Monson - Consider the blessings: true accounts of Gods hand in our lives

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

(CIP on file)

ISBN 978-1-60907-716-7

Printed in the United States of America Worzalla Publishing Company, Stevens Point, WI

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Preface

In October 1963, Thomas S. Monson became the newest member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Elder Monson soon endeared himself to congregations throughout the world with his capacity to draw meaningful lessons out of lifes experiences. The warm, memorable true accounts he has shared over the years have become a hallmark of his teaching style.

In commemoration of President Monsons fiftieth anniversary as an Apostle, Deseret Book is pleased to offer this beautifully illustrated collection of fifty of those true accounts, created in a way that will make them easy to share with the whole family and in other settings where an inspiring example might set the stage for a meaningful gospel discussion.

Each of these accounts helps us understand how intimately involved our Father in Heaven is in our lives, how much He cares for us, and how much He needs us to be there for one another. As we consider the blessings He has bestowed on us, we will be filled with gratitude. Then, as we follow the example of our prophet in reaching out to help and serve each other, the examples we create in our own lives will be an inspiration for generations to come.

Two Sticks of Gum

For many years my assignments took me into that part of Germany which was behind what was called the Iron Curtain. Under Communist control, those who lived in that area of Germany had lost nearly all of their freedoms. Activities of our youth were restricted; all actions were monitored.

Shortly after I assumed my responsibilities for that area, I attended a most uplifting conference held in that part of Germany. Following the inspirational songs and spoken word, I felt the impression to meet briefly outside of the old building with the precious teenage youth. They were relatively few in number but listened to every word I spoke. They had hungered for the word and encouragement of an Apostle of the Lord.

Prior to attending the conference, before leaving the United States, I had felt the prompting to buy three cartons of chewing gum. I purchased three flavors: Doublemint, Spearmint, and Juicy Fruit. Now, as the gathering of the youth was concluded, I distributed carefully to each youth two sticks of gumsomething they had never before tasted. They received the gift with joy.

The years went by. I returned to Dresdenthe site of our earlier conference. Now we had chapels; now the people had freedom. Germany was no longer separated by political boundaries but had become one nation. The youth were now adults with children of their own.

Following a large and inspirational conference, a mother and her daughter sought me out to speak to me. The daughter said to me, President Monson, do you remember long ago holding a brief gathering of youth following a district conference, where you gave to each boy and each girl two sticks of chewing gum?

I responded, Yes, I surely do remember.

She continued, My mother was one to whom you gave that gift. She told me that she rationed in little pieces one stick of gum. She mentioned how sweet to the taste it was and so precious to her. Then, under the approving smile of her dear mother, she handed to me a small box. As I opened the lid of the box, there I beheld the other stick of gum, still with its wrapper after nearly twenty years. My mother and I want you to have this, she said.

The tears flowed, embraces followed. The mother then spoke to me: Before you came to our conference so many years ago, I had prayed to my Heavenly Father to know that He indeed cared about me. I saved that gift so that I might remember and teach my daughter that Heavenly Father does hear our prayers.

I still have in my possession that gifteven a symbol of faith and assurance of the heavenly help our Father and His Son, Jesus Christ, will provide.

A Bright Spot on Their Souls

One evening years ago, as I went home teaching, I saw a member of our ward, a wonderful retired high priest, out in bad weather with a little pail trying to obtain a few lumps of coal from his uncovered coal pile. I helped him fill the pail, and then we took it inside and attempted to start a fire in the stove of that cold house. I said, John, how long have you had wet coal?

He replied, Bishop, Ive never had dry coal in the winter. That worried me.

Later that evening, as I pondered and meditated, I thought of another member of our ward who was temporarily unemployeda carpenter who had a furnace that ate coal slack as though it were going out of style. He was too proud to ask for help from the welfare program. Suddenly the pieces came together. I telephoned him and said, Reeves, we need you to build a coal house, but I wont let you do it unless you permit me to deliver four tons of slack to your house from the Deseret Coal Mine.

He said, Well, if you put it that way, Ill do it.

Now, where were we to obtain the materials? I approached the proprietors of a local lumberyard from whom we frequently purchased products. I remember saying to the men, How would the two of you like to paint a bright spot on your souls this winter day? Not knowing exactly what I meant, they agreed readily. They were invited to donate the lumber and hardware for the coal shed.

Within days the project was completed. I was invited to inspect the outcome. The coal shed was simply beautiful in its sleek covering of battleship gray paint. The carpenter, who was a high priest, testified that he had actually felt inspired as he labored on this modest shed. My older friend, with obvious appreciation, stroked the wall of the sturdy structure. He pointed out to me the wide door, the shiny hinges; and then he opened to my view the supply of dry coal that filled the shed. In a voice filled with emotion, he said, in words I shall ever treasure, Bishop, take a look at the finest coal shed a man ever had. Its beauty was surpassed only by the pride in the builders heart.

And the elderly recipient labored each weekday at the ward chapel, dusting the benches, vacuuming the carpet runners, and arranging the hymnbooks. He, too, worked for that which he had received.