Gospel Story Finder

Following a Saturday of leadership training, the stake president took me to Sunday services held in a rented house. There were 240 people in attendance. Then the bishop introduced 10 new members baptized that week. The congregation was spread across two small rooms, with some members also sitting outside the building, watching the meeting through windows and doors. There were no complaints—only smiling faces and grateful hearts.

When Yukari was three years old, her preschool served milk with coffee in it. Because Yukari’s mother had taught her about the Word of Wisdom, Yukari would not drink the coffee milk. She would fill up her cup with water and drink that instead.
One day Yukari said to her mother, “I want to drink coffee milk like everyone else.” Her mother sat down with her and helped her understand that Heavenly Father loves her, that He doesn’t want her to drink coffee, and that it is a commandment. From that day on, Yukari was sure she never wanted to drink coffee. More than a year passed.
One day when Yukari’s teacher could not be there, another teacher came to the class. As usual, Yukari was drinking water. The teacher saw this and asked, “Why are you drinking water?” Yukari explained that she attended church and she had promised Heavenly Father she would not drink coffee. The teacher was impressed. From that time on, the preschool stopped serving coffee milk and served other drinks instead.

The young women of the Selsdon Ward, London Wandsworth Stake, helped many Bosnians survive last winter by organizing a project to put together packs for the refugees.
The girls asked ward members, friends, and even merchants to contribute items like toiletries, candles, matches, baby bottles, nappies, and nonperishable food. A humanitarian organization told the girls exactly what was needed.
The girls then spent two nights sorting and packing contributions and adding personalized notes. All together, 45 boxes were packed and delivered to the local ambulance station, which was responsible for having the items transported. The people at the station were impressed with the size of the contribution, and the young women couldn’t have been happier about it.

Although I acted as if I didn’t care, I really did want to win. After all, the opportunity to be the high school Homecoming queen only comes around once in a lifetime. And, it seemed to me, this was my one and only chance to be considered royalty.
When my name was announced as one of the three nominees, I was surprised. I wasn’t a cheerleader, and I wasn’t dating the quarterback. I’d created my own niche in school—doing activities that weren’t necessarily in the spotlight.
This would be a crowning accomplishment to have in my high school years, I thought. Royalty, huh? I could get used to that title.
The winner would be announced at halftime of the Saturday afternoon football game. The day before the game, I was sitting in my seminary class. People around me were predicting who would be crowned queen. Still wearing my facade of apathy, I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I’d survive even if I didn’t win. And remember, I told myself, it doesn’t matter if I’m royalty or not.
My heart pulsing heavily, I looked up at the teacher, hoping to divert my attention from the Homecoming chatter. Behind him on the bulletin board hung the same Mormonad poster that had been on my bedroom wall for years.
“It’s nice to be important, but it’s more important to be nice.”
My heart soared as I read again, but understood for the first time, how to look at life. Homecoming queen or not, I could concentrate on a more important thing—to be nice. If I did that, I would always be royalty in a more important, eternal sense.
Saturday came quickly, but halftime did not. The sun shone brightly on the brown October day, my 17th birthday. When the time approached, my dad escorted me to the field as the spectators watched us girls teeter out in our high heels. The announcer began, “We’d like to announce our Homecoming queen, …”
My mind wandered as I reminded myself of Friday’s realization. No matter how important or unimportant I might be, I could be royally nice to those with whom I came in contact. When I came back to reality, they were crowning the girl next to me as queen.
As I walked off the field, I smiled inside and out.
Although I’d missed my chance to be a high school queen, I hadn’t missed my opportunity to recognize my royal beginnings. We have a noble birthright, and that can’t be changed. I also realized that I should care whether I was royalty or not in a spiritual sense. Apathy has no place in our royal relationships with our Heavenly Father.
Unlike the Homecoming queen contest, it’s entirely up to us to accept the royal gifts and blessings our Father in Heaven offers to us. The Lord has crowned us all with eternal importance, and one way we can honor this noble birth is by treating others with the respect and consideration they deserve and letting that be more important to us than worldly honors.

“One, two, three, skip four, and five!” Diane chanted as she hopped and skipped down the hopscotch squares. Now that school was out, she could play outside every day with her friend Laura. Diane teetered on one foot, then giggled. As she regained her balance, she noticed a girl she had never seen before walking over from the house next door.
“My name’s Emma,” the girl said. “Can I play with you?”
“Sure!” Diane said. Laura grinned and nodded.
The three girls laughed and played all morning long. Emma was a lot of fun to be around! When she told Diane and Laura that she was visiting her grandparents for two weeks, the girls decided to play together every day.
But on Saturday, Emma told Diane and Laura that she wouldn’t be playing with them the next day.
“Why not?” Laura asked.
“I go to church every Sunday morning, then spend time with my family,” Emma explained. “I’m a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.”
Diane frowned. “Can’t you miss church just this once?” she asked. They didn’t have many days left to play together.
“I don’t want to miss church,” Emma said. “I love going. We have a fun meeting called Primary that’s just for kids. We sing and listen to stories about Jesus and the prophets.”
Diane and Laura looked at her doubtfully. It sure didn’t sound as fun as hopscotch.
“You could both come with me, if you wanted,” Emma said.
“Um, no thanks,” Diane said.
“Nah,” Laura said.
But on Monday, Diane asked Emma to tell them more about her church. She and Laura both wondered how it could possibly be more fun than playing on Sunday.
“Yesterday I heard stories from the Book of Mormon.” Her friends looked puzzled. “It’s a book like the Bible and has lots of scriptures and stories about Jesus,” Emma explained. “When I pray about the stories, I feel happy and I know that Heavenly Father is telling me they’re true.”
For two weeks the girls played together almost every day. It felt like they had always been friends. The days passed quickly, and then it was time for Emma to go home. She was sad to leave, and Diane and Laura were sad to see her go. They watched and waved as Emma drove away with her family.
“I didn’t really understand everything she was telling us about her church,” Laura said.
“Me neither,” Diane said. “But I felt good when she was talking about it.”
“Yeah,” Laura said.

I first met Kim Hye Gook in November 1989 while serving as a missionary in Suwon, South Korea, about thirty kilometers south of Seoul. She was referred to the sister missionaries by Brice Womack, an American soldier stationed in Songtan, some distance away. The missionaries in my zone visited the orphanage where Miss Kim worked. We were impressed with the patience, love, and care she gave each of the children.
At about the same time, we met Pak Hyang Gook while talking with people on the streets in Suwon. A short time later we began teaching her the missionary discussions.
Both of these investigators completed the discussions, developed strong testimonies, and decided to be baptized. The date was set for Sunday, 24 January 1990. We made all of the usual preparations for baptism and met with the meetinghouse custodian and bishop to make sure the details were all settled. Everything seemed to be in order.
The day finally came, and it was very cold, as Korean winter days tend to be. After Sunday School opening exercises, I thought to ask the custodian if hot water would be available from the taps. That’s when he told us the furnace had broken and we wouldn’t be able to perform the baptism.
We were shocked. Some of Miss Kim’s friends had come all the way from Songtan to attend the service. Also, three investigators from the Osan Branch (fifteen kilometers away) were to be baptized at the same service. The whole Osan Branch was planning to attend.
Sister Gu Jean Jaw (a sister missionary) and I tried to remedy the situation. We took apart the furnace and found a fuse that was burned out. We replaced it with an automotive fuse that seemed compatible, then put it all back together.
At first we were elated to find that it worked. But our excitement was to be short-lived. It soon became apparent that no water would flow from the furnace up to the baptismal font. The reason: the water in the pipes had frozen solid. We tried for three hours to thaw the pipes by pouring boiling water over them. It didn’t work. We also tried to find a welder, hoping to heat the pipes and thaw the ice inside. But no one who had a welder was willing to let us use it.
By now it was 2:00 P.M., time for the baptism to begin. The Osan branch president and members had arrived. Sister Gu Jean Jaw called every mogyoktang (bath house) in Suwon to see if we could perform the baptisms there, but none of them would accommodate us.
I talked to Miss Kim. She was disappointed. She said that she had prayed and knew that she was to be baptized. She had set a goal with the sister missionaries to be baptized on this day. She pulled out the Book of Mormon that the sisters had given her when she started the discussions and opened it to the picture of Alma baptizing a girl in the Waters of Mormon. She asked, "Is it possible for me to be baptized in a river or lake?" Voices blurted out that it was impossible, that everything outside was frozen over, that it was too cold.
The bishop called us into his office to decide what should be done. We agreed that the girls themselves should decide when and where they would be baptized. The bishop called them into his office. He said he knew where a lake was, but warned that it would take a long bus ride, followed by a twenty-minute walk, to get to a secluded cove where the baptism could take place.
The room was quiet for a long time. Then Miss Kim spoke. She repeated that she had accepted the gospel and had agreed to be baptized on this day. She believed that if she did her part, the Lord would do his. And if doing her part meant being baptized in an icy lake, then she was willing.
We began preparations for the lake baptism. Elders Forbes and Miner ran home to get blankets. The two investigators changed into baptismal clothes; my companion, Elder Parker, and I did the same. We held the baptismal service at the Church meetinghouse, then climbed on a bus for the ride to the lake. When we arrived, we saw a large group of people ice skating. We knew the ice had to be very thick.
The bishop had gone on ahead in his truck and was already on the other side of the lake. When we reached him, he was futilely trying to break a hole in the ice with a large rock. My companion and I hiked to a little house on the edge of the lake and knocked on the door. A middle-aged man appeared at the door, dressed in a purple hanbok, the traditional Korean dress. I explained in Korean that we needed to cut a hole in the ice. He hurried into the house and returned with an old axe head fastened onto a homemade stick handle. He didn’t even ask us to return it, just smiled and closed the door.
We returned to the lake and cut a small hole in the ice, then tested the depth with a stick. It was too shallow for a baptism. We cut many small holes, testing the depth of the water each time. Finally we found a place where the water was the right depth.
It took another hour to cut a trough big enough in which to perform the baptism. The homemade handle on the axe broke once, but we caught the head before it sunk. The ice was 30cm. Thick. Most of the chunks we cut off were just too big to lift out, so we slid them under the ice on either side of the merging hole.
Finally, Elder Parker baptized Sister Pak, and I baptized Sister Kim in that frozen lake. By now it was late. The ice skaters had all gone home. The sky was clear and the air bitter cold. Yet I remember thinking, as I slid out of the hole back onto the ice, that, amazingly, I didn’t feel cold. Sister Kim had the same experience.
We huddled together to have a closing prayer, after which we bundled in blankets and headed toward the bus stop. The baptized sisters went to the bishop’s house to change clothes, while the other elders and I went home. At 8:30 P.M. we all met at the bishop’s house for dinner. The bishop felt strongly that these two girls should be confirmed right there and then, so we complied.
During and after the confirmation prayers, the room was filled with a sweet feeling of peace. I can’t begin to describe it. I truly believe that for some reason it was important for those girls to be baptized and confirmed that cold, icy day. Their faith and courage typify the attitude of the humble members of the Church in South Korea.

Larry loved to jump and run races and ride his bike and climb trees. So when it came time for Primary, he had a hard time sitting still. Every time he sat down in his chair, he felt like standing right back up. He tapped his toes on the floor. He squirmed in his seat. He tugged on his lip.
Sister Valencia showed their class a picture of Jesus and told them some of the special names for Him. “We call Him our Exemplar,” she said. “It’s a big word, but it means someone who’s a good example. What are some ways Jesus was a good example?”
“He was nice to people who were mean to Him!” Chloe said.
“He chose the right!” Philippe said.
“He was a good friend,” Chad said.
“You’re all right,” Sister Valencia said. “Jesus loved His enemies, He always stood up for what’s right, and He was a wonderful friend. So if we want to be like Jesus—“
“—we should be a good friend!” Larry said.
Sister Valencia nodded. “Exactly. Jesus was a good example to everyone because He was a friend to everyone. He wants us to be friends to everyone too.”
At the end of the lesson, the class lined up at the door to walk into sharing time. When they got into the Primary room, another boy was already in the seat where Larry usually sat. Larry knew the boy’s name was Brennan and that he had something called autism. Larry wasn’t sure what that meant, but he knew Brennan had a hard time sitting still and shouted things out when they were supposed to be reverent and sometimes cried loudly. Brennan’s mom usually came in to sit with him. Larry didn’t know Brennan well yet.
Larry slumped down in the chair next to Brennan, feeling a little grumpy that he had to sit in a different seat. Then, when sharing time started, Larry felt his wiggles coming on. He kicked the chair in front of him. Clack! Then he heard another loud clack. Brennan had kicked the chair in front of him too!
Brennan’s mom softly asked Brennan to be quiet.
Larry bounced up and down on his chair. Brennan bounced too. Larry looked at Brennan and sighed loudly. Brennan sighed louder. Why was Brennan copying everything he was doing?
Larry made a mean face at Brennan and leaned away. Brennan copied him, twisting his mouth into an ugly frown. Larry looked at him in surprise. Is that what Larry’s face looked like? He didn’t like seeing such a mean face glaring at him like that. He didn’t like it at all!
Suddenly Larry remembered what Sister Valencia had said about Jesus being an example and a friend. Jesus wouldn’t make a mean face at Brennan, Larry thought. Jesus would help Brennan. Larry decided to give it a try.
He stopped kicking the chair—and Brennan stopped kicking too. He folded his arms—and Brennan folded his arms too. He turned his head and faced the teacher—and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Brennan face the front too. Larry grinned.
During singing time Larry sang with his best voice and heard Brennan singing loud too. Brennan’s mom smiled at Larry with a smile that lit up her whole face. Larry felt warm inside. He could be like Jesus!—an example and a friend.

My father had an idea that his boys ought to learn to work, and so he bought a five-acre farm which eventually grew to include more than 30 acres. We lived there in the summer and returned to the city when school started.
We had a large orchard, and the trees had to be pruned each spring. We learned a great truth—that you could pretty well determine the kind of fruit you would pick in September by the way you pruned in February. Further, we learned that new, young wood produces the best fruit. That has many applications in life.

Allow me to relate a personal experience. About 20 years ago, I was assigned to be the ministering brother to a man who had just moved into our ward. I soon learned that he was in a seemingly hopeless situation. He had just been rebaptized after his membership had been removed. He was going through a painful divorce. He was also facing financial hardship and a challenging work situation.
My companion and I decided to help him envision his bright future and see his true potential as a son of God. We encouraged him to begin with the end in mind and picture himself at the altar of the temple surrounded by his beautiful eternal family, all dressed in white. We testified to him that this would happen if he remained faithful.
We visited him for seven straight years, at least once every month. We often cried together. We rejoiced in each baby step he was taking. Despite the many ups and downs along the way, we got to love this man as a dear friend.
After seven years, he called me one day and told me he had received his first temple recommend in 20 years. I accompanied him to the Frankfurt Germany Temple, where we did work for his deceased family. It was a marvelous day!
From that time on, greater blessings began to flow into his life. A wonderful sister was baptized in our ward. She appeared to be the perfect match. They got married and had two beautiful children. They were later sealed together in the temple.
Some time ago, Valérie and I attended a session in the Paris France Temple. As we entered the temple, I saw my friend standing at the desk in the lobby. It was he who asked me to show my temple recommend.
We looked at each other. It was a quiet moment, filled with peaceful joy and infinite gratitude. It was like I heard him say, “Thank you for not giving up on me and believing in my eternal potential.”

This story happened in the USA.
Olivia hurried out of her classroom before school was over. She tried not to look anyone in the eyes.
Today was Olivia’s first day of therapy. Her mom explained that she would be meeting with a doctor who could help her with her worries. Olivia felt worried a lot. Sometimes she felt so worried that it was hard to sleep or have fun with her friends.
Olivia got in the car with Mom and slouched in her seat.
“Are you OK?” Mom asked.
Olivia didn’t answer for a moment. “Why do I have to go to the doctor?”
Mom started driving. “Heavenly Father gives us doctors to help us. Just like how He gives us other things to help us, like friends and the scriptures. Do you remember the scripture chain we made?”
Olivia nodded. Mom had helped her find scripture verses that helped with her worries. At each verse, Mom wrote where to find the next one. When Olivia was worried at night, she would say a prayer and find one of the verses in the scriptures. Then she’d read the other verses in the chain until she could sleep.
When Olivia and Mom walked into the doctor’s office, Dr. Posy introduced herself. She asked Olivia about her feelings. Olivia told her a little bit about her worries.
“A lot of people have something called anxiety,” Dr. Posy said. “They get worried a lot like you do. But you can do some things to help you feel less worried. Can you try one of them with me?”
Olivia looked at her shoes and nodded.
Dr. Posy handed Olivia a little box. “This is a worry box. It keeps our worries safe, so we don’t have to think about them.”
Olivia turned the box over in her hands. It didn’t look like anything special.
“Next time you feel afraid, write your worry on a piece of paper and put it in the box,” Dr. Posy said. “Then pick a time to open the box every day for worry time. If you worry about anything before worry time, say, ‘I don’t need to think about this right now.’”
“OK,” Olivia said. Dr. Posy helped her write her biggest worries, and Olivia tucked them into the box.
Later that day, one of Olivia’s worries popped into her head. It’s in the worry box, she told herself. I can worry about that later. She tried to stop thinking about it. She played with her brother instead.
When it was time for bed, Olivia felt nervous. Nighttime was when her worries got the worst. She put her worry box and her scriptures by her bed and called for Mom.
“What if it doesn’t work?” she asked.
Mom gave her a hug. “Then we keep trying. Heavenly Father will help you find other ways that help.”
Olivia nodded. “Maybe I should write that down for the worry box too.”
“Great idea,” Mom said. She said a prayer with Olivia. That helped Olivia feel a little better.
A little while after Mom turned off the lights, a worry popped into Olivia’s head. She turned on her lamp. She wrote down the worry and put it in the box for later. She said another prayer to ask Heavenly Father to comfort her.
Then she opened her scriptures and looked for a highlighted verse from her scripture chain. The first one she found was Isaiah 41:10. It said, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee.”
Next to the verse, Mom had written “Doctrine and Covenants 6:36.” Olivia searched for that scripture and read it out loud. “Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.”
Olivia felt peaceful. She knew she would probably think of more worries. But Heavenly Father had given her lots of things to help her feel better. He had answered her prayers. And that helped a lot!
Turn the page to make a scripture chain, like Olivia did!
Illustrations by Jennifer Naalchigar

This widespread respect for Brother Vidal became apparent to missionaries laboring in Cajamarca, Peru, in late 1970. Hoping to overcome the opposition and religious superstition that greeted them, the missionaries arranged to use a municipal building to present a week-long exposition featuring displays and explanations of the Book of Mormon and its ties to ancient inhabitants of America.

The day before the much-publicized exposition was to open, city officials told the missionaries that a local religious leader had instructed them not to allow them to proceed. Frustrated and discouraged, the missionaries chanced to meet the head of the local bank, with whom they had earlier visited about the Church. Learning of their predicament, he telephoned Brother Vidal in Lima.

“Señor Vidal, I know you are a Mormon,” he said. “I have great respect for you. Some of your missionaries are in a difficult situation. I am willing to risk my influence in this community to help them if you tell me that theirs is a good cause.”

Brother Vidal urged the bank executive to help the missionaries. As a result, the exposition was a success.

Often, the activation energy needed for blessings requires more than just looking or asking; ongoing, repeated, faith-filled actions are required. In the middle of the 19th century, Brigham Young directed a group of Latter-day Saints to explore and settle Arizona, an arid region in North America. After reaching Arizona, the group ran out of water and feared they would perish. They pled with God for help. Soon rain and snow fell, allowing them to fill their barrels with water and provide for their livestock. Grateful and refreshed, they returned to Salt Lake City rejoicing in the goodness of God. Upon their return, they reported the details of their expedition to Brigham Young and pronounced their conclusion that Arizona was uninhabitable.

After listening to the report, Brigham Young asked a man in the room what he thought about the expedition and the miracle. That man, Daniel W. Jones, tersely replied, “I would have filled up, went on, and prayed again.” Brother Brigham put his hand on Brother Jones and said, “This is the man that shall take charge of the next trip to Arizona.”

As the Christmas season drew near, Nathan anxiously shared some news with his family at dinner one evening.
“Gard told me today that he has not had a Christmas tree since he was a boy.”
With that announcement, the family soon outlined a plan of action—Gard would have a Christmas tree!
On Saturday, Nathan’s family drove to the nearby forest for their traditional Christmas-tree hunt. In the past their goal had been to search until they found a perfect blue spruce for their home, but this year everyone felt more excitement than ever before at finding the right tree for Gard. A perfect little spruce caught Nathan’s eye, and everyone approved. They took the tree home to prepare for Gard’s Christmas surprise.
On Monday for family home evening, Mom helped Nathan, Angie, and Eric make ornaments out of felt, glitter, ribbon, buttons, and beads. Then they decorated the tree and loaded it into the back of their truck.
Nathan had never felt such excitement as they huddled together around the tree before knocking on Gard’s door. As soon as they heard the click of the latch, everyone started singing, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.”
Gard’s eyes lit up with excitement, followed by a few tears of joy as he invited them in. He danced from one foot to the other as he helped Nathan and Dad place the tree in front of his window that faced the street. Gard was so excited about his Christmas tree that he left it standing and decorated until March! Nathan and his family felt a warm peace in their hearts as they observed the soft glow of Gard’s tree lights each evening throughout the winter.

Lorne C. Campbell, a priest in the Como Ward, Southern River Stake, Western Australia, has a major past, present, and future in theatre. He began dance, drama, and music lessons when he was just five. By 14 he was composing his own songs, choreographing production numbers, and teaching. At 16 he wrote and produced a full length musical play, and now, at 18, Lorne is on a Rotary Exchange Scholarship to Belgium, where he attends the multilingual Athenee Royale.
All this, and Lorne never missed a beat in Primary, priesthood, or Young Men. He plans on furthering his studies at the University of Western Australia and on serving a mission. It looks like Lorne is making all the world his stage.

On July 27, 1943, Flora received a phone call from her husband. He was in Salt Lake City, Utah, preparing to return from a business trip with their son Reed. She was at their home near Washington, D.C., about 2,000 miles (3,200 km) away. After a sleepless night full of prayer and tears, he telephoned to let her know that the previous day he had been called to serve as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles.
The news did not surprise Flora. She “had had a strong impression that something of magnitude would happen on [her husband’s] trip.”10 She expressed confidence in Ezra, and her words had a calming effect on him. He later recalled: “It was reassuring to talk to her. She has always shown more faith in me than I have myself.”11

Joseph would often speak outside so that more people could hear him. On one such day in Nauvoo, a heavy wind and storm came up in the middle of his preaching.
This dust is so thick; I can’t see anything.
Let’s go home before it gets worse.
Joseph called out to those who were leaving.
Let everyone pray to the Almighty God that the winds and the rain might cease, and it shall be so.
O Father, bless that the wind and the rain will cease.
After several minutes, the storm divided. The bushes and trees on either side of the group were waving in the wind, but there was calm where Joseph spoke.
Now, brothers and sisters, I would like to speak to you about some important truths.
An hour later the Prophet concluded, and the storm returned.
Return quickly to your homes and think about what I have said.
Hurry, children.

An example of such service was the missionary experience of Juliusz and Dorothy Fussek, who were called to fill a two-year mission in Poland. Brother Fussek was born in Poland. He spoke the language. He loved the people. Sister Fussek was English and knew little of Poland and its people.

Trusting in the Lord, they embarked on their assignment. The living conditions were primitive, the work lonely, their task immense. A mission had not at that time been established in Poland. The assignment given the Fusseks was to prepare the way that a mission could be established, that other missionaries be called to serve, people taught, converts baptized, branches established, and chapels erected.

Did Elder and Sister Fussek despair because of the enormity of their assignment? Not for a moment. They knew their calling was from God, they prayed for His divine help, and they devoted themselves wholeheartedly to their work. They remained in Poland not two years, but five years. All of the foregoing objectives were realized.

Elders Russell M. Nelson, Hans B. Ringger, and I, accompanied by Elder Fussek, met with Minister Adam Wopatka of the Polish government and we heard him say, “Your church is welcome here. You may build your buildings, you may send your missionaries. You are welcome in Poland. This man,” pointing to Juliusz Fussek, “has served your church well. You can be grateful for his example and his work.”

Like the Fusseks, let us do what we should do in the work of the Lord. Then we can, with Juliusz and Dorothy Fussek, echo the psalm: “My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth. … He that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep” (Ps. 121:2–4).

I also think of my mother and father and how they faced the troubles of their day. They both entered BYU in the 1930s during the Great Depression. They met at BYU, married in 1936, and had their first child early in 1938 while they were still in school. They struggled to pay tuition and to earn enough money for food and rent. My father majored in agronomy, and as he approached graduation in 1938, the unemployment rate was 15 percent, about twice what it is today. He wondered if he would be able to find a job and support his wife and child. One of his professors encouraged him to take the civil service exam, and he did well enough on the exam that he was offered a job with the Soil Conservation Service within the Department of Agriculture. He was assigned to do soil surveys in New England, North Dakota—a small town in the southwestern part of the state. It was not where he or his wife would have chosen to go, but it was a job, and they went.

When they arrived, they discovered that there were no other members of the Church in the town. Dad and Mother held Sunday School in our home, and occasionally the full-time missionaries, who served in Dickinson, 30 miles to the north, would visit us. Money was tight, and some vital commodities were rationed during World War II, including gasoline, meat, sugar, and butter. These items were in short supply, and rationing was the only way to make sure everyone got their fair share. Even if you had money to buy more, you were only allowed to buy small amounts of the rationed items.

When I was six we moved to Dickinson, North Dakota, and after 14 years of marriage, my parents were able to buy a home. The economic situation improved somewhat after World War II; we had basic necessities, but with six children it was a challenge for my parents to meet their expenses. My mother taught us Primary at home, and we held church in our living room with our family, the two full-time missionaries, and Frank Whitney, the only other Church member in the town at the time. Gradually the Church grew—several families moved in, and a few were baptized. We rented a hall in the community center to hold church services. My Dad worked with the local Lions Club and Methodist Church to start a Scout program.

When I was 13 my dad was transferred to Bismarck, North Dakota, a beautiful little town on the Missouri River. My parents bought a three-bedroom rambler with an unfinished basement and no garage, and our family had one car, which we all shared. Mother took a job as a medical stenographer. I was happy that there was a small branch of the Church in Bismarck with several other teenagers. Our branch met in the basement of a local hotel, and as we set up for church on Sunday mornings, we usually had to clear away a few beer cans that had been left from the night before. As the branch grew, we were able to rent a small church from the Seventh-day Adventists.

At that time, Church policy was that local units had to earn a certain percentage of the cost before they could build a chapel. I remember many branch bake sales being held so we could earn money and one day have our own chapel. In addition, members were encouraged to contribute what they could to the building fund, but the branch was small and most members could not afford to give much. Accumulation of funds was slow, and I wondered if we would ever be able to build our own chapel. Finally, when I reached age 18—after years of dreaming, planning, and working—we had earned enough to pay our share of the cost to build a small chapel.

After I left North Dakota, the Church continued to grow. The Bismarck Stake was organized in the 1980s, and then in 1998 a small temple was constructed. For those of us who grew up in North Dakota and lived through the early struggles, the construction of a temple in Bismarck was a miracle that we had never dreamed could happen. Prior to that time the closest temple was in Idaho Falls, Idaho, 750 miles away.

My parents married and graduated during a challenging time—the Great Depression. They were sent to a cold and unknown place far from their families and their beloved Utah. Mother and Dad experienced North Dakota blizzards, rationing during the war, and the birth of a handicapped son. They went forward with faith and did the best they could during difficult times. As I look back on my life, I cherish the experiences I had in North Dakota. It is not where my parents would have chosen to raise us, but I thank God for sending them there. We associated with many good people of different faiths who enriched our lives, and we learned much from facing economic and spiritual challenges. I thank my parents for their faith and courage through much adversity. They taught us well and were true to their ideals.

This was graphically brought to my mind through an experience of my 16-year-old niece. Teriann was going through a stage. She hated Sunday School. She said her teacher was deadly dull. She didn’t like seminary. Sacrament meeting was boring, and she couldn’t stand family home evening because she had two brothers who were several years younger and had interests different than hers.
Teriann became really obnoxious. She was totally disruptive on Monday nights and it just kept getting worse. Teriann said, “Why can’t I just stop going to Church things? I’m not getting anything out of them anyway.”
After considerable discussion, her parents finally agreed that Teriann could stay home from her meetings for a certain trial period. Her father and mother felt that perhaps the release of the pressure of having to go would give her a chance to reflect on the real blessings of the gospel. One Sunday came and went, the most peaceful Sunday they had had for weeks. Monday night Teriann studied while the family met.
By Tuesday, however, while her father was praying about this problem, he had a distinct witness of the Spirit. Although he didn’t know what the solution should be, he knew that what he was doing was not the answer. Teriann’s father discussed these deep-seated feelings with his wife, who respected them. They decided to tell Teriann.
Teriann felt betrayed and wronged. She said, “You made an agreement and already you’re changing your mind—it hasn’t even been a week yet. How can you do this to me?”
What do you think her parents could say to her? A very wise mother said, “Teriann, the Lord must love you very much in order to not let us go even one week in the wrong direction.” This impressed her. She became quiet and her defensiveness was gone.
Then her dad said, “I don’t know the direction we should go. I only know that what we are doing is wrong. If we will fast and pray about this, then we will know what to do.” Teriann joined her parents in a special fast.
They were then able to discuss the situation realistically, and her parents made an agreement that Teriann could leave sacrament meeting after the sacrament had been passed, if the speaker was boring. Teriann only left sacrament meeting once after that. She found out she really didn’t hate seminary, and a change in the format of family home evening took care of Monday evenings.
This experience helped Teriann appreciate the real blessing of the gospel, and to know that the Lord loved her as an individual. A knowledge of God’s love for us is a blessing far above the benefits of the world’s royalty. Know that the Lord loves you too, very much.

After nursing school, I came to work in the intensive care unit at a children’s hospital. I had a desire to learn and gain experience, to prove myself. I did not imagine, however, that it would be so difficult—both physically and emotionally. I could not understand why the world is so evil that even parents can cause irreparable harm to their own children. Nor did I understand why God allows children to die. After one year of work in the hospital, my soul was exhausted.
Then I learned that members of my family were having discussions with Latter-day Saint missionaries. I worked long shifts and could not be at home when those discussions took place. Soon my sister and mom were baptized. And I felt like I was left alone with questions and unresolved problems. Despite my family trying to arrange a meeting for me with the missionaries, I did not want to see them. But once when Sisters Johnson and Marchuk visited, I joined their conversation. The next time, they taught me a spiritual lesson, and I was able to find answers to questions I had struggled with for a long time. Soon I was baptized and confirmed.
Since I became a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I have felt sustained by my faith in Jesus Christ. I have experienced again and again the power of prayer and feel that I have come from darkness to light. Six years in the Church have given me a conviction that Jesus Christ is my Savior. And because of Jesus Christ, I now have an opportunity to become closer to my Heavenly Father.