Gospel Story Finder

Not too many days later, I got a phone call from a member of the Church I knew named Dave. He asked if I wanted to come to his house on Saturday night. He also invited me to join his family for dinner the next day. It sounded like a lot more fun than I was currently having with no friends, so I agreed.
Dave and I had a good time together—and, of course, there were no cigarettes or alcohol. As I listened to Dave’s dad say the prayer at dinner, I felt so good. I began to think that maybe—just maybe—things were getting better.
Dave and I became best friends. We played football together, went to school together, helped each other go on missions. When we got back, we were college roommates. We helped each other find the right women to marry and kept each other on the strait and narrow path all the way to the temple and after. All these years later, we’re still good friends. And it all started with a simple phone call, right when I needed it.

I have been blessed to feel that peace every time I enter the sacred temple. I recall the first day I walked into the Salt Lake Temple. I was a young man.
I looked up at a high white ceiling that made the room so light it seemed almost as if it were open to the sky. And in that moment, the thought came into my mind in clear words: “I have been in this lighted place before.” But then immediately there came into my mind, not in my own voice, these words: “No, you have never been here before. You are remembering a moment before you were born. You were in a sacred place like this where the Lord could come.”

His courageous faith is also shown when he was called to serve one of his missions in England. After a difficult journey from Far West, Missouri, Elder Taylor arrived in New York with only one cent in his pocket. But he was not one to plead poverty, and in answer to questions if he had any money, he said he did. The next day, Elder Parley P. Pratt approached him:

“Brother Taylor, I hear you have plenty of money.”

“Yes, Brother Pratt, that’s true.”

“Well,” said Elder Pratt, “I am about to publish my Voice of Warning and Millennial Poems; I am very much in need of money, and if you could furnish me two or three hundred dollars I should be very much obliged.”

“Well, Brother Parley, you are welcome to anything I have, if it will be of service to you.” At that he put his hand in his pocket and gave Elder Pratt the penny.

They both laughed heartily, and then Elder Pratt said, “But I thought you gave it out that you had plenty of money.”

“Yes, and so I have,” replied Elder Taylor. “I am well clothed, you furnish me plenty to eat and drink and good lodging; with all these things and a penny over, as I owe nothing, is not that plenty?”

That evening, at a meeting of some of the Brethren who were preparing to go to England, Elder Pratt proposed that they assist Elder Taylor with means to pay his passage. Elder Taylor objected, saying that if they had anything, they should give it to Elder Pratt instead, because he had a family to support and needed money for publishing. Wilford Woodruff, a great man of faith himself, expressed regret at Elder Taylor’s position.

“Oh there will be no difficulty about that,” replied Elder Taylor. “Go and take passage for me on your vessel, and I will furnish you the means.”

Then—from various persons who were moved upon by the Spirit of the Lord—Elder Taylor received voluntary donations that were sufficient for him to pay not only his own passage, but also that of another elder. (See Roberts, pages 72–74.)

A short time before his 24th birthday, President Heber J. Grant accepted a call from President John Taylor to preside over the Tooele Stake. He said the appointment came as a great surprise to him, and he had many feelings of inadequacy, particularly in the area of public speaking. About his first speaking assignment, he said:

I remember preaching and telling everything I could think of, and some of it over twice, and [I] ran out of ideas in seven minutes and a half by the watch. . . .
The next Sunday I did not do any better. I ran out of ideas in six or seven minutes. The next Sunday I did the same.

This continued. There are no accounts to indicate whether the Saints in Tooele were really that disappointed, but obviously President Grant felt great distress. Then, in the little town of Vernon, he later recounted:

I got up to make my little speech of five, six or seven minutes, and I talked for forty-five minutes, with as much freedom and as much of the Spirit of the Lord as I have ever enjoyed in preaching the gospel, during the forty years that have passed since then. I could not restrain the tears of gratitude which I shed that night, as I knelt down and thanked God for the rich outpouring of his Holy Spirit.

Heber J. Grant’s story, however, does not end there; you need to hear about the next Sunday. He explained:

I went to Grantsville, the largest ward in the Tooele stake of Zion, and I approached the Lord with much the same attitude as Oliver Cowdery when he told the Lord, “I want to translate.” . . . But, failing, he was later told, he did not study it out, and he did not pray about it, and he did not do his share. I told the Lord I would like to talk again to the Saints [as I had done in Vernon]. I got up and talked for five minutes, and I sweat as freely, I believe, as if I had been dipped in a creek, and I ran out of ideas completely. I made as complete a “fizzle,” so to speak, of my talk, as a mortal could make. [Heber J. Grant, “Significant Counsel to the Young People of the Church,” Improvement Era, August 1921, 870–71; see also Preston Nibley, The Presidents of the Church (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1974), 224–26]

President Grant later wrote of his humble prayers that followed that meeting. He wrote:

I asked God to forgive me for not remembering that men can not preach the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ with power, with force, and with inspiration only as they are blessed with power which comes from God. [Grant, “Significant Counsel,” 871–72; see also Nibley, Presidents, 226]

Which would you rather do: Spend a day cruising the San Francisco Bay on a ship, or clean up a house in your neighborhood so that needy families can use it? Seems like a no-brainer, right? A hot summer day calls for some rest and relaxation. Case closed.
Closed, that is, unless you’re a priest or a Laurel in the Manteca California Stake. They gave up a planned one-day cruise to join with the younger youth to paint and clean a house designated for families that are getting back on their feet financially.
Okay, okay. So they helped. But they probably didn’t have a very good time, right?
Wrong again. Outside, young people doing yard work trimmed bushes into smiley-face designs. Inside, they raced to see who could clean up the fastest. All of the youth made the projects into games and had a good feeling about what they were doing.
“I could really feel the Spirit there, and I knew I was doing the right thing,” says participant Cherie Farnes.
Apparently, town leaders agree. The activity was covered in a local newspaper article, and an editorial urged others to follow the lead of the youth, saying, “The project shows what can be accomplished by volunteers who are committed and organized.”

Our third child was born while we were living in Germany and Bruce was serving as branch president. I had three children under the age of three to care for while he served. I often felt isolated and alone. One Sunday after teaching a Relief Society lesson, I received a clear impression: “The Lord loves a plodder.”
That gift of personal revelation let me know that the Lord recognized my struggle. It gave me the hope and strength I needed to keep going, even if I was just plodding along.

Ketchikan, Alaska, is one of the larger towns in Alaska, but it would be a rather small town in most other states. The houses seem to hug the ocean shoreline along the bottom of the mountains. Virtually every street is uphill or downhill. Even though it is in Alaska, Ketchikan doesn’t get much snow in the winter, but it rains—a lot. If you live where you can see the water, then you can relax while you watch whales passing by. And, in the mornings, you have to be a little bit careful when you step outdoors. You might happen across an unhappy moose or a bear rummaging through your trash.
Ketchikan has one ward. The Church members meet in their unique all-wood building on Sundays, and, because the chapel is just a block or so from the high school, it is also one of the favorite spots for Latter-day Saint teens. It’s where they head every morning for seminary, once a week for Mutual and sports, maybe on Saturdays for service projects, and helping out with other ward activities.
And it is where they have learned the meaning of fasting.
Last year, just before school started, the priests of the Ketchikan Ward were having a lesson on fasting. They started discussing how much easier it was for them to fast with a purpose instead of feeling like they were just starving. Russell Youngberg said, “We realized that school was about to start and a fast Sunday was coming up, so we sort of put the two together. The entire ward youth would fast for each other to be able to resist temptations and have a good school year.”
Forrest Allred remembers how they came up with the idea. “We were talking about how to make the youth stronger and more righteous. We were confident that fasting would work.”
The bishop also thought it was a great idea. He invited the Young Women to join in. Amanda Youngberg said, “The bishopric came into the Young Women classes and asked if we wanted to participate in the fast. We all did it together.”
They planned for the first weekend of September. They started their fast individually on Saturday afternoon. For some, having a distinct reason helped. Kaitlyn Skinner said, “Our parents could join us in our fast, but since the youth were fasting together, it was easier for me.”
For others, fasting was not easy because of where they were. Russell Johnston was playing a football game in Anchorage. “For me it was kind of awkward. We got done with our game, and I started fasting. Since we were out of town, I had to go to restaurants with my buddies and watch them eat …”
He pauses and takes a breath, “… and listen to them hassle me about fasting. On the plane home, I was still fasting. They kept asking me, ‘Why do you have all those rules?’ ‘You can do what you want.’ ‘Why are you doing this?’ Sometimes it’s hard to explain why, but most of the time I knew what to say to them. In the end, my friends were saying to those who were harassing me, ‘Be quiet, at least he follows his religion.’ They stood up for me in the end.”
The next day, fast Sunday, all the youth met after fast and testimony meeting in the seminary room. Adam Fitzgerald, one of the priests who talked about the original idea, described what happened. “I remember feeling the Spirit really strong. We all knelt, which was hard to do because the room was very full. The bishop gave the prayer for us. I remember him talking about us having a good year and that we would become bonded to one another and resist temptations throughout the year and continue our growth and development. Personally, as he was saying those things, I knew that it was going to be that way.”
Learning the purpose of fasting starts with understanding its power. Perla Busch started fasting when she was about 10. She said, “My friends were asking me why I was doing this. I told them I feel like I needed to. I’m always having to explain why I choose to do something different.”
A relatively new member of the ward, Malia Dyakanoff, says, “Fasting is still hard for me, but when I have a reason to fast, then it’s easier.”
Sarah Fitzgerald, who has just entered Beehives, said, “The first time I ever tried fasting was a couple of days after my baptism. It’s not easy, but it’s worth it.”
Sarah’s brother Adam explains what he has learned about the reasons to fast. “I think it helps you to focus more. It helps you become humble, and it’s a symbol of how devoted you are to what you’re doing. You know that Heavenly Father recognizes you and blesses you in your pursuits.”
Ryan Gray was on the student council at Ketchikan High School and noticed that the LDS students were more connected after their fast. “In this school, we’re small in number. We all have our own friends, but we’re all friends at the ward. We’ve got strength. Fasting for each other was a good way to start the year.”
Being in a small town, there aren’t a lot of things for young people to do. The LDS teens are blessed because they have Mutual, firesides, family home evenings, temple trips, and in the summer there are youth conferences and camps.
Perla says, “Teens who aren’t members get into smoking, drugs, and alcohol. They don’t have much else to do. But we find things to do.”
Even traveling to stake events is something to look forward to. Jenny Youngberg asks, “Do you know what we have to do to get to stake events like youth conference and girls’ camp?”
Since the only way in or out of Ketchikan is by plane or boat, Cortney Kiffer is quick to explain, “We have to take the ferry to Juneau. We get to spend all day and night with our friends and ward leaders on the ferry. It’s the best. When we travel for sports in high school, then we see kids we met at youth conference. It’s really fun to see them.”
Jenny adds, “Having to travel is not a bad thing. It’s awesome. We know the kids in the stake as well as we know kids in our own ward.”
This unity, these friendships, these positive choices are the very things the teens were fasting for.
Russell says, “I think our fast made a difference, at least it has to me. It seems whenever any member sees another member at school, we stop and talk on the way to class. It feels like there is a stronger bond in the youth group. As for the fast, my stomach did the same stuff as always when I fast, but we all had a purpose for fasting, and that made it a lot different.”
Fasting and prayer can help develop within us courage and confidence. It can strengthen our character and build self-restraint and discipline. Often when we fast, our righteous prayers and petitions have greater power. … Each time we fast, we gain a little more control over our worldly appetites and passions.”Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Ensign, May 2001, 73.

The day after that Cindy came to our house to play dolls with me and my sisters, Katie and Shauna. Suddenly Cindy asked, “Janna Lynn, what is the Holy Ghost?”
Her question surprised me so much that I couldn’t think what to say. Katie is two years older than I am, and I looked at her for help, but she didn’t look up. She just went on brushing her doll’s hair.
I guess Cindy figured I didn’t understand her question, because she tried again. “In church yesterday your dad put his hands on your head and said, ‘Receive the Holy Ghost.’ What is the Holy Ghost?”
I got real busy tying a bonnet on my doll. It gave me a minute to think. To me the Holy Ghost simply was, and He didn’t need explaining. But I knew Cindy would insist on an answer. Finally I said, “Well, the gift of the Holy Ghost is really neat.”
“What does the Holy Ghost do?” Cindy asked.
“He’s a spirit person, and we can’t see Him. But He helps people to know the right thing to do.”
“Oh,” she said.
I was glad that she didn’t ask any more questions.

Not long ago, my wife and I joined a dear friend in a sealing room of the Bountiful Utah Temple. I first met this friend when she was a child in Córdoba, Argentina. My missionary companion and I were contacting people in a neighborhood just blocks away from the mission office, and she answered the door when we came to her home. In due time, she and her mother and siblings joined the Church, and they have remained faithful members. She is now a lovely woman, and this day we were in the temple to seal her deceased parents to one another and then seal her to them.

A couple who over the years have become close friends represented her parents at the altar. It was an emotional moment that became even sweeter when our Argentine friend was sealed to her parents. There were just six of us present on a quiet afternoon away from the world, and yet one of the most important things that ever takes place on the earth was happening. I was gratified that my role and association had come full circle from knocking on her door as a young missionary to now, these many years later, performing the sealing ordinances that linked her to her parents and past generations.

Truman was among the first group of Saints to enter the Salt Lake Valley in 1847. Two years earlier he had been told in a patriarchal blessing that “thy calling is more particularly to labor in assisting the Saints to build cities and temples than traveling abroad to preach the gospel.” His abilities as an architect were recognized by President Brigham Young, and soon Truman was busy designing homes, schools, churches, a sugar factory, forts, stores, a penitentiary, a theater, a governor’s mansion, and most importantly, temples.

Many beautiful buildings still stand today as proof of Truman Angell’s architectural talent. The Salt Lake and St. George temples, Brigham Young’s Beehive House, the Lion House, and the Eagle Gate are just a few examples of his work.

Truman considered his work a calling rather than a job. Most workers donated a tenth of their time to Church projects, but full-time workers like Truman were paid in tithing scrip, which could be exchanged for groceries, clothing, and other necessities.

Truman studied architectural design and innovations in building. The constant pressure of being the Church’s architect was strain on his health, so Brigham Young called him to serve a mission in Europe. There he was not only to preach to the people, but also to visit the great buildings and study the architectural styles. He had been on his mission for thirteen months when he was called to return to help with the Salt Lake Temple.

Work on the temple did not progress very rapidly at first. There were several delays, such as the time United States President James Buchanan sent federal troops to Utah with a new governor to replace Brigham Young. The Saints, remembering the mob violence of the East, were not going to allow their new homes and lands to be plundered again. They stripped their homes of valuables and filled them with straw to be set afire if and when hostile troops came. Even the foundation of the temple was covered with dirt, making it appear to be only a plowed field. Fortunately, a peaceful settlement was reached before the troops arrived in Salt Lake.

As the building of the temple progressed, Truman sought the advice and counsel of President Young almost every step of the way. There were many details that had to be taken care of, and the work required Truman’s constant supervision. All his efforts were devoted to serving the Lord, despite constant poor health and personal heartaches.

Truman Angell did not live to see the completion of the beautiful Salt Lake Temple. It was dedicated in April 1893, and this year marks the 100th anniversary of that great event. This majestic structure stands as a monument to Brother Angell’s and other Saints’ dedication in building the Lord’s kingdom here on earth.

We had a great season, even though we lost more games than we won. At the end of the season, the whole team was invited to a team member’s birthday party. They were going to have a barbecue and go swimming. It was going to be the last time I would see the kids on my baseball team, because we weren’t in the same grades and went to different schools. I was really excited about going until I realized that it was on a Sunday.
My parents didn’t think a birthday party was an appropriate activity for Sunday, but they told me I was old enough to make my own choice. I really, really wanted to go. The party was three weeks away. I prayed and I prayed about it. I decided to go to the party, even though I didn’t feel completely right about it.
A few days later I was reading the Book of Mormon and came across 2 Nephi 28:8, which says, “Eat, drink, and be merry; nevertheless, fear God—he will justify in committing a little sin.” [2 Ne. 28:8] I excitedly told Mom that I found my answer—it was OK for me to go to the party!
She told me to reread the verse and include the verses that came before and after it. After I read a few more verses, I realized that the scriptures were telling us that saying it is OK to commit a little sin is false and foolish doctrine. No amount of sin is OK. I knew then what I should do, but I still hadn’t made my decision.
I continued to pray about it for the next week. Finally I decided that I shouldn’t go. I felt really good about my decision. My mom called my friend’s mom and told her I wouldn’t be going to the party. On the day of the party, while on the way home from church, we dropped off a present to my friend and said hi to everyone and then went home.
I’m glad I did what I felt Jesus Christ would want me to do, and I’m glad I chose the right.

Sister Hazel Gotts, a widow who is a recent convert, was visited by Gerilynn Price and Mark Packard, the priests quorum group leader. They took her a cake. Mark reports, “I enjoyed talking with a person who has been around so long and seen so much. I think it’s a good way for the youth and older people to get to know and understand each other better. I had a very nice feeling when I left, knowing I had made someone happy, and I know she was very happy to know that someone cares about her. She enjoyed telling us about herself. I think it would be nice if the youth could establish a close relationship with the elderly people in the ward.”

I recall reading several years ago a talk given by President Hinckley telling of the faithfulness of our pioneer forefathers in their observance of the Sabbath. He said:
May I take you back 142 years when there was, of course, no tabernacle here, nor temple, nor Temple Square. On July 24, 1847, the pioneer company of our people came into this valley. An advance group had arrived a day or two earlier. Brigham Young arrived on Saturday. The next day, Sabbath services were held both in the morning and in the afternoon. There was no hall of any kind in which to meet. I suppose that in the blistering heat of that July Sunday they sat on the tongues of their wagons and leaned against the wheels while the Brethren spoke. The season was late, and they were faced with a gargantuan and immediate task if they were to grow seed for the next season. But President Young pleaded with them not to violate the Sabbath then or in the future. [Gordon B. Hinckley, “An Ensign to the Nations,” Ensign, November 1989, p. 51; emphasis added]
Can you possibly imagine how tempting it must have been for our pioneer forefathers to break the Sabbath day? Their survival depended upon the food they could grow and harvest. Yet their leaders counseled them to exercise faith in the promises of the Lord and to respect the Sabbath day.

Sometime, either before, during, or after the call, the Lord confirms to the man being called that his call is of God. One young stake president reported his confirmation this way:
“When I was interviewed, I was 32 years old and had served about four years as bishop. One of those conducting the interviews asked two poignant questions: (1) How did you gain your testimony? and (2) Would you share with us your testimony of the Savior? I shared my experience as a teenager, shortly after my mother passed away, when I learned for myself the truthfulness of the restored gospel, specifically with regard to the Book of Mormon.
“As I shared my testimony of the Savior, I received a witness that I would be called as the next stake president. I drove home and told my wife about my experience. When I told her that I thought I could be called as the next stake president, she responded, ‘You’re good, but you’re not that good.’ The phone rang two hours later, and I was invited to return with my wife, and the call was extended.”

Nikolas and Sergey Chemezov and their parents are also helping the Church grow. And they have seen their own family become closer and closer since embracing the restored gospel in 1992.
Of course, like all brothers, they have similarities and differences. Sergey is 20, Nik, 12; but Nik is the taller of the two. Nik is quiet; Sergey is bolder. Both are athletic, lift weights, and love helicopters. Both are musicians: Nik plays piano; Sergey, violin. Both love the gospel and all it stands for. And both are fiercely loyal to each other and to their parents, Sergey Sr. and Valia.
That loyalty was tested when Valia and the boys returned from an extended visit with her parents and found that Sergey Sr. was investigating the Church. But he persuaded them to listen to the missionaries, to learn what he was learning, and to give it a fair chance.
“I can say the gospel saved our family,” Sergey Jr. says. “I decided to be baptized because of the example of my father. I saw a very big change in him when he joined the Church. He became so nice, so loving. It was a testimony for me.”
“Before,” Sister Chemezov explains, “the family didn’t come first. But now we understand we are an eternal family, and we appreciate one another on a whole new level.”
“I used to think because I was the big brother, I always had to lead the way,” Sergey says. “But now when I stand next to Nik, I see that he is taller than I am. I know that sometimes he teaches me, that when I need help I can count on him.”
Nik has been there not only for Sergey but for his parents as well. “From the time he was baptized, he’s been saying, ‘I want to pass the sacrament; when can I start?’” Brother Chemezov explains. “That kind of excitement has strengthened our own testimonies and our faith. Helping other people and helping his family—Nik understands that’s what the priesthood is all about. He was very happy when he turned 12 and I ordained him a deacon.”
Nik was also happy when the family was sealed in the Freiberg Germany Temple. “After finishing the sessions, we had free time,” Brother Chemezov says. “Other people went to the city and went shopping. I asked the family, ‘Do you want to go to the city?’ and Nik said of the temple, ‘This place is so good; I don’t want to go to another place.’”
“The priesthood has the highest position in my life,” Nik says. “It helps me live as Jesus Christ says we should. I know if we will honor it, God will help us and make us better.”
That’s a reminder Sergey thinks of every day, especially now that he is serving full time in the Japan Tokyo North Mission. Nik, of course, hopes to someday follow his example.

Rochelle moved to a modest duplex in an affluent area in the western United States after spending time in a homeless shelter. Divorced and caring for several children, she worked at two jobs, sometimes three, to be able to afford food and rent, and had been less active, off and on, since her conversion.
“Even though just about everyone in my new ward seemed better off than I was,” she explains, “they reached out to me and accepted the way I dress. Everyone really cared.”
Although under significant financial pressure, Rochelle never resented others for their easier circumstances. “I want to be more secure, definitely, but I never looked at my neighbors’ houses and felt that God had left me behind,” she recalls. “I could feel Him walking beside me even through my poor choices.”
Although Rochelle’s work schedule has been a challenge at times, ward leaders and friends ultimately helped her fulfill a yearning to attend the temple. “Going to the temple regularly helps me be grateful for how far I’ve come,” she observes. “I don’t worry that others might seem ahead of me.”
Rochelle admits that she and her daughters struggle and “are not a perfect LDS family.” Yet she also recognizes that “everyone has problems and no family is really perfect,” a perspective that liberates her from looking sideways at others instead of focusing on her relationship with God.
“My daughters can see what a difference the gospel has made in my life,” she says. “I can feel the difference too and am busy enough with work, family, and Church that I don’t have time for comparisons. I’m just happy to be on the right path.”

At age 18 I decided to leave the Church. For a time, leaving my Savior’s side did not seem to have any repercussions in my life. In my home country of Chile I was able to live comfortably on my salary. I felt I would always be able to finance my worldly lifestyle and could continue to ignore the promises I had made at the age of 14 in the waters of baptism.
I pursued this course for a few years, but then things stopped working out for me. Everything seemed to grow dark around me. I lost my job and had difficulty finding work. I had to do whatever kind of work I could just to survive. This should have made me wake up and find the path once again, but it didn’t.
Not long after this, my father passed away in 1998. Because I was the eldest son, a large part of the responsibility for taking care of my mother and younger brother fell on my shoulders. I bid farewell to my carefree lifestyle and came to realize that sometimes the Lord allows things to happen that we don’t understand until we see the end result.
I believe He allowed me to be drained economically to show me that the only way out was to pay tithing, which I did after returning to church and renewing my covenants. In this manner He patiently and lovingly brought me back to the fold.

We lived on a hill, but it wasn’t so steep that it couldn’t be used for pick-up games of baseball in the spring and summer. The street was the ribbon that tied together the lives of each boy on our block.
After supper was over, the boys would gather on the same corner, and when enough were there, we’d pick sides. We used a rubber ball that we bought at Mr. Pinelli’s variety store for a quarter. We’d play baseball until it became dark.
One breezy June evening, Ricky Cray, the best hitter on the block, was up to bat. My best friend, Chuck Grable, was next to me in the “outfield,” which was the stretch of road between Mr. LaSalle’s and Mr. Kominski’s.
Ricky sized up a belt-high pitch and plastered the ball a good 20 feet beyond my grasp. I put my head down and furiously chased the ball. Suddenly, I came upon two sets of the shiniest black shoes I’d ever seen. I looked up and there were two young men in suits, smiling. One of them was holding the rubber ball.
“Lose something?” he said cheerfully. He flipped the ball to me and I heaved it toward my friends, just as Ricky crossed home plate.
Chuck came over to me. “Who are those guys? That one made a nice catch.” We didn’t see men in suits in our neighborhood often.
“I don’t know. Maybe they’re selling something. Like books.”
“I think they’re police,” confided Chuck.
“No, they’re too young. And they’d be more secret. Look, they’re stopping at every house on the street.”
The next hitter popped a lazy fly ball toward Chuck who easily snagged it. We went to take our turn at bat. Home plate was near our house, and the two men in suits were just stepping to the door.
Father answered. I heard one of the young men say they were from a church and they had a message about families. Father sized them up.
“Are you selling something?” he asked.
“No, sir,” replied the one who had fielded the ball.
“Are you honest?” Father asked. It would have been an odd question from anyone but my father. That’s the way he was, a man who took himself and others at face value.
“Yes, sir, we try to be,” the same man answered without hesitation.
“Are you boys from around here?”
“No. Elder Cone is from Bountiful, Utah. And I’m from Boston.”
Father smiled. “Then come into my house. I’m Joseph Rosa, and this is my wife, Leslee.” As soon as the one said he was from Boston, I knew my father would invite them in. A little thing like that, being from Massachusetts. Yet it changed our lives forever.
We saw the young men in the suits and white shirts many times over the following weeks. Father and Mother listened to them, prayed with them, studied with them, and fed them pasta until they almost could no longer get into their suits. When the elders came, Father pulled me out of the baseball games. “If what they say is true, then you need to hear it also,” he told me. I could see how important this was to my parents. Father’s eyes blazed as the missionaries taught us. “Yes, that seems right. I’ve always believed that,” he often said.
“We have reached a decision as a family,” Father told the missionaries one night. They both looked nervously at each other. “We would like to be baptized.” The two young men almost leaped into the air. The following night, Father and I went to a department store and bought our church clothes. A week later, the four of us were baptized. Never again did my parents talk about the missing piece. We had found it.

For as long as I can remember, my mother has sent family file names to the temple with the youth and the young single adults. It wasn’t until my first semester in college that I truly learned to appreciate this.
A few weeks before I moved to a neighboring stake, my mother took our family to a cemetery in search of family names and dates. On her list of ancestors was a woman named Mary Redhead. I volunteered to look for the tombstone of this Mary Redhead, immediately attracted to her uncommon surname.
The cemetery was small and it wasn’t long before I realized she wasn’t there. Eventually it was time to go, and I was very discouraged at not being able to find the dates needed to send her name to the temple.
We made our way to the next cemetery to find more names and dates. I had an overwhelming feeling of desperation as I searched stone after stone. I didn’t have much success until we were about to leave. I came to a tombstone that was barely readable. I traced my fingers along the carvings hoping for some luck. Mary Redhead. There she was! I couldn’t explain why it meant so much to me to find her.
Weeks went by and I found myself busy with all the anxieties and stress that come when a person leaves home to go to school for the first time. I forgot about Mary Redhead. It was on the night of a tri-stake young single adult temple trip when I remembered her again.
I was filing through the pink cards that the matron gave me when I came across the name of Mary Redhead. It didn’t occur to me that my mother would have submitted the names we had looked for, but there she was. I was overwhelmed. I felt as if Mary had chosen me to be baptized for her. I have never felt so close to my ancestors in all my life.
I truly have a great love for my ancestors and genealogy now. I am blessed to know that families are forever and that we need each other no matter what side of the veil we’re on.

A year ago this summer, our youngest son, who was at the University of Michigan getting an MBA, spent the summer as an intern with a nationally known company. On the first day of his internship, the company leaders spoke to the interns and indicated to them that the company sought to have the highest standards of honesty and incorruptibility .

During the summer, our son was on an assignment in the city where he was living, and where he therefore did not have his lunch expenses paid by the company. His co-worker had been assigned there from another city, and was therefore there on expense account. When they went to lunch she suggested that she pick up his lunch tab, because her expenses were paid. He said: "Well, that wouldn't be right, because I am not entitled to an expense account lunch while here."

It was a small thing perhaps, but meaningful. When he had his exit interview at the end of the summer with the executive in charge, the man said to him:

"I understand that you took to heart our talk about honesty and high standards." My son said: "Yes, but I am not sure to what you refer." The executive said: "Well, it has to do with whether or not you are entitled to have your lunch put on someone else's expense account." He graduated with an MBA last spring, and given the standards that that company strives to have, it is not surprising that he was offered a job, and he is now working for them full time.