Gospel Story Finder

A defining moment of Elder Von G. Keetch’s life came as he was completing a judicial clerkship with Chief Justice Warren E. Burger and Justice Antonin Scalia of the United States Supreme Court and preparing to enter full-time law practice.
He could have worked in any city in the United States for a multitude of big law firms. Instead, he and his wife, Bernice Pymm Keetch, prayed for inspiration to know what they should do. After a period of searching, the couple returned to Salt Lake City, Utah, where he went to work for the law firm of Kirton McConkie.
At the time, Elder Keetch thought he might be sacrificing his ability to work on cutting-edge legal cases in order to be near family. Instead, as the chief outside legal counsel for the Church, Elder Keetch argued constitutional issues and precedent-setting cases on religious liberty. He has represented almost every major religious denomination in the country. “I have loved being able to work for such a great client and being able to work on such great issues,” he said.

Finally, let me share with you one more experience among the Saints of the Pacific that remains deeply and spiritually rooted in my soul. Some years ago I was a young counselor to a bishop in a new ward in American Samoa. We had 99 members, consisting of subsistence farmers, cannery workers, government employees, and their families. When the First Presidency announced in 1977 that a temple was going to be constructed in Samoa, there was joy and thanksgiving expressed by all of us. Going to the temple from American Samoa at that time required traveling either to Hawaii or New Zealand. This was a costly journey that was beyond the reach of many faithful Church members.

During this period of time members were encouraged to donate to a building fund to assist in the construction of temples. In this spirit, our bishopric asked the ward members to prayerfully consider what they could give. A date was set for families to gather to offer their donations. Later, as these donations were opened in private, our bishopric was humbled and touched by the faith and generosity of our wonderful ward members.

Knowing each family and their circumstances, I felt a deep and abiding sense of awe, respect, and humility. These were, in every way, modern-day widow’s mites given freely from their “want,” with a joy in the promised blessing of the construction of a holy temple of the Lord in Samoa. These families had consecrated all that they could to the Lord, with the faith that they would not be left wanting. Their gift manifested their widow’s hearts. All who gave did so willingly and joyfully because the widow’s heart within them could see with the eye of faith the great crowning blessings in store for their families and for all of the people of Samoa and American Samoa for generations to come. I know that their consecrated offerings, their widow’s mites, were known and accepted by the Lord.

About a year ago I was on assignment in Beirut, Lebanon. While there, I learned about a 12-year-old girl, Sarah. Her parents and two older siblings had converted to the Church in Romania but were then required to return to their homeland when Sarah was just 7 years of age. In their homeland there was no Church presence, no organized units, no Sunday School or Young Women program. After five years this family learned of a branch in Beirut and, just before I arrived, sent their 12-year-old daughter, Sarah, accompanied by older siblings, to be baptized. While there, I gave a devotional on the plan of salvation. With some frequency Sarah raised her hand and answered the questions.
After the meeting, and knowing of her almost nonexistent Church exposure, I approached her and asked, “Sarah, how did you know the answers to those questions?” She immediately replied, “My mother taught me.” They did not have the Church in their community, but they did have the gospel in their home. Her mother was her prime gospel teacher.

One day when Tommy was about eight years old, he and his grandfather were sitting on the front-porch swing. An elderly man from England lived on the same street. His name was Robert Dicks, but most of the neighbors just called him “Old Bob.” He was widowed and poor.
Old Bob came over and sat down on the porch swing with Tommy and his grandfather. He said that the small adobe house where he lived was going to be torn down. He had no family, no money, and nowhere to go.
Tommy wondered how his grandfather would respond to the sad story. His grandfather reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather change purse. He took out a key and put it in Old Bob’s hand. “Mr. Dicks,” he said kindly, “you can move your things into that empty house of mine next door. It won’t cost you a cent, and you can stay there as long as you like. And remember, nobody is ever going to put you out again.” Tears filled Old Bob’s eyes.

After many promptings during his young adult years, Elder Larry S. Kacher began to recognize a greater power guiding him in his life. At age 19, sensitivity to the Spirit led him to the gospel of Jesus Christ—a change that has made all the difference.
After high school he went to Europe to ski, and after more than six months there he felt he needed to return home. Once home, he felt like he needed to go somewhere else but didn’t know where. A childhood friend planned to move to Utah, and Elder Kacher decided to move with him. While in Utah, Elder Kacher enrolled at Brigham Young University, learned about the Church, and was baptized.
“As the missionaries taught us, I felt it was true,” he says. “As I prayed, I felt that the Church was true.”

Fifth: "I was sick, and ye visited me." I'm sure we have all been sick at some point in our lives. And when you're feeling under the weather, who doesn't appreciate a reassuring visit from family or friends? I think of loneliness in this same category of need.

When I was in graduate school in Illinois, I was home teacher to a dear elderly sister in our ward, Zada Purrington. She lived alone in an assisted living center but made great efforts to come to church. We lived far from our own families and grandparents, so Zada became a kind of adopted grandparent for our young children. We loved to visit and spend time with her, even though she could barely hear us.

I know she was lonely and was often sick, but she was always happy to see us. I'm sure (I hope!) she appreciated our visits with three young girls in tow, and I know we certainly were greatly blessed by our association with her. This kind of service brings blessings in abundance to all involved.

Later, Christopher’s Primary teacher, Sister Woolett, gave a lesson about the Holy Ghost. She told about when the still, small voice warned her to check on her sleeping baby. When she did, everything seemed all right.

But as she turned to leave, the voice again told her to check on her little boy. This time she went over to the crib and looked closely at him. There, next to him, was a large, jagged piece of glass. A framed picture that had been hanging above the crib had fallen. Most of the glass and the frame were behind the crib, but the large, jagged piece had fallen next to her sleeping son.
Sister Woolett also related an incident from the lesson manual about one of the prophets being warned of danger by the still, small voice.
Why can everyone hear the still, small voice but me? Christopher wondered again. He knew that after his baptism almost two years ago, he was given the gift of the Holy Ghost when he was confirmed. So why doesn’t the Holy Ghost speak to me?
“How was Primary?” Mom asked as Christopher and his two younger sisters climbed into the car. Jill and Michelle started telling about their lessons and the songs they learned in singing time. Christopher stared sadly at the floor.
“What was your lesson about, Christopher?” Dad asked.
A tear rolled down Christopher’s cheek. “The Holy Ghost,” he replied softly. Sensing that something was wrong, Jill and Michelle quit chattering.
“Maybe we could talk about this a little more when we get in the house,” Mom said as they turned into the driveway.
Later Mom and Dad invited Christopher to come to their room. “Christopher,” Mom said, “can you tell us what’s bothering you?”
Christopher looked down. He didn’t want his parents to know the Holy Ghost didn’t talk to him. They probably heard the still, small voice all the time.
“Listen,” Dad said, putting his arm around Christopher, “we can tell you’re upset, and we’d like to help.”
Christopher felt tears ready to spill from his eyes. “Mom, Dad,” he said in a shaky voice, “why doesn’t the Holy Ghost speak to me? I’ve always tried to do what’s right. I know I make mistakes—like the time I spilled the red punch on the new carpet and said Jill did it so I wouldn’t get in trouble. But I did finally tell the truth. Do you have to be perfect like the bishop or Brother Johnson or Sister Woolett to have the Holy Ghost speak to you?”
Mom and Dad looked a little surprised. “Christopher,” Mom said, “the only perfect person to ever live on the earth is Jesus Christ. Everyone makes mistakes. Why don’t you think the Holy Ghost speaks to you?”
“I’ve never heard the still, small voice,” Christopher replied.
“Hearing a voice isn’t the only way the Holy Ghost can communicate with you,” Mom said. “Often it’s what you feel, not what you hear. Don’t you remember the good feeling you had after you prayed and asked Heavenly Father to forgive you for blaming your sister for the carpet stain? That feeling was from the Holy Ghost.”
“It was?”
“Or how about the time we were reading the scriptures,” Dad added, “and you suddenly understood what Jesus Christ was talking about in the parable of the wheat and the tares. That was the Holy Ghost teaching you.”
“I never thought about it that way before!” Christopher was starting to feel a lot better.
“And,” Mom said, “remember when you got lost last summer and you prayed for help? After you prayed, you felt calm and knew you should sit on the nearest bench and let us find you. That calm, reassuring feeling helping you know what to do was the Holy Ghost.”
Christopher smiled. Now he understood. The Holy Ghost had been talking to him—even if he didn’t hear the still, small voice with his ears! Now he said excitedly, “What about last week when I gave my talk in Primary? I’d studied it really hard, but when I got up, I had forgotten it. Then I said a silent prayer, and suddenly I could remember my talk. That was the Holy Ghost, too, wasn’t it?”
“That’s right,” Dad said. “Helping you remember is also a part of the gift of the Holy Ghost.”
“All those times the Holy Ghost really was talking to me!” The warm feeling in Christopher’s heart helped him know it was true.

Almost exactly one hundred years ago, when the Church already had several stake academies, including Brigham Young Academy in Provo, the First Presidency released James E. Talmage from heading LDS College in Salt Lake City and assigned him to create the plans for what Talmage’s biographer called “a genuine Church university.”46 Talmage was stirred to the core at “the prospect of . . . founding . . . an institution . . . that would merit recognition by the established centers of learning throughout the nation and the world. It was a dream he had cherished for many years.”47 The proposed name: Young University.48

Think of it: just months after the Manifesto had been issued, the Church barely rescued from the jaws of utter destruction, Utah not yet a state, and already a network of Church academies in place, those Saints in their poverty wanted to create a genuine university. This early plan was shattered by the Panic of 1893, but the dream lived on. In the 1920s and 1930s, the Church withdrew from higher education, creating a system of institutes of religion and offering to state governments all of its academies except for our very own Brigham Young Academy, which the First Presidency determined to keep in order to develop one genuine university.49 The dream was still alive.

In 1928, 83-year-old Thomas Biesinger was called to return to Czechoslovakia for a short mission. In Prague he visited police and government officials, requesting permission to preach. Finding no opposition, he reported that the way was open.

When Elder Biesinger was released, no one was sent to replace him. Sister Frantiska Vesela Brodilova wrote to President Heber J. Grant, asking him to send missionaries (see “Czechoslovakia Was Her Mission,” Liahona, September 1995, 26–27). Her request was answered with the arrival of Arthur Gaeth, a tall, energetic young man. His journalistic bent and booming voice enabled him, within 10 days, to arrange for two 10-minute radio talks to be read in Czech, to speak on German radio, to lecture at a German adult-education institution, and to write an article for a German-language newspaper.

The Bengaluru Stake presidency wanted to visit members as part of their ministering efforts. One Sunday they went to a hospital to visit a member who needed a surgery. They had a pleasant visit giving hope to the family to know that all will be well. The surgery could not happen as the sugar levels were not within the level needed. A priesthood blessing and a promise was given that his surgery would take place soon. After a day, the surgery was performed and it was successful.

When President N. Eldon Tanner presided over the West European Mission some years ago, his slogan was “Have a good time.” One day he said to a group of missionaries in Germany, “I would like you all to have a good time.” After the meeting, one of the missionaries came up to him and said: “President Tanner, I don’t think that it is quite fair for you to tell the missionaries to have a good time. You know, the only way they can have a good time is to do their work.” President Tanner said, “Well, go have a good time.”

“How many of you would like to have a ‘perfect day’?” the bishop asked the congregation. Many members raised their hands—some high, some low. A few kept their hands in their laps.
“That’s fine,” the bishop nodded. “Larry,” he asked one of the ward members, “would you like to have a ‘perfect day’? Would you please come up here to the stand? George and Ruth? Paul? Matthew and Joan? John and Helen? Ben and Carol?”
He called their names slowly, pausing briefly between each one. Many hands fell back into their owners’ laps; only a few remained held high.
“Is there a widow who would like to live a ‘perfect day’?” the bishop asked. There was a moment of silence as he looked over the congregation. “Grace, how about you?”
When those whose names he had called had reached the stand, he turned to them. “Which day would you like to be your perfect day? Tuesday? … Thursday?”
The disbelief and the embarrassed smiles on their faces showed that none of them had really expected to have to make a real commitment. Some nodded their heads yes. Others stood motionless. After several seconds, someone suggested Thursday because it would give them more time to prepare.
Smiling, the bishop said, “That’s fine. Thursday you will have a ‘perfect day.’ And since we do not have any speakers planned for sacrament meeting next Sunday, we’d like you to report your ‘perfect day’ to us.”
He turned back to the congregation. “Is there anyone else who would like to have a ‘perfect day’?” James, a teachers quorum member with a happy smile, raised his hand. He was included.
The bishop then told the congregation, “Your responsibility as ward members is to pray that they accomplish their assignment.”
How does one live to make a day perfect? That question passed through the minds of those who had accepted the bishop’s challenge. Throughout the week, whenever ward members got together, the subject of the bishop’s “perfect day” challenge came up. We were eager to hear the reports.
Sunday finally came.
Grace, a widow with short brown hair and shining eyes, was first. Her day hadn’t gone exactly as planned, she told us. She awoke with a terrible head cold—the first time in more than three years she had been ill. In revising her plans for the day, she decided to put together a scrapbook about her mother’s life, something she had been thinking of doing for a long time. Grace asked her sister to help, and they worked together to reconstruct their mother’s life story in pictures and words. It took most of the day, but the end result was a cherished scrapbook.
Grace found that her activities on that day opened up a new avenue to her. Her patriarchal blessing had said that she would work on her family history. “Because I didn’t understand family history, I just couldn’t get really interested in it,” she confessed. “But after doing my mother’s book, I decided to do one about my husband who died recently.”
She has since compiled histories of her husband, her son, and her daughter. “By cleaning out all the boxes of treasures and mementos I had been storing for years, I’ve found enough information to do the temple work for many of my ancestors,” she says. “I can see my work is just beginning. And I’m happy to do it.”
James’s goal for the day was much different. He planned to be obedient to his parents—to immediately and cheerfully do what he was asked. “It seems as if your mother always wants you to do something when your friends come over to play or when you in the most exciting part of a book,” he said. “Sometimes I stopped and told myself to do it now. At the end of the day, I was able to do it as soon as she asked. It gave me a good feeling,” he concluded.
Paul, a fifteen-year-old with a delightful sense of humor, also took the bishop’s challenge seriously. Though scripture study was not a part of his daily routine, he decided to begin the day by reading the scriptures. “I didn’t know why it was so important to me to read the scriptures that day, but it was,” he explained. “Several times Wednesday night I woke up, feeling sure that I had overslept. Finally, when my alarm went off, I reached for my Book of Mormon.”
He read for about forty-five minutes. “Reading the scriptures seemed to set the tone for the entire day,” he said. “It’s not always easy to get along with school friends, teachers, and your family, and my ‘perfect day’ was not different. I made some mistakes, but I did a lot better than I do most days.
“It also helped me to be much more aware of my blessings, of the things I should be doing, and of my mistakes,” he added. “Often during the day I wondered what I could do to be better.”
That question—What can I do to be better?”—was asked by others who had accepted the bishop’s challenge. Many of them found the answer in serving others.
George found attempting to live a “perfect day” a great challenge. “Even though I didn’t have exactly the kind of day I would have liked to have,” he said, “it made an impact on my life. I’d never even thought of trying to live a ‘perfect day’ before.”
Ruth, George’s wife, experienced an improvement in their relationship as a result of her “perfect day.” “By trying to keep my day perfect,” she said, “I realized some of the habits I had gotten into. For instance, I would suddenly get angry at George for some silly, insignificant reason. Now I’m working on correcting that.”
Recognizing faults and taking steps to overcome them was something each of those who accepted the bishop’s challenge experienced. Larry said, “Like many returned missionaries, I had fallen down in my study habits. There always seemed to be so many other things to do. So when I received this assignment from the bishop, I decided that I needed to regain that closeness to the Lord I had felt on my mission.”
Things didn’t work out quite as Larry had planned; a painful tooth ache spoiled his “perfect day.” “Still,” he says, “I don’t feel my day was a failure. I tried hard to live perfectly—in spite of my circumstances.”
For John, “Every day is a perfect day for me because of my wife Helen. To share my life with her is one of my greatest blessings. For me, a ‘perfect day’ is being together with her. We enjoy each other’s company, and we’re the best of friends.
“We start the day together in prayer and scripture study, and although we go our separate ways to work, we are spiritually together throughout the day. We like to surprise each other by putting a note expressing our love for one another in our lunch sacks.
“After work, we get home, have our evening meal, share in the chores, and then visit with each other and discuss our day’s activity, and plan for the coming day. A special activity for us each week is attending the temple, and this past week we went on our ‘perfect day.’ It’s wonderful to kneel together at the altar, holdings hands, and reliving our marriage covenants as we perform sealing work for others.”
Temple work featured in the “perfect day” for Ben and Carol. When Ben retired a couple of years ago, he and Carol accepted callings as temple workers. “The bishop’s assigned ‘perfect day’ happened to be one of the two days in the week that we serve in the temple.
“I serve as a supervisor at the temple, and I was really touched when, in a prayer meeting, the brother offering the prayer asked that the Lord watch over me, as supervisor, and bless me with a special day. He didn’t know about our ‘perfect day’ assignment, but his prayer was very meaningful to me.
“What a special place to be for a ‘perfect day.’ We were there in the Lord’s house, doing the Lord’s work, side by side with wonderful brothers and sisters, helping others on the road to the celestial kingdom.”
Matthew told the congregation that in his family’s discussion of a “perfect day,” “we came to understand the need to perfect ourselves a little each and every day. For some months, my wife Joan has been very ill, and her illness has affected the entire family. We have come to rely upon the Lord more and to daily seek his guidance, and we have come to better recognize and understand the power of the priesthood. For our ‘perfect day,’ we agreed that we continually need to be supportive of each other, and to live worthy of the blessings we receive.”
After hearing the reports of those who had accepted the “perfect day” assignment, I asked the bishop why he had issued the challenge.
“I’ve always thought about living a ‘perfect day,’” he said. “But we have so many outside influences and pressures in a regular day that we can seldom focus on the spiritual and idealistic. And we often speak about the impossibility of living a ‘perfect day’ or a perfect life. But I had a strong feeling that the time was right for the ward members to try.
“I think we discovered that we can make things a little more perfect regardless of our circumstances. None of the ward members involved in this assignment had to make an investment in money, but they did have to make an investment in time, and give of themselves.
“Many of us in the ward, not just those who had committed themselves to the challenge, also tried to live a ‘perfect day.’ As a result, we became more aware of the challenges involved in perfecting ourselves and tried harder to live worthy to have the Lord’s Spirit be with us.”
Though the bishop’s “perfect day” challenge did not cause instant changes in our lives, it helped us along the road to perfection—something we all hope to achieve.

When I had a heart attack up in Grace, Idaho, back in 1942, I was away from my work for six weeks. I was then the Presiding Bishop of the Church, and I tell you I almost sweat blood to think that I had to be on that bed and couldn’t be out working. So the first meeting that we attended as a bishopric with the First Presidency after I returned, I said to the Presidency, “I found out what hell is.”
President Clark said, “What is it, Bishop?”
I said, “To see the other fellow working when you can’t work.” I said, “If there’s any truth to the words of the song that there’s sweet, sweet rest in heaven,’ I’m going to ask to be routed the other way.”
My counselor, Bishop Ashton, was witty, as you might remember, and he said, “Well, Bishop, I wouldn’t worry too much about that if I were you. You may not have to ask for it.”
I said, “Yeah, I’ve thought of that too.”

Next, Paula’s focus shifted to people living just across the border in Tijuana, Mexico. She heard about the desperate conditions many families were living in and she went to work. She collected clothing, food, and household items from everyone she knew. Soon the collected items were taken across the border and given to the families who so badly needed them. She is still collecting and sending on a continual basis.

It is a warm day—June 29, 1844.
A boat approaches a horseshoe bend in the Mississippi River. On that bend is a city. A traveler on the boat seeks to find the city on his map, but the map, printed a few years previously, shows no such city. On inquiry, he is told that the city is Nauvoo. A brief stop is to be made.
At the docking, the traveler becomes curious as to why long lines of people wait to enter a large home on the river front. Being in no hurry, he informs the boat’s captain that he is going to remain in Nauvoo, perhaps overnight.
As he approaches the end of the line, it becomes apparent that these are grief-stricken people. The ladies and many men are weeping.
“Excuse me,” he says, approaching a mourner, “but what are these lines for?”
The mourner looks up in amazement: “You mean you don’t know?”
“I’m a stranger here,” he says. “I just arrived on the boat.”
“Oh,” replies the mourner. “We are waiting to view the bodies of Lieutenant General Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum who were killed two days ago.”
“Lieutenant General Smith?” the visitor says questioningly.
“Yes, he was the lieutenant general of the Nauvoo Legion, an army of 5,000 men.”
“How many others were killed with them?” asks the visitor.
“None. That is probably the main reason why Joseph died. He believed that his enemies wanted his life alone, and if he had to die, he thought that the lust for blood would be satisfied without the rest of us being killed. He wanted his brother Hyrum to live, but Hyrum insisted on remaining at his side.”
“How did the trouble begin that led to their death?” asks the traveler.
“Well, the public reason given was the destruction of the press of the Nauvoo Expositor,” replies the mourner. “The newspaper was owned by Joseph’s enemies, and they published slanderous and inflammatory articles and lies, seeking to build hatred against Joseph Smith. So an order to close the paper was issued by the city council and the mayor, Joseph Smith.”
“Joseph Smith was also the mayor of this city?”
“Yes.”
“This must be a very new city,” says the traveler. “It isn’t even on my map.”
“Yes, it is new. Just six years ago this was nothing but a swamp.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, the traveler says, “It is a beautiful city. I noticed as I came up the river that the farms and corrals are outside of town.”
“Yes, this is the way Joseph planned the city.”
“Joseph planned this city?”
“Yes, so that the people, mostly farmers, could have the advantages of city life—so that we might associate together and learn from each other.”
The traveler then comments on the wide, straight streets and the well-built houses and wonders what the large building under construction is to be. The mourner informs him that it is the temple and that Joseph had designed it to be the dominant landmark in the city.
“Joseph Smith designed the temple!” the stranger exclaims. He then remembers: “You were telling me what led to his death.”
“Oh, yes, the Expositor incident,” says the mourner. “But the trouble began a long time ago, even before Joseph translated the ancient record.”
“He was a translator?” repeats the visitor. “What happened to the translation of this ancient record.”
“It has been published. It is called the Book of Mormon.”
“Has he published any other books?” asks the stranger.
“Oh, yes, as president of the Church …”
“President of the Church?” exclaims the visitor.
“Yes, president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Almost everyone here in Nauvoo is a member of the Church. As president he published the Doctrine and Covenants and …”
“What kind of book is that?” asks the amazed traveler.
“It is a book of revelations that were given to the Prophet Joseph Smith …”
“The Prophet Joseph Smith!”
“Yes. God the Father and his resurrected son Jesus Christ appeared to him and conversed with him in his youth. In fact, it was after Joseph, full of joy and enthusiasm, told his neighbors he had seen a vision that the persecution first began. Not only was Joseph persecuted, but also all of his followers were. Why, some of the people you see here have been driven from homes in New York, Ohio, and Missouri. In Missouri none of us were paid for our losses. Joseph tried to obtain redress but was refused. That’s the principle reason why he became a candidate for the presidency of the United States.”
“A candidate for the presidency of the United States!” cries out the bewildered stranger.
The mourner continues: “It was four days ago that Joseph bid a reluctant farewell to his family, looked longingly at the temple and then at his farm, and said, ‘This is the loveliest place and best people under the heavens.’ He then rode toward the county seat at Carthage to turn himself over to his enemies. He said, ‘I am going like a lamb to the slaughter, but I am as calm as a summer’s morning.’ He was promised protection and a fair trial, but two days ago, on June 27, a band of over a hundred men with blackened faces stormed the jail. A few moments later, Joseph and Hyrum lay dead.”
“How old was he?” asks the traveler.
“Thirty-eight years old,” says the mourner.
The visitor looks on in disbelief and thinks to himself: “Lieutenant general, translator, author, mayor, prophet, Church president, city planner, architect, presidential candidate—what manner of man was this Joseph Smith?”
This little scene has been imaginary, but well might many people have thought these things about Joseph Smith.

Several years ago, my aunt and uncle’s grandson died at eight-and-a-half months old. The situation surrounding his death caused feelings of unimaginable loss, intense anger, and paralyzing pain. My aunt and uncle hadn’t been sealed in the temple nor had the baby’s parents. I wondered how they would get through this experience without the comfort and blessing of knowing he was sealed to their family for eternity. But because my aunt had established personal habits of prayer, scripture study, and temple attendance, she was prepared to declare, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”[9]

The following year, many wonderful things occurred. Their daughter found a worthy and loving man who took her to the temple. My uncle was the proxy for his grandson as this baby was sealed to his family. In addition, my aunt, uncle, and their children were sealed as an eternal family. In the temple, my aunt learned that when death takes us from this world, it’s our covenants that bring us back together. They are now bound together eternally from child to parent to grandparent. The difficulty of losing this child was replaced by the joy and promise of eternity together.

Upon reflecting on her experiences, my aunt said, “I am a different person because of what I’ve been through, and I never want to forget it. It’s not what we go through in life that matters. It’s who we turn to for understanding, peace, and comfort, and allowing the Savior to make us better than we are.”

Recently a friend of mine was returning to his home in Salt Lake City on a plane from Dallas, Texas. His mind was focused upon an important event that was soon to occur in his family. His only son would be leaving home in just a few days to serve as a missionary in a far-distant land. His great love for his son caused him to reflect, “If my son is going so far away to teach about our Church, this had better be the best church!” Then he took out a notepad and pen and began to list the characteristics or qualities one would look for in the best church.
“There should be a program to build and strengthen youth,” he wrote, “an athletic program, a wholesome activity program, a program for teaching and training children, a program for developing the skills and talents of women, a program to provide for the needy, for the ill, for the lonely, for the victims of catastrophes and disasters, a program to provide opportunities for work and service, a program to assist families and individuals in spiritual development and progress.”
His list became long and impressive, and he satisfied himself that his church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, offered a program to meet the need of every individual. Truly, he determined, it is the best church his son could represent!
My friend felt so good about his list of attractive qualities of the best church that he decided to show it to the gentleman seated next to him on the plane. The man, an executive from a financial firm, responded with interest and respect. Together they reviewed the list, and as they concluded their conversation the businessman asked my friend, “Would you like to know what I would look for in a church? There is just one criterion: the members of that church would best exemplify the teaching of the Savior—‘Love thy neighbor as thyself.’”
My friend said he learned an important lesson from that experience. He had taught this fine man about the programs of the Church without acknowledging that the purpose of these programs is to help members learn how to love God and their fellowmen. He has shared that experience with me and permitted me to share it with you today that we might all be reminded of this.

For the past couple of years, the lives of Latter-day Saint youth in Malaysia have been filled with a different kind of firsts—gospel firsts. The Ipoh Malaysia District was organized in 2003. And since then youth here have planned and participated in their first-ever youth conference and attended their district’s first seminary graduation. There are only three branches in the Ipoh Malaysia District, but the youth are determined to share their testimonies with others so they can help the Church grow. They hope they will one day belong to the first ward in western Malaysia.
“You don’t always get to be first in everything,” says Malvinder Singh, 16, who joined the Church in 1998. “But we are pioneers here.”
At a youth conference last year, the air was filled with cries of excitement as the teens experienced yet another first—baseball. Only two or three of the youth who attended the conference had ever played the game before, so they were given the assignment to explain the rules to the others.
“It was a brand-new experience to learn how to play baseball, since soccer and badminton are the sports we play here,” says Malvinder.
In addition to baseball, youth conference was filled with other fun games and activities. Although the youth enjoyed the activities, they say what they will remember most about the experience was the opportunity to meet people with similar beliefs and to draw courage from knowing they are not alone.
Ariana Dabier, a Mia Maid, says, “It was great to see so many Malaysian youth who are just like me—faced with similar trials and temptations—and yet they stand firm in their faith. I now know that no matter where I go on this earth, the gospel will be the same.”
Another gospel first the youth recently experienced was the opportunity to attend their district’s first seminary graduation ceremony. Three Malaysian youth—Kelvin Anand Kumar, Aun Luck Tan Ernest, and Hamish Steven Parsons—earned seminary diplomas.
Kelvin, who was baptized in 1999, attended seminary during the first four years he was a member of the Church. He says the knowledge he gained there increased his testimony. “I am glad I graduated from seminary,” he says. “Seminary helped me to make correct decisions and plan my education. Because of the things I learned in seminary, I know someday I will marry in the temple.”
The youth say the examples of Kelvin and other graduates encourage them to attend seminary faithfully. Attending seminary is difficult for Malaysian teens because studies and homework take up most of their free time. They go to school six days a week, and most students also study with a private teacher after school ends for the day.
Jaslinder Kaur, a Mia Maid in the Ipoh Second Branch, says most of her friends don’t understand her decision to attend seminary. “When I told my friend I was going to church early in the morning to learn more about our Heavenly Father and His Son, she told me I was crazy and my grades would drop,” she says. “But seminary helps me do well in school because I have sacrificed my time for our Father in Heaven. When I go to school, my mind is fully awake, and I can concentrate better on my studies.”
Malvinder Singh also says attending seminary has helped him succeed in school. Malaysian students must complete rigid testing twice during their school careers. Test results determine which colleges students can attend and which professions they can pursue. Although this year was an important exam year for Malvinder, he still chose to go to seminary. He says he knows Heavenly Father blessed him for this decision by helping him do well on his tests. “Faith is the most important thing I have learned in attending seminary,” he says.
Missionaries have been a permanent presence in western Malaysia only since 1980, so there aren’t many members there yet. In fact, only 1 in 12,015 people in Malaysia—or .01 percent of the population—belongs to the Church. Like the early pioneers, the young men and young women in Malaysia know that many of their peers have not had an opportunity to hear the gospel. These youth know they can help the Church grow when they share their testimonies with their friends.
The youth also know that before they will be prepared to share the gospel with others, they must work hard to develop testimonies of their own. Aun Luck Tan Ernest’s parents taught him the gospel when he was young, but he always knew he needed to find out for himself if the gospel was true.
“I wanted to learn more about Jesus Christ when I was baptized,” Ernest, 17, says. “I knew He was the Son of God when I first bore my testimony in sacrament meeting. It was the happiest moment in my life, and I am still trying my best to strengthen my faith and grow in my testimony of Christ.”
Ernest and the other youth in the Ipoh district know that their testimonies will grow as they are shared. There are approximately 10 young men and 10 young women in the Ipoh Second Branch, and when possible they share their testimonies in testimony meeting. Young Women president Liew Siew Ling Chris says, “Hearing their testimonies is the greatest blessing I have.”
Youth in western Malaysia have been blessed with many gospel firsts. Through experiences like youth conference and seminary, they have learned they are not alone in their beliefs. And now they are determined to develop lasting testimonies of their own and help spread the good tidings of the gospel throughout Malaysia.

The Sunday School class of 14- and 15-year-olds in the McMinnville Second Ward, McMinnville Oregon Stake, did far more than just sit and listen to their lessons each Sunday. They got involved in a class educational service project. Since they were studying about the prophets of the Church, they decided to build a small model of a house that represented their idea of how one of Joseph Smith’s homes might have looked. When it was finished, they asked their bishop to give the house to a needy child for Christmas.

After the family had settled in Columbus, Elder Russell’s father had a nervous breakdown. “To restore my father’s health, we moved to a place called Salt Creek and camped there,” Elder Russell continued. “There were four of us: Father, Mother, my two-year-old brother, and myself. It was a very good time for me because my father and I spent a lot of time fishing and just being together. And although I was young, I had more responsibilities because of my father’s condition.
“That fall I went to school in Londonderry, Ohio, in a one-room schoolhouse where three grades met together. All summer long and into the fall I went barefoot—all the boys did. When the tall grass was mowed, the stubble hurt our feet, but we got used to it.”