Gospel Story Finder

The article “CTR Rings in the Principal’s Office” (Mar. 2007), which tells of a girl who told her school principal about the Church when the principal asked about the girl’s CTR ring, inspired my five-year-old son and other Primary children in our branch to always wear their CTR rings.
My son and another child had their first missionary experience when their schoolteachers asked about the rings and the children were able to tell them about the Church.
Aleksey Dobrovolskyy, Ukraine

On Wednesday, May 21, Elder Kearon met again with Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David of the Diocese of Kalookan at San Roque Cathedral compound in Caloocan City. Together, the two faith leaders ministered to 250 parolees and former detainees participating in the diocese’s Kaagapay Ministry Project, a community-based drug rehabilitation program. Elder Kearon led in the donation of Church-published emotional resilience materials as well as food and hygiene kits to the participants.

“It was wonderful to see Cardinal David again,” Elder Kearon beamed, “he is constantly caring for those who might be forgotten.” In turn, Cardinal David expressed appreciation for Elder Kearon and the Church’s efforts: “The elders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have been our partners in our many advocacies since I was still an auxiliary bishop of San Fernando, Pampanga, and serving as parish priest of Holy Rosary Parish.”

I know of a young man who, as a Christian trying one church after another, could not find one that had a prophet. Only among the Jewish people did he find mention of prophets, and so he accepted the Jewish religion.
In the summer of 1964 he went to New York City and visited the World’s Fair. He entered the Mormon Pavilion and saw pictures of the prophets of the Old Testament. His heart warmed within him as he heard the missionaries speak with appreciation of these great men of ages past through whom Jehovah revealed His will.
Then as he progressed through the pavilion, he heard of modern prophets—Joseph Smith and others who were called prophets, seers, and revelators. Something stirred within him. His spirit responded to the testimony of the missionaries. He was baptized and later served a mission in South America, where he made many converts. Since returning home, he has become the means of bringing his family and others into the Church. It is heartwarming to hear him testify that Joseph Smith was indeed a prophet of God, as were all who have succeeded him in this high and sacred calling.

Brothers and sisters, six months ago as we met together in our general conference, my sweet wife, Frances, lay in the hospital, having suffered a devastating fall just a few days earlier. In May, after weeks of valiantly struggling to overcome her injuries, she slipped into eternity. Her loss has been profound. She and I were married in the Salt Lake Temple on October 7, 1948. Tomorrow would have been our 65th wedding anniversary. She was the love of my life, my trusted confidant, and my closest friend. To say that I miss her does not begin to convey the depth of my feelings.

This conference marks 50 years since I was called to the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles by President David O. McKay. Through all these years I have felt nothing but the full and complete support of my sweet companion. Countless are the sacrifices she made so that I could fulfill my calling. Never did I hear a word of complaint from her as I was often required to spend days and sometimes weeks away from her and from our children. She was an angel, indeed.

I wish to express my thanks, as well as those of my family, for the tremendous outpouring of love which has come to us since Frances’s passing. Hundreds of cards and letters were sent from around the world expressing admiration for her and condolences to our family. We received dozens of beautiful floral arrangements. We are grateful for the numerous contributions which have been offered in her name to the General Missionary Fund of the Church. On behalf of those of us whom she left behind, I express deep gratitude for your kind and heartfelt expressions.

Of utmost comfort to me during this tender time of parting have been my testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ and the knowledge I have that my dear Frances lives still. I know that our separation is temporary. We were sealed in the house of God by one having authority to bind on earth and in heaven. I know that we will be reunited one day and will never again be separated. This is the knowledge that sustains me.

I remember well an experience I had as a passenger in a small two-propeller airplane. One of its engines suddenly burst open and caught on fire. The propeller of the flaming engine wasn’t moving anymore. As we dropped in a steep spiral dive toward the earth, I expected to die. Some of the passengers screamed in hysterical panic.
Miraculously the steep dive put out the flames. Then, by starting up the other engine, the pilot was able to get the plane under control and bring us down safely.
Throughout that ordeal, though I “knew” death was coming, I was not afraid to die. I remember a sense of returning home to meet ancestors for whom I had done temple work. I remember my deep sense of gratitude that my sweetheart and I had been sealed eternally to each other and to our children, born and raised in the covenant.
The Lord has said, “Fear not even unto death; for in this world your joy is not full, but in me your joy is full” (D&C 101:36).
I realized that day that my marriage in the temple was my most important accomplishment. Honors bestowed upon me by men could not approach the inner peace provided by sealings performed in the house of the Lord.

Another example of dedication is found in the life of Julia Smith Ballard. Julia made a burial suit for one of her little nephews when she was sixteen and another the next year for one of her sisters. She found satisfaction in this occupation and took it up as a lifetime call. For the next thirty-five years she made temple and burial clothing for more than 400 persons, nearly all without special remuneration.22 At one time one of her daughters—she had twelve children—had been promised a new dress for a special occasion. She rushed home from school full of anticipation only to find her mother sewing on burial clothes. Her disappointment was so great that she burst into tears and said, “I wish folks would quit dying so us kids could have something to wear.”23 Thus did Julia show her love for the gospel.

Another diligent member is Talma “John” Bastian. Born in Haiti, Brother Bastian was introduced to the gospel by his friend Antoine Ferrier. After reading two Church pamphlets, Talma asked his friend for more information. Brother Ferrier gave him some Church books, including A Marvelous Work and a Wonder by Elder LeGrand Richards. He read the books eagerly and was ready when the missionaries came to him. He now serves as elders quorum president in the Soldier Road Branch.

I know of a wonderful man who grew up with love for the Church. But when he became involved in his business career, obsessed with ambition, he began in effect to deny the faith. The manner of his living became almost a repudiation of his loyalty. Then fortunately, before he had gone too far, he heard the whisperings of the still, small voice. There came a saving sense of remorse. He turned around and became the president of a great stake of Zion.

A few years ago, I had a stake conference assignment in California. On the flight back to Utah, a beautiful lady in her mid-70s sat beside me. Her name was Patti, and she loved to talk.
Patti told me all about her family—about her husband and her son who had died. Our conversation went on until we were about to land. I said, “Patti, you have been talking for most of the flight. Before we land in Salt Lake City, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”
I asked her sincerely, “Patti, do you know you will see your deceased husband again?”
She said, “Oh, is that possible?”
Then I asked, “Do you know you will also see again your deceased son, Matt, who died as a baby?”
Her eyes became moist, and her voice was shaking. The Spirit of the Lord touched her. She had missed them so much.
Then I prayerfully asked her, “Patti, do you know you have a loving and kind Heavenly Father, who loves you so dearly?”
She said, “Do I?”
I asked, “Patti, do you know your Heavenly Father has a special plan for you and that your family can be forever?”
“Can we?” she replied.
“Have you ever heard the plan before?” I asked.
She said, “No.”
Very sincerely I asked her, “Would you like to know about it?”
“Yes, I would,” she responded.
The Spirit of the Lord touched her deeply.
The missionaries taught Patti. Three weeks later, while she was staying in Utah, Patti called me: “Brother Kikuchi, this is Patti. I am going to be baptized. Would you come to my baptism services?”
My wife and I went to her baptism. Many members were kindly fellowshipping her. Oh, I shall never forget her joyful countenance as she came out of the water!
I shall never forget her sweet tears at the sacred altar in the Salt Lake Temple a year later. I remember her peaceful and celestial glow when she was sealed to her deceased husband and son and to her living daughter, who was already a member of the Church.
My friend Patti found the Lord Jesus Christ. Because of the temple sealing, she now knows her family is forever in the Lord.

President Brigham Young used the following story to illustrate the potential influence of teachers: “A traveller in the Eastern country overtook an old gentleman walking towards a town, and asked him, ‘Who is the great man of that little town? Who is your leading man? Who is the governor and controlling spirit of that little place?’ The old gentleman replied, ‘I am the king of that little town.’ ‘Really,’ says the traveller, ‘are you the leading man?’ ‘Yes, sir, I am king in that place, and reign as king.’ ‘How do you make this to appear? Are you in affluent circumstances?’ ‘No, I am poor; but in that little village there are so many children. All those children go to my school; I rule the children, and they rule their parents, and that makes me king.’” (Journal of Discourses, 9:39.)

Five-year-old Jill Lam giggled nervously when her mother asked her to bless the food. She wasn’t used to praying in front of guests. Hesitantly, she stood up to offer a brief blessing.
She stumbled over the first few words, self-consciously aware of the strangers in her home. “We’re thankful for the food,” she mumbled quickly. “Please bless it.”
Then Jill paused. Despite her eagerness to end the prayer, there was another desire even stronger, one her family shared and had uttered in every prayer in their home for the last year. “And Heavenly Father, bless that the temple will be finished quickly and that we can live worthy of going there someday,” Jill concluded breathlessly.
Jill’s poignant prayer was one shared by thousands of Church members in Hong Kong since October 1992 when President Gordon B. Hinckley, then First Counselor in the First Presidency, announced the building of the Hong Kong Temple. Those prayers were abundantly answered when President Hinckley, as President of the Church, dedicated the Hong Kong Temple on 26 and 27 May 1996.

Then one day in 1999, full-time missionaries walked into the post office where my brother works—the same post office where my copy of A Liahona always arrives. When my brother saw Elder Patrick Tedjamulia’s name tag, he recognized the name of the Church from my magazines and asked the elder who he was. My brother explained that he had a family member in the same church, and Elder Tedjamulia asked to meet me.
When my brother told me about meeting the missionaries, I was amazed. Could it really be that the Church was here in Mozambique?
I soon learned that it was true. Our government had recognized the Church in 1996.
It was marvelous to meet with the elders again. I remembered the things the missionaries had taught me in Germany, and I felt that same peace come into my heart.
In January 2000 I was finally baptized a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It has been a great blessing to me. I feel the Lord’s Spirit in all the work of the Church.

I believe that many bright and special and valiant spirits have been saved for this challenging time. I’m thinking about one bright little boy called Timmy.
Timmy had only two pennies in his pocket when he approached the farmer and pointed to a tomato hanging lusciously from a vine.
“Give you two cents for it,” the boy offered.
“That kind brings a nickel,” the farmer told him.
“This one?” Timmy asked, pointing to a smaller, greener, and less tempting specimen. The farmer nodded agreement. “OK,” said Timmy, and sealed the deal by placing his two pennies in the farmer’s hand. “I’ll pick it up in about a week.”
You young men could learn from Timmy, who invested two cents in a tomato that would be worth five cents in the future. If you are willing to invest now, you young men will have opportunities to accomplish as much as any generation that has ever lived. For too many, however, the seed of faith falls among thorns, and the seed becomes unfruitful.

My brother and I were driving home from work on a long, dark stretch of highway. We hadn’t passed a car for miles. I was exhausted, and in an attempt to stay awake, I began looking at the layout of the road. We were in a hilly area, and there were two lanes going up the side of the hill we were climbing. Only one lane came down in the other direction. The extra lane in our direction was a passing lane because of the steep grade.
I began wondering about the downhill side. Sometimes on a steep incline, I knew, large trucks lose their brakes. I wondered what would happen, with only one lane, if a truck lost its brakes and a car was in front of it. It could be a serious situation. I was glad there was no other traffic on the road that night.
After a few moments I again thought about the situation. I was driving in the passing lane and figured a truck without brakes would have to veer into my lane to pass a slower vehicle. A thought came into my mind that the right lane would be safer, just in case something like that happened. But I rationalized that it was late and there was no traffic, so it didn’t really matter where I drove. The thought came again as I approached the top of the hill. I realized that I couldn’t see the oncoming traffic, and it couldn’t see me either.
Suddenly a sharp voice shouted, “Move!” I was so startled that I jerked the steering wheel abruptly and veered into the right lane. In that instant lights came over the hill and a horn blared. My brother woke up just in time to see the truck pass us in the middle lane. A moment later a station wagon came over the hill in the far lane. I was so shaken I pulled over on the shoulder of the road to steady my nerves. The realization that my brother and I could have been killed was very frightening.
I was amazed; I had heard that the Holy Ghost speaks with a still, small voice, but this voice had shouted. It was several years later when I realized that the Holy Ghost had indeed spoken in a still, small voice. He had spoken to me as He brought to my mind the possibilities of where a large truck might go, and He had spoken again when He suggested I move to the far right lane. I was dismayed when I realized I had not recognized the still, small voice. Finally there was no time left, and the Spirit had to shout.
After that experience I vowed to always live my life so that I am in tune with the Spirit. I decided I would never again question a prompting but would follow the still, small voice immediately.

Spiritual healing is illustrated in the story of Warren M. Johnson, pioneer ferryman at Lee’s Ferry, Arizona. As a young man, Warren Johnson came west seeking his fortune in gold in the summer of 1866. He became very ill, and his companions left him under a tree in the yard of a family in Bountiful, Utah. One of the daughters found him and reported there was a dead man out in the yard. Although he was a complete stranger, this kind family took him in and nursed him back to health. They taught him the gospel and he was baptized. He eventually ended up as the ferryman at Lee’s Ferry.
In 1891 the Warren Johnson family suffered a great tragedy. Within a period of a short time, they lost four children to diphtheria. All four were buried in a row next to each other. In a letter to President Wilford Woodruff, dated July 29, 1891, Warren told the story:
“Dear Brother,
“In May 1891 a family residing in Tuba City, came here from Richfield Utah, where they had spent the winter visiting friends. At Panguitch they buried a child, and without disinfecting the wagon or themselves, not even stopping to wash the dead child’s clothes, they came to our house, and remained overnight, mingling with my little children. …
“We knew nothing of the nature of the disease, but had faith in God, as we were here on a very hard mission, and had tried as hard as we knew how to obey the Word of Wisdom, and attend to the other duties of our religion, such as paying tithing, family prayers etc. etc., that our children would be spared. But alas, in 4 1/2 days [the oldest boy] choked to death in my arms. Two more were taken down with the disease and we fasted and prayed as much as we thought it wisdom, as we had many duties to perform here. We fasted some 24 hours and once I fasted 40 hours, but all of no avail for both my little girls died also. About a week after their death my fifteen year old daughter Melinda was stricken down and we did all we could for her but she followed the others, and three of my dear girls and one boy [have] been taken from us, and the end is not yet. My oldest girl 19 years old is now prostrate with the disease, and we are fasting and praying in her behalf. … What have we done that the Lord has left us, and what can we do to gain his favor again[?]
“Yours in the gospel
“Warren M. Johnson”
In a subsequent letter to his friend Warren Foote, Brother Johnson testified that he had found a spiritual peace:
“I can assure you however, that it is the hardest [trial] of my life, but I set out for salvation, and am determined through the help of my Heavenly Father to hold fast to the iron rod, no matter what trials may come upon me. I have not yet slackened in the performance of my duties, and hope and trust that I shall have the faith and prayers of my brethren that I may live so as to receive the blessings, you having authority, have placed on my head.”
The seventh article of faith states that, among other spiritual gifts, we believe in the gift of healing. I believe this gift extends to healing of both the body and the spirit. The Spirit speaks peace to the soul. This spiritual solace comes by invoking spiritual gifts, which are claimed and manifested in many ways. They are rich, full, and abundant in the Church today. They flow from the humble and proper use of a testimony. They also come through administering to the sick following an anointing with consecrated oil. Christ is the Great Physician, who rose from the dead “with healing in his wings,” while the Comforter is the agent of healing.

My father served as a bishop of the El Sereno Ward when the Church was just getting started in the Los Angeles, California, area. The ward members still talk about his kindness to them and to their families. One Sunday Dad was not at priesthood meeting. Everyone wondered what had happened to him. Later they discovered that one of the priests was having trouble getting up on time to go to the meeting. So in kindness he held the quorum meeting in the priest’s bedroom.

I recently read the account of some deacons who got a little careless in their attitude towards passing the sacrament. They began to think of it as a chore, something that no one else wanted to do. They often came in late, and sometimes they didn’t dress appropriately. One Sunday their priesthood adviser told them: “You don’t have to worry about the sacrament today. It’s been taken care of.”
They were, of course, surprised to hear this, but as usual, they were late for sacrament meeting. They slipped in casually during the opening hymn and sat in the congregation. That’s when they noticed who was sitting on the deacons’ bench—their adviser and the high priests of the ward, who included men who had served as bishops and stake president. They were all dressed in dark suits with white shirts and ties. But more than that, their bearing was one of total reverence as they took the sacrament trays from row to row. Something was deeper and more significant about the sacrament that day. Those deacons who had become so perfunctory in their duties learned by example that passing the sacrament was a sacred trust and one of the greatest of honors. They began to realize that the priesthood is, as the Apostle Peter called it, “a royal priesthood.”

One time I went on a first date with a girl in my ward. The next morning we were the only two who showed up for our ward’s temple trip. We offered to help with whatever ordinance needed the most patrons … which turned out to be sealings.
I was so nervous, but to my surprise, doing vicarious sealings with a girl less than 12 hours after our first date wasn’t nearly as awkward as I thought it would be. If anything, that experience gave me more perspective on how important each aspect of temple work is—including sealings (read more in my digital article).

Once when Grandma and Grandpa Wakefield were visiting us from Minnesota, we watched some eggs that were hatching on the wall of our house. Right beside the egg case a spider had built a nest; and whenever a small mantis came out, the spider would dash over and bite him, spin him up in a web like a mummy, and pull him over to his nest. I wanted to squash that spider, but Grandpa said that spiders need to live too.

I believe in sustaining our living prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, by listening to and following his counsel.
In general conference last fall, I listened to President Hinckley tell of the emigration of thousands of European Saints who faced their trials “with optimism and enthusiasm” (Ensign, Nov. 1995, 72). He counseled us to do the same.
It was hard advice to hear. At the time I was unhappy, frustrated, and busy feeling sorry for myself.
For months over the summer, I trained to become a member of the varsity volleyball team. I ran, lifted weights, did endless drills. I put in my time. The work paid off. I made the team. My dream was coming true, or so I expected.
Then the dream started to tarnish. Others played better than I did. Much of the time, I warmed the bench, cheering my teammates, yearning to play more, trying to deal with the disappointment.
Life wasn’t being fair. My attitude affected my relationship with the other girls on the team. And it affected how I felt about myself.
Why would Heavenly Father let me work so hard and come so far to end up so disappointed? Finally, after wrestling with my choices and praying for direction, I decided to leave the team. I needed to get back to my studies and my life away from volleyball.
But I couldn’t seem to let go of my disappointment and resentment. Then general conference came. It is a time of year I love because the Spirit is abundant in our home. Conference can be heard in every room.
President Hinckley’s address offered the counsel I needed to put things into perspective. By having an “overpowering spirit of optimism” and enthusiasm (Ensign, Nov. 1995, 72), I could decide to let go of my volleyball experience. I could decide to be positive and optimistic about the many good things in my life: my friendships, my studies, my family. I could play volleyball for fun rather than competition. Suddenly the dilemma that had seemed so overwhelming began to fade. I started to feel better about myself. I read the scriptures more. I prayed more. I liked other people more. I felt the Spirit reenter my life.
I am grateful for a living prophet who taught me to let go of feeling sorry for myself. He quoted Alma 26:35, which teaches us there never was a people “that had so great reason to rejoice as we, since the world began.” I realize now that I have so much to be grateful for, so many reasons to rejoice. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.