Gospel Story Finder

One of the fathers he was teaching had what was thought to be an incurable alcohol problem. Every day after work for twenty years, he bought alcohol and consumed it until he could hardly find his way home. He received friendship and encouragement to pray to heaven for help. One day after his work, while he was driving into the countryside with his bottle, a voice came into his heart to stop his car, walk out into the field, and pray to Father in Heaven for help. His simple prayer was heard by his Father in Heaven, and as he stood up and walked back to his car, all desire to drink liquor left his life. The powers of heaven had descended upon him, and he knew that God lived and loved him.

I heard him later stand before the members and testify of the love of God and of my friend and others who had ministered unto him and taught him.

Aurelia Spencer Rogers began at a very young age to follow Heavenly Father’s plan for her. She was six years old when her parents joined the Church. Her family moved from Deep River, Connecticut, to Nauvoo, Illinois. When the Saints were forced to leave Nauvoo, Aurelia’s mother died, leaving seven young children. They and their father crossed the Missouri River and went to Winter Quarters, Nebraska, where he built a log cabin for them to live in.
When Aurelia was twelve, her father was called to serve a mission in Great Britain. She and her fourteen-year-old sister, Ellen, said that they would care for the family while he served the Lord. How would you feel if your father went to serve a Church mission and left you in a new land to take care of little brothers and sisters?
Aurelia loved all children and was concerned about them. When she was a young married woman, she felt that parents needed help in teaching their children about the gospel and about how to treat one another with kindness. When the Primary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was established in 1878, Aurelia was called to be its first president. Today, all of us can enjoy Primary because Aurelia Spencer Rogers followed Heavenly Father’s plan for her.

The road to recognition in this country has been both difficult and frustrating. Since receiving our European assignments, Elder Ringger and I have traveled to Czechoslovakia at least once each year to meet with governmental officials in Prague. Two transoceanic journeys were rewarded only with failed appointments or hopes dashed with the empty statement that “your request for recognition is still being studied.” When we returned to Prague on 6 February 1990, however, we found that the official with whom we had been dealing had been removed from his chair. When his successor heard our complete story, he said, “Your request for recognition will be approved this very month. Your people may again worship in full dignity. Your missionaries may again return to this country.” Recognition was granted February 21, effective 1 March 1990.

When that important declaration was made, I sensed that the real hero in this story was our district president in Czechoslovakia, Jiri Snederfler. Some two and one-half years earlier, Elder Ringger and I had learned that recognition could be formally requested only by a Czechoslovakian member of the Church. So we went to the home of Brother and Sister Snederfler. We explained that we had just received that information from the chairman of the Council of Religious Affairs. Knowing that other Czechoslovakian leaders and thinkers had been imprisoned or put to death for religious or dissident belief, we told Brother Snederfler that we, as his Church leaders, could not and would not make that request of him. After contemplating only a brief moment, Brother Snederfler humbly said, “I will go! I will do it!” As he spoke, his wife, Olga, shed a tear. They embraced and said, “We will do whatever is needed. This is for the Lord, and His work is more important than our freedom or life.”

Some months later, when the papers were properly prepared, Brother Snederfler submitted them personally. He and our members were then subjected to strict surveillance. The Saints continued in courage and faith. Ultimately, after periodic fasting and prayer and complete compliance with all requirements, that glorious announcement of recognition came. How I admire the Snederflers and all these stalwart members who endured so much interrogation and risk!

Brother Snederfler has been called to preside over the Freiberg Germany Temple effective 1 September 1991, succeeding President Burkhardt, who has given more than six years of devout and faithful service. Sister Olga Snederfler will serve as temple matron, succeeding Sister Inge Burkhardt.

On 1 July 1990, a mission in Czechoslovakia, forbidden for forty years, was again opened, with Richard W. Winder as president of the Czechoslovakian Mission. He had served in that country on his first mission as a young man. His wife, Barbara, was released as general president of the Relief Society to accompany her husband on this crucial assignment for which they alone were so uniquely qualified.

The Laurels in the Chatsworth Second Ward, Los Angeles California Chatsworth Stake, learned a great lesson about service when they cleaned an elderly lady’s house one Saturday.
Armed with buckets, mops, soap and rags, they cleaned the house until it sparkled inside and out. The sister they helped is confined to a wheelchair and greatly appreciated their service.
“I know the Spirit was with us because we felt so close to one another after we had finished,” said Julie Jensen, president of the Laurel class. “After this experience we knew that it wasn’t only the work we were helping her with, but that we made her feel so happy. That is what service projects are all about.”
The Laurels all agreed that they should do even more service projects, because they learned such a valuable lesson with this one.

“Turn on your lights”—Sister Sharon Eubank’s message for October 2017—was the theme of our stake Relief Society activity for this year 2018.
The purpose was to unite sisters, increase their self-­worth, and enlighten their minds toward ministering and temple preparation.
All were excited. The preparations from the stake activity committee began. They started planning, organizing, and assigning sisters for the activity.
We were five wards and one branch, which was a big number to coordinate. Each ward’s sisters were assigned with a topic to present on the day of activity with a skit or presentation.
And these were the topics covered:
Being righteous
Being articulate/different/distinct
Being happy
Preparing for the temple
Being self-reliant
Ministering/the worth of souls
Each ward started preparing for their presentation on the activity day. The long wait came to an end.
?It was a beautiful morning. When the activity began, there were not as many sisters as was expected. However, they began with an opening hymn and prayer. And slowly more sisters started coming in. There was a message from the stake Relief Society president. She displayed different kinds of lights and explained about each light, comparing it with the qualities of the sisters. It was a beautiful message.
Then the actual part of the sisters came. It was time for them to showcase or present their topics.
Here I would like to talk about the dedication and the commitment of one group of sisters of a small branch of another city which belongs to our stake. They had to travel two-and-half to three hours to join the activity. They began with the presentation of being righteous women. They were indeed righteous women by example.
Each group of sisters came forward and presented their topics in the form of skits. Every one of them had put in a lot of effort to convey the message in a spiritual way and with a little bit of humor.
We all laughed and enjoyed ourselves, but in the end of each presentation, we were touched by the Spirit for the messages they carried about how to be happy always, how to be articulate and different, how to be self-reliant, and how to prepare for the temple.
It was amazing to see how the sisters joined hands together, both young and old, in acting it out. Lastly it was concluded by the testimonies of a few sisters who strengthened ours for their commitment to the gospel.
We all were given a framed picture of lights to remind us to turn on lights that we have and give light to others and also to help others to turn on theirs as well. Along with it was a reminder of the four things President Nelson challenged the sisters to do during the last general conference.
On the whole, the activity was great! The stake Relief Society presidency had planned very hard to put all this together for us to learn and enjoy at the same time. They even had to work till midnight to pack those gifts for the sisters. We could see and feel the love and dedication they had for all of us and they turned on their lights. The sisters from the KGF Branch were different and articulate by setting an example of traveling so far to show how much they loved the Lord.

We are indebted to Dr. Homer Ellsworth for sharing with us many years ago two contrasting stories about the happiness of mothers. Often, in the days when the gender of the child could not be predetermined, expectant mothers were very set upon having a boy or a girl. Sometimes when the baby was not of the anticipated gender, the mother was temporarily disappointed. Of course this disappointment was forgotten as soon as the mother cuddled her newborn for the first time.

Dr. Ellsworth told us that a few new mothers demonstrated their immaturity for a day or two. One who wanted a boy baby and happened to receive a girl baby showed her displeasure by throwing tantrums and objects all over her hospital room for a day or two. One wise old nurse, when feeding time came, took a baby boy born with a small facial deformity from the nursery and quietly slipped him into the disconsolate mother’s arms. The immature mother exclaimed, “This is not my child!”

The wise old nurse said, “Well, it is the right sex. Maybe its mother would be willing to trade babies with you.” There followed no more demonstrations of immaturity.

Recently I learned of a fearless young Laurel. She was invited to participate in a statewide competition for her high school on the same evening she had committed to participate in a stake Relief Society meeting. When she realized the conflict and explained to competition officials that she would need to leave the competition early to attend an important meeting, she was told she would be disqualified if she did so.

What did this latter-day Laurel do? She kept her commitment to participate in the Relief Society meeting. As promised, she was disqualified from the statewide competition. When asked about her decision, she replied simply, “Well, the Church is more important, isn’t it?”

My brother, Colonel Leon C. Packer, was stationed at the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. A much decorated B-24 pilot, he became a brigadier general in the Air Force.
While I was at Langley Field, the war in Europe ended, and so we were ordered to the Pacific. I spent a few days with Leon in Washington before shipping out for combat.
He told me of things he had learned under fire. He flew from North Africa on raids over southern Europe; very few of those planes returned.
On April 16, 1943, he was captain of a B-24 bomber returning to England after a raid in Europe. His plane, the Yard Bird, was heavily damaged by flak and dropped out of formation.
Then they were alone and came under heavy attack from fighters.
His one-page account of that experience says: “Number three engine was smoking and the prop ran away. Number four fuel line was shot out. Right aileron cables and stabilizer cables were shot out. Rudders partially locked. Radio shot out. Extremely large holes in the right wing. Flaps shot out. Entire rear part of the fuselage filled with holes. Hydraulic system shot out. Tail turret out.”
A history of the Eighth Air Force, published just two years ago, gives a detailed account of that flight written by one of the crew.
With one engine on fire, the other three lost power. They were going down. The alarm bell ordered that they bail out. The bombardier, the only one able to get out, parachuted into the English Channel.
The pilots left their seats and made their way toward the bomb bay to bail out. Suddenly Leon heard an engine cough and sputter. He quickly climbed back to his seat and coaxed enough power from the engines to reach the coast of England. Then the engines failed, and they crashed.
The landing gear was shorn off on the brow of a hill; the plane plowed through trees and crumbled. Dirt filled the fuselage.
Amazingly, though some were terribly wounded, all aboard survived. The bombardier was lost, but he probably saved the lives of the other nine. When smoke poured from the engines and a parachute appeared, the fighters stopped their attack.
That was not the only time Leon had crash-landed.
As we visited, he told me how he was able to hold himself together under fire. He said, “I have a favorite hymn”—and he named it—“and when things got rough I would sing it silently to myself, and there would come a faith and an assurance that kept me on course.”
He sent me off to combat with that lesson.

I remember the first meeting I attended after I had been asked to serve on the Board of Trustees for Church Education System. I was instructed very politely on two occasions that the meeting always started on time and that I might like to come a little bit early. I am usually fairly prompt, but I didn't want to appear eager, so I timed myself carefully to walk into the board room about five minutes to ten. As I walked in the door, five minutes early, everyone else was seated at that long table and I heard President Hinckley say, "is Sister Hales coming?" Everyone else in that room knew that although we may joke about Mormon standard time, in the Church Administration Building they work on what I learned to call President Hinckley standard time. I have never heard President Hinckley give a talk about being on time, but you may guess that I was never again the last one to enter that room. When I think of President Hinckley's example, it reminds me how much it means to leaders, teachers and loved ones to be trusted to be at the appointed place at the appointed time--and maybe even a little bit early! When it comes to trust or being trusted, there are no unimportant items.

In junior high school we were all required to take a music class. In this class we all had to audition for the school choir. The teacher would call your name, and you would have to go stand in front of the sneering class, by yourself, and sing what you were asked to. The teacher called out the names Larson, and then Murphy, and then I knew that my time of reckoning was nigh. I started to panic and asked to be excused to get a drink of water. While I was out in the hall, I dreamed up the most elaborate plans for my instant escape. I wanted to run away, but my feet carried me back into class just in time to hear my name read. I walked slowly to the front of the room and was asked to sing one scale. That was all. My voice did not go nearly as high or quite as low as some of the others had, but at least it did not crack. I had wanted to sing more, to prove that I could miraculously do better, but I was told that I could now please take my seat. I was sure that I had not done well enough, but to my surprise, when the list of the choir members was posted, my name was on it. Now, singing is certainly not one of my stronger talents, yet my greatest victory was still to come.

One afternoon we were in the auditorium practicing for an upcoming concert. We were being arranged on the bleachers according to our height. I was near the top. Our director stood back to evaluate the scene, but she was not satisfied with our appearance. She told the girl who was next to me that she was not quite tall enough to stand on our row. The girl spoke up politely and said, “It helps me to stand here next to Gay because it’s easier to get the notes right.” At that moment I felt as if I had conquered all doubts.

Our talents need to be shared and it is through this that we find real happiness. “Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).

Years later, during the summer of 1968, missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints visited the home of a family member. She declined the elders’ invitation to learn about the Church but sent them to my home.
At our first meeting the missionaries taught me that “a falling away” had occurred from the Church that Jesus Christ had established (see 2 Thessalonians 2:3). What they taught coincided with my personal study, so when they asked if they could visit me again, I agreed.
During their next visit, I had a list of questions. Did Latter-day Saints baptize by immersion? Did they believe in priesthood authority? Did they believe in the healing of the sick? Their answers supported what I had studied in the New Testament. At the end of the visit, they left me with a book they said testified of Jesus Christ.
I set the book on top of the TV and went to bed. But in the middle of the night, I was awakened by a strong feeling I later recognized as the Holy Ghost. I felt prompted to start reading, so I read for an hour and a half before returning to bed. A short time later, I reawakened with the same feeling, so I read some more.
This pattern continued for the next two nights. I loved what I was reading and recognized that the Book of Mormon testified of Jesus Christ.
I decided to ask God for direction. For the first time since I was a little girl, I knelt to pray. I asked Heavenly Father to help me know what to do with the fire I felt inside of me. When I finished my prayer, I felt prompted to revisit the account of the Lamanites’ conversion in 3 Nephi 9. I read that they “were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not” (verse 20).
The phrase “they knew it not” spoke to me. The thought came to me: “The Church of Jesus Christ really is on the earth!” I was eager to talk to the missionaries about what I had read and what I now knew. But when they responded to my questions with an invitation to be baptized, I told them I couldn’t. My husband wouldn’t understand.
As I continued to think about that verse, however, I realized that it contained clear direction for me to offer the sacrifice of “a broken heart and a contrite spirit.” I prayed and asked my Father in Heaven to help me, which He did. After my husband took the missionary discussions, he gave his consent for me to be baptized.
How grateful I am to a loving Heavenly Father for that precious and powerful experience I had as a young mother in reading the Book of Mormon. It led me to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. As a result, the influence of the Holy Ghost I felt those nights in 1968 is now a constant gift—something that has guided me during my more than 40 years as a member of the Church.

One morning as I finished reading from and pondering the Book of Mormon, I realized that I would again finish it by the end of the year. This realization brought back the memory of my brother, whom I cared for in my home during his final weeks with terminal cancer in 2005.
Oliver was determined to fulfill a promise to himself to follow the counsel of President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) and read the Book of Mormon by the end of the year.1 But by that fall, Oliver still had many pages to go. Eventually he became so weak that he could no longer read to himself.
Determined to keep his commitment, Oliver asked me if I would read the Book of Mormon to him. I was much further along in my own reading, but I was glad to begin where he had left off.
By reading to Oliver every day, I was able to help him reach his goal to finish the book by year’s end, just days before he died. By that time he could hardly speak audibly, but his mind was clear and active. With much effort, he often expressed his appreciation to me for the gift I had given him, saying he could now die in peace because he had fulfilled his promise.
I had read the Book of Mormon many times before, but I had never felt its spirit so powerfully or understood its precepts so clearly as I did during those waning months of my brother’s life. Truly, Oliver had given me the greater gift.

Several years after the difficult trial the Alvarez family faced, I witnessed how another faithful family dealt with great adversity. Several members of the Quero family had died in a terrible car accident. Brother Abraham Quero lost his parents, two sisters, his brother-in-law, and his niece in that accident.
Brother Quero showed an admirable attitude when he said the following:
“This was the time to show loyalty to God and to acknowledge that we depend on Him, that His will must be obeyed, and that we are subject to Him.
“I spoke to my brothers and gave them strength and courage to understand what President Kimball taught many years ago, that ‘there is no tragedy in death, but only in sin’ (Teachings of Presidents of the Church: Spencer W. Kimball [Melchizedek Priesthood and Relief Society course of study, 2006], 18) and that the important thing is not how a man died but how he lived.
“The words of Job filled my soul: ‘The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord’ (Job 1:21). And then from Jesus: ‘I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live’ (John 11:25).
“This was one of the most spiritual experiences we had as a family—to accept the will of God under such very difficult circumstances.”

Clarence stared out the car window as the harbor came into view. Boats floated in the water in front of colorful houses and shops. Copenhagen, Denmark, was a beautiful city filled with palaces, mansions, and parks. It was not at all like Clarence’s hometown in Utah, USA. Clarence could picture the dusty streets where he ran races as a boy. Now he was a member of the United States track team, and tomorrow he would be facing a famous Danish runner in an important race.
The car stopped at a small chapel where a Church meeting had already started.
As Clarence slipped into the back of the meeting, one of the missionaries sitting on the stand recognized him from a news article about tomorrow’s race. The branch president asked Clarence to come up and speak.
After Clarence told why he was visiting, a boy stood up and raised his hand. “Do you think you can beat the Danish champion?” he asked.
Clarence wasn’t sure what to say. The Danish runner did have a better time in the mile that season.
“Of course he can,” said one of the missionaries before Clarence could answer. “Because he lives the Word of Wisdom.” He opened his scriptures to Doctrine and Covenants 89. He read the promise that those who keep the Word of Wisdom “shall run and not be weary, and shall walk and not faint” (verse 20).
Clarence saw a long row of boys looking up at him. What could he say? As a child he had promised to always keep the Word of Wisdom. But that alone didn’t mean he could win this race. Winning also required practice and skill. As Clarence left the meeting, he thought, Well, no one from church will be at the race tomorrow anyway.
The next evening as Clarence was warming up for his race, he looked up and saw the two missionaries with a group of about 17 boys. They had come!
As they got closer, one of the missionaries whispered to Clarence, “If you’ve ever run fast in your life, you’d better run fast tonight.” Many of the boys weren’t members of the Church but had come with their friends to see if the Word of Wisdom was really true.
Clarence was worried. In this race, his best might not be good enough. But he was running for a principle of the gospel of Jesus Christ. He had to win. He had never prayed to win before, but he found an empty room to kneel and pray.
He prayed, “Father in Heaven, I know the Word of Wisdom is true, and I have never broken it. Please bless me with victory in this race.” As he walked out to the starting line, he knew Heavenly Father had heard his prayer. He trusted Heavenly Father’s will.
The evening was rainy and muddy. As Clarence began the race, it seemed just like many other mile races he had run. The pace was fast, and the Danish champion was ahead. But as Clarence finished the third lap, suddenly he was not tired anymore. He started running faster, and it didn’t hurt. Going even a little faster still didn’t hurt. He passed the Danish champion and still went faster.
As Clarence came around the turn, his coach yelled, “Slow down! You’ll never make the finish line!” But Clarence knew he could keep running. And when he finished the race, he was more than 50 yards (46 m) ahead of the Danish runner! He knew he had won because Heavenly Father had answered his prayer and because the Word of Wisdom is true.
Clarence F. Robison raced in the 1948 Summer Olympics and became a great college track coach. When he was young, he promised his mother he would always keep the Word of Wisdom. He knew this wouldn’t make him win all his races. But he knew that Heavenly Father could help him do his best when he was clean and worthy and faithful.

When I entered the Buenos Aires Argentina Temple with the youth of my ward to do baptisms for the dead, we waited a few minutes in a reception room. Then the temple workers asked us to go down a hall where there were several chairs and to wait again.
Because it was a Saturday, many people had come to the temple from all over Argentina. We waited there for two and a half hours, just sitting quietly. Some not very pleasant thoughts began to run through my mind: “How can they make us wait all this time? I’m tired, and apparently it would have been better if I hadn’t come, because this is a waste of time.”
I got up and started walking down the hall. Soon one of the workers came out and said: “Young people, please don’t be impatient. I understand that you have been waiting for a long time, but do you know something? In the spirit world millions of people have been waiting for this moment for centuries, and I can assure you that they are very anxious for their turn to come. The brethren are baptizing and confirming, and they cannot do more than they are doing.”
When he said these words, I felt embarrassed. I realized that I was being selfish because I didn’t want to give hours for those people who had waited such long years and who did not have the opportunity I had to hear about the true Church and be baptized on earth.
The worker came out again, and he began to call names from our ward. A sister gave us white clothing that more or less fit. After we got dressed, she pulled back our hair and tied it with a white tie.
Then, barefoot, we walked to the benches in the baptistry. The carpets were so soft and high it was as if we weren’t even walking on the ground.
When it was my turn, I was as nervous as if it were the day of my own baptism. But the workers were so nice and they had such patience with each of us that it felt incredible.
When I came out of the font, a sister was waiting for me with a big white towel and a huge smile. I changed my clothes and went into a room where I was confirmed. The same sister who had given me the towel went with me and thanked me for being willing to do the Lord’s work.
When I left the temple, I realized it had been one of the best experiences of my life. The temple is a holy place and the Lord’s Spirit is there, directing His great work. It is worth any wait.

The New Era has been a tremendous help to us missionaries. Recently our six-elder district got together with a stack of old New Eras and cut out all the pictures and photographs that depict the youth of the Church throughout the world engaging in fun, clean, activities. Our labors have resulted in a very useful and colorful display that introduces to the world the programs outlined by our Father in heaven for strengthening the youth of Zion. The New Era is a missionary in and of itself.

We are wise to follow, therefore, the example of Lorenzo Snow rather than that of Thomas B. Marsh. Marsh let himself become so preoccupied with the imperfections in the Prophet Joseph Smith that he found himself disaffected and out of the Church for a season. Lorenzo Snow said he had observed some imperfections in the Prophet Joseph Smith, but his reaction was that it was marvelous to see how the Lord could still use Joseph. Seeing this, Lorenzo Snow—later President Snow—concluded that there might even be some hope for him!

One of the great messages that flows from the Lord’s use of Joseph Smith as a “choice seer” in the latter days is that there is indeed hope for each of us! The Lord can call us in our weaknesses and yet magnify us for his purposes.

I have a great friend, Brother Les Goates, a great and gifted writer, and I asked him if I could lift a part of a story. He told how welfare first came into his home:
“But ‘as for me and my house,’ the welfare program began in the Old Field west of Lehi on the Saratoga Road in the autumn of 1918, that terribly climactic year of World War I during which more than 14 million people died of that awful scourge ‘the black plague,’ or Spanish influenza.
“Winter came early that year and froze much of the sugar beet crop in the ground. My dad and brother Francis were desperately trying to get out of the frosty ground one load of beets each day which they would plow out of the ground, cut off the tops, and toss the beets, one at a time, into the huge red beet wagon and then haul the load off to the sugar factory. It was slow and tedious work due to the frost and the lack of farm help, since my brother Floyd and I were in the army and Francis, or Franz, as everybody called him, was too young for the military service.
“While they were thusly engaged in harvesting the family’s only cash crop and were having their evening meal one day, a phone call came through from our eldest brother, George Albert, superintendent of the State Industrial School in Ogden, bearing the tragic news that Kenneth, nine-year-old son of our brother Charles, the school farm manager, had been stricken with the dread ‘flu,’ and after only a few hours of violent sickness, had died on his father’s lap; and would dad please come to Ogden and bring the boy home and lay him away in the family plot in the Lehi Cemetery.
“My father cranked up his old flap-curtained Chevrolet and headed for Five Points in Ogden to bring his little grandson home for burial. When he arrived at the home he found ‘Charl’ sprawled across the cold form of his dear one, the ugly brown discharge of the black plague oozing from his ears and nose and virtually burning up with fever.
“‘Take my boy home,’ muttered the stricken young father, ‘and lay him away in the family lot and come back for me tomorrow.’
“Father brought Kenneth home, made a coffin in his carpenter shop, and mother and our sisters, Jennie, Emma, and Hazel, placed a cushion and a lining in it, and then dad went with Franz and two kind neighbors to dig the grave. So many were dying the families had to do the grave digging. A brief graveside service was all that was permitted.
“The folks had scarcely returned from the cemetery when the telephone rang again and George Albert (Bert) was on the line with another terrifying message: Charl had died and two of his beautiful little girls—Vesta, 7, and Elaine, 5—were critically ill, and two babies—Raeldon, 4, and Pauline, 3—had been stricken.
“Our good cousins, the Larkin undertaking people, were able to get a casket for Charl and they sent him home in a railroad baggage car. Father and young Franz brought the body from the railroad station and placed it on the front porch of our old country home for an impromptu neighborhood viewing but folks were afraid to come near the body of a black plague victim. Father and Francis meanwhile had gone with neighbors to get the grave ready and arrange a short service in which the great, noble spirit of Charles Hyrum Goates was commended into the keeping of his Maker.
“Next day my sturdy, unconquerable old dad was called on still another of his grim missions—this time to bring home Vesta, the smiling one with the raven hair and big blue eyes.
“When he arrived at the home he found Juliett, the grief-crazed mother, kneeling at the crib of darling little Elaine, the blue-eyed baby angel with the golden curls. Juliett was sobbing wearily and praying: ‘Oh, Father in heaven, not this one, please! Let me keep my baby! Do not take any more of my darlings from me!’
“Before father arrived home with Vesta the dread word had come again. Elaine had gone to join her daddy, brother Kenneth, and Sister Vesta. And so it was that father made another heartbreaking journey to bring home and lay away a fourth member of his family, all within the week.
“The telephone did not ring the evening of the day they laid away Elaine nor were there any more sad tidings of death the next morning. It was assumed that George A. and his courageous companion Della, although afflicted, had been able to save the little ones Raeldon and Pauline; and it was such a relief that Cousin Reba Munns, a nurse, had been able to come in and help.
“After breakfast dad said to Franz, ‘Well, son, we had better get down to the field and see if we can get another load of beets out of the ground before they get frozen in any tighter. Hitch up and let’s be on our way.’
“Francis drove the four-horse outfit down the driveway and dad climbed aboard. As they drove along the Saratoga Road, they passed wagon after wagon-load of beets being hauled to the factory and driven by neighborhood farmers. As they passed by, each driver would wave a greeting: ‘Hi ya, Uncle George,’ ‘Sure sorry, George,’ ‘Tough break, George,’ ‘You’ve got a lot of friends, George.’
“On the last wagon was the town comedian, freckled-faced Jasper Rolfe. He waved a cheery greeting and called out: ‘That’s all of ‘em, Uncle George.’
“My dad turned to Francis and said: ‘I wish it was all of ours.’
“When they arrived at the farm gate, Francis jumped down off the big red beet wagon and opened the gate as we drove onto the field. He pulled up, stopped the team, paused a moment and scanned the field, from left to right and back and forth—and lo and behold, there wasn’t a sugar beet on the whole field. Then it dawned upon him what Jasper Rolfe meant when he called out: ‘That’s all of ‘em, Uncle George!’
“Then dad got down off the wagon, picked up a handful of the rich, brown soil he loved so much, and then in his thumbless left hand a beet top, and he looked for a moment at these symbols of his labor, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Then father sat down on a pile of beet tops—this man who brought four of his loved ones home for burial in the course of only six days; made caskets, dug graves, and even helped with the burial clothing—this amazing man who never faltered, nor flinched, nor wavered throughout this agonizing ordeal—sat down on a pile of beet tops and sobbed like a little child.
“Then he arose, wiped his eyes with his big, red bandanna handkerchief, looked up at the sky, and said: ‘Thanks, Father, for the elders of our ward.’”

President Grant’s boundless faith that the Lord would prosper those who were liberal with their means in building his kingdom has had a distinct effect upon my life. Many years ago I heard him tell about attending a fast meeting at which his bishop made an appeal for donations. President Grant, though a very young man, had fifty dollars in his pocket which he intended to deposit in the bank. But he was so impressed by the bishop’s appeal that he tendered the whole fifty dollars. The bishop took five dollars and handed him back the forty-five, stating that five dollars was his full share. President Grant replied, “Bishop Woolley, by what right do you rob me of putting the Lord in my debt? Didn’t you preach here today that the Lord rewards fourfold? My mother is a widow and she needs two hundred dollars.”

“My boy,” queried the bishop, “do you believe that if I take this other forty-five dollars you will get your two hundred dollars quicker?”

“Certainly,” replied President Grant.

Here was a demonstration of faith which the bishop could not withstand. He took the remaining forty-five dollars.

President Grant testified that on his way from that fast meeting back to work, “an idea popped into” his head, acting upon which he made $218.50. Speaking about this incident years later, he said, “Someone will say that it would have happened anyway.

“I do not think it would have happened. I do not think I would have got the idea, …” he said.

“I am a firm believer that the Lord opens up the windows of heaven when we do our duty financially and pours out blessings upon us of a spiritual nature, which are of far greater value than temporal things. But I believe He also gives us blessings of a temporal nature.” (Improvement Era, Aug. 1939, p. 457.)

As we avoid sin and choose the right, we honor those who have come before us. When I was a young boy I heard a story about President George Albert Smith. He once dreamed he had passed away and was in the spirit world walking through a forest. Suddenly, he saw his grandfather coming toward him. He was so happy to see him! His grandfather stopped him and said, “I would like to know what you have done with my name.” President George Albert Smith, who had been named after his grandfather, paused to think about all the events of his life. Then he answered, “I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.”*