Gospel Story Finder

“One memory that I have of my grandmother painting comes from when I was about 9 or 10 years old. For a while some of my cousins and siblings and I would go to my grandma’s studio each week to work on drawing, painting and sketching with her. During this time, she was painting a depiction of Christ and the Samaritan woman at the well. I remember whenever I saw her painting, every brush stroke was very careful and very intentional— though I was young and often didn’t really notice the difference that each individual brush stroke made. Each week we returned to her studio, and you could start seeing the difference and the changes and that it was closer and closer to being the beautiful, finished product that it is today. In some way I can’t help but think that is how the Lord can help us to one day become complete.”

The story is told that when Leonardo da Vinci resolved to paint the Last Supper, he threw all of his energies into the work. He labored diligently; he spared no pains. He studied and probed and pondered the New Testament, which related the experience of the Master and recorded the first sacramental feast, in order that he might do his best to realize and to reproduce this great, memorable scene. After it was finished he invited a few very close friends, whose opinions he valued very highly, to critique the work that he had done. They gazed upon it with great concern and attention and then one of the critics viewing it spoke with great admiration of the golden chalice on the table at which our Lord and his disciples sat. He said, “Its shape, its color, its size, its symmetry—it represents all that could be desired.” Then he said, “This is the most beautiful object in the painting.” At this time da Vinci surprised everybody: he picked up a brush with black paint and immediately stroked across the face of the canvas. And then he said, “If what you tell me is true, then my picture is a failure, for I meant my Master’s face to be the chief and most beautiful object.” This reflects so much of life as it is. As we invest our lives and our talents, let us be sure that these investments reflect the highest of our intentions.

George Hay was born in Erskine, Scotland, in 1836. His parents, Alexander and Jessie, were the first members to be baptised in Scotland on January 14, 1840. With his parents, he sailed for America from Liverpool, England, in 1841. They landed at New Orleans on October 19, 1841, from where they proceeded to Nauvoo, the Latter-day Saint city in Illinois.
Church records confirm that Alexander Hay was ordained a seventy in 1846, and Alexander and Jessie received their own endowments in the Nauvoo Temple. In September 1848, hearing of opportunities in Texas, and seeking a land free from the antagonism directed at that time to Latter-day Saints, the family started their journey with others to Texas in wagons drawn by mules. A long trip was ahead of them with all sorts of dangers and perils, but fearlessly the little band pursued their journey. George Hay was then a small boy, 12 years of age.
Their destination was Zodiac, a Latter-day Saint settlement on the Pedernales River, which they reached after nearly three months on the road. In company with a large party of Latter-day Saints, they decided to transfer their location to the county of Bandera, reaching there in March 1854. On his arrival in Bandera, George subsequently said, “This was a beautiful country then, a wilderness it is true, but inviting and offering our people wonderful possibilities.”
George Hay was appointed deputy clerk, then county clerk, and then became Judge George Hay of Bandera County, Texas—so a boy from Bishopton, in the Paisley Scotland Stake, became Judge of Bandera County, Texas.
Judge Hay says, “In 1861, when the Civil War came on, … I was commissioned a lieutenant, but being an officer made no difference to me. I went into ranks, stood guard, and performed all the duties of a private.”
He continues, “There are many thrilling incidents connected with the history of this country. Many tragedies have taken place, many hardships were endured by the first settlers, … many of our sons have gone out and won high places in the world, many of our daughters have married and raised manly sons and lovely daughters who are today filling places of usefulness in different parts of the country. I am proud that I can look back upon the sixty-nine years that I have spent here and realise the wonderful changes that have taken place, all for the betterment of mankind and the glory of American manhood and womanhood that brought these things to pass.”
Judge Hay spent his declining years at the old family homestead in Bandera, where for many years he and his good wife kept open house to travellers and entertained many distinguished visitors under their roof.
George Hay died at the age 89 on 6 February 1925 and was buried in Bandera. His wife, Virginia, passed away in Bandera on 6 November 1941 at the age of 97.
This story can be found in the Hondo Anvil Herald newspaper, Texas USA1.

After the meeting, several students shared how they heard about the Church from Pavel Agafonov.
Pavel learned of the Church in March 1990, while studying engineering and psychology in the United States. Previously, he had visited many other churches, asking hard questions. “None of the churches I visited could answer the questions I had,” explains Pavel. “I wanted a real church, one that knows God today.”
He was baptized in April 1990, then began bringing his friends. Since then, his two roommates, Andrei Chromovskich, another engineering and psychology major, and Vladimir Shestakov, a semi-professional basketball player and athletics major, have both joined the Church. Another friend of Pavel’s named Valeri Pomazanov, who studies at the institute of teachers, has also joined the Church. These young men agree that there is no other place where they’ve found as much closeness, both emotionally and spiritually, as they’ve found in the Church.

A dance festival? Sharon Leo had never seen one, and now she was invited to dance in one. An 18-year-old nonmember living in central Utah, Sharon had been around Mormons all of her life. Now her friend Jolynne Taylor of the Orem Utah Sharon West Stake had asked Sharon to join her in a five-stake dance festival to be held in the huge BYU Marriott Center. With reservations, Sharon accepted.
Rehearsals occupied every Saturday morning for months as Sharon found herself practicing square dances, Swiss polkas, disco numbers, karate exercise numbers, Greek line dances, the English quadrille (her specialty), and many other dances with 600 fathers, mothers, young adults, teens, and children. Sharon’s view of Mormonism began to expand as she met new people and made more friends.
Then there were the costumes to make. While Sharon was struggling to put in a zipper and get the length of her costume correct, others were also sewing like crazy—especially where whole families were participating. Cori Dawn Anderson, 16, of the Orem Utah Sharon West Stake, commented, “Being in the dance festival as a whole family was a good experience. The hardest part was making seven costumes in two weeks. But with everyone helping and sewing in their spare time, we got them all finished. It was really fun, and despite all the work, it was worth it.”
During the rush of practices and costume making, Sharon Leo began taking the missionary discussions.
As Sharon grew in gospel knowledge, the dance festival grew in excitement among its participants. Bishops, stake presidents, and high council members responded to the challenge to participate and brought their families. Miriam Abegg, 17, whose father is on the Orem Utah West Central Stake high council said, “The dance festival was fantastic! I could feel that the Lord’s Spirit was with us during our performance. And I enjoyed practicing with my family. It helped me to see my dad with different eyes—enjoying square dancing, whirling and throwing my mom and us kids up in the air. It was a lot of work, but it was fun to work with other people—especially my own family, even though my brother did drop me on the floor one time.”
Suddenly, the day of the performance was upon them. Between the final dress rehearsal and the evening performance, a different kind of event took place. As Sharon’s family, friends, missionaries, teachers, and priesthood administrators watched, she stepped into the waters of baptism. Jolynne’s father performed the baptism, and Jolynne’s mother accompanied the hymns at the piano. Jolynne waited at the top of the baptismal steps to be the first to give Sharon a hug of fellowship. It was a beautiful time of reverence in an exciting day.
The dance performance filled the evening. As the Marriott Center darkened, over 6,000 spectators sat waiting. Suddenly the lights flashed on to the throb of Star Wars music, and the youth and their families began a spectacular show complete with bright lights, colorful costumes, and exciting dances. The dance numbers that had been such stumbling blocks—difficult to learn, difficult to find music for—suddenly were magnificent. The costumes, made mostly from donated materials, looked professional. The organization and technical details, so ragged in rehearsal, suddenly ran smoothly and professionally.
As Joycelynn Demaree, the costume chairman, remarked, “There were so many little miracles and acts of faith that took place during the putting on of the festival. It was a lot of hard work, but to see the whole thing come together was worth every minute of the thousands of hours involved.”

A true story from South Africa.
Allyson’s heart pounded. It was almost her turn to give her history presentation. She had practiced again and again with her mom the night before. But still, she felt really nervous. She hated talking in front of people!
“Next up is Allyson,” Mrs. Tanner said. “Please come present your report.”
Allyson stood up from her desk and nervously walked to the front of the classroom. She looked out into the faces of her classmates and took a shaky breath. Her palms felt sweaty. She wiped them on her school uniform.
She opened her mouth to start. But suddenly she didn’t know what to say. Everyone was staring at her, waiting for her to speak. It felt like all the words she had memorized were stuck in her throat. Her stomach felt all twisty.
Then Allyson remembered something. A few weeks ago, her dad had told her a story about how he prayed for the Holy Ghost to help him.
Quickly Allyson said a prayer in her mind. Heavenly Father, she prayed, please help me be calm and do well with my presentation. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
As soon as Allyson finished her prayer, the panic began to melt away. Her shoulders relaxed, and her mind felt clear.
This time when she opened her mouth, the words came easily. “My report is on the early settlers in South Africa in the 1600s,” she said. She shared the facts she had memorized. As she got to the end of her presentation, a feeling of happiness spread through her. She had done it!
Allyson sat down with a smile on her face. Her report wasn’t perfect, but she was really proud of how she did.
“Hey,” her friend Emily whispered from the desk beside her. “You did so good! I thought you hated talking in front of people.”
Allyson laughed quietly. “I thought so too! I just prayed and asked God for help, and He helped me.”
Emily was quiet for a second. Then she whispered, “Wow, maybe I should pray more too.”
As the next student began, Allyson thought about what had just happened. She felt so different after saying her prayer. The Holy Ghost really had helped her feel calm and brave!
Allyson said another quick prayer in her mind. Thank Thee, Heavenly Father, she prayed. Thank Thee for sending the Holy Ghost to help me.

Years passed and I moved. As much as I hated to leave my Church friends, I soon found another group of sisters with strong testimonies and big hearts in the Relief Society in “my” new ward. A Relief Society teacher gave us a decorated to-do list and encouraged us to write “Be kind” at the top of our lists each day. The sisters sitting beside me and I thought it was a grand idea, especially since it supported the Relief Society motto “Charity never faileth” (Moroni 7:46).

Then I read a story about a pioneer woman. When that woman was a child, the prophet asked her family to help settle a Latter-day Saint community in a remote area. Tragedy befell when one of her siblings died. Her mother was distraught, and deep sadness permeated the family.

One day this little girl was looking out the window. As far as she could see, a blanket of snow surrounded the family’s modest home. As the little girl stared at the horizon, she saw two people trudging toward the house. On they came, slowly making their way, and suddenly the child realized who they were—they were her mother’s visiting teachers.

That story inspired me. I was baptized in May 1983. It is an honor to be a visiting teacher myself. I love associating with so many women who exemplify the “virtuous woman” whose “price is far above rubies” (Proverbs 31:10). It is wonderful to be with women who are also striving to be kind, to love one another, and to bring others unto Christ.

Recently, in handling some souvenirs which I possess, I held in my hand a pocket piece which reminded me of a pleasant experience.
Several years ago, boarding an aircraft in Denver to return to Salt Lake City, having been invited to be a member of the Church Building Committee, I met a member of our staff making the same journey. With him was a gentleman he had chanced to meet. Seated in the aircraft together, we engaged ourselves in conversation. I asked the gentleman about his present occupation. He informed us that he was a building engineer, presently engaged in building a church in one of the larger cities in the state of Texas. He recounted to us some of the frustrating experiences that he and their finance committee had in raising funds from the members of his church; they had tried most everything such as direct solicitations, dinners, bazaars, some games of chance—none of which was very successful.
To solve the financial problem, they called a special meeting. It was during this meeting, he said, that they had come upon a capital idea, after someone had suggested going to the scriptures to try the Lord’s way. The scripture came from Malachi:
“Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.” (Mal. 3:10.)
From this the committee conceived a unique idea of getting that message to their members by coining a pocket piece made of copper with a coating to make it appear as a bright gold coin, about the size of a fifty-cent piece, inscribed on one side with the words, “One tenth is the Lord’s” and on the other side, “Bring ye all the tithes and I will pour you out a blessing that there shall not be room enough to receive it.”
These coins, he said, were distributed to the members. The thought was that as the men would reach into their pockets and the ladies into their purses for change, the bright gold coin would be the first item they would see, and it would remind them of their duty. He smiled and handed to each of us the souvenir coin and said: “This was successful! The people have responded and now we are moving ahead with our project.”
As he said that, I thought, “A true principle discovered, properly applied, brings a correct result.”
After some pause, he turned the conversation to us and queried of us as to our present endeavors, to which we replied: “Coincidentally, we too are engaged in building churches, employed by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
“How many churches are you building?” he asked.
“At present, a few hundred,” was the reply.
A surprised look appeared on his face. “That’s a lot of buildings! How in the world do you pay for them? Where do you get the money?”
“From our Church membership, and coincidentally again, the great secret you discovered in the principle of tithing has been a tenet of the Lord’s Church from the early days of its restoration,” was the reply.
This afforded an extensive discussion of the great devotion of the Latter-day Saints, not only in paying their tithing, their fast offerings, additional construction funds, temple funds, welfare funds, budgets, missionary funds, etc., but also of their giving much of their free time in Church services, in the administration of and participation in the Church programs. We explained the extensive missionary program and the devotion of our young people to it. He seemed intensely interested, sat back in his seat, and thoughtfully said: “That’s amazing! You must have something we do not have.”

The class presidencies of the Young Men and Young Women of the Oakland First Ward, Oakland California Stake, discovered that good leadership skills are developed first through training and then through experience. In a day-long leadership seminar, they learned the basics of conducting an effective meeting, understanding and choosing a proper leadership style, setting goals, and outlining specific activities for the coming year.
The participants were told to meet at a designated train terminal before taking the train into San Francisco. After the BART ride, the group walked to one of the more prominent skyscrapers in the city, where they found a conference room ready for them. Seminars on various aspects of leadership were held all day.
As a surprise conclusion to the day, the group was taken on a ferryboat trip to Angel Island for dinner and an active game of baseball. They made their way back to the train for the trip home after a full and busy day.

When you first heard the phrase, “I’m going to cook your goose,” you probably thought, I don’t even have a goose! Of course, the expression actually means that you’re done for. “Cook your goose” has several different stories behind it. A common one tells of a besieged English town in the sixteenth century. The townspeople, tired of their attackers, hung a dead goose from the city wall to show that they still had plenty of food. The leader of the invading army, Eric the Mad of Sweden, became very angry, for the goose had long stood for silliness and stupidity. Feeling that the people were calling him dumb, Eric burned the town to the ground—he cooked their goose!

While I was a mission president in Texas, I was informed that a particular missionary had lost his testimony and wanted to go home. Some checking disclosed that doubts of the divinity of his call had been planted in the young man’s mind by an investigator. In an interview with the so-called investigator, I experienced special powers of discernment that enabled me to know that the man was a minister of another faith, posing as a college student and pretending to be an honest investigator of Mormonism. Confronted with the knowledge that had been revealed to me, he became confused and admitted his fraud. With the deceiver out of the way and the truth known, the missionary stayed and completed an honorable mission.

Gus German is only 17 years old, but he cannot remember a time when he wasn’t visiting Church members with his father. In Delaware, members are spread out in different directions and in many cases they’re miles away from one another. With that in mind, members try to check up on each other. Of course, Gus didn’t become a home teacher until age 12, when he received the Aaronic Priesthood and was assigned by his bishop to be his father’s companion. But he’d already learned a lot about caring for people and about preparing and presenting meaningful lessons, so he stepped right into his home teaching role.
“Scripture stories were my staple home teaching lessons,” says Gus, a priest who grew up in the Wilmington (Delaware) West Ward. “I’d studied them in story books from the time I was five, so I knew those stories cold. Some people wonder who Nebuchadnezzar is. I know who he is.”
Over the years, Gus and his father regularly visited Sister Joyce Miller, at the time a less-active member of the Church who was battling cancer.
“The thing I remember most about Gus as a young boy was that whenever I asked him to say a prayer, he would stand up and do it,” Sister Miller says. “A lot of young boys and girls roll their eyes when you ask them to do something like praying. Not Gus.”
Now the young man who stopped by was a deacon with a priesthood responsibility. “I wasn’t active when they first started visiting me,” Sister Miller continues, “but their visits meant everything. I wanted to come back to church, but I was smoking and didn’t want to go because I was afraid people would smell the smoke on me.”
“All I knew is we always went to Sister Miller’s house and had fun when we home-taught her. I didn’t think any different of her when I found out she smoked because we were already really good friends,” says Gus. “I was pretty impressed and proud of her when she did stop smoking because I have heard how tough it is to quit.”
When she did stop smoking, Sister Miller began going to church again. “I was so glad because I liked seeing her. I would be able to see a smile on her face and be able to tell she really liked being at church,” Gus adds.
When Gus turned 16 and got his driver’s license, he was able to see that smile more and more. As her condition worsened, Sister Miller was unable to drive. Gus happily volunteered to pick her up and take her to church. “Sometimes she couldn’t stay past the sacrament in sacrament meeting so I would take her home.” Now, other ward members pick up Sister Miller when she’s able to go to church. And when she wasn’t, guess who went to her house to take her the sacrament.
“Sometimes I went with my dad, and sometimes I went with the Young Men president or one of the guys from my quorum,” explains Gus. “It’s something I did that helped her out. I liked doing it.”
Something else he did to help her out: Gus and his dad took Sister Miller to receive her patriarchal blessing.
“When we went for my blessing, Jack (Gus’s dad) took us in his car, the hot rod (a Chevy Nova). We laughed all the way down there. Gus was in the backseat laughing, and my face hurt from laughing,” Sister Miller remembers. “When I had my blessing, Jack and Gus were as quiet as church mice. After all that laughing we did on our way down, it was pretty quiet on the trip back. That is very memorable. We always have a good time, the three of us.”
Last September, Gus left Delaware to attend BYU. He saw Sister Miller at Christmas when he went home, and he still stays in touch, even though she’s living at one end of the country and he’s 3,000 miles away. She misses his visits, but is happy Gus is going to college. In Gus’s place as Jack German’s home-teaching companion is Lance, Gus’s 12-year-old brother.
As for Gus, some things never change. No sooner had he settled in his new ward in Provo than he was called to be a home teacher.

I was visiting a friend on the west side a few weeks ago. We had plans to swim with dolphins, as we both loved water photography. I had visions in my mind of the bright sun and crystal clear blue water with hundreds of dolphins swimming around me. I was imagining the perfect shot of a dolphin spinning out of the water and a baby dolphin close behind with the sun raging in the right of the picture, and a perfect rainbow to top it off. I was stoked. I woke up early, traveled out there for this perfect moment, looked for the dolphin boats as they were an indication of where we needed to be. But there were none, and it was overcast and raining.

My friend Alika, in his humble pigeon accent, said, “Braddah Marc, why are you bummed? If you only look for the perfect moments in life, you have lost your passion for the ocean. Have faith. Mother Nature always provides, even in bad conditions.”

He was right. We got in the water and, even though I didn't see what I wanted, we were still blessed with beautiful water, fish, honu and a shark. It was a great day. As we were leaving and dropping my friend home, he said, “Marc, thank you for adding value to my life.”

This statement has had a profound impact on me; it was so deep. How is it that I added value to his life? I was the negative one and he was the one who I felt added so much value to my life with what he had been teaching me, with his example of faith and a positive attitude.

Valian Fowler, a priest from the Rio Grande Ward, sums up his experiences from the encampment in these words: “I honestly can’t think of a campout when I felt the Spirit stronger. My father is a nonmember, and he came on the encampment with us. It was a great bonding time for us. He was in charge of the service project and spent most of his days at the encampment painting fences and cutting down trees and putting them in the gullies to help prevent erosion. We did many challenging and fun activities, but I can’t think of a time when all of us were smiling bigger and felt the Spirit stronger than when we were doing the service project. It was very challenging. We were all covered in sweat and rain, but I knew that we were doing the right thing. I could feel it in my heart. I finally know what they meant when they said ‘there is no greater happiness than when you’re serving others.’ I loved it.”

Years ago, my wife, Ruth; our daughter, Ashley; and I joined other tourists on a kayaking excursion in the state of Hawaii in the United States. A kayak is a low-to-the-water, canoe-like boat in which the rower sits facing forward and uses a double-bladed paddle to pull front to back on one side and then on the other. The plan was to row to two small islands off the coast of Oahu and back again. I was confident because, as a young man, I had paddled kayaks across mountain lakes. Hubris never bodes well, does it?

Our guide gave us instructions and showed us the ocean kayaks we would use. They differed from the ones I had previously paddled. I was supposed to sit on top of the kayak, instead of down inside it. When I got onto the kayak, my center of gravity was higher than I was accustomed to, and I was less stable in the water.

As we started out, I rowed faster than Ruth and Ashley. After a while, I was far ahead of them. Though proud of my heroic pace, I stopped paddling and waited for them to catch up. A large wave—about 13 centimeters—hit the side of my kayak and flipped me over into the water. By the time I had turned the kayak upright and struggled to get back on top, Ruth and Ashley had passed me by, but I was too winded to resume paddling. Before I could catch my breath, another wave, this one truly enormous—at least 20 centimeters—hit my kayak and flipped me over again. By the time I managed to right the kayak, I was so out of breath I feared I would not be able to climb on top.

Seeing my situation, the guide rowed over and steadied my kayak, making it easier for me to climb on top. When he saw that I was still too breathless to row on my own, he hitched a towrope to my kayak and began paddling, pulling me along with him. Soon I caught my breath and began paddling adequately on my own. He let go of the rope, and I reached the first island without further assistance. Upon arrival, I flopped down on the sand, exhausted.

After the group had rested, the guide quietly said to me, “Mr. Renlund, if you just keep paddling, maintaining your momentum, I think you’re going to be fine.” I followed his advice as we paddled to the second island and then back to our starting point. Twice the guide rowed by and told me I was doing great. Even larger waves hit my kayak from the side, but I was not flipped over.

By consistently paddling the kayak, I maintained momentum and forward progress, mitigating the effect of waves hitting me from the side. The same principle applies in our spiritual lives. We become vulnerable when we slow down and especially when we stop. If we maintain spiritual momentum by continually “rowing” toward the Savior, we are safer and more secure because our eternal life depends on our faith in Him.

Consider how the expedition guide helped me after I flipped over in the kayak. He did not shout from afar an unhelpful question such as, “Mr. Renlund, what are you doing in the water?” He did not paddle up and chide me, saying, “Mr. Renlund, you would not be in this situation if you were more physically fit.” He did not start towing my kayak while I was just trying to get on top of it. And he did not correct me in front of the group. Instead, he gave me the help I needed at the time I needed it. He gave me advice when I was receptive. And he went out of his way to encourage me.

What produces light? A candle, a flashlight, a lightbulb, the stars. What is the greatest source of light for us? No, it isn’t the sun. It is Jesus Christ. He said, “I am the light of the world: he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life” (John 8:12).
This light “is given to every man, that he may know good from evil” (Moro. 7:16). Each of us has the Light of Christ to help us choose the right.
Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles reminds us how we can have spiritual light: “When I was a boy, I used to ride my bicycle home from basketball practice at night. I would connect a small pear-shaped generator to my bicycle tire. Then as I pedaled, the tire would turn a tiny rotor, which produced … a single, welcome beam of light. … I learned quickly that if I stopped pedaling my bicycle, the light would go out. I also learned that when I was ‘anxiously engaged’ in pedaling, the light would become brighter and the darkness in front of me would be [forced away].”
Elder Hales explains that “spiritual light comes from daily spiritual pedaling. It comes from praying, studying the scriptures, fasting, and serving—from living the gospel and obeying the commandments” (“Out of Darkness into His Marvelous Light,” Liahona, July 2002, 78).
When we live the gospel and keep the commandments, we can have the Light of Christ with us always.
Trace the picture on page 6 onto plain white paper, and color the traced picture. Brush your picture very lightly with salad oil, and blot it with a towel. Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf of Presidency of the Seventy said that when he was growing up, his “chapel had a stained-glass window of Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove. Whenever the sun shone on it, I felt that the story it illustrated and what I had learned in Primary about the First Vision were true” (Liahona, Apr. 1999, F3). Place your picture in a window to remind you of the light the Savior provides in your life.

Robert Minnick, a deacon from the Jordan Fourth Ward, Salt Lake Jordan Stake, has found a unique way to help others. He cares for, loves, and trains a puppy for 12 months, without pay, then gives the dog back after the end of the year never to see it again. The dogs are bred to be guide dogs for the blind, and Robert and his family have been chosen by the Guide Dogs for the Blind Kennel in San Rafael, California, to perform this service.
It isn’t easy to give up a dog you’ve become attached to, but Robert realizes there are people out there who need the dogs desperately. He has found a way to be involved in a worthwhile service project 24-hours a day.

I would like to share with you what I believe was a defining moment in one of my children's life. One evening I was in my room reading. My then 15 years, 11months and two week old daughter came and sat down at the end of my bed. She started the conversations this way. "Dad, John (his real name isn't John but for purposes of this address, we will call him John) has asked me to the homecoming dance." Now you have to understand that John was the quarterback of her high school football team and a star football player; someone who was popular at school. It was an invitation I am sure that she very much wanted to accept. What high school girl wouldn't be flattered by such an invitation? She continued: "I know that I am not 16 years old but would it be alright if I went to the dance with John?" You see she had asked me, I suppose, hoping that if I said it was alright, then it was my decision, and all would be square with her and the Lord. I remember looking at my daughter and saying something to this effect: "Holly, you know what counsel the prophets of the Lord have given, you are almost 16 years old and old enough to decide, so you decide and I will be alright with your decision." I will always remember her response: "That's not fair!" Well, my then 15 years 11 months and 2 week old daughter had to decide. Would she apply her heart to her understanding? Some might rightfully argue that it was only two weeks before she turned 16 and there would be no harm in going to the dance. And yet, that really, in my mind, is not the issue. The issue in my mind is are we really willing to submit as Elder Holland has taught our will to the will of the Lord, in advance, unconditionally, no matter the consequences? Well, my then 15 years, 11 months and two week old daughter chose to follow the counsel of the prophets and declined John's invitation to go to the dance. She is now 33 years old, married to a wonderful man with five children of her own. I believe that this moment in her life helped to drive what she knew intellectually deep within her heart. I know she has had other experiences in life where she has chosen to follow the Lord's teachings and that such experiences have helped her learn how to apply her heart to her understanding. Do you think that she knows how to teach her children how to apply their hearts to their understanding?

When I was a junior in high school, I had a seminary teacher who changed the course of my life. He was able to look past my fashionably long hair and mildly rebellious attitude and somehow instill in me a desire to start reading the scriptures. Because of his influence, my life literally changed as I became converted and committed to the gospel of Jesus Christ. I was invited to participate on the seminary council the following year and, because I admired him so much, was looking forward to working closely with him.
Near the end of the summer, but before school began, the new seminary council gathered for our first meeting of the year. This teacher was fanatic about starting class on time and would often good naturedly embarrass any latecomers. When the entire council arrived on time and he did not, we could hardly wait to let him have it. After about a half an hour, there was still no sign of him. I called the seminary principal to see if we had misunderstood the date. The principal apologized for our inconvenience and then told us that this teacher would not be teaching again. I learned later that during the summer, he had been unfaithful to his wife and excommunicated from the Church.
You can imagine that this was very disturbing to me. I could not understand how this good man could have done such a thing.

Did you like that Friend magazine I gave you?
Yeah. My dad liked it too, but he just lost his job, so we don’t have money for things like magazines …
Dad, I know we don’t have a lot of money this year because we had to move, but can we get Audrey a Friend subscription for Christmas? You could take it out of whatever you were going to get me.
In fact, I really don’t need much. Could we just give Audrey’s family most of what you would have spent on me? Without letting them know who it was?
I guess so, if you’re sure that’s what you want.
I was really hoping for that cool new scooter. She’s Mandy’s friend, not mine. In fact, she acts like I don’t exist.
But Mandy looked really happy when she told Dad what she wanted to do.
Dad, I heard what Mandy was saying. Would you do the same thing with my Christmas presents? But don’t tell Mandy. I mean, I don’t want her to think I like her friends.
You know what I mean.
You’re never going to guess what those two kids of ours just did.
Uh oh! Do I want to hear this?
Oh, trust me. You do.