Gospel Story Finder

Let me tell you of a man I know. I will not mention his name lest he feel embarrassed. His wife felt there was something missing in their lives. She spoke with a relative one day who was a member of the Church. The relative suggested that she call the missionaries. She did so. But the husband was rude to them and told them not to come again.

Months passed. One day another missionary, finding the record of this visit, decided that he and his companion would try again. He was a tall elder from California who carried a big smile on his face.

They knocked on the door; the man answered. Could they come in for a few minutes? they asked. He consented.

The missionary said, in effect, “I wonder if you know how to pray.” The man answered that he knew the Lord’s Prayer. The missionary said, “That is good, but let me tell you how to give a personal prayer.” He went on to explain that we get on our knees in an attitude of humility before the God of heaven. The man did so. The missionary then went on to say, “We address God as our Father in Heaven. We then thank Him for His blessings, such as our health, our friends, our food. We then ask for His blessings. We express our innermost hopes and desires. We ask Him to bless those in need. We do it all in the name of His Beloved Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, concluding with ‘amen.’”

It was a pleasant experience for the man. He had gleaned a little light and understanding, a touch of faith. He was ready to try another step.

Line upon line, the missionaries patiently taught him. He responded as his faith grew into a dim light of understanding. Friends from his branch gathered around to reassure him and answer his questions. The men played tennis with him, and he and his family were invited to their homes for dinner.

He was baptized, and that was a giant step of faith. The branch president asked him to be a Scoutmaster to four boys. That led to other responsibilities, and the light of faith strengthened in his life with each new opportunity and experience.

That has continued. Today he stands as a capable and loved stake president, a leader of great wisdom and understanding, and above all, a man of great faith.

The following year in seminary we studied the New Testament. One morning after I woke up, I began to read about the Savior in Gethsemane. Tears flowed from my eyes as I realized that the drops of blood He shed were for me. How I wished I had never sinned! The words of Isaiah that I had studied the previous year came into my mind: “He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him” (Isaiah 53:5). As I read about the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, my mom came into my room. I shared with her my feelings, my testimony, and my desire for my father to know what I had learned in seminary.
My testimony continued to grow the next year as we read the Doctrine and Covenants. I obtained a testimony that Joseph Smith was a prophet. I also decided to follow his example and ask God if the Church is true. Although I already had conviction in my heart, one afternoon I found myself alone and sincerely prayed. As I did, I realized that the testimony I was asking for had been developing as I studied the scriptures and attended seminary.
The Lord opened my mind and my heart that year, and I understood the Doctrine and Covenants as I never had before. I also learned of the great value of souls (see D&C 18:10–16) and began to share my growing testimony with those who did not know about the gospel, including my father.
I knew that studying the Book of Mormon during my final year of seminary would also fortify my testimony. As I truly studied, I felt Heavenly Father’s love for me. The stories inspired me to the point that all I wanted to do was read the Book of Mormon. I began to take the Book of Mormon to school and would read it during my free time. I also began to discuss what I was reading with my father.
One day after a long conversation with my father about the gospel, I challenged him to read all of the Book of Mormon. I testified that, like me, he could receive a testimony.
I am happy to say that my father read the Book of Mormon. When he did, he knew the Church is true and was eventually baptized! My family is now preparing to be sealed in the temple. I know that attending seminary and reading the scriptures helped me develop my own testimony, and I know that they bless families.

Recently I received a letter from Jeremy Chatelain. I first met Jeremy some years ago in the Philippines as he served a full-time mission for the Church. Following his honorable release, he married and about three years ago was appointed to a teaching post in the Church Educational System. Jeremy and his wife, Connie, looked forward to their new life together and his working full-time with seminary students in Idaho. Just before he started his new career, Jeremy, Connie, and their families went swimming at a favorite location. Everyone was enjoying a wonderful time swimming and having fun together. When Jeremy dived into the water for the last time that day, little did he realize it would change his life on earth forever.

He writes:
It’s hard for me to believe that it has been a little more than three years since my accident. . . . We have been greatly blessed in our lives. I left the hospital in October of 1998 and returned to Ogden to acclimate to life as a quadriplegic outside of the hospital. . . . We have now been living in a home in Blackfoot, Idaho, for nearly three years. The Lord must surely see the future and can mercifully guide us accordingly. We found the house before the accident and curiously noted, among other things, that many of the doors were extra wide, thus wheelchair friendly. We have had to make very few changes to accommodate my needs, which has spared our finances for other necessities and wants.

He continues:
Another tremendous blessing in our lives is the Church Educational System. When many other employers would have counted my disabilities too great to continue employment, CES has maintained a very warm, caring, and accommodating relationship with us. . . . We have been included in all of the functions as if my accident had not happened. Our seminary building has been set up so that with near complete independence I can access my office and the classroom well enough to volunteer teach one period daily each trimester.

Despite the many challenges he faces as a quadriplegic, Jeremy writes about his future plans this way: “I am currently pursuing my master of education and hope to complete it within another year or so. My next goal is then to try to come back and teach full-time.”

I am pleased to report that Jeremy, his wife, and students are watching this broadcast in Blackfoot, Idaho, tonight.

Speaking of Connie, his bride of just a few years, he says:
My wife has been unfailingly supportive in all I’ve done and has made great personal sacrifices to maintain our marriage. We even returned to the Philippines, wheelchair and all, last fall at the conclusion of my brother’s mission in Baguio. It brought me great joy to introduce my wife to the Filipinos, for whom I have tremendous love.

He concluded his letter by telling me of yet another challenge they faced:
Nearly a year ago Connie was involved in a serious car accident on the Malad pass. Her car lost traction on a snowy overpass and rolled down into the median. It crushed the car and broke seven of her ribs, as well as a number of bones in her back. I nearly lost her that day. She spent about a week in the hospital and a few more months before the pain somewhat subsided. She is doing well now and is working as a medical assistant at a clinic here in town.

When many others would have wallowed in self-pity and doubt, Jeremy described his setbacks this way: “Life yet continues to provide us with learning experiences. We have been truly blessed.”

I share part of that humbling letter with you to illustrate that regardless of the challenges, the Lord can bring peace into the lives of those who are distressed.

As a young missionary in Japan struggling to learn a difficult language, I heard some vocabulary words early and often. Greetings such as ohayo gozaimasu (good morning) or konnichiwa (good afternoon) were two of these. Another was wakarimasen, which means, “I don’t understand.” This word, along with a side-to-side hand expression, seems to be a favorite response from Japanese contacts directed to young missionaries as they attempt to strike up conversations.
Initially, as I reflected on the meaning of “and with all thy getting get understanding,” I thought of understanding more in terms of this type of comprehension: what I might hear with my ears and understand in my mind. I thought of the Japanese saying wakarimasen. Do I understand or not understand?
As I have studied and observed the use of the word understanding in the scriptures and from the words of living prophets, however, I have come to realize a deeper meaning. Consider these words from Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles when he was the Presiding Bishop of the Church:
“First, we start with the intelligence with which we were born. To our intelligence we add knowledge as we search for answers, study, and educate ourselves. To our knowledge we add experience, which should lead us to a level of wisdom. In addition to our wisdom, we add the help of the Holy Ghost through our prayers of faith, asking for spiritual guidance and strength. Then, and only then, do we reach an understanding in our hearts—which motivates us to ‘do what is right; let the consequence follow.’ (Hymns, 1985, no. 237.) The feelings of an understanding heart give us the sweet spirit of assurance of not only knowing but doing what is right no matter what the circumstances. The understanding in our hearts comes from a close interdependence of study and prayer.”1
Now consider again: “And with all thy getting get understanding.” Understanding in this context follows intelligence, knowledge, experience, wisdom, and promptings from the Holy Ghost—all of which lead us to knowing and doing what is right.
Most of you are approaching or have entered a critical intersection or crossroads in your life. You are becoming more independent with each passing year, and you are moving deeper into the “and with all thy getting” phase of your life. What is it that you are going to be getting? You may be getting a husband or a wife, your own family, a job, to name a few things.
To manage these very important things that we “get,” we must also obtain “understanding,” as the scripture teaches. This understanding comes through an interdependence of study and prayer. Said another way, we must trust in and rely on the Lord Jesus Christ. Alma described this when he likened the word unto a seed. As he stated, “It beginneth to enlighten my understanding, yea, it beginneth to be delicious to me” (Alma 32:28; emphasis added).
President Thomas S. Monson often quotes a scripture from Proverbs that adds another dimension to this understanding: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).2
As we trust in and rely on the Lord, a greater measure of understanding comes from Him into our heart.
Let me offer an example of a powerful woman who played a key role in the Restoration, who trusted in the Lord, and who leaned not unto her own understanding.
Shortly after the Church was organized in Palmyra, New York, Joseph Smith’s mother, Lucy Mack Smith, remained in Waterloo, New York, with a large group of Saints while her husband, Joseph Sr., and some of their sons, including Joseph Jr., departed before her for Kirtland, Ohio. Her responsibility was to bring this group to Ohio when she received word from her son, the Prophet.
Word came in early spring 1831. Lucy, with the help of some of the brethren, began to move the group to Buffalo, New York, with the intention of making passage to Ohio by ship on Lake Erie. She said: “When the brethren considered the spring sufficiently open for traveling on the water, we all began to prepare for our removal to Kirtland. We hired a boat … ; and … we numbered eighty souls.”
Then, as they pushed off into the Erie Canal and headed to Buffalo, she said: “I then called the brethren and sisters together, and reminded them that we were traveling by the commandment of the Lord, as much as Father Lehi was, when he left Jerusalem; and, if faithful, we had the same reasons to expect the blessings of God. I then desired them to be solemn, and to lift their hearts to God continually in prayer, that we might be prospered.”
About halfway to Buffalo from Waterloo, passage along the canal became impossible. Conditions for the 80 Saints were uncomfortable, and murmuring began almost immediately. Lucy, relying on the Lord, had to unite their faith. She told them: “No, no, … you will not starve, brethren, nor anything of that sort; only do be patient and stop your murmuring. I have no doubt but the hand of the Lord is over us.”
When they arrived in Buffalo on the fifth day after leaving Waterloo, the harbor leading to Lake Erie was frozen. They took passage on a ship with Captain Blake, a man acquainted with Lucy Smith and her family.
After a couple of days, although conditions on the ship were not conducive for all of them to stay while awaiting notice of departure, Lucy reported, “Captain Blake requested the passengers to remain on board, as he wished, from that time, to be ready to start at a moment’s warning; at the same time he sent out a man to measure the depth of the ice, who, when he returned, reported that it was piled up to the height of twenty feet [6 m], and that it was his opinion that we would remain in the harbor at least two weeks longer.”
This was devastating news to the group. Supplies were low and conditions were difficult. Lucy Mack Smith further recorded her admonition to the Saints: “You profess to put your trust in God, then how can you feel to murmur and complain as you do! You are even more unreasonable than the children of Israel were; for here are my sisters pining for their rocking chairs, and brethren from whom I expected firmness and energy, declare that they positively believe they shall starve to death before they get to the end of their journey. And why is it so? Have any of you lacked? … Where is your faith? Where is your confidence in God? Can you not realize that all things were made by him, and that he rules over the works of his own hands? And suppose that all the Saints here should lift their hearts in prayer to God, that the way might be opened before us, how easy it would be for him to cause the ice to break away, so that in a moment we could be on our journey!”
Now, please observe here the great faith of Mother Smith—how she chose to trust in the Lord and how she asked that the Saints with her not lean unto their own understanding:
“‘Now, brethren and sisters, if you will all of you raise your desires to heaven, that the ice may be broken up, and we be set at liberty, as sure as the Lord lives, it will be done.’ At that instant a noise was heard, like bursting thunder. The captain cried, ‘Every man to his post.’ The ice parted, leaving barely a passage for the boat, and so narrow that as the boat passed through[,] the buckets of the waterwheel were torn off with a crash, which, joined to the word of command from the captain, the hoarse answering of the sailors, the noise of the ice, and the cries and confusion of the spectators, presented a scene truly terrible. We had barely passed through the avenue when the ice closed together again, and the Colesville brethren were left in Buffalo, unable to follow us.
“As we were leaving the harbor, one of the bystanders exclaimed, ‘There goes the “Mormon” company! That boat is sunk in the water nine inches deeper than ever it was before, and, mark it, she will sink—there is nothing surer.’ In fact, they were so sure of it that they went straight to the [news] office and had it published that we were sunk, so that when we arrived at Fairport we read in the papers the news of our own death.”3
“And with all thy getting get understanding,” or, said another way, “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5).
I have personally observed the heartbreak and personal havoc wrought upon those whose focus is on worldly “getting” and not on the Lord’s “understanding.” It seems that those who lean unto their own understanding or rely on the arm of the flesh are more likely to develop a disproportionate focus or obsession for material gain, prestige, power, and position. But keeping the “getting” in accordance with this scriptural guidance of “understanding” will temper your temporal appetite. It will allow the proper context for your activities as a productive member of society and of the Lord’s kingdom.
As a young student full of aspiration, I remember listening to a respected and successful mentor suggest that we appropriately manage ambitions by following an order of “learn, earn, serve.” President Gordon B. Hinckley (1910–2008) taught a pattern that leads to trusting the Lord and relying on Him rather than on ourselves. He said: “Each of us has a fourfold responsibility. First, we have a responsibility to our families. Second, we have a responsibility to our employers. Third, we have a responsibility to the Lord’s work. Fourth, we have a responsibility to ourselves.”
We must have a balance. President Hinckley suggested that we fulfill this fourfold responsibility through family prayer, family home evening, family scripture study, honesty and loyalty to our employer, fulfillment of our Church responsibilities, personal scripture study, rest, recreation, and exercise.4
American philosopher and poet Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “This time, like all times, is a very good one, if we but know what to do with it.”5
Fortunately, Latter-day Saints never have to look very far to know what to do. With your knowledge of a loving Heavenly Father and the great plan of happiness, you have rudders deep in the water. Now, put your oars in deeply as well and pull hard and even.
In a general conference talk, President Monson quoted from Proverbs, as he had done before: “Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” Then he said, “That has been the story of my life.”6 What a great life to emulate.
I have great expectations for each of you, as do the Father and the Son. I finish where I began—with the exhortation found in Proverbs: “And with all thy getting get understanding.”
Get real understanding. This will come to you as you realize the interdependence of study and prayer, as you maintain a commitment to serve while learning and earning, and as you lean not unto yourself but trust in and rely on the Lord.

Four-year-old Chad could hardly wait until Monday, when he would go to Cousins’ Camp for the first time. His grandparents held a special camp each year for all their grandchildren.
His older brothers and sister talked about it all year, saying it was even better than going to the Grand Canyon, where their family had visited last year.
The night before camp, Chad and his brothers and sister packed their clothes, scriptures, and journals. Chad couldn’t read yet, but he had his own set of scriptures. When Grandpa had told him he should bring a journal, too, Chad was worried.
“Grandpa,” Chad had whispered, “I don’t know how to write.”
Grandpa had smiled and placed a gentle hand on Chad’s shoulder. “That’s all right. You can draw pictures of what we do at camp. Grandma and I want you to have a record of the week.”
Chad’s mother took him and his brothers and sister to his grandparents’ home in the country the following morning. A banner hung between two poles with the words “Cousins’ Camp” printed in big black letters.
Grandma and Grandpa greeted each child with a hug and a name tag. Grandpa asked Chad’s older brother, Tayson, to give a prayer.
The children rotated between a story station, a cooking station, and a craft station. Grandpa told stories about their pioneer ancestors at the story station. At the cooking station, they made pizzas from Grandma’s homemade dough for their lunch.
At the craft station, Chad made a birdhouse. He couldn’t decide what colors to paint it. All the colors were so pretty. Then he remembered a song he learned in Primary. He chose red, yellow, and blue.
Grandma sat on the bench beside him. “You have chosen beautiful colors for your birdhouse,” she said.
Chad smiled and said, “Thanks, Grandma. They’re the Primary colors.”
Later, Grandma helped everyone make Peanut Butter Balls for an afternoon snack. Chad ate three.
When Chad started to yawn, Grandma suggested a nap.
For dinner, Grandpa showed everyone how to make tinfoil meals with hamburger, potatoes, and carrots. Then they cooked them in the campfire coals.
Chad usually didn’t like his food mixed together, but the tinfoil meals tasted great. He asked for seconds.
At the end of the day, everyone roasted marshmallows over the campfire. Grandpa and Grandma told stories from their childhood. After Chad said his prayers, he settled inside his sleeping bag, tired but happy. “This is the best camp ever!” he thought. “There are already a lot of pictures I can draw in my journal. I can’t wait to see what we do tomorrow.”

From Jean Lackey:
"When I was five years old, my mother divorced my father to protect me and my siblings from my father. He was mentally unstable. . . It was very difficult to be a single mother of five children in 1960. She struggled to pay the mortgage, childcare, and to keep food on the table. My brother was also medically fragile and one of my sisters had special needs. Mom never remarried, and I know she was very lonely. Once when in my forties, she tried to apologize to my sister and me for working all the time and not being there for us. We quickly informed her that we knew she did it because she loved us, not out of a need to have a career or socialize. I was blessed to have a loving home to grow up in where good morals and a love of our Savior was always present. We were taught the love of family, a strong work ethic, and to serve others."

A few years ago, my younger sister, Brooklynn, and I visited my aunt and uncle for a couple of weeks. We had only been at my aunt’s house for a few minutes when my cousin Jenna and her boyfriend, Merrick, burst inside, eager to see us.
Over the next few weeks, we did many things with Jenna and Merrick. We went swimming together, rode scooters, watched movies, and jumped on Jenna’s trampoline. We also played card games together. But my favorite activity was dressing Merrick up in costumes.
Merrick was not a member of the Church. But since we had become good friends, I decided to invite him to come to church with us. Jenna, Brooklynn, and I were very happy when Merrick said yes. It was a wonderful Sunday being able to see Merrick at church, smiling and listening to the talks about eternal families. He wanted to know more about our beliefs and came to church the next week too.
Two months later Merrick was baptized. Then he left to join the military. He and Jenna wrote to each other while he was away. After two years Merrick and Jenna were married in the Salt Lake Temple! It was wonderful to see Jenna and Merrick coming out of the temple together. Who would have guessed two years ago that an eight-year-old girl asking a simple question could help lead to a temple marriage?
Knowing the wonderful happiness that can come from inviting someone to church has given me courage and excitement to be a young missionary to my friends and neighbors.

It has been 400 years since the publication of the King James Bible, with significant contributions from William Tyndale, a great hero in my eyes.
The clergy did not want the Bible published in common English. They hounded Tyndale from place to place. He said to them, “If God spare my life, ere many years I will cause a boy that driveth the plough shall know more of the Scripture than thou.”
Tyndale was betrayed and confined to a dark, freezing prison in Brussels for over a year. His clothing was in rags. He begged his captors for his coat and cap and a candle, saying, “It is indeed wearisome sitting alone in the dark.” These were denied him. Eventually, he was taken from prison and before a large crowd was strangled and burned at the stake. But William Tyndale’s work and martyr’s death were not in vain.
Since Latter-day Saint children are taught from their youth to know the scriptures, they in a measure fulfill the prophecy made four centuries earlier by William Tyndale.

Many years ago we used to have money-raising events in our wards to pay for the utilities and other local expenses and activities now paid by the general Church funds and the local unit budget allowance. We used to have bazaars, fairs, dinners, and other fund-raising activities. At that time my ward had a wonderful, devoted, committed bishop.
A member of a neighboring ward found that a dunking machine was a successful money-raising activity. Participants would pay to throw baseballs at a marked mechanical arm. Hitting the bull’s-eye would trigger a release, plunging the person sitting on the seat of the machine into a big basin of cold water. Our ward decided to use this machine, and someone suggested that more people would pay for balls to throw if the bishop would be willing to sit on the dunking seat. Our bishop was a good sport, and because he was responsible for raising the money, he willingly consented to sit on the dunking seat. Soon some began to buy balls and to throw them at the target. Several hit the mark, and the bishop was drenched. After half an hour of this, he began to shake with the cold.
While some of the people thought this was great fun, my father was very offended that the office of the bishop had been so belittled and held up to ridicule or even contempt. Even though the money raised was intended for a good cause, I can still remember feeling ashamed that some of our people did not show more respect for both the office and the man who had by night and day served us so well as our good shepherd. As holders of the priesthood of God, we should set the example of sustaining the leadership of the Church to our families, our friends, and our associates.

My parents investigated the Church in Germany during World War I, even though no missionaries were allowed in the country at that time. My mother first heard about the gospel from a cousin of mine, older than I, who was disowned by her family because she had joined the Church. Father permitted mother to attend meetings, taking my brother and me with her, but he would have nothing to do with Church himself. Then a fellow worker gave him a Book of Mormon and told him about the Church. Father read the book, studied the gospel, and began attending church with us.
When the branch president suggested baptism to my mother, she told him that she and the children were ready, but she wanted to wait for her husband. Father said, “I am ready, too.” But mother told him he wasn’t ready because he still smoked a pipe. Father broke his pipe into three pieces and threw it into the fire. As a jeweler and watchmaker he had been accustomed to working at a high table, smoking a long pipe that reached to the floor, so it really was an effort for him to give it up.
Since baptisms were illegal at the time, we arranged to meet some Saints at a street car depot at night and go to the river for the baptismal ceremony. On the appointed day, I came home from school so ill I could not eat my supper. When the time came to leave, I felt worse, and mother said I should wait and be baptized later. I insisted that I wanted baptism now and would not wait any longer. We rode the street car for about an hour to get to the Chemitz River, then walked through the park to where the baptism would take place.
By the time we got off the street car I was feeling so bad that I could not talk or walk. My father and some of the brethren took turns carrying me. When we arrived, we found a policeman on guard, but he was sitting against a tree, asleep. Barbed wire was strung across the path leading to the river, but some of the brethren held the wire apart while we crept through. We found the river frozen over, but the brethren broke the ice, and then I was asked if I still wanted to be baptized that night. It was about midnight. I nodded, for I still couldn’t talk, and I was the first of eleven people (three children and eight adults) to be baptized. It must have been the impact of the cold water, but when I was immersed, I felt as if a thick shell was being peeled off me. I was able to climb up the embankment by myself and I felt well again. Mother and some sisters helped me dry and dress. Afterward, I sat on a little folding stool to be confirmed.
Following the baptisms, we returned as we had come, along the narrow path and through the barbed wire fence, past the policeman who was still asleep. A big bright moon made the night seem almost day, and as we walked back to the street car depot we sang hymns of praise to our Father in Heaven.
Sometime after the war was over, the missionaries returned to Germany, and one Sunday morning a new missionary from America who couldn’t speak our language came to our home for dinner. My parents spoke some English, since they had lived in Liverpool, England, for four years. In the evening we all went to sacrament meeting, and the new elder was asked to speak. I remember feeling sorry for him, knowing that he knew no German, and I wondered what be would say. He didn’t have time to copy a talk from one of the other elders who had been there awhile.
But he spoke for over an hour. He told the Saints to go to America because another world war would come which would be worse than the one we had just been through. This was a terrible thing to hear, because the suffering of the recent war was still vivid in our memories. On the way home from the meeting I asked my parents what language the missionary spoke. I knew it wasn’t German and I knew it wasn’t English, although I didn’t understand English; yet I understood every word he said. My father said I should never forget that experience for I probably would never hear anything like that again. This elder had spoken in tongues.
From that day my parents spoke of little else but plans for emigrating to America. My father went first, and about a year later he sent for my mother, my brother, and me. My mother was at first denied permission to leave Germany, because she had heart trouble, but she insisted my brother and I go; six months later she was permitted to join us.
Everything the missionary had predicted came to pass. My sister, who did not accept the gospel and who still lives in Germany, told us about the events there that transpired as the elder had prophesied.

Pam’s work at hospitals and children’s schools has given her a special interest in the handicapped. She is learning sign language and now regularly assists the visitors to Disney World who are hearing impaired.

“I’ve been able to sign for our arts festival and recently at the Ohio and Pennsylvania schools for the deaf. You can’t imagine how excited these kids are when they learn that I am from Disney World and that I can communicate with them in sign language,” Pam said.

One day Heber J. Grant was playing marbles with some friends when a bookkeeper from the bank walked by.
Friend 1: That man makes a lot of money.
Heber: How much?
Friend 1: As much as you would earn polishing 120 pairs of boots every single day.
Heber knew he wanted to be able to make a living when he was older.
Heber: Someday I’ll be a bookkeeper at the bank too!
Friend 2: You’d better learn how to write. Your writing looks like lightning struck the ink bottle.
Friend 1: It’s worse than hen tracks!
Heber worked on his handwriting until it was beautiful.
To earn money, he wrote greeting cards, wedding cards, and legal documents. He was offered a large amount of money to be a professional penman in the state of California, but he didn’t take the job.
Eventually, Heber reached his goal of working at the bank. He also became a penmanship teacher at a university.

A few years ago several friends from institute and I planned a two-day backpacking trip. We were experienced campers, quite familiar with the areas we would be traveling in and well equipped for most situations. We would soon learn, however, that without the guidance of the Holy Ghost our gear and knowledge would have been next to useless.
A few days before our trip the sky was clear and the temperatures were moderate. Our destination was Mount Chocorua in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. While it is true that the mountains of our region do not boast summits as high as those found in other parts of the world, the elevation gain from trailhead to summit is often quite substantial, and New England is known for its highly unpredictable weather.
The day before our departure it started to rain. Normally this would not concern me; it often rained as we hiked. This time, however, I felt a growing sense of unease. I checked the forecast—light showers, nothing more. Still, I felt very uncomfortable as the evening progressed. The feeling grew as I prepared for bed, read my scriptures, and said my prayers.
Finally I went to my pack and pulled out my guide map of the White Mountain National Forest. As I located Mount Chocorua on the map, my sense of unease doubled. It was so intense I considered calling off the trip, but that didn’t feel right either. I found another mountain we had on our list to climb and immediately felt better. After a prayer I felt good about this new destination. My only concern was possibly disappointing my friend Glenn, who had put much effort into planning this trip.
The next morning it was still raining lightly. After we all arrived at our departure point, I voiced my concerns and told my friends of my prayers and feelings. To my relief, two others had had the same feelings, and Glenn was more than willing to change mountains. We then prayed and asked the Lord to watch over us in our travels and to help us make the right decisions. We all felt comfortable with our new plans and departed.
Although the rain continued, our drive and climb passed without incident. After dinner the rain stopped and the clouds broke, revealing a beautiful sunset. Our spirits lifted, and we went to bed.
At midnight we were awakened by an intense electrical storm that lasted most of the night. While the rain, wind, and lightning were heavy where we were, we felt no impending danger. The lightning was far worse to the east where, from my vantage point, it was striking a particular area nearly every second and continued to do so for at least an hour. Glad that I was not there, I drifted back to sleep. The remainder of the trip was wet but passed safely and was very enjoyable.
A few days later I attended an institute cookout. All those who had gone on the backpacking trip were there. When Glenn arrived he had a curious look on his face. He showed us a section of a guidebook for the White Mountains. It stated that while Mount Chocorua is not as elevated as its neighbors, its bald face and position make it dangerous as one of the mountains in North America most frequently struck by lightning. We also confirmed that the area we saw bombarded by lightning was the Chocorua area.
How grateful we were that we were warned by the Holy Ghost not to go there at that time.

On 8 October 2024, 31 young single adults from Papua New Guinea arrived in Tonga to attend the Nuku‘alofa Tonga Temple for the first time. The group included two full-time missionaries serving in the Papua New Guinea Lae Mission and most of the others have received or are waiting to receive mission calls.
They were warmly welcomed at the airport with traditional candy leis by former Lae mission leaders, Sitiveni and Kilisitina Fehoko (2016–2019), as well as several returned missionaries who served in Papua New Guinea.
After receiving their own endowments, the young adults lovingly performed proxy baptisms, initiatory, and endowments for their grandparents and other ancestors. They finished their temple service with a final sealing session, linking and uniting generations with eternal sealing power.
The young single adults had researched family names in anticipation of doing temple work for their deceased relatives.
In the evenings, they were met by Elder Sione Tuione, an Area Seventy as well as former mission leaders in New Guinea including Isileli and Milika Fatani, (Papua New Guinea Lae Mission 2019–2022), Mosese and Akanesi Naeata (Papua New Guinea Port Moresby Mission 1997–2000), and the Fehokos who offered powerful messages of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and eternal families.
The Fatanis and Fehokos provided delicious Tongan feasts and local wards hosted dances each evening, which the young adults loved.
The young adults also enjoyed an afternoon of sightseeing and shopping. Several of them received dental care at the Church’s dental clinic at Liahona High School.
The hearts of the children turning to their fathers were evident in their words, which they recorded in journals given to each of them.
Channolyn George – “When I saw the temple, the tears dropped from my eyes. I felt heartbroken, thinking back to my country, my province, my ward, the members, my family, my loved ones, and all those not yet members. In my heart and my mind, I hope one day my family and all these people will be here as now I’m here.”
Sonia Maranghi – “I did the endowment for my father’s mother, and I realized that she was very excited that I performed her ordinances, which she longed for. I couldn’t hold my tears anymore and cried while sitting in the celestial glory of the living God.”
Delilah Kum – “The house of the Lord is the temple. When you enter . . . you will feel the Spirit. I know that families can be sealed together for eternity.”
Mathias Inum – “When I came to the temple, I knew that I was there to receive the light of Christ. When I return to Papua New Guinea, I am going to show this light to everyone and be a light to this world.”
Dodo Miul – “I am in Tonga for my temple endowment. I am very happy to be here to save my ancestors who have already passed. I know that they have been in the spirit world smiling away and waiting to receive this. I am so grateful for these temple experiences.”
These wonderful young single adults from Papua New Guinea are eagerly waiting to attending the temple again when the Port Moresby Papua New Guinea Temple construction will be complete.

By Jacqueline Wittwer
When water poured into the basement of the Congregational Church one Sunday after days of heavy rain, Yarmouth Branch members stopped their sacrament meeting and hurried to the basement to save furniture, books, and other valuables from ruin. David Quinn and his friend Marc Johnson—still in their Sunday best—jumped in, literally, to help.
They were laughing and having a wonderful time, even though their clothes were soaked through. What mattered was that a job needed to be done. They made the best of a bad situation. They helped me see the importance of a good attitude through life’s daily challenges.

In December 2012, LaVell underwent open-heart surgery. Just after the operation, while still connected to tubes and groggy from the anesthesia, LaVell struggled to say, “Patti, be sure to call the bishop and tell him we can’t make it to tithing settlement, but tell him we are full tithe payers.”

They walked the walk of honor and commitment, understanding that “Cougars, it’s up to you.” Here was one of the most successful coaches in the history of college football humbly demonstrating his commitment to the principle of tithing just moments after major surgery.

Together, Patti and LaVell demonstrated to all of us obedience, integrity, and faithfulness. They lived the Savior’s teaching to “seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you” (3 Nephi 13:33).

While he was attending a religious boarding school in Nigeria, Elder I. Raymond Egbo’s older sister kept inviting him to “come and see” what The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had to offer. At 14 years old, he started going to seminary in the evenings.
While reading the seminary course of study, Elder Egbo came to Doctrine and Covenants 135 and the martyrdom of Joseph Smith.
“Something powerfully touched me, and I knew that the Prophet Joseph Smith was a prophet of God. I knew he was killed for the truth,” said Elder Egbo, who soon joined the Church. “I still feel right now how I felt that day when I read it.”
Later, while he was a university student, his sister encouraged him to serve a mission. Their father was angry with him for leaving his studies, but Elder Egbo regularly wrote him letters describing everything he was doing and what he was teaching.
To Elder Egbo’s amazement, near the end of his mission, his mission president read to him a letter from his father that said he had been baptized. “Tell him I will be waiting for him,” his father wrote.

When I was 16, my mom allowed me to meet with the missionaries but told me I could never get baptized. I laughed. I didn’t need her to tell me that. I already knew I didn’t want to be baptized.
I first met the missionaries only to be polite. A friend asked me if I would be interested in talking with them, and I agreed because I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
I kept meeting with the missionaries but didn’t take their lessons seriously, because I knew baptism wasn’t an option for me.
When the missionaries eventually invited me to be baptized, I said my mom wouldn’t allow it. My friend’s dad suggested we fast and ask Heavenly Father to help soften her heart.
I wasn’t convinced that fasting would change my mom’s heart, but I agreed to try. My friend’s family, the missionaries, and I all fasted for my mom to allow me to be baptized.
Shortly after our fast, my mom and I were having dinner together. Out of nowhere, she turned to me and said, “You know, if you want to get baptized, that’s your decision.”
I couldn’t believe what I’d heard.
She repeated herself. “You can get baptized.”
I was terrified. I could no longer use my mom as an excuse not to be baptized. I actually had to make the decision on my own. I started listening to the missionaries with an open mind.
When I started listening to the missionary lessons with real intent, I began to feel God’s love. It came as a feeling of peace and reassurance. Because of the love I felt for Him, I couldn’t bear the thought of being unclean before Him. I was willing to give up everything that was not in line with the commandments of God.
I remember thinking, “I wish I could redo my life.”
So when my friend casually mentioned that baptism was like being born again (see Mosiah 27:25), I could barely contain my excitement. I knew what I needed to do.
I was baptized and have since served a mission in Canada to help other people find the same joy I found in the gospel of Jesus Christ.
The joy I felt when I got baptized wasn’t a one-time feeling. I still feel that peaceful, clean feeling every time I pray for forgiveness.

In 1997, while building a deck on my home, I received a call from a stake president who resides in Argentina. He had dropped by the athletic department and wanted to visit with me about our swimming program and the possibility of athletic scholarships for swimmers from his stake. I told him that I was quite dirty from the construction project I was working on, but if he would come to my home on Sunday, I would be glad to visit with him.

When he arrived he brought with him a young former bishop from his stake who was at that time doing graduate work at BYU and was to act as his translator. A few days earlier we had participated in a sesquicentennial celebration of the arrival of the Saints into Utah. The celebration took place at what is now LaVell Edwards Stadium, and President Hinckley was in attendance and spoke to us. At the end of the evening all the missionaries from the MTC marched into the stadium. It was an electrifying moment for all of us as we realized that we have enough missionaries around the world to fill that stadium. When I asked my visitors if they had been able to attend the celebration, the young bishop responded that it was a direct fulfillment of his patriarchal blessing. He stated that his blessing received many years earlier had specified that he would study abroad and that he would behold an “army of God.” As the missionaries marched in, he realized that that specific blessing had been fulfilled.

While I was serving my first mission to Mexico and Central America, my companion and I received a very interesting final assignment from our mission president. He asked us to leave the mission home and go down to a town in Southern Mexico, where some months before missionaries had been withdrawn due to religious and political persecution. Their lives had been threatened by mobs. A few converts had been baptized, but a real organization of the Church had not been established. As a result, these new members had been left alone, and for months the mission president heard little about how things were going.

We were given a list of names and asked by the mission president to go there, find the people, see how they were doing, and, if possible, locate a place where we could quietly conduct a sacrament meeting. For all those months, they had not had the privilege we take so much for granted of partaking of the sacrament each week.

We arrived early in the morning and immediately searched for the address of the first name on the list. We located her address and passed through a door in a high adobe wall that surrounded a crowded cluster of tiny huts around a central area.

It seemed that everyone there was watching us. Back in the corner was a little grass-thatched hut. The sister we were looking for came to the door, saw us, and easily recognized by our dress that we were missionaries. With tears in her eyes, she rushed to us and greeted us with a hug. We identified ourselves and told her why we were there.

After this brief greeting, she went back into her hut and brought out a clay jar into which she put her hand and withdrew some money she had been saving for months. Even though she had been alone without any Church organization, she had been saving her tithing with faith and hope that someday her tithing would be taken to the appropriate place.

She obviously had many unmet needs; yet, she was handing us money. My first impression was not to accept it and to encourage her to spend it wherever she might need it. Then I realized that it was not my right to do so because she was obeying a commandment. She had gained a testimony that tithing is a divine commandment and was willing to live that principle—even when she was alone.

We need the courage to live up to our standards, especially when there is no one around to check up on us. Then, regardless of where we are, away from home for the first time, in college, in a social setting where there are all kinds of temptations, or any place else—we can stand up for that which we know is true and live consistently with our ideals.