Alta Loma, California—The following report tells what it was like to be in the middle of one of the biggest West Coast fires of recent years. It is from the students of the Alta Loma (California) Institute of Religion:
“The recent September–October 1970 Meyer or Lytle Creek fire in San Bernardino County, the worst fire to date in the history of our region, has proven to be an unforgettable experience for many of us. Fanned by the Santa Ana winds, the spark from a carelessly thrown firecracker produced a devastating blaze that refused to be quieted for over three weeks. The fire consumed 33,920 acres of forest, caused over $15 million of watershed damage, and destroyed five private homes.
“Assistance in fighting the fire was required from forty-one local city fire departments as well as forestry personnel from California, Wyoming, Utah, Arizona, Nevada, and Oregon. Help also came from Indian firefighters in those areas.
“With a detached attitude, we watched the fire burn for several days on the mountain range that lies north of our Chaffey Community College. We thought it would never get to us. In the words of Brent Bliss, one of eight institute students who stayed to help protect our new elev-en-month-old institute building, ‘I thought it was a big joke. But then we watched the fire run down across the foothills. It came faster than anything I had ever seen.’
“On Thursday, October 1, the days of ‘spectator’ fascination were over. A fifty-to sixty-foot wall of flame raced unmercifully toward us. We were in the center of its path. Some officials estimated the fire’s speed at fifty to seventy miles per hour. Duff Snider, another institute student, said, ‘In the instant it took me to turn around, the fire was blown across the four-lane highway and had engulfed the entire north side of a building. It must have traveled 350 yards in a matter of seconds.’
“Almost instantaneously the fire surrounded the institute building, licking up the dry brush that encompassed our property. Suddenly we were alone; moments before, CBS, NBC, and ABC television newsmen had been in and out of our building, using phones, taking pictures, and asking questions. Now the Alta Loma Institute of Religion building was shared by only nine—eight students and our institute director, David Garner. As Brent Bliss later related, the firemen watching us from a distance called over their bullhorn, ‘It’s no use! Leave the building! It will burn!’
“The noise was deafening, as if we were completely surrounded by great jet engines. To breathe was labor, even though we had wet clothes wrapped around our heads; and our clothing, which we had soaked with water from some hoses, became dry in a matter of minutes from the terrific heat.
“Fierce winds ripped at our bodies, making standing possible only with great effort. Flying debris of all sizes and shapes filled the air, and smoke so saturated the area that visibility beyond a few feet was impossible. We worked in the light from the blazing wall of flame surrounding us. No words can describe our feelings; no thought is so imaginative that it can capture the truth of the reality we shared.
“At this moment of peril, our whole institute building was threatened by an ominous ball of fire that seemed ready to snuff us out. Jim Thomas, who was on the roof, reported, ‘I saw a great ball of fire come down toward us from overhead, but as I started to cover up with a blanket, the fire retreated—just like a movie film being run backward.’
“We heard, at this point, an audible explosion. A great eruptive force from ‘inside our ball of fire’ burst upward and outward, driving back the fire on all four sides of the building.
“Only minutes earlier, Norm Perdue had driven his car down the street to get it away from the fire. Returning, he saw it this way: ‘As I ran back to the institute, it was completely obscured with smoke and fire. I thought that perhaps it wasn’t even standing, but suddenly the smoke cleared away and the fire burned on toward the west, and there it was, still standing! It reminded me of when Francis Scott Key wrote the ‘Star Spangled Banner’ after the British had attacked Fort McHenry—when, after a night of fighting and bombing between the two military forces, Key was thrilled to see the flag still flying.
“A custodian who had been on the roof of a building at the college told us, ‘It was fantastic! I wouldn’t have believed it! I just knew you were gone. But the fire jumped over you and went on. I can’t understand it. You sure were lucky!’ We pointed upward and said, ‘Yes, we sure were.’
“We who had remained to help were deeply impressed with the answer to a prayer voiced by one of our students earlier, while many of us knelt together in one of the classrooms. What was amazing to everyone was that surrounding our institute was a ten- to twenty-five-foot ring of brush and undergrowth that did not burn! The explosive force within the ball of fire had simply stopped the fire in its tracks.
“Some of our nonmember friends who had been taking institute classes with us said they couldn’t believe it. For some of them, it was the only faith-and-prayer type experience they had ever had in their lives.
“We had a testimony meeting afterward with our students. Everyone’s expression was different, but the testimony was the same: Heavenly Father had heard our prayers and answered them in such a way that all of us could see the result. The memory of the fire seems to most of us just like a vivid dream or a dramatic experience of nightmare proportion. But the feelings of testimony and conviction linger on, building trust and love in our Heavenly Father.”
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People and Places
Summary: During the 1970 Meyer/Lytle Creek wildfire, eight institute students and their director stayed to protect their new building as flames rushed toward them. After praying together, they experienced a sudden eruptive force that pushed the fire back, leaving an unburned ring of brush around the building. Witnesses were astonished, and the students bore testimony that their prayers were answered.
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👤 Young Adults
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Adversity
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Miracles
Prayer
Testimony
The Family Influence
Summary: A Church family in Idaho Falls shared a war letter from their oldest son in the South Pacific. In it, he testified that fear was overcome through prayer and that he had been taught by his parents to pray, showing how home spirituality sustained him in danger. The story concludes by emphasizing that faith, prayer, and righteous family training bring security, character, and blessing to children and families.
I was in Idaho Falls and was the guest in a home of a typical Church family. There were a dedicated set of parents and many children. The oldest was in military duty in the dreaded South Pacific, and the hearts of the family followed him from place to place. They handed me his latest letter from the war zone. I read this:
“There have been times when we were so scared, we would tremble, but the fear was out of our minds with prayer and the knowledge that we were being guided by the Lord.
“Dad, I love my religion and I am proud that I had someone like you and Mother to teach me to pray. Then I also know that you are praying for me each morning and night. …”
Spirituality is born in the home and is nurtured in the home evenings, in the twice-a-day and oftener daily prayers, in the weekly meetings when the family goes en masse. That spirituality as the foundation of one’s life comes to his rescue when emergency strikes.
Security is not born of inexhaustible wealth but of unquenchable faith. And generally that kind of faith is born and nurtured in the home and in childhood.
Prayer is the passport to spiritual power.
From World War II comes a story of a young Utah boy who was called to serve his country in the faraway places across several time zones.
On his wrist he wore the conventional wristband watch to tell him the time in the area in which he was living. But strangely enough, he carried a larger, old-time heavier watch in his pocket, which gave another time of day. His buddies noted that frequently he would look at his wrist watch, then turn to the old-fashioned one in his pocket, and this led them, in their curiosity, to ask him why the additional watch. Unembarrassed, he promptly said:
“The wristwatch tells me the time here where we are, but the big watch which Pa gave me tells me what time it is in UTAH. You see,” he continued, “mine is a large family—a very close family. When the big watch says 5 a.m. I know Dad is rolling out to milk the cows. And any night when it says 7:30, I know the whole family is around a well-spread table on their knees thanking the Lord for what’s on the table and asking Him to watch over me and keep me clean and honorable. It’s those things that make me want to fight when the goin’ gets tough. … I can find out what time it is here easy enough. What I want to know is what time it is in UTAH.” (Adapted from Vaughn R. Kimball, “The Right Time at Home,” Reader’s Digest, May 1944, p. 43.)
I knew this family well. I knew the sailor slightly. I knew this father. His cows had to feed a large family, but his greater interest was the growing children who needed more than milk and bread. I have knelt in mighty prayer with this wonderful family. The home training has carried through to the eternal blessing of this large family.
O my beloved hearers, what a world it would be if a million families in this church were to be on their knees like this every night and morning! And what a world it would be if nearly a hundred million families in this great land and other hundreds in other lands were praying for their sons and daughters twice daily. And what a world this would be if a billion families through the world were in home evenings and church activity and were on their physical knees pouring out their souls for their children, their families, their leaders, their governments!
This kind of family life could bring us back toward the translation experience of righteous Enoch. The millennium would be ushered in. Enoch was asked questions about himself; he answered, among other things, “… my father taught me in all the ways of God.” (Moses 6:41.) And Enoch walked with God and he was not, for God took him.
Enoch and his people dwelt in righteousness in the City of Holiness, even Zion. And Zion was taken up into heaven.
Yes, here is the answer: righteous, teaching parents; obedient, loving children; faithfulness to family duties.
These qualities in a home make for security and character in the lives of children.
The following verses of Ethel Lynn Beers, written more than a century ago, emphasize unity of the family and real parental love.
A childless man of wealth offers ease and security in exchange for one of seven children. Which shall it be?
“Which shall it be? Which shall it be?
I looked at John, John looked at me,
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seemed strangely low and weak:
‘Tell me again what Robert said,’
And then I, listening, bent my head.
This is his letter:
‘I will give
A house and land while you shall live,
If, in return, from out your seven,
One child to me for aye is given.’
“I looked at John’s old garments worn;
I thought of all that he had borne
Of poverty, and work, and care,
Which I, though willing, could not share;
I thought of seven young mouths to feed,
Of seven little children’s need,
And then of this.
“‘Come, John,’ said I,
‘We’ll choose among them as they lie
Asleep.’ So, walking hand in hand,
Dear John and I surveyed our band:
First to the cradle lightly stepped,
Where Lilian, the baby, slept.
Softly the father stooped to lay
His rough hand down in a loving way,
When dream or whisper made her stir,
And huskily he said: ‘Not her!’
“We stooped beside the trundle bed,
And one long ray of twilight shed
Athwart the boyish faces there,
In sleep so beautiful and fair;
I saw on James’s rough, red cheek
A tear undried. E’er John could speak,
‘He’s but a baby, too,’ said I,
And kissed him as we hurried by.
“Pale, patient, Robbie’s angel face
Still in his sleep bore suffering’s trace.
‘No, for a thousand crowns, not him!’
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
“Poor Dick! bad Dick! our wayward son—
Turbulent, restless, idle one—
Could he be spared? Nay, He who gave
Bade us befriend him to the grave;
Only a mother’s heart could be
Patient enough for such as he;
‘And so,’ said John, ‘I would not dare
To take him from her bedside prayer.’
“Then stole we softly up above,
And knelt by Mary, child of love;
‘Perhaps for her ’twould better be,’
I said to John. Quite silently
He lifted up a curl that lay
Across her cheek in a wilful way,
And shook his head: ‘Nay, love, not thee,’
The while my heart beat audibly.
“Only one more, our eldest lad,
Trusty and truthful, good and glad,
So like his father. ‘No, John, no!
I cannot, will not, let him go.’
“And so we wrote, in courteous way,
We could not give one child away;
And afterward toil lighter seemed,
Thinking of that of which we dreamed,
Happy in truth that not one face
Was missed from its accustomed place;
Thankful to work for all the seven,
Trusting the rest to One in heaven.”
May we in the Church and in this world come to know the Lord’s ways and follow them explicitly, I pray.
I add my solemn witness that President Harold B. Lee is the Lord’s divinely called prophet to this world. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
“There have been times when we were so scared, we would tremble, but the fear was out of our minds with prayer and the knowledge that we were being guided by the Lord.
“Dad, I love my religion and I am proud that I had someone like you and Mother to teach me to pray. Then I also know that you are praying for me each morning and night. …”
Spirituality is born in the home and is nurtured in the home evenings, in the twice-a-day and oftener daily prayers, in the weekly meetings when the family goes en masse. That spirituality as the foundation of one’s life comes to his rescue when emergency strikes.
Security is not born of inexhaustible wealth but of unquenchable faith. And generally that kind of faith is born and nurtured in the home and in childhood.
Prayer is the passport to spiritual power.
From World War II comes a story of a young Utah boy who was called to serve his country in the faraway places across several time zones.
On his wrist he wore the conventional wristband watch to tell him the time in the area in which he was living. But strangely enough, he carried a larger, old-time heavier watch in his pocket, which gave another time of day. His buddies noted that frequently he would look at his wrist watch, then turn to the old-fashioned one in his pocket, and this led them, in their curiosity, to ask him why the additional watch. Unembarrassed, he promptly said:
“The wristwatch tells me the time here where we are, but the big watch which Pa gave me tells me what time it is in UTAH. You see,” he continued, “mine is a large family—a very close family. When the big watch says 5 a.m. I know Dad is rolling out to milk the cows. And any night when it says 7:30, I know the whole family is around a well-spread table on their knees thanking the Lord for what’s on the table and asking Him to watch over me and keep me clean and honorable. It’s those things that make me want to fight when the goin’ gets tough. … I can find out what time it is here easy enough. What I want to know is what time it is in UTAH.” (Adapted from Vaughn R. Kimball, “The Right Time at Home,” Reader’s Digest, May 1944, p. 43.)
I knew this family well. I knew the sailor slightly. I knew this father. His cows had to feed a large family, but his greater interest was the growing children who needed more than milk and bread. I have knelt in mighty prayer with this wonderful family. The home training has carried through to the eternal blessing of this large family.
O my beloved hearers, what a world it would be if a million families in this church were to be on their knees like this every night and morning! And what a world it would be if nearly a hundred million families in this great land and other hundreds in other lands were praying for their sons and daughters twice daily. And what a world this would be if a billion families through the world were in home evenings and church activity and were on their physical knees pouring out their souls for their children, their families, their leaders, their governments!
This kind of family life could bring us back toward the translation experience of righteous Enoch. The millennium would be ushered in. Enoch was asked questions about himself; he answered, among other things, “… my father taught me in all the ways of God.” (Moses 6:41.) And Enoch walked with God and he was not, for God took him.
Enoch and his people dwelt in righteousness in the City of Holiness, even Zion. And Zion was taken up into heaven.
Yes, here is the answer: righteous, teaching parents; obedient, loving children; faithfulness to family duties.
These qualities in a home make for security and character in the lives of children.
The following verses of Ethel Lynn Beers, written more than a century ago, emphasize unity of the family and real parental love.
A childless man of wealth offers ease and security in exchange for one of seven children. Which shall it be?
“Which shall it be? Which shall it be?
I looked at John, John looked at me,
And when I found that I must speak,
My voice seemed strangely low and weak:
‘Tell me again what Robert said,’
And then I, listening, bent my head.
This is his letter:
‘I will give
A house and land while you shall live,
If, in return, from out your seven,
One child to me for aye is given.’
“I looked at John’s old garments worn;
I thought of all that he had borne
Of poverty, and work, and care,
Which I, though willing, could not share;
I thought of seven young mouths to feed,
Of seven little children’s need,
And then of this.
“‘Come, John,’ said I,
‘We’ll choose among them as they lie
Asleep.’ So, walking hand in hand,
Dear John and I surveyed our band:
First to the cradle lightly stepped,
Where Lilian, the baby, slept.
Softly the father stooped to lay
His rough hand down in a loving way,
When dream or whisper made her stir,
And huskily he said: ‘Not her!’
“We stooped beside the trundle bed,
And one long ray of twilight shed
Athwart the boyish faces there,
In sleep so beautiful and fair;
I saw on James’s rough, red cheek
A tear undried. E’er John could speak,
‘He’s but a baby, too,’ said I,
And kissed him as we hurried by.
“Pale, patient, Robbie’s angel face
Still in his sleep bore suffering’s trace.
‘No, for a thousand crowns, not him!’
He whispered, while our eyes were dim.
“Poor Dick! bad Dick! our wayward son—
Turbulent, restless, idle one—
Could he be spared? Nay, He who gave
Bade us befriend him to the grave;
Only a mother’s heart could be
Patient enough for such as he;
‘And so,’ said John, ‘I would not dare
To take him from her bedside prayer.’
“Then stole we softly up above,
And knelt by Mary, child of love;
‘Perhaps for her ’twould better be,’
I said to John. Quite silently
He lifted up a curl that lay
Across her cheek in a wilful way,
And shook his head: ‘Nay, love, not thee,’
The while my heart beat audibly.
“Only one more, our eldest lad,
Trusty and truthful, good and glad,
So like his father. ‘No, John, no!
I cannot, will not, let him go.’
“And so we wrote, in courteous way,
We could not give one child away;
And afterward toil lighter seemed,
Thinking of that of which we dreamed,
Happy in truth that not one face
Was missed from its accustomed place;
Thankful to work for all the seven,
Trusting the rest to One in heaven.”
May we in the Church and in this world come to know the Lord’s ways and follow them explicitly, I pray.
I add my solemn witness that President Harold B. Lee is the Lord’s divinely called prophet to this world. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
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👤 Parents
👤 Young Adults
Faith
Family
Parenting
Prayer
War
Finding Joy in His Service
Summary: During a service activity, the author observed a heavily pregnant sister energetically helping lift a burden for someone else. Her willingness and agility seemed to lighten her own load. The observation illustrated how helping others can reduce one’s own burdens.
A few months ago, while participating in a service activity I was able to observe a sister who was heavily expecting. I wondered how much she would be able to offer while carrying such a physically demanding load. The agility and energy with which this sister moved to help lift a load for another needing relief, seemed to have lightened her own load. President Spencer W. Kimball (1895-1985) observed, “Only when you lift a burden, God will lift your burden. Divine paradox this! The man who staggers and falls because his burden is too great can lighten that burden by taking on the weight of another’s burden.”3
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👤 Church Members (General)
Charity
Kindness
Ministering
Sacrifice
Service
A Prophet’s Warning
Summary: In 1959, thirty Tahitian Saints prepared to sail on the mission yacht Paraita to receive temple blessings in Hawaii, overcoming government objections and securing permissions. A messenger from President David O. McKay arrived instructing them to cancel the voyage without explanation; the mission president fasted, prayed, and the members faithfully sustained the counsel. Soon after, the yacht began sinking due to hidden damage, revealing that the cancellation likely prevented disaster. The experience deepened their conviction to follow prophetic counsel.
Finally in July 1959 the plans were completed. Thirty faithful Tahitians had worked, saved, and sacrificed to raise the money necessary to finance a trip to the Hawaii Temple. It had taken much work to bring the Paraita (literally the Big Chief), the mission yacht, into dry dock, to repair it, and to repaint it. Then there had been the problems with the French government. The officials had argued against the proposed boat trip to Hawaii. They questioned why the Mormons didn’t want to head southwest to New Zealand to attend the temple there. “You like the Americans,” they taunted. “That is the only reason why you want to go to Honolulu.” Raituia T. Tapu (the skipper of the mission yacht and later the first stake president of the Tahiti Stake) had difficulty convincing the French officials that the trip north over the Pacific Ocean to Hawaii would be safer than the trip across wide expanses of open water to New Zealand because of the many islands that could be used as shelter in case of storms. When Brother Tapu insisted, “I will have 30 passengers with me, and I won’t take them to New Zealand and face the weather that way,” he convinced the harbor master and the two of them convinced the French governor that the Saints on the Paraita should be allowed to sail to Hawaii.
Brother Tapu not only obtained permission from the French officials, but he also wrote to Salt Lake City to get permission from President David O. McKay. That permission had been granted and everything was ready.
Then a fateful call came from the mission office. Everyone anticipating the voyage was to gather for a meeting at the mission home before the departure.
The president of the French Polynesian Mission, Ellis V. Christiansen, was nervous about the forthcoming meeting. True, permission to take a group of Saints to the temple in Hawaii had been granted by President McKay, but that day a special messenger, Ernest C. Rossiter, a former president of the French Polynesian Mission, had arrived direct from President McKay in Salt Lake City. The news he brought was stunning. The Saints had been asked not to make their long-sought voyage. According to Brother Tapu, President McKay gave no explanation. He merely asked Brother Rossiter to “go and stop them. They won’t make it, and if we allow them to come, we’ll be in trouble with the [French] government. We’ll be responsible for them. So you go and stop them.”
In the mission diary, President Christiansen wrote expressing his anxiety about telling the Saints who were ready to embark:
“I was much concerned and felt I needed the Lord’s help to assist me in giving an explanation to these humble, faithful members, who had such high hopes of receiving their endowments in His Holy House. I fasted and prayed about it. I called a meeting of the priesthood members for July 15, 1959, at 8:00 o’clock, and also asked six of the faithful brethren to come to my room at 7:30, and with the help of President Rossiter we told them of the decision that had come from the First Presidency, and told them that we desired their faith and prayers in presenting the message to the members of the priesthood who would assemble at 8:00 o’clock. After President Rossiter and I had finished talking to these men, they in turn spoke briefly their thoughts, and as I listened a great joy swelled inside me as they told their desire to obey the counsel of our prophet here upon the earth.
“We went to the meeting with the priesthood members. After hearing the message from the First Presidency, [they] expressed their convictions that if this word had come from the leaders of the Church then it must have come through the inspiration of the Lord, and the only way to show their love and appreciation for the blessings He had given them was to be obedient to the counsel given. I then called for a vote, and all hands were raised accepting the decision of the First Presidency.”
So the voyage was cancelled, and neither President Rossiter, nor President Christiansen, nor the faithful Tahitian Saints really knew why the prophet of God had told them not to go. They cancelled the voyage because they had faith in the prophet.
Later, Brother Tapu, the skipper, returned to his boat where a mechanic told him that a small gear was damaged and would only provide 100 to 150 more hours of service. This fact notwithstanding, the boat was launched and anchored. Then, according to the skipper, Brother Tapu, “I layed off everybody except my first mate. I left him on board and told him to keep an eye on the boat and to repair the sail.
“Well, a couple of days later I got a call. I was over here at the mission office working on our local Church magazine. The call was from the harbor master. He said, ‘Hey, your boat’s sinking.’ And I said, ‘What, I just got it out from dry dock!’ He still said, ‘Your boat is sinking. Hurry!’ So I rushed to the harbor and the boat was halfway down. My first mate was underneath the boat checking what was going on. He found that the exhaust pipe from the kitchen was rotten. The repairmen had painted over some very rotten wood and rusty pipe. It had broken and the water went in.
“So what would you say if we were two or three hundred miles away on a lifeboat? If we had sailed according to schedule, we would have been that far on our way when the rotten pipe and wood gave out.”
At the time when the Saints in Tahiti had accepted the counsel of the prophet, they could not understand President McKay’s reason for concern. But now they understood the ways of God. Brother Tapu expressed this knowledge when he said, “That’s why I always had a testimony of President McKay, a true prophet of the Lord.”
Editor’s Note:
This story is well known among the Saints and missionaries in the Tahiti Papeete Mission. Some misconceptions have grown concerning this incident. One is that President McKay told the mission president to sell the boat at the same time the warning was given, and this being done, the boat soon sank. According to Brother Tapu, this is not true. The Church actually bought a new engine fairly soon after this event and kept the boat for about three years. Then the ship was sold and used for about two more years. At that point the government inspectors declared it unsafe for further use. It was then sailed to the other side of the island from Papeete where it rotted and finally sank. It died a very natural death.
Brother Tapu not only obtained permission from the French officials, but he also wrote to Salt Lake City to get permission from President David O. McKay. That permission had been granted and everything was ready.
Then a fateful call came from the mission office. Everyone anticipating the voyage was to gather for a meeting at the mission home before the departure.
The president of the French Polynesian Mission, Ellis V. Christiansen, was nervous about the forthcoming meeting. True, permission to take a group of Saints to the temple in Hawaii had been granted by President McKay, but that day a special messenger, Ernest C. Rossiter, a former president of the French Polynesian Mission, had arrived direct from President McKay in Salt Lake City. The news he brought was stunning. The Saints had been asked not to make their long-sought voyage. According to Brother Tapu, President McKay gave no explanation. He merely asked Brother Rossiter to “go and stop them. They won’t make it, and if we allow them to come, we’ll be in trouble with the [French] government. We’ll be responsible for them. So you go and stop them.”
In the mission diary, President Christiansen wrote expressing his anxiety about telling the Saints who were ready to embark:
“I was much concerned and felt I needed the Lord’s help to assist me in giving an explanation to these humble, faithful members, who had such high hopes of receiving their endowments in His Holy House. I fasted and prayed about it. I called a meeting of the priesthood members for July 15, 1959, at 8:00 o’clock, and also asked six of the faithful brethren to come to my room at 7:30, and with the help of President Rossiter we told them of the decision that had come from the First Presidency, and told them that we desired their faith and prayers in presenting the message to the members of the priesthood who would assemble at 8:00 o’clock. After President Rossiter and I had finished talking to these men, they in turn spoke briefly their thoughts, and as I listened a great joy swelled inside me as they told their desire to obey the counsel of our prophet here upon the earth.
“We went to the meeting with the priesthood members. After hearing the message from the First Presidency, [they] expressed their convictions that if this word had come from the leaders of the Church then it must have come through the inspiration of the Lord, and the only way to show their love and appreciation for the blessings He had given them was to be obedient to the counsel given. I then called for a vote, and all hands were raised accepting the decision of the First Presidency.”
So the voyage was cancelled, and neither President Rossiter, nor President Christiansen, nor the faithful Tahitian Saints really knew why the prophet of God had told them not to go. They cancelled the voyage because they had faith in the prophet.
Later, Brother Tapu, the skipper, returned to his boat where a mechanic told him that a small gear was damaged and would only provide 100 to 150 more hours of service. This fact notwithstanding, the boat was launched and anchored. Then, according to the skipper, Brother Tapu, “I layed off everybody except my first mate. I left him on board and told him to keep an eye on the boat and to repair the sail.
“Well, a couple of days later I got a call. I was over here at the mission office working on our local Church magazine. The call was from the harbor master. He said, ‘Hey, your boat’s sinking.’ And I said, ‘What, I just got it out from dry dock!’ He still said, ‘Your boat is sinking. Hurry!’ So I rushed to the harbor and the boat was halfway down. My first mate was underneath the boat checking what was going on. He found that the exhaust pipe from the kitchen was rotten. The repairmen had painted over some very rotten wood and rusty pipe. It had broken and the water went in.
“So what would you say if we were two or three hundred miles away on a lifeboat? If we had sailed according to schedule, we would have been that far on our way when the rotten pipe and wood gave out.”
At the time when the Saints in Tahiti had accepted the counsel of the prophet, they could not understand President McKay’s reason for concern. But now they understood the ways of God. Brother Tapu expressed this knowledge when he said, “That’s why I always had a testimony of President McKay, a true prophet of the Lord.”
Editor’s Note:
This story is well known among the Saints and missionaries in the Tahiti Papeete Mission. Some misconceptions have grown concerning this incident. One is that President McKay told the mission president to sell the boat at the same time the warning was given, and this being done, the boat soon sank. According to Brother Tapu, this is not true. The Church actually bought a new engine fairly soon after this event and kept the boat for about three years. Then the ship was sold and used for about two more years. At that point the government inspectors declared it unsafe for further use. It was then sailed to the other side of the island from Papeete where it rotted and finally sank. It died a very natural death.
Read more →
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
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Adversity
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
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Testimony
Learning from Diabetes
Summary: As a teenager, Chris resisted managing his diabetes and lived an unhealthy lifestyle. In college, a friend encouraged him to read the Book of Mormon, which sparked changes in both his spiritual life and his health management. He later served a mission and felt the Lord’s help to keep his diabetes under control despite difficult schedules.
Chris had a hard time with his diabetes when he was a teenager. Living the lifestyle of a teenager—eating out at 2:00 a.m., having a crazy sleep schedule—was hard on his body. For most of his teenage years, he tried to deny that he even had a disease.
At college, a good friend helped Chris make some big changes in his physical and spiritual health. “Up to that point,” Chris says, “I had never really taken the gospel or my life seriously. As I started to read the Book of Mormon for the first time, I felt my whole life changing. Not only did I feel the enlightening effects come into my life that one feels when reading the Book of Mormon, but I also started to feel more concern for my body and my life.”
Chris says his decision to read the Book of Mormon led to other decisions that helped him become healthier. For the first time in his life, he started testing his blood-sugar level not just several times a week like he used to, but several times a day. He says, “I began to feel so much better as I started to take care of myself.”
After Chris finished reading the Book of Mormon and received an answer that it is true, he decided to serve a mission. “Serving a mission can be tough,” Chris says. “Every day brought something new for me and my diabetes to try and conquer.” But he believes the Lord blessed him to maintain control. “Constant fluctuations in schedules, modes of transportation, and eating would lead most diabetics to out-of-control blood sugars, but the Lord was watching over me as I served my mission.” Since Chris started taking better care of himself, his health has been almost perfect.
Chris is grateful that he was not only able to serve a mission but that he was able to serve with all of his strength. “The work never suffered as a result of my having diabetes. I saw God’s hand in my missionary work every day, and I still see it now.”
At college, a good friend helped Chris make some big changes in his physical and spiritual health. “Up to that point,” Chris says, “I had never really taken the gospel or my life seriously. As I started to read the Book of Mormon for the first time, I felt my whole life changing. Not only did I feel the enlightening effects come into my life that one feels when reading the Book of Mormon, but I also started to feel more concern for my body and my life.”
Chris says his decision to read the Book of Mormon led to other decisions that helped him become healthier. For the first time in his life, he started testing his blood-sugar level not just several times a week like he used to, but several times a day. He says, “I began to feel so much better as I started to take care of myself.”
After Chris finished reading the Book of Mormon and received an answer that it is true, he decided to serve a mission. “Serving a mission can be tough,” Chris says. “Every day brought something new for me and my diabetes to try and conquer.” But he believes the Lord blessed him to maintain control. “Constant fluctuations in schedules, modes of transportation, and eating would lead most diabetics to out-of-control blood sugars, but the Lord was watching over me as I served my mission.” Since Chris started taking better care of himself, his health has been almost perfect.
Chris is grateful that he was not only able to serve a mission but that he was able to serve with all of his strength. “The work never suffered as a result of my having diabetes. I saw God’s hand in my missionary work every day, and I still see it now.”
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Missionaries
👤 Friends
👤 Church Members (General)
Book of Mormon
Conversion
Disabilities
Friendship
Health
Miracles
Missionary Work
Testimony
The Debt You Owe
Summary: John R. Moyle regularly walked about 22 miles from Alpine to the Salt Lake Temple to supervise masonry work, starting early Mondays and returning late Fridays. After a cow shattered his leg, local friends amputated it with limited medical resources. He carved a wooden leg, relearned to walk, and eventually walked back to the temple, climbed the scaffolding, and chiseled “Holiness to the Lord.”
John R. Moyle lived in Alpine, Utah, about 22 miles as the crow flies to the Salt Lake Temple, where he was the chief superintendent of masonry during its construction. To make certain he was always at work by 8:00 A.M., Brother Moyle would start walking about 2:00 on Monday mornings. He would finish his work week at 5:00 P.M. on Friday and then start the walk home, arriving there shortly before midnight. Each week he would repeat that schedule for the entire time he served on the construction of the temple.
Once when he was home on the weekend, one of his cows bolted during milking and kicked Brother Moyle in the leg, shattering the bone just below the knee. With no better medical help than they had in such rural circumstances, his family and friends took a door off the hinges and strapped him onto that makeshift operating table. They then took the bucksaw they had been using to cut branches from a nearby tree and amputated his leg just a few inches below the knee.
When against all medical likelihood the leg finally started to heal, Brother Moyle took a piece of wood and carved an artificial leg. First he walked in the house. Then he walked around the yard. Finally he ventured out about his property. When he felt he could stand the pain, he strapped on his leg, walked the 22 miles to the Salt Lake Temple, climbed the scaffolding, and with a chisel in his hand hammered out the declaration “Holiness to the Lord.” (See “Two Traditions of John Rowe Moyle,” in Biographies and Reminiscences, ed. Gene A. Sessions, 1974, 202–3.)
Once when he was home on the weekend, one of his cows bolted during milking and kicked Brother Moyle in the leg, shattering the bone just below the knee. With no better medical help than they had in such rural circumstances, his family and friends took a door off the hinges and strapped him onto that makeshift operating table. They then took the bucksaw they had been using to cut branches from a nearby tree and amputated his leg just a few inches below the knee.
When against all medical likelihood the leg finally started to heal, Brother Moyle took a piece of wood and carved an artificial leg. First he walked in the house. Then he walked around the yard. Finally he ventured out about his property. When he felt he could stand the pain, he strapped on his leg, walked the 22 miles to the Salt Lake Temple, climbed the scaffolding, and with a chisel in his hand hammered out the declaration “Holiness to the Lord.” (See “Two Traditions of John Rowe Moyle,” in Biographies and Reminiscences, ed. Gene A. Sessions, 1974, 202–3.)
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👤 Pioneers
👤 Church Members (General)
Courage
Disabilities
Employment
Endure to the End
Faith
Sacrifice
Temples
“A Great Blessing to the Land and Its Inhabitants”
Summary: While serving a full-time mission in South Africa in 2011, the author learned that President Thomas S. Monson had announced a temple in his hometown of Kinshasa, prompting great joy and gratitude. Eight years later, married with two children, he and his family witnessed the temple’s construction and its dedication in 2019. The story highlights the fulfillment of that long-awaited blessing in both his country and his own life.
In October 2011, while serving a full-time mission in South Africa, I received a phone call from Sister Catherine Wood, our mission president’s wife. All merry and bright, she told me that President Thomas S. Monson had just announced the construction of a temple in my home town, Kinshasa. I remember shouting—with joy with tears flowing down my cheeks—in gratitude to the Most High for the blessing of having a temple in my country.
Eight years later, having married and been sealed to Rachel Tshimungu in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple in 2014, I am the father of two children. Together as a family we have witnessed the fulfillment of this great miracle—not only in our country, but also and especially in our own lives. We watched as the temple rose from ground level until, finally, the Kinshasa Democratic Republic of the Congo Temple was dedicated on Sunday, April 14, 2019 by Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
Eight years later, having married and been sealed to Rachel Tshimungu in the Johannesburg South Africa Temple in 2014, I am the father of two children. Together as a family we have witnessed the fulfillment of this great miracle—not only in our country, but also and especially in our own lives. We watched as the temple rose from ground level until, finally, the Kinshasa Democratic Republic of the Congo Temple was dedicated on Sunday, April 14, 2019 by Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
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👤 Parents
👤 Children
👤 General Authorities (Modern)
Apostle
Diversity and Unity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Family
Marriage
Miracles
Sealing
Temples
Women of Covenant
Summary: A young woman recognized a critical spirit hindering her spiritual growth and covenanted during the sacrament to stop criticizing her family for a week. She renewed this promise weekly and sought the Spirit’s help. Over time, she overcame the habit, and her friends now regard her as an example of kindness.
A young woman found that she had developed a spirit of criticism. She felt that this was hampering her spiritual growth. As she partook of the sacrament, she promised the Lord that she would not criticize anyone in her family for one week.
Each week she renewed her effort and asked for the Spirit to be with her. She overcame this weakness, though it was not easy and progress was slow. Her friends now use her as an example of one who never speaks unkindly of others.
Each week she renewed her effort and asked for the Spirit to be with her. She overcame this weakness, though it was not easy and progress was slow. Her friends now use her as an example of one who never speaks unkindly of others.
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👤 Youth
👤 Friends
Family
Holy Ghost
Judging Others
Kindness
Sacrament
The Atonement at Work
Summary: After being arrested for stealing a scooter, a young man was picked up by his mother and stepfather, who responded calmly. He expressed sorrow and recognized the pain he had caused, marking a turning point in his life. He later acknowledged he had the officer call because he knew his parents loved him.
The plan began to take shape in an unexpected way when I received a phone call from the local police station. Alex had been arrested. My new husband and I put on our coats and in the middle of the night picked Alex up from the police station. We didn’t make a scene; actually Alex’s stepfather and I said very little.
When we got home, Alex told us what had happened when he and his friend had stolen a scooter. He was so sorry for what he had done. I saw for the first time a broken young man.
The arrest was a turning point for Alex as he began to realize the consequences of his actions and where he was headed. From that day on, so many blessings started to come our way.
The next day Alex told us that he had asked the officer to call us because he knew that we loved him. He also realized how much he had hurt us, and he appreciated that we had stayed calm.
When we got home, Alex told us what had happened when he and his friend had stolen a scooter. He was so sorry for what he had done. I saw for the first time a broken young man.
The arrest was a turning point for Alex as he began to realize the consequences of his actions and where he was headed. From that day on, so many blessings started to come our way.
The next day Alex told us that he had asked the officer to call us because he knew that we loved him. He also realized how much he had hurt us, and he appreciated that we had stayed calm.
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👤 Parents
👤 Youth
👤 Other
Agency and Accountability
Family
Forgiveness
Love
Repentance
Family Reporter
Summary: During family home evening, Janie’s father teaches that the Savior values record-keeping and introduces a family reporter hat and notebook. Janie becomes the first family reporter, gathers stories throughout the month, reads them to the family, and then passes the role to her brother Chris.
Janie Sigoda stared at the strange hat and bright red notebook on the table. She was still wondering what they were for when her father started the family home evening lesson.
“Did you know,” he asked the family, “that the Nephites kept records but that they didn’t always remember to write all the important things that happened to them?”
Janie forgot about the hat and notebook and raised her hand. “Yes, Dad,” she said, “in Primary Sister Lind said that Jesus asked the Nephites why parts of the story of Samuel the Lamanite hadn’t been recorded.”
“It sounds like you already know the story,” Dad said with a smile. “Can you find it too?”
Janie opened the family copy of the Book of Mormon and searched through Third Nephi. “Here it is!”
Her father began reading while Mom held the baby. Janie and her brother, Chris, sat by Dad in his big chair so that they could read together the Savior’s words about Samuel the Lamanite.
“You see,” he finished, closing the book and looking at each of them, “keeping records is very important to the Savior.”
Janie’s eyes went back to the notebook, and even before her father spoke again, she guessed what he would say.
“Do you all see this red notebook?” Dad held it high, and the baby tried to reach and grab it. “This isn’t just any old notebook,” he went on. “It’s a special reporter’s notebook. We don’t want to miss great stories in our family record either.”
He picked up the funny hat and stuck a card with Family Reporter printed on it into the hatband. “Each month someone gets to be the Sigoda family reporter. Who will be it first—Mom, Chris, me, or Janie?”
“Oh, please let it be me,” Janie begged.
Dad winked at Mom, then smiled at Janie. Pulling her close, he put the hat on her head and handed her the bright red notebook. “Here’s your equipment, Miss Sigoda. Next month you can read your report of our family stories to us.”
The month passed with lots of stories to write. One Sunday they visited Grandma, and Janie made sure that she wore her reporter’s hat and carried her notebook. Grandma always had great stories. “Tell me something about Dad when he was a boy,” Janie asked her privately after dinner.
“Oh, your dad!” Grandma laughed. “I remember the time our bishop asked the congregation to raise their hands if they wanted a new parking lot. Every person there but one raised his hand to vote yes. Then, when the bishop asked if anyone was against the new lot, your dad raised his hand high and called out, ‘I am, bishop. If you put in a parking lot, we won’t have anyplace to play basketball.’ The rest of the congregation laughed for ten minutes!”
That was a good story to report, but the best one Janie wrote was of when Chris was baptized. She worked hard to get all the details exactly right for the family records. She made sure to include the facts that Dad baptized Chris and that both grandfathers were witnesses to the baptism. And she carefully wrote down each word of Chris’s testimony after he was confirmed: “I want to thank Mom and Dad and my sisters for all that they teach me,” he said. “I know that this church is true and that Heavenly Father and Jesus love me.”
The month ended too soon for Janie. She read her stories on family night, wearing her reporter’s hat. She especially liked watching her brother’s big smile when she finished by reading all about his baptism.
“Janie,” Mom said, “Dad and I are proud of you, and I know that Heavenly Father and Jesus are too.” Dad gave her a big hug, then said, “You’re the last person to hold the family record, and like the prophets in the Book of Mormon, you get to pick who keeps the record next. So, who will it be?”
Janie looked first at her mom, then at her dad, then at Chris. She could see his eyes shining just as hers had shone the month before. “Chris,” she said, “I give the record to you.” She handed the hat and precious red notebook to him. As Chris jumped up and down and put the reporter’s hat on, Janie smiled. She knew how he felt—being a family reporter was great.
“Did you know,” he asked the family, “that the Nephites kept records but that they didn’t always remember to write all the important things that happened to them?”
Janie forgot about the hat and notebook and raised her hand. “Yes, Dad,” she said, “in Primary Sister Lind said that Jesus asked the Nephites why parts of the story of Samuel the Lamanite hadn’t been recorded.”
“It sounds like you already know the story,” Dad said with a smile. “Can you find it too?”
Janie opened the family copy of the Book of Mormon and searched through Third Nephi. “Here it is!”
Her father began reading while Mom held the baby. Janie and her brother, Chris, sat by Dad in his big chair so that they could read together the Savior’s words about Samuel the Lamanite.
“You see,” he finished, closing the book and looking at each of them, “keeping records is very important to the Savior.”
Janie’s eyes went back to the notebook, and even before her father spoke again, she guessed what he would say.
“Do you all see this red notebook?” Dad held it high, and the baby tried to reach and grab it. “This isn’t just any old notebook,” he went on. “It’s a special reporter’s notebook. We don’t want to miss great stories in our family record either.”
He picked up the funny hat and stuck a card with Family Reporter printed on it into the hatband. “Each month someone gets to be the Sigoda family reporter. Who will be it first—Mom, Chris, me, or Janie?”
“Oh, please let it be me,” Janie begged.
Dad winked at Mom, then smiled at Janie. Pulling her close, he put the hat on her head and handed her the bright red notebook. “Here’s your equipment, Miss Sigoda. Next month you can read your report of our family stories to us.”
The month passed with lots of stories to write. One Sunday they visited Grandma, and Janie made sure that she wore her reporter’s hat and carried her notebook. Grandma always had great stories. “Tell me something about Dad when he was a boy,” Janie asked her privately after dinner.
“Oh, your dad!” Grandma laughed. “I remember the time our bishop asked the congregation to raise their hands if they wanted a new parking lot. Every person there but one raised his hand to vote yes. Then, when the bishop asked if anyone was against the new lot, your dad raised his hand high and called out, ‘I am, bishop. If you put in a parking lot, we won’t have anyplace to play basketball.’ The rest of the congregation laughed for ten minutes!”
That was a good story to report, but the best one Janie wrote was of when Chris was baptized. She worked hard to get all the details exactly right for the family records. She made sure to include the facts that Dad baptized Chris and that both grandfathers were witnesses to the baptism. And she carefully wrote down each word of Chris’s testimony after he was confirmed: “I want to thank Mom and Dad and my sisters for all that they teach me,” he said. “I know that this church is true and that Heavenly Father and Jesus love me.”
The month ended too soon for Janie. She read her stories on family night, wearing her reporter’s hat. She especially liked watching her brother’s big smile when she finished by reading all about his baptism.
“Janie,” Mom said, “Dad and I are proud of you, and I know that Heavenly Father and Jesus are too.” Dad gave her a big hug, then said, “You’re the last person to hold the family record, and like the prophets in the Book of Mormon, you get to pick who keeps the record next. So, who will it be?”
Janie looked first at her mom, then at her dad, then at Chris. She could see his eyes shining just as hers had shone the month before. “Chris,” she said, “I give the record to you.” She handed the hat and precious red notebook to him. As Chris jumped up and down and put the reporter’s hat on, Janie smiled. She knew how he felt—being a family reporter was great.
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
Baptism
Book of Mormon
Children
Family
Family History
Family Home Evening
Parenting
Scriptures
Teaching the Gospel
Testimony
In Memoriam:President N. Eldon Tanner
Summary: After the family moved to Cardston in 1928, Eldon Tanner served in several local civic and Church roles. While serving as a second counselor, he discovered that deacons were missing priesthood meeting because they felt ashamed of their overalls, so he promised to wear overalls too if they would attend. His simple, understanding response raised quorum attendance to almost 100 percent.
Late in 1928 the family moved to Cardston, where Eldon again worked as school principal. To supplement their meager depression income, he sold insurance and custom-made suits, milked cows, raised chickens and a vegetable garden, and served on the town council. He also served in the Church as Scoutmaster, bishop’s counselor, and bishop of the Cardston First Ward.
While serving there as a second counselor he became a hero among the local youth with a piece of innovative leadership. It seems that few of the deacons were attending priesthood meeting. Concerned, Eldon went to each of them and found that they had only overalls to wear and were ashamed to come to meetings. He told them that if they would come to their priesthood meetings, he would attend in overalls too. They agreed, and deacons quorum attendance rose to almost 100 percent.
While serving there as a second counselor he became a hero among the local youth with a piece of innovative leadership. It seems that few of the deacons were attending priesthood meeting. Concerned, Eldon went to each of them and found that they had only overalls to wear and were ashamed to come to meetings. He told them that if they would come to their priesthood meetings, he would attend in overalls too. They agreed, and deacons quorum attendance rose to almost 100 percent.
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👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Youth
Ministering
Priesthood
Service
Young Men
A Gift Remembered
Summary: President Monson recalls counseling Mayre Nielsen to stay with stake Primary president Beryl Lord in Sydney despite concerns about Beryl’s nonmember husband. Mayre stayed, prayed, and lived her faith naturally in their home. About a year later, Frank Lord told President Monson that Mayre’s example led him to study the gospel and be baptized; he later served in Church callings, and he and his wife received their temple ordinances.
Recently I went to an Alzheimer’s care facility in Salt Lake City to visit a long-time friend, Mayre Nielsen, who is 97 years of age. I was escorted by a young woman attendant to Mayre’s bedside. As I greeted her, she looked at me with glistening eyes but did not speak a word. I said to her, “Mayre, do you remember when we first met?” Still there was no answer. I continued, “It was long years ago, when you were a member of the Primary General Board and accompanied Sister Monson and me to an assignment in Sydney, Australia.”
Without uttering a sound, Mayre watched me carefully as I continued. “You will recall, Mayre, that you were to stay at the home of the stake Primary president, Sister Beryl Lord. You had learned, however, that Sister Lord was married to a nonmember who was indifferent toward the Church. For this reason, you were concerned about staying in Sister Lord’s home and asked if you could stay at a local hotel instead. I told you I felt we should wait until we met Sister Lord and her husband and then decide where you should stay. You asked how you should act, were you to stay in their home. I told you to act as a Latter-day Saint, to be yourself, to offer the blessing on the food and to offer your evening and morning prayers.
“Do you remember, Mayre, that when we arrived at the airport in Sydney, Australia, the stake Primary president, Sister Lord, welcomed you and said, ‘I hope you are going to stay at our home’?
“You looked at me pleadingly, Mayre, obviously hoping I would suggest you stay in a hotel. However, I was impressed to suggest otherwise and told you I thought you should stay at Sister Lord’s home and meet her husband and family. I asked Sister Lord where her husband was, and she pointed to the lobby of the airport and indicated that he was standing behind a pillar, out of view. We met Frank Lord, and then you departed with them to an unknown fate.”
I paused in my narrative. Mayre Nielsen still had not spoken to me, and yet her eyes remained fixed on me. I continued speaking. “Mayre, just over a year later,” I said, “I returned to the Sydney stake to divide it and create the Sydney South stake. Following the conference, a man I recognized approached me with tears in his eyes. He told me he was Frank Lord, husband of the stake Primary president, and that just a few months earlier he had entered the waters of baptism and had become a member of the Church. I asked him how he had gone from being one who was indifferent toward the Church to one who had become a member. Mayre, he told me that it was your example and your sweet spirit when you stayed in their home that had prompted him to commence his study of the gospel and to become a member of the Church. He asked if I would be sure to thank you for the profound influence for good you had on him.
“When I returned home from attending that conference, Mayre, I telephoned you and expressed to you Brother Frank Lord’s great gratitude that you had stayed in his home and had had such a powerful effect on his life. I recall that you, too, were most grateful for the inspiration which directed that you stay with the Lord family.”
I continued speaking: “Shortly after that, Brother Lord served as a counselor in his ward bishopric and then was called to the stake high council. Since there was no temple in Australia at that time, Brother and Sister Lord journeyed to the New Zealand Temple for their endowments and sealing. Over the years Brother Lord’s testimony has remained strong. He has filled many Church positions and continues active to this day.
“Mayre Nielsen, thank you for having the truth, living the truth, and sharing the truth.”
Without uttering a sound, Mayre watched me carefully as I continued. “You will recall, Mayre, that you were to stay at the home of the stake Primary president, Sister Beryl Lord. You had learned, however, that Sister Lord was married to a nonmember who was indifferent toward the Church. For this reason, you were concerned about staying in Sister Lord’s home and asked if you could stay at a local hotel instead. I told you I felt we should wait until we met Sister Lord and her husband and then decide where you should stay. You asked how you should act, were you to stay in their home. I told you to act as a Latter-day Saint, to be yourself, to offer the blessing on the food and to offer your evening and morning prayers.
“Do you remember, Mayre, that when we arrived at the airport in Sydney, Australia, the stake Primary president, Sister Lord, welcomed you and said, ‘I hope you are going to stay at our home’?
“You looked at me pleadingly, Mayre, obviously hoping I would suggest you stay in a hotel. However, I was impressed to suggest otherwise and told you I thought you should stay at Sister Lord’s home and meet her husband and family. I asked Sister Lord where her husband was, and she pointed to the lobby of the airport and indicated that he was standing behind a pillar, out of view. We met Frank Lord, and then you departed with them to an unknown fate.”
I paused in my narrative. Mayre Nielsen still had not spoken to me, and yet her eyes remained fixed on me. I continued speaking. “Mayre, just over a year later,” I said, “I returned to the Sydney stake to divide it and create the Sydney South stake. Following the conference, a man I recognized approached me with tears in his eyes. He told me he was Frank Lord, husband of the stake Primary president, and that just a few months earlier he had entered the waters of baptism and had become a member of the Church. I asked him how he had gone from being one who was indifferent toward the Church to one who had become a member. Mayre, he told me that it was your example and your sweet spirit when you stayed in their home that had prompted him to commence his study of the gospel and to become a member of the Church. He asked if I would be sure to thank you for the profound influence for good you had on him.
“When I returned home from attending that conference, Mayre, I telephoned you and expressed to you Brother Frank Lord’s great gratitude that you had stayed in his home and had had such a powerful effect on his life. I recall that you, too, were most grateful for the inspiration which directed that you stay with the Lord family.”
I continued speaking: “Shortly after that, Brother Lord served as a counselor in his ward bishopric and then was called to the stake high council. Since there was no temple in Australia at that time, Brother and Sister Lord journeyed to the New Zealand Temple for their endowments and sealing. Over the years Brother Lord’s testimony has remained strong. He has filled many Church positions and continues active to this day.
“Mayre Nielsen, thank you for having the truth, living the truth, and sharing the truth.”
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👤 General Authorities (Modern)
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Baptism
Children
Conversion
Disabilities
Faith
Friendship
Gratitude
Kindness
Ministering
Missionary Work
Revelation
Testimony
Truth
Strengthening New Converts One by One
Summary: While serving as a YSA branch president in Florida, the author describes a young man who learned from sister missionaries and was baptized. Branch members loved and supported him before and after baptism by including him in lessons, FHE, institute, and temple work for an ancestor. Their combined, natural efforts helped him feel he belonged.
When I was serving as a branch president in a young single adult branch in Florida, we had a young man that learned about the Church through the sister missionaries and shortly after was baptized. He was the only member of the Church in his family, and he did not have any friends in the Church prior to meeting the missionaries. However, I recall that on the day of his baptism, the other members of the branch embraced him and loved him without any judgments. It was a beautiful baptism service. It felt like he was among old friends. And this happened because the members of the branch loved him and cared for him even before his baptism. They participated in his missionary lessons with the sisters. They invited him to attend family home evenings every Monday. They made sure that he was enrolled in and attending institute every week. After he was baptized, they took the time to help him to prepare a name and take it to the temple and perform the baptism for his ancestor. All these interactions occurred in a normal and natural way, and he felt that he belonged.
This was the result of a combined effort from all the members of the branch and the full-time missionaries, as we are all called to assist.
This was the result of a combined effort from all the members of the branch and the full-time missionaries, as we are all called to assist.
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👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Missionaries
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Young Adults
👤 Other
Baptism
Baptisms for the Dead
Conversion
Family Home Evening
Friendship
Love
Ministering
Missionary Work
Temples
Ministering in a Holier Way
Summary: A BYU student, struggling and near tears, silently prayed for strength. At that moment, her roommate texted love, a scripture, and testimony, bringing immediate comfort and hope. The experience illustrates Christlike ministering to the one.
Here is an example of the kind of Christlike ministering that happens among members of the Lord’s Church. A student at Brigham Young University recently wrote:
“I was going through a really rough time. One day I was really struggling and on the verge of tears. I pleaded and prayed silently for strength to continue. In that exact moment, my roommate sent me a text expressing her love for me. She shared a scripture and bore a testimony. It brought me so much strength and comfort and hope in that moment of despair.”
“I was going through a really rough time. One day I was really struggling and on the verge of tears. I pleaded and prayed silently for strength to continue. In that exact moment, my roommate sent me a text expressing her love for me. She shared a scripture and bore a testimony. It brought me so much strength and comfort and hope in that moment of despair.”
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Friends
Friendship
Love
Ministering
Prayer
Testimony
Brave Enough
Summary: During a tornado, Alyson, her sisters, and their dad were afraid while her mom was out of town. Alyson suggested they pray, and after the prayer the storm calmed and the sirens stopped. They prayed again to thank Heavenly Father, and Alyson felt assured God had protected them.
One night there was a tornado in our area and the sirens were going off. My dad was with us, but my mom was out of town, so she couldn’t comfort us. My sisters and I were afraid. I said, “We should say a prayer.” When we finished the prayer, the storm had calmed and the sirens stopped. I knew God had protected us. We said another prayer, thanking Heavenly Father. I know that when we pray, the Lord will bless us.
Alyson O., age 9, Iowa, USA
Alyson O., age 9, Iowa, USA
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
Children
Faith
Gratitude
Miracles
Prayer
Testimony
The Pizza Example
Summary: A child was still hungry at a pizza outing and wanted a slice from a sister, but parents said no; then the sister chose to give the child her last slice. Two nights later, when the sister wanted more of her favorite dinner and none was left, the child shared their portion, remembering the sister’s earlier kindness.
One night our family went out for pizza and games. When I finished eating my pizza slices, I was still hungry. I wanted to take a slice from my sister Eden, but my parents said not to. A minute later she decided to give me her last slice. That made us all smile.
Two nights later, Eden finished eating her dinner first. It was one of her favorite meals, and she wanted another helping. When I heard my mom tell her it was all gone, I decided to share mine. Eden was happy, and I felt good sharing something with her that she really likes. I remembered the good example Eden was to me when she shared her pizza.
Two nights later, Eden finished eating her dinner first. It was one of her favorite meals, and she wanted another helping. When I heard my mom tell her it was all gone, I decided to share mine. Eden was happy, and I felt good sharing something with her that she really likes. I remembered the good example Eden was to me when she shared her pizza.
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👤 Children
👤 Parents
Charity
Children
Family
Kindness
Love
Service
The Cry of the Falcon
Summary: The story describes years of wildlife research in Alaska focused on peregrine falcons, beginning with a July 1974 boat survey on the Yukon River. The author and his companions observed a troubling decline in falcon populations, empty nests, and parental neglect, including one falcon abandoning its young during a snow squall. The account contrasts the beauty and power of falcons with the tragic impact of human-caused environmental damage.
It was spine-tingling when first I heard it, and the years since have only sharpened and intensified the response. No one, I think can be so dead as to hear it and be unmoved. For it is a cry like no other; uniquely hurled at the world and bespeaking power, freedom, wild and untamed abandon. It pierces a man’s soul with the incisiveness of a laser; his every sense is shattered awake and vibrates in envying response. And line sight of that falcon in full cry on the hunt, tapered wings slicing the air with precision defying that of the best engineers, calls forth in man emotions that never die.
But the falcon’s cry speaks not only of freedom arid zest. On more intimate occasions, the chirping exchanged between a bird and its mate evoke in us a sense of affection of tenderness and commitment. Some falcons mate for life, and the pair-bond is rooted deep.
But there is also in the falcon’s cry a note of more recent vintage, one not engrained into its very genes by the millennia of its rugged and free existence but by the hand of man. And it is a note not of freedom but of pathos, not of triumph but of despair. It speaks not just for falcons but for the sanctity of all that lives.
Since 1961 I have been involved in some 20 different wildlife surveys and research projects over all parts of Alaska, including the Aleutian Islands to the west to within a few hundred miles of Russia, and then eastward as far as Greenland. During all this work our prime interest was the peregrine falcon, which today is a rapidly vanishing species in North America.
As we left Anchorage with the 24-foot river boat in tow and the bed of the pickup truck full of camping gear and food, the heavy rain clouds common during Alaskan summers were gathering over the mountains. It was July 1974. I had just met my 14-year-old son Craig and one of my university colleagues, Dr. Robert Whitmore, at the airport, and now we were headed for the Yukon River to undertake another research project.
We would head down the mighty Yukon, beginning at the point where the Trans-Alaska pipeline crosses this wild and magnificent river. In 1970 and 1972 I had surveyed parts of this region by helicopter in order to gather information on the falcons prior to the pipeline construction. Other portions of the Yukon River had been explored, but this part of the river was virtually unknown as far as the status of falcons was concerned. We would now have a chance to complete a check of the region by boat.
The salmon had just started their run upriver from the sea; they would continue their journey another 800 miles or so before spawning and dying. The July days were normally calm and sunny while the nights were crisp and cool. It is a lonely but satisfying feeling to stand around a crackling fire on a northern midnight, when it is still light enough to read a newspaper, and listen to the distant loons uttering their frenzied and maniacal calls. Sometimes, however, we were forced to remain in our tents for most of the day while the blustering winds whistled up the river and across the gravel bars where we camped. At one of our camps we found a small creek unnamed on the geological survey map, and we called it Molly Creek after my colleague’s baby daughter.
As the next three weeks passed, we visited cliff after cliff where there was evidence that falcons had at one time nested. Yet what we saw tore at our emotions. Based on the nature of the habitat, our previous years of knowledge from other portions of the Yukon River in Alaska and the Yukon Territory, and scattered information from other reports, we judged that about a dozen pairs of falcons should have been nesting on this stretch of river. Almost surely there were that many a decade ago. Now just half that number were present, and of those only two pairs had young. Some pairs still occupied their breeding places in silent splendor—but they were not producing young. Some pairs produced eggs so fragile they broke before hatching; others were not even producing eggs.
One nest we knew about had been continuously occupied for several decades. However, as we landed the boat beneath the nesting cliff, a sudden tightness gripped me, for a strange quietness seemed to surround us. Only the lap of water on the shore, the whisper of a light breeze through the ragged spruce trees, and the occasional twitter of some small bird along the river’s beach could be heard. Fearful of what we might find, we raced up the hill, scrambling over the broken talus beneath the cliff, and climbed up onto the nesting ledge. Except for a few old feathers, it was empty and lifeless. As we sat overlooking the great river flowing noiselessly beneath us and the wide expanse of the forest beyond, the outlines of two falcons came into view. Their high call, usually evoking in us a sense of the wild and the free, now seemed to carry with it a feeling of mournfulness and melancholy. They were giving the distinctive and peculiar wailing call that one soon learns to associate with deserted nests. We watched now as the two birds drifted slowly off into the arctic summer’s twilight, and all was silent again. The gallant, vigorous, and noisy defense of the nesting cliff, typical of the peregrine as it makes swoop after swoop at the intruder, was not here. Cold stones alone remained along the ledge where once there had been birth and life, low wails where once there had been loud calls of affection and anger, and only ghostlike shadows glided off into the sunset.
But the arctic offers other more satisfying and rewarding experiences, not so full of sadness and uncertainty. Let me relate one. I could not tell what caused the rough-legged hawk, who shares the cliffs with peregrines, to make repeated swoops at the top of the brush-covered bluff above its nest. The nest was only about two feet below the bluff’s brink and contained four large fledglings nearly of age to leave the nest on their maiden flights. It was July 1968 and the stillness of the tundra was only interrupted by mosquitos humming in my ears. Suddenly, the reason for the hawk’s concern became evident as a wolverine emerged from the brush and tried to reach its paw down to one of the young hawks before being struck by the parent bird. It did not succeed, however. From a flashing dive the male parent hit the wolverine squarely in the middle of the back, nearly knocking it over the bluff. The battle was momentarily decided, and the wolverine retreated to search elsewhere for food. Few people see wild wolverines, let alone watch them in such a completely natural act; we were but 100 feet away.
The peculiar behavior patterns we had seen in the Yukon falcons were not restricted to that region. We saw similar problems over vast areas of Alaska, especially on the lonely and beautiful tundras between the Brooks Range and the Arctic Ocean. There we had witnessed the falcons go from a healthy to a “sick” population starting in the late 1960s. In 1972 we even watched one falcon sit silently on a ridge next to its nest during a summer snow squall. Its proper place was sheltering its young; but its abandoning them resulted in their slowly freezing to death.
But the falcon’s cry speaks not only of freedom arid zest. On more intimate occasions, the chirping exchanged between a bird and its mate evoke in us a sense of affection of tenderness and commitment. Some falcons mate for life, and the pair-bond is rooted deep.
But there is also in the falcon’s cry a note of more recent vintage, one not engrained into its very genes by the millennia of its rugged and free existence but by the hand of man. And it is a note not of freedom but of pathos, not of triumph but of despair. It speaks not just for falcons but for the sanctity of all that lives.
Since 1961 I have been involved in some 20 different wildlife surveys and research projects over all parts of Alaska, including the Aleutian Islands to the west to within a few hundred miles of Russia, and then eastward as far as Greenland. During all this work our prime interest was the peregrine falcon, which today is a rapidly vanishing species in North America.
As we left Anchorage with the 24-foot river boat in tow and the bed of the pickup truck full of camping gear and food, the heavy rain clouds common during Alaskan summers were gathering over the mountains. It was July 1974. I had just met my 14-year-old son Craig and one of my university colleagues, Dr. Robert Whitmore, at the airport, and now we were headed for the Yukon River to undertake another research project.
We would head down the mighty Yukon, beginning at the point where the Trans-Alaska pipeline crosses this wild and magnificent river. In 1970 and 1972 I had surveyed parts of this region by helicopter in order to gather information on the falcons prior to the pipeline construction. Other portions of the Yukon River had been explored, but this part of the river was virtually unknown as far as the status of falcons was concerned. We would now have a chance to complete a check of the region by boat.
The salmon had just started their run upriver from the sea; they would continue their journey another 800 miles or so before spawning and dying. The July days were normally calm and sunny while the nights were crisp and cool. It is a lonely but satisfying feeling to stand around a crackling fire on a northern midnight, when it is still light enough to read a newspaper, and listen to the distant loons uttering their frenzied and maniacal calls. Sometimes, however, we were forced to remain in our tents for most of the day while the blustering winds whistled up the river and across the gravel bars where we camped. At one of our camps we found a small creek unnamed on the geological survey map, and we called it Molly Creek after my colleague’s baby daughter.
As the next three weeks passed, we visited cliff after cliff where there was evidence that falcons had at one time nested. Yet what we saw tore at our emotions. Based on the nature of the habitat, our previous years of knowledge from other portions of the Yukon River in Alaska and the Yukon Territory, and scattered information from other reports, we judged that about a dozen pairs of falcons should have been nesting on this stretch of river. Almost surely there were that many a decade ago. Now just half that number were present, and of those only two pairs had young. Some pairs still occupied their breeding places in silent splendor—but they were not producing young. Some pairs produced eggs so fragile they broke before hatching; others were not even producing eggs.
One nest we knew about had been continuously occupied for several decades. However, as we landed the boat beneath the nesting cliff, a sudden tightness gripped me, for a strange quietness seemed to surround us. Only the lap of water on the shore, the whisper of a light breeze through the ragged spruce trees, and the occasional twitter of some small bird along the river’s beach could be heard. Fearful of what we might find, we raced up the hill, scrambling over the broken talus beneath the cliff, and climbed up onto the nesting ledge. Except for a few old feathers, it was empty and lifeless. As we sat overlooking the great river flowing noiselessly beneath us and the wide expanse of the forest beyond, the outlines of two falcons came into view. Their high call, usually evoking in us a sense of the wild and the free, now seemed to carry with it a feeling of mournfulness and melancholy. They were giving the distinctive and peculiar wailing call that one soon learns to associate with deserted nests. We watched now as the two birds drifted slowly off into the arctic summer’s twilight, and all was silent again. The gallant, vigorous, and noisy defense of the nesting cliff, typical of the peregrine as it makes swoop after swoop at the intruder, was not here. Cold stones alone remained along the ledge where once there had been birth and life, low wails where once there had been loud calls of affection and anger, and only ghostlike shadows glided off into the sunset.
But the arctic offers other more satisfying and rewarding experiences, not so full of sadness and uncertainty. Let me relate one. I could not tell what caused the rough-legged hawk, who shares the cliffs with peregrines, to make repeated swoops at the top of the brush-covered bluff above its nest. The nest was only about two feet below the bluff’s brink and contained four large fledglings nearly of age to leave the nest on their maiden flights. It was July 1968 and the stillness of the tundra was only interrupted by mosquitos humming in my ears. Suddenly, the reason for the hawk’s concern became evident as a wolverine emerged from the brush and tried to reach its paw down to one of the young hawks before being struck by the parent bird. It did not succeed, however. From a flashing dive the male parent hit the wolverine squarely in the middle of the back, nearly knocking it over the bluff. The battle was momentarily decided, and the wolverine retreated to search elsewhere for food. Few people see wild wolverines, let alone watch them in such a completely natural act; we were but 100 feet away.
The peculiar behavior patterns we had seen in the Yukon falcons were not restricted to that region. We saw similar problems over vast areas of Alaska, especially on the lonely and beautiful tundras between the Brooks Range and the Arctic Ocean. There we had witnessed the falcons go from a healthy to a “sick” population starting in the late 1960s. In 1972 we even watched one falcon sit silently on a ridge next to its nest during a summer snow squall. Its proper place was sheltering its young; but its abandoning them resulted in their slowly freezing to death.
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👤 Other
Creation
Death
Religion and Science
What I Needed to Learn
Summary: A university student studying the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was paired with Lincoln, a returned missionary. Lincoln’s Christlike response to teachers using the Lord’s name in vain changed the student’s investigation from intellectual curiosity to a matter of faith.
The student later attended church, met with the missionaries, and investigated for two years. Through the Holy Ghost and the example of Church members, he came to believe the Church had been restored by Jesus Christ and was eventually baptized.
One weekend our school lost a big game. Some teachers in the lab vigorously discussed the loss, repeatedly using the Lord’s name in vain. Lincoln approached the teachers and asked them if they would please stop speaking about Jesus Christ that way.
“Does that really bother you?” they asked with some doubt.
“Yes,” Lincoln replied. “Jesus Christ is my best friend.”
At that moment, my investigation of the Church changed from an intellectual exercise to a question of faith. If this religion produced men like this, it was Christian in every way that mattered.
As Lincoln and I left that night, I asked if I could attend church with him sometime. After going to church, I asked him if I could have a copy of the Book of Mormon and if I could meet with the missionaries.
For two years I investigated the Church and spent time with its members. I saw a consistent pattern of sincere men and women diligently striving to be disciples of the Master. On numerous occasions the Holy Ghost confirmed to me that Jesus Christ, whom I had always tried my best to serve, really had restored His Church in our day. It was overseen by prophets and apostles and led directly by Him.
I was baptized and have now enjoyed more than a dozen years of blessings from the restored gospel and its teachings. How grateful I am that Heavenly Father answered my prayer to find a lab partner who would help me learn what I needed to learn.
“Does that really bother you?” they asked with some doubt.
“Yes,” Lincoln replied. “Jesus Christ is my best friend.”
At that moment, my investigation of the Church changed from an intellectual exercise to a question of faith. If this religion produced men like this, it was Christian in every way that mattered.
As Lincoln and I left that night, I asked if I could attend church with him sometime. After going to church, I asked him if I could have a copy of the Book of Mormon and if I could meet with the missionaries.
For two years I investigated the Church and spent time with its members. I saw a consistent pattern of sincere men and women diligently striving to be disciples of the Master. On numerous occasions the Holy Ghost confirmed to me that Jesus Christ, whom I had always tried my best to serve, really had restored His Church in our day. It was overseen by prophets and apostles and led directly by Him.
I was baptized and have now enjoyed more than a dozen years of blessings from the restored gospel and its teachings. How grateful I am that Heavenly Father answered my prayer to find a lab partner who would help me learn what I needed to learn.
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👤 Young Adults
👤 Church Members (General)
👤 Other
Conversion
Courage
Faith
Friendship
Jesus Christ
Reverence
Testimony
I Remember
Summary: The story opens by connecting Quebec’s motto, “Je me souviens,” with the young Latter-day Saints living there and the many things they strive to remember in their discipleship. It then shares several examples of Quebec youth remembering scriptures, covenants, temple experiences, Sabbath observance, and priesthood responsibilities. The article concludes with the Montreal Ward’s chapel open house, where youth helped welcome visitors and foster community interest in the Church.
You’ll see it on every license plate in the province. You’ll see it on coats of arms and marble statues. It’s the motto of the Province of Quebec: Je me souviens. It means “I remember.”
And this is a place where there is much to remember. The Province of Quebec is where France and Britain once battled for control of North America. It is the home of vast wildernesses and nomadic Native American tribes, where wise use of plentiful resources is still a challenge. It is the home of some of the oldest settlements on the North American continent, of walled fortresses and cobblestone streets now surrounded by business districts and skyscrapers.
And it is a place where the young Latter-day Saints who live here are acutely aware of many things they must remember, not just to maintain their sense of history or identity, but to live more fully the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Léa Dussault, for example, has a checklist she follows. “I work on it every day,” says the 15-year-old from St. Polycarpe, a tiny town on the Quebec-Ontario border near Hawkesbury. “I read the scriptures for 30 minutes, do at least half an hour of seminary, work with Personal Progress, and read my patriarchal blessing. I pray a lot, too. It gives me more confidence. At bedtime, I make sure all my spiritual goals for the day have been met. Otherwise, I won’t feel good when I go to sleep.”
Léa has a personal motto: “I choose to be one with Christ today.” She’s doing her best to live up to that statement.
“You must remember the blessings you can have by being faithful,” says Marc-André Côté, 15, of Chicoutimi. “Always keep that goal in mind. When Joseph Smith was discouraged once, the Lord reminded him to remember what he had been promised if he would remain faithful. [See D&C 6:13.] By thinking of the celestial kingdom and exaltation, you can find strength to overcome the struggles in your life.”
Marc should know. For four years he was away from the Church, but about two years ago he kept “asking myself what I was doing with my life. I was searching for something, and I remembered what I had felt in the Church. I felt the Spirit saying to me, ‘Go!’ So I decided to try it just one time. I had imagined it would be difficult to come back, but it was easy. It was even better than I remembered. I read a lot and studied a lot and really gained a testimony that this is the true church, organized the way the Savior wants it to be.”
Julia Awashish, a 17-year-old Native American from Quebec City, agrees with Marc. “We need to always remember the covenants we made at baptism,” she says. “The promises we have made to our Heavenly Father are the things that make us strong as members of the Church. It’s been six years since I joined the Church. I’m glad my mother and I joined, because it helps me so much when I have a problem to deal with, and it helps me remember to be happy, because the gospel is a message of joy.”
Julia says that when she and her mother returned to visit relatives in their village of Obedjiwan, which is far to the north of Quebec, at first “there was a lot of gossip about us being Latter-day Saints. But now everyone has seen by our example that we are friendly, normal people, so they accept us just fine.”
Vetséra Lapierre, 14, also from Quebec City, says she will always remember her first trip to the Toronto Ontario Temple to do baptisms for the dead. “I was so happy just to be with so many young members of the Church; the joy of it filled my eyes with tears of gratitude,” she explains. “It was something I had dreamed of for years, and now my dream was coming true. When we walked in the doors of the house of the Lord, I immediately felt a perfect peace, a spiritual strength that grew and grew as we did the baptisms. That feeling has stayed with me ever since. Now when I face a temptation, I remember how I felt in the temple. I always want to feel that peace, and I want to return to the temple again and again.”
Alexandra Gilbert felt a similar reassurance when she met President Gordon B. Hinckley at the dedication of the temple. The 14-year-old from the city of Alma says: “He wasn’t the President of the Church at the time, but now he is. He was going up the steps to go into the temple, and he paused and shook my hand and we chatted for just a moment. He’s very likable. I didn’t understand a lot, because he spoke only English to me. But I had a wonderful feeling about him. I’ll always remember meeting him, and I’ll remember that we have a living prophet.”
Robert-Emmanuel Duchesne, 13, lives in the little town of St. Monique, about 45 minutes from Alma on Lac St.-Jean. “Even though we go to a small branch, we do the same things others do in the Church. We have youth activities. We go to our meetings every Sunday. Sometimes when there’s something they want to do together, my friends will say something, but they know my Sundays are taken for church.” He made a promise to keep the Sabbath holy, and he remembers the promise.
He also remembers his commitment to magnify his calling. “There are only two Aaronic Priesthood holders in the Alma Branch, and that’s not a lot. But we do our best to serve, and I remind myself all the time that there are many young children in our branch who will grow up in the Church and who will make the branch grow. The younger kids need us to prepare the way, to work hard and be good examples.”
There’s a similar commitment to the Aaronic Priesthood in Rimouski, a town in the eastern part of the province nearing the mouth of the St. Lawrence River. “We’ve started gathering fast offerings door to door at all the members’ homes,” explains Hugo Lêvesque, 16. “We have to do some of them by car, because about 50 percent of the branch members live in other small towns in the area. But our branch president said that during the time of Joseph Smith the Aaronic Priesthood went door-to-door gathering fast offerings, so why shouldn’t we? It helps us remember our responsibilities.”
“I read scriptures with my family every morning,” says Olivia Montminy, 17, who lives in Scott and attends church in Lévis. “Then during the day I think of things I read in the scriptures or of the hymns we sang as a family and have them in my mind all day.”
She’s not alone. The youth of Montreal’s Lemoyne Ward study scriptures regularly, and each of them has a favorite passage. For Ariane Caron, 15, it’s where Nephi talks about writing what is pleasing to God, not to the world (see 1 Ne. 6:5). “I read that with my mother when I was young, and I felt such a great spirit that I had to stop and read it again. That really showed me that the scriptures are something that comes from God. That was the beginning of my personal testimony.”
For Olivier Carter, 15, it’s the story of the stripling warriors in Alma 53. “They remembered what their mothers taught them,” he says, “and they were totally loyal in keeping the commandments.” [Alma 53]
And for Esther Caron, 17, it’s Philippians 4:13 [Philip. 4:13]: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” It’s a scripture she recalls frequently, repeating it over and over when she needs a reminder to have faith.
The LDS youth of Quebec know there are many things they should remember each day, such as the need to set a good example, to live the Word of Wisdom, to stay morally clean, to be kind to family members, and to share the gospel. But in all they say and in all they do, they strive to keep a covenant they renew through the sacrament each week—to always remember the Savior.
One of the best ways to make friends is to invite them over, right? That’s what the Montreal Ward of the Montreal Quebec Mount Royal Stake did. Their new chapel created so much interest in the surrounding neighborhood of La Salle that ward leaders decided to open it up for tours.
And when they did, the youth of this ward played a major role. The Latter-day Saint teens served refreshments, directed parking, and greeted guests at the door.
“It was a good experience because it gave other people in the community an opportunity to know more about us—what we believe and what we do,” explains Melissa Poirier, 15. More than 300 non-Latter-day Saints toured the building.
When asked why his family had come to see the building, one man responded: “We watched you last year having a beautiful groundbreaking service. We saw the beautiful building going up. And now we want to see it from the inside. We are so excited!”
One woman said, “I have my own religion, but I was interested in seeing the building.” She spent hours asking questions, and when she left she said, “I didn’t know you believed in Christ. I am so impressed.”
The new building did bring a minor protest. “There were two men standing outside in the rain for six hours, handing out anti-LDS literature,” Melissa’s twin brother, Shawn, says. “We felt sorry for them, so we fixed two plates of cookies and took them out. They seemed grateful for the food.”
In addition to holding the open house, the ward also sponsored a dinner for the mayor of La Salle, the mayor’s council, the contractor, the designers, the architects, and other people involved in the construction.
“The dinner was quite fast paced, so we were on our toes most of the time,” Shawn says. “But we received many compliments. I think that was a good sign of community interest and acceptance.”
And this is a place where there is much to remember. The Province of Quebec is where France and Britain once battled for control of North America. It is the home of vast wildernesses and nomadic Native American tribes, where wise use of plentiful resources is still a challenge. It is the home of some of the oldest settlements on the North American continent, of walled fortresses and cobblestone streets now surrounded by business districts and skyscrapers.
And it is a place where the young Latter-day Saints who live here are acutely aware of many things they must remember, not just to maintain their sense of history or identity, but to live more fully the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Léa Dussault, for example, has a checklist she follows. “I work on it every day,” says the 15-year-old from St. Polycarpe, a tiny town on the Quebec-Ontario border near Hawkesbury. “I read the scriptures for 30 minutes, do at least half an hour of seminary, work with Personal Progress, and read my patriarchal blessing. I pray a lot, too. It gives me more confidence. At bedtime, I make sure all my spiritual goals for the day have been met. Otherwise, I won’t feel good when I go to sleep.”
Léa has a personal motto: “I choose to be one with Christ today.” She’s doing her best to live up to that statement.
“You must remember the blessings you can have by being faithful,” says Marc-André Côté, 15, of Chicoutimi. “Always keep that goal in mind. When Joseph Smith was discouraged once, the Lord reminded him to remember what he had been promised if he would remain faithful. [See D&C 6:13.] By thinking of the celestial kingdom and exaltation, you can find strength to overcome the struggles in your life.”
Marc should know. For four years he was away from the Church, but about two years ago he kept “asking myself what I was doing with my life. I was searching for something, and I remembered what I had felt in the Church. I felt the Spirit saying to me, ‘Go!’ So I decided to try it just one time. I had imagined it would be difficult to come back, but it was easy. It was even better than I remembered. I read a lot and studied a lot and really gained a testimony that this is the true church, organized the way the Savior wants it to be.”
Julia Awashish, a 17-year-old Native American from Quebec City, agrees with Marc. “We need to always remember the covenants we made at baptism,” she says. “The promises we have made to our Heavenly Father are the things that make us strong as members of the Church. It’s been six years since I joined the Church. I’m glad my mother and I joined, because it helps me so much when I have a problem to deal with, and it helps me remember to be happy, because the gospel is a message of joy.”
Julia says that when she and her mother returned to visit relatives in their village of Obedjiwan, which is far to the north of Quebec, at first “there was a lot of gossip about us being Latter-day Saints. But now everyone has seen by our example that we are friendly, normal people, so they accept us just fine.”
Vetséra Lapierre, 14, also from Quebec City, says she will always remember her first trip to the Toronto Ontario Temple to do baptisms for the dead. “I was so happy just to be with so many young members of the Church; the joy of it filled my eyes with tears of gratitude,” she explains. “It was something I had dreamed of for years, and now my dream was coming true. When we walked in the doors of the house of the Lord, I immediately felt a perfect peace, a spiritual strength that grew and grew as we did the baptisms. That feeling has stayed with me ever since. Now when I face a temptation, I remember how I felt in the temple. I always want to feel that peace, and I want to return to the temple again and again.”
Alexandra Gilbert felt a similar reassurance when she met President Gordon B. Hinckley at the dedication of the temple. The 14-year-old from the city of Alma says: “He wasn’t the President of the Church at the time, but now he is. He was going up the steps to go into the temple, and he paused and shook my hand and we chatted for just a moment. He’s very likable. I didn’t understand a lot, because he spoke only English to me. But I had a wonderful feeling about him. I’ll always remember meeting him, and I’ll remember that we have a living prophet.”
Robert-Emmanuel Duchesne, 13, lives in the little town of St. Monique, about 45 minutes from Alma on Lac St.-Jean. “Even though we go to a small branch, we do the same things others do in the Church. We have youth activities. We go to our meetings every Sunday. Sometimes when there’s something they want to do together, my friends will say something, but they know my Sundays are taken for church.” He made a promise to keep the Sabbath holy, and he remembers the promise.
He also remembers his commitment to magnify his calling. “There are only two Aaronic Priesthood holders in the Alma Branch, and that’s not a lot. But we do our best to serve, and I remind myself all the time that there are many young children in our branch who will grow up in the Church and who will make the branch grow. The younger kids need us to prepare the way, to work hard and be good examples.”
There’s a similar commitment to the Aaronic Priesthood in Rimouski, a town in the eastern part of the province nearing the mouth of the St. Lawrence River. “We’ve started gathering fast offerings door to door at all the members’ homes,” explains Hugo Lêvesque, 16. “We have to do some of them by car, because about 50 percent of the branch members live in other small towns in the area. But our branch president said that during the time of Joseph Smith the Aaronic Priesthood went door-to-door gathering fast offerings, so why shouldn’t we? It helps us remember our responsibilities.”
“I read scriptures with my family every morning,” says Olivia Montminy, 17, who lives in Scott and attends church in Lévis. “Then during the day I think of things I read in the scriptures or of the hymns we sang as a family and have them in my mind all day.”
She’s not alone. The youth of Montreal’s Lemoyne Ward study scriptures regularly, and each of them has a favorite passage. For Ariane Caron, 15, it’s where Nephi talks about writing what is pleasing to God, not to the world (see 1 Ne. 6:5). “I read that with my mother when I was young, and I felt such a great spirit that I had to stop and read it again. That really showed me that the scriptures are something that comes from God. That was the beginning of my personal testimony.”
For Olivier Carter, 15, it’s the story of the stripling warriors in Alma 53. “They remembered what their mothers taught them,” he says, “and they were totally loyal in keeping the commandments.” [Alma 53]
And for Esther Caron, 17, it’s Philippians 4:13 [Philip. 4:13]: “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.” It’s a scripture she recalls frequently, repeating it over and over when she needs a reminder to have faith.
The LDS youth of Quebec know there are many things they should remember each day, such as the need to set a good example, to live the Word of Wisdom, to stay morally clean, to be kind to family members, and to share the gospel. But in all they say and in all they do, they strive to keep a covenant they renew through the sacrament each week—to always remember the Savior.
One of the best ways to make friends is to invite them over, right? That’s what the Montreal Ward of the Montreal Quebec Mount Royal Stake did. Their new chapel created so much interest in the surrounding neighborhood of La Salle that ward leaders decided to open it up for tours.
And when they did, the youth of this ward played a major role. The Latter-day Saint teens served refreshments, directed parking, and greeted guests at the door.
“It was a good experience because it gave other people in the community an opportunity to know more about us—what we believe and what we do,” explains Melissa Poirier, 15. More than 300 non-Latter-day Saints toured the building.
When asked why his family had come to see the building, one man responded: “We watched you last year having a beautiful groundbreaking service. We saw the beautiful building going up. And now we want to see it from the inside. We are so excited!”
One woman said, “I have my own religion, but I was interested in seeing the building.” She spent hours asking questions, and when she left she said, “I didn’t know you believed in Christ. I am so impressed.”
The new building did bring a minor protest. “There were two men standing outside in the rain for six hours, handing out anti-LDS literature,” Melissa’s twin brother, Shawn, says. “We felt sorry for them, so we fixed two plates of cookies and took them out. They seemed grateful for the food.”
In addition to holding the open house, the ward also sponsored a dinner for the mayor of La Salle, the mayor’s council, the contractor, the designers, the architects, and other people involved in the construction.
“The dinner was quite fast paced, so we were on our toes most of the time,” Shawn says. “But we received many compliments. I think that was a good sign of community interest and acceptance.”
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👤 Youth
👤 Church Leaders (Local)
👤 Church Members (General)
Charity
Fasting and Fast Offerings
Joseph Smith
Priesthood
Service
Young Men
Kevin Ties Again
Summary: Kevin watches a little gray spider repeatedly try to stretch a thread across a corner to start a web. After several attempts and misses, the spider finally succeeds in attaching the thread. Kevin cheers for the spider's persistence.
As Kevin sat resting his chin on his fist, he saw a little gray spider starting a web in the corner of the porch. The spider swung out from one wall on a tiny silken thread, but the thread didn’t quite reach across to the other wall.
Gathering up its thread, the spider started again. One, two, three, four times the spider missed, dangling from its own thread.
“C’mon, try again!” Kevin coaxed the spider.
At last, the little creature spun out far enough to attach its thread to the opposite wall.
“Good for you,” said Kevin, getting up from the step.
Gathering up its thread, the spider started again. One, two, three, four times the spider missed, dangling from its own thread.
“C’mon, try again!” Kevin coaxed the spider.
At last, the little creature spun out far enough to attach its thread to the opposite wall.
“Good for you,” said Kevin, getting up from the step.
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👤 Children
👤 Other
Creation
Kindness
Patience