Gospel Story Finder

Another faithful missionary was Carl A. Carlquist, born near Vänersborg in 1857. At age 17, he felt a strong desire to preach the gospel and was called to distribute Church tracts around Jönköping. He was poor, so members of his branch, seven widows and their children, obtained a suit coat and boots for him. Carl didn’t own an overcoat when the winter season came, but he was allowed to borrow one a few hours every day from some of the members when they didn’t need theirs.5

Eventually my parents moved our family to Ontario, California, USA. My mother found herself in an unfamiliar country, unable to speak the language and in culture shock. Like a hen that gathers her chicks under her wings, she would gather all of us children and fall to her knees, pleading to Heavenly Father that none of the children He had given her would fall away from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. My parents used family prayer, daily scripture reading, regular family fasts, weekly family home evening, and Church meetings to seek Heavenly Father’s help in fortifying our family.
My parents encouraged us to behave like missionaries early in life. We always wore white shirts to church and had missionary haircuts. As a priest I would bless the sacrament, and my younger brothers would prepare and pass the sacrament as teachers and deacons. I could see my mother and father watching us, making sure we completed our duties faithfully.
Before I left on my mission, my mother said, “Do your part, and I will do mine. I will fast and pray for you to find people to teach.” She continued fasting and praying for all four of her sons during their missions. We all served faithfully and returned home with honor.
During my last visit with her before her death, my mother said, “Peiholani, I have taught you all that I know to be most important in this life and the life to come. That is, the gospel of Jesus Christ is true. The atoning blood of Jesus Christ is salvation to your soul. Honor the covenants you have made with the Lord in the temple. Do this, and our family will be together again. This I know without a doubt because Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ live.”
My testimony was built on the gospel, by every word my mother and father said. I know that our family will be together again someday because my parents fulfilled their mission to teach us the gospel and lead us to the Savior.

I felt strongly to share with you an experience of one of our missionaries of our New York City, New York Mission. It came from Elder Powell as he went to leave the mission and he shared a special experience that he had had. He had noticed wonderful shoe-shining stations in subways, on street corners, and was determined to get his shoes shined sometime when he came to New York City.

Near the end of his mission, while in the Bronx, from around a corner, Elder Powell and his companion heard someone calling, “Shoe shine? Shoe shine? Anyone want your shoe shined?”

Elder Powell’s ears perked up at the sound and he realized he hadn't yet gotten his shoes shined while on his mission in New York. He rounded the corner and came face to face with the peddler offering a shoeshine. The first thought blurted from his mouth as you would expect from any missionary struggling with finances: "How much does it cost?"

"As much as you're willing to pay!" came the reply.

"Done deal!” Elder Powell had once gotten a tie in Harlem for 25 cents. Change rattled in his pocket and he thought, "Okay, I can handle this," so he agreed.

He knew there wouldn't be a red leather chair on a stand for him there like he might expect in Manhattan, but in looking around there wasn't even a chair. That's when he noticed the man had knelt at his feet. He had pulled from his pocket and opened a soiled, black-filled baby food jar, and having dipped his fingers in the oily ooze, he began to work dark polish into Elder Powell's worn missionary shoes.

Elder Powell then noticed how dirty the man was. His ragged shirt was heavily stained as the man on his knees sought to find a single clean spot on his soiled shirt to buff the shoes after the wonderful polish had been applied. The shirt provided what it could to the process of the shoe shine, but it wasn't enough for the humble shiner of shoes. His forearms finished the task of buffing, his skin taking on the dark ink, which sunk in deep, allowing those he served to walk away with shiny shoes.

As Elder Powell watched the selfless work being carried out, he thought of another who descended below us all and took upon Him the stains of mankind, that we in turn could walk away clean and unspotted from the stains of mortality and sin. With such a scene before us, wouldn't we not turn to think of our risen Lord once mocked and beaten, even bleeding from every pore in giving the ultimate and complete sacrifice to pay justice's price for sin and eternal life?

Overwhelmed by the visual reminder of the Savior's humanly unbearable Atonement, his shoe shine completed, Elder Powell's heart had changed, and he willingly paid the debt owed with all that he had. And then he reached into his companion's pockets for all that he had. Not sure his companion had caught the vision yet.

A true story: As a boy working in my father’s drugstore, I was rewarded for work and given a model plane in its box. The name of the plane was the Grumman Hellcat. As I assembled the parts, I looked on the colorful images on the outside of the model box, where it was fighting Japanese Zeros in World War II.

Later in my life, while serving as mission president in Oregon, I visited the Evergreen Aviation and Space Museum and was surprised and excited to see the real Hellcat preserved in just the way it looked in 1942 and flight-ready. All the memories flowed back. Inscribed on the plaque on the adjacent stanchion to the plane was a brief history.

Two things caught my eye: how successful the Hellcat was and the motto of the Grumman Corporation. Prior to this airplane being commissioned, we were doing poorly in aerial dogfights in the Pacific theater. But a tenacious and resourceful aeronautical engineering team at Grumman changed all of that. The Hellcat achieved a 19 to 1 success ratio; for every 19 planes it downed, 1 Hellcat was lost. The key to success was Leo Grumman’s motto: “Keep it simple. Build it strong. Make it work.”

Simple, strong, and fast, it was very successful. These three maxims are there for the taking: Keep it simple, build it strong, and make it work. What can I do to simplify my life? What can I do daily now to strengthen my faith and trust in God? I can do the hard thing.

The headlines in a recent newspaper article seemed to jump off the page: “Lost in Fog, 757 Plunges into Pacific.” With 70 people on board, Aeroperu Flight 603 from Lima, Peru, to Santiago, Chile, had fallen from the dark and foggy sky into the icy Pacific waters off the coast of Peru. What happened? Moments before the crash the pilot of the aircraft was asking the same question: “What’s happening? What altitude am I at? Why is my ground crash alarm on? Am I over land or sea? . . . I don’t have any instruments.” (See Salt Lake Tribune, 3 October 1996, A1, A9.) With a failed navigational system and thick fog preventing him from seeing any lights on the ground, I believe the pilot may have been experiencing vertigo. If an airplane turns at a constant two or three degrees, the motion is imperceptible. If a person inside cannot see lights from the instrument panel or from the sky or ground, before long he could be flying completely upside down and not even be aware of it. When a pilot realizes he is losing altitude, his automatic reaction is to pull the stick back. If he is not flying straight and level, however, his airplane can dive toward the earth rather than climb toward the safety of the sky.

If we are not careful, we can experience spiritual vertigo. If we stray off the course of obedience only two or three degrees—an almost imperceptible difference—we can become disoriented. Losing sight of our eternal destination and not even realizing how far off course we are, we will make poor choices. Our Savior does not want us to crash. His desire is for us to choose the route that will bring us back on the straight and narrow path to live with him eternally. “Come, follow me,” he has told us. He provides the light that will keep us on course and bring us back into his presence.

The pilot of Aeroperu Flight 603 asked for a guide plane—a light, if you will—to show him the way to the airport.

Before dawn, officials [in Peru] lined up ambulances, firetrucks, gasoline-powered generators and reflectors on the dark beach so that possible survivors would have bright lights to swim toward. [Salt Lake Tribune, 3 October 1996, A9]

I am reminded of an experience I had while I was in Canada. I worked side by side for a number of years with a man who was not a member of the Church. I had been reluctant to approach the subject of religion for fear of putting a strain on our friendly relationship. But finally I felt impressed to see if he were interested in learning about Mormonism and the gospel of Jesus Christ. He expressed interest and immediately thereafter he and his wife attended Sunday services with us. They, with their children, soon joined the Church, and they have indeed made a great contribution in time and talent. The parents have just returned from presiding over a mission, and the children have made contributions in various areas of service, and some have filled missions. What a loss to the Church if I had neglected my responsibility to tell them the good news of the gospel message!

On one occasion when he chastised me for waiting so long before telling him about the Church and thus keeping his family from enjoying the blessings of the gospel, I determined that would not happen again and that I would be more aware of who I was and act accordingly.

Many years ago I had supervisory responsibility for a mission in Arizona that covered many Native American Reservations. Much of the area was rugged and most of the missionaries drove pick-up trucks to get around.

One set of missionaries took their pick-up as far as they could and then had to walk the last couple of miles to reach a distant village. They spent much of the day there and were rejected by everyone. As they sorrowfully walked back to their pick-up they noticed a break in the barbed-wire fence and saw the cattle starting to move towards the break.

One Elder was from California and one was from Wyoming. The Elder from Wyoming said that they must stop and fix the fence so the cattle wouldn't get out. The other elder said: 'No, let's just leave it. This is God's punishment for their not receiving us.'

The Elder from Wyoming rolled up his sleeves and said, 'You can do as you please, but I was raised on a ranch and taught that whenever we see a break in a fence we fix it and I am going to do so.'

It took a long time and lots of effort, but eventually they got the fence fixed. Just as they turned to go to their pick-up a man on a horse came over a hill and called to them.

He said that he was checking the fence when he saw the missionaries stop at the break. He decided to stay out of sight and see what they would do. He watched as they fixed the fence and his heart melted - especially after the way his village had treated them. He asked them to return to the village. He didn't know what others would do, but he wanted to hear their message.

As child, I learned that God gives us gifts that allow us to bless others (see Moroni 10:8–18). I prayed, “Heavenly Father, what gift can I develop that will bless Thy children?”
At age 16, I began to study singing at the encouragement of the director of the local conservatory. “You have a beautiful voice,” she told me.
When the audience applauded after my first vocal performance, a phrase came clearly to my mind: “This is your gift.” I wept because my prayer had been answered. In my country, however, it can be difficult to make a living as a musician. But I knew that the Lord prepares a way. So, I continued to study singing, seeking to become the best I could be.
When I was 19, I was given a scholarship to study abroad. That opportunity and similar chances, however, failed to materialize. In hindsight, I can see that the Lord wanted me to stay in Ecuador.
People told me I had no future in music because I had no prestigious foreign education, wealth, or name recognition. But I knew that God had a plan for me, so I put my talent toward serving in the Church, where I formed choirs, directed music, and tried to inspire others to develop their gifts and talents.
Later, when I was offered work at a television station, I worried about temptations associated with the entertainment industry. But the answer to my prayers was, “Accept the job and show you can be an artist without compromising your standards.”
I have worked as a television artistic production assistant, as an assistant choral director for the Symphonic Choir of Guayaquil, and on the board of the Ecuadoran House of Culture for the province of Guayas.
I testify that it is possible to fulfill our dreams without sacrificing our principles. Today my name is recognized in my country and in my profession—thanks to my commitment to live the gospel and develop the gifts Heavenly Father has given me.
When we obey our Father’s will, the impossible becomes possible (see Matthew 19:26). I know He loves us and wants to help us develop our gifts to bless others.

To illustrate my next suggestion, may I share a personal story with you?
I was aware of the Lord's counsel concerning seeking to learn and grow. My parents and grandparents had taught me to work hard and I was living my life like I thought I should live it.
In 1963, when the world was less hectic and I was much younger, I had an experience that helped to change my life. I had completed my college degree, served in the army during the Korean War, and had returned home to Northern Utah. I had worked for a CPA firm, received my CPA license, and then after, some time and experience, I was finally working for a company in a small Utah city. We were satisfied and happy. Life was just as we had planned it would be. I had an important and well-paying position, and, as far as I was concerned, I had reached my professional goals. Then the Lord took a more active part in changing my life.
I was called to be ordained a Seventy. (Those were the days when the Seventies were ordained in each Stake). Elder Boyd K. Packer (now President Boyd K. Packer) who was then an assistant to the Twelve, was assigned to our stake conference. During his visit, he was to interview those to be ordained, and then after the conference, to ordain us in our Priesthood calling. It was the interview and the blessing that I received from Elder Packer that began to change my life.
As a part of a very powerful blessing, Elder packer blessed me that I would be "blessed with the spirit of divine discontent." He indicated that I should not and would not be content with what I was doing in my life unless I was doing all I could to "be about the Lord's work in the earth by serving my brothers and sisters to the best of my ability." Now that is the kind of a blessing that gives you a great deal to consider. It dawned on me later that he was reminding me of the Lord's command to "seek ye first the kingdom of heaven."
I continued to work in that community and was, after a time, called to be the bishop of the ward at a young age. I thought that I was responding to the blessing. I was doing all I could do to serve my brothers and sisters in the ward, and we were happy as a family in where we were living and what we were doing.
But ... I was not content! I felt that there was something else I should be doing.
It just so happened that in about 1965 or 1966, the Church announced in the Church News that it had an opening in the position of director of long-range planning. I applied. I did not even get a response to my application. In fact, I was not qualified and I knew it, but I was worried about that Priesthood blessing. To make a long story much shorter, it was seventeen years later, after many small miracles in my life, that I was asked by the First Presidency to assume the responsibility to coordinate the long-range planning efforts of the Church. This was the very work I had expressed interest in many years before. During those seventeen years, I had received many opportunities to be involved in the work of the Lord's kingdom and to utilize whatever talents the Lord had given me to do His work in the earth.
My suggestion is to listen to the Lord as He directs your life. Examine your patriarchal blessing, think of other blessings and council you have received and listen to the Spirit guiding you as you strive to be about His work on the earth. Do not be satisfied with your daily work or career unless you feel you are blessing others by the work you do.

Time after time, in meetings or by myself, my soul has been filled with joy at what I have experienced. One sacred occasion occurred during and after a high council hearing to consider a recommendation to rebaptize a brother who had been excommunicated. I was in the stake presidency then. During the hearing, we listened to the man bear testimony and express his desire to be rebaptized. I understood his longing to come back, and my soul was filled with joy to hear of his faithfulness in making his situation right. When he finished, he was excused from the room, and the court deliberated briefly, deciding to recommend rebaptism. The stake president asked me to inform the brother of the decision.

I went through the side door into the waiting room where he was seated alone, anxiously awaiting the decision. I took him by the hand as he stood and said, “My dear brother, the decision of the court is that you be rebaptized.” He fell into my arms, and we wept. How can I describe the joy that filled our souls as we benefitted from the loving influence of the Spirit?

After they interviewed and baptised six people at the first branch, Elder Toa and Elder Nalin headed to Saetsiwi, an isolated area tucked high in the mountains. They had no way to contact the Saetsiwi Branch president but knew he was expecting them at some point, so the missionaries drove their truck as far as they could then continue on foot for the remaining 3-hour trek. When they finally arrived, the branch president was nowhere to be found. The elders had hiked all that way in vain.
Then the big rain fell. Everyone in Saetsiwi knows that when it starts to rain hard, getting off the mountain is treacherous. Elder Toa and Elder Nalin rushed back to their truck, knowing every second counted before the local rivers swelled and became impassable. They made it to the truck in time to drive through the first and second rivers, but they knew the third river would be a challenge.
Sure enough, their truck got stuck partway. They tried to push it—no luck. They called the district president, and soon help arrived, but the truck still wouldn’t move. The river rose and flowed so swiftly that the helpers had to get out and move to safety. Then, Elder Nalin spotted something else that worried him. He saw that the waters in next river over—which converged with this river—had become torrential and threatened to break through.
In his mind, it seemed to Elder Nalin that an invisible force was holding that third river back, as though buying time for them—but he knew it wouldn’t be for long. The torrent was racing.
Elder Toa and Elder Nalin are examples of the finest possible young men from Vanuatu—responsible and excellent in every way. To them, a truck is of almost incomprehensible expense, especially in a country where families can barely afford to educate their children, much less buy a vehicle. The elders were determined to preserve the Church’s truck at all costs, but now the water was up to its door handles. They called their mission president and asked, “What should we do?”
President Messick’s response was: “Thank you for calling. Now get out of the truck and save yourselves. I don’t care about the truck; I care about you.”
As they rushed out of the truck, Elder Toa climbed into the back seat to grab their scriptures and the 114 interview papers they needed for the baptisms. He couldn’t see them anywhere. Then a voice yelled, “The water is coming! Get out of the truck!” and Elder Toa slipped out of the back door just as the truck was swept downstream.
As soon as the elders realised that their scriptures and the 114 interview papers were still in the truck—which was now well out of sight—they used the power of the priesthood and commanded the truck to protect their precious documents. “That’s what you can do with the priesthood,” the young men said later, with absolute confidence. “You can command.”
Elder Toa and Elder Nalin managed to pull themselves out to safety, and there by the side of the river, they knelt and prayed. As they prayed that the truck would be safe and that their scriptures and interview papers would stay dry, the missionaries felt a peaceful assurance that all would be fine. Then they walked the rest of the way off the mountain.
The next day, the elders received a call from the district president. Saetsiwi’s branch president had found their truck, 250 meters downstream. When the Elders arrived to retrieve it, they discovered not a dent or a scratch on the body of the vehicle, despite its journey in the river, past trees, rocks, and debris.
The inside of the truck wasn’t so fortunate. It was drenched. The engine suffered electrical damage, and everything in the cab—pamphlets, manuals, books—was soaked beyond repair, except for the Elders’ scriptures and the 114 interview papers. These sat in plain sight above everything else, completely dry.
While the truck was being repaired, Elder Toa and Elder Nalin resumed their tour on foot. At their next stop, they interviewed and baptised 48 candidates before continuing right across Tanna Island. “When you get tired of walking,” one of them told a fellow missionary, “You walk with your heart.”
Their hearts and a priesthood miracle helped these faithful elders reach and bring all 114 candidates safely into the Church of Jesus Christ.

As part of the ‘Rise and Reach’ summer programme, on three days in 2020 (15 August, 3 September and 24 October) a group of youth, young adults and missionaries of the Church in Walworth, London, undertook service projects for Thames Reach, at three of its sites. Thames Reach is a charitable organisation that supports homeless and vulnerable individuals, some with mental-health concerns, to access housing, training, and employment opportunities.
For various reasons, including the national lockdown caused by the COVID-19 pandemic, no gardening had taken place for a long time at the sites, and the gardens were much in need of attention. Thus, when the offer of help was made, Amy Dawe of Thames Reach readily accepted.
The tasks for the volunteers involved cutting back overgrown foliage, tree branches, weeding and litter-picking around the properties. On each occasion, the volunteers laboured diligently, the results being a very noticeable difference in the appearance of the gardens.
Amy was delighted with the results. She said the residents were very pleased with the transformation. Once again, they would be able to use and enjoy their outdoor spaces, thanks to the tremendous hard work of the group of Church volunteers.
Following the completion of the second project, Bishop Abdul Rollings-Kamara of Peckham Ward, received an email from the volunteers programmes manager of Thames Reach. She informed him that the volunteers had won a Volunteer Hero Award, in recognition for the work they had undertaken. This came as a surprise to everyone. A certificate of achievement was subsequently awarded, as well as a gift voucher. These were presented by Bill Tidnam, chief executive of Thames Reach, on 24 October.
Through their service, the volunteers have exemplified the Rise and Reach motto to ‘Go and Do’, by going out and doing good for their community. Although their service was unconditional, they received a wonderful and unexpected award. The bishop will put the gift voucher towards food for a foodbank.

Q. There was another time you altered your career plans for other goals—when you took two years off to serve a mission. How did you make that decision?
A. It was difficult. To be honest, I met this girl (whom I ended up marrying. Her name is Melodie. It’s perfect). And when she started talking about the kind of guy she wanted to marry, she said he had to be an “R.M.”
I misunderstood her and thought, “Why is it so important for her to marry a nurse?” But then she explained. I thought, because I’d joined the Church later, I’d be off the hook with the mission thing. She didn’t buy that theory, and I knew it wasn’t right either. But I was worried that I would come back and I wouldn’t have my music anymore. I think athletes go through the same thing. They’re afraid they won’t be able to play when they get back.
Q. And what happened?
A. I went to Yugoslavia. I was able to use my music a little. I played piano for church and for city things, but I really didn’t do a lot of music on my mission. So when I got home, I was pleasantly surprised to find that not only had I remembered how to write music, but the maturity, perspective, and depth that I’d gained really helped. Plus I realized the power of music.

Ítalo was excited for the ward temple trip. They were going to the Recife Brazil Temple. It was 15 hours away!
Ítalo, his older brother, Henrique, and their parents left early in the morning. As they rode along, Ítalo kept thinking about something Mom had told him. “This year, you can see how beautiful the temple is from the outside,” she said. “Next year, you’ll be old enough to see how beautiful it is on the inside.”
Ítalo hadn’t been to any temple before. But he had been watching the new temple being built in Fortaleza, where his family lived. It was amazing!
They stopped for lunch. Ítalo had his favorite, feijoada, black bean stew with rice. While he ate, he kept thinking about the temple. When the temple in Fortaleza was finally dedicated, it would be a temple his family could visit over and over again. They wouldn’t have to drive so far.
The sun was setting when Ítalo and his family arrived at the temple in Recife. “Que bonito!” Ítalo said. “How beautiful!” He couldn’t stop smiling.
The next morning, Mom showed Ítalo where he would be waiting with his friends from the ward. “Even though you can’t go inside the temple yet,” she said, “pay attention to the special spirit you can feel while you’re on the temple grounds.” Then the rest of Ítalo’s family went inside the temple.
Members of the ward sat with Ítalo and the other children on the grass near the temple. They read stories from O Livro de Mórmon (the Book of Mormon) together. Reading scriptures is a good way to get ready for the temple, Ítalo thought. He felt calm and safe. Mom’s right, he thought. There is a special feeling here.
Then the adults took Ítalo and the other children for a walk around the temple grounds. That’s when Ítalo noticed the words over the entrance to the temple. “Santidade ao Senhor. A casa do Senhor,” they said. “Holiness to the Lord: the House of the Lord.”
No wonder I feel so peaceful here, he thought. This is God’s house.
When the temple trip was over, Ítalo and his family returned home. He wanted to remember how he had felt at the temple. What could he do?
Sometimes Ítalo felt he could draw his feelings better than he could write about them. So he drew a picture of the temple. Then he showed it to Mom and Dad.
“This will remind me of where I want to go,” he said. He kept the picture in his room where he could look at it each day.
“I want to be ready,” he said. “Because I want to go inside someday!”

One illustration of the difficulty of translation that might be appropriate occurred in a non-Church setting, but I think you can appreciate this. It was a meeting in Vienna, Austria, between Krushchev and President Kennedy. During the course of this meeting, through interpreters, President Kennedy was stressing the fact that Mr. Krushchev of Russia should not miscalculate the American will. As President Kennedy would stress, “Don’t miscalculate our will,” Mr. Khrushchev would flush and would respond rather negatively. At the end of the conference, President Kennedy was not satisfied with the progress that had been made, and so they went back through the interpretation script to find out what might have happened. It occurred to them, as they reviewed what had occurred, that the person who had done the interpreting from English into Russian had interpreted the term miscalculate as “You dumbbell, you could not add two and two and get four.”

We must be very careful not to translate just word to word, but it must be feeling to feeling.

Jensen: I guess going on a mission is something you always have in the back of your mind, but I hadn’t made the commitment as early as I should have. Then when I started having a lot of success in sports, I wondered if I couldn’t motivate people with that example instead. I remember sitting down with Coach (LaVell) Edwards. The things he said had a great influence. He said that if I was thinking about a mission I should go and that he would support my decision. I remember talking to my dad and my old high school coach and some of those people that had been an influence on me. I decided that a mission would really help me in a lot of ways.

Equally important in shaping and influencing his life was his mother, Lucy Mack Smith. Although this strong woman gave occasional leadership, her primary role appeared to be support to the family. She gave birth to eleven children and endured faithfully as all but four preceded her in death. During her life, she watched three of her children and one grandson die as a result of ruthless mob violence and persecution.

Lucy prepared herself early in her marriage to raise a prophet. On one occasion she became seriously ill, and the doctors said she would die. Lucy records that she “made a solemn covenant with God that if He would let me live I would endeavor to serve him according to the best of my abilities.” After a voice assured her that she would live, she told her mother, “the Lord will let me live, if I am faithful to the promise which I made to him, to be a comfort to my mother, my husband, and my children” (Lucy Mack Smith, History of Joseph Smith, by His Mother, Lucy Mack Smith, ed. Preston Nibley, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1979, p. 34).

She gave continual encouragement, support, and strength to her son, Joseph the Prophet. His mother was the first person with whom young Joseph shared some of his momentous experiences of the Sacred Grove. Years later, he shared with her the joy and relief he felt when the Lord allowed others to view the sacred plates of gold. Lucy wrote that “Joseph threw himself down beside me, and exclaimed, … ‘you do not know how happy I am: the Lord has now caused the plates to be shown to three more besides myself. They have seen an angel … and they will have to bear witness to the truth of what I have said, for now they know for themselves, that I do not go about to deceive the people, and I feel as if I was relieved of a burden which was almost too heavy for me to bear” (Lucy Mack Smith, History, p. 152).

Her determination to testify to the restoration of the gospel may have led her to dictate her well-known History of Joseph Smith. This was a major undertaking in her day. The book’s importance to the Church today is immeasurable! It contains many details of the Prophet Joseph’s life that might never have been known otherwise. It stands as a monument to the devotion of Lucy Mack Smith and her family.

Like great parents of all ages, Lucy turned to prayer for divine help to sustain her family. During the march from Ohio to Missouri known as Zion’s Camp, Joseph and Hyrum were seriously ill with cholera, and their lives were almost taken. At one point, “Hyrum sprang to his feet and exclaimed, ‘Joseph, we shall return to our families. I have had an open vision, in which I saw mother kneeling under an apple tree; and she is even now asking God, in tears, to spare our lives. … The Spirit testifies, that her prayers … will be answered’” (Lucy Mack Smith, History, p. 229).

To encourage the teachers in our ward to use better object lessons, I called those who would be attending a teacher development meeting and asked them to recall the most memorable object lesson they had seen. The responses were wonderful and sparked a deeper-than-usual interest in our upcoming meeting. At the beginning of the meeting, my wife, Rosie, and I used the responses to list nearly 30 object lessons on the chalkboard. We spent the rest of the meeting encouraging the teachers to share the object lessons that had the most impact on them.

It’s Saturday! You’ve been looking forward to today all week long. You and some friends have big plans to go mountain biking. However, despite the sunny forecast that had been predicted, it’s raining buckets outside. What do you do?

Go back to bed and pull the covers over your head. Life’s not fair!

Contact your friends and see if they’d be up for something different. They now want to go roller-skating, but you’ve never tried that before. It sounds kind of boring. What do you do?

Tell them no thanks. Spend the rest of the day complaining about the weather.

You head to the roller rink, and skating is actually kind of fun. You’re about to go home when your cell phone buzzes. Your ward needs help with a last-minute service project to help a family moving to the area. Can you come?

You’d rather not. Normally you like service projects, but your plans were already thrown out of whack today. You turn down the offer and head home.

Sure thing. You spend the next hour helping the family unload their moving truck. You notice the teenager in the family has hardly said 10 words the whole time you were there. He seems kind of shy. What do you do?

While you know it can’t be easy moving to a new area, you could really use some time to just relax. You say good-bye and spend the rest of the night watching a movie on your own.

You invite the new guy over to shoot some hoops. You plan on it being a quick visit, but you soon realize he’s pretty cool once you get to know him. You spend the next two hours talking while you play ball.

“So, how was your day?” What’s your answer?

“Today was GREAT!”

“PRETTY GOOD, overall.”

“It was OK. Could have been better.”

“LOUSY. Worst Saturday ever.”

“I can’t go to church on Sunday!”
Jene looked up in surprise when she heard those words coming from her older brother, Rolf. On Rolf’s feet were shoes that were too worn out to wear anymore. His toes stuck out from under torn leather. Ragged ends of broken shoelaces dangled uselessly. These were the only shoes Rolf had.
“I can’t walk around in these anymore,” he said. “And I can’t go to church or to town without shoes.” He flopped down on the floor and rested his chin in his hands.
Mother walked over to the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a jar. The children knew what was in that jar—tithing money.
Holding out a few dollar bills, Mother said: “This is all the money I have. It’s enough to pay tithing on what your father was paid the last time he found work.” They all stared at it for a minute, and then she added, “It would be enough to buy shoes, but I can’t do both.”
She put the money back in the jar and sat down at the kitchen table. “I need to think about this for a while,” she said.
For a long time the children played quietly, trying not to disturb their mother while she sat at the table. Finally, she stood up and walked toward the door. “I don’t know what Rolf will do for shoes,” she said quietly. “But I’ll feel better if our tithing is paid. I’ll go take the money down to the bishop’s house right now,” she said.
Jene ran out the door behind her. “Can I go too?” she asked.
“Yes, come along if you want,” Mother said.
Jene and her mother silently walked the six blocks to the bishop’s house. As they reached the door, her mother took the money out of her pocket and looked at it one more time. Jene saw the worried look on her mother’s face.
“Come in, come in,” Bishop Johnson said, smiling at them. He shook Jene’s hand and thanked her mother when she handed him the money. Then he said, “I know it’s not easy sometimes to pay tithing, but the Lord blesses us when we do.”
On their way home, Jene and her mother saw their neighbor Mrs. Colgrove coming out her front door. She waved for them to come over to her front gate. As they got closer, Mrs. Colgrove held out a pair of leather shoes to Jene’s mother.
“I’ve been meaning to bring these over to you,” she said. “I thought maybe one of your children could use them.”
Mother looked at the shoes with amazement. Jene clapped her hands happily as she realized they looked very close to the size Rolf needed.
Finally Mother was able to speak. “Thank you … thank you so much,” she said, rubbing the soft leather.
Jene took off running toward home. Bursting through the kitchen door she shouted: “Rolf, Rolf! You have new shoes!”
Rolf jumped up, looking puzzled. Jene pointed outside to their mother who was walking into the yard holding the shoes. Soon Mother was explaining to Rolf where the shoes had come from.
Rolf quickly put them on and marched around the room to show how well they fit. Picking up the old pair of raggedy shoes from the floor, he said, “Now we can dump these in the garbage where they belong!”
“Oh no,” Mother said, taking the shoes out of his hands. “These are very special shoes,” she said. “They need to be kept in a special place.”
Jene and Rolf followed her to her bedroom and watched as she opened a big wooden chest.
“Why would you want to put those old shoes in there?” Jene asked.
With a tear in her eye, Mother answered: “These shoes need to be kept forever. Whenever we look at them we’ll remember that the Lord blesses us when we pay our tithing.”
Jene and Rolf grew up and had children and homes of their own. When their mother died, Jene was given the wooden trunk full of special things. The shoes are still in there and are taken out from time to time so that children and grandchildren can hear the story about the lesson learned long ago from a pair of old, worn-out shoes.