In section 84 of the Doctrine and Covenants, verses 98-102, the reference is made to a new song that will be sung in the day when the Lord reigns on the earth. I have been blessed to hear and know that song and will be sending it to the Church as a gift. For your blessing, here is that song:

D&C 84: 95-102

The Lord Hath Brought Again Zion

The Lord hath brought again Zion, according to His grace;
He hath freed His people Israel, as brought to pass by faith.
The Lord hath gathered all in one, above and from beneath;
By cov’nant with our Fathers, His people hath redeemed.

The earth hath ended her labors and now brings forth her strength.
With the truth established in her, Heaven smiles upon her reign.
With Satan bound and time no more and all see eye to eye,
Let us lift our voices together, here never more to die.

Our God hath shown us His mercy and all now know His way.
The earth clothed in His glory and men behold his face.
God’s glory, honor, power and might, within his people’s midst.
Through justice, grace and mercy, His truth hath brought us peace.

Words and music: Steven G. O’Dell, b.1951

Relative Size--(C) Steven G. O'Dell Nov. 2005

The warm sunshine felt wonderful on her arms and legs as she ran across the large open yard. The breeze was gentle, but more pronounced as she ran inhaling the fragrant air that wafted from the nearby lilac bushes and rose garden. The grass brushed her toes lightly with each bounding step and all was right with the world in this little girl's life. She felt so alive in this great big world that surrounded her.

With a sudden leap, she rolled to the ground and lay still for a moment, basking in the sunshine that bathed her naked skin and warmed her from head to foot. Catching her breath, she could hear the birds in the trees and in the sky overhead. 'Such a great big world,' she thought. Rubbing her arms back and forth across the blades of grass, as though making a summertime snow angel, the softness of the experience caused her to roll over onto her stomach, where she began to inspect the wonders before her.

Each blade, though seemingly at first glance the same as all its neighbors, was in its own way unique, even if only because the mower had shaved each in a different manner--some smoothly, some more torn, some angled and others straight as could be. She marveled that she had never noticed this before and as she stared closely at one particular blade she noticed the movement of some small creature that caught her eye. It was an ordinary ant, but she was in a state of heightened awareness today that led her to study this insect as she never had before. What a wondrous little creation this was and she marveled over it for several minutes as it went about its business in the grass before her. Until another movement caught her now sensitive eye.

It was incredibly tiny and she actually strained to come closer and focus upon it. What appeared to her fascinated gaze was an almost unbelievably minute creature, red and having all the appearance of a spider in its nature. She was now struck with a sense of wonder that she had indeed never felt. Here was something that she was discovering for the very first time in her young life--as if it were a new world, only now revealed to the eyes of mankind.

The detail she observed in this nearly microscopic creature was stunning. Every needful part was there to allow it to function in its own huge world and each worked to perfection. The young girl suddenly knew two things very clearly. First, large as her own world had seemed but a few short moments ago, there were things that must feel so much tinier than she. And secondly, she knew that she would never see her world in quite the same way ever again.

Yours For A Wish - (c) Steven G. O'Dell Nov. 2005

The small boy stood eagerly on his porch, watching the deliveryman bring the large crate that he had wished for. Inside, he knew, would be all the wonderful things he had been told of and had come to desire so deeply. He opened the crate excitedly. It was so large. Out spilled all the wonderfully ornate, shiny baubles he expected. His eyes grew wide and he ooh-ed and ah-ed in complete amazement. These were all his and his alone, to do with as he pleased. Now they were all within his reach and his life could begin in earnest.

As he grew, the young man fondled and polished all the shiny accoutrements that he had wanted so early in his life. He noticed how some seemed to have lost their sheen with age. Others appeared to be cracked and nearly broken, but he was a prideful young man and nothing would take these things from him or demean them in any way while he still lived and breathed. They were still his and his alone.

The man grew older still. He was bitter now. None of what he had wished for in his life seemed of any consequence. Old habits die hard, however, and the tarnished baubles were still his and he still clung to them jealously, all the while hating them deeply.

The time came when the old man died and all of his worldly belongings were left behind to be sold cheaply to the next covetous young man who desired to accumulate all the world had to offer him. What the dead man took with him was a simple gravestone that marked his final resting place, soon to be forgotten by all but the groundskeeper.

Another small boy stood wide-eyed on his front porch. His box, too, had arrived. His mother and father handed it gently, almost reverently, to him. They took the time to explain the proper use of all the contents within his wonderful gift box and then bade him open it. With a sense of wonder and awe he carefully began to peel the ribbon from the small container that sat easily within one small hand. He could scarcely conceal his smile, so excited was he to be finally getting what he had been taught to so deeply desire above all else. The lid lifted away, the young man stepped into the full sunlight where he could more easily investigate the contents and to his great surprise, the light that was caught and reflected from the object within was nearly as bright as the sun itself. He shielded his eyes and squinted against the gleam of what appeared to be a beautiful cut diamond. His parents corrected him and explained that it was indeed a rare jewel, but no earthly diamond at all. It was far more valuable than anything so common as a diamond. The boy smiled, hugged his parents and promised to always cherish the gift throughout his life.

The young man had kept his promise and found that as he shared the beauty of his wonderful gift, an amazing thing happened-the shine seemed to get even more brilliant than before and would cast its light to greater and greater distances around him. All who came within the influence of his precious gift were touched and improved in some strange way. What tremendous delight this brought to the young man and all who knew him.

An old man had lived a long and fruitful life. He smiled as he thought back on all that had meant so much to him in this world. It seemed that everything he cherished most could not be bought with money or traded for insignificant worldly goods. What he most treasured were the moments of love and friendship with family and acquaintances. The memories of a lifetime graced the pages of his mind in the last few hours of his mortality, but before he went, he called to his side all of his children and grandchildren and with a shaking hand held aloft the same small box that his mother and father had delivered to him so many years ago. With wide eyes and awe-opened mouths, the family received from his lips the story that his parents had told him in his childhood. When he passed, they were sad to see him go, but knew that to a wonderful and very real extent he remained with them as much as ever. When he passed he took with him no more than the first man had taken. However, far more than the groundskeeper took notice of his passing. His name continued to be spoken within his town and in an ever-broadening circle, for generations thereafter.

The two men came into this life with the same opportunities. Neither had the advantage over the other, except in one thing. What made the difference? The teacher. The first young boy was turned loose without guidance to desire what the world would teach him were things to be prized above all else. He found later in his life that these were but empty and meaningless things that brought no comfort to him or to anyone else that he came in contact with. The second boy, so similar to the first, was taught that what he held was the power to make the world around him a better place, if he would but do so. He was taught that the power he wielded could be used for good or for evil and that it must be used wisely or it would destroy him and all who came into contact with it. He was shown that as he used wisdom, the gift would reach out to enlighten and guide the lives of others, who in turn would enlighten then more lives beyond theirs. So great was the love of this young boy for his first teachers that he carried that gift with reverence all his life, simply to honor their names with each use. And so great was the joy that it brought, he could not help but pass it on to those who had come to love him for his shining example of beauty and benevolence.

You see, we are all placed in this world with the self-same promise-that "nothing shall be withheld from them which they shall imagine to do". We hold within our hands the same gift, though to some it may appear large and to others small. Some trade it for baubles and beads that become mere trash and bring no lasting value to anyone, even their owners. Others learn the priorities of life and become a shining city on a hill, where none can hide the light from all who would draw near and truly see for the first time. You have that power to choose what you value most in life. You also have the power to become a revered teacher in your own right-to anyone you may touch in this life. The choice is yours. What do you wish?

Introduction

Nothing captures the heart like a tale of romance; you know…as when two star-crossed lovers meet against impossible odds, discovering long awaited happiness after enduring untold pain and sorrow? When its clear heaven plays a hand in the union-- the only thing that could make the story better is if the story were… true.

They say that “fact is stranger than fiction” and, in our case, they’re absolutely right! Love matches can be made in heaven—and this, My Friends, is the true-life account of how fairy-tale romance happened for us.

This is not meant to be an example of good writing, I'm not ready to hope for that! This story is true and important to me. I wrote it for my personal history and I share it here in hope that someone may find value in it.

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My name is Dan Crites and I hope to explain in this writing how I came to know that God lives and that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is Christ’s true church.

I grew up in Portland, Oregon where my parents lived following my fathers return from World War II. Mom and Dad had met each other when my father was stationed at Topaz Camp in Central Utah. My mother was born and raised in Fillmore, Utah about 50 miles from Topaz. My mother’s family were members of the Church but had quit attending by the time my mom was old enough to be baptized. My dad was not a member of any Church.

While I was growing up we always made a summer vacation trip to Fillmore. I had aunts, uncles, and many cousins there. I loved it as we would go up Chalk Creek Canyon to fish, out to my uncles farms to see the livestock, up in the mountains in a jeep, or out to the desert to hunt jack rabbits. It was great adventure and fun for a young boy and I always enjoyed going there.

My Mom died after a long illness when I was 11 years old. I loved her as much as any boy loves his mother, she was so good to me. My Dad, a good man, died 3 years later when I was in the 9th grade. After that, I lived with my brother, Gary, and his family.

When I graduated from high school I went to college at Oregon State University for one year. I was lost, not knowing right from wrong really. I was searching, searching without knowing I was searching, for the meaning of life and what was worth pursuing. I didn’t go back to school the following year but got a job working for a landscaping company where I stayed for several years.

Just after my 21st birthday I took a trip to Fillmore to see my extended family there. I can’t explain why I made the trip, I hadn’t seen any of them for 6 or 7 years, but I had good memories of Fillmore and used my vacation time to go. I took my dog, Beorn, with me and left in my Volkswagon Beetle early one morning a little before Thanksgiving. My car broke down near Bliss, Idaho and I had it towed to Burley where I learned that the engine repair would be major. I decided to sell the car there and I got a ride to Fillmore. This is where my story really begins.

I enjoyed being in Fillmore, enjoyed visiting with my extended family. I stayed with my Uncle Londo and Aunt Edith. Londo was my mom’s oldest brother. Edith was a woman of great faith and always attended church meetings, read scriptures, listened to recorded inspiring talks and music, and lived a life of service. She invited me to go to church with her, and though I really didn’t want to, I felt an obligation to do so, knowing that it would make her happy. I remember going with her, arriving a bit late, and having to sit on the first row. On another day I went with Errol and Joyce and their family to a Church road show. It was great fun and I enjoyed being with them.

I went to say goodbye to Errol’s family the night before I left Fillmore. My plan was to drive all the way from Fillmore to Portland, a trip of over 900 miles taking about 14 hours. When leaving Errol’s, he asked me if I’d like to stop on my way home at the Visitor’s Center at Temple Square. I didn’t have any interest in stopping there, knowing what a long trip home it would be. I said no, that I couldn’t do it and explained my reasoning. He tried to talk me into it and asked again. I said no again. He asked again. He told me that I would enjoy it, and that he would bring his family and meet me there. He suggested having his brother Lon, who had recently returned from serving a mission in Germany, meet us there. I don’t remember how many times he asked, but I do know that he asked one more time than I said no.

The following morning Lon and I met at the Visitor’s Center. We started our tour by looking at the large murals that depicted scenes from the old and new testament. It felt good there and I enjoyed hearing about what was depicted in the murals. Lon was a great guide, perfect for me, able to show and explain gospel principles. We then went to a diorama depicting Joseph Smith kneeling in prayer in a grove of trees. It was at this diorama that the story of the First Vision of the Father and the Son was first explained to me. I had never heard before a credible explanation of a modern prophet, and this opened up a whole new world of possibility. I believe it was just after that that we met up with Errol and his family. We went to a room that describe the Family Home Evening program and purpose. It was both entertaining and heart warming to hear of the importance of families and of a practice to help them be close and protected.

As I was driving home I decided that I needed to learn more about what I heard at the Visitor’s Center that day. I had a copy of the Book of Mormon that Aunt Edith had given me and a pamphlet or two from the visitor’s center. When I got home, around the 10th of December, I started reading the Book of Mormon. I liked it. I wasn’t reading very fast, only having read 30 or 40 pages when I got bogged down in the events surrounding Christmas. It was then that Lon called to see if he could come, just after Christmas, to visit me and see some of the sights of Oregon.

Though he has never said so, I have to think that Lon had a more noble purpose than just visiting me and seeing Oregon. We went to the beautiful Oregon coast, to Mt. Hood to go cross country skiing, and into the Columbia River Gorge. Because I had been thinking about what I had heard at the Visitor Center, and the things I had read in the Book of Mormon and church pamphlets, a few questions had arisen in my mind. I would occasionally ask Lon questions while we drove. His answers were always given in a very good manner. His responses made me very comfortable in asking more questions because they were always taken well, answered well, and were never “preachy”. He never gave more than what I asked for which left me wanting to ask more.

On Saturday he let me know that he wanted to attend church. We went to what was my home ward, it was the ward that I would have attended had I been a member while growing up. There I found people I knew, including two young women that I went to school with who had since joined the Church. Lon was instrumental in my introduction to the gospel and early learning of it. Looking back, I doubt that I would have taken the steps I needed to continue reading from the Book of Mormon and request missionaries had he not come and spent those three days with me.

We had a great time traveling and playing, but for me it was worth much more than that. By the time I took Lon to the airport I was determined to learn more about the church and this religion that had the ring of truth to it. I had had some concerns about talking with the missionaries, but had gotten to the point that I needed and wanted to. After I got back to the house where I was living I asked a roommate, Chris Kendall, a member of the church who no longer attended, if he knew how to find the missionaries. He said that he did and that night he arranged for them to come.

The missionaries, Elder Grant and Baker, came at the appointed time a day or two later. After a brief “get-to-know-you” discussion they asked for permission to offer an opening prayer and began to teach. They first told me about Joseph Smith’s First Vision. I loved it. I had heard it at the Visitor’s Center and I enjoyed hearing it again, it had the ring of truth. They then told me about the coming forth of the Book of Mormon. I had previously heard that too. Then they told me about the restoration of the Savior’s true church, as it was originally organized, and through His authority. They ended by teaching me how to pray.

As a boy I remember my dad asking me to offer a blessing on a Thanksgiving day meal when my Aunt Eva and Uncle Pratt were visiting. I didn’t want to because I didn’t know how. We never had prayers in our home and I really had not heard someone pray very many times. One of the missionaries asked me if I would like to offer the closing prayer. I didn’t. I had only prayed one time previous to this in my life, just after my mom died. I definitely did not want to pray in front of them. They told me they would leave their flip chart open showing an outline of how to pray and asked if that would help. I told them that I didn’t need it, that I did not want to pray then but would do so in my own room after they left. They asked again, and I reluctantly agree to pray.

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. I’m sure I followed the outline, it was a very short prayer though I don’t remember what I said. After I closed the prayer in the Savior’s name I experienced something I never had before. It was a most amazing combination of feeling and intelligence. The feeling came as a warmth, though not physically warm, and accompanied with it was the knowledge that what I had just been taught was true. I sat there enjoying the feeling and being amazed by it when Elder Grant thanked me for saying the prayer. I thought, “Oh, let’s just sit here and feel this”.

We arranged for another visit and I started pouring through the Book of Mormon. I read it every chance I had, in the morning, during work breaks, at lunch, and in the evening. I found so many great things in it and I knew it was true. I continued with the lessons and was invited to be baptized on January 28, 1978.

My baptism occurred on the appointed day. I was confirmed a member of the Church by a childhood friend, Terry Walworth, who had returned from a mission a few months earlier. While hands were on my head, and the words “Receive the Holy Ghost” were pronounced, I had a similar experience to what had happened after praying at the end the first missionary discussion. I felt that I had received the promised Gift of the Holy Ghost, and though I know that there is much to receiving that gift, I did receive it that day.

That was 29 years ago. Since those days I have been greatly blessed in many ways and am so grateful to God and all those who helped me begin to learn the Gospel of Jesus Christ and gain membership in His Church. I have read the Book of Mormon over 30 times now. Prayer has become an essential part of my life. Church attendance has been a regular part of my life since joining and I have felt the Spirit many, many times. But, I still remember the unique feelings of the Spirit that came to me as I started to have, as it were, the scales of darkness fall from my spiritual eyes, and the Holy Ghost begin to communicate with me in ways that I could understand.

I know that God lives. His Son, Jesus Christ, is the Savior of the world, the Savior of every person who ever lives in it, if they will follow Him. He is greater than I have the ability to understand, yet I know something of his personality. I have heard his voice. I seek to live my life better by following Him, though I frequently have cause to be disappointed in my actions. I know that the Book of Mormon is literally true. It is what Joseph Smith claimed it is, an ancient book of scripture written by men of old for the people of today, translated by the gift and power of God. It was written for me. I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is Christ’s church, the only one authorized to administer the ordinances of the Gospel. It brings peace to the hearts of man in this life and salvation and exaltation in the life to come.

I am so grateful.

(This story is based on a true experience)

“I’d like to close our Family Home Evening lesson tonight with my testimony of prayer. I know that Heavenly Father hears and answers our prayers and I’m very thankful for prayer,” Dad said. He turned to Mom and said, “Time for family business. What’s on our schedule for this week?”

Mom pulled out the calendar. After talking about a home teaching appointment, a choir concert, and piano lessons, Mom said, “And, we have our trip to Mesa, Arizona this weekend so Dad and I can attend the temple. Since it’s a seven hour drive from here, we’ll need to stay overnight.”

Angela played with her braids. She looked over at Dad and said, “Do you think we’ll ever have a temple closer to us, Daddy?”

“That’d sure be nice. The Mesa Temple is wonderful, but it’s so far away. Maybe we should pray to Heavenly Father and ask Him to bless us with a temple closer to our home. Then we could attend more often and not have to spend the weekend.”

Angela nodded.

That night by her bed, Angela knelt down for her own prayer. She remembered what Dad said about praying for a temple. She thought about her favorite song, “A Child’s Prayer,” and the words to the second verse,

“Pray, he is there; Speak, he is list’ning.
You are his child; His love now surrounds you.
He hears your prayer; He loves the children. . .” (CS 12 )

She bowed her head and asked Heavenly Father for a temple closer to
where she lived in Southwestern Colorado.

When she finished her prayer, she froze like a statue. Her eyes moved from side to side. “Is someone there?” she called out. Finally, she jumped up and rushed into the living room to find Mom and Dad.

“What’s wrong, Angela?” Dad said. .

Between breaths she said, “I was saying my prayers and I asked for a temple.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Dad looked puzzled.

Angela jumped up and down. “Something happened.”

“What?” Mom asked, reaching her hand out to grab Angela’s.

“After my prayer, I heard someone say, ‘A temple will be built here.’ I looked all around my room, but no one was there.” Angela’s eyes grew big.

“Hmmm. Sounds like you had a direct answer to your prayer,” Dad said.

Mom gave her hand a squeeze.

“I think so, too.” She pulled her mom and dad close to her and gave them a tight hug. She skipped back to her room and wrote all about her experience in her journal. That night, she thought about what happened until she drifted off to sleep.

About a month later, on April 4, 1997, she was watching General Conference at her ward building. President Hinckley stood at the pulpit and announced plans for a temple in Albuquerque, New Mexico, a four-hour drive from Angela’s house.

Angela felt tingles all over. Heavenly Father had really, truly answered her
prayer for a temple closer to her house.

Even more exciting, was the announcement at the next General Conference, on October 4, 1997, about plans for a smaller temple in Monticello, Utah because that meant there’d be a temple within two hours from her home.
She looked at her dad and said, “Now Heavenly Father has given us a temple even closer to our house and has answered my prayer again.” She grinned. “Sometimes, He answers prayers in more ways than one.”

***Angela and her family attended the open house for the Albuquerque, New Mexico Temple and the Monticello, Utah Temple. Her family has been blessed to regularly attend the Monticello, Utah Temple because they can now travel home the same day.

I had an opportunity to view a marvelous painting the other day titled O'
Jerusalem. It was beautiful, the artist is Greg K. Olsen. These words
seemed to come out of it to me... Please forgive me if this doesn't qualify
as a poem. ray

Through the streets of the city, I silently made my way. Past closed
doorways, and shuttered windows, thick walls offering the comfort of
protection to those within; some followers, some not, that's not important,
I'll do what I came to do.

The wall of the city is just ahead now, but I won't be gone long. Just
a little while, a time for relaxing, and reflecting about what has happened,
and will soon be.

I stumble a little as I start up the path. It has been packed like the
rocks on the side by so many sandaled feet.

It is so peaceful on this mount just before dawn. No crowds, no jeering
or cheering, no pushing or shoving. I found an outcropping that overlooks
the city, and sat to watch as the lightening of the sky brought life to my
Jerusalem. The sun rose, it was so beautiful.

I could see the colors of the robes, the blankets as they hung out.

Oh, how I love these, my people, my children, my sheep. They know not
what they need, what only I can give.

What I do, I do for all, no one is excluded. If only they could
understand the gift, but no matter. If there is the slightest chance, if
only one in each million reaches out to grasp my hand, it is worth all this.
Oh, that all would accept freely of my gift of life.

My friends, my children, down there below in my beautiful Jerusalem,
soon you will waken; if only you would awaken to the love that I and our
Father have for you.

You have heard my words, how long shall you remember them? How long
after I go will you remember me? Will you care for my mother? For I will
leave you soon, but the time will come that we shall again hold each other
and express our joy for the reunion.

Ah, Jerusalem, such a grand city now, golden in the morning sun. How I
love thee, yet must I weep for what you face.

Look for me to return, and as I set my foot on this Mount of Olives, it
shall split in twain, and you will know it is I who stands before you.

Now I must rise, to return once again to the city below. I spend what
time I may among those I love, for I do love you all.

[Even so do I now look upon the earth, and I weep, for I know what is to
come. Reach out thine hand, and I shall be there.]