Finding Nuggets of Gold

Oftentimes we are like the young merchant from Boston, who in 1849, as the story goes, was caught up in the fervor of the California gold rush. He sold all of his possessions to seek his fortune in the California rivers, which he was told were filled with gold nuggets so big that one could hardly carry them.

Day after endless day, the young man dipped his pan into the river and came up empty. His only reward was a growing pile of rocks. Discouraged and broke, he was ready to quit until one day an old, experienced prospector said to him, "That's quite a pile of rocks you are getting there, my boy."

The young man replied, "There's no gold here. I'm going back home."

Walking over to the pile of rocks, the old prospector said, "Oh, there is gold all right. You just have to know where to find it." He picked two rocks up in his hands and crashed them together. One of the rocks split open, revealing several flecks of gold sparkling in the sunlight.

Noticing a bulging leather pouch fastened to the prospector's waist, the young man said, "I'm looking for nuggets like the ones in your pouch, not just tiny flecks."

The old prospector extended his pouch toward the young man, who looked inside, expecting to see several large nuggets. He was stunned to see that the pouch was filled with thousands of flecks of gold.

The old prospector said, "Son, it seems to me you are so busy looking for large nuggets that you're missing filling your pouch with these precious flecks of gold. The patient accumulation of these little flecks has brought me great wealth."

This story illustrates the spiritual truth that Alma taught his son Helaman:

"By small and simple things are great things brought to pass. …

"… And by very small means the Lord … bringeth about the salvation of many souls"

Alma 37:6–7

We often lack the patience or the understanding to find the very thing we are looking for.

Source: Quoted in a talk by M. Russel Ballard

The Wedge

"The story of the iron wedge began years ago when the white-haired farmer [who now inhabited the property on which it stood] was a lad on his father's homestead. The sawmill had then only recently been moved from the valley, and the settlers were still finding tools and odd pieces of equipment scattered about. …

"On this particular day, it was a faller's wedge—wide, flat, and heavy, a foot or more long, and splayed from mighty poundings [—which the lad found] … in the south pasture. [A faller's wedge, used to help fell a tree, is inserted in a cut made by a saw and then struck with a sledge hammer to widen the cut.] … Because he was already late for dinner, the lad laid the wedge … between the limbs of the young walnut tree his father had planted near the front gate. He would take the wedge to the shed right after dinner, or sometime when he was going that way.

"He truly meant to, but he never did. [The wedge] was there between the limbs, a little tight, when he attained his manhood. It was there, now firmly gripped, when he married and took over his father's farm. It was half grown over on the day the threshing crew ate dinner under the tree. … Grown in and healed over, the wedge was still in the tree the winter the ice storm came.

"In the chill silence of that wintry night … one of the three major limbs split away from the trunk and crashed to the ground. This so unbalanced the remainder of the top that it, too, split apart and went down. When the storm was over, not a twig of the once-proud tree remained.

"Early the next morning, the farmer went out to mourn his loss. …

"Then, his eyes caught sight of something in the splintered ruin. 'The wedge,' he muttered reproachfully. 'The wedge I found in the south pasture.' A glance told him why the tree had fallen. Growing, edge-up in the trunk, the wedge had prevented the limb fibers from knitting together as they should.

"The ice storm [that winter] wasn't generally destructive. True, a few wires came down, and there was a sudden jump in accidents along the highway. … Normally, the big walnut tree could easily have borne the weight that formed on its spreading limbs. It was the iron wedge in its heart that caused the damage."
Samuel T. Whitman, "Forgotten Wedges"

We cannot afford to let wedges weaken us. These wedges can weaken individuals, families, or teams. We need to be quick to forgive so the wounds can heal and bonds can strengthen. When the test of our strength comes, it is too late to remove the wedge.

A shorter and easier version of the story:

"A young boy who lived on a farm was out playing in the field when he found a large metal wedge. He meant to put it away when he was done playing, but because he was already late for dinner, he laid the wedge between the limbs of the young walnut tree his father had planted near the front gate. He told himself that he would put it away later.

"He truly meant to, but he never did. The tree continued to grow. As time passed, the tree branches grew around the wedge. By the time the boy had grown up, married, and taken over his father's farm, it was grown in and healed over.

"One night, a bad winter ice storm came. One of the tree's three main limbs split away from the trunk and crashed to the ground. This so unbalanced the remainder of the top that it, too, split apart and went down. When the storm was over, not a twig of the once-proud walnut tree remained standing.

"Early the next morning, the farmer went out to look at the tree. He was sad to see the large walnut tree that was almost as old as he was completely gone.

"Then, he saw something in the splintered ruins. 'The wedge,' he muttered. 'The wedge I found in the south pasture.' A glance told him why the tree had fallen. As the tree grew, the wedge had prevented the tree's limbs from growing together as they should have and weakened the tree.

"Normally, the big walnut tree could have easily survived the bad ice storm. It was the iron wedge in its heart that caused the damage."

Source: Referenced in a talk by President Thomas S. Monson