Gospel Story Finder

A friend of mine was recently released as the bishop of his ward. A few days later, knowing I had also served as a bishop, he asked to speak to me.
“Is it normal to feel what I’m feeling?” he asked.
“What are you feeling?”
“Disconnected, I guess. I have been involved in so many people’s lives, and now all of a sudden, it’s over. Will I ever feel so involved again?”
His question took me back to the time of my own release. I remembered having similar feelings. I missed being deeply involved in helping people draw nearer to the Savior and to their Father in Heaven. I missed encouraging them to seek and follow the inspiration of the Holy Ghost. Serving as a bishop had been a wonderful blessing, and now it was gone.
But was it really? As a little time passed, I realized that the blessing of giving service never disappears. It is an abiding opportunity. As disciples of Jesus Christ, aren’t we always to remember Him? (see D&C 20:77, 79). Aren’t we always to help others draw nearer to the Savior and to their Father in Heaven? Aren’t we always to help others, especially our spouses and families, seek and follow the inspiration of the Holy Ghost?
As my friend and I talked, we both realized that service doesn’t end when we are released from a calling, whatever that calling may be. For the followers of Christ, service never ends. Soon we receive a new calling, and we begin again as we all move forward together.

Katy Ballenger knows a lot about serving others. Katy has spent countless hours volunteering at Primary Children’s Medical Center and the Shriners’ Hospital in Salt Lake City. She has also given many hours of service to various groups at her school and to elderly neighbors. Katy enjoyed all of her service activities so much, she decided to show her classmates how they could get involved. She formed a club at her school called HUGS (Help Us Give Service), which links students with opportunities to serve.
Katy, a Laurel in the Butler First Ward, Salt Lake Butler Stake, has been recognized by many local and national volunteering organizations for her many accomplishments. She has also had the chance to speak to several groups, including a recent meeting of the national “Community of Caring” organization.
“Although I’m not speaking in a church setting, I always pray to have the Spirit with me when I talk about the importance of service,” says Katy. “When I spoke to the ‘Community of Caring’ people, the Spirit was very strong, even though it wasn’t a church meeting. It was so neat.”

My tourist visa ended and I had to return to Taiwan. During the following months alone, I missed what I had felt. For a time, I was filled with despair and darkness. Those feelings were so overwhelming that I wanted to give up. I didn’t really know how to pray, but I called out to God and told Him everything I was feeling and thinking. A feeling of peace came—the same feeling I had experienced when I had attended our home church. I know it was the Holy Ghost. He calmed me down.

My son Tanner taught me this one day when he was eight years old. Tanner had decided to switch from skiing to snowboarding that year, and it was his first day on the slopes. Now, those of you who have snowboarded know that the first day is typically horrible and painful. In fact, most instructors say that you can’t make a decision about whether you like snowboarding unless you’ve tried it three days, because most people still hate it after the first two days. I still haven’t tried snowboarding, and I’m not sure I ever will. But if I do, I will have to rent one of those giant sumo costumes with all the extra padding just to protect myself from all the falls! I haven’t done it yet.
Well, Tanner’s first day on the snowboard proved to be like most first days—very painful and frustrating. Initially he started down the mountain with his older brother, who knew how to snowboard. But every two or three feet Tanner would fall down, catching a toe and landing on his stomach or sliding his heels too far and landing on his rear end. He was crying and yelling the entire way down the mountain! He got to the point where he didn’t even want to try standing up anymore; instead he just slid down the mountain on his bum. And after what seemed like two hours, he finally reached the bottom of the hill. He was exhausted physically and mentally. He was in pain, and I was very tired of dealing with my cranky son.
Fortunately we were staying in a lodge at the base of the resort, so we decided to take a break. I figured Tanner was done for the day anyway. So, after a good lunch and sitting around a bit, I was surprised when Tanner said he wanted to go out again. I asked him if he remembered what the morning had been like. But he said he wanted to try again anyway. I don’t know what happened, but that afternoon his attitude was completely different. He kept getting up every time he fell, and by the end of the day he could butter down the hill pretty well. And today he can carve a line down any hill his older brothers can ride.

Some classes are very humble indeed. President Kimball and I once attended a seminary class in North Dakota. We did not meet in a fine room with a blackboard and projector and special school chairs. We met in the very small bedroom in a very small house.
The teacher, Sister Two Dogs, sat on the edge of the bed. The students crowded together on the floor. It was no less a class than one held in a beautiful building. The most important ingredient, the Spirit of the Lord, was there. I attended a seminary graduation in Omaha, Nebraska. The speaker, again a young man, described this experience.
“Each morning I awoke to the sweet voice of my mother calling out, ‘John, John, time to get ready for seminary!’ The year rolled on and the mornings grew cold and wet and dark; still the happy voice of Mother would sing out, ‘John, John, time to get up for seminary!’” Then he added, “I learned to hate that sound!”
But then, choking back the tears, he thanked his mother for what she had given him. And I think only later did he realize that she had to be up first every morning.

“Ouch!” Nate cried. “That hurt.”
Meg looked over at her little brother. Mom had brought them to their favorite playground for the afternoon. Nate was digging in the sand near the swings. Now two girls playing near him were throwing toys at him.
“That’s not very nice,” he said. “Please stop.”
The two girls just laughed and kept throwing toys and sand.
Meg was upset. Nate hadn’t done anything to the girls. He had been playing by himself. They should be nicer to him.
Meg looked for Mom. She was talking with other adults on the other side of the playground. Meg worried that by the time she got Mom to come help, Nate would be really hurt.
Meg decided to take care of it herself. She walked over and stood between Nate and the girls. The girls looked surprised. They stopped throwing toys.
“That’s my little brother,” Meg told the girls. “You should be nice to him.” Then Meg had an idea. “What if we play together? Do you know how to play freeze tag?”
One of the girls smiled and said, “That’s my favorite game!”
As the girls ran off toward the field, Nate turned to Meg. “Thanks for helping me. You’re a great sister.”
Meg smiled and hugged him. She was glad she had been able to help her brother.

As Orson continued his search for deeper religious truths, the persuasive voice of Sidney Rigdon soon convinced him to join the Campbellite movement. The new sect’s belief in baptism by immersion for the remission of sins struck a responsive chord in the mind of young Hyde. At Sidney Rigdon’s invitation, Orson moved to Mentor, Ohio, to live with the Rigdon family, where he entered the Burton Academy and was ordained an elder in the Campbellite church. In the fall of 1829 he accompanied Sidney Rigdon on a mission throughout Ohio.
Orson’s beliefs in Campbellism were challenged in 1830 by a group of unusual young men who visited Kirtland. Among these were Oliver Cowdery, Peter Whitmer, Jr., and Parley P. Pratt. Their message concerned the coming forth of the Book of Mormon and the restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Orson received the peculiar doctrine with mixed emotions. He resolved to read the famed “Golden Bible” (Book of Mormon), and after having read a portion of it, preached against it several times. After one such occasion, however, his opinions began to change. He recorded, “For the first time, I thought that the ‘Mormon’ bible might be the truth of heaven; and fully resolved before leaving the house, that I would never preach against it any more until I knew more about it, being pretty strongly convicted in my own mind that I was doing wrong.”1
As he reexamined the message of the Mormon elders, the rebuke of the Spirit caused Orson much unhappiness and deep remorse. The Prophet Joseph Smith was living in Kirtland, and Orson, eager to know the unusual man of whom he had heard so much, frequently attended meetings, public and private, at which the Prophet spoke about the new religion. He attended meetings at which he “heard the arguments pro and con, but was careful to say nothing.” In his autobiography he wrote:
“I marked carefully the spirit that attended the opposition, also the spirit that attended the Mormons and their friends, and after about three months of careful praying and investigation, reflection and meditation, I came to the conclusion that the Mormons had more light and a better spirit than their opponents.”2
Orson was baptized in the Chagrin River by his friend Elder Sidney Rigdon (who had converted to Mormonism), and was then confirmed and ordained an elder by Joseph Smith and Sidney Rigdon on the banks of the river. During the month of November, Orson enthusiastically accepted a call to serve a mission with the Prophet Joseph Smith’s older brother Hyrum. Soon after returning, he was called to serve a second mission to the eastern states, with the Prophet’s younger brother Samuel as his companion. They proselyted without purse or scrip, relying on the hospitality of those contacted for their food and lodging.

An act of service on the part of my neighbors taught me a memorable lesson on the importance of identifying others’ needs and helping to meet them.
As a single mother of three children, I had learned to be rather self-reliant in caring for my family. However, in the spring of 1989, changes in my circumstances brought new challenges. My older son, a returned missionary, was married and serving far away as a United States Navy officer. My daughter and younger son were preparing to leave within two weeks of each other for missionary service. For the first time, I would be alone.
Well, I would not be completely alone—there was Mischa, our large, beautiful Samoyed dog. One of the children took her for a walk every day, but now that they would all be gone, this task would become mine. The problem was, I was scheduled to undergo surgery for bone spurs in my heel, and walking would be extremely painful for at least several weeks.
During one of the last walks my younger son took with Mischa before leaving for the Missionary Training Center, he was stopped by our neighbor. The man said he would walk our dog every day until one of the children returned home.
The first evening our neighbor came to walk Mischa, she would not go with him because he was a stranger. So he stayed and just played with her for about 15 minutes. He came the next night to play with her and make friends, but she still refused to go for a walk. Finally on the third night, she was willing to go, and soon she was waiting impatiently for her new friend each night.
Long after my foot had healed from the surgery and I could have taken over the responsibility, my neighbor continued to walk Mischa. When a night job kept him busy three nights a week, his wife took over. For a year and a half until my daughter returned, these wonderful neighbors walked my dog for at least one hour every night except for three nights when they apologetically took a brief vacation out of town. That totaled more than 547 hours of service!
I am convinced my neighbors were in touch with the Spirit, and I am grateful they identified my need and responded to it. It was not something I would have asked them to do. But given my responsibilities at that time, no other service would have been of greater help to me. Following Alma’s admonition “to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light” (Mosiah 18:8), these neighbors set an example of loving service that will always remain with me.

First, many people will mourn with us; they won’t judge us. Due to severe panic attacks, anxiety, and depression, our son returned home from his mission after just four weeks. As his parents, we found it difficult to deal with disappointment and sadness because we had prayed so much for his success. Like all parents, we want our children to prosper and be happy. A mission was to be an important milestone for our son. We also wondered what other people might think.

Unbeknownst to us, our son’s return was infinitely more devastating for him. Note that he loved the Lord and wanted to serve, and yet he could not for reasons he struggled to understand. He soon found himself at a point of total hopelessness, battling deep guilt. He no longer felt accepted but spiritually numb. He became consumed by recurring thoughts of death.

While in this irrational state, our son believed that the only action left was to take his own life. It took the Holy Ghost and a legion of angels on both sides of the veil to save him.

While he was fighting for his life and during this immensely difficult time, our family, ward leaders, members, and friends went out of their way to support and minister to us.

I have never felt such an outpouring of love. I have never sensed more powerfully and in such a personal way what it means to comfort those in need of comfort. Our family will be ever grateful for that outpouring.

I cannot describe the countless miracles that accompanied these events. Gratefully, our son survived, but it has taken a long time and much medical, therapeutic, and spiritual care for him to heal and to accept that he is loved, valued, and needed.

I recognize that not all such incidents end like ours. I sorrow with those who have lost loved ones far too early and are now left with feelings of grief as well as unanswered questions.

Working Together on Duty to God

John C.

Twelve-year-old John C. and his father often work on projects together. For example, they sewed patches on blankets they will use when they go camping. The patches are from various camps and activities they have attended in British Columbia, Canada, where they live.

“Dad’s a great help,” John says. “I can’t imagine doing Church projects without him.”

When John turned 12, they reviewed the Duty to God booklet together. Soon they came to the “Understand Doctrine” items in the Deacon section. “Dad explained to me about priesthood keys and authority,” John says. And that helped John fulfill one of the requirements.

“When you’re doing Duty to God,” John says, “get your father involved. My dad has already helped me a lot.”

Amy arrived at the city hall at 7:30 a.m., even before Mayor José Murgia Zannier, Trujillo’s mayor for more than 10 years. After being officially installed in her post, she met with Mayor Murgia to go over the day’s schedule and coordinate some details. Thus began her busy day as mayor.
In the mayor’s official vehicle, Amy made a visit to inspect a park where the city plans to build a sports and recreation center. She then visited a public school, where she met with the principal and surveyed the progress on the construction of two classrooms.
Back at city hall, Amy met with an official from the public defenders office and with the director of the San José Children’s Home. Amy quickly decided to send a group of workmen to the children’s home to make some needed repairs. She also received visits from several other schools seeking funding.
At a press conference, Amy launched her teen leadership program, titled “A Challenge for the Future.” Since her program started, teen leaders from more than 100 schools in the city have met monthly with government officials to discuss the needs of education.
Then Amy presided over the city council meeting, opening the session and calling roll. She also planted a tree at the opening of a newly renovated city park and listened to the requests of neighbors living in the area. That evening, she attended a cultural event in one of the town plazas.
It was a busy day for Amy, a young woman one of the local newspapers described as “outstanding in intellect, sobriety, eloquence, and leadership abilities, but most of all in her great goals and objectives.”
The experience Amy had while serving as mayor for a day opened her eyes to the many needs within her community. One of those needs—education—was already a primary focus of Amy’s plans and programs. But Amy realizes that while school is important, there are other aspects of our lives that should take precedence over a secular education.

But think of the day when you must know what God would say and what He would do. It has already come for us all—wherever you are in your calling in the priesthood. I grew up in the mission field in the eastern United States during World War II. The members of the Church lived far apart, and there was strict gas rationing. I was the only deacon in the branch. The members gave their fast-offering envelopes to the branch president when they came to fast and testimony meeting in our home.

When I was 13 years old, we moved to Utah to live in a large ward. I remember my first assignment to walk to homes to collect fast offerings. I looked at the name on one of the envelopes I was given and noticed the last name was the same as one of the Three Witnesses of the Book of Mormon. So I knocked on the door with confidence. The man opened the door, looked at me, scowled, and then barked at me to go away. I went away with my head down.

That was nearly 70 years ago, but I still remember the feeling I had that day on the doorstep that there was something I was supposed to have said or done. If only I had prayed in faith as I went out that day, I might have been inspired to stand a moment longer on that doorstep, smile, and say something like: “It is good to meet you. Thank you for what you and your family have given in the past. I look forward to seeing you next month.”

Had I said and done that, he might have been even more irritated—and even offended. But I know now how I might have felt. Rather than feeling sadness or failure as I walked away, I might have felt the soft commendation in my mind and heart: “Well done.”

The fact that Apii is alive is part of the reason her family joined the Church. When she was eight years old, she was desperately ill with asthma. Missionaries gave her a blessing, and she was healed literally moments later. “I was really weak,” says Apii. “I couldn’t do anything. I hadn’t been able to eat or drink. As soon as the missionaries said amen, I was all right. I opened my eyes and asked for something to drink. Everybody sort of laughed because they were so relieved. I concentrated on the blessing. I knew it would make me better. I was about nine years old when we joined the Church.”

The conversion of Jordan Vajda, a fine young man who had been a Catholic priest, is instructive. When he was in grade school he had Latter-day Saint friends in his class who shared with him their love of the gospel. At age 13 he found an offer from the Church for a free Book of Mormon. He sent for it, and two sister missionaries responded. They were surprised that he was only 13 and had requested the Book of Mormon. He was impressed with what they taught and what he felt, but after discussions with his family, he decided to become a priest in the Catholic Church. As he prepared to be a priest, he remained interested in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

He studied at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California. He became acquainted with many who take the position we are not Christians, but he also associated with the students at the Latter-day Saint institute of religion at Berkeley. He decided to write a master’s thesis on why certain people maintain that we are not Christians. Two of the issues he addressed in his master’s thesis were:

1. The nature of God and our belief that God the Father and His Son Jesus Christ are the two separate individuals the Prophet Joseph beheld in the First Vision.
2. Exaltation and our belief in eternal progression—that we can progress to live with and be like God.

He compared these doctrinal issues with Pre–Nicene Creed early Christian writers and determined that there was significant support for the position of the Church of Jesus Christ. He concluded in his master’s thesis, which has since been published by the Foundation for Ancient Research and Mormon Studies:

Ironically, those who would excoriate Mormons for believing in the doctrine of exaltation actually agree with them that the early church experienced a “great apostasy” on fundamental doctrinal questions.

This was primarily an academic pursuit. He became a priest in the Dominican order and had assignments in Arizona and then at the University of Washington. There he came in contact with our missionaries.

After being taught by missionaries and praying sincerely, he received inspiration that he should resign as a Catholic priest and be baptized and confirmed into the Church of Jesus Christ. His letter of resignation expressed his love and appreciation for the Catholic Church and then stated:

But why am I doing what I am doing? To put it most simply: I have found a fuller truth and goodness and beauty in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. After years of study and reflection, I have come to believe that the LDS Church is the only true and living Church of Jesus Christ, guided and led by living apostles and prophets.

I believe that Joseph Smith is a prophet of God, called and ordained for this, the dispensation of the fullness of times. I love the Book of Mormon; I believe it to be the word of God for us in these latter days.

I can no longer deny my feelings, my heart, my conscience. I cannot deny the confirming witness of the Holy Ghost which has come after much prayer and soul-searching. At this point in my life, at this moment, as I look forward to and prepare for my convert baptism, I have found a happiness greater than I ever imagined possible.

This good man is completely active in the Church, has been to the temple, teaches the Gospel Doctrine class in his ward, and has a management position in a hospital in Seattle.

And Bart knows that no stunning football victory, no league or world championship, could ever match the elation he felt in the mission field when, for example, one of his closest investigators finally saw the gospel light. “His wife and kids were already members,” Bart relates, “and he just didn’t want to make a commitment. We got to be really close, great friends. Then one night I asked him if he would be willing to pray to our Heavenly Father to find out if the Church was true. He agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and the whole family knelt down to pray with him. The Spirit came over us and everyone in the room felt it. I said, ‘Fred, do you know what you’re feeling?’ He couldn’t deny it. I said, ‘You know you want to be baptized,’ and he said, ‘Yes.’”

Greg stared out his bedroom window at the snowflakes fluttering down past the Christmas lights shining from the neighbor’s house. He could hear Christmas carols coming from the radio, and he could smell cookies baking. In four more days it would be Christmas, and he was sad.
He knew that Christmas was supposed to be a happy time. And he did have happy memories. As long as he could remember, his family had spent Christmas at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Grandpa told funny stories. They sang carols and popped popcorn. And they read about the birth of Jesus from the Bible.
But this year Greg would not be seeing his grandparents at Christmas, because they were serving a mission. Why did they have to go away? What’s so important about a mission? he wondered.
The next morning Greg stayed in the house. When he heard the lid drop on the mailbox, he ran out to get the mail. His grandparents had promised to send him a Christmas card. Maybe it had come today.
Greg carried in all of the letters. Most of them were Christmas cards addressed to his parents. But when he sorted through the envelopes again, sure enough, there was one addressed to him in Grandpa’s big handwriting!
Greg also found a blue airmail letter with thin up-and-down writing, addressed to “Mr. Greg Peters,” Who could have sent it? he wondered. It had the same postmark as his grandparents’ card.
Greg hurried to his room and sat on his bed to open the envelopes. On a pretty Christmas card, his grandparents had written, “Merry Christmas! Only four more months until we see you again! We miss you, and Christmas will seem strange without you. But we’re grateful that we can celebrate Jesus’ birthday by teaching others about the gospel. It’s our gift to Him this year. Love, Grandma and Grandpa.”
Four months until his grandparents came home! That still seemed like a long time to Greg.
The second envelope had a letter in it that read:
“Dear Greg,
“I want to thank you for the best Christmas present my family has ever received—we are being baptized into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We’re all being baptized—me, my wife, my children, and my parents. Then when we are ready, we will all go to the temple together.
“Your grandparents taught us the gospel. They say that you miss them very much and that they miss you too. They hope that you understand that they are on a mission so that they can teach families like mine how to be together forever.
“My family and I thank you for sharing your grandparents with us. Now my children can have their grandparents forever just like you can.
Sincerely,Gerald Hobbs”
Greg put the letter down and picked up his grandparents’ Christmas card. How about that! A whole family were being baptized because of Grandma and Grandpa.
Greg still missed Grandma and Grandpa, but maybe four months wouldn’t be so long after all. And maybe it wasn’t so bad to share them for one Christmas, especially for such a good reason.

When two Latter-day Saint missionaries visited the Graybeal home in 1959, Alexandria knew their message was special. Her husband and two children were touched, too, and the Graybeals progressed toward baptism. When Brother Graybeal learned that the Air Force was transferring him to Germany, he decided to be baptized before he left. Alexandria, however, was struggling to know whether Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. Some time later, after the family had moved to Germany, her husband said, “If you really want to know, go to Heavenly Father and ask him.” That night Alexandria did just that. “I don’t know what happened,” she explains, “but the next morning I knew Joseph Smith was a prophet.” Alexandria and the two children were baptized a short time later in Kerlsrue, West Germany, in June 1960.
“I just felt wonderful,” Sister Graybeal says, remembering her baptism. “My testimony was strengthened after that, and I couldn’t get enough of the gospel. I studied and studied. It was like walking through a door and finding that the light was shining. It was beautiful.”

In earlier times, tithing was paid in kind—a tenth of the herdsman’s increase, a tenth of the farmer’s produce. I am sorry that our modern cash economy deprives parents of the wonderful teaching opportunities presented by the payment of tithing in kind. In a recent book, Tongan Saints: Legacy of Faith, the author quotes a Tongan bishop’s memories of one such example:
“Grandpa Vanisi’s spirituality inspired an awe in me as a child. I remember following him daily to his plantation. He would always point out to me the very best of his taro, bananas, or yams and say: ‘These will be for our tithing.’ His greatest care was given to these ‘chosen’ ones. During the harvest, I was often the one assigned to take our load of tithing to the branch president. I remember sitting on the family horse. Grandfather would lift onto its back a sack of fine taro which I balanced in front of me. Then with a very serious look in his eyes, he said to me, ‘Simi, be very careful because this is our tithing.’ From my grandfather I learned early in life that you give only your best to the Lord” (in Eric B. Shumway, trans. and ed., Tongan Saints: Legacy of Faith [Laie, Hawaii: The Institute for Polynesian Studies, 1991], pp. 79–80).

Using the two dollars, Geoff has done everything from leaving quarters on a bubblegum machine to buying dollar-movie tickets for the people behind him in line. One time, Geoff saw some homeless men outside of a fast-food restaurant. “I went through the drive-through, and by the time I got my food, the men were leaving. I got out of my car and chased them half a block before I had the chance to give some food to them.”

The Church was appearing to become, as the scripture says, as a stone cut out of a mountain without hands and rolling forth to fill the whole earth (see Dan. 2:44–45; D&C 65:2). Political officials worried about its moving outward and abroad from the immediate locale, illegal charges were leveled, court documents and summonses were issued, and vigilantes gathered at Carthage, the county seat. Joseph and Hyrum were to appear to answer charges against them.
As Joseph Smith left Nauvoo for Carthage that 24th day of June, he would have looked for the last time on the city and the magnificent temple that was nearly completed. He knew he would never look upon it again.
To his companions who were accompanying him to Carthage, the Prophet Joseph gave these prophetic words: “I am going like a lamb to the slaughter; but I am calm as a summer’s morning; I have a conscience void of offense towards God, and towards all men. … AND IT SHALL YET BE SAID OF ME—HE WAS MURDERED IN COLD BLOOD” (D&C 135:4).
Why did he not turn back? There was time to escape. He was not yet in the hands of his enemies. Friends were at his side who would die for him if necessary. Some suggested he flee across the Mississippi where he would be safe. But he continued to Carthage.
It was midnight when the journey from Nauvoo ended. Joseph and his brethren entered Carthage, and his fate was sealed. His enemies had awaited their coming with great anxiety. The governor, who was present, persuaded the mob to disperse that night by promising them that they should have full satisfaction.
The next day, after a hearing, Joseph was released on bail but rearrested on a trumped-up charge of treason. Bail was refused, and Joseph and Hyrum were placed in Carthage Jail.
The last night of Joseph’s life on earth he bore a powerful testimony to the guards and others who assembled at the door of the jail of the divinity of the Book of Mormon, also declaring that the gospel had been restored and the kingdom of God established on the earth. It was for this reason that he was incarcerated in prison, not for violating any law of God or man.
It was late at night when the prisoners tried to get some rest. At first Joseph and Hyrum occupied the only bed in the jail room, but a gunshot during the night and a disturbance led Joseph’s friends to insist that he take a place between the two of them on the floor. They would protect him with their own bodies. Joseph asked John S. Fullmer to use his arm for a pillow while they conversed; then he turned to Dan Jones, on the other side, and whispered, “Are you afraid to die?” And this staunch friend answered, “Has that time come, think you? Engaged in such a cause I do not think that death would have many terrors.”
Joseph replied, “You will yet see Wales, and fulfill the mission appointed you before you die” (History of the Church, 6:601).
The next day, the fateful 27th of June 1844, all but two of Joseph’s friends were made to leave the prison, so that now only four brethren remained—Joseph and Hyrum and two of the Apostles, both of whom during the day offered to die for him. The day was spent in writing letters to their wives, conversing on principles of the gospel, and singing. Between three and four o’clock in the afternoon the Prophet requested Elder John Taylor to sing the words of “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief.”
This comforting song breathes in every line the very spirit and message of Christ. Only a person who loved his Savior and his fellowmen would have requested to hear these words at such a time.
When Elder Taylor had finished the song, the Prophet’s eyes were wet with tears, and he said, “Sing that song again, will you, John?” (quoted in Claire Noall, Intimate Disciple: A Portrait of Willard Richards, Apostle to Joseph Smith—Cousin of Brigham Young [1957], 440).
John “replied that he did not feel like singing. He was oppressed with a sense of coming disaster” (George Q. Cannon, Life of Joseph Smith the Prophet [1986], 524).
“You’ll feel better once you begin, and so will I,” replied Joseph (quoted in Noall, Intimate Disciple, 440).
Hyrum also pleaded with him to repeat the song. And Elder Taylor did.
This time his voice was even sadder and more tender than at first, and when he concluded, all were hushed, but four hearts beat faster, for they had carefully listened to the fateful words:
My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,
He asked if I for him would die.
The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill,
But my free spirit cried, “I will!”
(Hymns, number 29)
The other three heard Joseph murmur as an echo to the song, “I will!”
The love of Christ was in the song; the love of man was there in that room in the Carthage Jail.
While this spirit of love and service for men expressed in song and prayer filled the hearts of all within the jail, the mob was gathering. The final details you know.
When the news of the awful crime reached Nauvoo, the citizens were overcome with grief and horror. Such sorrow had not been known in Nauvoo before. The warm summer sun left them cold and chill. Their prophet and their patriarch were dead. What else mattered?
When the wagons carrying the bodies were still a long way off, the entire population of Nauvoo went out to meet them. No greater tribute could be paid than was paid that day to Joseph and Hyrum Smith. Such universal love from those who knew them best could never have been won by selfish and designing men. Only love begets love. Once when Joseph had been asked how he had acquired so many followers and retained them, he replied, “It is because I possess the principle of love. All I can offer the world is a good heart and a good hand” (History of the Church, 5:498).
Sariah Workman, an early immigrant, wrote, “I always felt a divine influence whenever I was in his presence” (in “Joseph Smith, the Prophet,” Young Woman’s Journal, December 1906, 542).
John Taylor, who was wounded at Carthage and later became prophet, said of him: “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it. In the short space of twenty years, he has brought forth the Book of Mormon, which he translated by the gift and power of God, and has been the means of publishing it on two continents; has sent the fulness of the everlasting gospel, which it contained, to the four quarters of the earth; has brought forth the revelations and commandments which compose this book of Doctrine and Covenants, and many other wise documents and instructions for the benefit of the children of men; gathered many thousands of the Latter-day Saints, founded a great city, and left a fame and name that cannot be slain. He lived great, and he died great in the eyes of God and his people; and like most of the Lord’s anointed in ancient times, has sealed his mission and his works with his own blood” (D&C 135:3).
I give my love and testament that God our Father lives, that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God, crucified for the sins of the world “to cleanse it from all unrighteousness; that through him all might be saved” (D&C 76:41–42). He is our Redeemer, our Lord, our King. His kingdom is again established on the earth. In the year 1820 God our Eternal Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, appeared to Joseph Smith, who was foreordained to be the instrument of the Restoration, which is The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This Church, by divine direction, is preparing the world for His Second Coming—for He will come again. This I humbly declare in His holy name.