Gospel Story Finder

I never knew that becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would negatively affect my relationship with family members. I joined the Church two months after getting a new job. My first day attending church was the day a friend invited me to help her with her baby as she was going to be baptized.
The moment I stepped into the chapel, I felt peace, comfort, and joy in my heart, and I knew that I belonged here and that the search for the right church had come to an end. I started reading the pamphlets from a friend and later booked appointments with the missionaries and I got baptized after a couple of weeks of learning with the missionaries.
However, because my family has been staunch Anglicans, I hid my new identity of being a member of the Church until I read a scripture in Romans 1:16, which says that “I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ”. This scripture gave me a sense of direction, and I said to myself that I need not to be ashamed of the gospel if I have joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I started changing everything on my social media accounts to say that I am a member of the Church. Even though people contacted me about what they were seeing on the accounts, I proudly replied to each one that I have joined the Lord’s church and that I love it and I know that it is true.
Not long after, it was time to serve a mission. I received my call to the Ghana Cape Coast Mission. I proudly shared the news with my family, and they were happy for me, and I thought all was well with the family about my decision to serve. But a few days before mission, my family was still opposed to my decision and requested that I postpone my mission instead of leaving in December 2019, to go in 2020. It became evident that my family was unhappy with my decision to go on a mission. I knew that the God I serve lives, He knows me, and He had called me to serve Him and that the time is now or never.
I needed to make a choice between my family and my mission. I was stuck, but I prayed fervently and amidst all that was happening, I stood firm with unwavering and unshakable faith knowing that He can see me through those trying moments.
The Lord comforted me at that time, and I knew that I was not alone, and He was there for me. I felt at peace even though things had not been settled between me and my family and with less than 24 hours left, the family accepted my decision to go and serve and I was able to leave for my mission. My family has embraced my service and I am happily serving my mission with love and a cheerful heart, knowing that all things are possible with God if we look unto Him in every thought, fearing not and doubting not with faith that whatever you ask you will receive.
You either stand with God and are condemned by man or stand with man and are condemned by God. If you know the truth and you put your faith first, you can find joy in your challenges because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I know that faith can move mountains and make the impossible possible.

I had a father come to me one day and say, “Brother Buckner, you are a merit badge examiner for public speaking.”
I said, “Yes, that’s right.”
He said, “I’ve got a son who’s got all of his merit badges for his Eagle Scout rank except one, and I’d like to have you sign his card for public speaking.”
I said, “Well, I’d love to pass your boy on public speaking, but I want to meet your son. You wouldn’t deprive me of that, would you?”
“No,” he said, “but there’s a board of review this Thursday, and we’ve got to have it done by then.”
I said, “Well, I’ll set aside any time you wish—today, Sunday, tomorrow, Monday. How about Tuesday night at 4:00?”
“That’ll be fine,” he said reluctantly.
Tuesday night at four the boy didn’t show up. But a few days later I saw his picture in our local paper getting his Eagle Scout award. I wondered which merit badge examiner the father talked into signing his card.

The tree had been young when Olivia Tucker McCoy joined the Church. In her diary she wrote: “We were baptized Oct. 3, 1897. My husband’s father had given him the place he settled on with the understanding that he would help him work and pay for that place and the one his father bought, but as it was his father’s he never got the deed. So, after we joined the Mormons his father told him he would have to move.”
Their little daughter had been burned in a fire in December, and they asked for time before moving the child but were ordered out. On January 3, 1898, “We put her in the wagon on a bed, moved to what they called the Coates place, and rented the same from Jim Smyly.
“The Christmas of 1898 I spent with my sister, a Mrs. Guinn, the one I lived with when I was married. But the folks didn’t seem just the same. You see, I had joined the Mormons and I was reminded of it.”

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

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

Camille N. Johnson has spent her life studying words, crafting them, and using them to help people solve problems during her more than 30-year career as a lawyer. And she has always found great peace in the words of the scriptures. She counts scriptural figures among her fondest friends.
Still, when she and her husband moved to South America to lead the Peru Arequipa Mission from 2016 to 2019, she longed for words. Having never studied Spanish, she prayed for the ability to communicate with her missionaries and the people so they would feel her love for them and her testimony of the Book of Mormon.
“I trusted in the Lord and relied upon the Spirit to communicate my love and testimony when words failed me. What a sweet and poignant lesson I learned to ‘lean not unto [my] own understanding’ [Proverbs 3:5] but to give it all over to my Savior.”
Along the way she relearned a simple truth of the gospel: “It is about loving the Savior, loving like the Savior, and letting the love and Atonement of Jesus Christ work in our lives.”
Sister Johnson was blessed with love for the mission’s 552 missionaries and now feels her heart expand to love the one million children for whom she has stewardship.
“I relish this opportunity to learn from the children who are a reflection of the pure love of Jesus Christ,” she said.

“It sure will be neat to have a holiday,” Stephanie mumbled, swallowing a bite of cupcake. “Thanksgiving’s almost my favorite holiday—after Christmas, of course, and may be Halloween. What could be better than no school and having all that good stuff to eat?”
Brushing a stray crumb of peanut butter sandwich from her cheek and crunching on a carrot stick, Winona declared, “This’ll be our first Thanksgiving here in Loganport.”
“Well, I’m sure glad you moved here, Winnie. Lunchtime is more fun with somebody like you to talk to. You should see our turkey,” she sighed blissfully, thinking of food again. “Mom says it weighs almost twenty pounds! How big is your family’s turkey?”
“We’re not getting one this year,” Winnie replied.
“Oh, sorry,” Stephanie said softly. “C’mon. There’s the bell. Just two and a half more hours and we’ll be free from school for four days!”
The crisp November air seemed to push Winnie along the sidewalk as she headed home after school. “Hi, Mom,” Winnie called as she closed the door to their apartment.
“I’m in the kitchen, dear,” Mother replied. “How was school? Glad to have vacation for a few days?”
“Uh-huh,” Winnie answered, coming into the kitchen. “Mom, what are we having for Thanksgiving dinner? Stephanie’s family has a twenty-pound turkey.”
“Well, dear, you know we can’t afford to buy a turkey this year. Moving to Loganport took a lot of money. But it’ll be worth it if your father’s work here holds out. It’s a shame the old hotel in Greensburg closed, but we should be glad that Dad likes his new job and that we have a nice place to live.”
“Nice place? This apartment is so plain, Mom. It’s awful! I’d be ashamed to bring anybody here.”
“Your friend Stephanie doesn’t seem to mind.”
“Stephanie understands, I guess. But the other girls at school wouldn’t.”
“Sure they would. Now, how about stirring the soup and setting the table while I put the corn bread into the oven. Dad will be home soon.”
Fifteen minutes later Dad came through the door. “Whew! What a busy day,” he said, hugging his wife. “That kitchen was really hopping today so that everything for the big Thanksgiving buffet tomorrow will be just right. I stuffed so many turkeys I’m going to dream about those birds all night.”
“I wish we were having turkey,” said Winnie.
“We are,” said Mother. “I have a can of turkey noodle soup that I’m going to make into the best turkey corn chowder you ever tasted.”
On Thanksgiving Day Winnie had to admit that the chowder tasted very good. Mom had even splurged and made a pumpkin pie.
Thanksgiving wasn’t bad after all, Winnie thought as she helped her mother with the dishes.
Dad came up behind them and gave them both a squeeze. “Happy Thanksgiving to my two lovely ladies,” he said with a smile. “You know, Mother, our Winona is really turning into quite a good-looking young lady.”
“She’s going to be a teenager before we know it!” Mother declared. She turned and smiled at her daughter. “In less than two weeks you’ll be thirteen years old, Winnie. I can’t believe it.”
“I’d say that calls for a party,” said Dad. “How would you like that, Winnie? You could invite some friends over.”
“A party,” Winnie gasped. “Oh, Dad, that would be super! But—I mean, can we afford it?”
“You and Mother work things out. You’re both pretty good budget balancers.”
The next afternoon Winnie and Stephanie sat at the kitchen table making invitations from colored paper. “Stephanie,” Winnie said after a long silence, “I’m worried. I want to ask the other girls to the party and at the same time I don’t want to. I wish we had a fancier home.”
“Hey, don’t be silly! Anybody dumb enough to worry about what your house looks like doesn’t deserve to be your friend. Besides, everybody likes parties.”
That evening Winnie heard her dad calling as soon as he entered the apartment.
“Where’s Winnie? I have a surprise for her.”
Winnie sprang up and ran to meet him.
“I don’t do this for just any lady friend,” Dad teased, “only good-looking women turning thirteen years old.” He held out a lump of aluminum foil.
Winnie carefully opened the foil. Inside lay ten wishbones.
“From the turkeys at the hotel kitchen,” Dad explained. “You can clean them up and use them for your party.”
“Neat, Dad!” Winnie exclaimed. She soaked the bones and pulled off any traces of meat. Then she put them on a sunny windowsill to dry.
The following week seemed like a blur to Winnie. “They sure have been piling on the homework since we got back,” she remarked to Stephanie at lunch.
“I’ll say! I’m stopping at the library on the way home. Want to come?”
Winnie shook her head. “I have to finish my book report before supper so I can help clean the house for the party. I still can’t believe everybody’s really coming.”
That night, tired but happy, Winnie snuggled under her patchwork quilt. It seemed like only minutes until she heard her mother’s voice. “Time to get up, teenager.”
Winnie scrambled out of bed and got dressed. Today was the big day. Almost before she knew it, she heard giggles on the stairs below. The girls were arriving for the party. Does everything look all right? she wondered. She whirled around and checked out the room: a plate of sandwiches, a bowl of chips, and a lovely cake with pink frosting. Mom’s old tablecloth looked elegant with paper flowers pinned to it. A knock sent her skipping to the door.
The girls bustled inside the apartment and began taking off their coats. “Well, what’s this?” asked Janice Jones, just about the classiest girl in the whole school. She sauntered over to the table. There, suspended on tiny threads above the birthday cake, hung ten wishbones, each tied with a slim pink bow.
“Wishbones,” said Winnie, thinking it was the dumbest thing she’d ever said. Her heart sank. She should have known Janice would think …
“That is absolutely the neatest thing I ever saw,” Janice announced. She made a quick count. “There’s one for each of us.”
“So nobody gets stuck with the short end,” explained Winnie.
“Everyone gets a wish come true today,” Stephanie chimed in.
Winnie knew Stephanie was right. Wishing for a turkey, wishing for a fancy house, wishing for friends—a girl could waste her whole life just wishing. A person thirteen years old ought to get out and do something and be happy about who she is. Reaching up with her scissors, she snipped off a wishbone and handed it to Janice. “Make a wish,” she said with a smile.

Annie Clark Tanner wrote this about her mother’s needlework: “Mother was an accomplished artist at needle work. Her industry in this line, as she plied her needle when crossing the ocean in a sailboat, attracted the attention of the captain and his wife for whom my mother sewed, and thus she enjoyed the best accomodations on board. When she was traveling across the plains to the Salt Lake Valley, she made yards of fine muslin embroidery with which she trimmed her first baby clothes. I noticed a small mark of yellow on the embroidery and asked her what it was.
“‘That mark,’ she said, ‘is a little iron rust from a wire on the bow of the wagon where I tied my work when crossing the plains.’”

One unique thing about this seminary class has been how much the students enjoy being together. It seems every weekday morning isn’t enough. They now get together every Saturday night, too.
It all started when Louise’s mother told Brett that Louise’s friends always ask her to go to the pub with them on Saturdays, but she never goes. Brett said, “We can get a group of people and go out and have some fun. We decided to take the whole class, make it a seminary thing. After that, every Saturday night, we’ve been doing it. It’s good fun.”
What do they do? The first week they went to the cinema, but that quickly became too expensive. So they started going to each other’s houses to play games (the Crowthers taught them to play capture-the-flag) or watch videos or just talk and talk and talk. Elaine explains, “We used to have nothing to talk about; now we don’t have enough time to talk. It’s very fun. When I was in Primary, I never used to mix. I’d stay to myself. When I was in school, I never talked to anybody. But my confidence has grown to talk to people more since I started hanging around with the group.”
For Louise, having something else to do on Saturdays has helped her be comfortable in her decision to stay strong in the Church. “It’s not an excuse, but it’s a reason for me not to go with my friends from work because they go out every weekend. Sometimes, I used to go along. I didn’t do anything I shouldn’t, but it was just being there. It just didn’t feel good. It wears out your spirit eventually. I got so tired of trying to speak up for myself. When I go with the seminary class, I can just be me. And that’s accepted.”
And most of all, “Saturday nights are fun,” says Pamela. “Usually my friends go out on Saturday night. Their standards are completely different from mine. I prefer and feel much better going to the seminary activity. We have great fun.”
Derek adds, “Early-morning seminary has brought us closer, and we’re better friends. Definitely. Saturday evenings we have activities. It’s not planned by any adults. It’s all arranged by us. I’ve gotten a lot closer to everyone in the class, even Pamela, my sister. Most nights the kids at school would go out and get drunk and break the Word of Wisdom. I wouldn’t even consider that as a choice.”

Alone in my home and on my knees in tearful prayer, I asked Heavenly Father why things were not working out for me. Personal challenges during the previous two years had convinced me that I needed to move from the small town where I lived and find a different job. Despite many efforts, however, I had not yet been able to find an appropriate position.
As I sobbed and prayed to know why I did not seem to be receiving the help I needed, a peaceful, warm feeling came over me. I stopped speaking and just knelt there quietly. I knew that Heavenly Father was comforting me through the Spirit. To my mind came the passages of scripture that I had read many times during the previous two years and that had been a source of great comfort.
One passage was 2 Nephi 4:16–35, particularly verse 28, where Nephi says, “Rejoice, O my heart, and give place no more for the enemy of my soul.” The other passage was Doctrine and Covenants 98:3, which reassured me that my prayers were heard and that “all things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord.”
So now, even though I still felt that I wanted to move from that town, I knew with all my heart that I would be OK. Heavenly Father was there, and I felt fine about staying if He wanted me to.
Just three months later I learned that my 24-year-old son, who was attending medical school in a neighboring state, had cancer. I spent the next three weeks with him at the hospital. Had I gotten a new job, I would have had no vacation time, no release time, no sick leave. I would have had to quit the new job in order to be with my son, thereby adding unemployment to my challenges.
I couldn’t help but think that the Lord knew what was ahead and so for the moment had said no to my prayer.
My son underwent chemotherapy, and during the first few months we had no assurance he would live. I felt I needed to move to the neighboring state where he was; I could not stand to be so far away when he was sick and still making the effort to attend classes at medical school. Thankfully, through a chain of events that indicated to me the Lord was helping me, I was able to get a job in the area where my son lived.
I lived in that area long enough to see my son marry his childhood sweetheart, regain his health, graduate with honors, and present me with my first grandchild. Soon I was blessed to marry a wonderful man who was a longtime and respected friend.
“Rejoice, O my heart, and give place no more for the enemy of my soul.” “All things wherewith you have been afflicted shall work together for your good, and to my name’s glory, saith the Lord.” When the time was right, the Lord opened the windows of heaven and blessed me. I continue to remember those blessings and the comforting words of the scriptures, and I pray never to forget.

Elder Robert L. Backman, when he was general president of the Young Men of the Church, liked to tell the story of a deacons quorum presidency who took it upon themselves to visit every member of their quorum. They made appointments, got together at an appointed time, and went to the homes of their young brethren. One such visit was particularly memorable, when they visited a young man who was just about to become a deacon.
The presidency arrived at their prospective quorum member’s home at the appointed hour and knocked on the door. They were invited into the living room, and the prospective deacon joined them. He was a little nervous and didn’t know exactly what to expect. His parents left them alone to visit. The presidency took the time to explain to him what his duties would be, where and when they met as a quorum, how he would participate in meetings and activities, and then welcomed him into the group.
When the presidency left, the young man’s father asked how the visit had gone, to which he responded, “They were awesome, Dad.”

When my wife and I visited Salt Lake City recently, we needed to find an ATM on the street. While we were looking around, we heard a voice from a parked car behind us say, “Are you looking for something? Can I help you?” The man, who introduced himself as Mike, added with a smile that it feels probably weird for a stranger to yell at us from a car, but in Utah we might not be surprised by that. He asked where we are from and when he learned that we are from Prague, his eyes lit up. He had recently spoken to a friend of his who was having trouble getting information about her ancestors from the Czech Republic, so he immediately wondered if there was anything we could do to help. We replied that we would be happy to send him contacts of brothers and sisters who were doing genealogy in our country. He thanked us, we said goodbye and he got into his car. As we were leaving, we noticed that Mike had gotten out of the car again and was coming back to us. This time, however, the happy smile was replaced by emotion.
With tears in his eyes, he told us how grateful he was for our brief encounter and that he felt urged to get out of the car. He had been trying unsuccessfully to help his friend with genealogy in Bohemia for a long time, and because of her advanced age, she was losing hope of finding her ancestors in Bohemia. Mike too was about to give up, but the previous day when he visited the temple he felt that the solution would come - and it came through us. And so he wanted to share with us the joy and gratitude he felt at another testimony of how wonderfully God‘s guidance works in our lives.
Our encounter with Mike is an example of how the Spirit works. Mike made an effort to listen to the promptings of the Holy Spirit and through his willingness to help complete strangers, he subsequently received not only help for his friend, but we all received another testimony of how God, through the Spirit, gives us answers and brings solutions. Yes, it was a small thing, but it is from such small and tiny things that the great mosaic of spiritual knowledge in our lives is made.

In 1982, when we arrived in Dubai, no Latter-day Saint services were being held. We found three Latter-day Saints there: a sister from the United States and two Filipino brethren. Sacrament meetings began in our living room. Our children used to say that for a year they didn’t go to church—church came to us!
Within eighteen months, however, new move-ins helped our branch membership grow to twenty-four; and by 1985, the small branch had grown to thirty-six. We rent space in the American school for meetings. Our branch offers the full program of the Church for our age groups, including early morning seminary.

One such family with four young children writes: “We decided to start small because of our children’s short attention spans. Our oldest child was not yet reading, but she could repeat our words, so we began reading the Book of Mormon, just three verses each night. My husband and I would read one verse each, and then Sydney would repeat a verse. We progressed to four verses and then five verses as the boys began to repeat their own verses. Yes, it was tedious, but we kept going. We tried to focus on consistency instead of speed. It took us three and a half years to finish the Book of Mormon. It was a great feeling of accomplishment!”

The mother continues: “Daily family scripture reading is a habit in our family now. Our children are comfortable with scriptural language, and my husband and I take opportunity to bear testimony of truths. Most important, the Spirit has increased in our home.”

Isabelle loved to pray! In the morning she said a “good morning” prayer. She thanked Heavenly Father for the sunshine and a new day.
At lunchtime Isabelle told Heavenly Father about her day so far. She prayed for help to be nice to her sisters when they got home from school.
At bedtime Isabelle’s family prayed together. They always started by talking about people who might need extra blessings.
Tonight Daddy said, “Please pray for Uncle Dan. He lost his job.”
Isabelle felt sad. She didn’t know a lot about grown-up work, but she knew that losing a job was bad. She loved her uncle. He made yummy popcorn. And last time he came over, he had showed her how to do a cartwheel!
“I’ll pray for him to find a job,” Maria said. She was one of Isabelle’s older sisters. It was her turn to pray out loud for the family.
The next day, Isabelle asked Daddy if Uncle Dan found a job yet.
“Not yet,” Daddy said. “Sometimes prayers aren’t answered right away.”
“So should we keep praying for him?” Isabelle asked.
Daddy nodded. “That would mean a lot to Uncle Dan.”
Every day, Isabelle and her sisters kept praying for Uncle Dan. They prayed for him to find a job. They prayed for him to have enough money for what he needed. They prayed for him to feel loved.
Isabelle was glad she could help Uncle Dan with her prayers. Praying for him made her feel happy and strong.
They helped Uncle Dan in other ways too. One day they helped Uncle Dan clean his house. Another day, Isabelle and Mommy stopped by to watch a movie with Uncle Dan.
Weeks went by. Finally, Daddy had good news.
“Uncle Dan has two job interviews this week!” Daddy said.
Isabelle felt happy inside. She was glad she could pray for the people she loved.
Who can you pray for?

Monday evening the family went to the chuck wagon races at the Calgary Stampede. President Benson watched with the keen eye of a lifelong horseman as the chuck wagon teams careened around the track in a cloud of dust and tangle of wagons, horses, and outriders. A constant stream of LDS Scouts who were visiting from the nearby international jamboree came to shake the Apostle’s hand, and he graciously turned away from the spectacle to greet them warmly. Afterward there was a stage show honoring Canada, and then the night became noon as fireworks blossomed in new constellations overhead. The family laughed and joked and cheered. The best part of the evening was just being together.

Gage stared at the empty old bottle and turned it over in his hands. It was small and misty green, with a cork stopper in the top. Grandpa Russell had given it to him after his baptism.
“What is it?” Gage asked. “I know it’s a bottle—but there’s nothing in it.”
“Oh, it’s full,” Grandpa said.
Gage shook the bottle. “Well, it looks empty to me.”
Grandpa laughed. He pulled out the cork and held the little bottle near Gage’s ear. “Can you hear it?” he whispered.
“Hear what?” Gage whispered back.
Grandpa smiled. “Silence,” he said. Then he put the cork back in the bottle. “In today’s world, silence is pretty hard to find. It’s like medicine, and each drop is as precious as gold.”
Gage said thank you and took Grandpa’s strange gift home. But he didn’t think about it much.
A few weeks later, Gage’s uncle Vince passed away. After the funeral, lots of relatives crowded into the front room at Gage’s house to visit. Gage escaped to his bedroom and closed the door. He could hear the muffled voices of his parents and relatives down the hall.
Gage saw the old green bottle sitting on his desk and picked it up. He turned it over in his hands. Grandpa had said silence was like medicine. Gage needed to find some peace and comfort after Uncle Vince’s funeral.
Gage pulled the cork loose from the bottle and tipped it over his head, pretending to let a little silence pour out. He knew the bottle wasn’t really full of silence. But he knew he needed some quiet time to feel close to God.
He felt tears build up in his eyes. Uncle Vince wouldn’t be there anymore—no more silly jokes, no more wrestling with him. Gage’s heart hurt from missing him.
Then in the silence, Gage felt something warm grow in his heart and soften the pain. He remembered that Uncle Vince wasn’t gone forever; he had just moved on to the next world. Because of Jesus Christ and the plan of salvation, everyone would live forever. Gage knew that someday he could see his Uncle Vince again.
As he held the bottle in his hands, Gage felt peaceful inside. He knew it was because of the Holy Ghost and not the bottle. The bottle had just reminded him to be quiet so he could feel the Holy Ghost. He corked the bottle and set it down.
Then he went back to the front room to be with his family. He could carry the peace and comfort of the Holy Ghost inside of him even outside his quiet room.

A few years ago, my wife and I were struggling with one of our young single adult children. A long series of events had left us emotionally drained. I regrettably remember saying, “I’m over it. I’m turning off the ‘I care’ switch.” For a few days, I felt better, detached, less stressed, and I thought I had found peace.

But then came Sunday.

I had recently read Elder Peter F. Meurs’s 2016 general conference talk, “The Sacrament Can Help Us Become Holy.” He offered five ways to deepen our worship:
Prepare in advance
Arrive early
Sing and learn from the sacrament hymn
Participate in the prayers
Remember Jesus as the emblems are passed

I tried to apply those teachings, but my heart was still heavy. Then came the opportunity to learn from the sacrament hymn. Verse 2 pierced my heart:
As now our minds review the past,
We know we must repent;
The way to thee is righteousness—
The way thy life was spent.
Forgiveness is a gift from thee
We seek with pure intent.

Immediately my heart turned not just to the Saviour but to my child. The Spirit whispered to me, “Call him and tell him you are sorry. Let him know you love him.”

After the meeting, I messaged: “I’m going to call you this afternoon, I need to talk. Please answer. I promise I won’t hassle you.”

I called and said, “I love you, Son. Please forgive me.” There was a period of silence, then his voice: “Aw, is that it? All good, I love you too. I’m sorry. How was your day?”

That moment was sacred. It was healing. It was the Saviour’s balm, and it came because I tried, however imperfectly, to build on the rock.

Elder Neil L. Andersen and his wife, Kathy, visited the Democratic Republic of the Congo in Africa. They had a Church meeting outside under tents. Around the tents was a big fence. Elder Andersen could see children watching them from the other side of the fence. Sister Andersen asked him, “Do you think you might want to invite the children to come in?” Elder Andersen walked up to the man at the microphone. He asked the man to invite the children to come in and join them.
The children came running! They were all smiling and excited to be a part of the meeting.

Bitter consequences are seen in the lives of children who need but do not have a father who loves them, teaches them, protects them, and leads them along the path of life by example and precept. Let me recount for you something I heard about two years ago in this tabernacle. The occasion was a great gathering of single men and women. Elder Marion D. Hanks conducted a panel discussion. Included in that panel was an attractive and able young woman, divorced, the mother of seven children then ranging in ages from five to sixteen. She said that one evening she went across the street to deliver something to a neighbor. Listen to her words as I recall them:
“As I turned around to walk back home, I could see my house lighted up. I could hear echoes of my children as I had walked out of the door a few minutes earlier: ‘Mom, what are we going to have for dinner?’ ‘Can you take me to the library?’ ‘I have to get some poster paper tonight.’ Tired and weary, I looked at that house and saw the light on in each of the rooms. I thought of all of those children who were home waiting for me to come and meet their needs. My burdens felt very heavy on my shoulders.
“I remember looking through tears toward the sky, and I said, ‘Oh, my Father, I just can’t do it tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t face it. I can’t go home and take care of all those children alone. Could I just come to You and stay with You for just one night? I’ll come back in the morning.’
“I didn’t really hear the words of reply, but I heard them in my mind. The answer was, ‘No, little one, you can’t come to me now. You would never wish to come back. But I can come to you.’”

My heart fills with gratitude as I recall the joys of our rich family life when all six children were at home. May I mention just a few that have enriched our lives and continue to do so.

Prayer has been and is the ever-present anchor for strength and a source of direction in our family activities. I remember kneeling at the bedside of our young children, helping them with prayers in their younger years, and later seeing the older brothers and sisters helping the younger ones. We had family prayer night and morning, with children given the opportunity to lead, and had special prayers to meet particular problems. Mention was made in family prayer, for instance, of children with assignments such as a 2 1/2-minute talk in Sunday School or a new teaching assignment in the MIA. We asked for help when one of the children faced a difficult examination in high school. Special mention was made of members of the family away at girls’ camp, Scout camp, school, or working. This special mention of particular concerns in our family prayers gave confidence, assurance, and strength to members of the family facing difficult problems and assignments.

The inspired home evening and family council program, which carries such promise and which dates back more than forty years, has provided many happy hours and great joy together. It has built faith, strengthened testimonies, and created a family solidarity and unity that will endure throughout all eternity.

When the children were young, we enjoyed personal, intimate visits with them at their own bedsides or curled up before the fire. Later it was a joy to have them travel with me on Church and business trips throughout the state of Idaho and later throughout the nation. Sometimes these trips were a reward for achievement—our oldest son, Reed, was taken on a trip from Washington D.C., to the west coast when he became the first Eagle Scout in the stake. His achievement was followed a year later by that of his brother Mark. It was on a day during this trip with Reed that I was called to a position of leadership in the councils of the Church. The intimate conversation and experience of that day will remain a precious memory always.

I remember taking a trip to fulfill a speaking engagement at a great convention in Omaha. In reporting the event, the Omaha World Herald showed Bonnie, our third daughter, who later became Relief Society president at eighteen years of age, in a picture on the front page and reported her father’s speech on the back page. This trip was reported in some detail at the weekly home evening of the family.

Another family joy was to have guests in our home. At such times we always tried to arrange to have the children at the table also, to participate in the delightful conversation of the evening. The impression made on a judge and national farm leader as our daughter Barbara, age nine, led in family prayer at our dinner table was reported later by this beloved leader at a meeting of farm, labor, and business leaders in Florida.

It seemed that the family happiness increased as the children advanced in years. It was a joy to see daughters Beverly and Beth teaching in Sunday School, as they prepared for marriage each in turn. Their classes of girls came to the home where our daughters displayed and talked about their trousseaus, their temple clothes, and their plans for marriage. What a joy to hear the young girls pledge that they would follow the examples of their teachers and all be married in the temple.

One source of family joy was the correspondence that came from the children when they were away. We would gather around the kitchen table and enjoy together letters from sons and brothers at Scout camp or on missions, letters from our son Reed while he was a chaplain in the Air Force, or news from older sisters away at college. Joy came to the home when recordings were received at Christmastime or on birthdays, recordings filled with faith-promoting experiences, expressions of love, testimony, and gratitude for the gospel. These we shall never forget.

There were difficult and challenging days also, like the one when I returned from a distant trip to find my faithful and ever courageous wife directing our sons with boxing gloves on their hands sparring with each other. One son had challenged the high school bully, who had been teasing and trying to make fun of younger classmates. The coach had set an hour and a day for the fight. Preparations were on—training, diet, and prayer were all a part of making ready. Our prayers were answered. The outcome brought increased respect and strong friendship, even with the bully.

Even when I was a busy Cabinet member serving as Secretary of Agriculture we kept close together through picnics in the park, travel into the country, and exploration in jeeps and on horses into the hills of Virginia.

The invitation to appear on the popular Edward R. Murrow show on CBS to present a typical Mormon home evening was a serious challenge. The eyes of the nation would be focused on this popular show. Not only the family but, to a great extent, the Church would be on trial before the people. There was some reluctance on the part of the wise mother. She did not want her daughters publicized; but with the persuasion of her sons that this would be an opportunity to do missionary work, she readily agreed. There followed prayer and fasting, but no rehearsing. It was to be an informal Mormon home evening. Questions were to be answered, as the children decided, with “a Church answer.” The Lord heard our prayers, and afterwards letters came in by the hundreds. Later, in a national magazine article, Mr. Murrow expressed his pleasure and surprise when he received more fan mail on the Mormon home evening with Secretary Benson’s family than on any other program of his years-long “Person to Person” series.

As I traveled on trade trips to many nations of the world as Secretary of Agriculture, family joys were still an important part of our lives. Whenever all the space was not taken by members of the press and my staff, President Eisenhower urged me to take members of my family along with me so that “the people of the world might see an American family in action.” Although space on the government plane was provided, meals, hotels, and other expenses were borne by the family.

Yes, these were busy trips, but always family joys were realized. Members of the family traveling with me would be assigned various jobs, such as keeping a diary, making memorandas, keeping a record of letters of thanks to be written later, checking carefully the ever-present question of protocol, and, always, teaching the gospel by word and example.

And now, with all six children happily married in the temple of God and with families of their own—we have twenty-eight grandchildren—the joys continue and are multiplied. Weekly contacts are made by telephone or letter. Birthday cards are sent to each one. Family reunions are held with 100 percent attendance, and we join together in prayer and fasting as the signal goes out of illness or serious problems facing any member of the family.

And the joys continue, such as the report from our son Mark that his family had achieved its missionary goal of bringing into the Church one neighborhood family each year for five years. Parents and six children cooperating—using the home evening—to bring some thirty new converts into the Church.

So much more could be said. Thank God for the joys of family life. I have often said there can be no genuine happiness separate and apart from a good home. The sweetest influences and associations of life are there. Life cannot be fully successful, no matter what goals we attain in the material world, no matter what honors of men come to us in our lives, if we fail as fathers, mothers, and children.

God bless us as Latter-day Saints that our family life may be such that we will have no serious regrets. May we heed the counsel given us and follow the inspired programs of the Church.

It is my conviction that even in this richly endowed world, there can be no enduring prosperity and happiness in nonreligious homes. The integrity of the home must be maintained. The spiritual foundation of our homes must be strengthened. Happiness here and hereafter is tied up with our successful discharge of this great responsibility. Thank God for family joys.