Gospel Story Finder

Last year, in the middle of a semester, we dismissed a group of young men who were involved in the use of drugs. Some parents and fellow students were surprised at the swiftness and harshness of this action. Some accused us of not giving sufficient advance warning about our policy. I include this subject not only to make you aware of our policy but to add my voice to those who have warned you about drugs. My personal observations and experience with drug users have given me some indelible convictions about the destructive physical effects and the disabling spiritual effects of drugs. I know the reason for the provision in our Code of Honor that commits us to refrain “from the possession, use, or distribution of any narcotic or dangerous drug . . . , except as prescribed by a licensed medical practitioner.”

As a young law professor I spent several weeks in the criminal courts in Chicago prosecuting men accused of selling and possessing drugs. Later I spent many more weeks defending men accused of narcotics offenses. I have counseled young people who have been deceived and disabled by drugs, including marijuana, LSD, and pills, as well as the harder opium derivatives like heroin. I am more determined than anyone that we will not permit this tool of the devil to gain a foothold at BYU, as it has on so many high school and college campuses. Consequently we have a policy that any student found to be distributing, using, or possessing any drugs other than those used under a doctor’s care, on or off campus, will be dismissed immediately and without any allowance for probation. Persons guilty of drug offenses can, of course, repent and change their ways—and we hope that they will—but they will have to complete their repentance away from this campus and demonstrate their total rehabilitation before they will be allowed to return.

This policy is stern, but necessary. National studies, confirmed by our own experience, show that the drug traffic spreads rapidly from friend to friend, infecting the innocent and unwary as well as the eager participant. Every day we permit a drug user to remain at BYU we take chances with the welfare of thousands of other students. We will not take those chances.

Our swift action may also save the participants from more serious involvement. At the time we apprehended one of these young men last fall he had ordered a large shipment of marijuana sent to his address in the dorm, intending to sell it to some of his fellow students who were already using the drug and to others who would become involved. When our officers advised him that we were aware of his activities, he confessed and surrendered the drugs without committing the serious crime of sale of narcotics. If we had waited just a few days to apprehend that young man, our officers would have been obliged to prosecute him for the serious felony of sale of marijuana, a penitentiary offense.

In addition to Diahann, Brother Cox has introduced the Church to several other young people. “I thought Brother Cox was crazy,” Theresa Matthis said. “He invited me to church. Finally I agreed to come. I always came home happy, but I didn’t let Brother Cox know.”
Theresa’s sister Nicole began attending church with her, and both were baptized. Theresa looks a little differently at the problem of keeping friends after making such a life-changing decision as baptism. She said, “I didn’t lose friends; I gained friends.” Then looking at the group gathered in a circle, she said, “I gained all of you.”

The BYU Cougar Marching Band members had one of their great experiences when they marched in President Nixon’s Inaugural Parade. At the same time they brought honor to Mormon youth the world over. Of their part in the parade one network announcer said the band was “one of the ten best collegiate bands in the United States and possibly the best in the western part of the country.” Dr. Ralph G. Laycock, member of the Music Department Faculty at BYU, had composed a special number for the occasion entitled “Inaugural Procession.” As the band approached the bullet-proof reviewing box, they broke into the new composition with zest and were met with smiles of approval from the President.
But this was not the end of their challenges for the day. Once they reached the end of the parade route and moved toward their waiting buses, they were confronted by hundreds of anti-Nixon protestors who had just completed a noisy rally at the Washington Monument. As band members moved through the crowd, some of the protestors began to taunt them. Just when trouble looked inevitable, the drum major blew his whistle and the band struck up a medley of popular songs. Hostility melted; the demonstrators moved aside.
During the tour, band members made special efforts to exhibit Church standards to all they met. Stanley Miller, band advisor, echoed the feelings of many when he said, “We are proud of our people, not only for their performance for the President, but for their entire conduct during the four days.”

During my mission I learned a true story of a young boy named Tonga who exercised his faith in the Lord during a time of trial, and eventually, the Lord blessed him greatly. With permission from his grandson, Kafea Lavulavu, I would like to share the following:
A couple of missionaries taught the gospel to a family. They enjoyed hearing many things while being taught by the missionaries. At one point, they seemed upset with what the missionaries were teaching and felt that the missionaries were liars. They told the missionaries to leave their home as they didn’t accept the teaching of the missionaries anymore. One of the boys in the family, Tonga, felt strongly that their message was true. He felt it would bring him joy and was something that he needed in his life. Fortunately, the missionaries visited a family next door to Tonga. He joined the missionary lessons with his neighbors. Tonga enjoyed learning what the missionaries taught. Once his dad found out he was joining the missionary lessons with the other family, he was angry and told Tonga not to join again, otherwise he would punish or even kill him. Tonga was very sad because he really wanted to learn more about the gospel.
For the next appointment, he opened the windows close to the neighbor and sat next to the wall as close as possible so he could hear what the missionaries were teaching his neighbors.
One day, the missionaries taught about baptism, and Tonga felt he needed to be baptized in order to be saved in the Kingdom of God. He was very excited and asked the missionaries if he could be baptized. “No,” the missionaries replied, "your dad will kill you if you are baptized". He was instructed that he must wait until he was 18 years old. After turning 18, he met with missionaries again and asked if he could be baptized. He was interviewed by a missionary, and he recounted every story in the Book of Mormon from cover to cover. Finally, he passed the interview and was ready to be baptized. Tonga was baptized by one of the missionaries in the ocean. When he was immersed in the water and was lifted back up, he saw one of his older brothers walking towards him with a big stick on his shoulder. While his older brother walked step by step into the water, the elder told Tonga to run. He stood still in the water in obedience to his older brother’s command. In respect, Tonga stood in the water. The older brother hit Tonga as hard as he could with the big stick. His head was bleeding, his white baptism clothes became red, and blood was everywhere in the water. The older brother walked out of the water, angered, and left his brother submerged. The elder ran back and lifted the boy from the water and shook him, “Wake up! Wake up!” the elder said. Tonga weakly opened his eyes and grabbed the missionary’s arm and said, “Elder, can you confirm me with the Holy Ghost now?” “No, you are going to die,” the missionary responded. “We need to take you to the hospital right now.” The boy grabbed on tightly to the missionary’s arm and said: “Elder, if you confirm me now and I die, I know that I will go to heaven, but if I die without the confirmation, I cannot go to heaven.” Because of the faith of the boy, one missionary held him on the back and the other missionary confirmed him a member of the Church and bestowed upon him the gift of the Holy Ghost. His faith really blessed him. His injury was not serious, and he was healed. However, he could not go home, and he had to find another place to live so he could attend school and work. Every time he got paid from work, he always sent money with a letter of his testimony of the gospel to his family. Some months later, his father felt bad about what he did to his own son, and he started to miss him.
His mother wrote a letter, and his father delivered the letter and asked him to return home even though he knew he had joined the Church. Tonga returned home and lived with his family happily and always bore his firm testimony of the restored gospel. Eventually, his father’s heart was softened, and he allowed missionaries to come back into the home to teach them the gospel. Later, the whole family was baptized and joined the Church, and Tonga served as a Stake Patriarch.

A few years ago, just before Easter weekend, it rained all week long. I had been in Benin, West Africa, but was coming home to spend Easter in Togo. It didn’t rain on Saturday, the day I arrived, but that night it began raining again.
I knew that church started at 9:00 a.m. on Sunday, but because it had been raining so much and I’d only just arrived, I decided that was too early for me.
I thought to myself, “I’ll go a little bit late to church and get there at 10:00 a.m.” Then I went to see my brother. “Instead of going to church at 9:00,” I told him, “let’s go over to that patch of land on the side of my house.”
When we arrived, we noticed that the ground was nice and wet from all the rain. I thought, “It’s Sunday, and we’re waiting until 10:00 to go to church. Why not plant some beans before we go?”
So my brother and I planted a little patch of land that was about 65 square feet (6 m2). Then we went to church, an hour late. The next day we went to a nearby town where I had another plot of land. There we planted corn and more beans.
Two months later when I returned home again, I went to check that little patch of land next to my house. It was empty except for a little clump of weeds that I tripped over as I walked into the field. “Oh, yeah,” I said to myself, “we planted beans here on Easter Sunday!”
Out of all the seeds we sowed, the only thing that grew was a clump of weeds. The beans and corn we planted in the other field the Monday after Easter, however, grew just fine. Since that time everything we have planted in the patch of land next to my house has grown normally.
I hadn’t kept the Sabbath day holy that Easter Sunday, and I tripped over a clump of weeds to remind me that I hadn’t. Since then, I have remembered that I can’t just do whatever I feel like doing on the Lord’s day. Instead, I always remember to keep the Sabbath day holy.

As Kelly says, staying close as a family starts with spending time as a family. One of the ways they enjoy spending time together is to get up close and personal with some of the biggest animals on the planet! “We go on safari rides several times a year,” Kelly says. Plenty of great memories have piled up during these rides.

“The funniest memory is when it was pouring rain one time,” she says. The safari ride was going full speed, which made those raindrops sting. So her family huddled close together, laughing, to form a sort of human shield against the rain. And it worked! “We made each other warm!” she says.

For concept #3, I’d like to tell you a personal story. This is a concept that I was relatively clueless about for a long time. Let me explain.

Early in my life I knew I would grow up to be an artist. By the time I left high school I was aware of the path I wanted to take. My heroes were artists who had been illustrators of books and magazines, and later transitioned into what we call “fine artists”—those who create paintings and sell them in galleries. So that was the path I embarked on.

I went to a year of art school at Utah State University before serving a mission to Chile. After my mission, I returned to Utah State, met my wife, Johnna, and convinced her to support me in my dream. It would be necessary for her to work for quite a few years while I climbed the proverbial art-world ladder.

As a side note: fortunately for me, Johnna is brilliant, so she had a career as a software developer and project manager for many years.

After we were married we moved to Los Angeles, where I studied at one of the best illustration schools in the country while Johnna worked for a well-known aerospace company. Jump ahead a few years and we moved to Connecticut, where I could be near New York City and the world’s major publishing houses. Over the next several years I was blessed to be a freelance Illustrator, doing drawings and paintings for hundreds of books and magazines.

As I mentioned, my heroes eventually became fine artists. By the early 2000s we had moved to Teton Valley, Idaho, to be near the Jackson Hole art scene, and my paintings were selling in galleries and hanging in collections. I thought that I would continue down this path the rest of my life. But the Lord had other plans for me.

I consider myself extremely blessed that He let me follow my dream far enough to be successful before he took me down HisHIS path. Starting about 2008, the floundering economy threw a huge wrench into the cogs of my plan. I always knew that if the economy took a turn for the worse, the last thing that people would need was a painting on the wall. I was right—but it was one of those things you don’t exactly want to be right about.

Fortunately, in 2002, I had started teaching as an adjunct faculty member at BYUI in the art department. To my surprise I found that I had an undiscovered love for teaching. I decided to take advantage of the lull in the economy as a chance to go back for a master’s degree.

I’ll skip a lot of details here of the next several years, but there is one important detail that needs to be pointed out. The Lord, knowing I was ready for an important lesson, allowed me to pass through a very difficult phase of life for a while. It included working at four different part-time jobs simultaneously, for several years, just to make ends meet. The struggle was very real and stressful. But that struggle brought me to the point that I was ready to completely give up my will and follow His will. I was willing to go anywhere He wanted me to go, and do anything He wanted me to do, if He would just let me provide for my family.

And that’s when He started opening doors.

In 2011 I moved from the art department to a full-time position in the online department, to work as a media developer. I hadn’t known it, but for years the Lord had been training me for this exact position at this exact time, because my career had taken some unusual twists and turns along the way, and I had become skilled in a lot of areas related to art.

I now have the daily opportunity to serve thousands of my brothers and sisters all around the world each and every day. I still paint pictures, and the economy has recovered, so they sell, but what I do here at BYU-Idaho is what I know the Lord wants me to be doing. What an honor it is for me to play a very small part in the gathering of Zion to prepare the world for the Savior’s Second Coming.

Let me give you an example of the principle of reaching out from the childhood of Thomas S. Monson, the president of the Church:
Again Christmastime had come. We were preparing for the oven a gigantic turkey and anticipating the savory feast that awaited. A neighborhood pal of mine asked a startling question: “What does turkey taste like?”
I responded, “Oh, about like chicken tastes.”
Again a question: “What does chicken taste like?”
It was then that I realized my friend had never eaten chicken or turkey. I asked what his family was going to have for Christmas dinner. There was no prompt response, just a downcast glance and the comment, “I dunno. There’s nothing in the house.”
I pondered a solution. There was none. I had no turkeys, no chickens, no money. Then I remembered I did have two pet rabbits. Immediately I took them to my friend and handed the box to him with the comment, “Here, take these two rabbits. They’re good to eat—just like chicken.”
He took the box, climbed the fence, and headed for home—a Christmas dinner safely assured. Tears came easily to me as I closed the door to the empty rabbit hutch. But I was not sad. A warmth, a feeling of indescribable joy, filled my heart. It was a memorable Christmas. 34

A couple I know about married later in life; the wife had been married before, but it was the husband’s first marriage. After several months of marital bliss, a serious disagreement erupted that so hurt the husband emotionally that he could not function at his daily tasks.
As he reeled from the impact of this confrontation, he stopped to analyze the problem and realized that at least a part of the problem had been his. He went to his bride and stammered awkwardly several times, “I’m sorry, Honey.” The wife burst into tears, confessing that much of the problem was hers and asked forgiveness. As they held each other, she confessed that in her experience those words of apology had not been used before, and she now knew that any of their future problems could be solved. She felt secure because she knew they both could say, “I’m sorry;” “I forgive.”

One final story from my time spent serving in student wards. Unfortunately, this is a negative example; an example of how someone who didn=t understand this principle Elder Holland was teaching may have became a stumbling block to those around him.

It is often said, Aobedience is the first law of heaven.@ While I don=t know where this exact saying originated, there are many scriptures that teach the importance of obedience. Even the very scripture about love that has been the center of our discussion today reaffirms the importance of obedience:
Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you. (John 15:12-14)

Any successful returned missionary can bear testimony to the truth of this principle of obedience. If they can=t, I would submit to you that their mission was not as successful as they may think. My story is about one such returned missionary.

As in all singles wards, our brethren consisted of both returned missionaries, the experienced, all-knowing, and mighty RMs, and those whom the sisters lovingly referred to as Apreemies.@ You know what I=m talking about. Too much fun, I fear, may have been had at their expense. But one day they will return to campus, having served the Lord valiantly for two years, and claim their rightful place and the title of Returned Missionary.

In my position as the bishop, I was aware of the influence many such returned missionaries had on the younger brethren in our ward. Great was the example of many of these men on those who would shortly find themselves called as ambassadors of the Lord Jesus Christ throughout the world. Unfortunately, there were also exceptions.

I remember one day as one of my returned missionaries walked into the Elder=s Quorum meeting just before it began and sat down close to a few of our younger brethren. He was an outgoing and seemingly carefree person that seemed to thoroughly enjoy life. Today he was wearing a most unusual and bold necktie. It literally screamed at you, so much so, in fact, that it spawned several comments from those around him.

He explained that he had purchased the tie while on his mission but that his mission president didn=t like it and had asked him not to wear it. Then he said something in such a dismissive way that it made me want to cry for him, and scream ANo@ in the ears of those future missionaries, literally sitting at his feet. ASo I just didn=t wear it whenever the President was around.@ Several laughed with him and the meeting began.

What effect had this blatant expression of a disobedient attitude from one who should have known better had on those who heard it? I would probably never know for sure. Some would argue that we=re only talking about a necktie. But in my mind=s eye, I could easily imagine these future missionaries struggling, as all successful missionaries must do to some extent, to come to an understanding of the importance of obedience in their own lives. My disobedient and unthinking returned missionary certainly had not made their struggle for understanding any easier.

A year or two later I would unexpectedly encounter this same young man in a parking lot in Utah. We chatted briefly about how he was doing and what he was doing after having left Ricks College. I couldn=t help but notice that he was wearing very short cutoffs and a tanktop. It hadn=t just been about neckties, after all. It was, in fact, about obedience and temple covenants. How many others had been, and would be affected by the poor choices he was making in his own life?

Sister Yaeko Seki experienced part of this precious promise. She writes:
“My family and I were spending a day at the Japan Alps National Park. … I was pregnant with our fourth child and was feeling rather tired, so I lay down under the trees. … I began thinking about our financial problems. My heart became overwhelmed, and I burst into tears. ‘Lord, we are full-tithe payers. We have sacrificed so much. When will the windows of heaven open unto us and our burdens be lightened?’
“I prayed with all my heart. Then I turned to watch my husband and children playing and laughing together. … Suddenly, the Spirit testified to me that my blessings were abundant and that my family was the greatest blessing Heavenly Father could give me.”

Thank you a thousand times over for the March 1988 issue on service. About three months ago I was assigned a service project for a bi-stake youth conference, and I stewed and fretted over my assignment for days. Why me? What could I possibly do to make this a success and yet fun and rewarding for these 14–18-year-olds? And with so many youth, it just had to go over well.

Days later my son Cleon received his New Era, and I went through it as I always do. WOW!—an answer to my prayers. Our youth conference is over now, and I had to sit down and thank you and the New Haven Connecticut Stake that shared this idea.

Our service project was a big hit, and the youth learned a lesson also in missionary work, because they now realize that everyone doesn’t open their doors with welcoming smiles and eagerness to all that knock on them. Now I know why, evermore, I appreciate and enjoy getting the New Era each month.

Linda PeckWinston Ward Young Women PresidentRoseburg, Oregon Stake

One Sunday after returning home from church, I fell asleep for most of the afternoon.
It was dark when I woke up. I started my weekly planning with a prayer to ask how I could best serve the Lord. I felt impressed to go home teaching. It was already 8:00 p.m., so I told myself that I would go the following Tuesday, but the impression to go that night became stronger.
I was reminded of the counsel I heard Elder Ronald A. Rasband of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles give at the missionary training center in Lima, Peru, while I was a teacher there: “Follow the first impression.” I immediately called my home teaching companion, but he did not answer. I decided to go anyway.
I left the house and noticed a young priest in my ward walking down the street. I approached him and asked if he would accompany me. He agreed. At the first home, the brother opened the door. I told him I felt I needed to see him. He smiled and told us he was having an operation the next day and would appreciate a blessing. I gave him a blessing, and we left for our next visit.
It was 8:40 p.m. when we arrived at the next family’s house. They were surprised to see us because it was so late. We entered their home and noticed that the father was sick. I offered to give him a blessing.
As we returned home, I shared Moroni 7:13 with my young companion: “Every thing which inviteth and enticeth to do good, and to love God, and to serve him, is inspired of God.”
I told him that what had just happened was no accident because I had received a prompting. He said he believed it because before I approached him, he had prayed to know how to recognize the Spirit.
I don’t know if the impression to go home teaching was more for my families or for this young priest, but I am grateful I listened. I know great blessings come as we follow the first impression of the Spirit.

Stephen Fairbanks and Heather Colbert have lots of experience living in different worlds. Both of them should still be in high school but left a year early to attend a special college program at Clarkson University in Potsdam, New York. Then, on Sunday, they cross the U.S. border to attend their church meetings in Montreal.
“We have strong testimonies,” says Stephen. “It doesn’t matter where we come from, whether we are at an activity in Canada or in New York. We are all God’s children. Because of the way we are living, it doesn’t matter.”
Heather says she couldn’t agree more.
“It’s kind of neat to know the Canadians because we get to see what they are like and they get to see what we are like,” she says. “It kind of broadens our minds that we are all members of the Church. It’s like a universal language.”

Thanks for the birthday card. Brenda said that she got one from you too. It’s fun to have a cousin born on the same day. Sometimes we pretend that we’re twins. Because it was our eighth birthday, we had our party together with all the cousins and aunts and uncles. Everyone went bowling—and Grandma Richards won!
Then we came to our house and played games. We had a piñata, and Mom blindfolded us and turned us around and around before we could swing the bat at it. Brenda got too dizzy and knocked a lamp off a table. It didn’t break, though. Whew!
After that, we made our own pizzas. They looked funny, but they tasted great. Because our birthdays are in the middle of July, Brenda made a pioneer face on hers and I made mine look like an American flag. Scooter wanted to put chocolate chips on my pizza for the stars, but Mom stopped him. She let him put some on his piece of cake, instead.
We had one huge birthday cake. One half was chocolate, and the other half butterscotch. It had yellow candles, and Brenda and I blew them out together. We had ice cream, too, and I ate a scoop of pralines-and-cream for you.

A good example of someone experiencing an abundant life as a result of looking outside themselves and focusing on the needs of others are my parents. Their second child and my older brother Ken was born deaf. Years ago it was common for young deaf children to begin their formal education when they were around 4 years old. As a result my parents would drive Sunday evenings for 2 1/2 /hours from their home in Mackay, Idaho and drop their young son off for the week at the State School for the Deaf and Blind in Gooding, Idaho. They would then pick him up that Friday afternoon and drive back home to Mackay for the short weekend and then repeat the process weekly.

It did not take long for my parents to realize that in their minds this was not the best way to raise a family so they made the decision to move from their home in Mackay and the area they loved and moved to Gooding. They put aside their personal interests and focused on what was best for their family. Little did they know that a few years later another daughter and son would later join the family that were also deaf. I do not ever recall my parents ever saying "Why us?" All I remember was my parents being actively involved in the lives of each of their children. They raised us in a gospel centered home and were great examples to us of serving others. They made the most of a difficult situation and proceeded to live their own version of an abundant life. They did this by always putting the needs and interests of their family and others ahead of their own. For the last several years they have served faithfully in their church callings, served a mission together in Nauvoo, served countless hours in the temple, and provided countless hours of service to their children and grandchildren. The key component in my opinion that allowed my parents to experience their abundant life is the fact that they forgot about themselves and instead have always looked for ways to serve others.

The day was scorching; my sister, Susie, and I waited impatiently outside the church for Dad to pick us up following his weekly golf game. The sweat trickled down my back; Susie’s golden curls were wet and drooping. I remember watching with envy as my friends left the church with their parents. I wished with all my heart that Mom and Dad would come with us to church. I had even prayed about it. But they always thought they were too busy or too tired. By the time Dad picked us up, we were half baked. I was angry at both him and Mom.
Mom had stayed home, as usual, fixing dinner. We sat around the table now, but I was still burning up inside. I detest spinach, so rather than taking any, I passed the bowl to Susie. Instantly, both Dad and Mom were nagging at me, saying, “Take some spinach, Dan! It’s good for you!”
I had reached my limit. I retorted, “Why don’t you come to church? It’s good for you, just like spinach is for me!” Dad struck me, and Mom left the table crying. I ran from the house angry and hurt.
“Am I a Christian, Rebecca?” I asked, as I came back to the present. “Let’s say I used to be.” She sensed my need for silence.
We walked along the dark, tree-lined street; only the crunching sound of autumn leaves under our feet interrupted the silence. I felt so alone in the cold, dark world. More than anything else I wanted Rebecca’s friendship. She seemed so sure of herself, so at peace with herself. I wanted to draw from her strength, to learn from her wisdom. I looked down at my feet, afraid of her warm eyes.
“Rebecca,” I whispered softly. “What is it that makes you so special?”
I could have guessed that she would say it was her belief in Deity; she impressed me as a deeply religious girl. I wondered, though, which religion was to receive the credit for making her so sensitive, tender, and caring.
I pressed further. “What is your religion, Rebecca? Are you Catholic, Protestant, or something else?”
Her lips held just a hint of a smile. “I guess I fall into the ‘something else’ category, Dan. I’m searching for truth wherever I can find it. I discover it in some unusual places. But I can’t help but wonder one thing. Is there one religion that contains all of the truth?”
Her question pricked me deeply. Her eyes were searching mine, imploring. I looked away—my past blazed before me. Silently, I bowed my head and prayed. I hadn’t done that in years! After a long moment, I returned her gaze.
“Rebecca,” I slowly began, “what do you know about the Mormon church?”

In various parts of the world, obtaining a computer and Internet access presents a challenge for some who are eager to index. This is the situation leaders in the Mexico City Zarahemla Stake faced when they decided to get the youth involved in indexing. Because not all of the youth had computers in their homes, stake leaders decided to reserve a local school’s computer labs after hours for them to use.
The youth then worked to index Mexican census records from 1930. “As the youth reviewed the documents,” says Bishop Darío Zapata Vivas, “they imagined people moving from house to house collecting all this information without knowing that someday their efforts would assist the Lord’s work of bringing ‘to pass the immortality and eternal life of man’” (Moses 1:39).
Through the creative efforts of the stake leaders to obtain the needed technology, the youth and other members of the stake were able to index over 300,000 records within one month.

For example, my daughter Ella and I were visiting the sacred Daoist mountain of Wudang in China. As we climbed up the mountain toward the Dayue celestial palace, we noticed the railings were covered in padlocks. One interesting feature of these padlocks was that they did not have a keyhole or a combination. Once you locked them, they could not be unlocked. Our guide explained in halting English, “Honeymoon lovers will carve their names on the lock and then lock it to the railing so that their love will last forever. Or someone will engrave the name of a grandparent who has died so that they can be locked together for eternity.” This, of course, reflects the deep desire for belonging and connection that we see realized in the sealing ordinances of the temple.

A good example of compassion and service making a difference is the example of Don and Marian Summers, which represents the experiences of many other missionary couples. While serving in England, they were asked to serve the last six months of their mission in the Swindon Branch to teach and assist in activating members. For eighty years Swindon had been a branch with a faithful few and with many good members becoming less active.
Don and Marian recently wrote me, recalling the following:
“Our first visit to Swindon Branch was a bit disheartening as we met with the Saints in a cold, rented hall. The congregation numbered seventeen, including President and Sister Hales and four missionaries. Still wearing our winter coats, we all huddled around a small, inadequate heater while we listened to a Sunday School lesson.”
The letter continued:
“A branch member approached me one day: ‘Elder Summers, can I give you a bit of advice? Never mention the word tithing to the Swindon members; they really don’t believe in it, and all you will do is upset them.’”
Brother Summers said, “We did teach tithing and all the other gospel principles. With example and the encouragement of a branch president, there was a change of heart, and faith and activity started to increase. The membership records were completely updated as we visited every member’s home. When the leaders started caring, the members began to respond, and a whole new spirit pervaded the branch. The members became excited again about the gospel and helping one another.
“Firesides were held in our homes, and we worked closely with stake and other proselyting missionaries. We made a promise to the Lord that we would not let one new or reactivated member fall into inactivity while we were in Swindon.
“One young couple had a difficult adjustment to make as their customs, manners, and dress were different. They became offended at suggestions for changes. The couple twice wrote to the bishop [since by then it was a ward] and asked to have their names removed from the Church records. In the last letter they forbade any of the members to visit them, so Marian and I went to the florist and purchased a beautiful plant of chrysanthemums and had it delivered to the young couple. It was a simple note: ‘We love you; we miss you; we need you. Please come back.’ Signed, Swindon Ward.
“The next Sunday was fast and testimony meeting and our last Sunday in Swindon. There were 103 members in attendance compared to seventeen six months before. The young couple was there and, in bearing his testimony, the husband thanked the Swindon Ward for not giving up on them.”