Gospel Story Finder

I was attending Brigham Young University in 1994 when President Howard W. Hunter (1907–95) counseled members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to become “a temple-attending and a temple-loving people.” He said, “Let us hasten to the temple as frequently as time and means and personal circumstances allow.”1
At the time, I was living in an apartment that was only a 15-minute walk from the Provo Utah Temple. I didn’t have a car, but I knew that I had no excuse for not attending the temple regularly. I decided to make it a priority.
I arranged my class schedule so that I would have Fridays open. Then I committed to make that my temple day. Every Friday that semester, rain or shine, I walked to the temple at 7:30 a.m. to be baptized for the dead. If a big paper or project was due, I went to the temple first and then dedicated the rest of my day to schoolwork.
In the years since then, my time, means, and circumstances, as well as my proximity to a temple, have changed several times. But with each change, I have arranged my schedule so that I can continue to make temple attendance a priority in my life.
As I have done this, the blessings of the temple have come into my life, just as President Hunter promised.

As the time to leave Nauvoo drew near, the Brethren redoubled their efforts to endow as many Saints as possible in the temple. Brigham Young wrote, “Such has been the anxiety manifested by the saints to receive the ordinances (of the Temple), and such the anxiety on our part to administer to them, that I have given myself up entirely to the work of the Lord in the Temple night and day, not taking more than four hours sleep, upon an average, per day, and going home but once a week.”
But it was not just the Apostles who were working hard. Many faithful Saints gave freely of their time by washing the temple clothing each night so that the temple work could continue the next morning.
The Brethren planned to stop the ordinance work on February 3, 1846, before leaving for the west the next day. President Young left the temple to make final preparations to leave Nauvoo, but upon seeing a large crowd gathered to receive their endowments, he returned. This delayed his departure for another two weeks, but it meant that 5,615 Saints were endowed before they left Nauvoo.

My message is that we are doing better. Fathers and mothers are pleading for unity in their homes, and those prayers are being answered. Families are praying together night and morning. I was invited to kneel at bedtime with a family when I was a guest in their home. The smallest child was asked to be voice. He prayed like a patriarch for every person in the family, by name. I opened my eyes for an instant to see the faces of the other children and the parents. I could tell that they were joining their faith and their hearts in that little boy’s prayer.

Seminary students in the Medicine Hat Alberta First, Second, and Third wards decided to do something special to better understand the Old Testament.
One morning each week, seminary students and leaders devoted time to building a replica of the tabernacle the Israelites built while they were in the wilderness. The students studied the scriptures carefully to make sure their building was accurate, although they built their tabernacle two-thirds the size of the one described in the scriptures. They also built the structures for the inside of the tabernacle described in the Old Testament.
This project served as a great way to learn a little more about the experiences of the Israelites. The students became very involved in reading the Old Testament as they were better able to see what was a so carefully described in the scriptures.

In mid-July 1984, just weeks after my wife, Carol, and I were married in the Los Angeles California Temple, we were on our way to Utah, where I would begin my career and Carol would finish her college education. We were driving in separate cars. Between the two vehicles, we were transporting everything we owned.

About halfway to our destination, Carol pulled up alongside my car and began to motion to me. This was in the days before cell phones and smartphones, texting and Twitter. Seeing the expression on her face through her car window, I could tell she was not feeling well. She communicated that she could continue driving, but I was worried for my new bride.

As we approached the small town of Beaver, Utah, she again pulled alongside, and I could tell she needed to stop. She was ill and could not continue. We had two cars full of clothes and wedding gifts, but unfortunately we had little money. A hotel room was out of our budget. I was not sure what to do.

Neither of us had ever been to Beaver, and not really knowing what I was looking for, we drove around for a few minutes until I saw a park. We pulled into the parking lot and found a tree with some shade, where I laid out a blanket so Carol could rest.

A few minutes later another car drove into the nearly empty parking lot and parked next to our two cars. A woman, about the age of our mothers, got out of her car and asked if anything was wrong and if she could help. She mentioned that she had noticed us as she drove by and felt she should stop. When we explained our situation, she immediately invited us to follow her home, where we could rest as long as we needed to.

We soon found ourselves on a comfortable bed in a cool basement bedroom of her home. Just as we had settled, this wonderful sister mentioned that she had a number of errands to run and that we would be left alone for a few hours. She told us that if we were hungry, we were welcome to anything we could find in the kitchen, and that if we left before she returned home, to please close the front door.

After getting some much-needed sleep, Carol felt better and we continued our trip without stopping by the kitchen. When we left, the kind woman had not yet returned home. To our chagrin, we didn’t make note of the address and have never properly thanked our own good Samaritan, who stopped along the way and opened her home to strangers in need.

Sincerely seeking to be more like the Savior will allow us to see what we may not otherwise see. Our good Samaritan lived close enough to the Spirit to respond to a prompting and approach a stranger in need.

Only those who had seen with spiritual eyes, recognizing the need, acted and blessed those who suffered. Our good Samaritan recognized the need as she saw with spiritual eyes.

We may act by giving our time and talents, a kind word, or a strong back. As we seek and see, we will be placed in circumstances and situations where we can act and bless. Our good Samaritan acted. She took us to her home and provided us with what she had. In essence she said, “Such as I have give I thee.” It was exactly what we needed.

Beautifully exemplifying the theme of our conferences was a talk given by Elder Boyd K. Packer on “the voice of warning.” He began by quoting from the first section of the Doctrine and Covenants, wherein the Lord said:
“The voice of warning shall be unto all people, by the mouths of my disciples, whom I have chosen in these last days.
“And they shall go forth and none shall stay them, for I the Lord have commanded them.” (D&C 1:4–5.)
He then referred to the recent collapse of the Teton Dam in Idaho, and graphically described what happened on that occasion as houses, churches, and whole towns vanished. In all, 790 homes were destroyed, and 800 others were severely damaged, as were schools, churches, business houses, etc. About 7,800 people were in the immediate path of the flood, and farther down the valley another 25,000 or 30,000 were in danger. I quote:
“But what happened to the people that Saturday morning? There was a miracle! There were several deaths, but only six of them by drowning. How could such terrible destruction take place with such a little loss of life?
“The answer: they were warned. A number of them had been subjected to a restless, anxious feeling that morning, and so responded instantly when the warning came. They heeded the warning. Latter-day Saints pay attention to warnings. They have read the revelation which states:
“‘For this is a day of warning, and not a day of many words. For I, the Lord, am not to be mocked in the last days.’” (D&C 63:58.)
Elder Packer stated that by scientific calculations 5,300 lives might have been lost, but there were so few. And it was not a case of going upstairs onto the roof. The houses were completely washed away, and most of the people had miles to go to reach high ground. They were saved because they heeded a warning and then warned their neighbors.
He quoted again from the revelations: “And let those whom they have warned in their traveling call on the Lord, and ponder the warning in their hearts which they have received. … Behold, I sent you out to testify and warn the people, and it becometh every man who hath been warned to warn his neighbor.” (D&C 88:71, 81.)
Then he said: “That is how they were saved. Everyone, when warned, raised the voice of warning to his family and to his neighbors. … Do you think they were casual about it? That is not the way it happened. The warnings were shouted and screamed. Horns were honked. Every means was used to sound the warning. ‘Come out of the valley. A flood is coming!’
“Of the six drowned, one stood just below the dam and had no chance. The others either failed to heed the warning or went back to get something. Every man who was warned, warned his neighbor. There are chapter after chapter of miracles. The whole episode stands as a mighty miracle. And the whole disaster looms itself as a warning.”

Their collaboration came about after Abby started writing music again, following the birth of their fifth child, when she heard about Sam’s professional musical experience from a fellow member in his ward. Sam helped Abby record the songs she had written and they worked together on other compositions, even from opposite ends of the United Kingdom. They have since released a full CD of original Christmas songs, which has also been printed as sheet music for others to use.

7. We prepare for the reproof with prayer whenever possible. On one occasion I was called to counsel with a family in trouble. The father had physically punished his wife and children. Several hours before we met together. I thought about what I should tell them. I fully intended to begin my remarks to this unkind husband with some harsh words about his cruelty to his family but the night I met them, I heard myself saying, “Fred, I love you, and I love your wife and family. I’d like to help you build an eternal home.” He was no longer defensive. His wife was no longer interested in finding fault, they were anxious to make new commitments and forget an unpleasant past history. They were teachable and amenable to some very specific counsel.

After his mission, he studied sociology at Villareal University in Lima. But his first love was the performing arts, so he studied those too. In fact, his study of performing had begun much earlier, at age six. He faithfully attended religious instruction classes in the church to which he then belonged because afterward there were old movies for the youngsters, and he was enthralled by the silent film comedy of Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and Harold Lloyd. Cesar was nine when missionaries brought the gospel to his family. By eleven, he was performing in his LDS branch’s talent shows.

After studying at Villareal University, Brother Aedo wanted to go to Europe for more advanced schooling in political science. He worked his way through several South and Central American countries performing as a mime until he had saved enough money to fly to Europe. “I went to Europe on my talent, nothing more,” he recalls.

A series of events he considers providential prevented him from enrolling immediately. He spent several weeks in late 1979 and early 1980 visiting with his sister in Geneva, Switzerland—long enough to determine that instead of political science he wanted to study mime with the man who is widely recognized as the master. Brother Aedo knew that through his faith it would happen, if he persevered. So he returned to Paris and was persistent enough that he was finally able to see Marcel Marceau and become one of his pupils.

He spent three years studying with Monsieur Marceau—not only the art of mime, but also dramatic art, classical and modern dance, acrobatics, and fencing. He was one of the few pupils able to earn his tuition and expenses through weekend performances and summer touring. Now he is studying with the man who taught the master, Monsieur Marceau’s eighty-six-year-old mentor, Etienne Decroux. He is also continuing his study of classical dance.

Comedy is a major part of his art. One of his distinctive sketches depicts a traveler who cannot leave because his overloaded suitcase will not budge. The suitcase hangs at the end of the mime’s arm, all the exertions of his body seemingly unable to move it—until he opens the bag and throws out one handkerchief!

His art also has its serious side. “I have much faith in Christ,” he emphasized, adding that talent is given to us on earth to help others, as the Savior taught. Brother Aedo uses his talent to help in obvious ways, by bringing cheer to others and, he hopes, by portraying uplifting aspects of life.

He likes to dramatize some of the stories of the scriptures. Typically, he illustrates with a demonstration. First, he is the humble, saintly brother making his offering to God, and then he is the proud, jealous, cruel one. An observer can feel the piety of Abel and the wrath of Cain.

Cesar Aedo’s art has also helped others in some very tangible ways. Through performing, he has been able to support one of his brothers on a mission to Canada and to bring two other brothers to Paris for schooling.

“I have been able to help all my family. I don’t want to praise myself; I owe thanks to God that I have been able to do this.”

Now thirty, he attends the Paris Singles Ward. Though his life to this point has been full of work, study, and service to others, he looks forward to marrying and building a family.

“Ya viene,” is his expression, common in Spanish-speaking countries. “It will come.”

“All seven of my cousins are going to be at my grandmother’s house for Mother’s Day,” Sarah said as she watered Mrs. Martin’s seedlings. “We always have a picnic lunch in the backyard.”
“That sounds like a lot of fun,” Mrs. Martin replied, pulling a tiny weed from a pot.
Every spring Sarah and Mrs. Martin, who lived next door, planted pumpkin, watermelon, and squash seeds in clay pots on Mrs. Martin’s sun porch. Later they would move the little sprouts to the garden in the backyard.
“What are you doing for Mother’s Day?” Sarah asked.
“I’m not sure. When is it, anyway?”
Sarah couldn’t believe that a grown-up didn’t know the date of Mother’s Day. At lunch she told Mom what Mrs. Martin had said.
“Well, Sarah, Mrs. Martin no longer has a mother or grandmother who’s alive,” Mom explained. “And since she has no children or grandchildren, it’s not surprising that she wouldn’t think about Mother’s Day.”
Sarah chewed her tomato sandwich thoughtfully. She understood what her mother had said, but something still seemed wrong.
She looked out the window and saw Mrs. Martin feeding dog biscuits to Mr. Anderson’s cocker spaniels. Mrs. Martin didn’t even have a dog, but she always kept a jar of dog treats for any neighborhood dogs who might stop by. And for the dog owners, Mrs. Martin always had a big basket filled with apples or pears.
“It just isn’t right,” Sarah said. “Somebody that nice should celebrate Mother’s Day.”
“I think you’re right,” Mom agreed.
Sarah went up to her room. Her desk was covered with art supplies for the cards she was making for her mom and grandma. She had already sprinkled green and pink glitter on the edges of two cards. She picked up a fresh sheet of paper and started writing.
Mothers and grandmothers are nice.
They give us help when we need help.
They talk to us about important things.
They find fun things for us to do.
They make good things for us to eat.
They give us hugs.
You do all these things, so I am saying Happy Mother’s Day to you!
Love, Sarah
Sarah worked on the card most of the afternoon, drawing vegetables all around its edges. Mrs. Martin always said that she would rather grow vegetables than flowers. She thought pumpkins and watermelons were “gorgeous.”
Then Sarah decorated an envelope to match and carefully printed “To Mrs. Martin” on the outside.
“It’s almost ready,” she said to Scooter, the tabby cat who had been watching from his perch on the windowsill.
“Mom,” Sarah called downstairs. “I need to call Grandma.”
“OK.”
After Sarah made her call, she turned over the card for Mrs. Martin and wrote on the back. Then she put it in the envelope and bounced down the stairs and out the back door.
Mrs. Martin was putting seeds into the bird feeder. “Hello, Sarah,” she called.
“Hi,” Sarah said. “This is for you.” She handed the card to Mrs. Martin.
“Should I open it now?”
“Yes. It’s a Mother’s Day card.”
“For me?” Mrs. Martin asked with surprise. “But today isn’t Mother’s Day!”
“No, but this card has to be opened early.”
Mrs. Martin opened the card and read it slowly. Then she turned it over to read what Sarah had carefully written on the back:
You are invited to be
an Honorary Mother
at a picnic at Grandma’s house
on Mother’s Day—
which is next Sunday.
Please come.
Mrs. Martin smiled. “Thank you, Sarah. Now we both know what I’ll be doing for Mother’s Day!”

When I was about five years old, while my parents built our home, we lived in Salt Lake City, Utah, in an apartment owned by my Aunt Elizabeth. We had heavy snows that winter and then a quick thaw, which caused a tremendous flood to sweep through the area where we lived, bringing rocks and sand with it.
When the flood waters were finally gone, my aunt gave me the task of shoveling the dirt it left behind into a little red wagon and unloading it onto a big mound, which was later hauled away. She paid me one or two cents a wagonload. That was how I earned a large part of the money to buy myself a Red Flyer wagon. What a great thing that was! I thought it was a privilege to have a job. My aunt could have had somebody else do it a lot more quickly and easily, but the experience helped me learn the value of working hard. This lesson has helped me at school, in the mission field, at work, and in other areas of my life.

For 50 years, I have studied culture, including gospel culture. I began with fortune cookies.
In San Francisco’s Chinatown, Gong family dinners concluded with a fortune cookie and a wise saying like “A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.”
As a young adult, I made fortune cookies. Wearing white cotton gloves, I folded and tucked into shape the round cookies hot out of the oven.
To my surprise, I learned fortune cookies are not originally part of Chinese culture. To distinguish Chinese, American, and European fortune cookie culture, I looked for fortune cookies on multiple continents—just as one would use multiple locations to triangulate a forest fire. Chinese restaurants in San Francisco, Los Angeles, and New York serve fortune cookies, but not those in Beijing, London, or Sydney. Only Americans celebrate National Fortune Cookie Day. Only Chinese advertisements offer “Authentic American Fortune Cookies.”
Fortune cookies are a fun, simple example. But the same principle of comparing practices in different cultural settings can help us distinguish gospel culture. And now the Lord is opening new opportunities to learn gospel culture as Book of Mormon allegory and New Testament parable prophecies are fulfilled.
Everywhere people are moving. The United Nations reports 281 million international migrants. This is 128 million more individuals than in 1990 and more than three times 1970 estimates. Everywhere, record numbers of converts are finding The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Every Sabbath, members and friends from 195 birth countries and territories gather in 31,916 Church congregations. We speak 125 languages.
Recently, in Albania, North Macedonia, Kosovo, Switzerland, and Germany, I witnessed new members fulfilling the Book of Mormon allegory of the olive tree. In Jacob 5, the Lord of the vineyard and his servants strengthen both olive tree roots and branches by gathering and grafting together those from diverse locations. Today children of God gather as one in Jesus Christ; the Lord offers a remarkable natural means to expand our lived fulness of His restored gospel.
Preparing us for the kingdom of heaven, Jesus tells the parables of the great supper and wedding feast. In these parables, invited guests make excuses not to come. The master instructs his servants to “go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city” and “the highways and hedges” to “bring in hither” the poor, maimed, halt, and blind. Spiritually speaking, that’s each of us.
Scripture declares:
“All nations shall be invited” unto “a supper of the house of the Lord.”
“Prepare ye the way of the Lord, … that his kingdom may go forth upon the earth, that the inhabitants thereof may receive it, and be prepared for the days to come.”
Today those invited to the supper of the Lord come from every place and culture. Old and young, rich and poor, local and global, we make our Church congregations look like our communities.
As chief Apostle, Peter saw heaven open a vision of “a great sheet knit at the four corners, … wherein were all manner of … beasts.” Taught Peter: “Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons. … In every nation he that feareth [the Lord], and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.”
In the parable of the good Samaritan, Jesus invites us to come to each other and to Him in His inn—His Church. He invites us to be good neighbors. The good Samaritan promises to return and recompense the care of those in His inn. Living the gospel of Jesus Christ includes making room for all in His restored Church.
The spirit of “room in the inn” includes “no one sits alone.” When you come to church, if you see someone alone, will you please say hello and sit with him or her? This may not be your custom. The person may look or speak differently than you. And of course, as a fortune cookie might say, “A journey of gospel friendship and love begins with a first hello and no one sitting alone.”
“No one sits alone” also means no one sits alone emotionally or spiritually. I went with a brokenhearted father to visit his son. Years earlier, the son was excited to become a new deacon. The occasion included his family buying him his first pair of new shoes.
But at church, the deacons laughed at him. His shoes were new, but not fashionable. Embarrassed and hurt, the young deacon said he would never go again to church. My heart is still broken for him and his family.
On the dusty roads to Jericho, each of us has been laughed at, embarrassed and hurt, perhaps scorned or abused. And with varying degrees of intent, each of us has also disregarded, not seen or heard, perhaps deliberately hurt others. It is precisely because we have been hurt and have hurt others that Jesus Christ brings us all to His inn. In His Church and through His ordinances and covenants, we come to each other and to Jesus Christ. We love and are loved, serve and are served, forgive and are forgiven. Please remember, “earth has no sorrow that heav’n cannot heal”; earth burdens lighten—our Savior’s joy is real.
In 1 Nephi 19, we read: “Even the very God of Israel do [they] trample under their feet; … they set him at naught. … Wherefore they scourge him, and he suffereth it; and they smite him, and he suffereth it. Yea, they spit upon him, and he suffereth it.”
My friend Professor Terry Warner says the judging, scourging, smiting, and spitting were not occasional events that occurred only during Christ’s mortal life. How we treat each other—especially the hungry, the thirsty, those left out alone—is how we treat Him.
In His restored Church, we are all better when no one sits alone. Let us not simply accommodate or tolerate. Let us genuinely welcome, acknowledge, minister to, love. May each friend, sister, brother not be a foreigner or stranger but a child at home.
Today many feel lonely and isolated. Social media and artificial intelligence can leave us yearning for human closeness and human touch. We want to hear each other’s voices. We want authentic belonging and kindness.
There are many reasons we may feel we do not fit in at church—that, speaking figuratively, we sit alone. We may worry about our accent, clothes, family situation. Perhaps we feel inadequate, smell of smoke, yearn for moral cleanliness, have broken up with someone and feel hurt and embarrassed, are concerned about this or that Church policy. We may be single, divorced, widowed. Our children are noisy; we don’t have children. We didn’t serve a mission or came home early. The list goes on.
Mosiah 18:21 invites us to knit our hearts together in love. I invite us to worry less, judge less, be less demanding of others—and, when needed, be less hard on ourselves. We do not create Zion in a day. But each “hello,” each warm gesture, brings Zion closer. Let us trust the Lord more and choose joyfully to obey all His commandments.
Doctrinally, in the household of faith and fellowship of the Saints, no one sits alone because of covenant belonging in Jesus Christ.
Taught the Prophet Joseph Smith: “It is left for us to see, participate in and help to roll forward the Latter-day glory, ‘the dispensation of the fullness of times … ,’ when the Saints of God will be gathered in one from every nation, and kindred, and people.”
God “doeth not anything save it be for the benefit of the world; … that he may draw all men [and women] unto him. …
“… He inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; … and all are alike unto God.”
Conversion in Jesus Christ requires us to put off the natural man and worldly culture. As President Dallin H. Oaks teaches, we are to give up any tradition and cultural practice that is contrary to the commandments of God and to become Latter-day Saints. He explains, “There is a unique gospel culture, a set of values and expectations and practices common to all [the] members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” Gospel culture includes chastity, weekly attendance at church, abstaining from alcohol, tobacco, tea, and coffee. It includes honesty and integrity, understanding we move forward, not upward or downward, in Church positions.
I learn from faithful members and friends in every land and culture. Scriptures studied in multiple languages and cultural perspectives deepen gospel understanding. Different expressions of Christlike attributes deepen my love and understanding of my Savior. All are blessed when we define our cultural identity, as President Russell M. Nelson taught, as a child of God, a child of the covenant, a disciple of Jesus Christ.
The peace of Jesus Christ is meant for us personally. Recently a young man earnestly asked, “Elder Gong, can I still go to heaven?” He wondered if he could ever be forgiven. I asked his name, listened carefully, invited him to talk with his bishop, gave him a big hug. He left with hope in Jesus Christ.
I mentioned the young man in another setting. Later I received an unsigned letter that began, “Elder Gong, my wife and I have raised nine kids … and served two missions.” But “I always felt I would not be allowed in the celestial kingdom … because my sins as a youth were so bad!”
The letter continued, “Elder Gong, when you told about the young man gaining hope of forgiveness, I was filled with joy, beginning to realize that maybe I [could be forgiven].” The letter concludes, “I even like myself now!”
Covenant belonging deepens as we come to each other and to the Lord in His inn. The Lord blesses us all when no one sits alone. And who knows? Maybe the person we sit next to may become our best fortune cookie friend. May we find and make place for Him and each other at the supper of the Lamb, I humbly pray in the holy name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Anna stood on her right foot, then on her left, then on her toes. “Hold still, Anna! I can’t possibly comb your hair with you dancing all around the room!” scolded Mother. Anna tried very hard to stand still, but her thoughts were not still. She was excited and a little bit frightened too.
This was Anna’s first day at a new school. Will the children like me? she wondered. Will I like them? What will my teacher be like?
Mother finally put the comb down and said, “Good-bye, dear. I hope you’ll enjoy your new school.”
Anna kissed her mother and skipped down the street, watching for other children on their way to school.
“Hi!” shouted Bobby as he came up behind her. Anna didn’t have time to answer as he zoomed past her and around the corner, pretending he was a rocket. She saw three girls come out of a house and walk toward school, but they were too far ahead for her to catch up with them. She walked to school alone.
The closer she came to the school, the slower she walked. Finally, she came to the school steps. “One, two, three, four, five,” she counted as she walked up the steps and into the building.
Anna stayed close to the wall as she listened to the children laughing in the hall. The principal had said to report to Miss Hanson in room five. Anna thought, Five, five, glad to be alive. But her legs trembled as she went into the room.
Miss Hanson greeted Anna with a pleasant smile. “Hello, dear, you must be our new student.”
Anna nodded as she looked around the room.
“I’m Miss Hanson, Anna. Why don’t you sit in that empty desk by the window?”
Just as the timid girl sat down the bell rang. Children spilled into the room like marbles rolling from a bag.
The school work was easy, for the lessons were much like those at Anna’s other school. But when Miss Hanson said, “Today we are going to be seeds,” Anna blinked her eyes in surprise. Had she heard correctly?
Miss Hanson led the children to the multi-purpose room. Anna didn’t know how to be a seed. I’m just a girl, she thought. The other children giggled and whispered in anticipation. They were happy to be playing this game. They knew how to be seeds. Miss Hanson talked about being a seed in the ground and about growing into a plant. Anna watched the children wiggle and stretch. She knew they were not seeds and she couldn’t pretend to be one. She was a girl!
When Miss Hanson excused the children that day she smiled at Anna and said, “Your work is fine, dear. I hope you’ll like it here. See you tomorrow.”
Anna did like school. She made new friends. She liked to read and she was learning her multiplication tables. But Anna simply couldn’t make believe like the other children did.
Another day when Miss Hanson said, “We can be butterflies,” Anna was the only child who did not smile. When Linda passed a scarf to each child, Anna could only watch with big eyes as the children rushed about the room waving their scarves. How can they believe they are butterflies? she wondered.
Miss Hanson encouraged Anna. “Come with me. Just flap your scarf and fly.”
Anna took a few steps, but it was no good. She was not a butterfly. She was just a girl holding a scarf. Miss Hanson put her arm around Anna’s shoulder and said, “Maybe next time, dear. Don’t feel sad that you can’t pretend to be a butterfly yet.”
Anna thought a lot about what Miss Hanson said. She thought about it at school, and she thought about it at home.
The next afternoon Miss Hanson said, “I think it’s time we do some artwork. Let’s draw flowers.”
As Susan passed out large sheets of paper, Anna sat with her elbow on the desk, chin in hand.
Flowers, fooey! thought Anna. What fun are red tulips with three tips? But when she looked around the room, she could not believe her eyes. Phil’s paper was covered with many green blossoms. Karen drew a large daisy with at least a hundred petals. Bobby’s paper was the most peculiar of all. His pink and gray flowers looked like spiders or something that would grow on Mars. How can they think up such unusual flowers? Anna wondered.
Then she smiled and put down the red crayon and picked up a blue one. “Why not?” she whispered and began drawing. She drew tall flowers and short flowers, fat flowers and thin flowers. She used every crayon in her box. It was fun. It was exciting! Anna was happy. Miss Hanson had a wide smile when she put Anna’s picture on the bulletin board.
A few days later Miss Hanson said, “This afternoon let’s all be birds.”
Anna was ready. She chose a bright orange scarf with green trim. At first she walked slowly and flapped the scarf. Then she began to feel light and graceful. She flapped her arms. She danced. She became an orange bird soaring in the sky. Anna learned to fly!
That afternoon when she returned from school, her mother asked, “What did you do today?”
Anna answered, “I was a bird!” Then she took a bite of a juicy apple and ran outside to play.

I wish you could have been with us as Lee Grisham and I spent last Christmas in the Holy Land. Lee and I had been companions together in the mission field and had received permission to visit the Holy Land en route home. I was a typical Latter-day Saint who had read all my life about the Holy Land, and Lee was a Jewish convert of a few years. So together we shared a desire to visit the land of his forefathers.
We flew into Tel Aviv, where the climate was warm. Once there, we quickly learned how Israelis try to make the best of everything—on the bus ride into town we listened to excerpts from a Haydn symphony to help us forget the rough ride.
The next day we went by bus to Jerusalem, where instead of seeing our mental image of a 20,000-year-old town, we were shocked to find a very large and somewhat modern city, although it is divided into what are called the old and new sections. But the old city really doesn’t have too much to do with Jesus’ life, as much of it was built by the Crusaders and others. Rome destroyed the Jerusalem Jesus knew, leaving not “one stone upon another.” (Mark 13:2.)
After we had seen these sights and many more in Jerusalem, we spent several days in other parts of the Holy Land. One special thrill was conducting our own little sacrament meeting, having been previously authorized, on the shores of Lake Galilee, where our bread was broken from the Jewish bagel and the water came from the sea. A few days later, after having walked the hills, put our bare feet into the rough soil, tasted the water, felt the cold night air, and heard the bleat of the sheep, we found that the scriptures had become a living reality to us. But that wasn’t all. We had tried to follow in the actual footsteps of Jesus. Now our hearts tell us to follow the Savior in all the other paths of living that he has set for us. With the help of the Spirit, I know we can all do it.

“CQ … CQ (calling any station) … This is N7NGT, November seven November golf tango. Calling CQ from the state of Wyoming and standing by.”
The static of the radio fills the silence. Then the 16-year-old, red-haired girl, call sign N7NGT, leans over the microphone, presses the button, and repeats her call to the world on her father’s ham radio.
For a moment she wonders, Is anyone out there listening?
Does anyone want to talk to Shauna Richards in Rock Springs, Wyoming?
A moment later a voice answers Shauna’s call. In fact, in a little over an hour Shauna talks to people in Australia, New Zealand, Japan—all over. These people all have amateur radio licenses. They also have their own lingo, called Q signals. Shauna enjoys talking to strangers, who quickly become friends, about what their lives are like and what they like best about their hometowns. And in emergencies, they use their radios to relay messages out of the emergency area to comfort worried relatives and friends when other methods of communication fail. Ham radio is a good hobby for someone who likes to talk. And Shauna likes to talk.
Talking wasn’t always something that Shauna liked to do. In junior high school, she was really shy. But now that she’s a junior in high school, she’s found out there are lots of shy people, potential friends just waiting for someone else to talk first. When Shauna gives advice to her younger sisters, Talia and Crystal, about how to improve their junior high years, she says, “I wish I had talked to more people. I know I would have made more friends if I had talked more. I am still scared to talk to anyone …”
Shauna pauses a moment and glances at her best friend, Kristy Call, who interrupts and says, “especially boys.”
Shauna nods in agreement. “Yes, especially boys. There are people who grow up talking to people, and they are friendly and have no problem doing that. I try to smile and try not to look like I’m nervous, but it’s hard. I’ve been trying to open up more.”
Anyone who is lucky enough to meet Shauna would be shocked to find out that she thinks she’s shy and not able to talk easily with people. This is a girl who won the national Hiram Percy Maxim Award, given each year to one young person in the United States who has done the most to promote amateur radio and still live a well-rounded life filled with leadership responsibilities and good grades in school.
Outside interests are certainly not lacking in Shauna’s life. It takes her a minute to recite the whole list. “I play the piano and the flute and sing in the choir.” Then things start to get complicated. “But choir and band are the same hours at school as orchestra, so I play in the jazz band and orchestra at the college so I can still play my flute. I can’t choose between piano and flute. I don’t have a favorite; I love them both. I’m on the swim team, and we have practices before and after school. I’m in the drama club and the French club. And I’m going to enter the science fair again this year. I want to learn to play the guitar. You can’t carry a piano around with you. You can take a flute, but you can’t sing while you’re playing the flute. If you have a guitar, you can play and sing. I can take guitar lessons at school, but then I’d have to drop one of my other classes, and I don’t want to drop anything. I’ll get a job and pay for lessons. If I can’t, I’ll get a guitar book and teach myself.”
Whew! Remember, Shauna likes to talk now.
But the list isn’t finished yet. She was on the student council and plays the piano at church and loves Young Women activities. She was in dance, but had to give it up for the piano. And she’s really upset that she can’t work a speech class into her school schedule.
We have to ask her dad, Kerry. Do you see Shauna strung out doing too much? He laughs, “All the time.”
Wouldn’t it be a good thing if she just dropped a few things? That’s not an acceptable solution to Shauna. She likes to try lots of things even if she isn’t the star at any of them. It’s the way she has fun. And she’s got a great mother, Johanna, who helps her find ways to learn the things she wants to learn.
“We never told Shauna that anything is too hard,” says Johanna. “If she’s doing something to impress someone or to get attention, then we figure it’s not a good enough reason. But if she really wants to learn something, then we’ll help her find a way.”
One of the things that definitely does not get shoved aside is church. “This past year,” says Shauna, “I would say my prayers and read the scriptures, but it was just words. Then I started really reading the scriptures and listening to other people’s testimonies. I know I got extra help to make it through the day and not fall asleep in classes and get good grades. All this year, I’ve been listening to people and watching my older friends and finding out the special things they know because of the Church and seminary. I don’t have a strong, strong, strong testimony yet, but it’s growing. I know I can feel the Spirit at different times.”
Shauna is quick to acknowledge the help of her family and teachers. “There’s a lot of people who help me and encourage me. I’m not this wonderful person who can do everything on my own—like Joseph Smith who went out and found the truth by himself.”
Pretty neat girl. And she doesn’t let her handicap get in the way.
Wait a minute. What handicap?
What could possibly be wrong with this cute redhead with sparkling blue eyes and great personality?
Not much because she doesn’t let it get in her way. But one of her eyes (it’s hard to tell which) doesn’t work. She was born with sight in only one eye.
“I don’t know what it’s like to see out of two eyes,” says Shauna. “It’s harder for me to do some things, like sports. In basketball, I shoot and it looks like the ball is going to go over the top of the basket, but it doesn’t even get close. I have to practice to get the feel of how I need to shoot.
“When I draw pictures in art, they always turn out different from other people’s. But the art teachers like that, so it’s okay. Just because I can’t see out of one eye doesn’t mean I can’t play the piano.”
Shauna’s differences have made her more empathetic with others. In some important ways, Shauna sees a little more clearly than many people with two working eyes. Her dad says, “She can see when someone is hurting. She sees, in a crowd of girls, when one girl is being left out.”
Actually, amateur radio fits in with Shauna’s overriding interest in helping people. She has helped people who have been in accidents or have broken down on the highway by relaying messages to the police or tow trucks. Everything Shauna learns and every new person Shauna talks to broadens her understanding of the world. She continues to find ways to expand the boundaries of what she knows and what she can know. Shauna’s world continues to get bigger.
But it’s getting late. Time to sign off.
“Thanks for the QSO (conversation). Please QSL (send me a postcard). This is Shauna N7NGT clear. 73s (best regards).”
You can decode this message written in Morse code from Shauna by comparing each group of dots and dashes to the Morse code chart. When you figure out the letters, write them down and you will have Shauna’s message to you.

To become consistently charitable is a lifelong quest, but each act of love changes us and those who offer it. Let me tell you the story of a young woman I met recently. Alicia, as a teenager, had drifted far from the Church, but later she felt stirrings to return. She often visited her grandfather in a retirement home on Sundays. On one of those days she decided to attend the Latter-day Saint meetings there. She opened the door and found a Relief Society meeting, but no empty seats. As she was about to leave, a woman motioned to her and scooted over to make room for her on her chair. Alicia said: “I wondered what the woman would think of me. I was covered with body piercings, and I smelled of smoke. But she didn’t seem to mind; she simply made a place for me at her side.”
Alicia, heartened by this woman’s charity, returned to activity. She has served a mission and is now sharing that same kind of love with other women. The elderly sister who shared her chair understood that there is a place for every woman in Relief Society. Sisters, we gather for strength, but we bring with us all our weaknesses and imperfections.
Alicia told me something I will never forget. She said: “I only do one thing for myself when I go to church: I take the sacrament for me. The rest of the time I watch for others who need me, and I try to help and nurture them.”

My friends and I were doing a play. There was a girl nobody talked to. My friend said something mean about her, and I did too. I felt really bad about it. The next day my friend made fun of her again. I said, “Maybe she needs a friend.” I went and talked to her. I told her she was doing a good job. She smiled for the rest of practice. I was glad I could make her day a little brighter.
Lauren C., age 11, Utah, USA

I am not easy to wake up in the morning. My mum used to declare that she needed a crane to wake me up for early-morning seminary. So it came as no surprise that in my first year at university, I was one of the few who didn’t wake up to the fire alarm practice. Luckily, I had friends who came to my room and collected me.
Later that day we were discussing the morning’s events and laughing about what had happened, when another girl asked what I would do if the fire alarm went off for real. I was taken aback by the question but soon realized the gravity of the situation. One of my friends replied that she would come and warn me, and other friends assured me that they would check if I had left the building before they did. They would do this because they loved me.
That night I thought of the Lord’s commandment recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 88:81: “Behold, I sent you out to testify and warn the people, and it becometh every man who hath been warned to warn his neighbor.”
I realized that just as being warned of potential fires is important for my temporal welfare, so my sharing the gospel message is important for my friends’ spiritual lives. Just as they loved me enough to warn me of dangers, I realized that I loved them enough to share my knowledge of the gospel with them. That night I recommitted myself to obeying the commandment of the Lord by testifying of Jesus Christ and warning my neighbor.

One night in Chicago, my wife, June, and I were taking a sister home from a ward meeting. I parked outside the apartment house and accompanied the sister into the lobby and to her door. June remained in the car and locked all the doors. I left the key in the ignition in case she needed to drive away. We lived on the south side of Chicago and were accustomed to taking such precautions.
Before returning outside, I looked carefully in each direction. I saw three young men walking by, so I waited until they were out of sight, and then I walked quickly toward our car.
As I paused for June to unlock the car door, I saw one of the young men running back toward me. Fortunately June saw him coming around the end of the car with a gun in his hand and didn’t unlock the door.
The young man pushed the gun against my stomach and said, “Give me your money.” I took out my wallet and showed him it was empty.
“Give me your car keys,” he demanded. “They are in the car,” I told him. “Tell her to open the car,” he replied. When I refused, he was furious. He jabbed me in the stomach with his gun and said, “Do it, or I’ll kill you.” Again I refused. He repeated his demands, again emphasizing them with his gun.
Not knowing what else to do, June waited and prayed. Then a peaceful feeling came over her, and she felt that everything would be all right.
From behind the robber, a city bus approached. The young man became distracted, and his gun wavered from my stomach. I realized that with a quick motion I could seize the gun without the likelihood of being shot.
But just then the Spirit let me know what would happen if I grabbed that gun: We’d struggle, and I would turn the gun into the young man’s chest. It would fire, and he would die. I also understood that I must not have the blood of that young man on my conscience for the rest of my life.
I relaxed and, following an impulse, put my right hand on his shoulder. “Look,” I said. “What you’re doing just isn’t right. You could get killed or sent to jail for this.”
The young robber went through his demands for the third time, but this time his voice was subdued. When I refused again, he hesitated for a moment, then ran away. June unlocked the door, and we drove off, uttering a prayer of thanks.
I am grateful that the Lord gave me the vision and strength that night to refrain from trusting in the arm of flesh and to put my trust instead in the protecting care of our Heavenly Father.

A few years ago, I began to notice that things around me were beginning to darken. It troubled me because simple things like reading the print in my scriptures were becoming more difficult. I wondered what had happened to the quality of the lightbulbs and wondered why manufacturers today couldn’t make things like they had in years past.

I replaced the bulbs with brighter ones. They too became dim. I blamed the poor design of the lamps and bulbs. I even questioned whether the brightness of the sun was fading before the thought occurred to me that the problem might not be with the amount of light in the room—the problem might be with my own eyes.

Shortly thereafter, I went to an ophthalmologist who assured me that the world was not going dark at all. A cataract on my eye was the reason the light seemed to be fading. This certainly gives you my age. I placed my faith in the capable hands of this trained specialist, the cataract was removed, and behold, light again flooded my life! The light had never diminished; only my capacity to see the light had been lessened.

This taught me a profound truth. Often when the world seems dark, when the heavens seem distant, we seek to blame everything around us, when the real cause of the darkness may be a lack of faith within ourselves.