Gospel Story Finder

I grew up on a farm and worked nearly every day during the summer. I hoed beets, hauled hay, and worked with cattle and horses. Farm work was not my favorite summer activity. The days were very hot, and I had to work hard to get all my chores done.
One day when I was about 11 years old, I finished some of my chores early and had some time before I had to start my next task. It was hot, so I sat under a tree to rest. I don’t know why, but I had the Book of Mormon with me. I picked up the book and started to read. To my amazement, I couldn’t put it down. For the next three or four days I continued to have extra time during my workday. In those few days, I read the whole Book of Mormon. Every time I opened the book, I was filled with a warm, calm feeling. The presence of the Spirit was strong and bore witness to me that the book was true, and because it was true, everything else I knew about the gospel had to be true too.
Though I was baptized when I was eight, reading the Book of Mormon on the farm marked the moment of my true conversion. I do not know why I had the Book of Mormon with me on the farm that day. I often read books back then, but the Book of Mormon struck me like no other book ever did.
To this day I still remember the testimony I received of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon. It has become an anchor in my life. Since that day, I have faced many challenges, but I have never forgotten the moment I knew for myself that the Book of Mormon was true.

As a young college graduate, Marshall Romney knew very little about investing when he became interested in the money market. After talking with co-workers who were making a profit through gold and silver investments, Brother Romney decided this was the investment for him. He bought a bag of coins, arranged to store the coins with the company he purchased them from, and later used a bank loan to buy more bags.
Unfortunately, the value of the coins stopped going up and started going down. In addition to getting into debt, Brother Romney discovered the company he invested in had disappeared. They had exploited their customers by selling nonexistent bags of gold, which they conveniently offered to store in their secure warehouse. Brother Romney was a victim of fraud.

When I was a little girl, during the hot, muggy Louisiana summers, my father would promise us kids that if we were ready and waiting when he got home from work, he would take us swimming at the city park pool.

At 5 p.m. on most afternoons, I and two of my younger brothers lined up on the hot cement curb in front of our house, dressed in our swimming suits with towels around our necks, peering seriously down the street at the corner. Even the hot pavement couldn’t break our ­concentration—though sometimes we would jump back to the cool grass of the front yard for a moment, we would not shift our gaze from the far corner of the street.

When Daddy’s green Ford rounded the corner, we cheered, jumping up and down.

He would get out of the car, pull his tie off, and say, “I’ll be right back.” Soon he would return in his swimming suit, and we would be on our way to the pool.

Why did we three young kids stay so sharply focused? Why were we so certain we would get to go swimming? Because we knew our father. Because we knew he loved us, and we had felt his love. Because he kept his promises, so we trusted him. And because we knew he had power that we didn’t have: he could drive a car and get us to the swimming pool! So we focused on him—our unfailing driver—and trusted that he would get us where we wanted to go.

I can remember when I was called as a bishop, my predecessor, Bishop Russell Johnson, warned me that I would have to be careful what I asked the members to do. He said, “Some will respond to every suggestion, even at great sacrifice.” He mentioned one widow in her 80s who had cared for both a husband and a son through long illnesses before they passed away. Bishop Johnson said that despite having small resources, she would always try to respond. I found this to be true. Every time I mentioned the need for contributions or service to bless others, Sarah was often the first to respond.
One Saturday another sister called me and said, “Bishop, come quick! Save Sarah!” This sister reported that 80-year-old Sarah was on top of a ladder cleaning out this neighbor’s rain gutters. This sister was terrified that Sarah would fall and wanted the bishop to intervene.
I am not suggesting that everyone can or should imitate Sarah. Some feel guilty because they cannot meet every need immediately. I love the quote Elder Neal A. Maxwell often used from Anne Morrow Lindbergh: “My life cannot implement in action the demands of all the people to whom my heart responds.” King Benjamin taught, “See that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength.” But he added that we should be diligent.
My heart rejoices as I observe the Saints all over the Church doing everything they can to provide Christlike service wherever there is a need. Because of member contributions, the Church can quietly and quickly, without fanfare, respond to needs all over the world. The Church is already responding to the natural disasters in the Philippines, the Pacific Islands, and Indonesia.
Last year our members responded to Hurricane Gustav. The Church worked closely with a humanitarian organization led by Martin Luther King III. Mr. King subsequently visited Salt Lake City and said: “I originally came to express my appreciation to the Church for their humanitarian support, but I quickly learned that the essence of who you are is so much deeper and profound. Between the Humanitarian Center, Welfare Square, and the temple open house, I now have a greater appreciation for why you do what you do.”

When I was preparing to go on a mission, I had an interview with my stake president—who was also my father. After telling him about some of my shortcomings, I anxiously awaited his response. Would he be angry? Would he be disappointed? But my dad simply looked at me. He didn’t lecture me. He didn’t shake his head in shame. He just looked at me and told me that he loved me. I felt the most incredible wave wash over me and my entire body tingled. At that moment, I felt more than just the love of my earthly father. I felt the pure and perfect love of my Heavenly Father. I left with the realization that if my imperfect, earthly father can love me despite my weaknesses, my perfect Heavenly Father loves me perfectly and always.

I was invited to go on a camping trip with all the priests in my stake the summer before I left for college. I had just recently come back to Church after three years away. I had an extremely small testimony when I arrived at the stake center ready to go camping. I cared more about sleeping and remote-control cars than I did about the Lord. I had no clue what the trip was about, but I knew deep down I needed to go on it.
Through the entire trip my testimony kept strengthening. Every experience I had kept pushing me forward. I broke down in tears daily as I felt the Spirit touch me. On the last day of the trip, all the dirty and smelly priests gathered in the smallest branch meetinghouse I had ever seen. One by one we all shared our testimonies. When it was my turn to stand up, I felt the Spirit so strongly I started shaking. I could not stop crying, but I knew I was doing the right thing. I needed to share the testimony I had gained on this trip.
All the boys from my ward turned around and looked at me as I shared the precious gift I had been given. I could see they felt the Spirit, and this made the Spirit feel even stronger within me. I then knew, without a doubt, I was a child of God, and I had made the right decision to be baptized into the true Church of God. I knew at that moment I needed to become the best person I could be, so I would be able to be a loyal servant in the hands of the Lord.
I will always remember the looks on the faces of the priests in my ward as I shared my testimony that day. Every time I look back at that moment, I am touched by the Spirit. I had never borne my testimony before that day, nor had I received one I could share. But in that week I had grown more than I had grown since I was baptized six years earlier. I experienced the change of heart I had only read about. I had become fully converted.

About four years later, he set out to enroll at Oberlin College, Ohio, in hopes of furthering his military ambitions. On the way, he met and traveled with David W. Patten, a Mormon apostle.
Subsequently, Lorenzo went to Kirtland, Ohio, where his sister Eliza, who had joined the Church, had gone to live. He became closely associated with the Prophet and, after a time of investigation and study, was baptized in June 1836.

I would like to explain to you exactly what took place following the unexpected death of President Harold B. Lee on December 26, 1973. I was in Phoenix, Arizona, to spend Christmas with my daughter and her family when a call came to me from Arthur Haycock, secretary to President Lee. He said that President Lee was seriously ill, and he thought that I should plan to return home as soon as possible. A half-hour later he called and said: “The Lord has spoken. President Lee has been called home.”

President Romney, who in my absence was directing the affairs of the Church, was at the hospital with President Spencer W. Kimball of the Council of the Twelve. Immediately upon President Lee’s death President Romney turned to President Kimball and said, “You are in charge.” Not one minute passed between the time President Lee died and the Twelve took over to preside over the Church.

Following President Lee’s funeral, President Kimball called a meeting of the Apostles for Sunday, December 30, at 3 p.m. in the Salt Lake Temple council room. President Romney and I had taken our respective places of seniority in the Council, so there were fourteen of us present. Following a song, a prayer by President Romney, President Kimball, in deep humility, expressed his feelings to us. He said that he had spent Friday in the temple talking to the Lord, and had shed many tears as he prayed for guidance in assuming his new responsibilities and in choosing his counselors.

Dressed in our temple robes, we held a prayer circle; President Kimball asked me to conduct it and Elder Thomas S. Monson to offer the prayer. Following this, President Kimball explained the purpose of the meeting and called on each member of the Quorum in order of seniority, starting with Elder Ezra Taft Benson, to express his feelings as to whether the First Presidency should be organized that day or whether we should carry on as the Council of the Twelve. Each said, “We should organize now,” and many complimentary things were spoken about President Kimball and his work with the Twelve.

Then Elder Ezra Taft Benson nominated Spencer W. Kimball to be the President of the Church. This was seconded by Elder Mark E. Petersen and unanimously approved. President Kimball then nominated his counselors: N. Eldon Tanner as first counselor, and Marion G. Romney as second, each of whom expressed willingness to accept the position and devote his whole time and energy in serving in that capacity. They were unanimously approved. Then Elder Mark E. Petersen, second in seniority in the Twelve, nominated Ezra Taft Benson as President of the Quorum of the Twelve. This was unanimously approved.

At this point all the members present laid their hands upon the head of Spencer W. Kimball, and President Ezra Taft Benson was voice in blessing, ordaining, and setting apart Spencer W. Kimball as the twelfth President of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Then, with President Kimball as voice, N. Eldon Tanner was set apart as first counselor and Marion G. Romney as second counselor in the First Presidency of the Church. Following the same procedure, he pronounced the blessing and setting apart of Ezra Taft Benson as President of the Quorum of the Twelve.

A story in point about valiance: Zion’s Camp. Let me read you a page from Church history:
Kirtland, February 14, 1835—This day a meeting was called of those who journeyed last season to Zion [that is, Zion’s Camp] for the purpose of laying the foundation of the redemption, together with as many other of the brethren and sisters as were disposed to attend.
President Joseph Smith, Jr., presiding, read the fifteenth chapter of John, and said: Let us endeavor to solemnize our minds that we may receive a blessing, by calling on the Lord. After an appropriate and affecting prayer, the brethren who went to Zion [in Zion’s Camp] were requested to take their seats together in a part of the house by themselves.
President Smith then stated that the meeting had been called, because God had commanded it; and it was made known to him by vision and by the Holy Spirit. He then gave a relation of some of the circumstances attending us while journeying to Zion—our trials, sufferings; and said God had not designed all this for nothing, but He had it in remembrance yet; and it was the will of God that those who went to Zion, with the determination to lay down their lives, if necessary, should be ordained to the ministry, and go forth to prune the vineyard for the last time, or the coming of the Lord, which was nigh. . . .
The President also said many things; such as the weak things, even the smallest and weakest among us, shall be powerful and mighty, and great things shall be accomplished by you from this hour; and you shall begin to feel the whisperings of the Spirit of God; and the work of God shall begin to break forth from this time; and you shall be endowed with power from on high. [Documentary History of the Church, 2:181–82]
Remember Zion’s Camp? Remember the history? Remember how the Saints went up to free the land in Jackson County from which they had been driven off by mobs? Do you remember how there was no redress from the government? Remember how they marched all the way up there and didn’t fight? Do you remember how some of them got rebellious against the Prophet Joseph and others? Remember how cholera struck the camp and some people were struck down, as it were, in a moment? And then after all this, they disbanded the camp and sent everybody home. Oh, what a great opportunity to say, “Joseph really missed it this time. What a waste of time! We certainly didn’t get anything accomplished. I wonder whether Joseph Smith knows what he is talking about.”
Elder Joseph Young, in his history of the organization of the seventies, says this about the meeting about which we just read:
The following sentiment was delivered by the Prophet Joseph Smith in an address to the Elders assembled in Kirtland soon after the Seventies were organized: “Brethren, some of you are angry with me, because you did not fight in Missouri; but let me tell you, God did not want you to fight. He could not organize His kingdom with twelve men to open the Gospel door to the nations of the earth, and with seventy men under their direction to follow in their tracks, unless He took them from a body of men who had offered their lives, and who had made as great a sacrifice as did Abraham. Now the Lord has got His Twelve and His Seventy, and there will be other quorums of Seventies called, who will make the sacrifice, and those who have not made their sacrifices and their offerings now, will make them hereafter.” [Documentary History of the Church, 2:182]
The interesting thing about Zion’s Camp is that nobody knew when they were going through it why they were going through it until the Lord told them later. Do you know that in everyone’s life comes a Zion’s Camp? Many times in the quiet and stillness of a personal relationship or while you are by yourself, and without realizing it, you are proving yourself to the Lord. Without realizing it, you are demonstrating whether you’re valiant in your testimony. May each one of us be able to meet our Zion’s Camp and understand that a Lord who knows all and understands what we are going through both in public and in private will bless us for the good that we accomplish and for the right decisions that we make. So much on the principle of being valiant.

When I was a boy, I loved to walk in the fields and in the meadows, to swim in the creeks and in the ponds. My father taught me to hunt and to fish.
I enjoyed the great outdoors because it gave me a chance to be with loved ones and to admire the creations of God.
One summer our family with several other families went on an outing near Wanship, Utah. We camped in tents along the wooded banks of a beautiful river that flowed through Kamas Valley.
My friends and I spent many happy, carefree hours walking through the meadows or hunting varmints. These animals were considered pests because they ate the tender shoots the livestockmen needed for their sheep to graze on.
One afternoon while we were out hunting, I was accidentally shot at close range just above my knee. When the .22 caliber slug passed through my leg, it felt like a hot poker was going into my flesh. As the blood ran down my leg, it became numb. My hunting companions helped me to our tent a short distance away, and I called to my father to show him what had happened. He and the other men bandaged my leg to control the bleeding. They helped me into our family car and Father drove me to Coalville, Utah, where the nearest doctor lived.
When we reached the doctor’s office he laid me on an examining table. He looked at my bullet wound carefully, and then explained that it must be sterilized.
When I understood how the wound was to be sterilized, I was afraid of the pain I might have and also that I would cry. I didn’t want to cry. I wanted to show my father how brave I could be. In my heart, I said a silent prayer that Heavenly Father would help me so that no matter how bad it hurt I wouldn’t cry.
The doctor took a rod, about the size used to clean a gun barrel, and threaded a piece of sterilized gauze through a hole in one end like a giant needle. As my father held my hand, I gritted my teeth, shut my eyes, and tried to hold still while the doctor took the rod and pushed it through the hole in my leg. When it came out on the other side, he changed the gauze, put fresh antiseptic on it, and pulled it back through the hole. He pushed it back and forth three times.
Heavenly Father heard my silent prayer, for the operation did not seem to hurt as much as I thought it would. I didn’t cry!
The wound healed quickly and completely. In three weeks I was back riding my horse again. Although I was active in sports in high school and college, I have never been bothered by that leg since the accident.
As problems and difficulties have come into my life since, I have tried to face them by relying more on the help of our Heavenly Father than on the comfort that comes from tears. I learned the valuable lesson that the pain of life’s problems doesn’t seem to be so great if I don’t cry about them.

Marcus sat on the couch and watched cartoons. Mom picked up the toys and clothes he and his little sister, Julie, had left on the floor.
But it was hard for Marcus to hear the TV because Julie was crying.
Mom, can you make Julie be quiet? I’m trying to watch cartoons!
Marcus, it’s time for Julie’s nap. I want you to turn off the TV and do something else.
Marcus didn’t want to turn off the TV, but he did. He looked for something else to do. He saw his crayons, but he didn’t want to color.
He found a soccer ball, but he didn’t have anybody to play with. He picked up a toy, but its batteries weren’t working. He walked to Mom’s bedroom to ask for some new batteries.
When Marcus got to the bedroom, he saw Julie asleep in her crib. Mom was asleep on the bed next to some folded towels and a basket of socks.
Mom’s tired.
Instead of waking her up, Marcus decided to help her.
In the kitchen, he began putting the clean dishes in the cabinets, just like Mom always did—only a little louder.
After a couple of minutes, Mom walked into the kitchen. Marcus was sitting on the counter, trying to put away the plastic cups.
Marcus! What are you doing?
Surprise! I wanted let you rest.
Thank you, Marcus. I was very tired.
Mom gave Marcus a big hug and a kiss. As much as Marcus loved to watch cartoons, doing something to make Mom happy made him feel even better.

Melanie Gapiz of the Pasay First Ward, Pasay Philippines Stake, has firsthand knowledge of this principle. The daughter of Elder Ruben G. Gapiz, an Area Authority Seventy, Melanie is a successful freelance producer of television commercials. For several years she worked as head of the production department for a prominent television commercial production company in Manila. In that position she faced a difficult dilemma when she found out some employees were embezzling. “I discovered some irregularities involving some of the employees,” she says. “People were making money unethically within the company.”
She talked with her immediate boss and learned he was part of it. “So I went to the president. He wasn’t involved, but he somehow knew what was going on, and he couldn’t have cared less,” she says. This reaction left Melanie with a dilemma. She could turn her back and pretend the problem did not exist. But she knew if she kept working there, people might think she too was involved. “It was difficult,” she admits, “because I was earning monthly compensation and benefits.” But she knew what she had to do. After counseling with her parents—who reminded her of Church standards but told her it was her decision—she left the company and began working freelance.
“I left on good terms,” she explains. “Actually, when I talked with the president, he told me he admired my principles, but he couldn’t feed his people with principles.” She has never regretted her decision, and the Lord has blessed her in her work.
“I’ve always believed in the gospel of Jesus Christ,” says Sister Gapiz. “The law of tithing has helped me a lot. Fasting and prayer have helped. Every time there’s an important decision to make, I fast and pray about it, and I receive help.”

Sometimes overcoming fear is a journey, like traveling through a dark valley, as Psalm 23 mentions. Nicolas F., from Brazil, can testify that if you keep moving forward, healing will come. He struggled with feelings of failure and fear for a long time.
“I prayed a lot, asking God to take the bad thoughts out of my mind, asking Him to take away the bad feelings,” he says. He went through times of confusion and dwelt on the mistakes he’d made.
“I tried to find the power of God, but I didn’t yet feel His healing,” says Nicolas. He searched the scriptures for verses about overcoming fear and found strength in those words. He got support from his mother and others.
Eventually, one afternoon, he felt particularly whole and grateful. He realized how far he had come.
“Before I felt like I was in prison,” he says. “But now I feel like I can win the battles. As I seek the Lord’s help, I feel hope.”

After World War II ended a few years later, my grandparents were still living in Czechoslovakia when two young missionaries knocked on their door. After attending the small branch and taking the discussions, they received a witness of the truthfulness of the gospel and decided to be baptized. The evening of the baptismal interviews, however, the missionaries and Church leader did not arrive. At the next branch meeting, my grandparents learned that due to political upheaval, all of the missionaries had been required to leave the country. Any further religious practice would now also be prohibited. Nevertheless, the small group of Saints in the area kept their faith, now directed through local leadership and priesthood keys. My grandparents and my aunt were baptized in secrecy in 1950.

Let me share with you for a few moments the positive, progressive attitude of a friend of mine formerly confined in the Utah State Prison. “I don’t want to blame anyone back home for my being in prison, but it is factual that I had no family relationships. I was involved in the family home evening program at the prison. Without the people [parents] who had been assigned to me through this program, many times I would have given up. These people loved me as if I were their own son. I have never had that, even when I was a small boy. Now with their help and the help of others I believe I can make it back a day at a time. I am not proud of having been in prison, but I am proud of my recent experiences while there. We have a tendency to blame others. We don’t want to blame our parents for not loving us, because we know they do, but maybe they didn’t have the guidance and direction in their lives to apply when they were bringing us up.”
Perhaps in the minds of many of us this fine young man would be justified in knocking his parents, knocking society, and knocking our systems, but he didn’t. Instead, he is thanking those who have helped him and is sincerely grateful for the direction in which his life is moving today.
Church attenders in prisons are, unfortunately, in the minority and are often classified by their associates in uncomplimentary terms, but this fine young man, bless his courage, is not ashamed to be identified as a member of “God’s Squad.”

In my senior year I started every game. We went 9-2-1, were nationally ranked, and went to the All-American Bowl in Birmingham, Alabama.
Before the game in Birmingham they have lots of festivities for the players. One of the activities was a Fellowship of Christian Athletes breakfast that was open to the public, and there were several hundred—probably a thousand—people there.
The night before, as I was saying my prayers, I felt that somehow I was going to speak at that breakfast. I didn’t know anything about the program, but I prayed that if I was called on, the Lord would be with me and I would be able to share something that would uplift those in attendance.
We got up early and went to the breakfast, and I was really enjoying it. When Coach Hydrick came up to me with a big smile on his face, I knew exactly what he was going to ask.
“Sam,” he said, “I was wondering if you would give a brief talk about your testimony and your relationship with the Lord.”
I said, “I’d love to.” Then I looked at my buddies at the table and realized that I’d never spoken to an audience of non-Mormons before. I had this extreme paranoia come over me, and I wondered what I was going to say.
As they introduced me and I walked up there before all those people, I felt weak all over. I don’t remember what exactly I said. I know I told them about the Savior and how he’d taken upon himself the sins of all mankind. I was doing pretty well emotionally until I started talking about my teammates. Then I started to cry because I loved them. I closed in the sacred name of the Savior.
Suddenly, I heard people start saying, “Amen,” “Hallelujah,” “Praise the Lord!” I was a little shocked at first. But then I saw people were crying, and I was crying, and it was a wonderful experience. After the breakfast, many people told me what I had said impressed them. I was just grateful that the Lord was able to touch their hearts.

One day Dad woke us up very early. Mom had had a bad night, and she was very, very ill. She wanted to talk to us because she knew that it was almost time for her to go back to live with Heavenly Father.
When we went into her bedroom, she reached out and touched each of us and told us how much she loved us. “Now, here’s a little testimony for you,” she said. “Even though I’ll be leaving you very soon, it’s part of Heavenly Father’s plan.”
We all wept. It didn’t seem as if there could ever be enough time to tell Mom how much we loved her.
“Sweetheart,” she said to Dad, “would you bring me the special book I have been keeping, please?”
Dad handed her a pretty journal.
“This journal is filled with lots of little things for you to remember when I’m not here to talk to you anymore. It’s full of little testimonies for you. I want you to remember how much I love the Savior. I want you to love Him that much, too, so that we can always be together.”
We opened the beautiful book. The pages were filled with memories, in Mom’s handwriting, of the joy of the days gone by. We read things like, “I saw some tiny kittens at Aunt Sis’s house. They knew their mother immediately, without even being able to see. We can learn to know the Savior like that, if we have faith.” “The garden seeds are sprouting. After the long, cold winter, it’s good to see them coming up again. It reminds me of the Resurrection, and the promise of new life.”
We closed the book before we had time to look at all the pages. Mom was closing her eyes, but she had a smile on her face. “Whenever you feel lonely for me, I want you to read this book.” She opened her eyes. “I want you to remember that the Savior loves you very much. When you pray, you will feel safe and calm and you will know that I love you still.”

I grew up on a small farm in southwest Utah. To escape the heat, our family would sometimes drive up a nearby canyon where a creek flowed year round. I can still feel the dry desert air blowing in my face in the backseat of the car. As we entered the canyon, the air became cooler and more fragrant.
My favorite place to go was the Big Spring, the major source of the creek. At the base of an almost vertical canyon wall, a steady stream of clear, cool, sweet water burst from a cleft in a large boulder.
I learned how to get a drink by watching my father kneel on a large, flat rock and scoop water from the spring. He would never drink downstream, where the water had been fouled by surface runoff. Near the source, the water would always be pure and clear.
As a young boy I learned the difference between the common, muddy water that flowed past my home and the pure, clear water from the stream in the canyon. To obtain the pure water, I had to climb to higher ground. I had to walk the narrow path, and I had to kneel. The pure, clear, sweet water came only at the source of the spring, and it was constant.

Sometimes grown-ups come to visit Myriam’s school. They walk around and look at the tapestries that Myriam and the other children are making, but they are not allowed to give advice about what the children should weave. This is what makes the Wissa Wassef School unusual. Professor Ramses Wissa Wassef believes that every person is a natural artist but that by the time most people grow up they have learned not to be artists.
The professor set up his school in Myriam’s quiet little village to prove his idea. He provided looms for several children, ranging in ages from six to eleven, and taught them how to string the looms and how to weave. Then he told them to make up their own designs. He did not allow them to follow patterns or to copy someone else’s work. Grown-ups were not allowed to criticize the things the children made. An artist once asked one of the children how she could weave without first drawing what she was going to weave. The girl replied, “I can’t draw; I can only weave.”
Myriam and the other children have proved that they can produce works of art. People have bought the tapestries to hang in their homes, museums, and art galleries, so the children are paid for their work.

The Appleton District of the Milwaukee Wisconsin Mission held a fun youth conference right in their own backyard. They planned to sail and swim in Lake Michigan.
The unpredictable weather served up two beautifully sunny days. Following the theme of the conference, “Chart Your Course,” the leaders cast the youth adrift, in theory only, in groups of six with a survival kit. Each group was to decide which items were necessary for survival. The exercise was used to foster a discussion of our journey through mortality and what things are necessary for a safe return to our Father in Heaven.
Workshops in aerobics and a Coast Guard presentation in boating safety were held prior to an afternoon swim in the lake. That evening, garbed in pirate costumes, the group had a banquet and dance.
The following morning, breakfast was prepared for the group by the Young Men. After additional workshops on spiritual survival and an emergency course in human relations, the young people were invited on board a sailboat built by a member of the district.
One of the special experiences of the conference was the participation by one young man who was battling a serious illness. Although he had difficulty participating in some of the activities, the others helped him enjoy the conference.
The group returned exuberant and pleasantly tired for an evening testimony meeting. They bore testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel and the appreciation for meeting together with other young members of the Church.