Gospel Story Finder

Bruce Bowen, former Dean of Admissions wrote that the thought of taking a position at BYU-Hawaii turned his wife Debbie's world upside down. They had just moved into a brand new home they had built. Debbie had just delivered their eighth child. The thought of moving the entire family to a island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean was overwhelming, crazy. But once the idea was deposited, like the seed of faith, it grew and swelled and filled their minds and hearts. He says "It seemed that [once the seed was planted] everywhere we went we met someone who had lived in Hawaii or heard someone speaking about Hawaii or saw something that reminded us of Hawaii, we couldn't get away from it. Bit by bit our hearts were softened as the Lord's will was made known. When we came to the campus for interviews, we had another witness of the spirit while touring the Polynesian Cultural Center. . We moved to Hawaii in June of that year and embarked on the most wonderful experience of our lives . . . we are not the same people that we were before moving to Hawaii, and we will forever be grateful for the way our hearts and lives have been touched by the spirit of aloha." Bruce Bowen is now the Dean of Admissions at Weber State University.

Likewise, thousands of students offer similar narratives of their journey here by divine guidance. The story of Keith Jefferies, a current student, is typical. He first came to Hawaii as a visitor, not a member of the Church, saw the Mormon temple from a tour bus and heard from the driver that there was a Mormon University here and that even a non-Mormon could go to if he just obeyed the rules. Keith remembers the temple, "Blazed [white] as if the heavens themselves opened to pour down light upon it."
Keith returned to tell his parents about a Mormon University by a glorious temple. Back in Canada, the family was anxious to find out about the Church. They discovered from the phonebook that there was a branch of the Church in their town. The whole family decided to attend Sunday services for Keith's sake, so they could find out what the rules are to attend BYU-Hawaii. There were young missionaries present anxious to tell them. The whole family received the missionaries and their message and joined the Church after one month of investigation.
One year later the family was sealed in the temple and Keith left on a mission to Peru. There he was instrumental in bringing many families into the Church. In Keith's words, "The wonderful way our family came into the Church diverted my attention temporarily from my plans to attend BYU-Hawaii. At the close of my mission I was finally able to pursue my educational vision at this school." Keith is now married himself in the temple, his younger brother is serving a mission, and the family is fully active. Keith plans to graduate this December.

“When I was six years old, I had an experience that is very important to me. I’m afraid that I didn’t come out of it as a hero—exactly the opposite. Most of the time we’re not heroes. We are learning, progressing, correcting our mistakes. This incident really taught me about the consequences of dishonesty. In Germany at that time, if teachers wanted to send information to parents, they sent home a letter. Such a letter was always sent in a blue envelope, and so it was nicknamed the ‘blue letter.’ A blue letter always contained bad news! I must have done something wrong at school, because I got a blue letter. I put it in my school bag, and when I got home, my mother asked, ‘What’s wrong with you?’

“I lied. ‘Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.’

“She said, ‘Well, I see by the tip of your nose that something’s wrong.’

“That made me angry and very defensive, so after lunch I went into the living room and opened up my school bag and put everything on the desk. I must have been careless, because the blue letter fell out. My mother immediately saw it and asked, ‘What’s that?’ I tried to grab the envelope and hide it, but Mother had already picked it up and was opening it.

“I will never forget the feelings of pain that came over me while she was reading that letter. To make a mistake is one thing, but it isn’t a really serious mistake if you admit it, ask for forgiveness, and make a commitment not to do it again. But to try to hide a mistake, hoping that nobody will find out, that’s a serious mistake.

“And so the lie caused me much more sorrow than the original mistake. I can’t even remember what was in that blue letter, but I still recall, in vivid detail, the awfulness of lying to my mother.”

As I grew older, I learned not only the value of hard work but also about the blessings of doing things that at the time you don’t realize are important and good for you. During World War II, when I was very little, I came down with a lung disease, but no one knew it at the time. I knew that I was easily out of breath when I rode the delivery bicycle. I thought that it was because the cart was heavy. Later, when I joined the air force, I learned that because of that hard work, somehow my body had healed itself. I had built up endurance. I had built up immunity to disease. I had built up strength. When the doctors saw those spots on my lungs, they asked me about them. They said that the disease took care of itself and that I passed my physical. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to become a pilot. I have been a pilot for thirty-five years, and I was a chief pilot for Lufthansa German Air Lines.

When I was in seventh grade I decided to participate in a running competition against the other middle schools. What I didn’t know was that the area we were running in was hilly, and so running would be a lot harder than I was used to.
When I was a little over halfway through the race, I slowed to a walk and just decided that I couldn’t do it. Tears came, and I felt weak and embarrassed.
As I was about to stop and sit down, two eighth-grade girls from my school caught up to me and started encouraging me to keep going. I reluctantly started to slowly jog with them, with one on each side of me. My whole body was aching, but I kept on going. When we were finally in sight of the finish line, my youngest sister came to run with me too.
When we crossed the finish line, I was relieved. I received a ribbon for seventh place, and I felt embarrassed since there were only seven girls who ran. But now it reminds me of how I completed something that seemed so impossible.

Mike was the youngest and the littlest in his family.
He was too young to go to school with his brother and sister. He was too little to play basketball with them.
Mike couldn’t eat as fast as the rest of his family, so sometimes the dessert would be all gone by the time he was ready for seconds.
He still couldn’t tie his shoelaces so that they stayed tied.
Sometimes he couldn’t reach the toy he wanted in the toy cabinet. And the cookie jar was completely out of his reach.
Mike couldn’t ride a bike yet—he was still riding his tricycle. And he wasn’t allowed to cross the street alone.
He was too small to climb the tree that grew behind the house—he couldn’t reach even the lowest branch.
Mike couldn’t stay up as late as his brother or his sister, either—they were allowed to stay up a whole hour longer!
Sometimes it was very hard to be the youngest and the littlest.
But there were times when being the youngest and the littlest could be nice.
When Grandma came to visit, Mike was the only one little enough to sit on her lap.
Sometimes when his brother and sister were in school, Mike and his mother went shopping together. The lady in the bakery would often give him a big cookie. And after lunch his mother would have time to read a story to him. They would laugh together at the pictures in the storybook. That was fun!
Some days his sister would give Mike a ride in his red wagon. He was the only one little enough to fit into it.
Mike was small enough that he could turn cartwheels right in the family room. His brother and sister were not allowed to do that.
When Mike and Daddy went for walks, Daddy would give him a piggyback ride home. Pretty soon he would be too big for that, Daddy said, but now he was just the right size.
One day something happened that made Mike very happy that he was little.
The whole family had been shopping together. When they got home, no one had a house key.
“How can we get in?” they asked each other.
“I know,” said Mother. “That small window is open. If we boost Mike up to the window, he can climb through it and open the door from the inside.”
Daddy boosted Mike up to the small window. He wriggled through it, then ran to open the front door. His mother, father, brother, and sister came in.
“You’re our hero, Mike,” they all said. “You rescued us!”
Mike grinned. Sometimes being the youngest and the littlest was a very good thing.

We were fortunate to attend the Melbourne Temple in November 2019 for a few days. Little did we realise it would be our last trip for a significant amount of time. Before the pandemic, my husband and I would attend the temple anywhere between one and four times a year. To get there we would either take a flight or a ferry. Some years that has been hard financially, so we made the trip less often. Some of those trips were day trips; others lasted a few days.
When the temple and our state borders closed during the COVID-19 pandemic, I wondered how I would keep the temple as a meaningful part of my life. I felt strengthened by feelings of the Holy Ghost that even though the temple was closed, the blessings of my temple covenants were not closed to me. I felt an added closeness to the Lord, particularly when I focussed on serving others, whether in my own family or those I minister to.
I spent time reviewing in my mind the covenants I have made, the feelings I have experienced in the temple, and the knowledge I have gained. I reviewed in my mind the wording of the ordinances. I continued researching my family history, entering names and sources into FamilySearch, and sharing those names with the temple. I look forward to seeing the list of shared names start to be completed when the temples reopen.

[As the play progresses, a new family enters town to join the United Order—Brother WILLIAM RUSSELL, an ailing widower, and his teenage daughter, CATHERINE ANN. The newcomers have just met BROTHER GARRISON, president of the Order. EZRA is also present.]
BROTHER RUSSELL: I wish we did have more to consecrate to the Order. But these two bags are all we own of the world. And this necklace of my daughter’s. It’s real gold.
CATHERINE ANN: Papa! No! You gave it to me when I turned sixteen. It’s mine!
PRESIDENT GARRISON: That’s all right, Miss Catherine Ann. Jewelry and keepsakes are not required. And we’ve never turned anybody away yet on account of poverty.
BROTHER RUSSELL: No, I couldn’t come and not bring something that’ll help. Please, Catherine Ann, for me?
[Slowly CATHERINE ANN takes off the necklace and gives it to her father, who hands it to PRESIDENT GARRISON.]
PRESIDENT GARRISON: When there are people starving in Orderville, we will sell this for food. Until then, I reckon we need somebody who can take very good care of it. Miss Catherine Ann, I’m asking you to be steward of this necklace.
CATHERINE ANN [taking it gratefully]: Thank you.
PRESIDENT GARRISON [smiling]: You’ll find that life here isn’t so bad as you’re expecting. If you put your heart into it, you’ll catch the vision of the Order and see it like we do.
CATHERINE ANN: To be honest, I just don’t see it at all. What’s wrong with living like—like regular folks?

One particularly powerful experience that I had with prayer was in June 2018 as I prepared for a mission. I had received my mission call to Greece and was eagerly applying for my visa and participating in the temple preparation course to be ready to go to the temple. One night I went to a friend’s house who was no longer a member of the church. She had many other friends there who were drinking and when the topic of my mission call came up in the conversation, they all started saying discouraging things about my decision. Saying that I didn’t know my own religion and Joseph Smith had done things I should know about and I shouldn’t preach stuff to others that I didn’t know enough about myself. I started doubting myself and my experiences and my decision to serve. As I drove home that night, my car became my sacred grove. I poured my heart out to God asking Him for help – a sign, reassurance, anything. I arrived at my university apartment full of snot and tears and nothing happened. No angel, no voice, no light, no miraculous open page of a Book of Mormon with the perfect scripture. So, I went to sleep, wondering if God had heard me.
A few days later, I received a call from an old friend from New Mexico who I hadn’t had contact with since leaving for university. She explained that she didn’t know why she was calling me, but she felt prompted to tell me that she had decided to serve a mission and was submitting her mission papers. She hadn’t told anyone except for her family. I said congratulations and thought “That was random.”
A few days later, again I received a text message from a girl who had been my roommate for my first semester of university. She also told me she had decided to serve a mission and was called to serve to speak Spanish and French in Montreal, Canada. I thought, “Wow, that’s really cool!” and again felt it was random.
Then a few weeks later I got a call from one of my close cousins, Eric, who had not been active in the church for most of his life because of his parent’s divorce and excommunication. He told me that he had recently decided to serve a mission and had received his call. Not only was he going to serve a full-time mission, but he had also been called to serve in Greece on 21st November 2018. We were going to serve together!
I knew that these friends had been an answer to prayer and through following the promptings of the Spirit they were able to give me the reassurance that I wasn’t alone and my decision to serve a mission was right and I should move forward with faith. Just like my friends and cousin at that time, we can be instruments in God’s hand to carry out His will and aid those we know and meet in their search for answers to their own prayers.

When I was 17, about ready to graduate from high school as a very average student with some handicaps, as I thought, everything around us came apart one Sunday morning. The next day we were called to the high school auditorium. On the stage was a chair with a small radio. The principal switched on the radio. We then heard the voice of President Franklin Delano Roosevelt as he announced that Pearl Harbor had been bombed. The United States was at war with Japan.

Later that scene was repeated. Again the voice of President Roosevelt, this time announcing that our country was at war with Germany. World War II had exploded across the world.

All at once our future was uncertain. We did not know what was ahead. Would we live to get married and have a family?

By the time we graduated from high school, many of our classmates had marched away to war, some of them never to return. The rest of us were soon to enter the military. We did not know about our future. Would we survive the war? Would there be enough of the world left when we returned?

Against the certainty that I would be drafted, I joined the air force. Soon I was in Santa Ana, California, for preflight training.

I did not then have a firm testimony that the gospel was true, but I knew that my seminary teachers, Abel S. Rich and John P. Lillywhite, knew it was true. I had heard them testify, and I believed them. I thought to myself, “I will lean on their testimonies until I gain one of my own.” And so it was.

I had heard about patriarchal blessings but had not received one. In each stake there is an ordained patriarch who has the spirit of prophecy and the spirit of revelation. He is authorized to give personal and private blessings to those who come recommended by their bishops. I wrote to my bishop for a recommend.

J. Roland Sandstrom was the ordained patriarch living in the Santa Ana stake. He knew nothing about me and had never seen me before, but he gave me my blessing. In it I found answers and instruction.

While patriarchal blessings are very private, I will share a short quote from mine: “You shall be guided through the whisperings of the Holy Spirit and you shall be warned of dangers. If you heed those warnings, our Heavenly Father will bless you so that you might again be united with your loved ones.”

That word if, though small in print, loomed as big as the page. I would be blessed to return from the war if I kept the commandments and if I heeded the promptings of the Holy Ghost. Although that gift had been conferred upon me at baptism, I did not yet know what the Holy Ghost was or how the promptings work.

What I needed to know about the promptings I found in the Book of Mormon. I read that “angels speak by the power of the Holy Ghost; wherefore, they speak the words of Christ. Wherefore, … feast upon the words of Christ; for behold, the words of Christ will tell you all things what ye should do.”

I heard of another case of a bishop who was called in Idaho. I think he was a bishop for about two months; then he lost his job. They offered him a job in Seattle, Washington. He went. Three months later he was a stake president. The Lord can move you around; he will if you let him. You ought to go where your opportunities are because you have to provide for your family. Yes, President Lee has said, “The most important of the Lord’s work you’ll ever do will be the work you do within the walls of your own home.” President David O. McKay said, “No success can compensate for failure in the home.” Provide for your family. That has to do with your career.

Anton watched as the computer screen loaded level six for what seemed like the millionth time. He took a deep breath and started moving through the maze, flying over colorful spikes and through fiery tunnels. He tapped his foot faster as he got closer and closer to the finish line.
“Anton?” It was Mom’s voice. She sounded like she needed something.
“Not now!” he thought. He jumped over another spike and sped deep through another tunnel. “Yes?” he said, not moving his eyes from the screen.
“Would you please get Felix into his pajamas and read him a story? I’ve got to finish cleaning up the kitchen.”
“Um … ,” He was so close! He curved through one last spiky corridor, over another flame, past a chomping monster, and … YES! across the finish line!
The computer loaded level seven. It looked harder, but Anton couldn’t wait to try it. He had worked so hard to reach this level. Anton hit the pause button and looked up at Mom, who was holding his little brother, Felix. “Can I have just a few more minutes? I just got to level seven!”
“I really need your help,” Mom said. “You can do one more level after you take care of Felix.”
Felix smiled. “Pwease?” he said in his tiny two-year-old voice.
Anton looked at the computer screen and sighed. “All right.” He’d just have to hurry so he could get back to his game.
He lifted Felix and carried him up the stairs to their room.
“Who’s my favorite baby brother?” he said, poking Felix’s squishy baby tummy. He blew on Felix’s stomach and smiled as Felix squealed with laughter.
Anton dressed Felix in his favorite dinosaur pajamas. Then he lifted Felix into bed and headed for the door. Mom had told him to read Felix a story too, but he had done the important part. Maybe now he could get in two more levels before bedtime.
Just then Anton felt a tug on his shirt. He looked down and saw that Felix had climbed out of bed.
“Bear?” Felix asked. He ran to his basket of books and brought back a book with a polar bear on the front.
“Aw, Felix, I’ve got things to do!” Anton said. Felix held the book above his head, looking up at Anton with his big brown eyes.
Anton couldn’t help but grin. “You won’t take no for an answer, will you? Well, OK.”
Anton sat down on Felix’s bed, and Felix climbed up into his lap. Anton opened to the first page and read while Felix leaned against him. Felix pointed to each animal on the page and practiced saying its name. “Zee-ba … famingo … wah-wus.”
When it was over, Anton closed the book and tucked Felix’s blanket around him. “Good night, Felix,” he said, kissing Felix on the head and standing to go.
But as he walked toward the door, he heard that little voice again. “Snuggle?”
Anton smiled. “OK. Scoot over. I’ll stay for a bit.”
Anton lay down on the pillow. At least for now, he didn’t really feel like doing anything else. He smiled when Felix gave a big yawn and closed his eyes. He felt the happiest he’d been all day. His game could wait.

Things had not gone smoothly that morning. Getting my fifteen-month-old and my new baby ready to go anywhere was still an adjustment for me. I was relieved to see a parking space right across the street from the medical clinic. With a little luck I would still be on time for the baby’s first check-up.
It wasn’t easy to climb out of our small car and cross the street with a diaper bag, a baby in an infant seat, and a toddler who was just taking her first steps alone. As we prepared to cross the street I noticed our car was very close to the driveway of the house we had parked in front of. I saw a curtain move and a face peering out, but I quickly turned away. “It’s not fair,” I reasoned; “I’ve had to rush around all morning and all she’s had to do is look out the window daring someone to park too close to her driveway.”
The long wait in the waiting room, my fussy baby, and my restless toddler all made me feel even more frustrated when I emerged from the clinic an hour later. Just as I was about to cross the street, the woman, about seventy years old, came rushing out of her house. All my morning’s frustration came to the surface; expecting harsh words from her, I felt I would either burst into tears or explode in anger.
Then it happened. Her words astonished me. “You poor little dear,” she said. “I’ve been watching for you. I was mad at myself for not coming out to help you when you drove up. Let me help you to your car. You’ve really got your hands full.”
Tears filled my eyes as I realized how quickly and how wrongly I had judged her. I had let my unhappy attitude determine the way I viewed her.
Since then, when tempted to judge someone’s motives, I remember that woman’s actions and try to expect the best.

Everyone knows that computers are useful tools. You can play games, send E-mail to friends, even type up term papers for your European history class. But Laurels in the Aliso Creek Ward, Santa Margarita California Stake, know an even better way to use a computer.
“I looked up my parents in the Ancestral File™ [at her local family history center] on the computer and found the names of thousands of my ancestors. It was really neat!” says 18-year-old Rebecca Hope.
Liz Chocco, another Laurel, prepared the names of two deceased family members and was then baptized for them in the San Diego Temple.
“The Spirit was so strong,” says Liz. “I felt that these two relatives were actually there. I felt an eternal bond with them. The phrase ‘families are forever’ became real to me in the temple.”

In 1959 I received that invitation. I did not even know of this, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. At a dance I met a young lady who was raised in the gospel. I was attracted to her. She said to me, “You know, I could never consider marrying you unless it were in the temple.” I responded to that invitation and was taught the gospel. She is now my eternal companion. I will ever be grateful that was the invitation she extended to me, for it has transformed my life.

My wife, Jill, and I recently witnessed this truth in the faithful lives of Holly and Rick Porter, whose 12-year-old son, Trey, passed away in a tragic fire. With hands and feet severely burned in a heroic attempt to save her dear son, Holly later testified in ward sacrament meeting of the great peace and joy the Lord had poured out upon her family in their anguish, using words such as miraculous, incredible, and amazing.

This precious mother’s unbearable grief was replaced by surpassing peace with this thought: “My hands are not the hands that save. Those hands belong to the Savior! Instead of looking at my scars as a reminder of what I was not able to do, I remember the scars my Savior bears.”

Holly’s witness fulfills our prophet’s promise: “As you think celestial, you will view trials and opposition in a new light.”

I was determined to have a bad attitude as my mom picked my brother and me up from school and drove us downtown. It was Christmastime, and I was supposed to be shopping with my friends. Instead, I was headed to a homeless shelter in our city to help fulfill an assignment that our stake had been given to clean the shelter and serve food to the people there.
When we arrived, my mood darkened as I was assigned to clean out the industrial-size refrigerator, which had recently been left open and now had all sorts of mold growing inside. I rolled my eyes and sighed in disgust at the green mess before me. With rubber gloves up to my elbows, I started scrubbing halfheartedly.
As I worked, a small boy in worn clothes stepped out of the food line to watch my progress. He stood at the door and simply smiled at me. And then without a word, he walked away. I was touched as I watched him go, and a scripture came to my mind: “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Matthew 25:40).
“How well would I clean if I were doing this for Christ?” I thought to myself. “How hard would I work for Him?”
A smile spread across my face, and I turned back to my task. And with new perspective, I scrubbed the fridge until it shined.

The closest temple for the saints in Brazzaville is currently in Kinshasa, in the DRC. Getting there has not always been easy.
“We organized massive trips to the temple in Kinshasa, which meant we had to brave the challenge of crossing the turbulent river with our families,” said President Gayouele. “It was also during a time when our country was going through a severe recession. Families were destitute, but for these trips, members made enormous sacrifices to pay for the tickets for crossing the river, meals, and accommodation. There were so many of us leaving for the temple that very often there was no more room for us in the Kinshasa temple. Some brothers and sisters had to stay outside the temple and wait for their turn. These trips were sometimes trials of faith and determination for temple ordinances. Eventually, these trips have enabled us to bring the spirit of the temple into the hearts of Church members.”

It was a beautiful September day with a warm sun shining. It was only the beginning of the school year, but I was already anxious to finish high school and seminary forever.
“And this scripture I want you to mark with a star,” said Brother Eliason, my seminary teacher. It was Genesis 39:9 [Gen. 39:9], and I automatically marked the scripture, emphasizing “… how then can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?” We went on to verse 12 [Gen. 39:12] and marked “… fled, and got him out.” Then I drew a star in the margin, which was Brother Eliason’s code for “Very Important Scripture.”
He told us about Joseph’s situation and how it took a great deal of strength for him to run away from Potiphar’s wife. Joseph knew he was in a situation where he needed to have made his decision beforehand. Then Brother Eliason said, “If you ever remember a scripture in your life, remember this one.”
Soon, that day was over, then that week, the month, and then the year. I was planning to go to college, but my plans changed drastically when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. She and my stepfather and I moved to a small apartment close to the hospital she needed.
My stepfather and I took turns driving Mom to the hospital. The medical treatment made her terribly sick, and soon she lost all of her hair. She had been a strong woman who had survived the death of her first husband and the problems of bringing two families together when she married my stepfather, so to see her so weak was very depressing for me.
I enrolled in a community college to take classes and get out of the house, and it was there that I met Ron. He was the friend I needed, and we soon started spending all of our time together. He was older, although he’d never been married, and he had a nice car, a house, and a boat. He was not a member of the Church.
It was easy to forget my problems at home when I was with him, because we did so many fun things together. He even came to church with me regularly. But soon he was suggesting that we spend the night together, since that was the way his relationships usually progressed. I repeatedly told him about my religious conviction against this, but he didn’t give up.
I needed a friend, and I mistakenly continued to see him. I started to weaken at the same time I knew being with him was wrong. I was weak and vulnerable, and it because easier to ignore the Spirit.
Then one night, in one of my weakest times, I started to rationalize. I believe that Ron loved me, and I knew he could take care of me. I suddenly felt very secure in his arms. Then I heard a voice in my head that said, “… fled, and got him out.” I was startled that I would remember that phrase after all that time. Then the voice seemed to come even louder, “… fled, and got him out.” Without another thought I literally fled from the room and the situation.
When my head cleared, I could see how close I had come to making a mistake that would have changed my life forever. I could see how Satan used my emotions to cloud my judgment, and I could also see how one scripture had saved my life.
I often wonder if Brother Eliason knew the impact of what he was teaching us on that ordinary fall day. I am thankful for him and for both a Heavenly Father and an earthly father who love me more than Ron ever did. And I’m thankful for the scriptures—especially for the one I remembered so well.

Then one morning, he found an entire hive was empty. The bee colony had left!

Joseph searched the neighbourhood, with no luck. “Sometimes the queen [bee] just decides to leave and take her colony with her,” he explains. “Sometimes you can find them, and sometimes you can’t.”

He knew once a colony has left its hive, it’s unlikely that it will ever return. Also, bees never take over another colony’s hive. For these reasons, beekeepers tend to keep many hives—but Joseph only had two.

Tragically, a couple of months later, his second beehive was also abandoned.

Joseph was heartbroken: “I was so sad. I really felt like I had lost something.”

He hung up his beekeeper suit and went to tell his wife, Atelaite, the bad news. “Our bees are gone,” Joseph said to her. She encouraged him to pray.

From that morning, the couple prayed fervently, every day, for their bees. They would thank Heavenly Father for the privilege of having raised bees, and for the joy the experience had brought them, and then they’d prayed for a miracle—that the bees might somehow return.

After almost two weeks, however, Joseph began to lose faith. He told Atelaite he was ready to take down his empty hives and just purchase new bees in the next season. “These things happen,” he said to her. “Let’s just let nature take its course.”

But Atelaite wasn’t ready to give up. She had the words of Amulek in her heart: “Yea, humble yourselves, and continue in prayer unto him. …

“Cry unto him over the crops of your fields, that ye may prosper in them.

“Cry over the flocks of your fields, that they may increase (Alma 34:19, 24–25).

She did not stop praying.

One Saturday morning, Joseph noticed bees hovering above the flowerbeds in his garden. With the eyes of a trained beekeeper, he saw that many were carrying pollen, and that their flight path headed towards his hives.

Joseph hurried to put on his beekeeping suit and went to investigate. Bees swarmed especially around one of his hives, and when he opened it, it was filled with thousands of busy bees.

Joseph shed tears and said a quiet prayer of gratitude. He looked for the queen bee and thanked her for bringing her colony to this hive. Then he ran into the house to tell Atelaite.

“I said, ‘Honey, guess what? The bees have come back!’” He hugged and kissed his wife, and then told her, “Your faith is greater than mine.”

To this day, Joseph doesn’t know if the bees in his hive now are the same bees that left it, or if a new colony took over the hive. As neither situation is likely, he only knows that a miracle happened, and it was preceded by faith.

“I almost doubted and just, let nature take its course,” Joseph says, “but my wife never did. I have learned to never give up on our prayers and to trust in Heavenly Father. A miracle won’t always happen, but when it does, it brings great joy.”

Included in his dreams was a desire to be a student body president. He got over his miserable junior high defeat and decided that he would run when he got to high school. But just a short time before he was to announce his candidacy, his best friend told him he’d decided to run and asked Greg to be his campaign manager. Greg complied and helped him win, deciding that he could run for the office when he got to Ricks College.