We believe in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men; indeed, we may say that we follow the admonition of Paul - We believe all things, we hope all things, we have endured many things, and hope to be able to endure all things. If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, we seek after these things. One could argue that the 13th Article of Faith covers the entire rest of the gospel. In addition it provides a path for us because of its wide range of attitudes and beliefs. If I may I would like to share with you several storys without much commentary, but would rather provide some food for thought.

The First Value that I would like to touch on is Honesty to One�s self It has been an interesting year...It is interesting to note how the values in this country have slowly changed from our fore fathers. A comic put the situtation best recently when he said �Remember George Washington who could not tell a lie, then there was Richard Nixon who could not tell the difference to Bill Clinton who cannot tell the truth�.

William Shakespeare said "This above all; to thine own self be true and it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man." Brigham Young said "Honest hearts produce honest actions--; holy desires produce corresponding outward works. Fulfill your contracts and sacredly keep your word."

A story to illustrate

A long time ago in China there was a boy named Ping who loved flowers. Anything he planted burst into bloom. Up came flowers, bushes, and even big fruit trees, as if by magic!

He was fortunate that he lived in an kingdom where everyone loved flowers including the Emperor. The Emperor loved birds and animals, but most of all he loved flowers and spent most of his spare time in his garden among his flowers. He planted flowers everywhere in the kingdom, they were so abundant that it is said that if you took a big breathe your nose would fill with the wildest aroma of floral perfume.

The Emperor was getting very old and as was the custom he would be required to determine a successor to the throne. The Emperor knew that the choice would not be easy, but it must be done. He was troubled for weeks over how to determine which of all the children in the land should take his place. One night while working in his garden he determine that because of his love for flowers he would determine the next Emperor by allowing them to raise flowers on their own.

The next day a proclamation was made throughout the land. All the children in the land were to come to the palace. There they would be given special flower seeds by the Emperor.

"Whoever can show me their best in a year's time" he said, "will succeed me to the throne."

This news created great excitement throughout the land! Children from all over the country swarmed to the palace to get their very own flower seeds and to get started in their quest to become the next emperor.

All the parents of course wanted their children to be chosen Emperor, and all the children hoped that they would be chosen too!

When the young Ping received his flower seeds from the Emperor was the happiest of all, for he knew that he possessed a special talent for making things bloom. He was sure that he could grow the most beautiful flower in the land and the Emperor would be most proud of Ping and name him the new Emperor.

Ping hurried home and selected the finest soil from his backyard. He placed some soil in a beautiful hand painted pot and mixed in some fertilizer to ensure that the plant would grow to its fullest potential. Then very carefully Ping placed the seed into the soil and covered it with soil.

Then Ping placed the flower pot into an area on the back porch of his house that would receive the proper amount of sunlight. He watered his precious flower each and every day. He waited and watched with much excitement to see the flower sprout from the soil in hopes that it would blossom into a beautiful flower.

Day after day passed, however nothing grew from Pings pot. Ping was very worried, what could the matter be why would the special seeds from the Emperor not sprout? What had Ping done wrong? Was it the pot he wondered? So he placed the seed in a bigger pot and still nothing happened. Was it the soil? He placed the seeds into a different kind of soil and still nothing happened. In fact another two months went by and Ping had nothing to show for his efforts. The seasons had all passed, the year had come and gone and still Ping had no growth from the special seeds of the Emperor.

Then the glorious day that all the children had waited for had arrived. The children put on their best clothes to greet the Emperor. They rushed to the palace with their beautiful flowers, eagerly hoping to be chosen. Ping however was most ashamed of his empty pot. He thought the other children would laugh at him because for once he couldn't get a flower to grow.

His clever friend ran by, holding a great big plant. "Ping" he said. You're really not going to the Emperor with an empty pot are you? Couldn't you grow a great big beautiful flower like mine?"

"I've grown lots of flowers better than yours," Ping said "It's just these seeds that I got from the Emperor they will not grow." Just then Pings father arrived on the scene and declared "Ping you did your best, and your best is good enough to present to the Emperor."

Holding the empty pot in his hands, Ping went straight away to the palace. The Emperor viewed the pot in each childs hands he looked at the size of the flower, he looked at the pot that it was planted in and would stick his finger in to the soil to determine that the soil was rich and well watered. Then the Emperor would look into the eyes of each child frown and not say a single word. Finally the Emperor came to Ping, Ping hung his head in shame expecting to be punished.

The Emperor spoke to Ping and said "Why did you bring an empty pot?" To which Ping started to cry and then replied "I planted the seeds that you gave to me and I watered them every day, but they did not sprout. I put them in a bigger pot, and still nothing happened, I put them in different soil again nothing happened. So today I had nothing to bring but an empty pot without a flower. It was the best that I could do."

When the Emperor heard these words, a smile slowly spread over his face, and he put his arm around Ping. then exclaimed to one and all " i have found him! I have found the one person that is worthy to be the Emperor!"

"Where you got your seeds from, I don't know. For the seeds which I gave you were all cooked. So that it was impossible for any of them to grow. I admire Pings great courage to appear before me with the empty truth, and now I reward him with my entire kingdom and make him Emperor of the Land."

Ping had set for himself a very important precedent, that he could grow a flower from some other seeds and have something to show the Emperor as the other children had done, or he could be honest with himself and try his best to grow a flower from the seeds that the Emperor had given him.

Now let us reflect for a moment on honesty with our fellowmen.

It has been said that "One liar is like a bad king. A corrupt and wicked king can corrupt a whole nation. One liar can deceive thousands. A very simple person can tell the truth, but it takes a very smart person to tell a lie and make it appear like the truth. Simple truth, simplicity, honesty, uprightness, justice, mercy, love, kindness, do good to all and evil to none, how easy it is to live by such principles! A thousand times easier than to practice deception!"

An example of being honest with our fellowmen is demonstrated in the story of the farmer and the baker. I am sure that many of you have hear this story but it is short and well worth repeating.

As the story is told .there was certain farmer who decide to make fair trades with the local baker. The agreement was that the farmer would bring to the baker every day one pound of butter in turn the baker would provide one pound of bread in exchange. As the story goes; after many months of trading the baker thought that the butter that he was receiving from the farmer kept getting lighter and lighter, so he decided to put the supposed pound of butter on the scale and as he suspected the butter was far short of the pound that had been agreed upon in the beginning.

On the next day the baker determined to ask the farmer why he decided to be dishonest and cheat the baker out of butter, to which the farmer replied " I am poor and have no scale at home, and in an effort to be honest with you Mr. Baker I would balance each morning the butter with the bread that I received from you. So that there would be no injustice done.

The farmer had established for himself a very noteworthy precedent in dealing with his fellowmen, only if the baker had established such precedents for himself.

J.P. Senne said "Money dishonestly acquired is never worth its cost, while a good conscience never costs as much as it is worth"

Use you special talents to Make the world better

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."_ "Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them.

For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

Each of us has our own unique flaws. We re all cracked pots But if we will allow it, the Lord will use our flaws to grace His Father's table. In God's great economy, nothing goes to waste. So as we seek ways to minister together, and as God calls you to the tasks He has appointed for you, don't be afraid of your flaws Acknowledge them, and allow Him to take advantage of them, and you, too, can be the cause of beauty in His pathway._ Go out boldly, knowing that in our weakness we find His strength, and that "In Him every one of God's promises is a Yes."

Always remember those who serve

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10 year old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae?"

"Fifty cents," replied the waitress.

The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied a number of coins in it. "How much is a dish of plain ice cream?" he inquired. some people were now waiting for a table and the waitress was a bit impatient.

"Thirty-five cents," she said brusquely. The little boy again counted the coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and departed. When the waitress came back, she began wiping down the table and then swallowed hard at what she saw.

There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies - her tip.

Show respect and charity for our eternal brothers and sisters.

It was a scorching summer day, and the worn wooden bleachers at the ballpark were hot and splintery. It was a little league baseball game so the fans were quite sparseat the game.

The pitcher, wound up and pitched the ball. He was a pretty good pitcher, that became obvious as you heard the crisp slap of leather against leather as the ball hit the catcher's mitt. "Strike!" yelled the umpire. All could see a quick smile on the pitchers face before he regained his look of deep concentration in preparation for the next pitch. Although this was just a game to most in the stands one could quickly see that it was serious business to the twelve-year-olds playing.

Again the chatter of the people in the stands was broken by the snap of the ball as it struck the catcher's mitt. "Strike two!" called out the Umpire. The team in the field seemed to ease up some cheered the pitcher on then began their usual hey batter chatter. This could be the second out, and the sweet feeling of victory was beginning to engulf their hearts. "Strike three!" yelled the umpire. The team was jubilant. One man left to bat and the victory was theirs.

Then Joey came out of the dugout. Joey had been born with Down's syndrome. He picked up the bat and walked over to home plate. The pitcher looked Joey over with great anxiety on his face. You see Joey was one of the Ryan the pitchers friends maybe Joeys only real friend, because as you know when one has a defect of some kind people can be cruel.

Joeys favorite sport was baseball. In fact he loved it so much that every day Joey came over to the Ryans' house to practice. They would throw the ball for hours it was good for Joey, as it was good practice for Ryan to have someone to pitch too. Ryan worked with Joey and showed him how to hold the bat and how to swing properly. They practiced for hours to perfect Joey's ability to hit the ball. If Ryan threw the ball slowly enough, Joey could hit it almost every time.

Now as Ryan stood on the mound he could hear over and over again Joey Saying �I can hardly wait until our team plays your team Ryan, I have never hit a ball in a game before, and I know that I can hit the ball if you are the pitcher�. All could see Ryan grow more and more uneasy on the mound. He wanted Joey to succeed by finally getting a hit in a game, but against him, he was not sure. Then there was the obligation to his team to pitch his best. Ryan knew Joey could never hit one of his fast pitches.

Ryan turned and looked at his teammates. They knew that Joey was an easy out�in fact, the third out. Ryan looked at his coach, who nodded back his encouragement. Hesitating for an instant, Ryan took off his hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Then he gazed intently at Joey. He took the ball in hand, wound up, and then gently lobbed the ball, carefully and slowly, just as they had practiced for weeks. Joey swung�and then, crack! It was a hit!

Joey was so shocked he just stood there looking at the ball. All of a sudden everyone, including the boys on the opposite team, started yelling, �Run, Joey!, Run" For a few moments, a boy's dream of hitting a ball became more important than an easy out.

Joey finally came out of shock and ran. By the time he safely made it to first base, the whole ballpark was cheering. The first baseman was jumping up and down with excitement. Several boys ran over and gave Joey a congratulatory pat on the back. The smile on his face could only be matched by the smile on Ryan's face. The respect that Ryan sought had come in a very unexpected way. He had learned that there was more than one way to win.

I have had the opportunity to be associated with young men whom have stopped short in basketball games to provide an opportunity for such a young man with down�s syndrome to shoot a simple basket. Possibly at the cost of lossing a game. As a father I could think that there is no greater example of charity.

Make the world a better place

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed would live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the outside world.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly, an alien thought entered his head: Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while I never get to see anything? It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour. He began to brood and found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - and that thought now controlled his life.

Late one night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of breathing. Now, there was only silence--deathly silence.

The following morning the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away--no works, no fuss. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up one elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

Treat all with respect no matter how they dress

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly to the Harvard campus and without an appointment into the president's outer office.

The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods, country hicks had no business at Harvard and probably didn't even deserve to be in Cambridge.

She frowned. "We want to see the president", the man said softly. "He'll be busy all day," the secretary snapped.

"We'll wait," the lady replied.

For hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away. They didn't. And the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted to do. "Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they'll leave," she told him. And he sighed in exasperation and nodded.

someone of his importance obviously didn't have the time to spend with them, but he detested gingham dresses and homespun suits cluttering up his outer office.

The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple.

The lady told him, "We had a son that attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard. He was happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed And my husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him, somewhere on campus".

The president wasn't touched he was shocked.

"Madam," he said gruffy, "We can't put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery".

"Oh, no," the lady explained quickly, "We don't want to erect a statue. We thought we would like to give a building to Harvard.

The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, then exclaimed, "A building! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical plant at Harvard."

For a moment the lady was silent.

The president was pleased. He could get rid of them now. The lady turned to her husband and said quietly, "Is that all it costs to start a University? Why don't we just start our own?" Her husband nodded.

The president's face wilted in confusion and bewilderment.

Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveled to Palo Alto, California where they established the University that bears their name, a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.

Listen to the still small voice

As a teacher of origami (the ancient Japanese art of paper folding) at the LaFarge Lifelong Learning Institute in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Art Beaudry was asked to represent the school at an exhibit at a large mall in Milwaukee.

He decided to take along a couple hundred folded paper cranes to pass out to people who stopped at his booth. Before that day, however, something strange happened - a voice told him to find a piece of gold foil paper and make a gold origami crane. The strange voice was so insistent that Art actually found himself rummaging through his collection of origami papers at home until he found one flat, shiny piece of gold foil.

"Why am I doing this?" he asked himself. Art had never worked with the shiny gold paper. It didn't fold as easily or neatly as the crisp multicolored papers. But that little voice kept nudging. Art harrumphed and tired to ignore the voice. "Why gold foil anyway? Paper is much easier to work with." He grumbled.

The voice continued, "Do it! And you must give it away tomorrow to a special person." By now Art was getting a little cranky.....

"What special person?" he asked the voice.

"You'll know which one," the voice said.

That evening Art very carefully folded and shaped the unforgiving gold foil until it became as graceful and delicate as a real crane about to take flight.

He packed the exquisite bird in the box along with about 200 colorful paper cranes he'd made over the previous few weeks.

The next day at the mall, dozens upon dozens of people stopped by Art's booth to ask questions about origami. He demonstrated the art. He folded, unfolded and refolded. He explained the intricate details, the need for sharp creases.

Then there was a woman standing in front of Art. The special person. Art had never seen her before, and she hadn't said a word as she watched him carefully fold a bright pink piece of paper into a crane with pointed, graceful wings.

Art glanced up at her face, and before he knew what he was doing, his hands were down in the big box that contained the supply of paper cranes. There it was, the delicate gold-foil bird he'd labored over the night before. He retrieved it and carefully placed it in the woman's hand. "I don't know why, but there's a very loud voice inside me telling me I'm supposed to give you this golden crane. The crane is the ancient symbol of peace." Art said simply.

The woman didn't say a word as she slowly cupped her small hand around th

e fragile bird as if it were alive. When Art looked up at her face, he saw tears filling her eyes, ready to spill out.

Finally the woman took a deep breath and said, "My husband died three weeks ago. This is the first time I've been out. Today...." She wiped her eyes with her free hand, still gently cradling the golden crane with the other. She spoke very quietly, "Today is our golden wedding anniversary."

Then this stranger said in a clear voice. "Thank you for this beautiful gift. Now I know that my husband is at peace. Don't you see? That voice you heard. It's the voice of God and this beautiful crane is a gift from Him. It's the most wonderful 50th wedding anniversary present I could have received. Thank you for listening to your heart."