Gospel Story Finder

1838 My brother Don Carlos and my cousin George A. Smith returned [from missions through Kentucky and Tennessee], having traveled fifteen hundred miles—nine hundred on foot, and the remainder by steamboat and otherwise. They visited several branches, and would have accomplished the object of their mission had it not been for the troubles at Far West.
When nearly home they were known and pursued by the mob, which compelled them to travel one hundred miles in two days and nights. The ground at the time was slippery, and a severe northwest wind was blowing in their faces; they had but little to eat and narrowly escaped freezing both nights.

Latter-day Saints also have a presence at West Point, the U.S. Army’s academy in upstate New York, and at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. Consider this story about Midshipman Blake G. Jacobson:
One night while he was on watch, his upperclassman asked why the ring he wore bore the initials CTR instead of BGJ. Jacobson explained that the ring is often worn by members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, and that CTR stands for Choose the Right. The upperclassman already knew Jacobson doesn’t smoke, drink, or swear.
A few days later, during a company inspection, the upperclassman suddenly yelled out, “Mr. Jacobson, what does it say on that ring you’re wearing?”
Jacobson was surprised, but barked out, “CTR, sir!”
“And what do those letters stand for, Mr. Jacobson?”
“Choose the Right, sir!”
“Correct. Men, from now on those letters are our company motto!”
From then on, the company chanted, “Choose the Right, left, Choose the Right, left,” as they marched around academy grounds. (Story submitted by Joe and Glo Jensen.)

Derek saw paw prints in the snow. What animal made them? Derek followed the paw prints down the sidewalk. He looked around and saw Mrs. Lawson walking slowly across the ice. Derek held her hand and helped her into her house. The paw prints kept going, and Derek followed them. He spotted Mr. Russell shoveling snow. Derek stopped to help him shovel. Then Derek saw more paw prints! He followed them and peeked into Mr. Russell’s backyard. There was Cloudy, Mr. Russell’s cat! Derek likes following things. Most of all, he likes following the example of Jesus by helping others.

In 1985 Sister Sitati and I met a man named Roger Howard in Nairobi, Kenya. He and his wife, Eileen, were serving as a senior missionary couple. They invited us to join a small congregation that met in their home. It was the first time we had attended a meeting of members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We felt the Spirit at that first meeting, and since then we have attended church every Sunday.
A few months later, Roger baptized us, together with our nine-year-old son. Soon afterward, Roger and Eileen returned home at the end of their mission. We continued to hear from them every few years.
Early in 2010, Sister Sitati and I finally saw Roger again. He was now approaching 90 years old. Worn with old age and poor health, he leaned heavily on his walker. As we stood facing each other for the first time in so many years, we felt a mutual joy beyond description. Tears rolled freely as we tenderly embraced. We felt a deep gratitude for each other and for the marvelous gift of the gospel. We were united in faith as fellow citizens in the kingdom of God.
As I savored that moment, a scripture came to mind: “Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God; …
“And if it so be that you should labor all your days in crying repentance unto this people, and bring, save it be one soul unto me, how great shall be your joy with him in the kingdom of my Father!” (D&C 18:10, 15).
Roger passed on later that year. I had the distinct feeling that he was a man at peace with God. He had profoundly touched our lives by sharing the gospel. His example of consecrated service to his fellow men, along with that of the great army of young and senior missionaries serving in the Church, demonstrates one way we honor God.

We need not worry about knowing the right thing to say or do when we get there. The love of God and the Holy Spirit may be enough. When I was a young man I feared that I would not know what to do or to say to people in great need.
Once I was at the hospital bedside of my father as he seemed near death. I heard a commotion among the nurses in the hallway. Suddenly, President Spencer W. Kimball walked into the room and sat in a chair on the opposite side of the bed from me. I thought to myself, “Now here is my chance to watch and listen to a master at going to those in pain and suffering.”
President Kimball said a few words of greeting, asked my father if he had received a priesthood blessing, and then, when Dad said that he had, the prophet sat back in his chair.
I waited for a demonstration of the comforting skills I felt I lacked and so much needed. After perhaps five minutes of watching the two of them simply smiling silently at each other, I saw President Kimball rise and say, “Henry, I think I’ll go before we tire you.”
I thought I had missed the lesson, but it came later. In a quiet moment with Dad after he recovered enough to go home, our conversation turned to the visit by President Kimball. Dad said quietly, “Of all the visits I had, that visit I had from him lifted my spirits the most.”
President Kimball didn’t speak many words of comfort, at least that I could hear, but he went with the Spirit of the Lord as his companion to give the comfort. I realize now that he was demonstrating the lesson President Monson taught: “How does one magnify a calling? Simply by performing the service that pertains to it.”

My friend Donna grew up desiring to marry and raise a large family. But that blessing never came. Instead she spent her adult years serving the people in her ward with unmeasured compassion and counseling disturbed children in a large school district. She had crippling arthritis and many long, blue days. Yet she always lifted and was always lifted by her friends and family. Once when teaching about Lehi’s dream, she said with gentle humor, “I’d put myself in that picture on the strait and narrow path, still holding to the iron rod but collapsed from fatigue right on the path.” In an inspired blessing given just before her death, Donna’s home teacher said the Lord “accepted” her. Donna cried. She had never felt her single life was acceptable. But the Lord said those who “observe their covenants by sacrifice … are accepted of me.” I can envision Him walking the path from the tree of life to lift Donna up with gladness and carry her home.

Heber J. Grant was the first President of the Church I had the privilege of meeting. He was truly a great man. We admired him because part of his strength was his great determination for self-mastery. His father died when he was only a year old, and his widowed mother struggled to raise him. He was conscientious in helping her and trying to take care of her.
“When he was older and wanted to join a baseball team, … the other [boys laughed] at him, … calling him a ‘sissy’ because he could not throw the ball between the bases. His teammates teased him so much that … he … made up his mind that he was going to play with the nine who would win the championship of the Territory of Utah. He purchased a baseball and practiced hour after hour, throwing at a neighbor’s old barn. Often his arm would ache so much he could hardly … sleep at night. He kept on practicing and … improving and advancing from one team to another until he finally [succeeded] in playing [on] the team that won the territorial championship!”

Like most of the youth on Takaroa, Tetuarere works on the pearl farms. He has to get up as early as 4:30 a.m., and he spends the day diving and swimming, lifting heavy strings of oysters into boats. Others, like young women (right) Hinanui Tehina, 14, and Tapiu Tino, 15, work all day long tying oysters to nylon strings so that others can put them back in the water. That’s how the pearls are grown, and that helps keep the economy alive on Takaroa. “We are needed here,” Tapiu explains. She went to boarding school for a while but found there were a lot of negative influences, so she returned to be with her family, surrounded by those she loves.

A taxicab driver in Washington, D.C., displayed a picture of his two children on the sun visor in front of him. “They are beautiful children,” I said. “You must love them very much to carry their photos in your cab. I have children, too, and grandchildren, and I miss them when I’m away from them.”
“Why are you away?”
“I’m here for Church meetings. Are you a religious man?”
“Yes, ma’am. I am a Christian.”
“So am I! That’s wonderful!” I said. “You and I are alike in two ways—we both love our children, and we both are Christian.”
“Ma’am, do you believe in the Holy Spirit?” he asked.
“I do. I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
He looked puzzled.
“Have you heard of the Mormons?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s another name for our Church,” I explained. “We believe in God, the Eternal Father, and in His Son, Jesus Christ, and in the Holy Ghost.”
That started a discussion based on the first five articles of faith. The fifth article of faith led to our talking about the authority and power to seal families forever. This interested him—he had seen the beautiful Washington Temple.
I asked him if he’d like to know more. He said that he would, and he agreed to listen to the missionaries. I had him write his name and address for me, and as soon as I reached my hotel, I telephoned the mission office and gave his name to the elder who answered.

Peter Jeppson took the gasoline pump hose out of his tank and with a quick twist of his wrist, secured the tank cap. It was late Saturday night, and he had stopped for gasoline on his way home from his date. He was still thinking of his best friend’s news—a mission call. Peter, himself, would be sending in his own papers in just a few weeks.
As Peter drove through an intersection into the traffic on the main highway leading into Boise, Idaho, his car smashed head-on into another. On impact, the windshield of his car was knocked out and shattered on the street. The full gas tank located in the front of his rear-engined car burst.
Gas sloshed up the hood right through the open window catching me right in the eyes, covering me and the inside of the car completely. Somehow flames were ignited, and the car burst into a blazing fire. It was then that some people who were passing by saw the accident and quickly stopped. Three men were able to get close enough to my car to open the door. The flames were two times as high as the car. They couldn’t find me because the flames were so intense. They threw their coats in the open car door to cover the flames until they could see my hand. The three of them grabbed my hand and pulled me from the wreckage. They rolled me over and over to put out the fire.
Peter had borrowed his brother’s thick, Scottish wool sweater for his date that night. The trunk of his body and his arms down to the wrists, the areas covered by the sweater, were the only parts not burned. It was the fact that he was wearing this sweater that saved his life.
In 1965, Peter was living in his hometown of Boise, Idaho, preparing for a mission like many of his friends. The day of the accident changed all that. He was forced into an experience that would test him to the limit. And it was his triumph over adversity that changed his life.

After my childhood challenges, I am confident that Heavenly Father knew exactly what I needed to enable me to trust my eternal companion. He placed many steadfast examples of fatherhood in my life. These included my righteous grandfather, who loved the Lord, and a diligent home teacher who—understanding my family’s financial limitations—took me on as a student at his art studio and inspired me to follow in his footsteps professionally. In my young adult life, heavenly healing was also delivered through the unexpected blessing of gaining a righteous stepfather, who was patient with my hesitancy to trust a father figure and who continually showed me kindness.
A watercolor painted by the author of her husband and daughter. She was inspired to pursue art by her home teacher—one of the father figures in her life.

Hannah sat under the kitchen table, crying softly.
“What’s wrong, Hannah?” Mama asked.
“I can’t do anything right.”
Mama got under the table with her and held her close. “That’s not true.”
“Yes it is. I’m always making mistakes and having accidents.”
Mama thought a moment. Then she helped Hannah out from under the table. “Come with me,” she said. They went to the hallway mirror and looked at their reflections. “Do you know what I see, Hannah?”
Hannah stared at her reflection. “What?” she asked, still sniffling.
“A very important person who’s loved very much.”
Hannah smiled a little.
“And I see a beautiful smile, too. Daddy and I love you because you are special just the way you are.”
“But I can’t do anything right,” Hannah protested. “I spill my milk. I can’t tie my own shoes or button my shirt. I can’t even write all of my ABCs.”
“Hannah, you do a lot of things really well,” Mama reassured her. “You draw beautiful pictures of flowers and animals. You always talk kindly to our neighbor, Mrs. Green. And how could I hang the laundry on the clothesline without you there to hand me the clothespins? You’re my helper.”
When Hannah still didn’t look convinced, Mama went to the closet and got out a picture album. She led Hannah to the sofa and opened the album. “Do you know who this baby is?” Mama asked.
Hannah smiled. “That’s me.” She loved looking at these pictures.
“And what a good baby you were! You couldn’t do anything for yourself yet, so Daddy and I fed you when you were hungry, washed you when you were dirty, and loved you with all our hearts.”
Hannah studied the picture.
Mama turned several pages. “This photo was taken when you were about one. You were just beginning to walk.”
“Did I fall a lot?” Hannah asked.
“Yes, you did. But you always got up and tried again. Now you can run and jump and dance beautiful dances.”
They browsed on through the book and saw many pictures of Hannah. In each photo, she was a little older and able to do more things by herself.
“Everything we learn to do must be practiced over and over before we can do it well,” Mama said. “But remember that we will always love you, no matter what you can or can’t do.”
“Just like Heavenly Father loves us—just the way we are.” Hannah remembered learning this in Primary.
“That’s right. Heavenly Father loves us even when we’re not perfect. But He also helps us grow,” she added, hugging her special Hannah.

Many unselfish children of God are involved in teaching efforts, also worldwide. A good example, known to us through our humanitarian efforts, is the activity of a man known as Mr. Gabriel, who has been a refugee from various conflicts on several occasions. He recently observed that hundreds of thousands of refugee children in East Africa needed help to keep their hopes alive and their minds active. He organized other teachers in the refugee population into what they called “tree schools,” where children were gathered for lessons under the shade of a tree. He did not wait for others to organize or direct but personally led efforts that have provided learning opportunities for thousands of primary school children during stressful years of displacement.

I’d like to share with you an example of the tender mercies of the Lord through an experience that occurred in my beloved home island of Puerto Rico.
It was in my hometown of Ponce that a sister in the Church, Célia Cruz Ayala, decided that she was going to give a Book of Mormon to a friend. She wrapped it and went to deliver this gift, more precious to her than diamonds or rubies, she said. On her way, a thief approached her, grabbed her purse, and ran away with the special gift inside.
When she told this story at church, her friend said, “Who knows? Maybe this was your opportunity to share the gospel!”
Well, a few days later, do you know what happened? Célia received a letter. I hold that letter, which Célia shared with me, in my hand today. It says:
“Mrs. Cruz:
“Forgive me, forgive me. You will never know how sorry I am for attacking you. But because of it, my life has changed and will continue to change.
“That book [the Book of Mormon] has helped me in my life. The dream of that man of God has shaken me. … I am returning your five [dollars,] for I can’t spend them. I want you to know that you seemed to have a radiance about you. That light seemed to stop me [from harming you, so] I ran away instead.
“I want you to know that you will see me again, but when you do, you won’t recognize me, for I will be your brother. … Here, where I live, I have to find the Lord and go to the church you belong to.
“The message you wrote in that book brought tears to my eyes. Since Wednesday night I have not been able to stop reading it. I have prayed and asked God to forgive me [and] I ask you to forgive me. … I thought your wrapped gift was something I could sell. [Instead,] it has made me want to [change] my life. … Forgive me, forgive me, I beg you.
“Your absent friend.”
As for the unintended recipient of Célia’s gift, the Book of Mormon, this brother went on to witness more of the Lord’s mercy. Although it took time for this brother to forgive himself, he found joy in repentance. What a miracle! One faithful sister, one Book of Mormon, sincere repentance, and the Savior’s power led to the enjoyment of the fulness of blessings of the gospel and sacred covenants in the house of the Lord. Other family members followed and accepted sacred responsibilities in the Lord’s vineyard, including full-time missionary service.

Elder Michael Mátyás of Redmond, Washington, who was serving in Veszprém, remembers the first copy he gave out. It was to Sister Petö Éva, a member of about six months. Sister Petö had to leave the meeting before the announcement was made. “I stopped her and said, ‘I know you have to go, but before you go, there’s something I want to give you.’ And I gave her a copy of the Book of Mormon. She started crying then. Since that was the first one I had given out, it was fairly emotional for me, too,” he says.

In 1992, just three years after Naume and I were married, we were struggling with the basic necessities of life. A friend?—Jerry D. Hymas from San Diego, California, USA?—taught me a self-reliance principle that has made a difference in our lives, even in times of Zimbabwe’s economic meltdown, which we experienced from 2000 to 2008. Jerry said to me, “Eddie, here is a formula for financial success that has worked for me over the years and has enabled me to retire early. When you receive your paycheck, you (1) pay tithing, ten percent; (2) pay ten percent to yourself; and (3) save ten percent for emergency purposes.” Then he looked at me and said, “Never spend money you do not have.”
Naume and I have always paid our tithing and enjoyed the promised blessings, but we did not know about the other 20 percent he shared with me. Since then, Naume and I tried to the best of our ability to follow this model, and it has blessed us tremendously.
I recommend this to anyone, especially young adults and young couples. Navigating through life may seem daunting, but moving forward with faith and with a vision will help you reach your full potential. One has to have a financial plan. President M. Russell Ballard, Acting President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, promised, “When one learns to master the principles of setting a goal, he will then be able to make a great difference in the results he attains in this life.”1
For purposes of simplicity. here is what I would teach my grandchildren: I would teach them what to do with a dollar. I would teach them that their financial ability depends on what they do with a dollar. From the onset they would need to understand two challenges of life:
The development of their full potential.
The wise use of all their resources.
Most people, including myself, have gone through life saying, “If I had more money, I would have a better plan.” What I failed to grasp is that if I had a better plan, I would have sufficient money. While Jerry Hymas in 1992 taught me the plan of financial prosperity, this plan actually was taught by our loving Father in Heaven, in the Old Testament when He said, “Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth” (Genesis 1:28).
If you have a dollar never spend more than 70 cents. If my grandchildren—wherever they may be, or in any circumstance they may be in—if they could just grasp this principle, never spend more than 70 cents of each dollar which comes their way, through gifts or labor they will prosper. They will understand what the Lord said, “the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare” (D&C 104:17).
These principles will bless all of us: those who are currently employed need to plan for the future as well as those of us who are struggling in life and surviving hand to mouth. This concept would be a great blessing and help in being self-reliant. My suggestions on where to begin would be this:
Ten cents is for the Lord. Pay tithing. President Russell M. Nelson taught: “To develop enduring faith, and enduring commitment to be a full-tithe payer is essential. Initially it takes faith to tithe. Then the tithe payer develops more faith to the point that tithing becomes a precious privilege.”2 This life-changing teaching from the Lord’s prophet is very true.
Ten cents is forcapital. Put it somewhere where you cannot access it or use it. This could be for 10, 15, or more years. When I think of this ten cents, I am reminded of my mother. She would sift through very good ground nuts and maize and put some aside for seeds. She would fumigate—or we were made to believe, so that we would not be tempted to roast that maize and eat those ground nuts when we were hungry. Mother never used the seeds, even in the dire situations. She would rather have us go without than to eat those seeds. They were to be planted in the following rainy season and have them multiply. She would do the same in each harvest. She was never dependent on government handouts.
Ten cents helps to make sure that you would not buy anything in credit—except for a house. When one invests this ten cents, its having someone else use it with an interest to yourself. It’s not the amount that counts, it’s the PLAN!
Do this and watch the numbers change and fulfill your Heavenly Father’s blessing to you, be fruitful! In reality it is not more of what we will get, but what we are becoming. Our forebearers saw what they would become.
During the Great Depression in the United States of America, the Lord’s prophet, seer and revelator declared: “Our primary purpose was to set up, in so far as it might be possible, a system under which the curse of idleness would be done away with, the evils of a dole abolished, and independence, industry, thrift and self-respect be once more established amongst our people. The aim of the Church is to help the people to help themselves. Work is to be re-enthroned as the ruling principle of the lives of our Church membership.”3 This principle has blessed lives inside and outside the Church throughout the world.
My humble invitation to you is to rise and be fruitful.

We four missionaries had just left the home of a senior missionary couple when we waved down a bus to take us back to our areas.
We shouldered through a standing-room-only crowd and grabbed the metal bar above our heads. Standing, we soon had to lean our bodies over the seated passengers to make room for other passengers crowding in.
A middle-aged woman sat below me, her lap piled with shopping bags and boxes. Her dark eyes told me she was tired, and her long face spoke of her discomfort sitting in a crowded bus moving through the sticky, hot Panamanian air.
Closing my eyes, I imagined that I could smell the Chinese food my mom and sisters were preparing for Christmas Eve dinner. I also imagined that I could hear the Christmas music Mom always played. Those comforting thoughts soon washed away the heat and humidity, and I began to hum a Christmas carol. The eyes of the woman below me lightened a shade. I gained courage and started singing a Christmas hymn to myself in Spanish. Elder Glazier joined me, and then we fell silent.
“Please, don’t stop,” the woman said, her eyes tearing up.
Looking at my companions, I pulled out my hymnbook.
“Brothers and sisters,” I called out over the din of the bus. As my companions also grabbed their hymnbooks, I added, “We would like to sing some Christmas songs to share the spirit of Christmas with you—a small message from missionaries of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
We sang every Christmas hymn in the Spanish hymnbook. We weren’t a heavenly choir, but the power of the music and words about the Savior’s birth touched hearts. The excitement of serving in the mission field during Christmas filled the four of us elders with peace, joy, and light.
We sang until we reached our stop. The woman below me cheered and said, “Thank you, Christmas singers!”
After stepping off the bus, we waved goodbye to the crowded vehicle. Passengers applauded as the bus pulled away, and we climbed a hill into the tropical night. I always look back at that night with gratitude for the woman who gave us an opportunity to testify of the Savior through song.

A few years ago, on the day of my parents’ anniversary, my mom was diagnosed with a stage 4 pancreatic cancer. The results of her CT scan showed that her cancer was life-threatening and her body was deteriorating. It was in that moment that I knew my mom wouldn’t live much longer.
I was not ready for that. I foresaw what life would be without my mom. Everything was dark, gloomy, and sad. There was no more joy or laughter—and no warm hugs from my mom that would comfort me. There didn’t seem to be life at all.
Months passed by and my mom’s body continued to weaken. But what amazed me the most was her desire to go to church, participate in our daily family scripture study, give lessons in our family home evenings, and even laugh with us.
One day, I asked her, “Haven’t you questioned Heavenly Father? Haven’t you wondered why you have to have cancer?” My mom smiled and shared her testimony about the plan of salvation. She told me that I needed to understand the plan of salvation to feel the genuine happiness that it gives. She said if I understood where we come from, what our purpose in this life is, and where we are going, I would understand that we will always be together, that I would never really lose her. She encouraged me to continue preparing for a mission and to share the gospel of Jesus Christ and the plan of salvation with others so that they could receive the blessings of comfort and happiness as well.
I realized that my mom was right. Why would I fear losing her here on earth if I knew that as long as I kept my covenants and completed the will of the Father that I would see her in the next life? I felt peaceful.
A little while later, my mom passed away. During my mom’s wake—a celebration of her life we held before her burial—even though it was hard and I was sad, everything seemed peaceful, and I could still feel my mom’s presence. Even the people around me seemed to be uplifted. I knew that I was feeling the true blessing of understanding God’s divine plan.
Later, when it was time to take my mom to the cemetery, a young boy came up to me and asked me why I wasn’t crying. I remembered how I thought of my mom’s death before and how I had only seen a lot of sadness and grief. I smiled and knelt down to his level. I told him, “I know that I will see my mom again if I continue to follow God’s commandments.” The boy smiled too, and I knew that he felt the same peace I was feeling.
My mom was gone, but the darkness, gloom, and sadness I thought would fill my life weren’t present. I said goodbye to her and told her that we would see each other in the next life. I felt comforted despite our loss. It was a blessing that came from understanding the plan of salvation.

For William Wood the hike home across the foggy November English countryside was hard work—emotionally. The teenage butcher’s apprentice had just lost his job. And at a time when good jobs were hard to find! Inside he hurt—or maybe it was anger. Hadn’t he done a good job for Mr. Biaxall? Still, William was fired simply because he had become a Latter-day Saint. And as he trudged along he worried about his parents’ reaction to his changed circumstances.

Mr. Blaxall, whose family had shared their church pew with William on many Sundays, likewise tried to reconvert his young apprentice. Deep discussions, however, changed neither person. Finally, fearing loss of such important customers as the local parson, Mr. Blaxall gave William two choices: “Either quit Mormonism or find another job.”

“Sir,” answered the youth, “I will never give up my faith but will leave your service.”

Jobless, the disappointed new convert now had to explain his new situation to his parents, who had recently moved to Queensborough on the Isle of Sheppey in the mouth of the Thames River. His greatest desire now was to immigrate to Zion like many British converts had done, and along the way he tried to think of ways to earn enough money to reach Utah. While he waited for a ferry to take him across the mouth of the Thames, a verse from the Doctrine and Covenants suddenly burned itself into his mind, promising him that the Lord is bound when His children do what He says. William reflected upon that promise and decided then and there to place full trust in it. He “prayed to the Lord in my humble way, and told Him I would never recant, praying that I should succeed in obtaining employment and better wages to enable me to reach Zion.”

Minutes after his ferry docked at Sheerness on the Isle of Sheppey, William was warmly welcomed by his parents to their new dwelling. But upon learning how he lost his job, they pleaded with him to quit Mormonism and to return to Mr. Blaxall’s employment. “My dear mother was broken-hearted,” William said. They fretted about his loss of wages and found no comfort in his religious optimism. “I told them I was in the hands of God and inasmuch as I had obeyed His commands I had faith that I would obtain employment.”

Putting faith to work, William job-hunted around the island with his father’s help. He discovered that the Sheerness docks were extremely busy due to the war then raging in the Crimea (across the Black Sea from Turkey) where British, French, and Turkish forces battled Russian troops. “Everything was in excitement,” he recalled. “Merchants were making lots of money. The English navy was seeking men by offering bounties, and nearly all the naval ports were full of business.”

A butcher named Fillmore, with a contract to supply meat to British military units, thought William too young and inexperienced to employ. But after watching the teenager demonstrate his meat-cutting skills, the butcher hired him. The wages? More than double the amount paid by Mr. Blaxall! “I believe to this day,” William wrote 60 years later, “that the increases of wages … was a blessing from the Lord because I would not recant Mormonism and in answer to my prayers and for a fixed determination to gather to the valleys of the mountains.”

Recently, I had the blessing of meeting Patriarch James R. Boone and his wife Ruth in Jacksonville, Florida. Their odyssey to happiness has come through their faithfulness to the redeeming principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ and in being the parents of thirteen children. Four children—David, Elaine, Melinda, and Martha—presently attend this University and may be in this audience. Brother and Sister Boone’s happiness was not complete with only thirteen children, so they adopted another one—Sammy, now age three, making fourteen. In their Christmas letter of this year, they said of Sammy, number fourteen, “He is very special, this boy.” I was at a conference meeting when Sister Boone was released as president of the stake Relief Society after having served faithfully and well for twelve years. In this family, among the children in one generation, there have been eleven full-time missionaries, and nine of the boys have earned Eagle Scouts, which may be a national record. Patriarch and Sister Boone have great joy and rejoicing in their posterity, who at this point number an even fifty. Time, I am sure, will do much to increase the measure of their joy and rejoicing.