Perfecting the Saints — One Lesson at a Time
Building with Ancestors By June Brown – Friend Aug 1998 Shalt thou build me an house for me to dwell in? (2 Sam. 7:5.) The Vernal Utah Temple is built largely within the walls of the former Vernal Utah Uintah Stake Tabernacle, constructed in 1907. Thus, one of the newest temples was built, in part, by faithful Saints long dead. In a happy mingling of the old and new, children…
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Daniel pushed the handcart with all his strength. His arms and legs shook from the effort. He saw sweat run like tears down Jane’s face as his sister pushed beside him, while their parents strained to pull the handcart. He saw his mother’s mouth moving and her eyes shut, and he knew that she was praying for strength. The last few weeks had been difficult. The food supplies were low….
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“Say the word temple. Say it quietly and reverently. Say it over and over again. Temple. Temple. Temple. Add the word holy. Holy Temple. And you say it as though it were capitalized, no matter where it appears in the sentence. Temple. One other word is equal in importance to a Latter-day Saint. Home. Put the words holy temple and home together, and you have described what a temple is….
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A lovely young lady told the following story at a stake conference. She said, “I am a convert from upstate New York. My parents wanted their children to have eternal marriages. There were no Latter-day Saint members to marry in our little branch, so our family moved to Utah. “Eventually I found myself a husband. He was the president of the local motorcycle club and wore a black leather jacket…
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Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. (Matt. 22:39.) One morning while the Prophet Joseph Smith was visiting with a group of men in front of his house in Nauvoo, a man came up and reported that the house of a poor brother who lived some distance from town had burned down the night before. All of the men said they felt sorry for the man. But the Prophet put…
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Vincent Poulaert (11) did not always know that Jesus Christ is the Savior, that He and Heavenly Father love him, and that his prayers would be answered. But he knows it now. Early each morning the Poulaert family reads the scriptures together. Last year they were reading from the Book of Mormon. One day they read about Jesus Christ calling the little children to Him. Sister Poulaert loves this passage…
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Eleven-year-old Rebecca stared out the bus window but didn’t really see the houses passing by. The after-school bus commotion raged around her but didn’t interrupt her troubled thoughts. If I don’t get an A on the final history report, I won’t get an A in history. That means no honor roll. It’s not fair. I’ve worked hard all year long to get on the honor roll, and now, all because…
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I skipped up the dusty drive, past the gray stone houses nestled in bright purple blossoms, and into the open doorway. Mother pushed back her damp hair and set a bucket of muddy water down. It was Monday, the day she washed the walls and rinsed away the dirt that blew in with the winds. Monday was also important because of family home evening. My brothers, Chris and Trenton, and…
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I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded (1 Ne. 3:7). My name is William Paul McCallister, but everyone calls me Willy. I’m ten years old, and last year my parents decided that our family would go to general conference in Salt Lake City. We live in Calgary, Alberta, Canada, so it was a long drive for us. Then we had to stand in line a…
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(Adapted from an October 1990 general conference address. See Ensign, November 1990, pages 91–92.) With everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord thy Redeemer (3 Ne. 22:8). … Marcia had moved several times in her young years as her father’s work required it. She was now ten years old and facing another new school. Marcia’s mother could see the concern on her daughter’s face and sat…
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Mom, why do we have to pull these old weeds, anyway?” Vanessa whined, pushing back the hair from her sweaty forehead. “Weeds, weeds, weeds! It’s such a waste of time. They’ll just grow again next week, and I’ll have to pull them up all over again.” She stabbed the trowel into the dark brown soil for emphasis. Her mother smiled at eleven-year-old Vanessa’s impatience. “I wish that the garden plants…
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Timothy stares down into the warm muddy water of the plastic bucket. “What did we get?” Dad asks across the small fishing boat. Timothy gives it a little swirl. “It looks like some more dragonfly nymphs, not much else.” He passes the bucket to Christopher, who, after a quick glance, passes it to Dad. Dad takes the bucket and pours the water, mud, and nymphs into a plastic bag and…
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