpa’s death now, and only when I think too deeply does it become a reality again.
“What a week! I’ve never had so many tests in my whole life, and all at one time. … So ends another week of mid-terms, and school must go on.”
Bonnie MeyerSmithfield, Utah
She might have added, “and so must life,” for that is the understanding she comes to, and her journal captures that feeling.

By the time Annapurna graduated from college at age 20, her parents had begun planning a traditional arranged marriage for their beloved daughter. But Annapurna never considered her dreams to be unattainable because she felt that they were not hers alone. “I had big dreams,” she says, “but actually God had His own plans for me.”
When Annapurna was 21, those divine plans started to become reality—miracle by miracle. First, she met Santosh Murala, a faithful Latter-day Saint visiting his family in Hyderabad. A medical student, Santosh was doing a surgical residency in Chandigarh, two days away by train. When they met, Annapurna and Santosh talked for half an hour. After that brief conversation, Santosh called his friend Neil Twitchell, who was then serving as India Bangalore Mission president, and confided, “She’s gold!” Santosh felt quite clearly that this was the woman he had been looking for. Annapurna felt that Santosh—the first Latter-day Saint young man she had ever met—was the man she had been praying to find.
The two exchanged a few letters, confirming their feelings. Several months later they married. Understandably, Annapurna’s family was upset at first, as was Santosh’s. But Annapurna was legally old enough to marry a man of her choosing.
Annapurna viewed this situation through the eyes of faith. “If I had married to please my parents and other people,” she says, “then my children might never have known about the Church and the whole responsibility for that would have been on my head. This one step has changed life for me and my posterity. For this life my parents may be upset with me, but for eternity they will be happy and proud of me.” In fact, Annapurna’s parents are already more accepting of her marriage. They like Santosh and even get together socially with Santosh’s parents.

December was spent meeting people, primarily through asking about rooms to rent, even if they did not need one. “We made a good many friends,” they reported.
In January 1884 they began to hold small meetings in homes, mainly at the home of a widow named Mahrburg. But then “the adversary began to wake up,” said Elder Biesinger, and their contacts started to shun them. Mrs. Mahrburg was warned by the police that if she permitted Mormons to hold another meeting in her house she would be prosecuted and the missionaries arrested. But police activity did not prevent the two elders from holding a baptismal service in the Simmering Canal on February 2 for P. Chalewa, a native of Poland, and Josephine Jellinek, an Austrian. This brought Church membership in Austria to three, Elder Hammer having baptized Paul Haslinger of Lambach on November 25 before joining Elder Biesinger.

Being in high school can make living the gospel pretty difficult; at least, it seemed that way to me. There were very few members at my school, and I just didn’t seem to get along with them very well. The group of friends that I usually hung out with was far from “the right kind of friends,” but I really seemed to get along with them.
Soon, I started to fall away from the gospel and my Heavenly Father. I stopped attending church and Mutual activities and started using bad language. I eventually realized that I needed to change—I needed to become the kind of young woman Heavenly Father wants me to be. But I doubted that I could actually be forgiven for turning my back on the gospel and on Heavenly Father.
Then I remembered the story about the adulteress from John 8; she had committed one of the worst sins possible, but Christ invited her to repent. I realized that if repentance and forgiveness were possible for her, then I could also repent and be forgiven. That night I knelt down and prayed—for the first time in a long time—asking for Heavenly Father to forgive me. I was immediately wrapped in warmth.
I know now that repentance is possible. Satan will constantly try to make us believe that we can’t be forgiven, but I know from personal experience that this is wrong. Repentance can be incredibly difficult, but Heavenly Father loves us and wants us to return to Him. He wants us to be the best we can be, and He will do anything He can to help us if we let Him into our lives.

For instance, I was speaking to the missionaries at the Language Training Mission, when I suddenly felt impressed to testify of the intrinsic worth of each person there. There was no need to compare oneself with another, that the Lord knew and loved each one as a separate person and had special guidance and power to give in helping each one move on to the next step, etc., etc. Afterwards, several asked me to bear that exact testimony again and to give more explanation, almost as if they desperately wanted to believe it. One was almost overcome with a feeling of relief and joy.

By the time he was 14 years old, an acquaintance of mine was more than six feet tall and very uncoordinated. He said, “One afternoon when I was in a 10th-grade seminary class, the Spirit really touched me. I came to know that the gospel literally was true. I made up my mind that day that I wanted to serve the Lord in any way I could.”
By his senior year, he was taller and much more coordinated. Many universities offered him scholarships to play basketball. After his first year playing at a university, he told his coach that he would like to be excused for two years to go on a mission. The coach said, “If you leave, you can be sure of one thing: you will never again wear one of our basketball uniforms!” Many thought that his “mission” ought to be playing basketball. Even some family members, including his parents, tried to convince him not to serve a mission. But he was totally committed. He was willing to give everything to the Lord—the scholarship, the applause of the fans, and the excitement of playing. He knew what the Lord was counting on him to do. He was called, and he served an honorable mission.
When he returned two years later, he was even taller and about 35 pounds heavier. His coach decided to repent. He was permitted to wear one of those basketball uniforms again, and in his senior year, his team not only won the conference championship but went on to the finals in national competition.

After moving to Nauvoo, Illinois, Joseph and Emma Smith built the Red Brick Store. It served as Joseph’s office and as a business to support his family.
I’ll take 20 pounds of flour, Emma.
Do you need anything else?
James had recently moved from England to Nauvoo with his sister and her husband, Henry. James was not a member of the Church.
We’ve searched for work all day, Henry. I don’t think we’re going to find anything.
Let’s ask the Prophet for help.
James had never met Joseph Smith or been near him before. He felt an overwhelming spirit just by looking at him.
He is truly a prophet of the Most High God.
Brethren, how can I help you today?
Mr. Smith, have you any employment?
Can you make a ditch?
We’ll do our best.
Joseph took the men a little way from the store and stretched out a measuring tape.
Can you make a ditch three feet wide and two and a half feet deep along this line?
When they finished the ditch, they called Joseph out to inspect it.
I could not have done better myself. Come with me.
Joseph gave the men two of his largest and best pieces of meat and two sacks of flour.
This is too much, Joseph.
We’ll do more work for it.
If you are satisfied, boys, I am.
Because of this encounter with the Prophet’s kindness and because of other experiences in which he felt Joseph’s power from God, James learned the gospel and was baptized and confirmed later that year.

I can testify of the joy and spiritual power that comes from being a missionary, because some of the most memorable experiences in my life are a result of this glorious work. I remember visiting with a young lady in a shopping mall in Arizona one day who was weeping because of the death of her husband. I suggested to her that there is a way that she could be with her husband for time and for all eternity. She was concerned and asked about it; I enlisted the help of our missionaries to teach her.

Several weeks later, while visiting in that same community, I went to her home with the stake president, was invited in, and walked to a piano where sat a beautiful picture of her and her husband Bob and their three lovely sons. This time she was weeping for joy as she pointed to the picture and indicated that on the morrow she would be baptized into the Church. Then, holding onto my hand tightly, she said, “Just think, Brother Goaslind—in one year from tomorrow we can be an eternal family.” There is nothing that brings greater joy than doing missionary work in the kingdom.

One Sunday in the summer of 2002, I woke up thinking of my mother, who had recently passed away. I was visiting my old home ward in Pacific Palisades, California, USA, where my mom had worshipped for almost 50 years.
I knelt in prayer to tell the Lord how much I missed her and to ask for a spiritual experience that day.
That afternoon I planned to attend the rededication broadcast of the Nauvoo Illinois Temple at the stake building in Santa Monica, California. Unfortunately, I arrived too late to be admitted to the session. I returned to my car and headed back onto the freeway.
As I drove, I heard a voice say, “Randi, go check on Mary!” Mary is a dear friend of our family and a devout member of another faith. She and her daughter Natasha lived next door to my Aunt Ruby for more than 25 years. Because they had no family nearby, they became part of ours. After my aunt passed away in 1984, my mother often dropped by to visit Mary, always bringing a small gift or something she had baked.
At first I ignored the prompting. I couldn’t just drop in unannounced, and I didn’t have my cell phone to call her. Suddenly the voice came again, louder this time: “Randi, go check on Mary!” This time I heeded the counsel, although I barely had enough time to make my exit off the freeway.
When I arrived at Mary’s, she greeted me but looked ill. I could tell she had been crying. I asked her what was wrong. She responded that she had been quite sick and in pain from a neck injury. Also, she was extremely low on food. She said she had been too ill to walk to the pharmacy or the market.
When I asked her why she hadn’t called someone in our family, she said, “I prayed and asked Heavenly Father to send someone to help me.”
I told her that Heavenly Father had heard her prayers and sent me. We hugged, and then she told me something I’ll never forget. She said, “When you arrived on my doorstep, I saw your mother’s face, not yours.”
I immediately felt my mother’s sweet spirit near me, and I felt prompted to serve just as my mother would serve. Her life, after all, was filled with serving others.
I hope that I never forget the importance of heeding the voice of the Spirit and the example my mother set for me of serving others.

I saw the results of another great teacher while serving as the president of a single adult stake at BYU–Idaho. That experience changed my life. On one particular Tuesday evening, I interviewed a young man named Pablo, from Mexico City, who wanted to serve a mission. I asked him about his testimony and his desire to serve. His answers to my questions were perfect. Then I asked about his worthiness. His answers were exact. In fact, they were so good, I wondered, “Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m asking him.” So I rephrased the questions and determined that he knew exactly what I meant and was completely honest.

I was so impressed with this young man that I asked him, “Pablo, who was it that helped you come to this point in your life standing so uprightly before the Lord?”

He said, “My dad.”

I said, “Pablo, tell me your story.”

Pablo continued: “When I was nine, my dad took me aside and said, ‘Pablo, I was nine once too. Here are some things you may come across. You’ll see people cheating in school. You might be around people who swear. You’ll probably have days when you don’t want to go to church. Now, when these things happen—or anything else that troubles you—I want you to come and talk to me, and I’ll help you get through them. And then I’ll tell you what comes next.’”

“So, Pablo, what did he tell you when you were 10?”

“Well, he warned me about pornography and dirty jokes.”

“What about when you were 11?” I asked.

“He cautioned me about things that could be addictive and reminded me about using my agency.”

Here was a father, year after year, “line upon line; here a little, and there a little,” who helped his son not only hear but also understand. Pablo’s father knew our children learn when they are ready to learn, not just when we are ready to teach them. I was proud of Pablo when we submitted his missionary application that night, but I was even prouder of Pablo’s dad.

When you are 12 years old, life is hard enough. Caught between being a child and being a teenager, you struggle to really know who you are. I was in the middle of that struggle when my parents announced we were moving to the small town over the hill. The move was only a few miles away, but to me it was a world away.
I grew up in a suburban town of 30,000. I walked to school. The playground and the youth center were a block from home. And I went to the movies every Saturday.
Our new home was different. It was a rural town of 6,000—and planned to stay that way. I was a mile and a half (2.4 km) from school and had to ride the bus. My playground would become the woods and hills nearby. Saturday matinees would become only an occasional treat.
The move itself wasn’t so bad. I was adventurous and loved exploring. But I had a hard time fitting in at school. The other students had all grown up together, and I was the outsider. To make matters worse, I didn’t hide my emotions and was an easy target for bullies.
One of the biggest bullies I had to deal with was Tracy. That wouldn’t have been so bad, except Tracy is a girl.
I had dealt with boy bullies before. You either faced them or learned to avoid them. But Tracy seemed to be everywhere: in the hall, at lunch, in my classes. She had a way with insults that just chopped you to pieces. I dreaded seeing her anywhere.
Since it seemed I couldn’t avoid her, I had to face her, but I didn’t know how. A talk I heard at church changed all that. I don’t remember who was speaking, but I remember what was said. The speaker was talking about dealing with difficult people. He said, “If you can’t beat them, try loving them to death.” He got a laugh out of the congregation, but I thought about it for some time. I finally decided what to do with Tracy. I would “smother her with kindness.”
I started looking for Tracy the next day. When I saw her, I said, “Tracy, you look nice.” She looked shocked and stammered a thank you as we passed in the hall. I kept it up. Every time I saw her, I would pay her a compliment before she had a chance to say anything. The insults stopped, and my life gained a little peace.
A few months later, the school year was coming to a close. One of the closing activities was a dance in the gym during school hours. I went to it but didn’t feel like asking any girls to dance. Frankly, I had never asked a girl before. But then a girl came up to me and asked me to dance.
I was shocked to see that it was Tracy. I said yes, and we went out onto the floor. When the song was over, I said, “Thank you,” and Tracy went on her way.
I never did see her again. She moved somewhere else that summer. I hope she fit in at her new school more easily than I had. But I learned that day that my plan had worked. Where I had an enemy, I found a friend.

Our school baseball team has had a wonderful season. I am pitching for the team, and we are undefeated. I am the only Mormon on the team, and I have several of the boys plus the coach interested in the Church. They often ask me questions about the Church, and I do my best to answer them. Because of the number of playoffs, the final game determining the league championship will be held this Sunday. The winner of the game is sent to the state championship. We have been working all season for this next meet, and I found out too late that this one game is to be played on the Sabbath, so there is no replacement for me in the pitching position. I don’t know what to do because if I don’t play the team will not only lose the game and hence the state championship, but they will also lose all interest in the Church!
“A few years ago, BYU was playing in a basketball tournament on the east coast. Because of bad weather, games had to be cancelled and rescheduled on a Sunday. The team wired Salt Lake City to ask for counsel on whether or not they should play on Sunday. The counsel from the General Authorities was no.
“The boy in the situation said that many members of the baseball team were interested in the Church. It would be best for them to see someone who puts the Lord first. We must remember that the Lord cannot bless us if we don’t keep the commandments. What the Lord thinks should guide our decisions, not what others think. Keep the commandments and don’t play.”
Elder Ric WilcoxGeorgia-South Carolina Mission
“What this young man should ask himself is how interested his teammates would be in the Church if he did play on Sunday and thus proved that the principles in which he claims to believe are not important to him. Would his friends be interested in a church that could not, in a real test, hold up as this young man’s guiding standard?”
Teresa D. BickleyTacoma, Washington
“In this situation I would feel a need to kneel and discuss with my Heavenly Father his solution to my problem.
“First Nephi 3:7 states: ‘I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commandeth them.’ (1 Ne. 3:7) The Lord has given us the commandment to keep the Sabbath day holy by partaking of the sacrament and thus renewing our covenants with him.
“I’ve discovered that nonmember friends are influenced most by example. If you allow yourself to break one of your Heavenly Father’s commandments, just this once, you may never be able to convince those interested in the Church that the gospel is true.
“Be a ruler of circumstances; don’t let circumstances rule you.”
Joanne StephensonRiverside, California
“We’ve been put on this earth to be tested and prove ourselves worthy to return to our Heavenly Father. Many times it is difficult to know exactly which way to turn, and which way will be best for others as well as ourselves. However, we’ve been told many times never to compromise and never to give in to the things of the world. So I think the boy should stand up for what our church believes and not play that game on Sunday. And when his teammates see him do that, they will admire him and our church. They’ll get the idea that our church really has something to it, and most likely they’ll investigate it.
“At the time the boy tells the team, they may hate him and make fun of him, but he should take it well, and in time his reward will come. Remember what the Lord promised Joseph Smith in his difficult times: ‘And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, 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?
“‘Therefore, hold on thy way, and the priesthood shall remain with thee; for their bounds are set, they cannot pass. Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever.’ (D&C 122: 7–9.)
“And that is quite a promise, so the boy should make his stand and do what’s best for the Church, his teammates, and especially for himself.”
Darrell BackSalt Lake City, Utah
“If he does play the Sunday game, his teammates may not lose interest in the Church, but is he going to explain to them that the principles of the Church are the most important things in members’ lives except for the commandment about keeping the Sabbath?
“If this boy could get together with his teammates and explain his principles to them and get the whole team on his side, then they could probably get the game rescheduled. This way the team’s interest in the Church might be increased, and they would have greater respect for the principles of the gospel.”
Corey Christensen, Kay Adamson, Tonya Allen, Lisa Poulsen, Marva Ashton, Dennis Huggard, Lisa Hartshorn, LoRee Johnson, Steve Broadbent, Dave DortonLehi, Utah

A year earlier, everything had been in place for the journey. Both of the parents and all eight children living at home had worked hard to earn and save enough money. (The oldest son was married and had moved from home; another son had died.) Brother Paronda and his boys raised and sold corn, rice, potatoes, melons, and bananas. Sister Paronda and the three daughters tended their sari-sari store (a small neighborhood retail store where they sell “a little bit of everything”). And the older sons took turns driving the family’s jeepney (a small passenger bus) to earn extra money. Then, when all the preparations had been made, Brother and Sister Paronda and the eight children had received temple recommends.

But just before they were to leave for Manila, their jeepney was in an accident, and two passengers were seriously injured. The jeepney was not insured, and the family’s temple fund was depleted as Brother Paronda paid for medical treatments, including hospitalization, for the injured passengers. The temple trip had to be postponed.

“Sometimes in the world we encounter a lot of problems,” says daughter Marilyn. “But whatever hardship or persecution we encounter, we can live happily by obeying what the Lord asks us to do. Nothing is impossible with the Lord if we have faith that he will help us.”

Eleven months after the jeepney accident, they had finally saved enough money again to make the trip. Then the typhoon hit! Their home and store were spared, but their crops were destroyed. Streets were flooded, and travel was impossible.

Surrounded by chaos, they still felt that their most urgent need was to get to the temple immediately. “We were in a hurry to be sealed,” explains Brother Paronda. Unfortunately, in only two or three days the temple would close for several weeks.

Finally, during the night at the height of the storm, the family knelt in prayer. “We asked the Lord to stop the storm so we could go,” says Brother Paronda. “Heavenly Father answered our prayer. The storm stopped during the night, and we had good weather for our journey.”

The next day, they rented a jeepney (their own was still not in running condition), and Brother and Sister Paronda and the eight children crowded inside for the fifteen-hour trip. After driving through the night, they arrived at the temple the day before it was to close. Immediately they changed into white clothes, and everyone who was old enough (father, mother, and six children) received the temple endowment.

Then the parents were sealed to each other, and the children were sealed to them—including their son Alan who had died twelve years earlier as an eight-month-old baby. “Even though Alan isn’t living with us at this time,” says Marilyn, “we know that someday we will be together again. He is still a part of our family.”

“I am so grateful,” says Sister Nelly Paronda, “that my whole family can now be together forever.”

When they left the temple that day, it was late. And they had had no rest from their journey. “But we did not feel tired or hungry,” says Marilyn. “We felt very happy that the Lord had answered our prayers.”

The following day, they attended the temple again. Later, the oldest son, Noel, was sealed in the temple with his wife and children. And family members have returned to do ordinance work for grandparents and great-grandparents.

Brother Paronda was the first Filipino to serve as president of the Goa Branch. He is currently serving as the first Philippine president of the Goa District. Looking back, he puts the jeepney accident and the typhoon into perspective: “They were trials and challenges to prove how faithful we would be.”

When I was young, my father was often away from home because of a serious alcohol problem. My mother had to work full-time to support us, and I began to do many of the household chores for her.
Mother taught me how to scrub floors and how to wash clothes in an old washer. In those days we had to put the clothes through a wringer on the washer, and we had to be careful that we didn’t get our fingers caught, because it could do a great deal of damage. We always washed and rinsed the clothes twice. When I hung them out to dry, I hoped that they would be as white as the neighbor’s wash.
Mother was not a member of the LDS Church at that time, and she let us decide whether or not we went to church. I made the decision to go. I ironed all my clothing and shined my shoes to prepare for Sunday.
When I was about 11 years old, many of Mother’s relatives came from out of town to have dinner with us one Saturday night. Such visits were rare, so she spent the whole day getting the dinner ready. She prepared a pot roast and all the vegetables to go with it, mashed potatoes and gravy, salads, hot rolls, and dessert. She cooked all day, and soon the dirty dishes started stacking up.
After dinner, everyone brought the leftover food to the kitchen, then went into the living room and began to visit. I remember going back to the kitchen, thinking, Mother works all week long, and now she’ll have to do the dishes late at night after everyone leaves. Then I thought, I’ll do the dishes for her.
In those days, we didn’t have a dishwasher; the dishwasher was either me or someone else. I filled up the sink and started washing. I stood there for three hours, washing every dish—and I learned that when dishes or pans are dirty, it’s best to clean them immediately, before the food hardens!
Finally I finished drying the last dish, wiping off all the counters, and scrubbing the floor. I heard the relatives walking out onto the porch, and I heard Mother bidding them good-bye.
The kitchen door swung open, and Mother entered. She stopped and looked around and then looked at me. I cannot describe the look on her face. I think that at first it was shock, then appreciation, and then I think it was more than that. It was a feeling of love and pride, and of something I couldn’t measure. I think you understand. There was a light in her eyes. I made the decision then that I would like to always put that kind of light into people’s faces.
Mother hugged me and thanked me, and I went to bed contented and happy, knowing that she wouldn’t have to stand there doing dishes until two o’clock the next morning.
I learned that serving family members is one of the most Christlike things we can do. It’s easy to be kind to people outside of our homes—we would probably never offend them. Yet we shouldn’t offend the people in our own homes either. We ought to love, appreciate, and serve them the most.

As I spoke in general conference 25 years ago, I introduced a visual aid who stood beside me. It was my eldest grandson. He had recently received the Aaronic Priesthood and been ordained a deacon. I took the opportunity on that occasion to address my remarks to him on the importance of receiving the Aaronic Priesthood.
I said to my grandson:
“I am not overly pleased with worldly conditions that you and other young men are inheriting as you assume your role in moving toward manhood. While those of us who are older have been of an age and position to influence the world, I believe we’ve greatly failed you in what we have allowed the conditions in the world to become. This places you in a position where many of those with whom you must associate have not been reared with an understanding of or respect for traditional values. Thus, peer pressure becomes much more difficult and extreme.
“We have brought into our homes radios, record players, and television sets. While each has the potential of providing wholesome entertainment, so much of what has been produced for our listening and watching pleasure is not of the caliber to inspire and encourage young men. In fact, most of what is produced is degrading. The flip of a switch right in your own home has the potential of destroying within you a sense of what is right and what is wrong” (“I Confer the Priesthood of Aaron,” Ensign, Nov. 1985, 46).
I also taught my grandson Terry four lessons based on the story of Daniel in the Old Testament. I told him to (1) keep his body healthy and clean, (2) develop his mind and become wise, (3) be strong and resist temptation in a world filled with it, and (4) trust in the Lord, especially when you need His protection.
I closed my counsel to Terry with these words: “These stories in the scriptures will never grow old. They will be just as exciting for you when you are reading them as a deacon, a teacher, a priest, a missionary, a home teacher, an elders quorum president, or whatever the Lord calls on you to do. They will teach you to have faith, courage, love for your fellowmen, confidence, and trust in the Lord” (Ensign, Nov. 1985, 48).
I am happy to report that Terry has been faithful to the charge I gave him 25 years ago. He later received the Melchizedek Priesthood, served a faithful mission, currently serves as an elders quorum president, and of course is a father of a beautiful daughter.

No one is perfect, but everyone should be striving for perfection. If we should stumble or fall as we travel life’s highway, let us apply the counsel given to us by Cliff Cushman, a member of the 1960 U.S. Olympic team. He won the silver medal in the 400-meter hurdles and was a top candidate for the gold medal in the 1964 Olympics; but in the American trials, he hit and tripped over a hurdle and was eliminated. Messages of sympathy poured in to him, and he replied with an open letter to the youth of his hometown, Grand Forks, North Dakota. He wrote:
“Over 15 years ago, I saw a star—first place in the Olympic Games. I literally started to run after it. In 1960 I came within three yards of grabbing it; this year I stumbled, fell and watched it recede four more years away. …
“In a split second all the many years of training, pain, sweat, blisters and agony of running were simply and irrevocably wiped out.
“But I tried! I would much rather fail knowing I had put forth an honest effort than never to have tried at all. …
“Certainly I was very disappointed in falling flat on my face. However, there is nothing I can do about it now but get up, pick the cinders from my wounds, and take one more step followed by one more and one more, until the steps turn into miles and miles into success.
“I know I may never make it. The odds are against me, but I have something in my favor—desire and faith. … At least I am going to try. How about you? … Unless your reach exceeds your grasp, how can you be sure what you can attain? …
“Let me tell you something about yourselves. … You are spending more money, enjoying more freedom, and driving more cars than ever before, yet many of you are very unhappy. Some of you have never known the satisfaction of doing your best in sports, the joy of excelling in class, the wonderful feeling of completing a job, any job, and looking back on it knowing that you have done your best. …
“I dare you to look up at the stars, not down at the mud, and set your sights on them that, up to now, you thought were unattainable. There is plenty of room at the top, but no room for anyone to sit down.
“Who knows? You may be surprised at what you can achieve with sincere effort. So get up, pick the cinders out of your wounds, and take one more step.
“I dare you!”
The last report I had on Cliff Cushman indicated that he was missing in action in the Vietnam war.

The officers of the 15-year-old class in a ward had determined to increase activity among their age group. One girl on their list had been listening to all the wrong voices, and when she openly sinned, her irate mother had refused to let her daughter come home to live. The girl dropped out of church, school, and decent living. The class consulted with their bishop and then approached the Young Women president with a deal. If she’d take the desperate young woman into her home, they would contribute support money each month by selling cakes and baby sitting. She agreed and a life was changed.

Now, referring to the statement about “convincing them of my word which shall have already gone forth among them,” I want to tell you of a little experience I had when I was in Holland. I had an invitation from some businessmen to attend one of their Bible classes. They met every week in one of the homes. We met that week in the home of a prominent furniture dealer. There were about 20 men there, and the only woman was the daughter of the man of the house. They gave me an hour and a half to discuss universal salvation, which includes our doctrine of preaching the gospel in the eternal worlds to the spirits that were disobedient here upon the earth and the doctrine of baptism of the living for the dead. So after I had discussed that matter, I just gave them chapter and verse and let them read it in their own copies of the Bible. I figured that they would believe it more if they read it in their Bible; otherwise, they would think that I had a different Bible. When I was through, I laid my Bible on the table and folded my arms and waited for a comment.
The first comment came from the daughter of the man of the house. She said, “Father, I just can’t understand it. I have never attended one of these Bible classes in my life when you haven’t had the last word to say on everything, and tonight you haven’t said a word.”
He shook his head and said, “My daughter, there isn’t anything to say. This man has been teaching us things we have never heard of, and he’s been teaching them to us out of our own Bible.” That’s what the Lord meant when he said that the prophet of this dispensation would not only bring forth his words, but would convince people of his words that had already gone forth among them.

As soon as I read “Please Don’t Give In” in the September 1989 issue, I knew I must write. The young man who sent that letter does not know just how right he is. I, too, had many, many struggles in the Church, and I am one of those young women who gave birth to a baby in high school. Unlike some others, I finished high school and went on to college. I also went back to the Church. He is right. Repentance is possible, and he’s right again in saying it’s much better to stay clean from the start.
I dream of what my life would have been like if I had lived worthily and wasn’t now supporting my little family. But more than that, every day I think of a way, any way, to make other people understand that once you take a step down, it’s so much harder to get back up. I now have a stronger testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel than I ever thought I would have, and I thank the Lord sincerely for people who have the courage to stand up and tell their stories to help other youth of the Church.
Name withheld

I left school at the age of 18 with poor A-level results. If I had to sum up my life it would be football, music, best mates and girlfriends. I managed to pass an aptitude test with British Gas and committed myself to a commercial traineeship for the next 3 years. I was to get paid for studying. A ‘win-win’ if ever I had encountered one!
However, this was a time in my young life when my years growing up in the Church clashed with “the world” and after a few years of living one face to my parents and church friends, and another to my work colleagues and teammates, I felt unsettled. I was not at ease with myself.
Fortunately, I had retained some private, religious behaviours. I prayed from time to time, usually when I needed something; I attended church just to meet with my friends; I did like to read the scriptures, bingeing from time to time when I needed a ‘pick me up’. It was whilst on one of these binges that I came across a scripture that hit me. It was in James 1:8, “A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways.” These words rang true and caused me to think very deeply about myself and how I was living. I had got to the point where I needed to know the truth; one way or another I needed to know!
It came to a head when I went on a 2-week training course to Nottingham. I was in my twenty-second year now. The lads on the course kept pestering me to ‘go out on the town’ … and I knew what that meant! But, after giving them some feeble, embarrassing excuses as to why I couldn’t, I determined instead to go on a long walk and ask God for the truth. As I walked, I prayed, and my prayer was demanding: “Lord, if you want me to live this gospel, with all its inconvenient commandments, for the rest of my life, then I need to know if this church is true!” I walked and prayed and prayed and walked for a few hours, repeating that same prayer. When I got back to my bedroom late at night, I got into this big double bed and asked the Lord one more time and implored that I did not want to sleep without this being resolved.
Then someone spoke to me. I say “someone” because I was alarmed by the voice. I looked around the room fully expecting someone to be there. There was no one to be seen, but I heard a voice that was external to me; it wasn’t my normal voice of conscience. I’d never heard it before nor have I since but, oh, was it powerful, penetrating, firm, loving and fatherly, all at the same time. Four words were said: “Martin, serve a mission!” This to say the least surprised me and in a split second I responded, “But, but, Lord, I never asked you if I should serve a mission, I only asked if the church was true!” I had gotten more than I had bargained for.
The voice said to Enos: “thy sins are forgiven thee”. To me I can infer it said thy sins are forgiven thee, but I had an additional charge …. now get yourself on a mission!
As you can imagine, this experience changed my life! I now had direction, I now had the truth! Did I serve with all my “heart, might, mind and strength” on that mission to London when I was a ‘youngish’ man? Absolutely!