Gospel Story Finder

I am uncertain at what stage in my spiritual development I finally decided to stop studying on Sunday. I do remember, following my mission and attending BYU (Provo) as a married student, finally unmasking my studying for religion class as a gratuitous rationalization. But I can clearly recall my anxiety when I left for graduate school at The University of Michigan, knowing that I would be "competing" against other students who were generally brighter than me and that I would be limiting myself to only six days of studying and working in the laboratory compared against their seven. I feared that my commitment to attend church regularly, magnify my calling as Elders Quorum president, and care for the needs of our growing young family might cause me to fail in my graduate program.

My faith need not have faltered: the Lord is good and His promises are sure: "Hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? There is no searching of his understanding. He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; they shall walk, and not faint." (Isaiah 40: 28-31). May your diligent efforts to keep this great commandment of keeping the Sabbath Day holy unto the Lord be answered with similar blessings upon your heads.

The fictional character Mary Poppins is a typical English nanny—who happens to be magical. She blows in on the east wind to help the troubled Banks family of Number 17, Cherry Tree Lane, in Edwardian London. She is given charge of the children, Jane and Michael. In a firm but kind manner, she begins to teach them valuable lessons with an enchanting touch.
Jane and Michael make considerable progress, but Mary decides that it is time for her to move on. In the stage production, Mary’s chimney sweep friend, Bert, tries to dissuade her from leaving. He argues, “But they’re good kids, Mary.”
Mary replies, “Would I be bothering with them if they weren’t? But I can’t help them if they won’t let me, and there’s no one so hard to teach as the child who knows everything.”
Bert asks, “So?”
Mary answers, “So they’ve got to do the next bit on their own.”

It started with a phone call. Elmer wanted to ask Geraldine for a date to the prom, but she hadn’t been his first choice. So when Geraldine answered the phone, Elmer blurted out, “I couldn’t get anyone else to go with me; do you want to go?” This approach did nothing to make Geraldine feel special, so she answered, “Let me see. I’ll have to check the television schedule first.” Arriving at the dance, Elmer let the door swing shut in Geraldine’s face. She, in turn, left Elmer in an awkward situation when she huddled to talk with her girl friends and left him standing alone.
The situation may be a little farfetched, but the antics of Elmer and Geraldine doing all the wrong things on a date started a discussion on dating manners at a series of workshops held by the Ammon Stake in Idaho Falls, Idaho. The skit was a way of introducing a discussion on the subject, and the majority of the audience agreed that they are impressed by a polite girl or guy as a dating partner.

The curtain opens and the pageant begins: Entering stage left is David Paulsen, who plays Joseph at 14. He speaks: “Why all this confusion? Which church is right?” He seeks for the answer from his parents and from preachers of all faiths. Then he goes to the Sacred Grove to pray.
“I think the most spiritual part in the whole pageant to me is when I’m in the grove,” David said. “I just get tingles up and down my spine because I know what I’m saying is true. It’s one of the neatest experiences I’ve ever had. It’s helped me make up my mind to want to go on a mission and then get married in the temple.”

Blessed to be the mother of five children, eight grandchildren and 3 great-grandchildren, 77-year-old Carol Dunkley once enjoyed a life of physically active service and was a keen gardener. Nowadays, Carol, a member of the Townsville First Branch, which is part of the Townsville District in North Queensland, Australia, does what she can to be of service to the Lord because her body has developed some restrictions.
She remembers well the day in 2010 when a neurologist announced her ailment: “You have Parkinson’s.” Having had a hip replacement three years prior, Carol had suspected something was amiss with her hip because she couldn’t walk properly and went to her GP, who referred her to a specialist—so this diagnosis came as a shock.
The disease doesn’t yet have a cure. Initially, Carol had trouble walking; unfortunately, it progressed to instability and mobility uncertainty.
“Thankfully there are medications and surgical procedures that greatly help,” said Carol. She began a course of medications and felt much better. But frustrations became part of her life as she had to rely on others to do for her what she could no longer do herself—like gardening.
“I know that it is not curable. No surgery can fix it. One of the greatest lessons I have learnt is to take each day as it comes. If it is a good day, my prayer of thanks is given. If it has been a bad day – well tomorrow should be better. If things get too bad, I read. It takes me away from my problems and into another world; I know my faith is a great advantage. I am not alone. His help and comfort are always there. There is a lot to be thankful for, even though at times I have to look a bit harder for the blessings,” said Carol.
With physical service at a limit, Carol looked for a way she might still serve the Lord in a meaningful way—she found indexing—and for the past nine years has experienced great joy in helping to gather Israel in this important effort.
Carol’s journey to family history service has been a long time coming. Her father passed away when she was seven, and unfortunately the connection between her mother and her paternal family ceased because of a rift in the family. She does wish she had taken the time to gather information from her living relatives about their experiences and connections when they were still alive.
Married life in England was a struggle and she and her husband made the decision to immigrate to Australia in 1966 as ‘10-pound pommies’—the amount paid to each of them to travel by ship to relocate in Australia. Once settled in their new land, they looked for religion. Almost unbelievably, missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints knocked on their door and were eagerly invited in. As gospel principles and doctrines were taught, they felt familiar to the couple, and they loved learning about the covenants they could make with Heavenly Father.
Carol said: “When we were taught the law of tithing, I was sure we would starve. But with faith we obeyed and opportunities to improve our financial affairs started. A promotion at work for Michael, my husband—and the blessings just kept coming. Tithing is not about money; it is about faith. We were baptized and never looked back. It was one of the best decisions of our lives.
“The gospel opened a whole new world for me. The promise of Elijah—turning the hearts of the children to the fathers, and the [hearts of the] fathers to the children . . . my heart was turned to my ancestors.”
When Carol first searched for her ancestors 50 years ago—it was difficult and expensive, especially when looking for English relatives while she was living in Australia. FamilySearch has been such a blessing to her; no need now to sit and read microfilms to search out her family.
She said, “To date I have indexed 95,614 names and reviewed 19,050, a total of 114,664.
“I mostly index the English records as I am familiar with the names of places and also the English surnames. . . . It has also been amusing—at one stage I was going into some English records and the very early ones turned out to be written in Latin.
“At first, I just sent the batch back! Then I thought, ‘maybe I will take up this challenge.’ So, I reviewed the batches to get the feel of the records. Then I googled the Latin words for ‘birth,’ ‘marriage,’ ‘death,’ ‘mother’ and ‘father,’ which enabled me to complete the indexing, this made me feel quite pleased with myself that I had managed to index some records written in Latin.
“I can remember the thrill I felt when I saw a copy of the original marriage certificate of my grandfather on a microfilm and saw his signature and that of my grandmother. I’m sure that my grandad would never have thought that one day his granddaughter would be sitting at a microfilm reader looking at that same certificate image from faraway Australia.”
A few workshops after Carol’s Sunday meetings have been held and the youth were also invited. Carol finds it amazing to see how confident young people are when using computers. Now, a number of their Church youth make valiant efforts to index, and really enjoy the work.
“Who knows,” said Carol, “when it is my time to move on to the next stage of my eternal journey, I might just meet up with one of those sisters or brothers in the gospel whose name I’ve indexed, and who took the opportunity to accept the gospel ordinances as their name was taken through the temple. What a joy that would be!
“When I index names in FamilySearch, I pray that there may be many who have had the excitement of finding their ancestors on FamilySearch through the efforts of all those volunteers who engage in the indexing work of salvation.”

When I was a sophomore at the university, I was looking for my future career and I was considering dropping out of that university and transferring to another. Because of this, I did not enjoy my university life at that time. Are you enjoying your campus life? I was struggling a bit with my future career. Let me tell you my story.

One day, I received inspiration that I should pray like Enos did. I knew that Enos prayed mightily. After I had that inspiration, I set the date that I would pray as Enos did. To prepare for that date, I fasted. I also came up with questions that I would ask Heavenly Father and I wrote down thoughts of what I wanted to do and what I wanted to become.

I started praying and felt incredibly good, but I had a tough time getting answers to my questions. I prayed for a while, meditated, prayed again, and so on. My soul was hungry like Enos’ soul. I kneeled and cried to Heavenly Father in mighty prayer.

I prayed all day long as well. The answer Enos received was, “Enos, thy sins are forgiven thee, and thou shalt be blessed.”[3] The answer I received was different. I received specific answers and advice. For me, every time I prayed, I felt Heavenly Father’s love so strongly that it prompted me to think about my future deeply.

I started praying in the morning, meditated repeatedly, prayed again, and my thoughts of my future gradually solidified, and my heart became increasingly calm and peaceful. Through this fasting and praying, I got two promptings. The one was good advice that I should visit two professors to receive their counsel. The other one was that I would be a university professor. I followed those promptings. I visited the professors’ offices and asked them for their counsel. They gave me good advice to help me make good decisions. I did not quit university or change schools, and I studied hard to go on to graduate school.

Two years later, I went to one of the best graduate schools in Japan, then started teaching at a university, becoming a professor at the age of forty. That experience strengthened my testimony of prayer, receiving revelation, and of Jesus Christ.

During my first two years of teaching seminary in Nevada, I assigned two students in each class to be what we called “seminary phantoms.” They were to do nice things throughout the year for their fellow students, without anyone knowing.
Most of the students in my early-morning class were from the same two wards, except for one freshman. His name was Clark, and every day he sat by himself near the front of the room. About three months into the year, I had the class grouped into teams. I asked one boy to let Clark be on his team, and he asked, “Who’s Clark?” It was then that I realized how few people knew Clark.
A few weeks later, as the Christmas season drew near, we geared up to do our annual seminary Christmas activity called “secret Santas.” Students who wanted to participate signed up to do nice things, anonymously, for another student during the week before Christmas break. As the sign-up list went around, nearly everyone signed up. Everyone except Clark.
After class, I pulled aside my two seminary phantoms and asked if they would do a favor for someone in the class. They both willingly agreed. I explained about Clark and asked if they would mind doing just one nice thing for him from his secret Santa.
The following Monday, Clark’s book slot was decorated with ribbons and candy. Tuesday, there were small gifts. As the class came in both days, they crowded around him to see what he had received. Again on Wednesday, there was a small surprise left for him on my desk. When Thursday came, he found a gingerbread house on his desk. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
The next morning was Friday, the last day before Christmas vacation. Clark came into class with a present of his own. It was a huge gingerbread house that must have taken him and his mother all evening to make. He asked if I would please give it to his secret Santa. When class was over, Clark was slow in leaving, hoping to find out who I would give his gift to. But I convinced him that his Santa wanted to remain a secret. As he walked down the street, a car which a few minutes earlier had appeared to drive off, turned into the parking lot again, and two girls got an early Christmas present.
Seminary became Clark’s favorite class. Throughout the remaining three years, he had some wonderful friends in seminary. I can’t help but think that it was partially the result of those two seminary phantoms. The year that he graduated from high school and seminary, I was transferred to another state.
The following summer, my family and I came back to visit. Late one evening, at the home where we were staying, we heard a car drive by. The horn honked and someone yelled, “We love you, Brother Fowler!” In the morning, I found my car “decorated” with toilet paper. Inside was a note with a copy of a mission call attached to it. It was from Clark. It read, “Seminary was the inspiration for the day and for my life. Thanks!”

Though it happened more than four decades ago, my wife and I have never forgotten an occasion when we were blessed by an anonymous donor. It was Christmas of 1953, and I was a graduate student at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York. In many ways it was the best of times. We had two small and much adored children and were deeply in love with each other, as we are to this day. Furthermore, I loved my studies and research at a world-renowned university. But we were very poor, with not a penny of financial reserves, and barely able to scrape by on my graduate stipend of two hundred dollars per month. Somehow my dear wife had managed to find a few dollars for modest Christmas presents for our two children, but that was as far as the money went. We weren’t particularly troubled by the lack of funds, but, like the couple in O. Henry’s classic tale “The Gift of the Magi,” each of us had hoped to give the other some expression of our mutual affection.

On Christmas Eve our doorbell rang. When I answered it, I found on the front porch a package in Christmas wrappings. It was addressed to us but had no indication of who had sent it. When we opened the package on Christmas morning, we found a shirt for me and a blouse for my wife. Never were gifts more appreciated, not just for themselves, but most of all because someone cared about us. We still don’t know the identity of the giver but bless his or her name to this day.

Childhood abuses or neglect of children that occur after birth are more publicly visible. Worldwide, almost eight million children die before their fifth birthday, mostly from diseases both treatable and preventable. And the World Health Organization reports that one in four children have stunted growth, mentally and physically, because of inadequate nutrition. Living and traveling internationally, we Church leaders see much of this. The general presidency of the Primary report children living in conditions “beyond our imaginations.” A mother in the Philippines said: “Sometimes we do not have enough money for food, but that is all right because it gives me the opportunity to teach my children about faith. We gather and pray for relief, and the children see the Lord bless us.” In South Africa, a Primary worker met a little girl, lonely and sad. In faint responses to loving questions, she said she had no mother, no father, and no grandmother—only a grandfather to care for her. Such tragedies are common on a continent where many caregivers have died of AIDS. Even in rich nations little children and youth are impaired by neglect. Children growing up in poverty have inferior health care and inadequate educational opportunities. They are also exposed to dangerous environments in their physical and cultural surroundings and even from the neglect of their parents. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland recently shared the experience of an LDS police officer. In an investigation he found five young children huddled together and trying to sleep without bedding on a filthy floor in a dwelling where their mother and others were drinking and partying. The apartment had no food to relieve their hunger. After tucking the children into a makeshift bed, the officer knelt and prayed for their protection. As he walked toward the door, one of them, about six, pursued him, grabbed him by the hand, and pleaded, “Will you please adopt me?” We remember our Savior’s teaching as He placed a little child before His followers and declared:
“And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.
“But whoso shall offend one of these little ones which believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were drowned in the depth of the sea” (Matthew 18:5–6).
When we consider the dangers from which children should be protected, we should also include psychological abuse. Parents or other caregivers or teachers or peers who demean, bully, or humiliate children or youth can inflict harm more permanent than physical injury. Making a child or youth feel worthless, unloved, or unwanted can inflict serious and long-lasting injury on his or her emotional well-being and development. Young people struggling with any exceptional condition, including same-gender attraction, are particularly vulnerable and need loving understanding—not bullying or ostracism.
With the help of the Lord, we can repent and change and be more loving and helpful to children—our own and those around us.
There are few examples of physical or emotional threats to children as important as those arising out of their relationships with their parents or guardians. President Thomas S. Monson has spoken of what he called the “vile deeds” of child abuse, where a parent has broken or disfigured a child, physically or emotionally. I grieved as I had to study the shocking evidence of such cases during my service on the Utah Supreme Court.
Of utmost importance to the well-being of children is whether their parents were married, the nature and duration of the marriage, and, more broadly, the culture and expectations of marriage and child care where they live. Two scholars of the family explain: “Throughout history, marriage has first and foremost been an institution for procreation and raising children. It has provided the cultural tie that seeks to connect the father to his children by binding him to the mother of his children. Yet in recent times, children have increasingly been pushed from center stage.”
A Harvard law professor describes the current law and attitude toward marriage and divorce: “The [current] American story about marriage, as told in the law and in much popular literature, goes something like this: marriage is a relationship that exists primarily for the fulfillment of the individual spouses. If it ceases to perform this function, no one is to blame and either spouse may terminate it at will. … Children hardly appear in the story; at most they are rather shadowy characters in the background.”
Our Church leaders have taught that looking “upon marriage as a mere contract that may be entered into at pleasure … and severed at the first difficulty … is an evil meriting severe condemnation,” especially where “children are made to suffer.” And children are impacted by divorces. Over half of the divorces in a recent year involved couples with minor children.
Many children would have had the blessing of being raised by both of their parents if only their parents had followed this inspired teaching in the family proclamation: “Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. … Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another.” The most powerful teaching of children is by the example of their parents. Divorcing parents inevitably teach a negative lesson.
There are surely cases when a divorce is necessary for the good of the children, but those circumstances are exceptional. In most marital contests the contending parents should give much greater weight to the interests of the children. With the help of the Lord, they can do so. Children need the emotional and personal strength that come from being raised by two parents who are united in their marriage and their goals. As one who was raised by a widowed mother, I know firsthand that this cannot always be achieved, but it is the ideal to be sought whenever possible.
Children are the first victims of current laws permitting so-called “no-fault divorce.” From the standpoint of children, divorce is too easy. Summarizing decades of social science research, a careful scholar concluded that “the family structure that produces the best outcomes for children, on average, are two biological parents who remain married.” A New York Times writer noted “the striking fact that even as traditional marriage has declined in the United States … the evidence has mounted for the institution’s importance to the well-being of children.” That reality should give important guidance to parents and parents-to-be in their decisions involving marriage and divorce. We also need politicians, policy makers, and officials to increase their attention to what is best for children in contrast to the selfish interests of voters and vocal advocates of adult interests.
Children are also victimized by marriages that do not occur. Few measures of the welfare of our rising generation are more disturbing than the recent report that 41 percent of all births in the United States were to women who were not married. Unmarried mothers have massive challenges, and the evidence is clear that their children are at a significant disadvantage when compared with children raised by married parents.
Most of the children born to unmarried mothers—58 percent—were born to couples who were cohabitating. Whatever we may say about these couples’ forgoing marriage, studies show that their children suffer significant comparative disadvantages. For children, the relative stability of marriage matters.
We should assume the same disadvantages for children raised by couples of the same gender. The social science literature is controversial and politically charged on the long-term effect of this on children, principally because, as a New York Times writer observed, “same-sex marriage is a social experiment, and like most experiments it will take time to understand its consequences.”
I have spoken for children—children everywhere. Some may reject some of these examples, but none should resist the plea that we unite to increase our concern for the welfare and future of our children—the rising generation.
We are speaking of the children of God, and with His powerful help, we can do more to help them. In this plea I address not only Latter-day Saints but also all persons of religious faith and others who have a value system that causes them to subordinate their own needs to those of others, especially to the welfare of children.
Religious persons are also conscious of the Savior’s New Testament teaching that pure little children are our role models of humility and teachableness:
“Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
“Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3–4).
In the Book of Mormon we read of the risen Lord teaching the Nephites that they must repent and be baptized “and become as a little child” or they could not inherit the kingdom of God (3 Nephi 11:38; see also Moroni 8:10).
I pray that we will humble ourselves as little children and reach out to protect our little children, for they are the future for us, for our Church, and for our nations. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

In December of last year, the Kingstown Branch of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints joined with the National Emergency Management Organization on the World Day of Service to hold educational sessions for church members and their friends on food and water storage and disaster preparedness. In addition to the presentations, seeds were provided to all attendees so they could plant their own gardens.
The following month, district and branch presidencies in St. Vincent and the Grenadines encouraged members to refocus their efforts toward being self-reliant both temporally and spiritually. Members took this counsel to heart and did what they could to increase their food and water storage despite their limited financial resources. Some even planted their own gardens. Since then, there have been many reminders to start preparing, even in small ways. Some sisters began purchasing water bottles and sharing them with others who showed interest. Others planted gardens and added to their food supply.
These preparations have been very beneficial as they have been used since the La Soufriere volcano began erupting on April 9, spewing ash into the air.
Sister Nichole Franklyn, Relief Society president in the Kingstown Branch, recalls, “We started a kitchen garden. We were happy, but it took a lot of work. We prayed each night over the crops, and Heavenly Father heard our prayers and blessed them.” Their simple garden has grown and is producing.
Not all the produce in their garden is ready to harvest, but they are reaping cucumbers and sweet peppers. They were worried that the ash fall would ruin their garden as it has much of the agriculture on the island. “Many crops have been completely wiped out, but God has spared ours. We were able to reap cucumbers. Right now, we can sell our cucumbers for five dollars per pound, but we opted to share with three shelters,” Sister Franklyn said.
The members were also encouraged to become spiritually self-reliant. Following the example of a group that started in St. Lucia where a group of sisters are meeting for prayer and scripture study at 5:00 am each morning from Monday to Saturday, the sisters in St. Vincent also began in earnest. They meet on Zoom with other members of the Church in the Caribbean Area at the same time. Despite the prevailing circumstances, the members are strong and without fear, and they continue to meet morning after morning.
Sister Franklyn is grateful for the blessings that her garden has brought to her family and to those in the shelters. “The Lord watches out for His children and provides when we are able to follow His teachings through our leaders,” she said. “It really feels good to give rather than to receive at this time.”

On a Saturday morning at the Sandy stake center, one of the final rehearsals is taking place. There’s an air of controlled chaos as the orchestra tunes and practices and groups of performers mill around waiting their turns. You see them everywhere in small groups in the halls, the foyers, and corners of the cultural hall: friends, like Justin Dunslow and Thomas Hood. Both are 17 and both are very busy in school, and one of the best things about being in this play together, Justin says, is “it’s brought our friendship closer.”

Obviously, friendships are not the only thing that grows when you answer the casting call. Some of the kids in both Oakley and Sandy are old hands in the theater, with experience in numerous church, school, and community productions. Others are just beginning to discover what they can do. But everyone is discovering new talents and abilities.

Eli Hansen, 15, from Burley, Idaho, was taking an acting class in high school and thought Pirates would be fun. “I learned I have some talents I’ve never used before,” he says. “I didn’t know I could dance or sing. Now they’re getting me into the ward choir.”

Jud Vorwaller, 19, was in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat the summer before. In his senior year he sang in his high school choir. “I didn’t know I could sing,” Jud says. “A friend prompted me to try out. I didn’t want to because I was shy. Last year I had one solo and I was scared to death to do it. Opening night was nerve-racking. This year [when he had a lead role] I wasn’t nervous. I knew I had a lot to do, and if I got nervous, I was really in trouble.”

What has this experience done for Jud? “I’m not nearly as shy as before. I have more confidence in myself.” For someone headed for the mission field, that’s not a bad accomplishment.

Spencer Williams, 17, had a role as a Mormon Battalion member in Promised Valley, a part that required him to sing a solo. “I don’t like it much,” he admitted before the performance. And the thought of singing on the stage at the University of Utah’s Kingsbury Hall was kind of intimidating. But he went through with it. “It was a good experience,” he reported later. “Each night I got a little better.”

To be honest, Spencer didn’t sound like he was anxious to try out for a solo part again. And Thomas Hood, who had acted in his high school’s production of Arsenic and Old Lace, was pretty frank in evaluating his musical talents. “I found out I can’t sing,” he said good-naturedly. But even those who found singing a real stretch enjoyed their overall experience.

Speaking of music, one of the most obvious places to use a musical talent is in the orchestra pit. It’s hard work, say Shane Larsen, 14, and his brother Joseph, 16. When you point out to Shane that nobody really sees the orchestra, he says, “Yes, but they hear us. And if the music isn’t good, the play won’t be any good either.” Joseph admits that when he was on stage in previous productions, he kind of took the orchestra for granted, too. But not any more.

Of course, when it comes to being seen, no one would be seen—or heard—if the stage and sound and light crews were not on the job. Sandy stake’s Thomas Craft, 19, has acted in some productions, but he prefers to work behind the scenes. “Backstage people don’t always get credit, but they are very important for the play to turn out the way it should.”

Which brings up some of the things the stage can teach you about life. Kaisa Hansen was in Pirates. Now she’s a student at BYU. As much as anything, performing gave her an appreciation for the work of others. “When you get involved, you see how much people do behind the scenes. I have started realizing how much work people put into things. And when you are involved in something with other people, and you just play a small role, you are part of the glue that holds things together.”

Eli Hansen, 15, of Burley, talks about another lesson learned from the stage: “When you’re not part of the action, don’t upstage the others. Focus attention on them. Stay in character all the time. There’s always somebody watching you. You represent the Church name, your family name, even your employer. You have to be ‘on’ around the clock.”

When you get involved in stake productions or even Church pageants, there are still more lessons learned—things that shape and strengthen your testimony. Many of those who performed in Promised Valley volunteered that the experience had given them a greater appreciation of the pioneers and of their own heritage. As Spencer Williams notes, “To get into character, you have to imagine what it would have been like.” For him, the miracle of the crickets and the seagulls took on much deeper meaning.

Just like the friendships formed, those kinds of experiences can stay with you for years. Amy Hill, 18, of the Taylorsville Utah Central Stake, remembers when she was in her stake’s performance of the Book-of-Mormon-based A Day, a Night, and a Day. Amy was a ninth grader and had only a small nonspeaking part. But she has vivid memories of “acting out the Book of Mormon, thinking, Wow! this is so cool. This is how it would have felt.” Would she do it again? “I’d definitely recommend that kind of experience. I miss it sometimes.”

So what do the critics say? You’ve just heard from the critics who matter most—the people who have done it. So next time you have a chance to get on the stage (or behind the scenes, or in the orchestra pit) don’t start looking for the first stage out of town. If you want to develop friends, talents, and self-confidence, that stake musical or school play or community theater may be just the ticket.

Be a critic. The world judges plays and musicals as good or bad based on how well they are written and performed. Latter-day Saints must be concerned about content. What is the message? Are language and costumes appropriate? If you have to “become your character” in order to act well, what kind of character are you being asked to play? Several of the young people we talked to indicated that they were touched emotionally and spiritually by what they were portraying.

Be aware. There are lots of opportunities to get involved in wholesome theater. Most—but not all—school plays are safe. (Get a look at the script if you are unsure.) Stake and ward productions are a wonderful opportunity for friendships and personal growth. And many communities—especially those with a strong LDS influence—have local theater companies that have high moral standards. Ask around.

Be prepared to commit yourself and work hard. Rehearsals can be boring and tiring. But when everything comes together, the payoff can be terrific.

When he entered the hospital emergency room he was just another vagrant. His thin, hunched, and sore-ridden body slowly limped forward. His blind eyes stared blankly into a private world of darkness. The offensive smell from his poorly-clothed body was enough to discourage anyone from getting close to him. But, as a doctor, it was my job; so I invited him to come with me.
As I examined him he told me over and over that he was sick and needed help. After describing all of his symptoms he mumbled in rejection, “I don’t have a family or a home where I can sleep or eat.” I felt compassion for him—there were so many just like him. But what could I do?
As I treated him we talked about God. He understood the importance of the teachings of Jesus Christ and the need for them in our lives. However, he expressed difficulty understanding people who say they believe in God but neglect to show concern and compassion for their neighbor. He had acquaintances who claimed belief in God, but when he asked for food they wouldn’t give him any.
The one person who actually offered help was a woman almost as poor as he. She worked hard to help support her family by collecting and selling old clothing and rags. She had invited him to stay with them in her small tin-walled house. It was tiny, there were flies and rodents—but he would be welcome there.
We walked and talked together for three hours. Though his eyes were blinded his heart was not. Most of our conversation was about God. He asked, “Doctor, do you believe in God?” Quickly, I replied, “Yes I do, and you are my brother.” My reply came without thinking. But, as I said it, the words swelled in my heart and I realized that it was true!
As we talked, my love for him grew. I was in awe as I began to understand what it meant to be a brother. I experienced gratitude for the lesson I was learning from one whom, I thought, had nothing to give. I gave him of my time, and a little food, but he gave me understanding.

“Another recollection I have from childhood is memorable to me because it became a powerful lesson in my life. Pioneer Day is a time of great celebration in Salt Lake City. It is climaxed with a long parade on the morning of July 24th. When I was a preschooler, I was asked to be on the Primary Children’s Hospital float. Of course, this was very exciting to me. Mother bought me a new nightgown and fixed my hair with a ribbon. Father walked me down to where the parade was forming—and there was the float! The woman in charge of this float turned and looked at me. She said, ‘Look at her! We chose her because she looked sick and was skinny.’ She took hold of my hair ribbon and pulled it out of my hair. Then she took one of those big powder puffs and put white powder all over my face. I was crushed. I’d had visions of riding as a queen on the float.
“Before the parade began, my father took me into the hospital, which was then right across the street from the north gate of Temple Square, to talk to the children—wisely, I know now, because I was heart-broken. I was introduced to all the children as the one who was going to represent them in the hospital bed on the float. They banged their crutches and shook their metal cribs as their way of saying, ‘Hurray!’ I went back outside and quickly got up onto the float. The cover on the bed hid my new nightgown, and the hair ribbon was gone. All you could see was my little white face. But I was happy now. I was representing all the children in the hospital. I was just pretending to be sick—for them. It was a wonderful lesson to me, one that I shall never forget.

Kids were never my thing. I was the youngest in my family, had no experience with babies, and got scared when a toddler looked at me. So of course when I first got married, having kids was a life change I wasn’t too excited to make.
My husband was all for starting a family from day one, but I insisted that we wait. Those first couple months, “Let’s talk about it in a year” could have been my motto.
While this may not be the reason for everyone struggling with the decision to have kids, I knew what was holding me back: fear and selfishness, plain and simple. When I thought of being a mother, my mind wasn’t filled with cute smiles and sweet laughter. Instead, I thought of sleepless nights and limited free time. Not to mention pain and discomfort. I can still remember the first time I heard about giving birth. I decided then and there that I was going to adopt.
My entire life, I had felt uncomfortable around children, so when I thought of having my own, I couldn’t see how it was possible. How would I be able to give everything up for them?
The first eight or nine months of our marriage went by without much change. My husband had this running joke that anytime I asked, “Guess what?” he would reply, “You’re pregnant!” I’d roll my eyes and move on, with plenty of excuses as to why having children was not going to happen any time soon.
Now don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t feeling pressure to have children. My husband and I had conversations and agreed to take things one step at a time. But in my mind, having children wasn’t going to happen for a long while.
Even still, I knew that Heavenly Father knows more about how my life can and should turn out. Which is why, despite my firm conviction that having children should wait, I continued to pray about the decision both alone and with my husband. We told Heavenly Father our plan but admitted that we would accept a different plan if it was His will. That was an important step in the change of heart that slowly came over me.
That change didn’t happen all at once. In fact, I can’t really remember exactly when it started. But slowly, I had begun to be less averse to the idea of starting a family. I had begun to actually consider it, especially once my excuses were hitting their end. I had wanted to wait until I was done with school—I was about to graduate. I wanted us to know where we would be in the next year—my husband had received a job offer. Slowly but surely, things were starting to fall into place.
I thought it would be scary, running out of the excuses I had held onto for so long. And yet, that’s just it. I wasn’t scared. The fear that I had held inside of me for the past 10 years was no longer there. Or at least, it was accompanied by a peace strong enough to drown it out.
So by the time our first anniversary came around, I just didn’t have any reason to say no to starting a family anymore. The Lord had changed my heart and quieted my fears.
Later, a friend ask me how I knew it was the right time. I had to admit that it wasn’t through any grand feeling of courage or love for children, no burning of the heart. It was just through the absence of fear. It’s like God said to the early Latter-day Saints: “If ye are prepared ye shall not fear” (Doctrine and Covenants 38:30). To me, my lack of fear was the answer from the Lord saying, “Yes, you’re ready.”
It was pretty exciting, that first time that I could finally laugh and say yes to my husband’s reply, “You’re pregnant!”
Photo illustration from Getty Images
Now here I am with a young baby in my arms. I’m still learning how to be a mom, and I still don’t know what to do around other people’s kids. But I know that no matter what shortcomings I may have when it comes to children, Heavenly Father is rooting for me. He prepared me for this time. I have felt His divine help, even through lingering feelings of doubt and fear. The sleepless nights and lack of free time are small sacrifices for the joy that has come to me and my family. I know that Heavenly Father is aware of our fears and our circumstances. And if we seek His help, He can help us overcome them and move forward in faith.

As I was growing up, I watched my family become strong in the gospel through their solid faith. I followed them, wanting to be strong in the gospel, and learned to live their teachings and work hard to develop faith in God. When I grew up, the time came for me to prove my faith in God. I applied for my passport and sent in my papers to serve a mission. I received my mission call within a month but not the passport. I waited more than 45 days but no result.
I served a mini mission while waiting for the passport. My mission president, President Karl E. Nelson, called me every morning and asked me for my passport status. I kept praying for my passport. I thought that Heavenly Father needed me to put in more effort, so I fasted and prayed. Then I felt inspired to meet the district collector even though I didn’t know who he was. With my mission president’s permission, I went to meet the district collector with my companion and submitted a petition for my passport, as my mission president had instructed. One thing I noticed was that the other officers were expecting a bribe, but I decided not to give even a single penny. I was going to serve God, and I knew that the prophet’s words were true and that what needed to happen would happen.
Now the time scheduled for me to go to the MTC and start my mission was close. There was only one week left. My faith was tested, whether I would be persistent in my decision or whether I would I give up. I never gave up. After much discouragement and many trials and temptations, I remembered the words of God: “Faith without works is dead”1 and “ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith”2. Finally, Heavenly Father blessed me to receive my passport and visa within four days and I was on my way to the MTC in Manila, the very day fixed by the prophet. Many times since, I have had trials of my faith, but I have tried to remain true to God and to what I was taught in my youth.

It’s not unusual for Young Men and Young Women to paint a house as part of a ward service project, but the teachers quorum and Mia Maid class from the Boise 19th Ward, Boise Idaho North Stake, did it as part of a community-wide “Paint the Town Day.” They combined with 154 other teams made up of 4,200 volunteers to paint houses all over the community, with materials donated by local merchants. When they were through, they all met in a local park for a community party.
They had such a good time, in fact, that the rest of the youth from the ward decided to do a painting project the very next Saturday.
This one involved being ferried across a reservoir to camp, then painting the log picnic shelters and tables the next day. “This is a pretty place, and I like being part of keeping it nice,” said Melissa West, surveying her ward’s work. The event resulted in some sore muscles and sunburned noses, but everyone agreed they were worth the friendship and sense of service they came away with.

“A Wonderful Program”
At the Gathering Place in the Kumasi Ghana University Stake, Sister Agatha Owusu teaches others to make soap, detergent, washing powder, and other cleansing agents. Blessed with a bishop who recognized her talent, Agatha received mentoring from him that helped her develop a talent she gratefully shares with others.
“I recognized that this is my talent from my Heavenly Father,” she says. “If I don’t share my gift with others, it would be like putting my lit candle under a bushel” (see Matthew 5:16).
Her reward, she says, is the satisfaction she receives from helping others gain a skill, make a living, and become self-reliant.
Speaking for many who teach and share their talents at a Gathering Place, she says, “I invite everyone to the Kumasi Gathering Place—whether a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or not—to come to be part of this wonderful program.”

Was the Prophet an emotional man? In all the worthy senses of that word, the answer is yes. The tears sprang easily to his eyes, and this happened in varied situations. There is, for example, the occasion on which Parley P. Pratt returned to Nauvoo by boat, having been on a long mission, and the Prophet came down to greet him and just wept. When Parley could extricate himself he said, “Why Brother Joseph, if you feel so bad about our coming, I guess we will have to go back again.”46 He wept, too, at good-byes: the tears were flowing fast on the day he said good-bye to his family before he left for Richmond Jail.

“Look, Mom, there’s our neighbor!” I exclaimed as Mom backed our car out of the driveway.
“Yes, I’ve seen him sitting outside his house the last couple of days.”
I smiled and waved as we drove by. Mom waved, too.
He reminds me of Grandpa, I thought. “What’s his name?” I asked. “He looks like a nice man.”
“I don’t know. We’ve been here almost a year, but I’ve never met him.”
The next day as we got into the car to go to the grocery store, I noticed him again, sitting in his lawn chair under a big shade tree.
I called out, “Hi,” and waved. He smiled and slowly raised his arm to wave back.
“Would it be OK if I went over and met him sometime?” I asked Mom. “He looks like a nice man.”
“Sure,” she said. “Next time we see him, we’ll both go.”
Later that day, we saw him sitting in his chair again. “Hi,” I called, skipping across front yards. “My name is Kellie, and this is my mom.”
He stood up carefully and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both. I’m Arthur Dunbar.”
“We live in that house over there,” I told him, pointing.
“Yes, I’ve seen you,” he said with a friendly smile.
“How are you doing?” Mom asked.
“Just a little slower than usual,” he replied. “Ever since my stroke, I haven’t been allowed to drive or go to work.” He looked down at his hands. “I get restless being housebound, so I like to sit outside in the shade—but I expect to be up and around again soon.”
“I have a new ring,” I said, holding out my hand. “I got it for my birthday.”
“That’s a very pretty ring,” he said, “and you’re as cute as a bug. How old are you, Miss Kellie?”
“I’m four years old.”
“A very grown-up four-year-old, right?” Mr. Dunbar asked, smiling.
“Yes,” Mom agreed, also smiling. “We’d better go now and let Mr. Dunbar rest.”
“I’ll come see you tomorrow, OK?” I asked. Mr. Dunbar looked at Mom. Both nodded, and we said good-bye.
Mr. Dunbar and I quickly became friends. When my cousin sent me a postcard, I ran across the yard and asked him to read it to me. When I found a beautiful rock in his flower bed, I brought it to his porch and let him feel its smooth edges. Later, he’d sometimes go to the store with Mom and me. I invited him to my soccer game, and when I played good defense, I could hear him cheering louder than anyone else.
One Sunday as we came home from church, he was sitting in his chair. I jumped out of the car to show him my outfit.
“Well, young lady, where have you been, dressed up so pretty?” he asked.
“Church,” I said, twirling around. As I twirled, I bumped into Dad, who had followed me.
“Hi, Peter,” Mr. Dunbar said. “I see you take your family to church.”
“Yes sir.” Dad looked down at me and grinned, then reached to shake Mr. Dunbar’s hand. “Would you like a ride to church sometime?”
“I’d like that,” Mr. Dunbar said after a pause.
“What church do you go to?” Dad asked.
Mr. Dunbar ran his fingers through his gray hair. “Well, what church do you all attend?”
“The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints,” I volunteered.
“Your church would be fine.” He smiled.
I took another spin in my new dress, adding a little jump. “We leave pretty early in the morning,” I told him.
“That’s all right, Miss Kellie,” he said. “I like to get up early and watch the sunrise.”
Mr. Dunbar had a great time at our ward. I introduced him to my friends and told him to go with my dad to classes. Soon after, he came to our house to listen to the missionaries. He said he felt peaceful when he heard the gospel. He decided to be baptized.
At the baptism, one of the speakers said that Brother Dunbar was joining the Church because I had been a good missionary. I was surprised. I hadn’t visited Mr. Dunbar to teach him about Jesus Christ. I just wanted him to be happy. Later, our stake president told me that being a good friend is a big part of being a missionary.
I’m glad that Brother Dunbar is now a member of the Church, and I’m glad to know that even a little child like me can help Heavenly Father—just by being a friend. Mom and Dad and I are still close friends with Brother Dunbar. We always will be.

What if we do not want to keep the commandments? Brother Elray Christiansen used to tell of a man who came over from Denmark who was skilled at amassing wealth. He gave up a rather substantial fortune to join the Church and come to Utah, but after he settled here he again had the ability to build up his resources. In the process he lost his testimony. As the brethren visited him, they would say, “You’re not doing right, you know,” but he would never listen.

One day two brethren were visiting and one of them said, “Now look, Lars, it’s not right what you do.” He paid no attention. The brother continued, “Look, Lars, you can’t take it with you, you know.”

That touched Lars, and he said, “What’s that you say?”

“I told you, you can’t take it with you.”

And Lars said, “Vell then, I vill not go.”

Brother Christiansen bore testimony that he has gone.

Recently we heard of the death of Nelson Rockefeller, who was one of the wealthiest men in the world, and my son asked me how much he had left. The standard answer, of course, is that he left it all, as all will do.