Gospel Story Finder

Let me give you some background about the proclamation as a core message of what we believe.
In 1994, a year before the proclamation was presented, the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles discussed how society and governments were pulling away from God’s laws for family, marriage, and gender. “But that was not the end of what we saw,” President Russell M. Nelson later explained. “We could see the efforts of various communities to do away with all standards and limitations on sexual activity. We saw the confusion of genders. We could see it all coming.”
The Twelve determined to prepare a document, an official proclamation, summarizing the Church’s position on family. During that year, these Apostles, seers called of God, prepared a declaration about the family. President Dallin H. Oaks recalled they prayerfully turned to the Lord for “what [they] should say and how [they] should say it.” They presented it to the First Presidency—Presidents Howard W. Hunter, Gordon B. Hinckley, and Thomas S. Monson—for their consideration.
Just months later, in March 1995, President Hunter passed away, and President Hinckley became the 15th President of the Church. The proclamation was now in his hands. When would be the right time to make this declaration to the Church? That time came six months later.
Days before the September 23 general Relief Society meeting that preceded general conference, President Hinckley and his counselors met in counsel with the Relief Society General Presidency. The sisters, like the Apostles, had been weighing concerns about women and families. They had focused the upcoming meeting on families.
President Hinckley was scheduled to address the women at the gathering. He had been pondering the direction of his remarks. As the discussion progressed, he referred by name to the newly created but not yet public “The Family: A Proclamation to the World.” Was this women’s meeting the right setting to make the decisive declaration about family?
Relief Society General President Elaine Jack later explained: “We didn’t know what the proclamation on the family was at that time. … [W]e could tell by the title, but we felt anything on the family … would be a positive thing. … I felt very positive that we had members of the Quorum of the Twelve that were receiving revelation.”
The Relief Society meeting that Saturday was historic. President Hinckley introduced the family proclamation with these important words: “With so much of sophistry that is passed off as truth, with so much of deception concerning standards and values, with so much of allurement and enticement to take on the slow stain of the world, we have felt to warn and forewarn … of standards, doctrines, and practices relative to the family which the prophets, seers, and revelators of this church have repeatedly stated throughout its history.”
He then read the proclamation in its entirety. As the Lord has said, “Whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same.”

An American Indian, George Crum, is believed to have invented the potato chip. One day when he was working as a chef in a hotel restaurant in Saratoga Springs, New York, a guest at the hotel sent his plate back to the kitchen, complaining that the fried potatoes were too thick. George felt insulted. “I’ll show him what thin is,” he fumed.
With that the chef cut a potato into paper-thin slices. Then he dropped them into a vat of boiling oil to cook. After removing the slices from the oil, he sprinkled them with salt and sent the dish of crisp chips out to the guest.
To the chef’s surprise, the man loved the chips, and so “Saratoga Chips” were born. Soon many people in the area were selling them.

Going to prom was something I’d dreamed about since I was a little girl. Now my dream was about to be a reality.

Several of my friends and I went dress shopping together. I was the only member of the Church among my friends, and I soon realized it would be impossible to find a modest dress that fit my standards. There was no doubt that having sleeves would make me stand out from all the other young women at the dance. Plus, where I lived, there were not many modest dresses for sale. I didn’t know what to do.

Luckily, my cousin had a beautiful, modest ball gown I was able to borrow. I was nervous about what others would think, but I had confidence in knowing I was doing the right thing.

I stood out at prom that year because I was the only young woman with sleeves on my dress. It didn’t matter what others thought; I was beautiful in the eyes of the Lord. That night I had a blast, and wearing that dress made me feel like royalty. And I was! I was confident in knowing I was a daughter of a King, and I was making Him proud.

The next year, Christmas was not so happy. We sat around solemn-faced after opening our presents. Finally Ron said, “Let’s go get wood.”
Nothing more needed to be said. We all got our coats, hats, and gloves and headed out the door. Again we were getting wood for a widow. But this time it was our mother. It wasn’t that we needed the wood; it meant something deeper. Two weeks before Christmas my dad had died. He left seven children to be raised by my mother.
I suppose because of one act of kindness and the lessons my dad taught his boys, he assured that his wife would never go without wood. We not only got wood for our mother, but often we would get it for other widows. On many Christmases, after we opened our presents, my brothers and I would go out and cut wood for one of the widows. Though it was never spoken openly between us, we were all doing it in memory of our father.

Normally, ten-year-old Tatiana was asleep well before her babushka (great-grand-mother). However, tonight she was worried. No matter how hard she had tried, Tatiana could not get Babushka’s eyes to smile.
Tatiana snuggled deeper into her bed on the living-room couch and wrapped the blanket more tightly around her. She even covered her ears to see if that would help muffle the sound of Babushka’s snoring. Tatiana knew she was lucky to share the living room with only Babushka. Most nights, her snoring didn’t bother Tatiana. But tonight she wanted to think, and the snoring made it hard to concentrate. She peeked out from under the blanket to see the dim outlines of the flowers on the ceiling. She thought Mama was very clever to put wallpaper on the ceiling.
However, the flowers did not make Babushka’s eyes smile. In fact, Babushka thought the wallpaper was a waste of money. Tatiana remembered scrubbing the beets to help her make borscht. While Babushka had stirred the soup, she said, “Yanichka (Little Tatiana), you could have had new shoes and a dress for less than the wallpaper cost. I want you to have the things that you love.”
“But I do love having a garden to look at when I lie on the couch,” Tatiana had replied.
Tatiana did not remember when Babushka had stopped smiling with her eyes. But once Tatiana had noticed it, she did everything she could think of to make her great-grandmother happy. She worked hard at school, helped peel potatoes, cleaned the bathroom without being asked, drew pictures of mountains and trees, sang happy songs, and tried to obey. Everyone noticed and smiled at Tatiana. Babushka smiled too, but only with her lips. She still was not truly happy.
Although she thought she would never go to sleep, the night seemed short when the sun peeked through the window and awakened her. How lovely Sundays were—everyone could sleep until it was light. And today Tatiana was going to her friend Katya’s apartment, where some American men and some neighbors would be holding a church meeting. Tatiana had never been to church before; in fact, no one at home ever talked about God at all since it had been forbidden for so many years. But now that Ukraine was an independent nation and had new laws, people were going back to church. Tatiana had been afraid her parents would not let her go, but she had begged for permission. They gave their consent, somewhat reluctantly, saying that going to church would not likely hurt her.
Then, before she left, Papa had pulled her aside. “Yanichka, remember when we saw the puppet show of Peter Pan in Donetsk? Remember when Tinker Bell was dying, and we had to clap to show that we believed in fairies?”
“Yes, and I cried.”
“Right!” Papa said. “I told you the story played with your emotions. The author made you cry on purpose. Religious teachers will work on your emotions, too. They want to make you think you believe what they say.”
“Papa, I won’t believe what they say just because they say it is so. I will pay close attention to what I know is true.”
“Good!” Papa patted Tatiana’s hand. She knew what Papa had said was important—she could not remember ever having such a serious talk with him before.
It was different with Mama. They often had important talks, and this time Mama wanted to warn Tatiana, too.
“Zaichik (Little Rabbit), you must not make any promises. They will try to get you to do so. Don’t make any promises. You come talk to me.”
“OK, Mama. No promises.”
“But you must be polite, always courteous. And here”—Mama reached in her apron pocket and pulled out a kopeck (a coin)—“they will pass a box to put money in. You must have money for the box.”
Tatiana patted her pocket that held the kopeck as she ran down the stairs. Soon she was welcomed into Katya’s apartment. She was surprised to see about fifteen people in the room. The Shushkevich family had borrowed a few stools and had pushed their own furniture against the walls to make room. Some people were sitting on the floor talking quietly and happily. The Americans were there. They were about twenty years old, and Tatiana thought Elder Samson looked very kind.
Elder Tanner stood up and called for everyone to be quiet; he talked with a foreign accent. “Brothers and Sisters, it is good to be together again. Let’s sing ‘Count Your Blessings,’ and then Brother Shushkevich will give the opening prayer.”
Tatiana was surprised that Katya’s papa knew how to pray, and she wondered why they called him “Brother Shushkevich.” But she liked the song. Part way through it, a nice warm feeling came over her; she felt as if she had been away from home and had just returned. As the meeting continued, no one tried to work her emotions. She wasn’t asked to make any promises, and nobody passed a box for her kopeck.
After the last hymn and prayer, Tatiana ran back up the stairs and down the corridor to her own apartment.
“Mama, I liked church. May I go again?”
“Perhaps. I’ll talk to Katya’s mama first.”
Tatiana decided not to plead; it didn’t seem wise. However, as the week progressed, she thought of ways to persuade Mama to let her go.
The next Sunday morning, Tatiana awoke early. She could hear Babushka snoring softly across the room and her parents talking quietly on the other side of the wall. Tatiana knew that they were still in bed. It made her feel safe, and she snuggled deeper under her blanket.
Suddenly Tatiana had a wonderful thought. She slipped out of bed and hurried to her parents’ room. “Mama, Papa,” she whispered. “I just have to go to church today—I want to take Babushka with me! Please say yes.”
Later Tatiana led Babushka into Katya’s living room and helped her to a chair. Elders Samson and Tanner came to welcome them. Babushka was pleased and smiled politely at them. Several neighbors came to greet Babushka before the meeting started. Then Elder Samson announced the song: “I Am a Child of God.”
Good! Tatiana thought. I learned it last week. I can sing, too.
The music swelled. Everyone sang in unison and with enthusiasm. The music reverberated around the room and into Tatiana’s heart. She looked at her great-grandmother and was surprised to see that she was crying. Alarmed, Tatiana reached for her hand. Babushka took her hand, squeezed it, and smiled. Then Tatiana saw something wonderful: Babushka’s eyes were smiling! Tears ran down her cheeks, but her eyes smiled.
Babushka leaned toward Tatiana. “I remember! I remember when I went to church as a little girl. I always loved going to church. It is good—so good.”

My aunt and uncle live on a tiny island in the Caribbean in a part of the world known as “Hurricane Alley.” In 2004 our family learned that Hurricane Ivan was heading straight for their home. My aunt had evacuated to Florida, but my uncle stayed to weather the storm in a bunker that he’d built in the middle of the island and that they always kept supplied with emergency essentials.
Hurricane Ivan slammed into the small island with the full force of a category-5 hurricane. The winds traveled at over 200 miles per hour (322 km/h). And during the worst of the storm, the entire island was completely covered with water—it even disappeared from satellite.
When the storm was over, my uncle emerged from the bunker and looked out to see complete and utter destruction. He slowly walked toward his home on the coast, and his heart sank as he looked at all of the houses that had been destroyed. He was dreading what he’d find when he arrived home.
As he came around the curve, he anxiously looked and saw, amid the devastation, his lone house completely intact and standing tall. The lights were on because his generator had survived too.
When we asked him how his house had survived when the others fell, he told us his strategy for success. When he’d built the house, he’d bored and anchored the foundation into the bedrock 20 feet down. Even a hurricane could not destroy the strong foundation my uncle had built.

It was 1888 and winter in Colonia Juarez, Mexico, and the Romneys were near starvation. Miles, Catherine’s husband, had been gone for several months, trying to find work elsewhere; and despite Catherine’s care and thrift, their food was almost gone. Prayerfully she considered her alternatives and then sent her twelve-year-old son, Thomas, and her fourteen-year-old son, George, hunting. Neither boy had ever fired a gun, and sending them alone into the mountain wilderness placed them in some jeopardy, but starvation was a reality. They took the family’s .44 Winchester rifle and enthusiastically went up Spring Creek.
About 1 1/2 kilometers up the creek they suddenly saw a large buck standing broadside about 70 meters away. Excitedly, George aimed and fired. Curiously, the buck turned his head and looked at them, apparently puzzled by the noise. The second shot struck him exactly between the eyes, even though George had aimed at the deer’s middle.
After their excitement subsided, they realized that they had no knife and no way of getting the buck home. George ran home for a knife while Thomas stood guard—not an easy task since he was barefoot and had to keep running and walking so that his feet would not freeze.
It was snowing by the time George returned with their two younger brothers, ages ten and eleven, all barefooted. They weren’t strong enough to cut up the animal, so they started dragging it home, six kilometers away. They had to rest every few meters; and even when Catherine joined them a little later, their progress was still slow. It was with real gratitude that they looked up to see a neighbor, Helaman Pratt, riding towards them with a pack mule. He had heard the shot and had come to help.
At the evening meal they feasted on the sweetest venison any had ever eaten.
This story became cherished by the family, told and retold to the children and grandchildren—among them grandchild Camilla Eyring, who would one day marry Spencer W. Kimball.

Elder Higgins had been a musical theater major in college before his mission. My first day in the area had been a prep day and while we were doing our laundry, Elder Higgins sang songs from Oklahoma to the ladies in the laundromat. They loved it. He made five appointments while our clothes were drying. He sometimes sang to people at doors. I was just a little more reserved with people—shy and scared were more descriptive.

After the initial strain and misunderstandings that stemmed from my conversion to the Church, my family members and I learned to apply tolerance and respect in our relationships with each other. For example, once I became a Latter-day Saint, I participated in different Sunday activities. Instead of playing soccer, I attended church. When my family members realized why I changed my Sunday activities, they showed understanding and respect. In the same way, I was respectful of their traditions. For instance, I did not criticize my parents for not having family prayer. Mutual respect has been very important in our family.

Years ago when I was serving as a bishop, a recently converted family moved into our rural Utah community. These good people had joined the Church in the eastern United States and had been warmly fellowshipped and put to work in a small branch there. When they came to our larger, more-established ward, they somehow slipped through the cracks. Some of the family members, particularly the father, became disenchanted with the Church and its members.
One Sunday morning when I noticed the father was missing from priesthood meeting, I left the meetinghouse and drove to his home. He invited me in, and we had a very honest conversation about the struggle he was having with his new faith and neighbors. After exploring various possibilities for responding to his concerns, none of which seemed to appeal to him very much, I asked him with a tone of frustration in my voice just what we could do to help him. I’ve never forgotten his reply:
“Well, bishop,” he said (and I will need to paraphrase here slightly), “for heaven’s sake, whatever you do, please don’t assign me a friend.”
I learned a great lesson that day. No one wants to become a “project”; we all want spontaneously to be loved. And, if we are to have friends, we want them to be genuine and sincere, not “assigned.”

When the doors to the van were opened, the noise level inside rose considerably. The yapping puppies competed for attention from the two young boys who climbed inside. One boy poked his fingers through the wire mesh of a cage and let the puppy inside lick them, but his eyes kept searching the cages trying to read the name tags on the dogs’ collars.
“Here she is,” he said to his brother behind him. They both turned their attention to a butterball golden retriever puppy.
“Hi, Blanche.” The puppy squirmed with excitement, standing on hind legs with front paws against the side of the cage.
Luke Fausett, 12, bent down to get a better look at the puppy. Scott Fausett, 15, the older of the two brothers, leaned over to see the pup, the fourth one his family would raise as a guide dog, and said, “Her name starts with a B. All the dogs whose names start with B are from the same litter.”
Blanche didn’t care what her name meant, but Luke and Scott knew that she would soon learn to respond to it when she was called. They hoped that she would learn all they could teach her and be smart and goodtempered enough to be accepted into training as a guide dog.
Scott Fausett from Bluebell, Utah, is the president of Utah State Guide Dogs, a 4-H program where young members raise puppies for 12 months in preparation for the dogs’ training as guide dogs. The 12-week-old puppies are provided by a nonprofit organization called Guide Dogs for the Blind, Inc. The young people love the puppies and care for them, and it is because of this love that the dogs are prepared to love and serve as eyes for a blind person.
“It makes me feel good to do this for some person who isn’t as fortunate as we are,” says Scott.
Scott learned about raising guide dogs at an assembly at school. “The speaker brought three dogs to give a demonstration. I thought it would be neat to raise one. I went home and asked Mom and Dad, and they said they would have to talk about it. Mom went to a guide dog meeting one day, and they decided to let me try it.”
Scott’s mother, Kay, had some reservations. “I was leery at first because it is such a commitment. The dog has to be in the house and sleep right beside the child’s bed at night. But we’ve loved the experience. We take the dog everywhere, to visit Grandma, to family reunions, to the grocery store, or whenever we come to town.”
It is an important part of the dog’s training to become used to lots of different people, situations, noise, and traffic. And in a large, happy family like the Fausett’s, the dogs get used to lots of attention and lots of distractions.
When Scott and Luke raise a puppy, they spend several hours each day feeding and grooming it and teaching it to obey commands. With both boys involved, they trade off responsibilities each week. “We have to teach the puppy its name, and we have to housebreak it,” says Scott. “When the puppy comes to us, it has never had a collar on. We teach it basic obedience like sit, stay, down, heel, come, and fetch. We socialize it and get it used to being with people all the time.
“Then when it is about ten months old, it has to pass a test and be completely housebroken before we take it to school or church or stores,” Scott explains. “When we take the dogs into stores or restaurants, we get permission from the owners first; then we have the dogs wear a jacket that identifies them as guide dogs in training.”
Scott usually takes the dog he is raising to school several times, and regularly takes it to stores. The dog is extremely well behaved and simply lies down beside Scott’s desk during class and stays close to Scott on a leash while in a store.
It’s not always easy to take the dog places when other people don’t understand that it is being trained. “It’s hard,” Scott says. “People laugh at you sometimes. ‘You have a dog in school!’ Some think it’s neat, but the jokers think it’s funny to pull the dog’s tail.” Scott gives his dogs lots of different experiences so the dogs are prepared to handle these types of situations while working as guides.
After a little more than a year, when the dog is approaching 18 months old, the puppy raisers return the dogs to Guide Dogs for the Blind for an additional six months of training. This is both a sad and hopeful time. The dog has become a member of the family, and the puppy raisers are sorry to see it leave home. But now the dogs are ready to be trained for their life’s work. And the family members hope that their dog will pass with flying colors. Only 50 percent of the puppies raised are found suitable to become guide dogs.
The dogs are checked to see that they aren’t too small or too large to be guide dogs. They are checked to see how they react to loud noises and the distractions of children and traffic. And they are checked to be sure they are not too aggressive or too shy.
If a dog is rejected from guide dog training, the family who raised it is allowed first choice to keep it. If the family does not choose to keep the dog, a waiting list is kept by the organization of families hoping for a dog, since dogs rejected from the guide dog program make such nice, well-trained family pets.
Gauntlet, a dog Scott and Luke raised, is presently going through guide dog training. Scott and Luke hope they don’t hear anything from the training center for a while; since a phone call now would only mean there was a problem with his training. Tiger, another dog that Scott raised, was rejected because of physical problems with his front legs. Scott was at the training center in California when he found out that Tiger would not be accepted as a guide dog. “That was a sad time when Tiger didn’t make it,” says Scott. “I had to call the family and tell them.”
Jenny, a golden Lab, the first dog Scott raised, was accepted as a guide dog, has completed her training, and has been matched to a blind owner, Gene. Scott attended Jenny’s graduation from the training center and met Gene. Since then, Scott and Gene have become good friends, occasionally visiting in person but most often communicating by mail or over the telephone.
Getting to know the man who has been directly helped by the family’s efforts in raising a puppy has encouraged Scott and his family to continue raising guide dogs. “One thing that has helped is Gene’s being in touch with Scott and knowing the good that we are doing,” says Kay Fausett. “He and Jenny have really become a part of our family. He is really appreciative, and it helps us to think of that when the time comes to return another dog we have grown to love. We keep reminding ourselves how special this dog will become to a blind person.”
Scott has some advice on how people should act when they meet someone with a guide dog. “If the guide dog is in harness, people shouldn’t bother the dog. It is working. The dogs are very protective of their owners, so you shouldn’t pet the dog unless you ask the owner first. However, most people like to talk about their dogs and are usually pleased to let people pet them.”
Being involved in raising guide dogs has had some profound effects on Scott. Kit Stevens, a past Utah State Guide Dog Chairman, says, “Scott is a tremendous kid. He loves guide dogs, and he is totally devoted. He is inventive, creating new programs. He is organized and does many things on his own.”
Scott’s mother has noticed a change too. “He’s become more independent, more confident, more able to speak to groups. He was quite shy, but now he can go anywhere and speak to anyone and feel comfortable.” His dad, Lewis, adds teasingly, “Sometimes I get perturbed because he is so involved. He’s very dedicated.”
Scott was asked to give a talk in his sacrament meeting in the Bluebell Ward, Altamont Utah Stake. He chose to talk about his involvement in raising guide dogs. He read the scripture, “For behold, it is not meet that I should command in all things; … Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their own free will, and bring to pass much righteousness” (D&C 58:26–27). Scott explained that raising puppies to be guide dogs is a way he can help others. It’s a good cause that takes lots of time and daily devotion. Scott explains, “Kennel dogs won’t make it as guide dogs because the puppies have to be raised with love. We don’t really have to worry about teaching them, but our responsibility is to love and care for them.”
Blanche is playing with her leash and begging to be petted as Scott sits talking about guide dogs. He remembers Jenny, the first puppy he raised. “Gene wrote to me,” says Scott absentmindedly scratching Blanche behind one floppy ear. “He wrote that now he feels secure because of Jenny. He called me on the day he had had Jenny for one year to thank me for raising her and tell me how much he loves her. I like knowing that something I’ve done has helped someone who needs it.”

An experience that I had on my mission shows how Heavenly Father watches over us. My companion and I had just taught and baptized a family in Leeds, England. Then we were transferred to Bradford, about a half-hour bus trip away. One day, my companion and I were getting ready to visit some missionaries in our district, but it seemed like we just could not get out the door. Each time we left, we realized that we had forgotten something.

After returning three times, we thought, Maybe there’s some reason we should stay here. We sat down, and within a few minutes, the phone rang. It was the mother of the family we had baptized in Leeds. She was very ill, and she needed us to come give her a blessing. We immediately left for the bus stop, where the bus was just about to leave. When we changed buses, we again caught our bus very quickly. When we arrived, the woman was so sick that she was shivering badly, and we couldn’t even understand her words. My companion and I gave her a blessing, and as I said the words, we both felt so much strength leave us that we had to sit down for almost ten minutes. During that time, she was able to stand, go to her kitchen, and prepare something for the three of us to drink. When we left half an hour later, she was completely healed and waved to us at the door. Not all priesthood blessings are answered so quickly and happily, but we were overjoyed for it to happen to this good sister.

This is the story behind the painting:
“In Missouri in 1862, the 14-year-old Mary Wanlass promised her dying stepmother that she would see to it that her disabled father [and her four much younger siblings would all make] it to the Valley of the Great Salt Lake. … Mary drove the oxen and milk cows that pulled the wagon, in which her father [was bedridden, and] she cared for her … siblings. After each day’s journey, she fed the family by foraging edible plants, flowers, and berries. Her only compass was the instruction she had received to keep traveling west ‘until the clouds become mountains.’
“They reached [the] Utah Valley in September, having traveled all spring and summer. Her father died not long after the family settled in Utah County, where Mary later married and raised her [own] family.”

“As an investigator, I came across an old copy of the Book of Mormon that was yellowed and musty with age. Its jacket was stiff, as if it had never been touched,” says Janet Spear of South Glens Falls, New York. “But as I picked it up, I was filled with tremendous joy, and a peaceful feeling of relief washed over me. That day I began to read the Book of Mormon for the very first time. My soul was starving for spiritual food, and I began to feast upon the words.
“The passage cried out to me as I read Alma 13:27: ‘Cast off your sins, and [do] not procrastinate the day of your repentance.’ Driven to my knees, I poured out my soul in prayer. In my heart the Holy Spirit said, ‘This journey has ended. It’s time to begin another.’
“I arranged to have the missionaries teach me the gospel. It was wonderful. I had never known such joy! Since the day I was baptized, the Book of Mormon has been my constant companion. It encourages me, inspires me, and teaches me. Its words have shown me how to live, not simply to exist. I truly experienced a metamorphosis.”

When my parents first told us that we would be moving from Utah to Georgia, I was very nervous. I didn’t want to leave my home, my extended family, or my friends. We knelt down as a family and asked Heavenly Father to bless us with comfort during our move and to help us find friends. I felt the Spirit, and I knew everything would be OK.
Moving across the country took four long days! We drove from Utah through Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Illinois, Kentucky, Tennessee, and finally into Georgia. Georgia is completely different from Utah. Utah has beautiful mountains and deserts, cold winters and hot, dry summers. Georgia is very green with tall trees and plants that cover everything. Birds sing in the forest, and frogs croak in the creek behind our new house. My two homes couldn’t be more different. But do you know what is not different? The gospel!
The day after we moved in, we went to our new ward. It was fast Sunday. I was feeling a little shy when we walked into sacrament meeting for the very first time. But everyone was so nice and made us feel so welcome, just like my ward back in Utah. They bore testimonies of Heavenly Father and Jesus and the Book of Mormon. I even got up and bore my testimony that Heavenly Father helps us through our trials. I know He blessed me to find peace in our new home. Before too long I felt like I had always been a part of our new ward. I made many new friends.
I still miss my friends in Utah, but I love my new home in Georgia. I am thankful that Heavenly Father blessed me with such a beautiful place to live and with my new ward family and friends!

A second reason we share the First Vision early in our missionary conversations is that honest truth-seekers can relate to and find inspiration from Joseph Smith’s search for Christ’s true church. My wife had an experience shortly before we were married that illustrates this powerfully.
She was working at a part-time job at Brigham Young University and met a student who was the only Church member in her family. When my wife asked about her conversion story, she explained:
“When I was about 14 or 15 years old, I began to wonder which church was true and felt compelled to find it. I attended all of the different denominations in my area, but none of them ever felt quite right. I even researched some non-Christian religions, but again I didn’t feel right, and as time went by, I almost gave up. One day I was on the internet, when I remembered that I had a friend who was a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, so I searched online and found the Church’s website. Through a link on that site, I was led to the account of the First Vision found in Joseph Smith—History. As I read it, a feeling came into my heart that let me know that Joseph’s story was my story, and he had found the answer I was seeking. In that moment, I knew that I had found the true Church of Jesus Christ.”
Shortly after, she followed Joseph Smith’s example, asked God, and received further confirmation.

Years ago, when our children were teenagers, we purchased a ski boat. A little while after we bought the boat, my two sons and I decided to venture out in it just before sunset. Out on the water, the motor suddenly spluttered for a few seconds and then cut out. The fuel gage stated we still had a quarter tank, but a quick investigation revealed that we had in fact run out of fuel. We made contact with our family onshore who arranged for a rescue party to come to our aid. We had been let down by a faulty fuel gage.
Unlike the faulty fuel gage, the old ship Zion will never let us down. Remaining on the old ship Zion, or active in and staying true to the gospel, will result in increased faith, happiness and growth.

Wilford Woodruff, as President of the Church, described his experience in the offices of the priesthood:
“I heard the first sermon I ever heard in this Church. The next day I was baptized. … I was ordained a Teacher. My mission immediately commenced. … I went through that whole mission as a Teacher. … At the conference I was ordained a Priest. … After I was ordained a Priest I was sent … on a mission to the southern country. That was in the fall of 1834. I had a companion with me, and we started out without purse and scrip. I traveled alone a good many miles and preached the Gospel, and I baptized a number that I could not confirm in the Church, because I was only a Priest. … I traveled some time preaching the Gospel before I was ordained an Elder. …
“[Now] I have been some fifty-four years a member of the Twelve Apostles. I have traveled with that and other quorums now for sixty years; and I want to say to this assembly that I was just as much sustained by the power of God while holding the office of a Teacher, and especially while officiating in the vineyard as a Priest, as I ever was as an Apostle. There is no difference in this so long as we do our duty.”

Ask for a father’s blessing. Matt had a special experience with this. Asking his dad for a blessing led him to date his now wife.

After a spiritually trying summer, Matt was eager for the fresh start that a new semester of school would bring. He asked his dad to give him a father’s blessing. In that blessing, Matt was specifically told to “listen to and counsel with” his mother. In the past, he hadn’t talked to his mom frequently while at school. That semester, however, he felt inspired to call his mom to talk about his dating life. He said that doing so helped him stay “focused on why I was dating and where I wanted my future to go.” His mom’s advice proved valuable: that semester Matt met a woman who became his wife. About this experience, he said, “I’m incredibly grateful for the worthiness and guidance of my father and the focus and direction from my mother that helped me through that time of meeting and courting my wonderful wife!”

For 17-year-old twins Titaina and Titaua Germain, from the Haumi Branch on the island of Moorea, those special missionaries are Elder Nelson and Elder Snowden. The twins, who share everything, including remarkably similar faces, said: “When the missionaries explained to us about the principles of the gospel, we were truly astounded. It was as if we had dreamed of meeting people who lived like this and a church that worked like this one.”
The twins have to wait until their 18th birthday to be baptized, but they attend all their church meetings and institute classes besides. “We were both interested from the moment we heard about the gospel from Elder Nelson and Elder Snowden,” said Titaina. Or was it Titaua? “We feel the same about things.”