Gospel Story Finder

Kent Madrian is carefully maneuvering his six-foot-six-inch body and an old Kirby vacuum cleaner over grandma’s best rug. Grandma is keeping a watchful eye on her furniture.
Bump. Kent runs into the easy chair and starts to go around it.
“You’ve got to move the chair,” Grandma says. “To get underneath.”
“I know, Grandma.”
After a few more turns around the floor Kent hits the switch and the machine’s rumble dies. “What do you want for dinner, Grandma?” Kent asks.
In case you haven’t noticed, there is something unusual about this scene—grandparents usually take care of grandchildren, not the other way around. But in this house, things have changed for a while. For four months Kent has been living with his grandparents, helping them out when they couldn’t take care of themselves.
Then in January Kent’s grandma hurt her arm and wasn’t able to do normal tasks around her house. Grandpa had been confined to a wheelchair and was also unable to help.
Though preparing to leave on a mission to Italy in April, Kent moved in. “My grandparents had always been there for me, so I saw it as an opportunity to pay a small part back,” he says.
Kent moved in with the idea he would be cleaning, cooking, shopping—and he did all those things. But ask him about peeling potatoes or making breakfast and he’ll change the subject. He’d rather tell you what Grandma and Grandpa taught him.
“Grandma got me ready for my mission in a lot of ways,” he says. “She taught me how to iron and cook, but more importantly she helped me spiritually. I had a lot of time to read in the scriptures and I talked to her about what I was reading.
“Grandma taught me a lot of the gospel is learning to think about the other guy,” says Kent. “And that’s how you find yourself, by serving others.”
So, he says he came away a better person by just being around Ruby and Delos. Then again, he was a pretty decent guy to start. Let Grandma Ruby give you an example. “At first, Kent slept in a sleeping bag at the foot of Grandpa’s bed. Kent wanted to be there if Delos needed to get up in the night. After a few nights I made Kent sleep in another room because his back was hurting.”
Or Ruby will tell you how Delos enjoyed watching baseball games on television. Delos and Ruby couldn’t afford cable service so Kent dipped into his college savings to pay for a sports channel so Delos could watch Cincinnati Reds’ games.
But as close as the three got in those months, Kent faced the same challenges most young people do in relating to older people. When asked if he had to listen to the same story more than once, Kent flashed a gee-whiz grin and nodded. “I’d hear the same story like six times over. I’d just be nice and listen.”
That, however, was a small price to pay. Kent now believes he knows his grandparents.
“I have always loved them,” says Kent, “but I guess I never really understood them. I think I do now. They are just like all of us. They have the same needs. The only difference is they have a lifetime of experiences to tell you about. If you get to know them, they can be some of the best friends you have.”
Kent has now left on his mission, but the memories he has of those last months with his grandparents cannot be erased. “It was hard leaving when you know you’re needed,” he says. “But I’m needed in Italy too. They understand that.”

Within the week, I listened to one of the brethren who has just returned from the mission field. He has been out nearly five years, and he told of some of the experiences in the field. He told of people that had illness and the doctors did everything they could for them, but they could not heal them. But the humble missionaries, the humble men who held the priesthood, placed their hands upon the heads of those who were afflicted and rebuked their ailments, and they were healed.

My brother gave me his old cell phone. It was red and shiny. A few days later my mom said that my sister who was going to college had just called. She had forgotten to take her cell phone out of her pocket and ran it through the wash. It wasn’t working, and she couldn’t afford a new one. I wrapped up my cell phone and we went to see her. I will never forget her face when she opened it. I know Heavenly Father was happy with me because of the good feeling I had inside.

I remember a family in Albuquerque, New Mexico, I met years ago: a father, a mother, and two teenage daughters who belonged to no church but read the Bible together every day. They pondered the Savior’s life and His words. When we found this family, they had already decided that Christ would have a church and that they should find it. They knew that it would have prophets and apostles at its foundation because that is what Christ had placed in His church when He lived on the earth. They knew that the resurrected Lord had appeared to His Apostles.
And so it seemed right to this family when we testified that God, the Father, and His Son, the Savior of the world, came to a boy prophet, Joseph Smith. And the Holy Spirit, which they also recognized, told them it was true. They recognized the truth, that this is the church of Jesus Christ, in large part because they had always remembered Him. Every day they had gathered to read about Him and His words, and so they remembered Him. And after they were baptized, they were ready to follow the living prophet because they knew that the Savior always speaks to His prophets to bless His people.

I learned from my wife the importance of expressions of love. Early in our marriage, often I would open my scriptures to give a message in a meeting, and I would find an affectionate, supportive note Jeanene had slipped into the pages. Sometimes they were so tender that I could hardly talk. Those precious notes from a loving wife were and continue to be a priceless treasure of comfort and inspiration.
I began to do the same thing with her, not realizing how much it truly meant to her. I remember one year we didn’t have the resources for me to give her a valentine, so I decided to paint a watercolor on the front of the refrigerator. I did the best I could; only I made one mistake. It was enamel paint, not watercolor. She never let me try to remove that permanent paint from the refrigerator.
I remember one day I took some of those little round paper circles that form when you punch holes in paper, and I wrote on them the numbers 1 to 100. I turned each over and wrote her a message, one word on each circle. Then I scooped them up and put them in an envelope. I thought she would get a good laugh.
When she passed away, I found in her private things how much she appreciated the simple messages that we shared with each other. I noted that she had carefully pasted every one of those circles on a piece of paper. She not only kept my notes to her, but she protected them with plastic coverings as if they were a valuable treasure. There is only one that she didn’t put with the others. It is still behind the glass in our kitchen clock. It reads, “Jeanene, it is time to tell you I love you.” It remains there and reminds me of that exceptional daughter of Father in Heaven.

One of my friends is very special, and I call him Cheep. My younger brother, Craig, has a special friend too. He calls him Cheepest. Both of our praying mantis friends like to play with us and crawl on our hands and arms. One day when I was holding Cheep he jumped onto my face. That really tickled! I wanted to take him off, but my Dad said, “Wait!” He wanted to take a picture of him.
It was very hard to hold still with Cheep on my face. I blinked hard and shut my eyes tight. “Hurry up, Dad!” I shouted. But Dad seemed to be enjoying watching me and wanted to get more pictures. “Hold still, Keith,” he cautioned. “Just a couple more minutes.”
By now I was starting to sweat a lot. Finally Cheep crawled over my forehead and did a Tarzan swing from one lock of my hair to another. He’s a real strange guy.
You probably wonder where all of our praying mantises come from. Well, in the fall the large ones lay lots of eggs on our trees and the walls of our house. Then in the spring when they first feel the warm rays of the sun, they begin to hatch. Every day we check to see if they’ve started hatching, so we can watch them and take pictures of them. This is really fun! First one will come out of the egg case and then another. They stretch and squirm to get out, and then they rest in the sun until they feel brave. Sometimes fifteen or twenty of them will be resting by an egg case when we find them. When they see us, they run away.
Once when Grandma and Grandpa Wakefield were visiting us from Minnesota, we watched some eggs that were hatching on the wall of our house. Right beside the egg case a spider had built a nest; and whenever a small mantis came out, the spider would dash over and bite him, spin him up in a web like a mummy, and pull him over to his nest. I wanted to squash that spider, but Grandpa said that spiders need to live too.
The little mantises that aren’t eaten by spiders run off to live in our flower beds and garden. There they sit very quietly until an even smaller insect comes by that they can catch and eat. As they get bigger, their appetites get bigger too, and they crawl out of their old skins and grow new ones. When they are full grown they are two or three inches long. Once we saw one of these big ones catch a stinkbug on some vines near our house. And another time we saw one catch a honeybee that was eating an old pear that had fallen off our pear tree. It was kind of scary.
In the fall, after they have laid their eggs, the big mantises die. That’s what my dad said he read in a book, anyway. But one time we found some that had lived over the whole winter in the vines by our house. I think that they must have hibernated.
We always try to be nice to our praying mantis friends, because they eat a lot of bad insects that hurt our garden. They are also fun to study and write stories about.

1 “Stop it!”
“Stop it!”
Andrew stomped his foot and stuck his tongue out at his little sister. She did the same to him.
2 “Mom, I can’t take it anymore. Please make Sarah stop copying me.”
3 “I don’t know if we can stop Sarah from doing everything you do. Right now she is learning from your example and doing the things you teach her to do.”
“I didn’t teach her that.”
“Yes, you did. Sarah loves you and thinks you are a great big brother. She watches what you do and tries to do the same.”
4 “I still don’t like it when she copies what I do. It gives me a headache.”
5 “Remember, Jesus set a good example for us by showing love and being kind to others. You can show Sarah a good example by doing what Jesus did.”
6 Andrew thought about what Mom said. He decided he would try to be a good example. Andrew looked at Sarah and smiled.
“I love you.”
Sarah smiled back at him.
“I love you too.”

One day during an institute class, the teacher presented a video portraying a person much like myself—one who was not sure of his testimony. He sought counsel from his bishop, and the bishop explained that our Father in Heaven looks for moments to answer our prayers, but we must be attentive and receptive to the Holy Ghost. The bishop in the video also said that learning to recognize the voice of the Holy Spirit requires time and a humble heart.

These words touched me deeply. I recognized that I had never listened to the voice of the Spirit regarding the Church because I had been unwilling to do so. From the time I began praying for a testimony of the Church, the answers had come to me quietly, little by little, but I had refused to hear.

During that institute lesson I felt a change in my heart that I could not understand, and the heavy burden of doubt I had carried for nine years left me. I now accepted what I had previously doubted.

But even then I was tempted to fight against the Spirit. I told myself that what I was feeling was just a passing impression, an emotional response to the film. This war continued inside me as I left the classroom, so I found a place to be alone. And there the presence of the Holy Spirit came to me more clearly and finally liberated me from my doubts. I was filled with incomparable joy. A weight was lifted from my shoulders.

Now I can say with full conviction that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the only true Church, restored in these last days by Jesus Christ through the Prophet Joseph Smith. This testimony is precious to me. With it, I feel spiritually prepared to receive the greater light and knowledge the Lord and His Church have to offer.

A Mia Maid from Utah wrote: “This past year I had some personal challenges. I lost track of the Spirit, and then something incredible happened. I went to my bishop. I can’t remember ever feeling so scared. But the Lord was with me in that room, holding my trembling hand. I knew I could be forgiven. It’s been a hard road—humbling, repenting, and learning to pray all over again. But He was there. He never left me for a minute. I’ve been on both sides, and the light side is definitely the place to be” (letter in possession of Young Women office).

One cold dark night Bob Ackerman sat dozing in his chair beside a cozy fire. Suddenly he heard a clip-clop outside and a knock on his door. There stood a shivering handsome stranger.
“Come in,” said Bob, “and kneel by my hearth and warm yourself.” Quick as a flash, the stranger did so.
“Where are you heading on such a night?” asked Bob.
“It is no secret,” replied the stranger. “An old legend was told to me yeaterday, and I am going to ski north to a spot high in the mountains of China where I shall find magic snails.” Then without stopping to even say goodbye, the stranger lunged out the door and was gone.
“What a strange fellow!” exclaimed Bob. “He was a bit too thin and quite thankless. I wonder if he were really here at all. Perhaps I have only been dreaming!”

Five years later, Edward was still quite small, and often mistaken for a younger child. Although his body had not grown very much, his faith had grown enormously. Edward was not afraid to risk his life for the Church. And since this was a time of intense persecution, he often volunteered for dangerous assignments. One October night, he stood guard near the encampment at Far West, Missouri. His job was to watch for enemies and not allow them to enter the camp.
It was a beautiful, clear night full of stars. As dawn approached, the moon set and the sky became darker. Mist began to form. Then in the distance he heard horses slowly approaching. As the horses came closer, he heard faint, muffled voices. “Enemies trying to sneak into camp,” Edward thought. He reached for his rifle, cocked it, and held it steadily in the direction of the sound. It was so misty and dark that Edward knew the approaching strangers were not aware of him. When they were just a few feet away, Edward called out, “Who comes there?”
“Friends,” was the reply.
“Halt and give the secret password.”
“God and liberty.”
That was correct, and Edward let the strangers advance. As the first rays of sunlight appeared, Edward recognized the first rider. He was a church leader named Lyman Wight. He rode right up to Edward, the horse’s breath forming a cloud in the chilly air over Edward’s head. Brother Wight looked down from his horse at the short lad. He showed Edward that he was carrying both a gun and a sword. “So just what would you have done if I had been a real enemy?” he asked the youthful-looking guard.
Without flinching, Edward said that he would have defended his post.
A friendly chuckle came from behind Brother Wight. “That’s right, Bub!”
Bub! To Edward’s shock and embarrassment, the Prophet Joseph Smith was the second rider! Edward couldn’t believe that he had actually drawn a rifle upon the Prophet of God. But the Prophet’s steady gaze spoke of love, friendship, and appreciation. To Edward’s great relief he knew there were no hard feelings.
Edward later wrote about the incident in his journal and concluded that “the prophet always had a good word for all and was universally loved by the true in heart.”

I trust in God. I know He lives and hears my prayers. In order to know these truths, I immersed myself in the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ.
After I was baptized I felt the fiery darts of the enemy confuse me and cause me to put off attending seminary. A few days later I began reading the Book of Mormon with a prayer to our Father in Heaven. I felt a beautiful response in my heart that motivated me to attend seminary and apply each class to my life.
Now I understand that when I was baptized into the Church I gained many blessings. I feel very happy to have my testimony as a constant source of strength each day of my life.
María Marcela Vargas Del Águila,Santa Anita Ward, Lima Perú Santa Anita Stake

In a worldwide leadership training meeting, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland told this story: “For many years, I have loved the story that President Packer has told about William E. Berrett’s boyhood Sunday School teacher. An elderly Danish brother was called to teach a class of rowdy boys. … He didn’t speak the language very well; he still had a heavy Danish brogue; he was much older, with big farm hands. Yet he was to teach these young, rambunctious 15-year-olds. For all intents and purposes, it would not have seemed like a very good match. But Brother Berrett used to say—and this is the part President Packer quotes—that this man somehow taught them; that across all those barriers, across all those limitations, this man reached into the hearts of those rowdy 15-year-old kids and changed their lives. And Brother Berrett’s testimony was ‘We could have warmed our hands by the fire of his faith.’”

The New Era is a great asset to our work. We love it. As a missionary I always enjoy the stories about special missionaries who do great things. I would like to add to those stories one about a very special missionary whom I am honored to serve with. Last week the chain on my bike broke while we were on the way to an appointment. Since it was Sunday, there was no way of getting it fixed, so we caught a ride home. The next day we had an appointment all the way across town, so my companion, being the special missionary he is, towed me with all his might up and down all the hills in Vicksburg. I think that shows true dedication and pure love for me, his companion. That’s the type of missionary I’m always proud to serve with. Thanks, New Era, for all the help you give the servants of the Lord.
Elder Greg ChristoffersenMississippi Jackson Mission

That time came all too quickly for Brigham, who developed a deep love for and loyalty to Joseph. Brigham followed the young Prophet unquestioningly through many difficult times, and at the Prophet’s call Brigham left his family again and again to preach the gospel in the eastern United States, in Canada, and in England. He was in Boston on June 27, 1844, the day Joseph and Hyrum were killed in Carthage, Illinois. Though rumors of the brothers’ deaths spread rapidly, it was not until July 16 that Brigham learned for certain of their martyrdom.
As President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Brigham Young gathered the other members of the quorum who were also preaching throughout the eastern states and returned with them to Nauvoo.
A conference was held in Nauvoo on August 7 and 8, and Brigham addressed the grieving Saints. Benjamin F. Johnson reported that “as soon as [Brigham] spoke I jumped upon my feet, for in every possible degree it was Joseph’s voice, and his person, in look, attitude, dress and appearance … ; and I knew in a moment the spirit and mantle of Joseph was upon him.”

The youth of the Rootstown Ward, Akron Ohio Stake, devoted a year of service to handicapped children in their area. On a regular basis, 21 youth and their adult leaders traveled to a foundation facility where 126 handicapped children live. They learned from the staff of the facility that the children gained great benefit from the time spent with visitors.

When asked about the service they gave, Brian Kleckner said, “It’s kind of neat. These kids don’t get out every day. It’s fun, and in church we learn to care about people.”

Amanda Moss said, “I enjoy the kids. I feel I’m doing something special.”

Noticing the improvement some children made, Gretchen Brockett said, “I think it’s neat to work with these children and watch them progress over the months that we’ve been coming. It makes me feel good, and it touches my spirit.”

As missionaries in the Chile Antofagasta Mission, my companion and I were teaching a young lady and her brother, who was eight years old. For the second discussion, her brother invited David Marín, a friend his age, to attend. David was a small boy, and he did not yet know how to read. But he looked at us attentively, listened enthusiastically, and asked for a copy of the Book of Mormon. My companion and I glanced at each other. Since David didn’t read, we silently decided against giving him a Book of Mormon.
Later that same day, we happened to meet David again in the street. He said, “Elders, when are you going to give me my Book of Mormon?” Still thinking he would have no use for the book, we let the opportunity go by a second time. After all, he was just an eight-year-old boy.
When we taught the third discussion to the young lady and her brother, little David was there again. After the discussion, he asked us again, this time a little annoyed, “And where is my Book of Mormon?”
I looked at him and felt something special. Smiling, I tried to explain why we hadn’t given him the book, saying, “You cannot read it, David.” His face fell. But at that moment, the thought came into my mind, His parents can read it. So I continued, “But your parents can. Let’s go to your house and talk with them.”
David smiled, jumped for joy, and took us to his home. There we met his father, Don Astemio; his mother, María; his sisters, Macarena and Valeska, both age 11; and his one-year-old brother.
The Maríns were a humble and loving family. The father had once been a fine athlete, but he had been afflicted with Parkinson’s disease for about seven years; for the past two years, he had been confined to bed.
After listening to the discussions, David, Macarena, and Valeska were baptized but not Don Astemio because of his illness. His wife, María, was not baptized either.
We continued to visit the family, and one day Don Astemio said, “Tomorrow I am going to be baptized,” adding, “and afterward I will be healed.” When I heard these words, I felt great joy, but I was also afraid. I knew his faith had grown, but what would happen if he could not walk after his baptism? I tried to explain to him that baptism would heal him spiritually—but a physical healing was in the hands of our Father in Heaven. In spite of everything my companion and I said, he remained certain that after his baptism he was going to walk.
That night I knelt and prayed with all my heart, asking Heavenly Father for His will to be done. After my prayer, I felt a special peace.
The next day, Don Astemio stood with great difficulty. He could not take a single step without assistance. When we got to the meetinghouse, we had to go up a long staircase to the second floor. We were all moved by the great effort and pain it took Don Astemio to go up those stairs, step by step. When we finally walked into the building, the members there looked at us with surprise.
When Don Astemio came out of the water, I saw he had great faith, but his body was the same. He could not stand by himself.
We left him at his home after the service. He did not want to go to bed but remained sitting calmly in an armchair.
The next day, we dropped by to visit him. As we approached his home, we could see little David playing outside with a ball—and there was Don Astemio running and playing with his son. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. My eyes filled with tears, and in my heart I thanked Heavenly Father for His great love. Two weeks later, María was baptized.
While Don Astemio’s healing was unusual, I am grateful that the Lord blessed this family in a remarkable way. Left to our own intelligence, my companion and I would have continued to ignore little David, but the Lord knew something we didn’t. He knew that this child would be the means by which an entire family would come into His Church and be helped in ways we could not have foreseen.

Radmila was fourteen years old when her family moved from Yugoslovia to Switzerland. She didn’t think that it would make any difference whether she went to school in Switzerland or in Yugoslovia. But, four years later, in Switzerland, missionaries from the Church knocked on her door.
“I was an only child and my parents didn’t want to send me away to Yugoslovia,” says Radmila. “When I look back on those years, I think Heavenly Father must have wanted me to stay in Switzerland. I was being prepared to receive the gospel.”
Radmila was born and went to school in Sarajevo, in central Yugoslovia. There she was taught that religion was not necessary. Her father didn’t believe in God, and her mother was not an active member of her church. “I didn’t even know what the Bible was,” Radmila laughs. “I had heard of David and Goliath, but I thought that they were characters out of Greek or Roman mythology.”
But at school in Switzerland, Radmila met people who were active in their religious faith. Now she began asking herself questions about God, Jesus Christ, and the purpose of life. During this time, she began writing to a pen pal she found through a Finnish organization. Her pen pal was a girl in New Zealand who was a member of the Church. Although she never mentioned religion in her letters, she told Radmila that she had some friends in Switzerland who would come and visit her. Radmila was excited.
A few months later, in September of 1974, four neatly dressed young men appeared at her door. Radmila said, “Oh, yes, I have been waiting for you. Come in.” Radmila smiles as she remembers their excited faces at her welcome.
When she finally realized that they had never been to New Zealand and that they represented the “Mormon” Church, she told them she had no interest in their message. They surprised her by politely beginning to leave. But as they were going out the door, one of the missionaries asked, “By the way, do you know Kresimir Cosic?”
Well, that changed everything. “Everyone in Yugoslovia knows Kresimir,” she says. “He’s a real sports hero in Yugoslovia.”
In the early 1970s, Kresimir Cosic played basketball for Brigham Young University, was baptized into the Church, and then returned to Yugoslavia. There he played for the Yugoslav national basketball team, helping them win a world championship and a gold medal in the 1980 Olympics.
“I wondered how the missionaries had heard of him,” says Radmila. As they discussed Brother Cosic, the missionaries mentioned his relationship to Brigham Young University and the Church. They invited Radmila to a presentation at the local branch, and she agreed to come.
When Radmila walked into the small chapel in the basement of an apartment building, the first thing she noticed was a sign that said The Glory of God Is Intelligence.
“I was immediately impressed and moved,” she says. “I had always been taught that religious people were not intelligent and that they didn’t ever seek to learn. I wanted to learn.” The presentation was on the Book of Mormon. “Everything in the presentation seemed to focus on the fact that I could learn for myself whether or not what I was hearing was true,” remembers Radmila. “I didn’t need someone to tell me it was true—I could study and ask God for myself.”
She accepted a German-language Book of Mormon, took it home—and put it on a shelf.
A few months later, during Christmas time, Radmila began to hear more about Jesus Christ. There were shows on television about his life, and people talked about him more. She wanted to learn about him, and she remembered the Book of Mormon. She began to read it. “I couldn’t understand a thing,” she recalls. “It wasn’t that the German was too difficult for me, it was just that I didn’t understand words like repentance because I had never heard of them before.”
She decided she would call the missionaries for help. At the same time, two new missionaries were praying for inspiration about which investigators on their list to visit. They both felt that Radmila needed them. When they knocked, she opened the door and said, once again, “Oh, come in—I’ve been waiting for you.”
She still didn’t want to hear the missionary discussions, but she set up a study schedule with them. Each week she would read ten chapters in the Book of Mormon, write down her thoughts, and then discuss them with the missionaries.
“They were so patient with my sometimes provoking and unimportant questions,” she says. “One time I told them not to come in because I hadn’t read that week. They suggested that we read together. We started reading about Ammon, and then they said they had to leave. I couldn’t believe it. For the first time, I was beginning to feel the Spirit and get excited about the book. As soon as they left, I went to my room and finished the story.”
Then Radmila began to pray about the Book of Mormon. One day while she was reading in 3 Nephi about the Savior’s visit to the American continent, she suddenly felt very strongly that it had all happened. She felt that the Savior was real, and she couldn’t deny it any more. “Everything made sense,” she says. When the missionaries returned, they helped her understand how the Holy Ghost answers prayers, and she accepted their baptismal challenge. “Now,” the missionaries said, “we have to teach you the discussions.”
“Since I knew it was all true, I was able to accept all the commandments—tithing, the Word of Wisdom, everything—from the beginning,” says Radmila. “For example, from that moment, I never had a desire to smoke again.”
Radmila was baptized on 22 February 1975 in Zurich, Switzerland. She later moved back to Belgrade, Yugoslovia, where the Church was just being organized. In 1981 she served a mission to Montreal, Canada, the first missionary to be called from Yugoslovia. Now she is finishing a graduate degree in physical therapy at Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah. She also helps translate Church materials into Serbo-Croatian, the Yugoslav national language.
As she look back, Radmila says she feels Heavenly Father performed many miracles in her life. Once she questioned the existence of God. Now she knows that God has a strong love for her, and she wants to serve him any way she can.

I grew up as a cowboy working on my family’s cattle ranch. One of my jobs was to gather hay from the fields with a dump rake, which is a giant rake pulled by a team of two horses. Driving the team, I raked up hay and dumped it into large piles. One day when I was 11, I thought I heard something broken in the rake. I pulled on the reins to stop the horses. When they stopped, I let go of the reins and jumped off to see what the problem was.
As soon as I got off, the horses turned around and looked at me. When they saw that I had let go of the reins, they bolted away, racing for the barn with the big rake bouncing along behind them. I was left far behind, alone and afraid.
When the horses got to the barn they ran through the door, but the dump rake was too big and it crashed into the barn. The doors were badly damaged and so was the rake. I knew I was in trouble.
This experience taught me to never let go of the reins, not even for a moment. Lehi’s dream in the Book of Mormon also teaches about never letting go of something—the iron rod, which is the word of God. We should never let go of the iron rod, not even for a moment. If we hold onto the gospel principles tightly, we will get where we want to go, which is back to live with Heavenly Father. If we let go of the gospel principles, bad things can happen very quickly. We must always try to choose the right and never let go of the iron rod.

Hong Kong China Temple
In 1991 the First Presidency asked the Asia Area Presidency to begin searching for a temple site in Hong Kong. If the Church were to build a temple in Hong Kong, it would have to be built before July 1, 1997, which was when the People’s Republic of China would resume government control.
President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) arrived in Hong Kong on July 25, 1992, to approve a site for the temple. After visiting six different locations, President Hinckley discussed his feelings with the local stake presidents and decided that none of the locations would work. At 6:45 a.m. President Hinckley called the Area Presidency and asked to meet in his hotel room at 8:00 a.m. After they arrived, President Hinckley “then shared, on a sheet of white paper, a detailed drawing. During the night, he had envisioned a building of about eight floors above ground, with the temple on the top floors and other functions housed on the lower floors. … This concept of multiple use, President Hinckley explained, would depart from tradition in that all other temples in the Church at that time were stand-alone buildings.”7
President Hinckley returned to Salt Lake City and presented the new design to the Temple Department. The architects saw an opportunity to expand the building and created a plan that would be nearly twice the size originally designed by President Hinckley. The plans were completed and sent to Hong Kong for approval, but after negotiations with the officials, the building plans were denied. Remembering the experience they had earlier with President Hinckley’s first design, the Area Presidency immediately recommended that the Church return to his drawing. This plan quickly received approval, and the Church began construction on the temple. The Hong Kong China Temple was dedicated on May 26, 1996, by President Hinckley.