Gospel Story Finder

After graduation Franklin received an appointment to the U.S. Naval Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. He wondered if he accepted the appointment if he would ever serve a full-time mission. It was a difficult decision to make. Elder Richards said, “I think unknowingly I was following the advice of the Lord to Oliver Cowdery:

“‘Behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right’ (D&C 9:8).

“In effect, I was doing that. I thought about a mission and about my grandfather, and I wondered, Do I want to go to Annapolis or don’t I? So I studied it out, talked to several people, and reached the decision that I would prefer to go on a mission. I made it a matter of prayer, expressing my feelings to the Lord, and the Holy Ghost bore witness to me that my decision was right.”

After recovering from serious health challenges, Elder Robert D. Hales shared the following in general conference: “On a few occasions, I told the Lord that I had surely learned the lessons to be taught and that it wouldn’t be necessary for me to endure any more suffering. Such entreaties seemed to be of no avail, for it was made clear to me that this purifying process of testing was to be endured in the Lord’s time and in the Lord’s own way. … I … learned that I would not be left alone to meet these trials and tribulations but that guardian angels would attend me. There were some that were near angels in the form of doctors, nurses, and most of all my sweet companion, Mary. And on occasion, when the Lord so desired, I was to be comforted with visitations of heavenly hosts that brought comfort and eternal reassurances in my time of need.”

I especially remember the time my brother and I were returning from school after a severe tropical storm. The trail that we usually followed had been covered by a mud slide. On a nearby steep hillside, high above the rocky ground, was a drainage pipe. If we were to get to our village, we would need to walk along that pipe.
The pipe was suspended over a stream, which, although normally small, had turned into a rushing torrent of mud and water. Carrying our school bags, we went up the hill and began cautiously treading along the narrow, slippery pipe. As I approached the other side, I looked back to see how my brother was doing.
He had stopped halfway. Being older and wiser, he had realized what a precarious perch we were on and had frozen in his tracks. It was a terrifying moment for us as we realized the danger he was in.
Then I heard the loudest scream for help I have ever heard. My brother’s bellow echoed through the hills and valleys. Luckily Aunt Gu Ma was working in the fields below and heard us. She came quickly to his rescue, lovingly guided him along, and led us both home to safety.

Ouch! Have you ever been caught by a jumping cactus? Cholla cactus segments “jump” off to stick to your clothes, skin, or whatever else they can get their spiny claws into.
The LDS youth of New Mexico know how difficult it is to detach themselves from a prickly cactus. They got some extra practice though, as they cleaned the temple site in preparation for the Albuquerque Temple groundbreaking. Armed with shovels, rakes, and gloves, youth from four stakes assembled on a hot Saturday morning to rid the property of sagebrush, garbage, and cholla, so the weeds could be mowed and the ground would be safe to walk on for those attending the groundbreaking.
“It was hard work, but it was totally worth it for the temple to come,” says Robyn Sampson, 15.
Before the temple plans were approved, the youth fasted and prayed for a solution to the problems the temple’s project manager faced when he presented the plans to city officials. Now they say they are fasting and praying for the temple builders. But the prayers and the cleanup are only part of the work the young people of Albuquerque are doing in preparation for the temple. They are also working to make certain their own lives are clean.
Despite the burrs on their socks and an occasional scare from a snake or lizard, the Albuquerque youth succeeded in clearing the future temple site of every spiny cactus and broken bottle in sight. It might seem strange, but the youth actually enjoyed pulling cactuses and loading trucks full of sagebrush.
“We’re just so happy we will have a temple here. We thought it would never happen,” says Rosalie Campbell, 12.
Amber Chee, 17, looks forward to doing baptisms for the dead and getting married in the Albuquerque Temple someday. “It was really fun coming here. I felt the Spirit,” she says.
Both Rosalie and Amber have been to the temple to do baptisms for the dead before, but opportunities for trips to out-of-state temples come only once a year for the Albuquerque youth. They have to travel for at least eight hours to get to a temple in Denver, Colorado, or Mesa, Arizona, so they can do baptisms for the dead.
“Temples were always a faraway thing,” says Neil Peterson. As 16-year-old Neil wipes his brow, he says he enjoys helping out with something so important, even if it’s hard work.
Michelle Williams, besides concentrating on the cactus plants, was also thinking about what it will mean to have a temple in her area and about why she was cleaning up the temple site. “It’s very symbolic,” she says. “You have to be clean yourself to go to the temple.”
Logan King just turned in his mission papers and is waiting for his call. He won’t be able to go to the Albuquerque Temple before his mission, but he realizes the importance of having a temple close by and being worthy to attend it. “We need to clean all the cactuses out of our lives before we can go to the temple,” he says.
Researching family history is another way the Albuquerque youth are preparing for the temple. Many of them are more excited about doing family history now since they will soon have a temple in their area. Albuquerque’s Family History Center missionaries, Sister Wilcox and Sister Hatfield, say the temple will really strengthen the youth. Sister Wilcox says with the large number of young people in the area, there’s a “big push for genealogy.”
Sarah Sego, 17, loves doing baptisms for the dead and can’t wait for the temple to be built so she can continue to do baptisms. “I know it’s the right thing to do, because all those people are waiting,” she says.
Sarah is also helping others to learn more about why she loves going to the temple so much. She tells her friends about the temple and even tactfully shared her testimony of temple work with her high school current events class.
Sarah is not alone in her missionary efforts. Many Church members are having more and more opportunities to explain the gospel to others because of the temple.
“I think the temple will make people notice us more,” says Lisa Willis, 14, who also says she’s been telling her friends all about the temple. “The best part [of building a temple] is having people ask about it.”
Albuquerque’s full-time missionaries were also at the cleanup working hard. They say members in the area feel the temple will bring many blessings to them and to all the people of Albuquerque.
“While tracting, we stopped by a house and a woman opened the door and said, ‘Hey, I heard you guys are building one of those temples.’ That allowed us to get in the door and talk to her about the Church,” says Elder Moyer, from California. Many of the missionaries had similar stories.
The temple will actually be built in a valley where it can still be seen from faraway. In fact, it’s the same valley the Mormon Battalion came through on its famous march from the Missouri River to California. Coincidentally, the number of youth at the cleanup was about the same as the number of men who were in the Mormon Battalion.
At the groundbreaking ceremony, many young people who had been at the cleanup also sang in the youth chorus. The strains of “High on the Mountain Top” and “Holy Temples on Mount Zion” rang out over the crowd of thousands which gathered to see the temple ground dedicated.
“We all joined together to celebrate our temple,” says Tyler Lindsey, 16. “I knew that it was right and the ground was holy. I don’t know if we sounded good, but the Spirit was there.”
The Spirit is there. The spirit of service, of missionary work, and of love can be felt strongly in Albuquerque. Whether pulling cactuses or doing baptisms for the dead, the youth of Albuquerque are carrying out the Lord’s work with His Spirit to help them. The youth don’t know all the ways the temple will continue to change their lives, but they are looking forward to that day in the year 2000 when they can visit the Lord’s house in their own city.

I remember the first time Jenni walked into my seminary class and said hi to me. She had a very difficult time speaking, her words were slurred and hard to understand, and she limped and hobbled as she tried to make her legs carry her frail body toward her desk. During Jenni’s first week of “mainstreaming” in my class, she seemed content to be mostly ignored by her classmates, who appeared to be struggling to figure out how to interact with her.
Jenni would try to speak, and very few students could understand her. She had a difficult time keeping her nose wiped, and sometimes she would drool and soil her shirt. The students in my classroom were unaccustomed to the needs and actions of someone like Jenni, so most of them distanced themselves from her both physically and socially and, as a result, proceeded to politely ignore her.
However, they weren’t aware that inside Jenni’s deformed body was a keen mind, a heart of gold, and an indomitable spirit crying out to be heard, to be understood, to be accepted, and to be loved. She wouldn’t be ignored, politely or otherwise.
I’ll never forget the day when Jenni asked me if she could say something to the class. I wondered what she wanted to say to everyone, but I never expected her to deliver the message she did.
“I neeeeed a frrriennnd,” she stuttered. “I neeeeeeeed sommeonne toooo ssiitt bbyy mmee attt lllunnch.”
As she finished her last word, a hush settled over the class. Jenni stood erect and, rather than doing the socially acceptable thing and taking her seat, she waited for a volunteer. Finally, from the back of the classroom, Treasure raised her hand and said, “I’ll be your friend, Jenni.” Jenni responded by asking, “And sit by me at lunch?”
Treasure responded, “And sit by you at lunch.”
“Every day?” asked Jenni.
“Every day,” answered Treasure.
This conversation relieved the class but also gave Treasure’s friend Wendy the confidence to raise her hand and tell Jenni that she would also be her friend and sit by her at lunch every day. The “miracle of Jenni” had begun!
The next day Treasure and Wendy sat by Jenni at lunch and then helped her through the school parking lot to the seminary building. I noticed as the days turned into weeks that Treasure and Wendy began to translate Jenni’s words when we couldn’t understand her.
As the students began to see what a beautiful, intelligent person Jenni was, they began to invite her to activities, to pick her up, to help her with her difficulties. On one occasion, Jenni excitedly told me she had a date with a young man named Kurt. “He’s so cute!” she told me. This led to other dates, more recognition, and more fun.
Often during class when someone would be sharing their feelings and begin to weep, Jenni would, unannounced, get up and walk over to this person and put her arm around them and hold them. This would touch the class, and soon we would all be weeping. Jenni would often bear her testimony to the class. She would express her gratitude for her many blessings, especially her family, and then share her firm conviction of Jesus Christ.
The months turned into years, and soon it was time for Jenni to graduate from seminary. I remember the love I felt for her as she awkwardly walked up to receive her diploma, and I realized all over again how she had blessed my life. As the ceremony and the meeting ended, I encountered Jenni’s mother at the back of the chapel. As we talked, her eyes watered as she said something like this: “You’ll never know what you’ve done for my little girl.”
I replied, “Oh, not me. Look around,” as I pointed to Jenni’s classmates. “They’re the ones.”
Jenni’s classmates helped her realize what a wonderful person she is. They’re the ones who included her in their circle of friends and helped her feel like she belonged; they’re the ones who saw through her handicap to the special needs of her heart—a young woman wanting to be accepted and understood; they’re the ones who came to see into the beauty of her soul; the ones who helped perform a modern-day miracle—the miracle of Jenni.

Jesse Austin of Lyons, Colorado, made a great friend in Brandon Harris of Ogden, Utah, at the wheelchair sports camp they both attended in Denver.
Brandon set five records at that meet in swimming and track and won many medals. Jesse won ten medals and set a record in the discus throw.
Both boys are paraplegic, but that doesn’t slow them down. Jesse pushed himself 50 miles in five days on the Oregon Trail to earn his 50-mile patch and his Historic Trails Award. He also goes to the temple with the youth from his ward to do baptisms for the dead.

My seminary teacher began my very first seminary class by passing out small booklets to all the students. I was ready to really dig into the gospel at seminary, so I was excited to find out what wisdom these little books held. When I received my book and flipped through it, however, I realized it was full of blank pages.
My teacher explained that these blank books were for us to record our own spiritual impressions. He then shared a quote from Elder Richard G. Scott (1928–2015) of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles:
“Write down in a secure place the important things you learn from the Spirit. You will find that as you write down precious impressions, often more will come. Also, the knowledge you gain will be available throughout your life.”1
My teacher bore testimony of Elder Scott’s words and encouraged us to write down insights we received as we studied the scriptures that year.
I was touched by Elder Scott’s promise that the Lord will give us more direction when we write down what we receive, and I wanted to show Heavenly Father that I valued His guidance. The only problem was that I wasn’t sure I even knew how to receive personal revelation. I couldn’t think of anything I should write down. There was no way I could ever fill up my book with insights!
But Elder Scott’s words stuck with me throughout the day, and by the next morning I had decided that I would trust the counsel of a living prophet and try to write down impressions.
Within a couple of weeks my daily scripture study changed. Before, I would read a few verses every day just to be able to check “read my scriptures” off my to-do list. Now I was looking for answers. I was looking for something that the Lord wanted me to write down.
Soon I found out that Elder Scott’s promises were true. I started to recognize the Spirit’s voice as I studied, first helping me feel God’s love, then testifying of truth as I read, and finally giving specific direction for my life. Not only did I have things to write in my study journal, but also—and much more importantly—I was learning how to recognize personal revelation.
Blessings continue to come. The act of writing things down helps me remember them later more easily, and I also now have a record to reference if I can’t quite remember the details of a lesson I learned. When I’m discouraged or struggling with a gospel question, I go back and read about specific experiences where I received undeniable confirmation of the basic truths of the gospel. These experiences are the backbone of my testimony, and my study journal is a way to always keep them fresh in my mind.
I will always be grateful that I decided to take an Apostle’s advice and write things down, even though at first I thought I had nothing to write. Keeping a study journal has shown me how to recognize when God speaks to me.

Spring has returned to the community of Franklin, Idaho. One can hear the ever-welcome chirp of the robin and see the beauty of the first daffodil. Seemingly overnight, the drab brown grass of winter turns to a bright green. Soon plows will turn the earth, seeds will be planted, and a new cycle of life will commence. Some distance away from the bustle of activity and next to the foothills is the town cemetery.
It was there one spring that a new grave was dug—not a large one—and a tiny casket was lowered into mother earth. Three lines appear on the attractive headstone:
MICHAEL PAUL SHUMWAY
Born: October 24, 1965
Died: March 14, 1966
May I introduce you to the Shumway family. They are my neighbors here in Salt Lake City, Utah. Mark and Wilma Shumway and each of the children always greet you with a friendly smile or a wave of the hand. They make the people of the neighborhood happy. They are good people.
Can you imagine the happiness in the family home on that 24th day of October when little Michael was born? Father was proud, brothers and sisters were excited, mother was humble, as they welcomed this sweet new blossom of humanity, fresh fallen from God’s own home, to grow on earth. Happy months followed.
Then came that fateful night in March when little Michael was called to his heavenly home and the breath of life was gone. Mark and Wilma were overcome with grief from the loss of their precious son. But while their grief was intensely personal, their experience in losing a loved one in death is common to all mankind, for who hasn’t lost a mother, a father, a sister, a brother, a son, or a daughter?
To you, Wilma and Mark Shumway, and to all who have lost a dear one, he provides the courage to say, “… the Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” (Job 1:21.) May your hearts burn with the knowledge that the bands of death have been broken and that members of your family, though now separated by death, will one day be reunited to share the blessings of eternal life.

I was playing the piano after Church when my five-year-old cousin walked up beside me and asked, “What are you playing?” I replied, “The piano.” He said, “No. What song?” I told him it was “A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief.” Seeing that the title didn’t really mean anything to him, I tried to clarify by saying, “It’s a hymn.” I finished playing the song and turned to a different one, to which he asked, “Is this one a her?”
—Natausha B., Texas

I have always loved to teach little children, so I chose to become a teacher. Elder Henderson encouraged me to become a special teacher, and I received a bachelors and a masters degree in Speech and Language Pathology. I learned and practiced how to help a child who cannot make correct sounds or communicate.
Shortly after my graduation, some parents came to me with their four-year old son Robert. No one could understand him. He would open his mouth to talk and only confusing sounds came out. His friends laughed at him. His parents did not know what he wanted. “Mrs. Henderson, can you help our little boy? Will he ever be able to talk and be normal?” I knew that if I showed him correct ways to make sounds, one at a time, and that if he would faithfully and carefully practice what I taught him, he would learn to speak correctly over time.
To start, he could not say the “T” sound, so with a mirror and a drawing on paper, I showed him where to put his tongue, and we did it together. It was very hard for him, and he became tired and frustrated easily. I gave him some practice homework. I took out a piece of paper that said, “I promise that I will practice three times a day for twenty minutes with my parents.” I then asked him to sign it. At first, he did not want to promise. This would mean he could not watch some TV or play computer games. He would lose some freedom. With some encouragement, he signed the promise. Robert visited me week after week. Sometimes, Robert did not do his homework correctly, but I would forgive him if he would try again, and we kept going. I would show the way. He would sign a promise to follow my way, and in many months, a miracle had happened. Robert was healed, and others could understand him.

What about being kind when others are mean or we don’t feel they deserve kindness? That’s where the test gets hard, doesn’t it? The answer is, of course, that we try to show charity for all. Lucy Mack Smith shared the following story about her son:
A large group of men approached stating they had come to “kill Joe Smith and all the Mormons.” Joseph smiled, and shook their hands. He sat down with them and explained to them many of the difficulties the Saints had suffered and their claim against the injustices that had been heaped upon them. After talking to them for some time he turned and said, “I believe I will go home now—Emma will be expecting me.” At this, two of the officers who had come to kill him suggested that he should not go home alone and insisted that they would provide an escort to ensure his safety As they left, Joseph’s mother heard one say, “Did you not feel strangely when Smith took you by the hand?” Another said, “I could not move. I would not harm a hair of that man’s head for the whole world.”

Once I had my family history computer disk in my hands, I realized that the most important part of the work was still missing. I needed to go to the temple and provide my family beyond the veil with the ordinances that would enable them to be saved and join my family’s generations for eternity.
I was able to go to the temple when I went on my mission to Cochabamba, Bolivia. I began preaching the gospel in October 2000. A few months later my companion and I visited the temple with the youth from the ward where we were serving. I took my disk and was able to provide 599 names for ordinance work.
While I served as witness, my companion baptized the young people on behalf of my ancestors. What great joy I felt. The Spirit was with me, testifying of the truthfulness of what we were doing. I could feel my ancestors’ happiness and gratitude.
But there were other ordinances that still needed to be done. Because there were so many names, I turned them over to the temple. But I kept the names of my great-grandparents and their children, and later that month my companion and I, with the help of other missionaries, performed the work for them.
I am grateful to my Heavenly Father because, although I was far from my country and perhaps thought that I would baptize only the living, I was also able to participate in the work of redeeming the dead.

During my childhood, my family and I lived in a two-story building with six apartments, and every year all six families would join together to celebrate Christmas. As a young man, that was one of my favourite times of the year.
A pine tree was placed in the centre of the yard and along with my brothers and friends, we would help decorate both the tree and the yard. After the adults had finished preparing the lights, they were painted in different colours and then used to decorate the tree.
One of the most beautiful moments was when we turned the lights on. The colour combination made the place even more cheerful, especially when the lights reflected the nativity scene.
I still vividly remember those moments and the joy that we felt year after year helping prepare for this glorious celebration. This Christmas Eve I want to invite you to ponder on the question what is Christmas to you?

The handsome American youth had only been in Czechoslovakia for a few weeks. With absolutely no language training he had come to preach the gospel to the Czech people in their own tongue. Now the time had arrived to preach his first sermon to a group of Saints and interested investigators. His experienced companion had labored diligently to help him write his speech and had also provided a phonetic guide to aid in the pronunciation of this very difficult language. Now he must face the congregation alone.

When the young man began to speak the senior companion suffered in silence as his youthful counterpart proceeded to violate every grammatical rule in the entire Czech language. However, all was not lost, because his pronunciation was so atrocious that few in the audience could tell what he was saying anyway.

After the meeting, the young elder felt somewhat embarrassed and disappointed until a matronly investigator approached him. With tear-stained cheeks and trembling voice she told him (through an interpreter), "I felt that everything you said was true—I’d like to be baptized." The promise in the Book of Mormon is that "when a man speaketh by the power of the Holy Ghost the power of the Holy Ghost carrieth it unto the hearts of the children of men" (2 Ne. 33:1).

Mason liked pretending to be a detective. With his notebook and pencil, he wrote down fascinating facts. He inspected interesting evidence with his magnifying glass. The flashlight tucked in his belt lit up dark places, revealing hidden clues. The only thing he needed for his detective kit was a mirror for peeking around corners and peering into tiny cracks.
“Mom, do you have a mirror I can use for my detective kit?” he asked.
“Yes, I have a small one you can borrow,” Mom said. “Please be careful with it.”
“I will,” Mason promised.
The mirror fit perfectly into his pocket. With his kit complete, Mason was ready to play detective. But when he bent down to get a closer look at a possible clue, the mirror slipped out of his pocket. Mason heard a crunch when he knelt on the floor.
“Oh no!” he groaned when he saw Mom’s broken mirror on the floor. Mason felt awful. It was an accident, but he had promised to be careful. Mason wasn’t sure he was brave enough to tell Mom he broke her mirror.
Mason had been taught in family home evening and Primary that he should always tell the truth. But right now that did not seem easy. He didn’t feel like playing anymore. He worried about what to do. Finally, he slipped the broken mirror back into Mom’s drawer.
At dinner, Mason didn’t feel like eating. When he went to bed, he was still worried about the mirror.
The next morning, Mom called to Mason. “What happened to the mirror?” she asked, holding the pieces in her hand.
“I don’t know,” Mason said. “I put it back when I was finished playing.”
As soon as he said it, Mason felt awful. All afternoon he felt worse and worse. Telling the lie felt even worse than keeping the secret. Mason decided there was only one way he could feel better. Mason went to find Mom.
“I know what happened!” he blurted out.
“I knew you could solve the mystery of the broken mirror,” Mom said.
“It’s not a mystery,” Mason said. “I broke it. It fell out of my pocket when I was looking at clues. I’m sorry.”
“I’m glad you told me,” Mom said. “I think you know it is always best to tell the truth.”
Mason nodded yes. He was starting to feel better. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that telling the truth was always the right thing to do.

Spencer W. Kimball was baptized in Arizona on March 28, 1903, in the tub used to clean off the bristles and dirt from slaughtered hogs. The tub was also used as the family’s bathtub. It was large enough for only one person, so his father stood outside the tub, which some people felt was not a correct way to baptize. To be sure that Spencer was properly baptized, he was baptized again, when he was twelve years old, in the Union Canal.

One time a young missionary who had recently arrived at Bogotá to serve in our mission said to me in an initial interview: “Well, President, I guess you’ve heard all about me and about all the trouble I was before receiving my mission call and all the problems I had at the MTC.”
I said to him: “No, Elder, I haven’t heard a thing and, frankly, unless it concerns a serious moral transgression, I don’t want to know. The only thing that matters to me, and I believe that the only thing that matters to the Lord, is what you do from now on. I know that you have been called by God to serve in this mission and that you can be a powerful and effective advocate for the Savior. You have a real opportunity right here and right now to go out and show the Lord and others who you really are and what you can do.” I think the missionary was a little surprised at my response, and it effectively terminated our interview.
That young man worked with enthusiasm and energy in some of the areas of our mission that might be considered tough. He taught, he converted, he baptized. He became a district leader and a zone leader. He left our mission with my greatest respect for the work he had done and for the man he had become.

Everyone likes to feel the support of friends and loved ones, and bishops are no exception. When Bishop Robert Stevens of the Mountain View 11th Ward, West Jordan Utah Mountain View Stake, faced his first Sunday at church sporting a new “hairdo”—he had lost his hair because of chemotherapy he is undergoing—the deacons and teachers decided to show their support in an unusual way.
“We shaved our heads so that my dad wouldn’t feel out of place,” says Jonathan Stevens, the bishop’s 13-year-old son. “We wanted it to be a surprise, so we all had to hide from him until Sunday at church. I could tell it made him feel really good, and we all felt great too.”
The bishop is expecting a full recovery.

Brigham Young was in Peterborough, New Hampshire, when he received news that the Prophet Joseph Smith had been killed. He immediately left New England and returned to Nauvoo. Within two years, he would start leading groups of Mormon pioneers to the West.
Not far from Peterborough—in an area that today is in the Nashua New Hampshire Stake—Latter-day Saint youth had their own pioneer trek in 2009. But the journey began long before anyone started pulling a handcart.
To gain spiritual strength, many of the pioneers sought temple blessings before leaving Nauvoo. Like those early Saints, members of the Nashua stake took the opportunity to participate in temple work and other activities that would strengthen them. They focused on preparing for two journeys: the 17-mile handcart trek they were about to make and the spiritual journey they would undertake.
They did this through the “Trail of Faith Award,” which stake leaders invited all members of the stake—not just the youth—to participate in. Many of the goals of the program, which began in January, overlapped with requirements from Duty to God, Personal Progress, and the Brand New Year fireside. Other challenges were specific to the stake. All of them helped participants draw closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ.
“Trail of Faith helped me realize that we weren’t just going on a 17-mile hike or having another youth conference,” says Alexander Petrie, 16. “This was something a little bit different.”
One of the things that made it different for Alexander was memorizing several hymns, including “Press Forward, Saints” (Hymns, no. 81). “Later, when I was on trek and it was getting a little bit tough, the words of that hymn kept going over and over in my mind,” he says. “I really felt strength from its words. I’ve realized that hymns are a good thing to memorize and to have in our mind anytime we encounter something difficult. I’m so grateful that the Trail of Faith Award helped me prepare.”
Alden Durham, 12, was not yet old enough to participate in the trek, but, along with his family, he completed the Trail of Faith Award. Two of his most memorable goals involved daily scripture study and journal writing. “When I do these things, I feel the Spirit more, and I definitely act different when I feel the Spirit. I try to be a better brother to my four sisters.”
Alexander Jeffrey, also 12, said his favorite goal was performing baptisms for the dead at the Boston Temple, something he had done only once before. “Doing the Trail of Faith gave me a new understanding and got me better prepared for doing some of these goals and habits on my own,” he says.
Participating in temple work was meaningful for Julia Parker, 16, as well. “It was really neat to take names of people who were related to us—our own ancestors,” she recalls. “When I went to the temple, I thought about them as individual people with individual lives and individual interests. I thought about their testimonies and their experiences and their trials. It was really cool to feel connected with them.”
Upon completing the Trail of Faith Award requirements, stake members were given a small medallion so they could remember things they had experienced and felt. “I came out with a medallion at the end,” says Emily Durham, 17, “but I also came out with a stronger testimony.”
After months of preparation through the Trail of Faith Award, firesides, and other stake-wide activities, the group was ready to embark on its three-day, two-night, 17-mile journey.
The area they live in is rich in American history, so in many ways, the trek experience wasn’t much different from things that youth in the Nashua Stake participate in regularly at school. After all, Emily points out, “Those of us who grew up here have gone on walks at Walden Pond and taken field trips to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery,” she says. But remembering pioneer heritage at youth conference was somehow different.
Elizabeth Jeffrey, 15, agrees. “You dress up, pull handcarts, and have a fun, spiritual experience with your friends,” she says. “I expected that. What I didn’t realize was how hard it would be—the actual, physical pulling over hills and rocks and things.
“We were only walking 17 miles; the pioneers walked over a thousand miles to Utah,” she continues. “I think about them differently now. Instead of a Sunday School story on a page, I believe I can now feel a little bit of their struggles and their pains and their great joy. It all became more real when I went on trek.”
As the youth and their leaders completed the trek, other stake members gathered at a local park for a “Welcome to the Valley” celebration. McKenna Gustafson, 14, remembers feeling “so happy” when she was greeted by the cheering of more than 900 people.
“I saw my younger brothers and sisters running toward us, and I started crying,” she remembers. “I thought about what it will be like in heaven when we see our family and friends who have gone before us and what an awesome reunion that will be.”
As exciting as “Welcome to the Valley” was, it wasn’t the end of the trek experience—not really. In many ways, the trek started friendships with neighbors and community members who had watched the youth over the last 72 hours or heard about the trek through local news coverage.
Anna Parker had an opportunity to connect with neighbors as she and her peers passed through one community. Anna immediately noticed that some of the women there were on horseback, so she told them how much she loved horses. She also explained to them what the youth group was doing and then invited the women to join the youth that night for country dancing. One of them came and even stayed for a short devotional afterward. She was so impressed by the youth that she asked to learn more.
Other youth shared the gospel by telling their friends how they were spending three days of their summer vacation. Others got to know people in the community who had made the trek possible. Youth and adults became friends with kind community members who agreed to let the 150 youth and adults camp on their private property; one of the couples who did so came to a testimony meeting, shared their own feelings, and invited the youth to return.
“In planning trek, we wanted the youth of the stake to recognize that they can do hard things,” says President Mark Durham of the stake presidency. “Trail of Faith and trek were both part of that.
“What the pioneers did is just unbelievable, but they took it a little bit at a time, and they had their testimony and their faith as a foundation. We can also move one foot in front of the other foot, just like they did.”
James Parker, 18, says that his experiences last summer have helped him to be more diligent in living the gospel and to have a better attitude about the things he is asked to do as a Church member today.
“The pioneers had to get up every day and make a conscious decision to pull their handcarts miles and miles. Trek was a good reminder of the sacrifices they made for the gospel,” he says.
“We’re not asked to do anything as dramatic as that, but I can get up every day and consciously decide to pray and read my scriptures and be reminded of what the gospel is worth to me. Because of trek, I know how much the gospel of Jesus Christ was worth to the pioneers, and their sacrifice makes it more valuable to me.”

During the last week of school, Shawn had appendicitis and had to have an operation. He missed his school’s field day and a field trip while he was in the hospital. Then he had to spend the first three weeks of summer inside recovering. Shawn was disappointed, but he never complained. He was too busy finding other things to do! Among them were reading books and drawing, two of his favorite pastimes. His dad says, “Shawn can find a way to have fun in any circumstance, so if someone had to get sick and miss out, it couldn’t have happened to a better person.” The doctors told him that on July fourth, a month from the day of the surgery, he would be well enough to play outside. He celebrated with a water balloon fight!